Seducing the Accomplice (2 page)

“We had dinner and I went to the bathroom, but when I came out, he was gone.”

“Did you check the yacht?”

“Yes. I went to the marina and the boat was gone.”

“Why did he leave you?”

“It wasn’t working out.”

“So he just left?”

She said nothing. It wasn’t the first time a relationship had ended badly.

He sighed and there was yet another silence. “How many times are we going to go through this?”

Sadie braced herself for his anger.

“I’m constantly bailing you out of these messes. If you’d have gone to college and gotten a real job, none of this would be happening. You’d be a responsible adult.”

She was a responsible adult, just not the kind who worked for him. “Daddy, when I first met Adam I thought he was nice.”

“You think every man is nice who can put up with you.”

She should be accustomed to those types of insults by now, but hearing them from her father always stung.

“I’ve had enough of your recklessness. It’s long past the time you grew up, Sadie Faye. I’ve been too lenient on you. But now I don’t think I have a choice. You’re going to have to learn how to take care of yourself.”

“I can take care of myself.” But he would never see that unless she bowed to his will.

“Then show me. Your so-called friends are always leaving you in the lurch or sticking you with the bill. Your last boyfriend lied to you about his employment status and couldn’t pay for any of the trips you went on. You moved in with him and paid for everything, or more like
I
did.”

And when said boyfriend grew tired of her, he’d dumped her.

“I could go on for an hour about how many times I’ve had to pay for your bad choices,” her father said.

“But they seem nice when I meet them,” she said quietly. She couldn’t argue with him in this area. She wasn’t any good at picking men with something to offer.

“They know who your father is. They know you come from money. When are you going to learn how to see that? How many times have I had to bring you home after your friends decide to leave without you? This happens to you all the time, Sadie.”

“Adam had money. He didn’t need yours. That’s why I thought he was different.” Maybe she was too trusting. She wanted to trust people. She wanted friends she could rely on. Real friends. But above all, she wanted a man who loved her for who she was.

Her father was silent for a long time. “I don’t want to do this, Sadie, but I think it’s the only way you’re going to learn. You’re going to have to find your own way home this time. I’m not going to help you. Not at all.”

“But…” She was in Albania. Now was not a good time for tough love. He could easily have someone intercept Adam and get her things, her passport most of all. She could be flying home tomorrow.

“Do you have a place to stay?”

“Yes.”

“Call the U.S. embassy.” He was unbending. “I’ll give you the number.”

“But—”

“Sadie.” His voice was sharp with aggravation.

She didn’t protest further. He found her a number and she jotted it down. When he finished, he disconnected.

Numbly, she called the U.S. embassy’s after-hours line. Several minutes later, she had made arrangements to go there first thing in the morning.

She checked the time. After ten. There was no way she’d get to sleep any time soon, and she couldn’t stay here and climb the walls. The bar had been full when she’d passed it on her way through the lobby. Being around other people, even if she didn’t know them or talk to them, would make her feel less alone.

She looked around the empty room. Adam had paid for it. Everything she charged to the room he’d have to pay for. He’d probably known that and hadn’t cared. Small price to pay to escape any awkward confrontation with her. But she’d charge all she could anyway. It was her only tangible retaliation until she could get home.

He should feel a lot happier than he did. Calan Friese pulled to a stop in front of the Sheraton Tirana Hotel and got out. Removing a suitcase from the back, he handed the valet parking attendant his keys and headed for the hotel entrance. After six months of ferreting information and tracking down Abu Dharr al-Majid, he’d finally gotten a solid lead. He’d almost caught up to him in Istanbul, where a hotel maid had overheard him on his cell phone telling someone that he was going to Tirana on business. Dharr was in Albania. From there, it hadn’t taken long to find him. Calan had bugged his hotel room and waited. After listening to him make plans to meet someone at an abandoned warehouse, he’d decided that was as good of an opportunity he’d have as any. He’d waited in Dharr’s car until the meeting was over and surprised him.

Opening the hotel door, Calan hauled the suitcase inside.

