Bounty Hunters: 03 Stay Hungry (9 page)

Her father sighed. Angela's chest constricted. She held on to her cell tight enough to pinch the skin on her palm. Her mind raced, scenario after scenario playing out as she considered his complacent mood. His continual redirecting every time she asked who he was looking for made her worry even more.

"Who is the missing person?" she asked, her voice tangled with emotions.

"Marianna." This time her father spoke without ceremony. "Your mother called me several days ago to make sure your half-sister had arrived okay."

If Angela hadn't been sitting, she possibly would have fallen over. A small sound escaped her throat as she tried to speak.

"But," she managed, her mind unable to wrap around her father's response. She hadn't come up with any plausible answers her father might give her, but this one definitely did not compute.

"Your mother told me you two had been planning for her to visit us here in Chicago."

"Planning." Angela stressed the word. "We hadn't set a date."

"Marianna flew into LAX over a week ago. I confirmed she got off the plane in Los Angeles. The odd thing was that she didn't claim all her luggage. No one can say where she went after that."

"Marianna flew into LA." She didn't make it a question and still couldn't wrap her brain around any of this. Marianna wasn't missing. She couldn't be. They had talked daily online about Angela's half-sister that she hadn't seen since she was a teenager coming to Chicago. But Marianna was still in Buenos Aires. She had to be.

Angela hadn't checked her e-mail, or Facebook, since the day they'd confirmed Mandela was in Chicago. Angela had immediately been on his tail. Since then, there hadn't been time to chat with anyone. When her life was on hold, everyone else was supposed to know that. But how could Marianna have known that if the last they'd chatted, Angela hadn't been working a case?

"Yes, she definitely was on the plane to L.A., and she disembarked." Her father's matter-of-fact, all business--just the facts and nothing but the facts--tone grated on her nerves.

Angela was suddenly terrified that to her father Marianna was just another client. At the same time, it was also suddenly crystal clear why her father hadn't wanted to tell her. It made sense. Even though Marinna was from her mom's second marriage and her father had never met her, he knew how much Marianna meant to Angela.

Marianna was the radiant sunshine on Angela's cloudy day. She was the hopeful optimist to Angela's jaded world. Marianna was all that was pure, perfect, and untarnished. Talking to her online had always lifted Angela's mood, and over the past year as they'd gotten to know each other all over again, having her come stay with Angela and her father for a while had sounded like the perfect plan.

"We hadn't finalized her coming up here to visit."

The moment she and her father had determined a game player was in Chicago, Angela had forgotten about her own life and she'd gone undercover that evening after trailing Mandela around all day. Her personal life had faded in lieu of the investigation.

Angela moved to her laptop and typed frantically, willing her e-mail to open, and at the same time pulling up Facebook.

"I'll find her, Angela."

She barely heard her father trying to reassure her when her e-mail finally opened. Angela scrolled through a week's worth of junk mail and spam. "Damn it," she hissed, spotting Marianna's e-mail and clicking on it to open.

"What is it?"

"Marianna sent mail to me later that afternoon after we last chatted." Angela stared at the e-mail when it opened and read the excitement and happiness in Marianna's words. Her throat constricted and she swallowed several times before she could speak. "It says she managed to find a cheap flight out of Buenos Aires and she jumped on it since there were only a couple seats left. She flew out later that day," she finished, her voice going out on her. Every inch of her was too tense to catch her next breath. This couldn't be happening. "My God, Dad! Has she been missing over a week?"

"When your mother couldn't reach you, or Marianna, she called me. Marianna hadn't called to say she'd landed safely and she had promised her mother she would call the moment she had a signal."

Her father's words weren't registering in her head. "Mom called you and not me?"

Angela's parents had hated each other enough to reside in different countries after their divorce. Angela had moved with her mom to Buenos Aires, in Argentina. She'd been three at the time. Her father had sent letters often, and Angela always wrote back. When Angela had turned sixteen, she moved back to the states, leaving her younger sister, who'd been only eleven at the time, and her mother, for the exciting life of a detective's daughter.

"The night she called, I was parked in the car outside Enclave. I couldn't believe you got in to that club. The place was packed and I was watching for you, or Mandela, to come out, which had been hard as hell to do with a nonstop group of people hovering around the entrance. I would have sent the call to voicemail if I hadn't recognized the Argentina country code."

