Wanted (4 page)

“What’s that,
Ernie?”

“They seemed
more like an actor’s version than the real deal. A bad actor’s version, at
that.”

“You don’t
think they were really from the FBI?”

“No, I don’t.
And I wrote down their badge numbers. I’m going to try to trace them. You saw
both of them, right?”

“Yeah, they
interviewed me.”

“Well, f they
show up, you watch yourself, okay?”

“I will, and
thanks, Ernie love.”

“You know I’m
always here for you, sis. Take care.”

She nodded, sat
staring at the blank screen after he signed off. Ernie was more like a brother
to her than Dennis had ever been. He came from a poor family but he never once
accepted her offers of help or treated her differently for being born rich. He
was the kind who believed in making his own destiny. He worked two jobs and
studied at UCLA part time whenever he could save enough for tuition. His dream
was to be able to create CGI landscapes and otherworldly beings for movies and
video games. He’d made a good living for himself, bought a cool Craftsman house
in Westwood with his Asian girlfriend, Lu Jiang, who was a wardrobe supervisor
for a cop series at CBS Studios. Tierney envied them, more than once she wished
she could live the hip LA lifestyle, without a camera in her face or her
parents making all her decisions.

“When this mess
is over I’m going to find my dream and live it!” she sighed.

Travers cooked
a light breakfast of eggs and toast, with juice and more of his excellent
coffee. She helped him cast off, was used to boating though she never enjoyed
it much with her parents. They always had to turn it into a competition between
her and Dennis, to see who could do this better or that. It was never for fun
or relaxation. As she stood near the stern of the yacht, watching the seagulls
and listening to them shriek, she saw the rear view mirror images of her
parents’ faces again. Their expressions were not loving or nurturing. Did
aliens put some giant seed pods in their closets while they were sleeping? But,
seriously, they’d never been the nurturing type. Still, she couldn’t imagine
them having a reason to want her dead.

They made the
trip south over a calm, crystal blue ocean. It was almost too beautiful.
Tierney found the time to breathe, to simply live, without worrying about the
style of her hair, or how much make-up she was wearing, or what designer clothes
her fans might rave about. She cut the legs off her jeans to give her more
freedom to move, and rolled up the sleeves of her T shirt so her arms would get
tan. She wished she’d brought a bikini but she’d been in such a rush she hadn’t
even put on any underwear; which made dressing easier though a bit drafty once
the winds changed.

“My daughter left
some outfits in the guest room bureau,” Travers told her their second day out.
“She’s about your size. I don’t think she’d mind if one of her favorite reality
stars wore her clothes.”

He grinned.
Tierney thanked him and entered the guest room to look for something fresh. She
found a pink polka dot bikini and some nice but preppy shorts. A few shirts and
sundresses, too; nothing fancy, but then she wasn’t out to impress anybody. She
slipped on the bikini and a pair of pink shorts, ran up to the deck.

A boat came
sloshing up beside Travers’ yacht. Two men ventured towards them.

“Careful, girl.
Go below. I’ll do the talking.” Travers whispered then he turned to the men.
“What can I do for you, gentlemen?”

Tierney watched
from a porthole as the men stepped aboard. Both seemed to be shadowing their
faces on purpose with caps and lowered heads.

“Do you have a
Miss Evans on your boat?”

“No, I don’t.
My daughter and I are out here to have a bit of fun … fishing, you know. Great
weather for it!”

“Tell her to
come up,” the other man ordered.

Tierney peered
hard at the men – she gasped as she realized it was the same two who had
interviewed her the day before. But they weren’t wearing suits, and they hadn’t
flashed any FBI badges! Travers was in danger. She knew it. But what could she
do about it?

She searched
the hull for weapons, found a small automatic in a drawer. It wasn’t loaded.
She removed some cartridges from a case, began to clumsily load the gun.

“I’m no Annie
Oakley,” she thought, her hands shaking, “but Istvan did show me how to use one
of these things.”