It was done. Finished. He’d accomplished what he’d come here to do. The terrorist who’d tried to use a U.S. arms dealer to funnel weapons through an Albanian military export company was dead. Calan had helped to expose the dealer along with a senator who’d bribed the export company to do business with Dharr. Back then, Dharr had escaped. But not this time. Two women Calan loved were dead because of Dharr. After so much time spent hunting him down, it was finally over. Dharr couldn’t hurt anyone anymore. Killing him should make him feel good. Satisfied. Triumphant. Instead, he felt…nothing.

He was still never going to see his wife again. He was still never going to see Kate again. Nothing would ease that pain. But justice had been served to a man long overdue for it, a man who needed to be stopped. Calan had stopped him.

Calan pulled the suitcase toward the elevators. The bar was busy tonight. He heard laughter and loud conversation wafting from there. The celebratory sound clashed with his mood. He didn’t feel like celebrating, but he should. He was almost angry that he didn’t. The world was free of one more terrorist. He could let go of his past now, move on, forget the tragedies and carry only the good memories. But he wasn’t sure it would be that simple.

Taking the elevator up and entering his room, he put the suitcase on the king-sized bed. Unzipping it, he lifted it open. Brushing a layer of clothes aside, he found bundles of euros stuffed tight and full inside…to the tune of about three million U.S. dollars.

Calan whistled, a solitary sound in the room. Whatever business Dharr had with the men he’d met at the warehouse, it was worth a lot of money. It also had to be illicit. Anyone doing business with Dharr couldn’t possibly be charitable. He’d have to be careful when he left the country. Best not to stay long. Thanks to the company that now employed him, that wouldn’t be difficult. He’d be gone before anyone knew what happened.

He closed the suitcase, zipped it back up and put it against the wall beside his bed. Standing in the quiet room, not knowing what he wanted to do now, he sat on a chair near the bed. Leaning his head back, he stared at the ceiling. He was too wound up to sleep. Remembering the noisy bar, he stood again and headed for the door.

It was after midnight on a Thursday and the place was booming. Calan wasn’t sure when the busy tourism season started in Albania, or even if there was such a thing, but the hotel had a crowd who felt like drinking tonight. Most of the tall rust-and-black tables surrounding the L-shaped bar were full. Soft light reflected off liquor bottles. He spotted a woman with long dark hair sitting by herself on one of the black bar stools. He recognized her right away. Even from behind she was eye-catching. Not in a model way, in her own special way. She had a presence about her. He’d noticed it when he’d helped her with the taxi. But it was the way she’d looked outside the elevator doors that had initially caught his attention. The doors had opened and there she was, a stunning woman standing with a room key in her hand, looking uncertain and confused and maybe a little frightened. He couldn’t have known what was going through her head, but he was sure there had been several thoughts. The racing mind of someone who didn’t know what to do. Something had happened to upset her, frighten her, and he’d wondered what that was. Otherwise, she’d have just been another attractive woman he passed in a hotel.

When he’d seen her go toward the exit after contemplating taking the elevator, he’d followed on a hunch. She was alone. There was no ring on her left hand. And she appeared to be American. What was a woman like her doing in Albania? The Sheraton Tirana was a nice hotel, but venture too far from here and things might get dicey in a real hurry.

When she’d gone for a taxi and he’d discovered she was going to the marina in Durres, his concern hadn’t waned. He’d heard her trying to talk to the taxi driver. She couldn’t speak the languages understood here. He’d helped her get on her way, but he’d wanted to do more. Now she was back at the hotel.

What was her story? Was she in trouble? He intended to find out. Losing two women he loved made him protective of those still living.

He chose the stool to her left. She was drinking wine and her glass was almost empty.

The bartender came over to him. “I’ll have a whiskey seven,” he said in Italian.

“I’ll have another,” she said in English, pointing to her glass a few times.

Calan told the bartender to put her tab on his.

The woman turned then. Her eyes were a little red but they were still the amazing blue he remembered when he’d gotten her the taxi. She had a small nose and alabaster skin and full lips with a pronounced heart shape. A good, strong jaw, too. She wasn’t beautiful in an all-out feminine way. Her features were stronger than that. No frailty there, which he discovered appealed to him, and that set him on edge. Helping her was one thing, but attraction was something else.