"Why didn't you tell me?" she demanded. Angela fought the urge to scream. Why the hell hadn't her father found Marianna yet? James Huxtable was the best out there and her half-sister had been missing over a week? It made no sense.

Angela pulled up the archives from when she and Marianna had chatted on Yahoo Messenger and scanned their conversations but saw nothing that indicated there was anything Marianna wanted to do in the states other than visit Angela. "Why didn't I check my mail before now? Do you have a trail on her at all?"

"Your mom called when the airline contacted her about Marianna's luggage."

"Her luggage?"

"She picked up one suitcase but not the other."

"That doesn't make sense."

"Her flight arrived at LAX in Los Angeles on Sunday morning," Angela's dad told her. "I've spoken with the airline and one of the stewardesses remembers her being on the flight. She said she remembered Marianna because of her excitement to come see her sister who she hadn't seen for seven years in the states. I've confirmed everyone got off the plane. Marianna picked up one suitcase but left the other."

"So she takes one suitcase off the luggage conveyer belt and leaves the other. Marianna wouldn't have just forgotten it. What was in the suitcase she left behind?"

"It was sent back to Buenos Aires. But according to the description, Mona told me that was the suitcase Marianna stuffed a photo album in, under her clothes. She'd glued an envelope inside the album that had cash and credit cards in it."

"Christ. She left it behind on purpose." Angela felt sick. Marianna was only eighteen, entering a country she'd never been to before, and so excited to embark on her new adventure. "She knew something was wrong. God! My little sister comes to see me, is barely in the U.S., and something terrible happens to her. Dad, where the hell is she?"

"I'm not sure," he said slowly.

Angela understood now why her father had hesitated to tell her that her sister was missing. This was even more of a distraction than Jake had been. Angela's anger peaked faster than her confusion had. She blew out an exasperated sigh, imagining wherever Marianna was right now, she was in serious danger and terrified. Marianna was the sweetest thing on earth, incapable of hurting a fly, and with a heart that was solid gold.

Angela voiced her fears. "Someone kidnapped her."

"How were the two of you communicating?" her dad asked instead of commenting.

"On Facebook, Yahoo Messenger, and e-mail."

"Can she send you a message there that you would get next time you got on the computer?"

"Yes."

"And there aren't any messages?"

"Nothing." Angela wanted to bust the case with Mandela wide open. She would quite possibly make serious headway tonight at his home. Ending the game would secure her reputation as an investigator, and save the lives of so many innocent people. She would have been beyond livid if her father had held out much longer and not told her about Marianna. But knowing had her torn up inside.

"She e-mailed her itinerary after our last chat. The e-mail didn't offer any information they didn't already know. After following Mandela from night club to night club and getting him to notice me, I then focused all my attention on settling in here at the Drake and making a show of being the rich prima donna to all of the staff. I needed my cover intact when he checked up on me. And you know he checked. What happens when you try calling her?"

"Straight to voice mail. I know it's pointless telling you not to worry. You do need to focus on Mandela and the game, Angela. Jake is there to protect you. Don't make his job too hard. I will find Marianna. At least I won't have to worry about you as much with Jake King on your side."

Angela never knew her father was that impressed with the Kings. Normally there were very few people in his profession whom her father thought much of at all. He wasn't conceited, but James Huxtable took his job seriously and didn't approve of anyone who didn't meet his high standards. She seriously doubted Jake had a clue how much of a compliment her father had paid him by seeking him out to be her backup.

"You really think that much of him?" she asked, unable to stop herself.

"I don't know him," her father said without hesitating. "KFA has a solid reputation."

"I just wondered. There are quite a few good candidates here in Chicago you could have asked to run backup."

"Not for you, there aren't," he said, his tone lowering as if this subject upset him. "Get yourself ready for your evening. I'll let you know if I head back to L.A."

"What leads are you working on?"

He didn't answer right away, which wasn't a good sign. Angela sucked in a deep breath, unable to get the painful lump in her gut to go away. Her little sister was out there somewhere, and they didn't know where.

"I'm trying to get permission to view the security camera footage that should show Marianna getting the one suitcase she left with, and if anyone was with her."

"Of course someone was with her. She wouldn't have left her suitcase with her money and credit cards in it if there wasn't something seriously wrong. Someone abducted her. She was taken the moment she got off the plane. You've got to view those security tapes immediately."

