Chapter 2

 

30 Minutes Ago

 

Kate Sharpe stood in the tiny bathroom and stared at her beleaguered reflection. She was twenty-eight with dark brown hair that was pulled back into a simple, but functional ponytail. Her figure was trim and fit from daily exercises. She usually hit the gym after work. There wasn’t much in life that could persuade her to get up before seven am. She was five six and her skin was an odd shade of dark pale. Light freckles caressed her neck and hands. The dark circles beneath her blue eyes had grown more pronounced since she had awoken at three that morning. She didn’t bother with any makeup. It would have taken too much time away from sleep and there weren’t any men in her life worth impressing.

Sighing, she splashed some water on her face. At this rate she was probably going to stop shaving her legs, too. Her mother would be horrified. She had very specific ideas regarding how to attract a husband and Kate didn’t fit very well with those ideas.

Kate dried her face and checked her reflection again. She still looked tired, only now her face was red from the paper towels. What she needed was caffeine. The buzz from the concoction she had picked up at the Beanery two hours ago was already wearing off. One of those headaches, the dull throbbing ones that only came when she didn’t sleep enough was lurking around the edges of her head.

Maybe she’ll be able to get an hour or two of sleep during the trip, although she wasn’t counting on it.

She wiped the paper towels at the wet spots on her T-shirt from her face wash, then tossed them into the trash. She shifted the holster at the small of her back; it kept digging uncomfortably into her buttocks every time she sat. She made sure her jacket still covered it. No need to alarm the passengers of Flight 260. After all, she was just a US Marshal, not a terrorist.

_____

 

Kate exited the tiny bathroom just as the plane hit some turbulence. The captain’s calm, collected voice came over the intercom.

“Alright, folks, I’m just gonna have to ask ya’ll to stay seated for a little bit here. We’ve run into a bit of turbulence and I don’t want anyone bumping their heads, okay?”

Kate carefully made her way to the back of the plane. She walked past the four flight attendants who were huddled together in their tiny workspace area. They were speaking in low voices and stopped speaking altogether when Kate walked by them. She could feel their eyes briefly settle on her, before moving past her. She had no doubt as to what they were talking about.

The last five rows at the back of the plane were left empty on purpose. Her partner, Ray Phillips sat in the second to last row next to the window. He was a grizzled old veteran in his late sixties looking forward to retirement. Just ask him, he’ll tell you all about it. Beside him sat the topic of the flight attendants, a tall, ridiculously attractive man with a strong muscular build. His name was Kyle Archer. If she could have, Kate would have traded seats with the flight attendants. There was something about the way he smelled. It wasn’t offensive, quite the opposite. It was intoxicating. And intoxicating wasn’t what she needed now.

She reached her row and nodded over her shoulder. “The flight attendants are going to be a problem.”

Ray shrugged it off. He was dressed in a rumpled suit that looked a few days old. He claimed he liked to stick to regulations, oddly though he had a loose sense of those regulations. “Eh, don’t worry about them. They’re just kids. They ain’t never seen anybody in handcuffs up close is all.”

“We just came from Washington DC,” Kate said, sitting on the other side of Archer. She buckled up. “The city has one of the highest crime rates on this coast. I don’t think it’s a looky-loo thing.”

Archer smelled like wood and sweat. It was animalistic. It was primal.

She tried breathing through her mouth.

“Are you insinuating something about our prisoner, partner?”

The handcuffs jingled as Archer raised his hands. “I am sitting right here.”

No, breathing through her mouth wasn’t going to help, because every time he opened his mouth she wanted to melt.

Kyle Archer was in his mid-thirties with unkempt black hair and ruggedly handsome features. His eyes were a dark green that seemed to radiate both a serene calm and a childlike laughter at the same time. He was dressed casually, so as not to alarm the passengers, but he was the type of man that would have looked just at home in a pair of boots and jeans, working on some Texas ranch. Kate had a hard time suppressing the vision, as he was also shirtless out on that unnamed Texas ranch, sweat glistening on a chiseled torso.

Kate rubbed her eyes and tried to bring herself back to the here and now. Kyle Archer might have been easy on the eyes but he was also a hardened criminal. After all, he was the one in the handcuffs.

“So, they’re talking about me?” he asked. He tried leaning across Kate to look down the aisle. “What are they saying?”

“That you’re a lowlife scumbag,” Kate replied, pushing him back into his seat. Again she felt the spark. It was the same earlier that day when she had grabbed him by the arm to take him out of lock-up, an electrifying spark that was brief and intense. She didn’t like having to touch this man, it felt too good.

“Really? I would have thought they’d be talking about my bedroom eyes.”

“Then you’re a very poor judge of character,” she said.

“Well, I don’t know about that,” he looked her up and down. “I think I’ve got you figured out.”

“Oh boy,” Ray said. “Let me give you some free advice, buddy: Do not go there.”

