he is.”
“You’re paranoid.”
“I am careful and thorough, Basil. I’m just trying to protect your reputation. I didn’t do a bid for you to screw up because you’re pissed off at a little girl who managed to get the best of you.”
“She is not a little girl,” Basil said between clenched teeth. “She’s a shark masquerading as a piranha.”
Throwing back his head, Webb laughed loudly. He sobered when he saw Basil’s expression. “Do you want Justin Glover?”
“What the hell kind of question is that? Of course I want him.”
“I can get him for you, big brother.”
The buzz of the intercom preempted Basil’s reply. “Excuse me, but I have to get that.” He stood up, walked over to his desk and punched a button on the telephone console. “Yes, Camille.”
“Mr. Edwards’s secretary just called to say he’s on his way.”
“Thanks.” When he turned around Basil realized he was alone. Webb had left. He didn’t want his brother to do anything that could send him back to jail. The person he’d hired to kill Ana Cole had shot the wrong Cole. However, the hired gun vowed Ana Cole was as good as dead.
* * *
Jacob Jones maneuvered up to curbside at the Marathon airport, showed his shield and photo ID to the man who came over to the driver’s side window. The officer’s eyes shifted from the official photograph to the man with a baseball cap pulled low over his forehead. He took a step closer, glancing into the open window to see the holstered automatic weapon where his right hand rested on his thigh.
“I’m on the job,” Jacob explained. “My party is on the ground and should be here in a few minutes,” he said to the police officer. What he wanted to tell the man was that he wasn’t officially on the job, but what he had agreed to do was akin to witness protection. The difference was Ana Cole wasn’t a witness to a crime, but the intended target of a sniper with possible ties to the military.
“No problem, Marshal Jones. You have a good afternoon.”
Jacob smiled and nodded. “Thanks.”
When he’d gotten up earlier that morning he never would’ve expected a call from Diego Cole-Thomas asking whether he’d be willing to protect his cousin. It was the second day of a well-deserved eight-week vacation and Jacob planned to do nothing more than sleep late, fish, cook his catch and view several new movies in his extensive DVD collection.
Diego had also filled him in on the details of the shooting that had put Dr. Tyler Cole in the hospital with a chest wound. He wanted to refuse his friend’s request, but couldn’t because he was godfather to Diego’s son.
He also wasn’t looking forward to sharing his home with any woman. Whenever a woman crossed his threshold their stay was usually limited to a few days. One had been fortunate to stay for an extended two weeks, but anything beyond that had him formulating excuses to prepare them for their departure.
The week before he’d received an official memo mandating he take a vacation. Jacob couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually taken time off just to kick back and relax. He’d bought the house in Long Key as a retreat, a sort of safe haven where he could go and forget about the prisoners housed in the Miami federal detention centers. He’d been promoted from the field to a desk position and it wasn’t until he walked out of his office and drove south to the Keys had he realized how much he did need a vacation.
He spied Diego coming out of the terminal, his driver and bodyguard pushing a cart with designer luggage. His gaze shifted to the woman holding Diego’s hand, recognizing her immediately. The first time he saw Ana was at Diego and Vivienne Neal’s wedding, and then again at the baptism celebration for their son. It was apparent she and the man who’d come with her to the celebration following the baptism hadn’t been seeing eye-to-eye because Ana had refused to talk to or even look at him.
There was something about the expression on the petite dark-haired woman’s face that communicated to Jacob that she hadn’t come willingly. Well, he thought, as he got out of his vehicle, the feeling was definitely mutual. He wanted to dictate where and how he wanted to spend the next two months of his life without having to consider another person. But, he’d promised his friend he would look after his cousin, and for Jacob, if he gave his word then he always followed through.
Adjusting the hem of the Hawaiian-print shirt to conceal the firearm, he walked over to Diego, who’d released Ana’s hand. They shook hands and pounded each other’s backs in a rough hug. He hadn’t seen the CEO of ColeDiz in more than three months, and the first thing he noticed was he’d claimed a bit more gray hair.
“How’s it going, buddy?”
“It’s all good,” Diego answered.
“How’s the family?”
“They’re good. Vivienne’s been asking about you.”
“I’d planned to take a few days off and come up to see you guys, but that was before you called me.”
Diego put his arm around Ana’s waist. “Ana, do you remember Jacob? He came to my wedding and the baptism.”
She stared at the tall man in the gaudy shirt and tattered Miami Dolphins cap. Her gaze went from his face down to his jeans and worn sandals before reversing to linger on his face. He wasn’t what she would consider handsome; nonetheless he was attractive in a masculine sort of way despite his tacky shirt and ragged hat. His dark eyes in a face the color of golden-brown autumn leaves were mesmerizing.
“Yes, I do remember him.”
What she meant was she’d remembered him from the baptism, but not the wedding. Then he’d worn a tailored suit and shoes. But that was all she’d recalled because the man who’d come with her to the soiree that followed the sacrament at the church had made it his intent to put pressure on her to take their friendship to the next level. What he hadn’t realized was that there was no next level, but that hadn’t stopped him from reacting like a spoiled child when she’d told him it was to become their last date.
Jacob extended his hand, palm up. “And I remember you.” He wasn’t disappointed when she placed her tiny hand on his, he giving her fingers a gentle squeeze before he released them. He nodded to the taciturn driver/bodyguard who’d removed his sunglasses and wiped his face and sable-brown shaved head with a snow-white handkerchief. Despite the heat Henri wore a black suit, tie and white shirt. He hadn’t removed his jacket, and Jacob knew the man always carried a concealed handgun whenever he traveled with Diego.
“Hello, Henri.”
“Mr. Jones.”
Pressing a button on the fob to the Jeep, the hatch lifted as Henri carried Ana’s bags to the SUV, then returned to assist her up onto the passenger seat. “I’ll take good care of her,” Jacob promised Diego.
“I know you will.” He leaned closer. “She’s not too happy about this.”
“She’ll get over it.”
Diego’s eyebrows lifted as he stared at his cousin sitting in the vehicle. She was so still she could’ve been made of stone. “I’ll call you with updates.”
“I hope it won’t take too long to catch the bastard. By the way, how’s Tyler?”
“He’ll be released tomorrow. He’s going to stay in West Palm until he’s cleared to fly. His wife and children are here, so there’s no need for him to worry about rushing back to Mississippi.”
Jacob rested a hand on Diego’s shoulder. “I know you have your people on this, but tell them to concentrate on rogue professional snipers, former-military or even SWAT.”
“We’re going to find him, Jacob, and hopefully there’ll be something left to prosecute.” Diego saw Henri tap the face of his