Her Very Strict Captain, Carpenter, Maggie [top 50 books to read TXT] 📗

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Sonny Conchello’s foul mood had worsened.

The voluptuous prostitute the night before had been irritating. Her tits were big, but as fake as her clawed fingernails, and she had to bounce on his cock for half an hour before he’d finally climaxed.

Checking the tracker on the money after she’d left, he found it had mysteriously disappeared, then listening to his messages, he learned Dan Miller had been arrested and the police chief was keeping him overnight.

No money was mentioned, and Dan’s apprehension didn’t explain the tracker falling off the grid. He’d tried to call David Clark, but the bastard hadn’t picked up.

Downing shots of tequila to take the edge off, he’d managed to fall asleep, only to wake up to more bad news.

David had vanished.

He’d summoned Ewen, the gritty guy from down under.

Now drinking strong coffee, pacing on the spacious patio overlooking the bay, Sonny’s thoughts turned to Beth. Though he knew her real name was Elizabeth, Beth was the name he’d used for almost a year, and he wasn’t about to change it.

When Sonny had asked Jim Parker about her, Jim had said he had no knowledge of an agent by the name of Beth Cameron or Elizabeth McKay.

Jim had been on the payroll for years.

Why would he lie?

Unless he had a thing for the girl.

Anything was possible.

“You wanted to see me?”

Turning around, Sonny motioned Ewen to join him.

“I have a few problems,” Sonny began as Ewen approached. “You’re going to sort them out for me.”

Though Ewen maintained a poker face, Sonny could see the pride in his eyes. It was an honor to be trusted with ‘problems.’

“Dan Miller was arrested last night. Head over to his hotel room on St. Thomas. He’s staying at the Lost Resort, Room 207. Do you know it?”

“Yeah, boss, I know it.”

“There should be some money hidden somewhere. Tear the place apart until you find it. Call me when you do. David Clark was with him, and now he’s MIA.”

“No shit?”

“He might have found the cash and bolted, or decided to lay low because of Dan’s arrest, but he’s not answering his phone.”

“That’s not good.”

“No, Ewen, that’s not fucking good,” Sonny retorted. “Ask around, see if you can pick up a trail.”

“Will do, though the storm would’ve kept most people indoors.”

“No shit,” Sonny grumbled, pulling out his phone and checking for the tracker again. “None of this makes sense.”

“I do have some good news,” Ewen declared. “The move is complete.”

“Took long enough, but at least that’s out of the way. One last thing. Next time you get me a hooker, make sure her tits are real. Inspect them yourself before I see her. Now get the fuck over to that hotel.”

Chapter 16

As the airliner made its descent over the crystal clear, turquoise waters, Jim Parker barely glanced out the window. Petrified the lie he’d told had been uncovered, his stomach churned and he’d broken into a cold sweat.

He was sure the only thing that would have provoked Conchello’s last-minute summons was the outing of Beth Cameron—aka Elizabeth McKay—and her boyfriend Manny. If he had learned they were DEA agents, Jim didn’t dare think of the consequences.

Lifting his handkerchief from his pocket and wiping his face, he tried to come up with an excuse if he was accused of the cover-up, but the plane hit the tarmac, jolting him from his anxious pondering. The engines screamed, then quieted, the aircraft rolled to a stop at the gate, and rising unsteadily from his seat, he lugged his bag from the overhead bin.

Leaving the plane, he was immediately cloaked in warm tropical air, but far from appealing, it was suffocating. Hurrying the short distance across the tarmac and through the terminal door, he expected to find someone waiting for him, but the area was for passengers only. Following the throng, a couple of minutes later he was out of the restricted area and milling around with the general public.

“Jim!”

Startled, he turned around. A tall man wearing large, reflecting aviator sunglasses, a colorful island shirt, and white shorts beckoned him over. Built like a seasoned bodyguard, Jim assumed he was one of Conchello’s goons.

“I’m John,” he declared briskly. “Follow me, I have a car waiting.”

Taking Jim’s bag, the brawny stranger stayed uncomfortably close as they walked outside and headed to a dark gray SUV. As Jim climbed into the back seat, the driver sitting behind the wheel continued staring straight ahead.

For a moment Jim suffered an acute desire to bolt, but he knew there would be no chance of escape.

“Buckle up,” John ordered, climbing in and settling beside him. “Have you been here before?”

“No,” Jim mumbled, thinking the stranger looked even bulkier in the enclosed space.

“You should take in the scenery as we drive.”

“Yeah, I will,” Jim muttered, believing the man was thinking, it will be the last thing you see before Conchello puts a bullet through your brain.

Staring out the window as the SUV left the airport, Jim saw only a blur of shops and people, but a short while later as they headed up a hillside, he found himself surrounded by a tropical forest.

“Turn around, Jim,” John ordered brusquely as the vehicle unexpectedly moved to the side of the road and came to a stop. “I need to blindfold you.”

Panic seized him.

Was he about to be taken into the jungle and shot?

As the black fabric slipped over his eyes, images of his kids as toddlers flashed through his head.

Terrifying seconds ticked by.

The scarf was tightened.

The SUV began to move.

Jim let out a breath.

Death in the jungle was not his fate.

At least, not yet.

The drive up the slope continued for several minutes, then the vehicle bounced its way over rough ground before finally stopping. He was helped out, guided up a couple of steps, and into a building. Though he was grateful for the blast of air-conditioning, the respite was short-lived. He was plonked into a chair, and his wrists handcuffed behind him.

He heard the door close, then lock.

The blindfold