“Listen to the old guy,” Kate said.

“Old,” Ray muttered. “I’m not even old enough to be your father.”

Kate raised an eyebrow. “Who you fooling?”

Ray just grunted and turned back to his magazine.

“You don’t like me very much,” Archer said to Kate.

“Wow. I take it back. You are a great judge of character,” Kate said.

“There’s no need for sarcasm.”

“Yes, there is,” Kate said. “Your kind is a little dense. You don’t stop unless somebody holds up a giant sign that says ‘stop’ and holds a gun to your head.”

“My kind?” he repeated.

Kate settled back in her chair. “It’s a long flight, Archer. I just have to get you to Miami. I don’t have to talk to you.”

“Well, like you said, it’s a long flight, and there’s no movie. Why shouldn’t we get to know each other?”

“I’ve read your file,” Kate said. “I know all about you.”

“That’s hardly everything about me,” he said. He leaned over and whispered, “After all, my file didn’t say anything about my devilish good looks, did it?”

Kate looked at him. He was leaning too close. She got a noseful of his intoxicating aroma. “I’ve got half a mind to toss you off this plane, you know.”

“That would be counter-productive.”

“My assignment is to get you to Miami,” Kate said. “Nothing was said about what kind of condition you’re supposed to arrive in.”

“Actually,” Ray spoke up, “we’re supposed to bring him in alive and well.”

“There you have it,” Archer said. “From the wise old veteran himself. I cannot be tossed off the plane.”

“You keep calling me old, I might have a different interpretation of the rules,” Ray growled.

Kate leaned forward and pulled a magazine out from the seat pouch. She dropped it on Archer’s lap. “Here. Read. Stop talking to me.”

He glanced at the cover. “I’ve read this one already.”

Kate sighed. “You’re trying my patience.”

“Is a little human contact too much to ask for?”

“In your case, yes.”

“Kate, can I call you Kate?”

“No.”

“Ms. Sharpe, then. It is Ms, right?”

“Marshal Sharpe will do fine.”

Archer smiled. It was a crooked smile, but no less charming. “Marshal Sharpe.”

“You’re not going to shut up for the entire flight, are you?”

“I’m going to a minimum security prison for the next ten years,” he said. “I’m not going to see a lot of women. You’re quite an attractive lady. I’m stuck with you for the next eight hours, so, no, I’m not going to be quiet.”

“At least he’s honest,” Ray said.

Kate looked around Archer. “Whose side are you on?”

“Whichever side is going to stop calling me old. I can still beat both your butts.”

“What time did you have to get up this morning?” Archer asked her.

“Early.”

“And you’re not an early riser.”

“No.”

“You know, this conversation thing would go a lot better if you gave me more than one word answers.”

“Why aren’t you talking to him?” Kate pointed at Ray.

“Well, he’s not a pretty woman,” Archer replied. “Didn’t we cover this already?”

“Flattery isn’t going to help you,” she said.

“Are you sure?”

“Just because you chose to grow a conscious when your boss, Bragan, decided to get into the human trafficking business, in addition to his already profitable drug empire, doesn’t make you all white and shiny.”

Archer plucked at his shirt uncomfortably. “Let’s not talk about that so loudly.”

“Embarrassed?”

“Not at all,” he said. “I am, however, concerned. I came to you guys with enough dirt on Jonathan Bragan to put him away for the next two hundred years, at considerable risk to myself, for which my reward was ten years in minimum-security prison. However, you guys managed to lose Bragan on the first try and now he’s disappeared. The man’s been known to carry grudges.”

“He’s got a point,” Ray said. “There’s a reason this thing’s classified need-to-know, Kate,” he looked up to find her glaring at him. “I’m just saying, he has a point. We’re forty-five thousand feet in the sky. I don’t think it’s very likely we have to worry about a retaliation from Bragan up here. But he does have a point.”

“There you have it,” Archer said. “Once again, validated by the grizzled old veteran.”

“Don’t push your luck, buddy,” Ray growled.

“Right. Sorry,” he said and turned his attention back to Kate. “So…”

She pointedly ignored him. It wasn’t easy, but as long as she didn’t look at him, and didn’t breathe, she could pretend he wasn’t there.

“How does your,” he paused, trying to decide on the right word, “boyfriend feel about you getting up so early? Is he an anti-early riser, too?”

Kate couldn’t believe her ears. She looked at him. “Excuse me? Did you just ask me about my boyfriend?”

Archer looked at her innocently. “I didn’t see a ring on your finger, so I assumed he wouldn’t be your husband. Was that out of line?”

“Way, way, way out of line,” she replied. She looked over at Ray. “Why aren’t you saying anything?”

“I’m minding my own business,” Ray said, not looking up from his magazine. “Besides, he’s not asking me about my boyfriend.”

