Island Holiday (Brookwell Island #4)

Chapter 8

Connor couldn’t remember the last time he felt this good. Completely satisfied. The walls weren’t closing in. He wasn’t fighting the urge to get outside and move. There wasn’t the slightest bit of anxiety, just a steady contentment. He was sure he was grinning like he’d just won the lottery.

He had.

Not a big money prize. Better. He’d just spent the better part of a day in bed with the woman who had populated his daydreams and fantasies for more than a year. Breathless and sweaty, his pulse was gradually returning to normal—again—and the sweet fragrance of Sonya filled the air. Her hand rested on his chest and one leg was twined with his.

Life felt perfect.

Except for the twinge where he felt like a fraud. He probably should’ve told her he’d been wrestling a long-distance crush on her. The crush he’d developed while keeping tabs on her. Before they’d wound up in bed, he definitely should’ve told her he’d spent time in a military prison at Fort Leavenworth. If that unsavory detail came up in the future, there’d be an awkwardness to overcome. And, considering the way Sonya protected herself, a breach of her trust that would be tough to rebuild.

His prison time wasn’t something he freely broadcast, to use her word. The people who truly needed to know were few and far between. It didn’t make much sense, considering how little they worked together, but Sonya was someone he’d hoped to share the full story with some day.

And that was the very definition of rushing things. He had no idea what she wanted for her future. He was sure it wasn’t a clingy researcher who blurted out confessions of his past, his crush, and falling in love after one hook up.

An amazing hook up, but still.

She’d been duped, betrayed, and pushed aside by her family. The very people who were supposed to give her stability and a good foundation. He wasn’t about to blow this fragile start by scaring her off.

“How do you feel about breakfast for dinner?”

She stretched and thoughts of food were forgotten in favor of watching her luscious body. “We had breakfast for breakfast,” she reminded him.

“True.” He propped up on an elbow, then leaned over to kiss her soft lips. “But you cooked. And we don’t have ingredients for the non-breakfast meals I cook well.”

She trailed a finger across his lips and over his beard. Why was such a simple touch so erotic? “We should order in.”

He’d like nothing better, but if Zimmer’s thugs were still out there, still waiting, that could give them a way inside.

“You’re frowning.”

“The building is monitored.” He rolled out of bed, found his pants and pulled them on. “Private security.”

“Mm-hm.”

He glanced over and found her staring at him with a hungry gaze. Flattering. And he’d gladly make it up to her. But right now, the case reclaimed his focus. “And we’re staying in a rental Zimmer himself has used.”

She was frowning now. Heedless of her nudity and the glorious picture she made, she got up as well. “What are you getting at?”

“They were on us in a hurry when we went out for coffee.” He pulled a shirt over his head.

“Oh. They must know we’re here.” She looked around as if she expected the men to jump out from behind the curtains. “How?”

“Feels too late for how. We need to figure out why and what next.”

“I disagree. If we know how they figured out I was involved, we can cut off the source of information.” She was gathering the clothing they’d tossed all over in their earlier haste to get naked.

He found her bra on his side of the bed and handed it to her. “Maybe. There’s another option.”

“More than one, I’m sure.”

“Probably,” he allowed. “Jess squeezed us in as a last-minute reservation, wanting the unit Zimmer used. What if the thugs who caught up with us had more than one assignment?”

She shoved at her hair. “What are you talking about?”

“You haven’t found any direct methods of payment.”

“Not yet.” She grinned at him. “I got distracted.”

As did he. And his only regret was that there was work left to do. “I did some investigating and caught them hanging out around this building before we arrived. Here, not the construction zone.” He looked around the room. “What if those guys are part of the system, at least here in Charlotte? What if Zimmer somehow hides cash or contraband in the rentals for them to pick up?”

“Then why follow us?” she asked. “Wouldn’t they have searched the condo while we were out? Or before we arrived?”

“I changed the guest code and the master access code,” Connor confessed.

“You can do that?”

He nodded, unsure if the way she was staring was a good thing. Probably not. His odds of getting out of this without her believing he was a stalker who belonged behind bars were shrinking. “But you make a good point about before we arrived,” he murmured, his mind racing ahead once more. “Do you know where his recruits stayed?” he asked, hurrying back to his computer.

“Most of them, yes. It’s usually a rental like this. I’ll send you the list.”

Her bare feet were barely audible on the hardwood floor as she followed him, veering off to her cozy workstation setup on the couch.

That was an unexpected quirk that reinforced how much he didn’t know and wanted to discover. In his head, he’d always pictured her creating more of a formal desk situation. But that was his preference, not hers.

He dug into the reservations record for this condo. If this was the method Zimmer used to pay off any hired help, why hadn’t Football Fan and Flannel gotten in here first?

He felt privileged to be this close while she did her thing. To see her laptop and notebook and the big bold cup she kept filled with water. People always said the little things made the biggest difference. It certainly seemed to be the case for him in regards to her. Every little personal detail only made him want to learn more, to grow closer.

To earn her trust and shower her with the affection she deserved. The closeness she denied herself—at least from his point of view.

He dragged his mind back to the more pressing issue and searched every possible camera in the area for a sign of Football Fan or Flannel. Or anyone else who didn’t belong. His email alert chimed with the list Sonya had promised. More information to scour once he knew what had happened here.

“Here we go. I’m into the registration system.”

“Do I want to know?” Sonya rested a hand on his shoulder.

His entire body warmed at the easy, familiar touch. He hoped it meant she was growing fond of him too. Possibly feeling more than just the glow following amazing sex. That would be the best ever, to find a sweet, lasting connection with her.

