Barefoot Bound: A Barefoot Bay Undercover Prequel Page 2

  “The what?”

  “The Jamaican Children’s Fund that’s going to bring my three nephews right here to this country. Every time someone curses in my presence, they pay accordingly. Those li’l four-letter ones, a dollar. The D-word is three. Five for F or anything I don’t like that starts with C. You blaspheme my Lord and Savior’s name, and it’s always ten, non-negotiable. Now, you started with ten, then added one. So, that’ll be eleven dollars.”

  His jaw loosened. “Why is D more than the S-word?”

  She looked appalled. “Don’t you read the Bible?”

  “I’m going to assume that’s a rhetorical question.”

  She actually smiled, surprising the shit out of him. “You owe me eleven dollars, and I’m that much closer to seeing those boys.”

  “Two hundred wouldn’t help?”

  She sighed as if she was just plumb tired of him. “I don’t take bribes or ill-gotten gains, Mr. Baby Blues.” At the sound of another golf cart, she turned. “Here’s your ride, sir.”

  The cart rounded the corner, and Gabe instantly recognized Luke McBain, who’d changed a lot since his days in the French Foreign Legion, but still sported sizable guns and rugged features.

  “What the hell?” Luke muttered.

  “Careful, every word is costly around here,” Gabe said.

  “Do you know this man, Mr. McBain?”

  “I sure do.” Luke was off the cart, hand extended, looking like he might want to press Gabe into a hug, but the undersized towel and what it didn’t cover stopped him. Still, Gabe lobbed a smug face at Poppy.

  “But you ain’t Mr. Carriger,” she shot back.

  “No, he isn’t,” Luke confirmed. “This is Gabriel Rossi. He’s a legend.”

  “Maybe in his own mind, but not in my book.” She stepped back to her cart while Gabe just laughed.

  “What are you doing out here like this, man?” Luke asked.

  “Didn’t you ask me for a weekend consult on your security systems?” He gave Luke’s back a whack with one hand. The other still held the towel. “First test passed with flying colors.” He gestured to the woman with an angled head. “Dude, you got eleven bucks?”

  Luke inched back and reached into his pocket. “I think so. Why?”

  “Cover me what I owe my friend Popcorn. She’s fierce.”

  A row of blinding-white teeth appeared in her dark, coffee-colored skin.

  Luke, a mix of amused and confused, pulled out a ten and a one and gave them to her. “Thanks for whatever it is you did, Poppy.”

  “Just my job.” She took the money and stuffed it into her pocket.

  “And you did it well,” Gabe added. She was a woman who took no shit from no one. Gabe could use a person like her on his team. Someone who would keep her mouth shut when she had to, which, with what he had in mind, would be always. As she started to walk away, he called after her, “You should get a promotion to the security department, Pop Star.”

  She turned and lowered her chin, frowning at him. “Why would I want that?”

  “Because if you spend enough time with me, you’ll have those boys in your arms in about a week.” Gabe rubbed his fingers together in the universal gesture for cash. “My loose lips could sail ships. From Jamaica.”

  She gave a grudging laugh and passed by him. “’Scuze me. I got a villa to clean.”

  As she disappeared through the entrance of Bay Laurel, Gabe turned to Luke, who was cool enough to not ask questions but smart enough to look like he sure as hell wanted some answers.

  “Let me get dressed,” Gabe said.

  “Good call.”

  Chapter Two

  Once Gabe was dressed, he returned to Luke, who was waiting in the golf cart. As Gabe slid onto the bench, he slipped on his sunglasses, folded his arms, and leaned back. “You don’t need to give me the five-dollar tour, man. This place is exactly what I want.”

  “I thought you’d enjoy a few days in paradise,” Luke said. “And I sure appreciate any advice you can give me on starting a security business.”

  Yes, that was the original deal, but Gabe had to persuade Luke to do a lot more than just take his advice. “Head north.” He pointed up the path. “There are nice ladies up there, and I hear they have handcuffs.”

  Luke gave a slow smile. “No, thanks. I’m engaged.”

  “Mazel tov.” Gabe held his knuckles up for a tap.

  “Thanks, and, honestly, I didn’t ask you down here for all fun and games. I really do need some advice on the business and operations end of a full security and protection company. Not just for the resort, but McBain Security, Inc. will serve the whole island, and hopefully reach into the wealthy pockets of Naples. There’s a ton of money down here, plus a minor league baseball team and owners. I know the basics, but I need advice on how to manage and grow the business.”

