Targeted

Jack carefully gauged Sophie’s reaction. Her lips pulled into a slight grimace and all color had fled her pretty face, but she didn’t seem surprised exactly. As if she knew something. “So why did you come into SBMS under the guise of working for Keane? And why did you want to work with me?”

“We weren’t sure of your involvement and figured the easiest way to get to Ronald would be through you.”

Her dark eyes narrowed. “What about now? Do you still think I’m involved?”

“No, I don’t.”

Some of the color returned to her cheeks.

Jack glanced at the phone, just to force his gaze away from her piercing one. Staring at her too long was bad for his sanity. “Wesley, send me a complete file on Vargas, including pictures of some of his handiwork.” He was going to show Sophie exactly what kind of man they were trying to stop from unleashing terror on U.S. soil. The file would be encrypted and normally he’d have had the information with him, but he didn’t have much on his current laptop since it was his backup.

“Will do. . . . Jack, I’ve got to take this call.” Wesley disconnected before either of them could respond.

Jack took out the battery as Sophie stood and picked up her plate. She reached out to take his empty one, though her hand slightly shook. “Are you through?”

He nodded and let her take it. He cleared off their glasses and the serving dish and followed her into the kitchen. When she started washing the dishes, he stopped her. “Leave it, Sophie. Please.”

At the word “please,” she dropped the dishrag in the sink and turned to face him. Her expression was wary and he got the feeling that she was still holding something back from him. It was another reason he wanted to show her that file on Vargas. She needed to see that he was being honest with her—as honest as he could be. “What exactly do you want from me?”

Jack hadn’t gone over anything with his boss, but he had no doubt Wesley would be on board with whatever he chose to do. “I know you’re not telling me everything. I want to go over your past few months at SBMS, see if you remember anything out of the ordinary. The fact that you printed out all those logs from Keane tells me you’re suspicious of something. I’d also like to show you a file on the man your boss is in bed with.”

•   •   •

Leaning against the sink, Sophie clasped her hands in front of her stomach and tried to force herself to stop trembling. It was too hard to believe that Ronald was dirty, but his response to her call earlier had left her rattled. Why the hell would he want her to stay out of town? She might as well glean as much information from Jack as she could. He might not be telling the truth, but she was willing to listen. Mainly because she didn’t have any other option at this point. “What man?”

“Miguel Vargas.”

The name was vaguely familiar, sending off a small warning bell in her head. She frowned, unsure if she was supposed to know it.

Jack continued. “He’s head of a violent South American drug cartel.”

“Vargas . . . I do know the name, if it’s the same man. About a year ago one of the planes we hired was hit before they could deliver supplies. Now there are a few places in Brazil and Chile we can’t hire anyone to fly to for us. I think I heard someone, maybe Ronald, say something about Vargas being involved.”

“I thought Keane flew everything for SBMS.” Jack watched her carefully.

She figured he probably already knew this but was just testing her. Besides, there was no reason to lie. It wasn’t a secret. “Keane Flight flies supplies to different countries, but we often outsource to locals once he’s in- country because they’d rather deal with their own people for the final deliveries. It’s not personal to Keane and we care about getting those supplies to where they’re needed most.”

He nodded once, clearly accepting her answer. Then he nodded toward the living room. “I’d like to show you some files.”

“Okay.” She pushed up from the counter and let him leave the small kitchen first. Sophie needed some space from the man, but there was nowhere to go.

He sat on one end of the longer couch and she sat on the other, trying to put a little space between them. The room seemed to grow smaller in the silence as he turned on his laptop. It was a newer computer, sleek and thin. She watched his hard profile as he typed. His expression was grim as he stared at the screen, his fingers flying over the keyboard.

Suddenly he looked up, those pale eyes pinning her, and she flushed as if she’d been doing something wrong. She couldn’t help staring at him, though. Watching him was like watching a tiger only feet from her. The man just screamed danger, but everything about him begged her to reach out and touch. To see if she’d get bitten. Her mouth and lips were dry, but she forced herself not to lick her lips even if the action was instinctual.

She could almost swear the man read her thoughts, though, because his gaze strayed to her lips for a fraction of a second before he turned back to the screen. He shifted the computer screen toward her.

Scooting closer, she couldn’t ignore that spicy scent or what his mere presence did to her. She moved until their knees almost touched, but she kept a little space between them.

Jack eyed the small distance, frowned as if it annoyed him, then moved until they were touching. The action took her so off guard she didn’t know how to respond. She wondered if he was even aware of what he’d done.

Before she could contemplate it, he handed her the laptop. “Scan the files if you like, but the pictures start on page five.”

When she went to look at what he’d given her, he stopped her with a light touch on her arm.

“Fair warning, the pictures aren’t easy to look at. Everyone in them is dead and . . .” He trailed off, shrugging. “This is what happens when someone crosses Vargas and why he must be stopped. These are his own countrymen and women, and he did what he did because someone went to the authorities because he was using their town as part of his supply route.”

He stopped talking, but the dark look in his eyes was predatory. It was almost as if she could sense the rage in him even though he wasn’t outwardly reacting. He was so still it was unnerving, as if he was reining in his anger. Sam had been just like that. Whenever he got angry, everything burned deep beneath his surface. And the quieter he’d gotten, the angrier he’d been. The sudden comparison between the two men jarred her enough to tear her gaze away.

Sophie started scrolling through the pages of text. On the third one, she glared at him accusingly. “I can barely read any of this.” There were big paragraphs completely blacked out.

He looked almost apologetic as his broad shoulders lifted in a half shrug. “The classified stuff is redacted.”

Gritting her teeth, she looked back and read what she could. The details were scant and she gleaned bits and pieces basically telling her what Jack had just told her. But when she got to the section of pictures, what little food she had in her stomach roiled. Men, women, and children had been massacred.

There were so many of them wearing threadbare clothes, some with no shoes, and their bodies had been ravaged with bullets. In some, the bodies of the women were missing skirts or they were completely naked, telling another story of the carnage. Some bodies were piled on each other, just dumped in ditches. Some had been left in the street and ripped apart by hungry scavengers. Swallowing hard, she closed her eyes, but the images remained.

Having seen more than enough, she snapped his computer shut and shoved it at him.

“I told you,” he murmured.

“Vargas did that and he’s supposedly involved with my boss? And Keane?”

“I don’t know for sure about your boss, but it’s more than probable.” Jack’s eyes were unreadable. He just stared at her, as if waiting for something.

Screw it. She reached into the built-in bra of the too-big dress and pulled out the flash drive. She had backups and someone wanted her dead. If Jack wanted to kill her, he could have done so. Multiple times. She handed it to the intimidating man next to her, then wiped her damp palm on her dress. She had no idea what his reaction would be.

His eyes slightly narrowed. “What is this?”