Safe Harbor Page 12

  Jackson handed Jonas the next file opened, tapping it as Jonas took it. "This reads like trouble to me," Jackson said. "I don't like the letters he's written or the things he has to say. He has several of his 'flock' backing him up and their letters are even more fanatical than his. The Reverend believes Hannah, and models like her, are enticing young girls into perverted acts by showing off their bodies and promoting sexuality and promiscuity."

  Jonas swore. "What a self-righteous son of a bitch. He's the one forcing young girls to perverted acts. He has a little harem he's collecting, girls off the street, runaways. And the men in his flock are no sheep--more like wolves. So far we haven't been able to catch him at anything, but we suspect he has one of the biggest drug-running operations around."

  "Does Nikitin run drugs?" Sarah asked, handing back Rudy's file to Jackson.

  "Nikitin has his hand in nearly everything, but Tarasov, his biggest competitor, runs most of the drags in Russia," Jonas said. He didn't want to discuss Boris Tarasov, not after he'd seen the explosive material that had been on the film he and Jackson had turned over to their commander. Karl Tarasov and the Gadiyan brothers had managed to make it out of the country, but Petr had been quietly picked up trying to flee, and was being held at an undisclosed location. Jonas sure didn't want to know the location, but he did want to know who the traitor inside the defense department had been.

  "Do any of these files have anything at all to do with either of the Russians?" Sarah persisted. "Maybe Nikitin was there for a reason."

  "Nikitin has a reason for everything he does," Jonas agreed, "but neither man has ever threatened Hannah, or even communicated with her. And she doesn't know a thing about drugs so we can rule out the Russians. Nikitin often attends high-profile parties, particularly in the fashion and music industries. I think it's safe to say he went there to be seen rather than to see Hannah." But he wasn't ruling anything out altogether. Everyone was under suspicion, even Ilya--especially Ilya.

  "I want a closer look at the Reverend, too," Jonas said. "Sarah, study this file and tell me if you get any vibes off of him." He put the folder in her lap.

  "I can tell you he's creepy," Sarah said, her hand sliding over the papers. "And he's not opposed to violence--or money. He's fixated on Hannah and Joley, too."

  "Great." Jonas rubbed his pounding temples.

  Sarah drew in her breath. "He's got a wall of pictures and articles on our family. I can see it."

  "You freak me out when you do that," Damon said. "I'm never going to get used to it. Are you sure, Sarah?"

  She nodded. "To someone like the Reverend, my family would be the closest thing to Satan he could find on this earth. If he's discovered any of us can do the things we do, it might be reason enough for him to stir up his followers to violence."

  "There was a brief moment a reporter interviewed him and he quoted something from the Bible about reaping what we sow," Damon offered. "He looked very pious."

  "Self-righteous prick," Jonas snarled. "Put him at the top of the list."

  "This one is on the Let Animals Live Free, the LALF group. They've made quite a few threats to Hannah since she turned them down when they asked her to be a spokesperson for them. They have big bucks and a reputation in shambles thanks to her and one of her investigative reporter friends. They have a reputation for violence, all in the name of animal rights, of course, and we know members of the group have threatened her many times." Jackson handed Jonas the file. "I think we need to look very closely at them. One of the men who turned evidence against them, Benjamin Larsen, disappeared last summer."

  "He's the one who got rid of the animal bodies, and he was taking tiger parts and selling them on the black market." Jonas forced his mind to remember, to think of something other than Hannah, lying so close to death. He could hardly concentrate with the roaring in his ears and the protest pounding the hell out of his gut.

  "Exactly. A very lucrative business nowadays. The skin, the body parts, they can be worth a fortune if someone knows what they're doing. LALF would protest an animal sanctuary, get an injunction, take the animals away and euthanize them as soon as the reporters left. LALF claims they never received a penny of the money from the death of the animals, but Larsen claimed the domestic animals were given to research centers and the big cats were parted out on the black market."

  "That's just sick," Sarah said.

  "How in the world did Hannah get involved?" Damon asked.