“Here look.” He leaned back so she could see the list of dates and reservations. “Zimmer stayed a couple of nights.”

“Mm-hm. Then the cleaning crew.”

“Right. Jess wedged us in here. And a new reservation arrives a couple days after our stay ends. Just enough time to clean in between.”

“Huh.” She moved from behind him to take a seat at the table. “I didn’t know how long we were staying.”

He was putting the names of the cleaning crew and the maintenance staff into another search. “Long enough to find something,” he replied absently. While he continued hunting for employee IDs that might resemble Football Fan or Flannel, Sonya moved away once more.

He heard her in the kitchen, then moving around the condo.

But he stayed focused on his searches. He needed to know if those two thugs were here specifically for Sonya or for something in the condo. Granted, he wasn’t a criminal, but it seemed like common sense to wait until the condo was clear to make a move. Especially if the code they’d been given failed. So it worried him that the two men had been so persistent in their pursuit near the coffee shop.

Sonya was right that someone had either recognized her or her handiwork as she’d tracked Zimmer. Connor didn’t believe the man’s stop in Brookwell was coincidental. He was either scoping out another destination or up to something else.

Connor sat back and scrubbed at his face. When would they catch a break?

Neither Football Fan nor Flannel seemed to have any association with the rental service or the condo building in general—at least not with any role that required a photo ID.

“Have you tried any of the other addresses I sent?” Sonya asked.

He glanced toward her bedroom. “What are you doing?”

“Searching my way.”

What the hell did that mean? He was halfway out of his chair, when he got an alert from one of the social media accounts he was monitoring. The young woman he’d thought was in Kansas City was now in Charleston, South Carolina. At least, her original cell phone was pinging there. It was too close to Brookwell for Connor to write it off as a coincidence.

“Sonya.”

“Just a sec.”

He didn’t set a timer or anything, but he could tell she was distracted. He used the time to zero in on that phone’s location. Then he combed the area CCTV for any sign of the three young women who weren’t where they were supposed to be. To his surprise, he got a hit almost immediately. A gym linked to a national chain, just like Sonya said. Not one of the women, but all three. They were pink-faced and sweaty, grinning in front of a big logo, the one used frequently as a backdrop for the gym’s social media. The caption was short, with plenty of hashtags about fitness being right in any season.

Recent. Close. He notified Jess. With luck she’d get someone over there in time to speak with the young women.

“Did you find them?”

He jumped at Sonya’s question. Somehow, she was right behind him. Some protector he was turning into. Startled and embarrassed, he tried to smile. “You scared me.”

“Sorry. Didn’t realize you were so dialed in.”

“Telling Jess.” He pointed to the screen. “Look at that. All three of them, in Charleston.”

She pursed her lips. “Not Kansas City?”

“Nope. Although the phone that pinged is off again.”

“Clearly, not hostages.” She leaned closer. “They seem to be happy enough with the situation. Still not believing the story Zimmer is feeding them is legit.”

“I’m as skeptical as you are. Jess will send someone to try and pick up their trail.” Belatedly, he noticed her twisting socks in her hands. “What’s all that?”

“I found a false panel in the bathroom cabinet. Come take a look.”

He followed her into the suite, doing his best to ignore the bed as she walked straight to the bathroom. He watched, amused as she put the socks over her hands. “Just in case,” she explained with a shrug. “Check this out. I took several pictures, but feel free to do the same.”

He opened the app and started a video. Sonya narrated her find, first showing the false panel, and then a black velvet bag sitting on top of cash. Five bands of twenties. “Ten grand?”

“That’s right.” She carefully removed the bag and, with her sock-covered hands, she loosened the string closure and held it open for him. “Diamonds too.”

“What the hell?” he muttered.

“Do we call the authorities?”

“For starters. Jess too. She might have some sway—”

“With her police connections,” Sonya finished.

“Right. And we should ask for agency support to tackle the research required to connect Zimmer’s rental stays with the folks who rented the same places after him.”

“Why wouldn’t we do that ourselves?” she asked. “Don’t we have more time here?”

If they wanted to stay. He didn’t. Especially not after finding this. He felt like a sitting duck up here, waiting for Zimmer’s thugs to crash their party. He weighed the pros and cons of telling her and chose not to. He didn’t want fear clouding her judgment. “You and I need to get to Charleston.”

She closed the bag and put it back on top of the money. Instead of securing the panel, she planted her sock-covered hands on her hips. “Because you found the girls there?”

“That’s just one reason. It’s closer to your family,” he said, offering another solid reason. “Christmas is nearly here.”

She shifted leaning a hip against the countertop. “True. My list is pretty short.”

“Get those young women back home?”

“Yes.” Her lips twisted and she stared at the socks.

He tucked his phone into his pocket and peeled the socks from her hands so he could relish the soft heat of her skin on his. “Zimmer is in the area. Three women he hired to travel with a bougie suitcase are there. And this?” he tipped his head toward the stash she’d found. “This is a neon sign inviting us to clear out.”

Her thumbs stroked across his palms and an undeniable heat lanced through his body. That’s all it took with Sonya—a look or the smallest touch and he was a goner. Gladly. Her bed was too close, too tempting. Hell, the counter was looking good enough for him.

Was she feeling the same unquenchable need?

“You’re right.”

He did a double take, had to shake out the sensual cobwebs. “I am?”

“Yes. Doesn’t matter if the men were after me or the code to get to this stash. Staying only increases their desperation.”

“I’ll call the airport,” he suggested.

Her eyes locked with his, then fell to his mouth. “And I’ll call Jess.” Her tongue swept over her lips and her hands looped around his neck. “In a minute.” He drew her in close and let the kiss carry him away.

Just for a minute.