Page 51 of Beachcomber Danger

“No. I refused to let her near the island.” He smiled and Dane felt the guilty stab through his shoulders yet again, knowing he’d love to have sent Shana away.

“Later, then.”

Dane had six hours to rendezvous with Shana and get ready before reporting back for the showdown. He was as certain that there’d be a showdown with Preston and Emeline Chambers as he was certain that he wanted Shana for his wife. All in.

Once outside and heading to the back gate, Dane realized he had no vehicle. Shana had taken the Jeep when he’d gone off with Andrews. He lifted his phone from his pocket to his ear, and stopped to check the voicemail message. To hell with surveillance. Funny that Shana hadn’t sent a text like she usually did. He’d been the one who preferred voicemail. It was getting harder to read the texts, but he’d never admit that to her.

As he listened he slowed his walk to a stop and felt his heart go wild with protest in his chest. Concentrating to keep his cool, to force himself into go mode like the professional he was, he listened to the voicemail three more times.

Then he typed in Acer’s number. As soon as the man answered, after only two rings, he said, “Come get me. Now.” He gave Acer the address.

*****

Acer picked him up on the road outside the back gate of the estate where the President was staying. On the drive to the Lucky Parrot, Dane tried calling Shana back but the number where she’d called from had been blocked and he couldn’t get through. There’d been no mistaking that she’d been cut off. Violently. He played the message back in his mind over and over.

Dane, I found Sassy and she’s all right. We’re both—

And then there was a loud cracking sound and the line went dead.

She hadn’t told him where they were. Hadn’t mentioned that they were in the company of the Chambers, but it was more than a good guess. Dane only wondered if they’d put her up to making the call to set a trap, or if she’d managed to find a way to get out before getting caught again.

Either way, he had to find her. He had six hours.

But there was no way in f—ing hell he would stop until he’d found her and killed Preston and Emeline Chambers if they’d touched a hair on her head.

Acer ran down the stairs to the basement of the Lucky Parrot ahead of him. He was pumped with urgency. They both were, but Dane had to maintain his head and keep focused, control the adrenaline. As always. Only this time it counted more. And this time it was a hell of a lot harder to do.

“Give me the phone.” Acer shut the door behind him.

Dane handed it over.

“What can you do with it?”

“If the call was made from a landline, I can tell you the street address.”

“And if not?”

Acer shrugged. “I’m betting it was—you already tried calling her cell and it wasn’t functional. Plus, she left a voicemail instead of sending a text. It’s not like her.”

“You make good points. I’m glad one of us is thinking clearly.” The admission cost Dane another stab through his shoulder blades, but the pain was so familiar, it felt comforting more than hurtful.

He deserved the pain for allowing her to go off on her own. What the hell had he been thinking?

This was quickly followed by the thought that he was a sick bastard to entertain the notion that he could stop Shana from doing what she needed to do, or that he should stop her. And it was sick to think he deserved pain. He’d been there—suffering self-inflicted pain to nullify guilt—and he didn’t want to go back. He’d wallowed enough in the dark pit of self-pity. Shana had lifted him out and, damn it to hell, he was going to find her and marry her. Today.

He straightened and rolled his shoulders. He was up to this. Shana was up to this. She could hold on until they got to her. And he was sure as hell it would not take six hours to find her.

Acer had the phone plugged into his computer via USB port and was tapping away on his keyboard. Sweat dripped in beads from his temple. Dane looked over his shoulder and concentrated on the map showing on the screen as it zeroed in, narrowing to a smaller and smaller area.

Dane reached in and enlarged it.

“Damn. I know this place. It’s the pie shop. Sassy’s pie shop.” He didn’t waste time or breath on any further explanation, but went for the weapons locker Acer had assembled and flipped it open. He took out what he needed, an assortment of several items to augment his trusty old Glock.

With Acer following behind him, he ran up the stairs into the crowded dining room of the Lucky Parrot.

“Tom, we’re taking your car on a mission. Not sure if you’ll get it back in the same condition.”

Tom looked at him and Acer a beat and then nodded.