his childhood.
The only family he claimed was the Aggie Four, the closeknit group of friends he’d made while attending college at Texas A&M. An unlikely group of young men brought together by hard times, their own isolation and a need for friendship. He’d die for any one of them and they’d do the same.
A wave of sadness washed over Ysabel. The Aggie Four was now down to three. Even after three months, Viktor Romanov and his family’s deaths still burned in her chest. She could imagine how Jackson felt. As his assistant, Ysabel had been involved in many meetings of the Aggie Four and come to know the men Jackson valued as friends on a more personal basis.
The young prince of Rasnovia had struggled to bring his country into the future. With the help and financial support of the Aggie Four Foundation, they’d combined forces to rebuild the small nation after its split from Russia. Democracy and capitalism had been introduced and flourished until a group of rebels overran the Romanovs, killing them and plunging the country into civil war.
A lot had happened in the past few months to all of the Aggie Four. She suspected it was more than coincidence. She sucked in a deep breath and turned to Tom, a smile spreading across her face. “So, how was your first day with the great Jackson Champion?”
Tom grinned. “Wow, the man’s a dynamo! I’d no sooner gotten here then he was leaping onto a forklift and chasing after another.” He filled her in on what had happened with the runaway forklift driver and the ensuing explosion.
“Any idea what caused the explosion?”
Tom’s smile faded. “The firefighters found evidence of detonators in the debris. The detonators might have set off the propane tank on the forklift. The man driving…” Tom shook his head. “Not pretty.”
The wind shifted, pushing the damp smell of charred wood and flesh toward Ysabel. Her stomach lurched. She’d had only two bouts of nausea in the past two weeks. That plus the missed period had clued her into the fact she might be pregnant. She pressed a hand to her mouth and willed her stomach to behave.
Jackson stalked back toward Ysabel and Tom, his face set in tight lines. “Detective Brody is breathing fire and trying to come up with reasons to throw me in jail.”
Ysabel swallowed hard, hoping her stomach would stay down. “Why?”
“He wants to pin the shipment of detonators on me and Champion Shipping, not to mention slapping a murder charge on me for the thief’s death.” Jackson ran his hand through his hair, making the dark locks stand on end. “I’ll need that emergency meeting of the Aggie Four to happen first thing tomorrow morning.”
She nodded, afraid to open her mouth. Another waft of pungent air hit her and her stomach burbled.
“We’ll meet at McKade’s ranch house. I could use the fresh air.” He glanced around the container yard, shaking his head. “If the Department of Homeland Security sinks its teeth into this, it could shut down Champion Shipping indefinitely.”
Ysabel knew they could and she understood the impact to their customers and cash flow. They could lose millions.
“The detective said I could go but to expect more questions.” Jackson turned to Tom. “Did you drive your own car?”
“Yes, sir.”
“No need for you to ruin your night. I’ll see you tomorrow in the office.”
Tom nodded, shooting a look from Jackson to Ysabel for confirmation.
Ysabel nodded. “See ya tomorrow.”
“Okay, then.” Tom gave them one last look as though he was afraid he’d miss something important or exciting by leaving, then he turned and strode toward the parking lot.
Alone at last, Ysabel quelled an urge to run after Tom. She didn’t want to be alone with Jackson. So much remained unsaid and even though she’d wanted to clear the air, now that she had the opportunity, she couldn’t find the backbone to make it happen.
Jackson fixed that for her. He took one more look around then headed off toward the parking lot, his pace eating the distance. “Come on, I want to swing by the office. I’ll need a list of all employees working the shipment here and in Rasnovia where we picked up the saddles. Then we’ll need to compile a list of anyone who might have it in for me, although I suspect that could be a long one. You don’t make as much money as I do without accumulating enemies.”
“I know this isn’t a good time for you, but what part of ‘I quit’ didn’t you understand?”
Jackson stopped dead still. He didn’t turn, didn’t look at her, but his shoulders stiffened. “And what part of ‘lawsuit’ didn’t you understand? I need you now to help me figure out this mess. After that, we’ll discuss your severance options.” He didn’t wait for her response, but continued toward the parking lot.
Ysabel hurried to keep up. She was used to racing after Jackson even on a good day. He didn’t waste time and he didn’t suffer slowpokes. If only her stomach would cooperate. Several steps brought her closer to the source of the smell and she saw the emergency personnel zipping the remains of the forklift driver into a body bag.
The charred skin and the stench of burned flesh sent Ysabel over the edge. Her stomach heaved. She dropped back and held her hand over her mouth. No, please, not now. Tears welled in her eyes.
Jackson, aware he’d lost her, stopped and turned, a frown creasing his brow. “Is everything all right, Miss Sanchez?”
She wanted to throw something at him and hug him at the same time. Damn the man! Of course everything wasn’t all right. And she couldn’t tell him why. She could only hope that she didn’t disgrace herself in front of him. Now would not be the time to display weakness. “I’m fine. Just winded,” she lied and quickly clamped her hand back over her mouth.
Unconvinced, he retraced his steps and stood in front of her. “Are you feeling well?”
His concerned tone pushed the tears over the edge of her eyelids. They made a trail down her cheeks. She couldn’t move, couldn’t straighten fully without losing the contents of her stomach. Damn, why had she eaten that pizza with her sister? If she never saw another pizza again, it would be too soon.
Jackson’s fingers clamped around her wrist and he tugged her hand down. “What’s wrong Ysabel? Why the tears?” He scanned her face and looked down at her bare lips. “Your face and lips are pale. Perhaps you should sit down. Do I need to have the emergency personnel check you out?”
“No!” Her eyes widened. Fear he’d find out her secret made her reply more sharply than she’d intended. “No, I’m fine. Really. I must have eaten something that didn’t agree with my stomach.” Beads of perspiration sprang up on her brow. If only he’d back off and leave her to handle her problem on her own.
Jackson pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “I think you should see the EMT.” He glanced behind her.
Afraid he’d wave down one of the emergency responders, Ysabel straightened, pulling her hands out of his and swallowing the bile rising in her throat. “No, really.” She smoothed her hands down her skirt and forced a smile. “See? I’m better already.”
His frown deepened as though he didn’t believe her for a minute. Then he shrugged. “Okay, then let’s get out of here.”
Holy Mary, Mother of God, that smell! A gentle gust of coastal wind pushed the horrible smell across Ysabel’s nostrils and she was a goner.
Her stomach upended, regurgitated pizza and apple juice launching from her insides. Poor, unsuspecting Jackson, who still stood directly in front of her, didn’t have a chance.
She emptied the contents of her miserable gut on his trouser legs and shoes.
Jackson yelped and jumped back, but not soon enough to avoid her unplanned aim.
Unable to stop, Ysabel retched