"I will. There is paperwork and procedure," he said, disparagingly.

"Paperwork and procedures can go to hell," she grumbled. "You need to find her, Dad."

"I will."

The firmness in his voice ended her tirade before she got going. James Huxtable was the best man to be looking for Marianna. It made Angela sick beyond comprehension that her little sister had been missing a week. There were many other families with the same sense of panic and grief, who also had loved ones missing, thanks to the game. As much as Angela wanted to jump on the next plane and trace Marianna's steps from the moment she got off that plane, she had to trust her dad.

"Why didn't you stay out in L.A. and look for her?" she demanded, getting a second wind and ready to scream and yell until something made sense to her.

"I'll be able to view the security camera footage online, once my request is approved. Hopefully, I'll get a good look at her abductor. Then I'll run his picture against pictures of anyone with a record, or who had been booked, or who has ever worked for a government agency or the many other types of employment that demand security photos as part of their policy."

"How long does it take to get approval to view the footage?" Along with worry and panic, Angela was pissed. She would kill whoever took Marianna if they so much as laid a finger on her.

"Airport security is a separate company and is not associated with the airlines. It was a lot of work getting through to the right channels so they would expedite matters. I hope to have access to them in the next twenty-four hours." Her father's tone relayed what he wouldn't voice. He was on edge about Marianna's disappearance. "But I'm here in Chicago to make sure my daughter doesn't disappear, too."

Chapter Five

Jake stared at his missed calls, glancing at each woman's name before deleting. It was a damn good thing his phone was on Silent. Angela would have thrown a fit if she'd known how many women had texted or called while Angela had been in his room. He deleted three texts without bothering to read them.

Angela claimed he was incapable of being with a woman without trying to seduce her. That wasn't true. Jake never had a problem separating work from play. He took both very seriously. Jake glanced at his phone and the screen that had gone dark. He wasn't sure he could separate the two when it came to Angela, however. Hell, he didn't want to. There wasn't any play when it came to her. But his urge to make love to her went far beyond wanting to play.

"She'll think she's another conquest on a rather long list," he said with disgust, deleting the last text message and tossing his phone on his bed.

How in the hell did Angela know anything about his personal life anyway? KFA's reputation was known nationwide. They'd been in the papers and on the news numerous times. KFA's track record was perfect. But Jake's personal life never hit the papers, TV, or even the Internet. He'd always handled his affairs with women very discreetly. There wasn't any way Angela had proof whether he played the field or not. She'd made an educated guess and hit it on the nose.

"Right on the fucking nose," he grumbled,

Angela was still on his lips. Hell, he could still smell her in his hotel room. The raw, unleashed energy pulsated around him. Jake knew how to switch gears, though.

He would call home, check e-mail, and take a long, cold shower. But not in that order. Jake stripped and headed to the bathroom, his thoughts already returning to Angela.

An hour later Jake sat in his boxers at the desk in the hotel room and booted up his computer while calling home.

"Dad, it's me," Jake said when Greg King answered after the first ring.

"Make it in okay?"

"Yup. I've been here an hour or so."

"Have you seen Huxtable? How about his daughter? She got a handle on that case to bring the game down?"

Jake pulled his phone from his ear for a moment when another call started beeping through. It dawned on him as he stared at the name of one of the ladies he knew in L.A. on his phone's screen that he hadn't given Angela his personal cell phone number.

He grunted at his father's comment. "Angela seems to have her act together." In more than one way although Jake knew his father didn't care what Jake thought of her personally. "I'll tell you this: she's bossy and demanding," he offered, figuring that summed her up well enough for his father.

Greg didn't miss a beat. "Damn. Sounds like you might have just met the perfect girl for you," he said, surprising Jake.

"The perfect woman for me would not be someone who is bossy and demanding."

His father muttered something Jake didn't catch, which was followed by his mother's cheerful laugh.

"I know this young lady is beautiful. I saw her picture, too. Does 'bossy and demanding' mean she won't submit to the famous King charm?"

"What woman could resist that?" Jake's mother said in the background, still laughing.

"That's not what I meant," Jake insisted. "Angela is bossy, but she's determined to pull off the case of a lifetime." He was defending Angela to his father.

"You two have your game plan all worked out?"

"Not yet." Although Jake wouldn't be surprised if Angela returned to him with every detail laid out. "We met briefly after I checked in. She went upstairs to her room. I just got out of the shower and figured I'd call you before checking back in with her."