Kate frowned. “Thank you for your support,” she looked back at Archer, but was careful not to look him in the eye. His gaze was hypnotic. “No more questions about my personal life.”

“Do you follow any sports?” he asked.

“No.”

“What’s the last good book you read?”

“I don’t like reading.”

“Seen any good movies lately?”

“Nope.”

“We could talk about the weather,” he suggested.

“Or we could just sit here quietly,” Kate countered.

Archer was silent for a moment. “Does this mean you don’t have any romantic entanglements?”

“What did I just say?”

“You suggested that we just sit here quietly,” he answered.

“And how do you get ‘Ask her about her personal life’ from that?”

He shrugged. “You vetoed all my other discussion topics. Besides, what are you going to do? Throw me in prison?”

“You’re my prisoner,” she said. “I’m not discussing my personal life with you. And you,” she looked pointedly at Ray, “could help here.”

“Yes, I could,” Ray agreed and continued reading his magazine.

“So, you’re not involved with anyone right now?” Archer asked. “In-between-”

Kate held up a hand. “Do not finish that thought. We are not discussing this.”

“Excuse me.”

Kate looked up. It was one of the flight attendants. The older one. Her name was Sharon. Kate couldn’t remember but she thought she might have been the head flight attendant.

“Yes?”

Sharon leaned forward, resting her hands on the seat in front of them, and spoke in a low voice. “Ms. Sharpe, Mr. Phillips, I am sorry to bother you,” her voice had a slight southern twang to it, “but we have these two gentlemen up in first class who are making some of the other flight attendants uncomfortable,” she paused and when neither of Marshals spoke up, she added, “They’re Middle Eastern.”

“Ah,” Kate shifted uncomfortably. “Sharon, don’t you have an Air Marshal on this flight?”

She frowned and shook her head. “I’m afraid not. Marshal Dexter came down with the flu and they couldn’t get a replacement to us before we took off.”

“Well, I’m sure they are two very innocent men,” Kate said, trying to remain diplomatic. “We can’t leave our prisoner unattended.”

Archer raised his shackled hands. “I have cuffs on and we’re forty-five thousand feet in the air. Where am I going to go?”

“Regardless,” Kate continued. “Just because they look Middle Eastern doesn’t that they’re automatically terrorists.”

“They’ve been talking back and forth for the last half hour in some weird foreign language.”

Kate sighed. “Ma’am, does profiling mean anything to you?”

“I’ll look into it,” Ray said, shoving his magazine back into the seat pouch and getting up before Sharon could answer Kate.

“Ray,” Kate began.

“Don’t worry, kid,” he said, moving out to the aisle. “I’ll be tactful. They’re probably just a couple of accountants. What terrorist flies first class?”

Sharon led him to the front of the plane and Kate settled back into her seat.

“Finally, alone at last,” Archer said.

“Please don’t talk to me.”

“You’re not the least bit interested in me?”

“No,” she lied.

“You know, you have the most beautiful blue eyes.”

She closed her eyes. “That counts as talking.”

“You don’t think, that perhaps had we met under different circumstances,” he started.

“Okay, stop right there,” she opened her eyes. “I’m not going to spend the rest of this flight listening to you trying to flirt with me. Under different circumstances, nothing would be different. You’d still be a bad guy and I’d still a good guy.”

Archer paused for a second. “That wouldn’t be different circumstances.”

“You don’t give up, do you?”

He gave her that crooked smile again. “It’s what makes me so charming.”

“You should get a second opinion.”

“Fair enough,” Archer settled back.

Kate was surprised. “Don’t tease me.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re just going to stop?”

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” he asked.

“Yes, but I didn’t actually expect you to listen to me,” she said.

Archer smiled. “I make it a habit to do the unexpected.”

“Apparently, I spoke too soon.”

“Did you request this assignment?” he asked.

“Did I-?” Kate started. “Don’t flatter yourself. Ray and I drew the short straw.”

“Ah,” Archer nodded. “So you were on assignment elsewhere?”

“As a matter of fact, I was due for some vacation,” Kate said.

“Really? And where does the beautiful Marshal Sharpe go to unwind?” Archer asked.

“The beach.”

Archer ran his eyes over her body, taking in her curves. “I can see that,” he said. His voice got a little husky.

“Well, un-see it,” Kate snapped.

“It’s not an easy thing to do,” Archer said. “You are an attractive lady.”

“This is going to be a long flight,” she muttered.

“Why don’t you tell me a little bit about yourself?” he suggested.

“And why would I want to do that?”

“Because you’ve made it quite clear that you know everything there is to know about me,” Archer said. “So I have nothing to talk about.”

“Then why don’t you meditate in silence?” Kate suggested. She caught herself studying the definition in his exposed forearm. It was tight and muscular. He could probably even lift her over his head if he wanted to.

Archer started to say something else when there was a scream followed by the unmistakable sound of a gunshot.