“We meet again,” he said, forcing a smile.

When she recovered from her surprise, she smiled back and echoed, “We meet again.”

“I thought you were going to Durres.”

The smile dimmed until her mouth flatlined and she faced forward to lift her wineglass. She finished off the remainder of wine.

“Change of plans?” he coaxed.

The bartender returned with their drinks. Instead of reaching for hers, she turned to him and observed him curiously.

“Are you a nice guy?” she asked.

It wasn’t what he was expecting. “That’s one way to put it.”

“Every time I meet someone I think is nice, they turn out to be someone completely different.” She sounded so sincere.

“I take it the reason you came back from Durres is because someone wasn’t nice?”

“That’s putting it mildly.” She sipped her wine.

“What happened?”

“I sailed here with my boyfriend on his yacht. We were going to spend the night here and then go back to Durres and sail to Montenegro in the morning.” She sighed long and heavy, gazing down at her glass. “He’s probably in Italy by now.”

“He
left
you here?” He cocked his head as he waited for her to answer. Her boyfriend had left her in Albania? Sailed away on his fancy yacht without her?

“Yes.”

“Why?” Could there be a good enough reason?

“It wasn’t working out and he ran like a coward.” She turned those sincere eyes to him. “I know I’ve annoyed people before, and I’ve had relationships end badly, but nobody’s ever done this to me.”

“Never had a boyfriend who’d leave you in Albania, huh?” He had to hide his anger. If the man was here now…

“No.” She sipped her wine again.

“What’s his name? Maybe I can track him down for you.” She didn’t have to know he actually could.

“Adam Krahl,” she said derisively. “He had my passport in his pocket and I don’t have much cash. All my credit cards and clothes are on his yacht. Any decent person would at least make sure I had a passport.”

Any decent person would. “The guy is obviously an ass hole.” Maybe he would track him down after all.

“Yeah. He really didn’t care about me at all, did he? I can’t believe how easy it was for him to treat me with such heartless disregard. And I didn’t even see it coming. Even after I realized we were wrong for each other.” Her eyes gave him a slow, tipsy blink. “My father is angry with me for that. He says I need to grow up. That’s why he told me to find my own way home.” She picked up her wineglass and took another sip. When she set the glass down, it fell over. She picked it up and set it upright on the table, not appearing to care that she’d spilled what remained in the glass. But she looked over at him as if expecting him to comment, the defiance in her eyes warning him that she was ready.

Affection swelled in him. If she was annoying it was because she spoke the truth and wasn’t self-conscious about her actions. She was genuine. Clumsy, maybe, but genuine. He took a handful of bar napkins from a holder and sopped up the spilled wine. When he finished, he saw that she was watching him with new interest.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

He hesitated. She had nothing to do with his reason for coming here. He didn’t see the harm in telling her. He’d be gone in the morning anyway. He just wanted to make sure she was okay. That’s all.

“Calan Friese.”

“I’m Sadie Mancini.” Her S and her C slurred. “I’d say it’s nice to meet you but I’m having a hard time thrusting people right now.”

He couldn’t help grinning. “That’s understandable.”

“But it was really nice of you to help me with that taxi driver.”

“You looked like you could use a friend.”

“Hmph. A
friend.
What are those?” She turned away, her sarcasm truer than she probably realized.

“Someone you can trust.”

That brought her gaze back to his. “Meaning you?”

It was half challenge and half flirtation. He found the combination intriguing. He also found her intriguing, and because of that, troubling. Kate’s image flashed in his mind.

“I wouldn’t leave my girlfriend anywhere, no matter where I was with her or how much I didn’t like her,” he found himself saying.

“No,” she said, contemplating him. “I don’t suppose you would.”

If she only knew. He got lost in thought until she turned her empty glass in slow, clumsy circles and started looking for the bartender.

“Have you eaten anything?” he asked. She was drinking a lot.