antibiotics for an infection.”
Kinkaid raised his throbbing head to look at his surroundings for the first time. A small motel room with two beds. And a plastic bag of clear liquid hung over his head with a tube connected to an IV in his arm. Dank sheets covered him, and heavy bandages were taped across his belly.
“What…happened?” he asked.
“You were shot. It went clean through. Does that ring a bell?” His friend tried to jog his memory. “It sure would with me.”
Images of the academy fund-raiser rushed to his mind, an event marred by armed gunmen, a screaming little girl in danger—and Sister Kate. And judging by the fact he was in a motel room rather than a hospital with doctors who asked questions, he realized Joe had done his best to keep a low profile.
“How did you find me? I don’t remember…” He attempted to sit up and winced in pain.
“Oh, no. Stay put, big guy.” Joe held his shoulders until he settled down. “You want some water.”
When he shook his head, his friend went on.
“I called in some markers and triangulated your position using the GPS on your phone. Remember? You’re the gutsy guy, and I’m the clever one.” Joe smirked and sat in a chair near his bed. His amusement eventually vanished. “Can you tell me what happened?”
“Not sure. Too…tired.” Kinkaid had a hard time staying awake. He heard Joe, but his words faded in and out.
“You lost a lot of blood. And the pain meds are potent,” Joe explained. “Police said a group of terrorists attacked that school fund-raiser you were at. They used heavy firepower and got away with hostages. You told me a friend was in trouble. And you wanted my help, no matter who I had to ask. Remember that?”
“Kate. She’s in trouble. We’ve got to…help her.” Despite his condition, Kinkaid picked up on Joe’s hesitance, but he was too weak to stay focused. “Who did you get…?”
He wasn’t sure he’d spoken or merely thought the question. He shut his eyes and sank into the black void again, hearing Joe’s voice in the distance.
“Help is on the way, boss. But we gotta talk. Stay with me now.”
Kinkaid couldn’t open his eyes. He drifted into a fitful drug-induced sleep—an agonizing stupor where he couldn’t tell what was real or a nightmare—and he wondered if death felt like this.
If it did, he couldn’t recommend it.
CHAPTER 7
Port de Paix, Haiti
10:00 P.M.
“Jackson. Come on, wake up, man.” A voice jolted Kinkaid from a deep sleep. Joe LaClaire’s voice. “I hate doing this, but you’ll wanna hear what I gotta say. Trust me.”
“What? What’s…happening?” He opened his eyes to a dimly lit motel room with another unmade bed and his friend leaning over him. An IV was still plugged into his arm.
“That help I promised you?” Joe winced, looking apologetic. “They’ll be here soon. We gotta get you up. And right now, you don’t look so good.”
Hell, he felt like crap. Why would he look good?
“Who? Who’s coming?” Kinkaid struggled to sit up in bed. His side ached, and his head throbbed without letup. Joe slid another pillow under him.
“I have a confession to make. You were so desperate for help…to rescue a woman named Kate, that I called someone you might not…”
Now he knew something was up. Joe was a straightforward guy, and he didn’t mince words. Apparently he had something in his craw.
“Spit it out, Joe. Who’d you call?”
His friend paused long enough for him to glance up and stare him in the eyes.
“Garrett Wheeler.”
“What?” Kinkaid glared at Joe before he tore the IV from his arm with a grimace. He swung his legs off the bed and protested, “I thought you understood. I’ve got history with Wheeler. He’s not…”
Before he finished, Joe interrupted.
“The thing is, he’s the only one who sent a team. And he’s got the resources to get the job done.” Joe waved a hand and urged him to get up. “Come on. Alexa Marlowe will be here pronto. We gotta get you looking presentable.”
“Alexa? She still with…Garrett?”
“That depends on what you mean by ‘with’ him. He sent her with a team. You know her?”
His mind reeled with memories of Alexa. She was a force of nature. A strong, intelligent woman with passions to match. He had kept his private life a secret from her when they worked together, believing it was the right thing to do. But his reticence only added fuel to her fire.
He’d seen the same thing happen to others. Living life on the edge played havoc on operatives’ libidos. And staring death in the face with each new op made it easy to form attachments to those who understood the life. Although Alexa had wanted more from him, he couldn’t give her what she needed. And after he cooled things off between them, he later suspected that she found Garrett more willing.
All of this came at about the time his life went to hell. And any feelings he had for Alexa melded into his resentment of Garrett.
“Know her? Not anymore I don’t.” Wearing only boxers, he stood and toppled over before Joe grabbed him. “I gotta get showered and dressed. I can’t let her see me like this. She’ll find an excuse to put me on injured reserve and leave me behind.”
Now Joe lost his cool. “Oh, like the fact you’ve been shot? Silly woman. Why would she hold
“Exactly.” He shrugged and took his first steps toward the bathroom, fending off Joe’s help with a wave of his hand.
“You’re insane.” Joe raised his voice. “Doc says you had a nasty infection, and you need stronger antibiotics than pills. If you get off the IV now, you’ll be slammed harder. You have no business on a rescue mission in your condition. You’ll only slow her down.”
Kinkaid turned back to his friend to make his point.
“If that happens, I’ll make the call and bench myself, but I’m not turning this over to Garrett Wheeler and his blond surrogate. I can’t trust them, not with this.”
“I’ll be your wingman. Does that count?” Joe argued. “Or don’t you trust me either?”
Kinkaid raked a hand through his dark hair and heaved a sigh. He was being an asshole to a guy who didn’t deserve it.
“I trust you, Joe. And I appreciate all your help. But…I feel like I got Kate into this mess,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Those terrorists…they called out my name before they started shooting up the place. They were looking for me, Joe. I gotta know why. And I gotta see this thing through for her sake. I owe her.”
Joe stared at him for a long moment before he backed off. “You can be a real son of a bitch, but invoking your name doesn’t usually spark gunplay. At least, not right away.”
“Thanks, I think.”
“No problem. And I brought your bag off the boat. Let’s get you dressed and smelling pretty.” He grinned and tossed a duffel bag on his bed. “So tell me, boss. Is Alexa Marlowe as sexy as her name?”
He gave his friend a sideways glare. And even though he didn’t answer his question, Joe smirked. “Yeah, thought so.”
Port de Paix wasn’t exactly paradise by Alexa’s standards. And the darkness of a cloudy night kept the place in shadows, the best thing she could say about it. The flight to Haiti had been a long one, and she had more hours to work before hitting the sack.