She hurried
back to the porthole, in time to see the two men assaulting Travers in tandem,
and him fighting back like a pudgy wildcat. Tierney ran up top and pointed the
gun at the men.

“Back off,
jerks! And leave him alone!”

They stopped
fighting, reared back to look at her. One laughed.

“Put that down,
Miss Evans. We’re not playing games here.”

“I’m not
playing either. Let him be!”

They studied
the set of her jaw, nodded to each other and stepped back. Travers came to her,
took the gun.

“Nice work.” He
pointed the gun at the men. “I suggest you two get on your own boat and head
off. And no more trouble.”

“Right,” one
huffed. They eased over onto their boat. Both began to smile as they cleared
out.

“Why are they …
oh, God, do you hear that ticking?”

Tierney ran to
the side of the boat. The creeps had placed a bomb on the side and it was
ticking down to zero.

“Not again!
Travers, hit the water, quick!”

They both
jumped for the blue, splashed in just as the bomb went boom, splitting the
yacht into kindling.

“Are you all
right?” Travers yelled as he and Tierney were bombarded by debris.

“No, my leg, it
hurts, bad. What’ll we do? We’re stuck out here in the middle of nowhere! And
if my leg is bleeding, the damned sharks will be on us in minutes!”

“Don’t panic,
girl. We can make that island.” He pointed his gaze towards a dark gray, barren
mound sticking out of the sea. “If you can’t use your leg, hold on to my neck!
I’ll get you there!”

She nodded,
clung to his thick freckled neck as he bounced towards the island. It was
uninhabited, by humans, anyway. But there were sea lions lounging in the
afternoon sun, and elephant seals honking at each other as they cooled
themselves on the wet shore. A moray eel passed by the swimmers; Tierney
squealed.

“It won’t hurt
you, unless you get too close! Scoot up a bit, I’m losing you.”

She readjusted
her grip, tried to relax as he kept going. Her leg stung like fire, the salt
water invading her wound. She wanted to be strong for Travers’ sake. He wasn’t
young, and the effort of dragging her to shore was undoing him. He breathed
hard, and fast – Tierney feared he might have a stroke.

“Let me off. I
can swim in.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

He slid her
off; she began to swim, holding all the bad memories of her childhood at bay
for only so long. Then they poured out of her psyche – the miserable hours she
was forced to swim back and forth in the lap pool, endless hours of tears and
pain. Her parents were constantly berating her for being lazy and unwilling to
try to excel, as her mother had. A child has really only one desire in their
life – to please their parents. And she had tried, valiantly. But they could
never seem to acknowledge that. They were interested in her if she did exactly
what they wanted, with the expected results. Otherwise, she was a damned
nuisance.

“Is it much
farther?” she asked; her limbs were giving out.

“Not much. Hold
on, girl! You can make it!”

Tierney felt
something hovering nearby. There was a black shadow in the water, with a fin.

“It’s a shark!
Travers, help me!”

“Stay calm.
We’re almost there!”

“But I’m
bleeding! He’s coming for me. I know it!”

She was
freaking out, losing every last bit of control.

“Be still,
now!” Travers commanded. “Don’t let him see you panic!”

She was crying,
hysterical, thrashing around like a fool, making herself a target.

Then there came
a shot from far off, and another, and another. The water danced with every hit.
The shark scurried off into the depths of the sea.

“Hello!”
Travers shouted. “Leave it to you to make a hero’s entrance!”

Tierney looked
to where he was shouting. A ragged yacht was speeding towards them. At the helm
she could see Kiel Fortune, as beautiful and golden as a pirate in a
Technicolor epic.

CHAPTER THREE

Tierney woke in
a warm, clean bed on Kiel’s boat. She was naked, sheathed by a thin blue
knitted blanket. Her leg was bandaged, still stinging like the devil. Speaking
of whom, Kiel Fortune entered the room, eyed her with a strange melancholy that
unnerved her.

“You feeling
better?”

“Yeah, I guess
so. Did I pass out?”

“You did.”

