stacked in a corner. The mundane room was colored in varying degrees of brown and looked like something anyone would scrape off their shoe. And it smelled a little musty, with the faint scent of pine and ammonia.
Although it was clear that Jessie had made an attempt to clean, she barely looked like she lived there. No personal effects could be seen, only the essentials for her to eat and sleep in the apartment that Garrett Wheeler— the liaison to the Sentinels—had leased for her after she’d picked it. The woman definitely gravitated toward the simpler life, having no tolerance for the more-upscale lifestyle he would have provided.
But that only made Garrett peeved that he hadn’t gotten her total buy-in. Lavish gifts and posh living quarters were more his style. Yet she had refused his usual ploys to make her feel obligated to him—and to add insult to injury—the woman could pick up and go in a heartbeat. Garrett didn’t like that. So knowing Jessie had worked late, Alexa had been sent to check on her even at this hour, a task she would have done on her own without his prompting.
She had something personal on her mind, and she had to get it off her chest.
Alexa turned to face her and get a closer look at her new partner. Jessie looked tired, and the spark of her usual defiance had been dulled. Alexa knew about going stir-crazy until that first assignment came along. Living in luxury had made the wait tolerable for her, but Jessie didn’t have such a distraction. Plus, the Sentinels’ instruction program for its operatives was consuming, a twenty-four/seven schedule that had kept them apart until this week, when she’d be officially assigned her new partner.
Jessie was ready, and they both knew it.
“Rumor has it that you’re the one to beat. You had top honors,” Jessie reminded her. “I’m just trying to make a good first impression.”
“Spoken like a true overachiever who’s been smacked by the humility stick.” She chose a chair across from the small sofa and sat.
“Can I get you a beer?” Jessie asked.
Beer was not Alexa’s drink of choice, but for Jessie’s sake, she said, “Sure, as long as you don’t take me to a monster-truck rally after.”
“And here I thought you were a Monster Jam groupie.”
“Just hearing you say that scares the hell out of me.”
Alexa had gotten various reports from Jessie’s trainers as her instruction progressed. Top marks on all levels except when it came to a consistent concern. Her instructors had agreed that Jessie was both physically and mentally tough and would make a gifted operative, but she was a definite loner. In the world of the Sentinels, this was not a bad thing, but not everyone was convinced she’d make a good partner until Alexa spoke up for her.
That helped Garrett make up his mind. He needed to test her with the real deal. Soon they’d be assigned a case, another reason for Alexa to make contact with Jessie.
“Garrett told me we’d get one of the next assignments. You up for it?”
“Hell, yeah.” Jessie handed her a beer without a glass. “I’d take my urine test over just to feel I’m making progress.”
“I’ll mention that to the HR Department.”
Jessie plopped onto a sofa across from Alexa and took a long pull from her bottle before she spoke again. “I mean, it’s not that I’m ungrateful for all Garrett’s done for me. The training has been interesting. And I’ve never been in such good shape physically. The first few weeks were killer. But lately I’ve been pulling longer hours to stay…focused. Just hanging out like this is driving me crazier than usual. Without a bail-jumping scumbag in sight, I’m going through arrest withdrawals.”
“Yeah, I figured.”
Alexa knew that Jessie hadn’t been back to Chicago since her training started nearly six months ago except to pack a few personal belongings. Garrett was maintaining her Chicago apartment in case she changed her mind. Plus he’d given her the option of flying back on a few occasions—at his expense—but she’d never taken him up on the offer. She hadn’t even gone back to see her cop friend, Sam Cooper. Although Alexa didn’t know her well, that behavior smacked of avoidance and seemed out of character, even for someone as detached as Jessie.
That left Alexa with questions. And before they worked together, she had to clear the air by testing a theory she had for the reason Jessie had severed her link to Chicago.
“What are you doing tomorrow morning?”
“Not much. Why?”
“I thought you might want to ride with me to the airport. I invited your friend Seth Harper to town for the weekend.”
The alarmed look on Jessie’s face told her everything she wanted to know. Alexa knew her plans with Seth and her playful weekend of seduction had gotten complicated.
Port de Paix, Haiti
10:00 P.M.
“And are you single, Mr. Kinkaid?” In a coy gesture, the older woman stroked the stem of her wineglass, not taking her eyes off him. Before Kinkaid replied, she added, “My daughter is studying finance back in the States. I’m sure she’d love to meet you…to discuss your…assets.”
He forced a polite smile and downed a full martini, wishing he had a second one on deck. He took a deep breath and gazed across the room to catch Sister Kate smirking. She stood with a small group of guests, holding the hand of a little Haitian boy. And whenever she could, Kate glanced his way, watching over him. Kinkaid could tell that the nun took devilish delight in his uneasiness, mostly because she shared it with him. Misery did indeed love company. He narrowed his eyes and shook his head at her, but Kate had supplied him with all the excuse he’d need.
“Best wishes to your daughter in her studies. But if you’ll excuse me, Sister Mary Katherine is calling.”
He made what he hoped was a diplomatic exit and went looking for a drink. But as he walked away, he caught the matchmaking woman checking his assets head to toe. She smiled and waved, without any sign of embarrassment. And from a distance, Kinkaid raised his empty glass in reply.
Kinkaid took a detour to the nearest cash bar as he listened to the music and took in the room. The musicians weren’t bad, especially after a few drinks. And the food looked great. Sister Kate and her organizers had put on a fine spread, with everything donated from local businesses, so the full ticket price could be donated to the school. Sister Kate never wasted an opportunity to raise money.
When he crossed the room, dodging partygoers and avoiding eye contact, he shifted his gaze to the exits. At first nothing seemed out of the ordinary. And he would have let the nagging sensation go, except for one thing.
It wasn’t what he saw, but what he didn’t see that bothered him. He stopped and turned. Not one local policeman was at his post. The uniforms were gone.
“What the hell…” He turned toward Sister Kate with a look of concern on his face. She noticed his expression right away and shrugged to convey she didn’t understand.
Neither of them saw what happened next until it was too late.
A blast of automatic gunfire erupted and echoed through the room. A deafening sound. He reached for his Glock as plaster rained down on his head, and he ran for cover. Complete and utter chaos followed. People ran screaming and jammed the exits. Gunmen dressed in black grabbed the guests. Men, women, and children were ordered to the floor, facedown. The assailants wore masks. Only their eyes and mouths were visible, making them appear more sinister.
Kinkaid caught a glimpse of Sister Kate across the room. She herded children toward the door to help them escape. Her black habit was hard to miss. And for the first time, he’d seen terror in her eyes when she stared back—although he knew her fear wasn’t for her own safety.
But the gunmen shut down the mass exodus, and Kinkaid was too far away to help Kate.
“Jackson…Kinkaid. We want the American!”
He heard his name called out. The armed men were looking for him.
