Covert Makeover. Mallory Kane
In fact—” Rachel glanced at her watch “—I have a meeting with the commissioner this afternoon to address that very issue. So far we’ve been successful in keeping this out of the public eye, and of course the commissioner is being cooperative with the Confidential Agency, but the media is beginning to buzz about Juan DeLeon’s presence here and Sonya’s conspicuous absence from her usual social and charitable functions.”
Sophie checked her watch. She had an appointment with a new client. Weddings Your Way was a very successful wedding planning salon, which provided the perfect cover for Rachel Brennan’s Miami Confidential team. “I apologize, Rachel, but my client will be here in a few minutes.”
Rachel nodded. “Fine. Go ahead. We certainly don’t want to neglect any of our brides, or make them suspicious.”
Sophie heard the front door bell jingle downstairs. She stood and straightened her black silk gabardine skirt. “There’s my client. As soon as I can get her approval of my design for her wedding invitations and get her out of here, I’ll touch base with my CIA contacts, find out if there’s any chatter about Ladera, or activity off the coast.”
“Good. Thanks, everyone.”
Sophie descended the curved marble staircase, her sleek black pumps clicking. She put on a cool smile and greeted the young debutante whose biggest problem of the day was whether to use white, ivory, or pale lilac for her wedding invitations.
SEAN MAJORS ground one fist into the other palm as he watched his boss being wheeled into the large, darkly paneled study of his fortified estate. He didn’t look forward to the next few minutes. He had good news for Carlos, but he also had some very disturbing news as well.
Carlos Botero had been a big, handsome, vital man until a few weeks ago, when his only daughter Sonya had been kidnapped. Now he seemed shrunken, dried-up. A stroke suffered on the day a vague and threatening ransom note had been delivered had sucked all the vitality out of him. Carlos’s brain was still sharp, but physically, he was a mere shell of his former self and deteriorating daily.
Carlos waved a hand weakly, shooing the male nurse out of the room. The nurse sent Sean a look and Sean nodded slightly. Javier would be right outside if Sean needed him.
“Mr. Botero, I have some good news.”
Carlos turned pale. “Sonya?”
Sean winced. “No, sir, not Sonya. I’m sorry.” He should have played it differently, should have been more considerate. But two significant events had occurred within the past twenty minutes and Sean’s brain was racing with plans and concerns.
“Craig Johnson has regained consciousness.”
Carlos sank a bit deeper into his chair. “The only thing good about that news is that now he can be forced to tell the truth about his involvement with my daughter’s abduction.” Botero’s gray eyebrows lifted and his sharp eyes bored into Sean’s. “Find out what he did.”
Sean nodded and dropped his gaze. Carlos was no fool. If he knew what Sean was thinking, he’d be even more upset. Sean hadn’t yet revealed to Sonya’s father that Johnson had been overheard by a member of the Weddings Your Way staff making a telephone call, a call that was traced to a number in Ladera.
“I plan to, sir. I’ve left word with my guard not to allow any visitors until I have a chance to talk with him.” Sean took a deep breath as his gut clenched. “Mr. Botero—”
Carlos sat up. “What is it? You have something else to tell me?”
Sean pulled a plastic bag containing a plain block-printed sheet of paper from his coat pocket. He’d just picked it up from the guard station at the entrance to Carlos’s estate.
Sean had been on his way to the hospital to see Johnson when the guard called to say a taxi had delivered the envelope. Sean questioned the guard about the taxi, then called the dispatcher, but she had no record of a delivery to Botero’s estate. The guard had written down the cab number, though, so Sean had dispatched a member of his security team to track down the driver and question him.
Sean retrieved the note himself when he arrived and bagged it, even before he read it. He didn’t want even the tiniest bit of evidence contaminated.
“Is that a second note?” Carlos asked, his voice thready with excitement.
“Yes, sir.”
“Let me see it.”
Sean held it out so Carlos’s unsteady fingers could grasp it.
WE HOPE YOU HAVE THE TWO MILLION. PLACE THE CASH IN A CLEAR PLASTIC BAG STACKED IN BUNDLES OF 10,000 AMERICAN DOLLARS. WAIT FOR INSTRUCTIONS. BUT BE WARNED. ONCE YOU HEAR FROM US, YOU WILL HAVE TWO HOURS TO COMPLY. NOTA MOMENT MORE.
“Mr. Botero, it may be time to call in the police or the government—”
“No!” Carlos’s hand jerked and the bagged note fluttered to the floor. “No police!” He groped ineffectually for Sean’s arm and only succeeded in plucking at the sleeve of his suit.
“The note. It does not mention my daughter.”
“No, sir.” That worried Sean. It sounded more like a payoff or extortion than a ransom for Sonya’s safe return. Sean was afraid the kidnapping and ransom was a ploy to keep Juan DeLeon out of Ladera and distracted about his missing fiancée until the crooked Laderan politicians could shoot down DeLeon’s legislative bills.
He was also afraid that Sonya might already be dead. But he would never tell Carlos that. It might kill the old man Sean had come to care about very much during the ten years he’d worked for him. His job was to carry out Carlos’s wishes and keep him safe.
Of course he’d been charged with keeping Sonya safe, too, and he’d failed.
“Sir, the country of Ladera is a time bomb. Sonya’s kidnapping is almost certainly related to the activities there. The appropriate authorities should be contacted.”
Carlos tugged at Sean’s sleeve. “No! I care nothing for corrupt politicians. I care only about getting my daughter back. I trust her safety only to you!” Carlos yelled. “Promise me—”
The nurse stuck his head in the door, but Sean waved him away.
“Mr. Botero, I can’t tell you how sorry I am—”
“Do not apologize. Just promise me you will leave the authorities out of this. I depend on you.”
“I’ll do whatever you want done, sir.”
Carlos’s black eyes burned into Sean’s. “I want my daughter back. Sonya is my heart, my only remaining child. I cannot bear to lose her.”
Sean patted the older man’s hand. “I give you my word as a father that I will do everything in my power to get your daughter back safe and sound.”
Carlos relaxed minutely. “Thank you. Thank you. If my old friend Esteban were still alive, he could help you. But now Javier has taken on the additional duties of bodyguard.” Carlos took a breath and got choked. He started coughing.
Sean quickly called for the nurse. It pained him to see his robust, vital boss so ill and weak.
After the nurse brought Carlos some water, then wheeled him out, saying it was time for his massage, Sean sat down behind Carlos’s massive carved desk and put his head in his hands, replaying for the tenth or the hundredth time what had happened on that day in June when Sonya Botero was abducted in front of Weddings Your Way.
As Botero’s chief of security, Sean felt the weight of responsibility on his shoulders. He was the one who had recommended Sonya park her red Porsche and let Craig Johnson, a member of his security team, drive her in her father’s limousine.
He’d felt she needed a bodyguard, considering the growing unrest in Ladera and the increased threats against her fiancé, Juan DeLeon. He’d picked Johnson for the job because of his military background. He’d served in some