“Sorry. You
must think I’m an awful wimp.”

“No, actually
you’ve dealt with this stuff a lot better than most would. Is your leg still
hurting?”

“Some, but not
like it was. Where’s Travers?”

“He’s on deck,
minding things.”

She glanced out
a small window. The sky was indigo, lit up with a crescent moon and about a
zillion glittering stars.

“It’s night.”

“Yeah.”

God, what an
idiot she must seem to him! Usually she could talk to a guy with the sweetest
phrases and sexiest suggestions until he had to give in or bust. But she didn’t
know what to say to a man like Kiel. He wasn’t some airhead jock or moody
pianist. There were sorrows in his eyes that defied categorization. Things he’d
probably never reveal to a living soul. To a complicated, intelligent man like him
she was just a shallow, reality show diva, not worth the time of day.

“I hope you
don’t mind but I had to take your clothes off. I washed them and hung them out
to dry.”

“Oh, sure,
thanks.” He’d seen her naked? She wasn’t at her best asleep. Istvan said she
snored, and sometimes drooled – ugh! But who could believe anything he said?

“You’re a … a
beautiful girl,” Kiel whispered unexpectedly. She dared to peer into his
cinnamon eyes, glistening in the dim lamplight. What was she seeing there now?
He closed the door, stepped closer; sat next to her on the bed. “Travers told
me everything.”

“What do you
mean by everything?”

“He told me
about the guys who tried to kill you two. And he told me why you’re here. You
came looking for me. Right?”

She let her
gaze wash over his face; licked her dry lips in anticipation.

“You must think
I’m really arrogant, or stupid, to come after you.”

“No, I believe
if you want something, or someone, bad enough, you’ll find a way to get to
them. So, do you want me, Tierney?”

She didn’t
answer in words but raised her arms and wrapped them about his neck. He leaned
in, touched her lips with his, opening them wide enough to taste her. The waves
shot through her like prickly little fires, standing all her senses on end. His
strong hands enveloped her as he twisted round to lay down close beside her.
The blanket fell to the floor – as did his jeans. Her mouth gaped wide when she
saw the hard length of him. Her fingers clasped him, explored him; worked him
over roughly. He moaned, growling with a throaty tone that excited her. She
kissed the soft hair on his chest, breathed in the scent of him. He smelled of
earth and salt and endless sky. The clouds in his eyes remained as he molded
her with his hot mouth and hands, though a flame had sparked within the
centers, drawing her in with its warmth. She smiled as he moved his lips over
her breasts, almost screamed when he slid down between her thighs and lapped at
her like a thirsty animal.

“Do you want
me, Tierney? Say it! I need to hear you say it, loud!”

“Yes, I want
you, Kiel! Like I’ve never wanted anyone before! Kiss me; make love to me until
you drive me insane!”

He seemed
satisfied by her words, rose up and plunged into her madly; hitting his target
so desperately that she feared he would break her thin frame in two. But she
took every inch, held him tight within her thighs, not letting go for one
moment. She was lost in a spiral of heat and mist, happily gorging on him until
he was spent to the core. He groaned in torment, loosened himself from her and
began to pull on his jeans.

“Get some
sleep. We’ll be at my hacienda by noon tomorrow.”

He left the
room without glancing back at her. She was stunned. Nobody had ever treated her
like a third rate hooker before. She wanted a chance to savor the ecstasy that
he had given her. Talk about rockets to the sun! Wow! She wanted to talk to
him, to really know what made him tick. And she needed to find a way to
vanquish that impenetrable sorrow from his eyes. But now she was cold and
shivering, the crash had come too quick. Damn him. Who did he think he was?

Tierney wrapped
the blue blanket around her like a sari, and stomped through the boat’s living
quarters, searching for Kiel. She heard voices above deck, followed them to the
stern where Travers and Kiel stood conspiring.

“You should be
resting, girl!” Travers decided as he lit up a foul-smelling cigar.

“I need to talk
to our host, if you don’t mind.”