Mallory Kane - Solving the Mysterious Stranger

“I’m afraid that’s about to change.”

She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her knuckles against her mouth. After a few seconds she spoke. “Are you going to kill us?”

“I hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“If I’m going to die, don’t I deserve to know what I’m dying for?”

“You’ll know soon enough.” He let go of her hand. “Now, put on a happy face and go inside. Don’t forget I’m right behind you.”

As she turned the knob, she muttered a rude but apt description of him under her breath.

He agreed totally.

As she opened the door, he thought of something that had been niggling at the edge of his brain. “Wait a second. Is your dad’s heart condition affecting his work? Is that why this season’s yachts are throwbacks to past years?”

She turned, her expression carefully blank. “Why would you say that?”

“Because for the past three years I’ve been studying your dad’s designs. It’s pretty obvious.” He let his gaze drift down her body and back up. When he met her gaze, she looked away.

“It’s why you did that sexy photo shoot for this year’s calendar, isn’t it? To draw attention away from the yachts?”

Two spots of red in her cheeks told him he was right. “I don’t get it. Wouldn’t it have made more sense to underplay the calendar rather than make it the flashiest one in years?”

She lifted her chin. “Hopkins Yachts are never down-played. That would have given it away.”

They stepped into a stone foyer. Beyond, Cole saw a vast stretch of glass wall that looked out over Raven’s Cliff’s small harbor. In the center of the wall was a set of unsightly steel doors. The elevator .

That made sense now, too. Hopkins needed it to get up and down the cliff. It had been added after his heart attack.

Voices from the opposite side of the room stopped Cole. He slid his hand into his pocket and wrapped his fingers around his SIG-Sauer, hoping like hell he wouldn’t have to use it.

He took Amelia’s arm and pressed the barrel of the gun into her side. Startled, she jerked.

“Who’s that?” he whispered in her ear. “And where are they?”

“That’s Dad, but I don’t know who’s with him. His desk is to your right.”

“Okay. Follow my lead. If you lose your cool, it’s your dad who’ll pay.” He nudged her with the gun again.

She nodded and took a deep breath. With the gun barrel pressed against her side, he nudged her forward.

“Dad?”

“Amelia? Come here.”

Amelia frowned. Her father sounded worried. “Dad? Is something wrong?”

Reginald Hopkins was sitting behind his desk in his pajamas and a maroon lounging robe. On the other side of the desk, in a yellow leather chair, sat Ross Fancher, assembly manager for Hopkins Boatworks.

Oh, no . Ross had the notion that he and she were dating. She’d been out to dinner with him a couple of times, but she’d carefully kept their friendship from moving to the next level.

Still, she’d rather not announce in front of him that she was taking a stranger to her suite for the night.

“Amelia—” Ross started, glaring at the man with her.

“Dad,” she said quickly, hoping to cover the questions she was sure Ross was about to ask. “What are you doing up? Ross, I thought you’d know better than to keep Dad up so late. He’s had that flu bug. What’s going on?”

She shifted. Tension radiated from the stranger. She felt it across the distance that separated them. He’d taken the gun barrel away from her side, but she knew the weapon was in his pocket—and she knew he was capable of using it.

Ross stood. “Amelia—”

Amelia looked past him to her father. She put all the innocent pleading she could muster into her gaze. Her dad had always been a sucker for her big brown eyes. She prayed he’d understand her silent plea to get rid of Ross.

After a sharp look at her and the stranger, Reginald Hopkins cleared his throat. “Ross, why don’t you run along? I am tired. I’ll fill Amelia in on what’s happening.”

Ross glared over her head at the stranger. “Amelia, what’s going on here. Who in h—”

“Ross!”

Amelia knew that tone. Her dad wasn’t about to let Ross say another word.

Ross knew the tone, too. “Good night, Reg.’ Night Amelia.” Ross sidestepped them and headed for the elevator.

Amelia felt the stranger turn. He was watching Ross to make sure he left.

Once the nearly silent doors shut and the swish that announced the elevator’s descent whispered through the air, Amelia felt the stranger relax. It was fascinating how she could feel what he was feeling, even across the inches separating them.

“Amelia?” Her father’s voice was hoarse with exhaustion, but she knew him. He wouldn’t budge until he found out why she’d come in after midnight with a stranger in tow. She’d never done that before—nothing like it.

She turned. “Dad, what’s wrong?”

“Ross was telling me about the fleet of so-called pirate ships that docked at the harbor a little while ago. Apparently they sailed into the harbor like a scene from a movie. The pirates stormed the docks while the fireworks were going off. At first everybody thought it was part of the celebration. But they roughed up some people and apparently waved machine guns around. And now the mayor is missing.”

“Mayor Wells—missing?” What next? “Oh, no. What happened?”

“Nobody seems to know.” He looked at the man behind her. “Young man, who are you?”

Amelia turned. She’d like to hear the answer to that question herself.

“Mr. Hopkins, my name is Cole. I need some information from you.”

“ My name is Cole doesn’t tell me anything. Who are you?” He shot the stranger a demanding glare. Without taking his eyes off him, he spoke to her.

“Amelia? Who is he?”

“She doesn’t know,” Cole said. “Is there anyone else in the house? Your housekeeper?”

Her dad’s dark brows lowered. “Mrs. Winston lives down the hill, near the boatyard.”

“That doesn’t answer my question. Is she here?”

“No. She left around eleven.”

“Is that elevator accessible from below?”

“Yes. Until it’s turned off from up here. Mrs. Winston has a key. She locks it at night, unless we have a visitor, like tonight,” Amelia replied. “I’ll lock it now.”

“No.” Cole held up his hand. “Leave it alone.” Glancing at his watch, he figured Chien Fou was on his way here with the mayor. The plan was for Cole to have the Hopkinses’ house secured by 1:00 a.m. and to make sure the elevator was operational. It was after that now.

Amelia’s face turned pale. “You’re waiting for someone.”

Her gaze snapped to his pocket, where his weapon bulged, and understanding filled her eyes with new horror. “Oh, dear heavens, you’re one of those pirates.”

Cole winced inwardly at the horror and disgust in her expression. Just wait , he thought bitterly. You ain’t seen nothing yet .

“One of the pirates?” Hopkins repeated, his tone sharp. “Amelia, why did you bring him here?”

“She had no choice, sir,” Cole responded. “I kidnapped her.”

“My God, sugar, are you all right?”

Amelia stepped in front of her father. “Let my dad go to bed.” Her eyes blazed like amber in her pale face.

Cole studied her. Her love and worry for her father radiated from her like heat. How would it feel to have someone care that much? To be that fiercely protective?

Cole thought about his own father. Maybe the old man had cared for him once—a long time ago, before his greed and self-indulgence had turned him into a traitor.