  Jonas sighed. "When she was shaking hands with them, she picked up all kinds of images and she took it from there, asking a friend who was an investigative reporter to dig into it. The entire mess was discovered and it was a huge scandal. LALF weathered it, they have a lot of political clout. Politicians and celebrities like the image of saving wildlife and LALF is very good at getting publicity. They blamed it on a few overzealous members and hired a high-powered publicity firm to turn their image around. But Hannah's been getting letters ever since."

  Hannah. She'd cried over the knowledge, the impressions she'd gotten when she'd shaken the director's hand. Jonas had found her on the beach with tears running down her face. It was one of the few times he'd dared to hold her. She fit into his body so perfectly, made for him, belonging there. He'd wanted to slay every dragon for her to keep her from crying any more tears.

  She'd been soft and warm and all woman, her hair flowing around them like so much silk. The sea had erupted into stormy columns of white foam, crashing against the rocks in harmony with her wild storm of tears. The wind whirled around them, closing off the rest of the world, making him feel as if they were alone together, the sun setting in every shade of red and orange, a giant glowing ball pouring molten gold into the churning water. Everything had been beautiful and perfect and so right he ached every time he thought of it. Everything about Hannah was magical--even her tears.

  Jonas turned away from Jackson, making sure to keep from touching him. He knew Jackson was a powerful psychic, his talent different from the Drakes. He always wondered if Jackson could read people, pick up thoughts from them, but Jackson preferred silence to talking. He rarely gave anything about himself away. He certainly never discussed his psychic gifts.

  Jonas felt broken, unable to stop grieving for Hannah. He didn't need for Jackson to see him so torn up inside, to see the depth of his feeling and need for Hannah.

  "So LALF goes in the prime suspect pile," Damon said.

  "Let Sarah 'read' it," Jonas said.

  "I'm almost afraid to," Sarah said and reluctantly removed the folder from Jonas's lap. Her hands trembled. "I'm picking up a lot of jumbled things. Most of them feel genuinely passionate about saving animals. Unfortunately you have a couple who are using the organization for their own ends, which is basically money and power. And yes, there is hatred for Hannah. I can feel it, but can't give you a name. It feels male and female, so more than one. It could be a conspiracy." She made a face. "I'm sorry, Jonas, there are just too many people to get a good reading and it's all impressions anyway."

  "You're doing great, Sarah."

  She looked pale and exhausted. Jonas hoped he didn't look that way--scraped raw and exposed and so damn vulnerable for everyone to see. He whipped out his dark glasses and pushed them onto his nose to hide his eyes, afraid they were as red as Sarah's. His throat burned, his eyes felt like they had sand ground into them. He was a mess when he was supposed to be the one the Drakes could count on.

  Hannah. Baby. Don't you leave me. Maybe if he said it a million times, sent it out there into the universe, she'd somehow hear. She'd know all the things he should have told her. Like she was his sanity. She was pure magic. Everything he'd ever dreamed of--ever wanted. She was the woman who made him whole. She made him laugh, soothed him, made him angry, gave him a reason to come home in one piece. Do you hear me, Hannah? Don't let go. Wait for me. Be with me.

  His heart even hurt. Physically hurt. How many times had he gone to a house and told the occupants a loved one had died? There had bee
n pain on their faces, emotions so ravaged he'd left the house feeling sick--and gone to Hannah. She'd taken it all away for him. But this--nothing hurt like this. Hannah couldn't take this away--not ever. He would wake up with nightmares over this. He'd never get over the image of someone stabbing Hannah, a vicious, determined look on his face. He doubted he'd ever let her get five feet from him again.

  "Why the hell didn't I stop her from going?"

  "Don't, Jonas," Sarah said softly. "Don't even go there. Hannah signed a contract. She made a commitment. Even if she didn't want to go, she would have kept her word."

  "Who's next?" Damon asked. "You have a lot of folders there."

  Jackson reached into the briefcase. "Stay focused, Jonas."

  Jonas felt the briefcase in his hands, knew he'd yanked it out of Jackson's possession. "You want me fucking focused?" He threw the case down the aisle and followed it up, kicking hard with his boot, then whirled around to slam his fist into the nearest empty chair.

