there was Dakota Cameron.
To be fair, Nick didn’t exactly know Kody Cameron but he had seen her—and she had seen him—in New York City.
And the one time that he’d seen her, he’d known immediately that he’d wanted to see her again.
And now, here they were. In a thousand years he’d never imagined their second meeting would be like this.
No one had known that Dillinger’s game plan ended with speculation—the vague concept that he could kidnap Dakota, take her prisoner—and hope she could find the stash!
Dillinger planned the heists and the drug runs; he worked with a field of prostitution that included the pimps and the girls. He had South American contacts. No one had figured he’d plan on taking over the old Crystal Estate, certain that he could find a Cameron family member who knew where to find the old mob treasure.
So, now, here he was—surprised and somewhat anxious to realize that the lovely young brunette with the fascinating eyes he’d brushed by at Finnegan’s on Broadway in New York City would show up at the ticket booth at a Florida estate and tourist attraction.
Craig Frasier, one of the main men on the task force Director Egan had formed to trace and track “Dillinger,” aka Nathan Appleby, along the Eastern seaboard, spent a lot of time at Finnegan’s. The new love of his life was co-owner, along with her brothers, of the hundred-and-fifty-year-old pub in downtown Manhattan.
Nick and Kody Cameron had passed briefly, like proverbial ships in the night, but he hadn’t had the least problem recognizing her today. He knew her, because they had both paused to stare at one another at the pub.
Instant attraction? Definitely on his part and he could have sworn on hers, too.
Then she’d muttered some kind of swift apology and Craig’s new girlfriend, who’d come over to greet them, explained, “That’s Kody Cameron. She’s working a living theater piece with my brother. Sounds kind of cool, right? And she’s working here part-time now, making the transition to New York.”
“What’s living theater?” Nick had asked Kieran Finnegan.
“Kevin could tell you better than me,” she had explained, “but it’s taking a show more as a concept than as a structured piece and working with the lines loosely while interacting with the audience as your character.”
Whatever she did, he’d hoped that he’d see her again; he’d even figured that he could. While Kieran Finnegan actually worked as a psychologist and therapist for a pair of psychiatrists who often came in as consultants for the New York office of the Bureau, she was also often at Finnegan’s. And since he was working tightly with Craig and his partner, Mike, and a cyber-force on this case, he’d figured he’d be back in Finnegan’s, too. But then, of course, Dillinger had come south, met up with old prison mates Capone, Nelson, Kelly, Floyd and Schultz, and Nick—who had gone through high school in South Florida and still had family in the area—had been sent down to infiltrate the gang.
The rest, as the saying went, was history.
Now, if Dakota Cameron saw his face, if she gave any indication that she knew him, and knew that he was an FBI man...
They’d both be dead.
And it didn’t help the situation that she was battle ready—ready to lay down her life for her friends.
Then again, there should have been a way for him to stop this. If it hadn’t been for the little boy who had been taken...
He had to find out where the kid was. Had Dillinger stashed him with friends or associates? Had he hidden him somewhere? It wasn’t as hard to hide somewhere here as one would think, with the land being just about at sea level and flat as a pancake. There were enough crack houses and abandoned tenements. Of course, Nick was pretty sure Dillinger couldn’t have snatched the kid at a bus station, hidden him wherever, and made it to the estate at their appointed time, if he had gone far.
But that knowledge didn’t help much.
Nick’s first case when he’d started with the Bureau in the Miami offices had been finding the truth behind the bodies stuffed in barrels, covered with acid and tossed in the Everglades.
He refused to think of that image along with his fear for the child; the boy was alive. Adrian Burke wouldn’t be worth anything in an escape situation if he was dead.
Nick wiped away that thought and leaned against the door frame as he stood guard over Kody. Capone was now just on the other side of the door.
Like the entire estate, the library was kept in pristine shape, but it also held an air of fading and decaying elegance, making one feel a sense of nostalgia. The floors were marble, covered here and there by Persian throw rugs, and built-in bookshelves were filled with volumes that appeared older than the estate itself, along with sea charts and more.
Kody Cameron had a ledger opened before her, but she was looking at him. Quizzically.
It seemed as if she suspected she knew him but couldn’t figure out from where.
“You’re not as crazy as the others,” she said softly. “I can sense that about you. But you need to do something to stop this. That treasure he’s talking about has been missing for years and years. God knows, maybe it’s in the Everglades, swallowed up in a sinkhole. You don’t want to be a part of this—I know you don’t. And those guys are lethal. They’ll hurt someone...kill someone. This is still a death penalty state, you know. Please, if you would just—”
He found himself walking over to her at the desk and replying in a heated whisper, “Just do what he says and find the damned treasure. Lie if you have to! Find something that will make Dillinger believe that you know where the treasure is. Give him a damned map to find it. He won’t think twice about killing people, but he won’t kill just for the hell of it. Don’t give him a reason.”
“You’re not one of them. You have to stop this. Get away from them,” she said.
She was beautiful, earnest, passionate. He wanted to reassure her. To rip off his mask and tell her that law enforcement was on it all.
But that was impossible, lest they all die quickly.
He had to keep his distance and keep her, the kidnapped child and the others in the house alive.
Capone was growing curious. He left his post at the archway and walked in. “Hey. What’s going on here? Don’t interrupt the woman, Barrow. I want to get the hell out of here! I’ve done some wild things with Dillinger, but this is taking the cake. Makes me more nervous than twenty cartel members in a gunboat. Leave her be.”
“Yeah. I’m going to leave her be. And she’s going to come up with something,” Barrow said.
He’d barely spoken when Schultz came rushing in. While Capone knew how to rig a central box and stop cameras and security systems, Schultz was an expert sharpshooter. He was tall and thin, not much in the muscles department, but Nick had seen him take long shots that were just about impossible.
“News is out that we’re here,” he said. “Cops are surrounding the gates. I fired a few warning shots and Dillinger answered the phone—told them we have a pack of hostages. You should see them all out there at the gates,” he added, his grin evident in his voice. “They look like a pack of chickens. Guess they’re calling for a hostage negotiator. Dillinger is deciding whether to give them a live one or a body.”
Kody Cameron stood. “They give him a body and I’m done. If he gives them one body, it won’t make any difference to him if he kills the rest of us.”
“And just how far are you getting, sweet thing?” Schultz asked, coming close to her. He reached out to lift the young woman’s chin.
Nick struggled to control himself. Hell, she wasn’t just a captive. Not just someone he had to keep alive.
She worked for Finnegan’s. She was connected to