“You think they were police?”
She shook her head. “No. Don’t you see? I think it’s Jean Paul’s men, and they are looking for us.”
He tried to calm her down. “Jean Paul isn’t looking for us. He’s too busy covering his ass. Anyway, he couldn’t have mobilized that kind of manpower in a couple days to check every island. There are hundreds of places we could have gone; there is no reason to think he would have gotten that lucky to pick this one so fast. He couldn’t have followed us. It’s probably just a coincidence.”
He didn’t believe in coincidences, but it seemed a stretch that Jean Paul would try to track her down with that kind of intensity. He had to know his story wouldn’t hold up. He should be more concerned with getting the hell out of there.
Dean supposed it could be the police or MI6 if they’d given any credence to his terrorism report. But again, mobilizing that kind of manpower that quickly didn’t seem likely.
“Wait here,” he said, setting her aside. “I’ll find out what’s going on.”
“No.” She caught his arm, her slender fingers pressing like a vise. “You can’t go down there. What if they see you? What if something happens to you?”
“I’ll be careful.” He wanted to dismiss her concerns out of hand, but he couldn’t. If she was right, this was bigger than he’d thought.
He pulled the phone from his pocket and handed it to her.“You hang on to this. If I’m not back in an hour, hit nine. It’s speed dial. The man who answers will know what to do.”
Dean understood the significance of what he was doing. He was handing her his secret. Maybe not in so many words, but if she used that phone she was a part of this.
“Who’s on the other end?”
“Someone you can trust.”
Someonehetrusted, he realized. To put Annie’s well-being in Taylor’s hands, he must. So why hadn’t he trusted him in Russia? Good fucking question.
Dean retrieved the gun he’d taken from Jean Paul and stuck it in the back of his jeans.
He could tell she didn’t like seeing that, but she didn’t say anything. Worry and anxiousness clouded every one of her delicate features.
“What should I do?”
“Sit tight” obviously wasn’t going to cut it. She’d go crazy staring out the window, waiting for him to return.
“Change in case we have to get out of here.” She was still wearing her suit and shorts from the beach. “Get our things together, and see if you can get Mrs. Collins to make us a couple of sandwiches.”
She nodded, obviously relieved to have something to do.
He knew too well the trouble you could get into when you were idle. Like getting messed up in an ecoterrorist plot/murder investigation.
Dean grabbed a few more things and went to the door. “I’ll be back soon.”
“You better be.”
He grinned at her fierce expression and pulled her into his arms again for long enough to press an equally fierce kiss on her mouth until it was yielding and soft again.
“Remember, Annie. One hour.”
•••
It took him half that. The guest house was only a couple of blocks from town. The beach where Annie had seen the men was a short distance beyond, but Dean didn’t make it that far.He’d just turned onto the main drag when he saw the two men walking out of the post office and headed toward Patsy’s supermarket.
One look at them, and Dean knew Annie’s instincts had been dead-on. He could recognize professionals when he saw them. He had no doubt that these guys were hired killers.
His blood turned to ice at the thought of the danger Annie could have been in.
What the fuck was going on here?
He ducked into the post office, happy to see a young kid behind the desk. He looked fresh out of high school—or whatever the Scottish equivalent was.