  Thunder crashed in his ears, his eyes burned, his throat raw. "What the hell is there without her? Tell me that, Jackson. Tell me what the fuck I'm going to do without her. Because I don't know." He looked up then, helpless, impotent, lost. "I stood there watching--watching--as that bastard carved her into pieces." He spread his hands. "What is it with me and the women I love?" He turned and stormed down the aisle to the back of the plane, leaving the others sitting in stunned silence.

  "Damn it," Jackson said. "He's losing it, Sarah."

  "This is so close to home for him. You know about his life, his mother, right? He can't take it when things are out of his control."

  Damon squeezed her shoulder. "I've always been curious."

  "Very wealthy parents. Left him a fortune and a beautiful estate. They were older when they had him and they always wanted children. He was adored by both of them. Father died when he was five, and by the time he was six or seven, his mother was already pretty much confined to bed. He totally took over running their household. Did the shopping, paid the bills, read to his mom, just as if he were all grown up. It was crazy."

  She rubbed her temples. "I'm not explaining this very well. After she gave birth, her immune system failed for whatever reason. The doctors said it was a traumatic event and her body reacted, but no one really knows. From that point on she was very frail, but she refused, absolutely refused, to give in to illness. Jonas took on the responsibilities because that's his nature and he loved her--she belonged with him. She was his family. Eventually she got cancer. It was horribly painful, but she had a will of iron. It nearly killed him that he couldn't stop her suffering. He came to our house when it just got so bad he couldn't look at her or think about her anymore."

  Damon glanced down the plane toward the bathroom. "Should you talk to him?"

  "What can I say? He knows as well as I do that the chances of saving Hannah are very small. We were there. Watching. Hannah is his family. The love of his life. She's what makes him want to get up in the morning. They belong. He feels completely helpless, and for Jonas, there isn't anything much worse when it comes to someone he loves. All of this"--she gestured to the files--"won't matter if she dies."

  She hit her head against the seat. "Why didn't he show these files to me before--when he was so nasty about her going to work. I would have backed him up."

  She handed one to Damon. "Look at this. This is a woman who stalked Hannah for about ten months. A restraining order was issued and the woman went a little crazy and slashed up a collection of clothes Hannah modeled. How she got backstage no one knew, but Hannah wasn't in the building; she'd already left."

  Jonas reappeared, taking the file from her hand and seating himself beside her. "I put her on high priority because she used a knife, was able to penetrate security, and she was recently released from prison. The designer prosecuted and she was incarcerated." Jackson put the file into Jonas's hands. "Her name is Susan Briggs, she's middle-aged, looks normal but is obviously ill."

  "She's definitely not all there and she's capable of extreme violence. She hears voices, probably schizophrenic. Put her in the high probability stack." Sarah tried to keep her voice even when she wanted to throw her arms around him and comfort him. "You should have showed all these to me."

  Jonas looked down at her and Sarah winced. She knew the files existed. Joley probably had more. She hadn't wanted to know because she didn't want to be like Jonas, afraid for them, angry with them, wanting them to stay home and be safe. Maybe she'd known all along it was like this, so many nutcases, attracted by the glamour of Hannah's job and her flawless beauty.

  "Oh, Jonas, what that man did to her." Sarah pressed both hands over her face. "I can't bear it. Even if she lives..."

  "She will live," Jonas said. "That's all that matters. You can't think about anything else." Because he couldn't. He couldn't allow his mind to go there again. He didn't know what he'd do if the worst happened.

  "Hannah is so different, though. Fragile and gentle. How will she ever get over the trauma of this kind of an attack?"

  Damon wrapped his arms around her. "Hannah is stronger than you think. She'll rise above it. You wait and see. She's a Drake through and through and she has all of us to help her. She'll get through this."