"What happens tonight?"

"She is going to Mandela's. Apparently she's spent the past few days getting close to the man, working her way into his playground. She's planted a few bugs."

"She's moved in fast." His father let out a low whistle. "Stay focused on this one, Jake."

"I know how dangerous this case is. That's why I'm here."

"Your mother is worried," his father said tightly. "I am, too."

"Tell her I'll be fine."

His entire family had entered into life-threatening situations at times when a hunt got dangerous. Jake knew this case ranked right up there. He recognized the spike of adrenaline and knew soon he would be trailing Angela.

"I don't have to tell you how fatal it would be to let your thoughts stray while running a stakeout."

Jake's temper spiked at the insinuation his father was making. "I'm not going to make moves on her while she's under cover."

"Something about this girl appeals to you,
and,
" Greg stressed, "this case appeals to you, or you wouldn't be out there. Keep a few things in mind. The first one being bounty hunting is illegal in Illinois. If Mandela learns you're out there and decides to take you down and can't do it in his normal fashion, he'll use whatever means to stop you from tracking him."

"Point taken," Jake agreed, knowing his father was right.

"Here's something else for you to consider." His father paused and this time silence grew between them. Jake knew Greg was making sure his son was paying attention. It was a ploy his father had used for years. "I saw the picture of Angela Huxtable. She is an incredibly beautiful young woman. Obviously she has some pretty decent detective skills, too. I know how that combination appeals to a King man. But she got you thrown in jail once already. Mandela might not be your only adversary. She's worked this case for over a year now and probably believes she's closing in. From what you've described, she'll want the glory for solving this case. Jake, promise me, don't let your guard down. Take my advice on this one, Son."

There weren't many times when Jake would say his father was wrong about something. But in this case, Jake knew Angela wasn't that type of woman. She would be satisfied with solving the case. All the glory and hype and media attention wouldn't be her style. It wasn't something Jake thrived on either.

"Your advice is well noted, Dad. I'll give you a call tomorrow and update you on everything," Jake promised, ready to end the scrutinization of his personality. "Now let me talk to Mom so she doesn't call me later and accuse me of ignoring her."

There was one more call to make after talking to his parents, and he had a feeling his call was being expected. "Huxtable," he said, lowering his voice when the older man answered the phone.

"Are you with my daughter?"

"I'm not with her right now."

"But you know where she is, right?"

"I assume in her room."

"You assume?" Huxtable snapped. "This isn't a game, King."

"I don't play games. I'm not going to crowd her space when she insists on alone time, either. I was with her at the elevator and watched it climb to her floor after she left my room. I'm heading up there after I finish talking to you."

"My daughter is already making her game plan for the evening."

That didn't surprise Jake any more than the fact that Huxtable already knew his daughter was in her room and what she was doing in there. "I'll head up there to go over everything with her."

"Angela will insist on running the show. You let her do that, Son. Do you understand me?"

Jake had a feeling it didn't matter whether he understood or not, as long as he agreed.

Huxtable didn't wait for Jake's response. "She's spent a lot of time working this case and firmly believes her angle is the best one. You're going to go along with whatever she says to do. If you believe she's made a bad decision, contact me. I'll take care of it. Right now, if you cross her, it will only make matters worse. You'll do a lot better working with Angela if you do as she says and make sure she always feels she is in charge."

Jake shook his head, clearly seeing that "bossy" and "demanding" were genetic traits in this family. "I'll guarantee your daughter's safety and promise you no one will harm her." How Jake would do that was his own damn business.

"I know you will. Now give me your account number and I'll transfer some of your money into it right now so you can cover expenses while you're here."

"You'll deposit two grand tonight into my personal account. As soon as this case is wrapped up, you'll deposit two more.
An-n-n-d,
" he added, stressing the one word and drawing it out before Huxtable could say anything, "you will fax a contract of agreement to KFA. I'm not leaving this room to check on your daughter's whereabouts until I get a call from home letting me know the signed contract has come through."

* * *

Jake King was a pompous ass. Angela hated him. She hated Jake for causing her skin to tingle, for making her insides ache and crave his touch again. And right now wasn't the time to be thinking about another man, not when she was walking through Mario's living room. It was impossible not thinking about the man who'd entered her hotel room earlier tonight. Jake had respected her ideas, listened to her game plan, and agreed to almost everything she suggested. Angela almost had believed they could work together, until he'd pierced her with a gaze so compelling, so controlling and predatory, she'd almost forgotten to breathe.

