Read Online Jayhawk Down by Sharon Calvin - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Sharon Calvin
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don’t intend to stay in Florida any longer than I must.”
“Gee, guess that’s my cue to leave. Hilary, it’s been...enlightening,” Caitlyn said. She blew Stillman a kiss then sauntered away with hips swaying like a gunship avoiding enemy fire. His smile faltered when he turned back to Hilary. He couldn’t ignore the hurt look that made her appear uncharacteristically vulnerable. Hell, he didn’t need conflicted feelings for his ex, he preferred thinking of her as a shallow mercenary.
“I’m disappointed, Stillman, you’ve lowered your standards.” Her narrowed eyes didn’t blink as she focused on him with her normal, and more familiar, disdain.
Forget conflicted—pissed was more accurate and a more familiar feeling.
“Don’t. You made the mistake of misjudging Caitlyn. Any attitude on your part is uncalled for. Now that you’ve found me, what was so flipping important to fly all the way to Florida to see me about?”
Her expression softened and she placed a hand on his arm. “It’s your father’s heart. They’ve scheduled him for surgery on Friday.”
Clearwater, FL,
Tuesday, 20 September, 2205 hours
Ray Atwah—it was surprisingly easy to think of himself by the name he’d received along with his forged passport—sat in a panel van with three companions, watching the entrance to a restaurant where the pilot and her companions had been for the last couple of hours.
His men’s fanaticism made them perfect pawns. Expendable drones, ones who followed orders at least, were hard to find in a country boasting so many freedoms. Atwah smiled with his mouth only. He knew how to manipulate hate. It was a beast he’d learned to control and unleash at will.
The three disaffected men laughed, their lewd comments punctuated with finger jabs as they passed the digital photos from hand to hand. The female pilot intrigued them. Her looks and mannerisms as foreign to them as the food and lung-drowning humidity of Florida’s Gulf Coast.
When the redhead exited the cantina on the arm of her copilot, Ray adjusted his binoculars to bring her into sharper focus. They went many places together, the two flyers. Lovers, perhaps? Something to keep in mind if she should require...convincing.
The three men sitting in the back of the van continued their disgusting commentary.
He eased back in the driver’s seat, his eyes half-closed. He wanted the three semi-competent zealots he’d recruited to believe they would live if they did what they were told to do. Ray smiled in the dark van.
A foolish belief he would allow them. For now.
Atwah’s disposable cell phone rang with a harsh electronic buzz. Heart accelerating, he reached into his pocket.
Only one person had the number. Only one thing would prompt a call. Only one man had the right connections to make it happen.
Sweat glazed his upper lip and he fought the urge to wipe it clear. Instead, he stabbed the Talk button and held the phone against his ear. He listened and smiled.
In less than a week he would inherit over fifty million dollars US. Too bad the beautiful redhead would be dead.
Chapter Four
St. Petersburg,
FL,
Tuesday, 20 September, 2330 hours
Stillman sat in his truck while his numb brain tried to wrap misfiring synapses around Hilary’s announcement. His mother had been hiding something, all right. He slammed his palm against the steering wheel. Why couldn’t his parents just come out and tell him the truth? Why all the damn secrecy?
He’d known about his father’s congenital heart defect all his life. Stillman had been tested for Ebstein’s malformation as a baby. Why an operation now? What had changed?
After driving Hilary to her hotel, he’d made his way to his apartment, but couldn’t force himself out of the truck. His father had always been invincible. They’d butted heads arguing politics and medical protocols for years. Now it all seemed so...pointless. Resigned, Stillman unclipped the seat belt and pulled his cell phone out
“Gee, guess that’s my cue to leave. Hilary, it’s been...enlightening,” Caitlyn said. She blew Stillman a kiss then sauntered away with hips swaying like a gunship avoiding enemy fire. His smile faltered when he turned back to Hilary. He couldn’t ignore the hurt look that made her appear uncharacteristically vulnerable. Hell, he didn’t need conflicted feelings for his ex, he preferred thinking of her as a shallow mercenary.
“I’m disappointed, Stillman, you’ve lowered your standards.” Her narrowed eyes didn’t blink as she focused on him with her normal, and more familiar, disdain.
Forget conflicted—pissed was more accurate and a more familiar feeling.
“Don’t. You made the mistake of misjudging Caitlyn. Any attitude on your part is uncalled for. Now that you’ve found me, what was so flipping important to fly all the way to Florida to see me about?”
Her expression softened and she placed a hand on his arm. “It’s your father’s heart. They’ve scheduled him for surgery on Friday.”
Clearwater, FL,
Tuesday, 20 September, 2205 hours
Ray Atwah—it was surprisingly easy to think of himself by the name he’d received along with his forged passport—sat in a panel van with three companions, watching the entrance to a restaurant where the pilot and her companions had been for the last couple of hours.
His men’s fanaticism made them perfect pawns. Expendable drones, ones who followed orders at least, were hard to find in a country boasting so many freedoms. Atwah smiled with his mouth only. He knew how to manipulate hate. It was a beast he’d learned to control and unleash at will.
The three disaffected men laughed, their lewd comments punctuated with finger jabs as they passed the digital photos from hand to hand. The female pilot intrigued them. Her looks and mannerisms as foreign to them as the food and lung-drowning humidity of Florida’s Gulf Coast.
When the redhead exited the cantina on the arm of her copilot, Ray adjusted his binoculars to bring her into sharper focus. They went many places together, the two flyers. Lovers, perhaps? Something to keep in mind if she should require...convincing.
The three men sitting in the back of the van continued their disgusting commentary.
He eased back in the driver’s seat, his eyes half-closed. He wanted the three semi-competent zealots he’d recruited to believe they would live if they did what they were told to do. Ray smiled in the dark van.
A foolish belief he would allow them. For now.
Atwah’s disposable cell phone rang with a harsh electronic buzz. Heart accelerating, he reached into his pocket.
Only one person had the number. Only one thing would prompt a call. Only one man had the right connections to make it happen.
Sweat glazed his upper lip and he fought the urge to wipe it clear. Instead, he stabbed the Talk button and held the phone against his ear. He listened and smiled.
In less than a week he would inherit over fifty million dollars US. Too bad the beautiful redhead would be dead.
Chapter Four
St. Petersburg,
FL,
Tuesday, 20 September, 2330 hours
Stillman sat in his truck while his numb brain tried to wrap misfiring synapses around Hilary’s announcement. His mother had been hiding something, all right. He slammed his palm against the steering wheel. Why couldn’t his parents just come out and tell him the truth? Why all the damn secrecy?
He’d known about his father’s congenital heart defect all his life. Stillman had been tested for Ebstein’s malformation as a baby. Why an operation now? What had changed?
After driving Hilary to her hotel, he’d made his way to his apartment, but couldn’t force himself out of the truck. His father had always been invincible. They’d butted heads arguing politics and medical protocols for years. Now it all seemed so...pointless. Resigned, Stillman unclipped the seat belt and pulled his cell phone out
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