  Sarah looked at Jonas. Instinctively she knew, if anyone was going to get Hannah through this, it would be Jonas--but who was going to get him through it? She'd never seen him so strained. Nothing to date had ever shaken Jonas's confidence in himself, but he'd been a wild man, out of control, scaring the hell out of her in the aftermath of Hannah's attack. He'd been crazy, tearing up the room, smashing things, his face so twisted with anguish she'd managed to set aside her own unrestrained grief to help Jackson rein him in. And she could still see--and feel--the wild rage smoldering in him now. He had once again brought it under control, but it could erupt with any provocation.

  There was no doubt Jonas loved Hannah. There had never been a doubt in anyone's mind except Hannah's--but no one had known the force of that love, the deep, ingrained need he had of her. Sarah still found it hard to look at him--he was so ravaged. Jonas. Their rock. Shattered into so many shards. Holding himself together through sheer force of will.

  "We need your sisters. Libby has to get here fast." Jonas raked both hands through his hair. "She's coming home, right?"

  Sarah nodded. Libby was a healer. Jonas knew she could perform what virtually amounted to miracles. She'd saved his life with the help of all the other Drake sisters, but they weren't going to arrive in time for this one. None of them. If Ilya Prakenskii couldn't hold Hannah, she was lost to them. Jonas desperately needed to believe Sarah and her sisters could save Hannah, but she needed to believe Prakenskii could.

  "Tell me what you know about the bodyguard. Who is Sergei Nikitin and what exactly does Prakenskii do for him? And Jonas, this time, tell me the truth. I know you know more about him than you're letting on. I don't care if he's some big government secret, I have to know who he is. He's all we've got right now."

  "It might take Abbey to get to anything of value on Prakenskii," Jonas said. "I'm telling you, I ran into a stone wall when I tried to find out about him. I used every connection I had in the defense department as well as the Army Rangers, and I got zilch on him. The guy isn't what he appears to be, and he's got layers of protection built in around his file."

  Sarah was silent, her small teeth chewing on her bottom lip as she turned the information over in her mind. "What about Sergei Nikitin? What do you have on him?"

  "He's an altogether different kind of fish--big fish. No one has ever been able to pin anything on him, not in his country or ours or in Europe. Interpol has been trying for several years. He emerged strong from a rather bloody turf war. The spoils were divided several ways until he suddenly came on the scene, and then after a very nasty battle between factions, Sergei Nikitin and Boris and Petr Tarasov were left standing. There are others, but not like them. The leftovers were divided between the two families and the rest
is history. Both families are extremely violent, willing to kill and torture to prove their point, which basically is that no one had better mess with them--and no one does."

  "Are they friends?"

  "They do business together, but no, they posture at each other. There have been a few killings between the two factions, but for the most part, they leave one another alone."

  "Do any of the models run drugs?" Jackson asked Sarah. "Has she ever mentioned she was worried about someone? She would pick that up working so close to them. Or maybe one of the designers. They're bringing in clothes and props from all over the world."

  Sarah leaned her head back against Damon's shoulder. "She mentioned that it went on. Mostly the girls who used. She'd say they weren't going to make it in the business. Some of them started using to stay thin. It's a hazard of the business, like eating disorders. It's high pressure, Jonas."

  Jonas took a deep breath. He didn't give a damn about the job or why one of them might choose to run drugs. He only cared about the fact that one of them may have inadvertently pulled Hannah into a dangerous situation.

  "When Libby comes, if Hannah's still alive, she can make it all right again, can't she?" Jonas wasn't certain what he meant, but he had to ask, to be reassured. "Tell me she can do that."

  "If Hannah's still alive, we'll seal ourselves together and bind her to us," Sarah said. "That's what we did to you, using Hannah's connection to you."

  There was a small silence. "I don't know what that means. I'm connected to all of you." Jonas frowned and rubbed his head again.

  Sarah pressed both hands to his head before he could stop her. Warmth flowed from her to him, removing the pounding headache.

  Jonas jerked away. "What are you doing? Save your strength for Hannah."

  "I know, I couldn't help it," Sarah admitted. "Yes, we're all connected to you, Jonas, but not like Hannah. Your link with her is one of the strongest I've ever seen. In our family, we develop strong connections with our partners. Mom and Dad have a tremendous link between them. We all joke and say it's forged in steel, but you and Hannah..." She trailed off.