"I'm going to tell you what I just told your father," Jake had said, moving in on her the way a deadly predator would stalk its prey. "I know how to take orders. But regardless of what you tell me to do, or not do, I will guarantee your safety. No one will harm you," he continued, his voice dropping to a low growl when he stopped in front of her, then brushed his knuckles down her cheek. "Your game plan is impressive, sweetheart. Sounds like you'll be in his home tonight. Just remember the image you've given Mandela, though. If you aren't out of there by ten, I'm coming in after you."

Jake wouldn't tolerate her sleeping with Mandela. It had been on the tip of her tongue to promise Jake she had no intentions of allowing the asshole to get anywhere near going that far with her. If she had made that promise, though, Jake would make more demands, insist she follow his instruction the next time, and the time after that. Angela wasn't about to let that happen. She'd remained quiet, staring up into his smoldering green eyes. Although she'd managed to maintain control verbally, when Jake had lowered his mouth to hers Angela hadn't been able to move. He'd swept her off her feet with a kiss so hot, so intoxicating and mind-blowing, he'd damn near made her come while standing there with his arms wrapped around her.

Which put her body in even more conflict. Marianna was missing. Her father suggested that if Angela knew her sister was out there somewhere, taken against her will, it would distract her while she was with Mandela. Instead she was acutely aware of her surroundings. And at the same time sending up repeated silent prayers that her sister was okay.

Angela paused in the middle of the living room, forcing herself to take in its contents. Her thoughts should be focused on everything around her, on Mario. She was here to do a job and nothing could prevent her from being the professional she knew she was.

"This way,
mi amore.
" Mario took her hand and guided her across the large, pretentious living room. There was enough furniture in the room to turn it into several living rooms. "You're either love struck by my company or in awe of my home."

Angela caught him grinning at her, the smile on his face too intense to be sincere. She'd ran her fingers over the back of one of the couches, noting that the furniture appeared brand-new and as if no one had ever used any of it. She matched his smile and fought the urge to glance behind her when Mario looked past her. His black eyes gleamed as they did when his mood changed.

"Marco, the lady is drinking whiskey and Coke and I'll have my usual."

Angela turned to catch a man in a black suit nod once before disappearing from the doorway. He looked more like a security guard than a servant and she clutched her small handbag that held her cell phone and a small amount of cash, just a few twenties of emergency money in case she needed it. Her biggest treasure at the moment, though, was her phone. The prepaid phone had bogus numbers saved to it, just to make it look like a normal phone. But the only number called, or received, was Mario's. Hopefully Mario would never get the chance to look through her numbers, but if he did, nothing could incriminate her.

"You haven't told me which one it is," Mario said, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips.

"What? Oh." Angela didn't have to work too hard to blush but hoped Mario would think her distraction was due to him being so close to her. "Your home is breathtaking," she whispered, sounding enamored.

"So it's my home that impresses you and not me." He sounded sincerely disappointed.

This coming from a man who'd had sex with another woman earlier today. Angela fought off the disgust that rose like bile in her throat as she leaned against him and went up on her tiptoes. Mario was a tall man but nothing in comparison to Jake.

"I figured you already knew what I thought of you," she whispered, and nipped playfully at Mario's lower lip.

"A man loves being praised," Mario informed her, straightening and slapping her rear end hard enough for it to sting.

"And maybe a little rough, too?" She batted her eyes at him and caught his expression darken again.

Repulsion turned her stomach and she walked out of his arms, moving ahead of him as if she would explore his home without invitation. Mario was right behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her back against him.

"No woman talks like that unless it's an invitation."

She twisted slightly in his arms, and when he tried kissing her she angled her face just right so he managed to peck at her cheek. He smelled of garlic and alcohol, and she wondered how much he'd already had to drink. "Not too rough, darling," she whispered. "I wouldn't want you to hurt me."

Mario stiffened and stared into her eyes. "Do you worry I might hurt you,
mi amore
?" he asked, his accent thickening as he pulled her against him. "Does it excite you, or terrify you, knowing I have the power to destroy?" he whispered, holding her against him as he spoke in a soft whisper into her hair.