Love On the Run by Rachel Ann Nunes

Author:Rachel Ann Nunes [Nunes, Rachel Ann]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Christian Romance, Suspense
ISBN: 978-1-939203-16-8
Publisher: White Star Press
Published: 2012-05-06T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

FBI AGENTS TELEPHONED FRED WHEN they caught up with Donelli’s plane in New York. Unfortunately, they had nothing on which to hold the plane, nor did they find anyone matching Brooke’s description. All passports, papers, and flight plans were in order.

“Weren’t there any women on board at all?” asked Fred. The handwriting expert had given his opinion that the scribbled message in the drawer could have been written by Brooke Erickson, although absolute identification was impossible due to the nature of the instrument she had used to make the letters and the brevity of the message. The ring had held equally useless smudged partial prints that had not identified Brooke. Still, the two together made him sure of her involvement.

“There was one woman,” said the New York agent. “But her hair was different and her eyes were green. She didn’t look much like that picture you sent, and she certainly wasn’t there under duress. She and one of the guys were actually quite cozy.”

“Giorgio.”

“Yeah, that was his name.”

“She didn’t try to send any hidden messages?”

“None that I could see. I tell you, she’s not the person you’re searching for.”

“What was the name on her passport?”

“Let’s see. It’s here somewhere.”

Fred heard the shuffle of papers and stifled his irritation. He rubbed the bandage on his arm.

“Found it. The name’s Laranda Garrettson.”

Fred pulled his hand away from the bandage as though burned. “Garrettson?” he barked. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Does that mean anything to you?”

“Laranda Garrettson is supposed to be dead.” Fred let the sentence hang in the air. “Stop that plane.”

“Too late. It’s gone.”

“I want a photo or drawing of this woman immediately. And have someone waiting for that plane in Portugal. At the least, the woman is an imposter. At worst, she’s a wanted criminal who faked her own death.”

Fred had barely hung up the phone when another call came through, this one from London. “One of our agents guarding the Landines called from Portugal,” he was told. “The cabin was attacked. The Landines and the boy aren’t there, and he’s not sure what happened to them—he was unconscious for a while. TC Brohaugh is there, however, but he’s dead. That’s all we know.”

He broke the connection, feeling stunned. With Brohaugh dead and Donelli in a plane over the Atlantic, who was responsible for the attack on Jared and Cassi? The fact that Donelli was headed to Portugal was not in his favor. Obviously, the mob boss knew more than he had let on. But where did the woman calling herself Laranda fit into all this? And where was Brooke?

Fred thought for a long moment and then called Justin into his office. “I’m turning this investigation over to you.”

“What?” Justin blinked several times in amazement.

“You heard me. It’s about time I take a vacation like those up the line have been ordering me to do for the past five years. I’m entitled. And you’re more than able to take care of this case.”

A sudden understanding smile played on Justin’s lips. “I take it you’ll be flying to your destination?”

“You got it.

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