  Gabe nodded. “I can help, since I’m currently part of a security business that is tops in the field, despite a mind-numbingly stupid name.”

  “The Guardian Angelinos? But that’s your cousins’ last name, isn’t it?”

  “It is.”

  “And they do professional protection, general security, and investigations, as I recall. How do you like that, Gabe?”

  There was enough skepticism in the question that Gabe suspected his friend thought he knew the answer. And that worked just fine. Boredom would be the explanation he’d give anyone who had to know his motivations for making this move. The real reason? Beyond classified.

  “Most days, I’m so bored I’m counting the hairs on my balls for amusement.”

  Luke snorted. “That sounds like you. But I’m stoked to start this business.”

  “As you should be. In fact, I’m going to join you.”

  Luke tapped on the brakes, slowly looking sideways. “For the weekend.”

  “For…good.”

  That was met with silence, then a quick laugh. “You’re kidding, of course.”

  “Not exactly.”

  Luke nearly hooted a laugh. “You’re counting ball hairs in Boston? I’m pretty sure you’d be plucking them out after a few weeks on Mimosa Key working for me.”

  “With you,” he corrected. “And, no worries, you can keep the guests of Casa Blanca safe from the baddies all by yourself. However, I am on the hunt for the perfect place to set up a new operation.” He made a sweeping gesture toward the whole resort. “I think I’ve found it. And a security company as a front could not be better.”

  “A front?” Luke threw him a look as he started the cart moving again. “Okay. Now you sound more like the spook I met in Somalia.”

  “Good times, eh, Ricard?” Gabe grinned, remembering the tricky mission he’d been on with the group of Legionnaires where he’d met, and come to respect, McBain. That was long before Guantanamo, though. Luke would never guess Gabe’s real reason for moving to Florida.

  Luke’s lip curled. “Hate that name.”

  “Oh, yeah, I remember. But everything’s cool now?”

  “Completely. And I’m happy here. Happier than I’ve ever been.” Luke turned onto a dirt path that ran alongside a farmette that looked sizable enough to feed the guests. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but why would you—a spy with an undercover career that reads like a Tom Clancy novel—consider working at a resort in Florida?”

  “No shit, man. What the fuck is wrong with me?” Gabe grinned and elbowed his friend. “Seriously, I’m just like the next guy, looking to make the almighty dollar. And I think I’ve hit on a way to do that.”

  Luke looked skeptical. “Here?”

  “Right here,” Gabe said. “Look, since I’ve been working in the security industry with my cousins, I keep seeing a need that, to my knowledge, no one has figured out a way to fill. My biggest obstacle so far has been finding the right place.” He gestured toward a cul-de-sac of similar-looking stucco houses, built to blend with the style of the resort, but far more understated. “What’s this?”

  “These were originally bu
ilt as staff housing, but now the outsourced services have offices here. Housekeeping, Excursions, and now Security. I’m going to take over at least one of the bungalows for office space, maybe two. They’re vacant at the moment and the one on the end is still a small home.”

  “Nice.” Gabe hopped out of the moving cart. “Can I rent it and live there?”

  “Hang on a second.” Luke stopped the cart, came around the front, and narrowed his eyes. “What is this ‘operation’ you’re setting up? And what does it have to do with trying to trip up my staff and get them fired?”

  Gabe laughed. “You eighty-six that Jamaican firecracker and she’ll have a job with me an hour later. Even if you don’t, I bet I can lure her to the dark side.”

  Luke wasn’t amused. “Tell me about the business and, more importantly, is it legit, legal, and safe?”

  “It’s badass, brilliant, and lucrative.” At Luke’s hardened look, Gabe laughed, adding, “And yes, it’s…pretty safe. Mostly legit. Legal”—he shrugged—“enough.”

  Luke shook his head. “I can’t let something onto this property that will jeopardize any staff or guest.”

  “Nothing will,” Gabe assured him, serious now. “All I need is a place where it looks like I’m working, and I can run my own little setup, invisible to all.”

  Luke just stared at him. “Not until I know exactly what your ‘little setup’ is.”

  Gabe blew out a breath, sliding his hands into his pockets as he walked closer to the bungalows, choosing his words carefully. The business he had planned was legit, and it would make money. It was also something that had to be kept on the down low, which suited Gabe perfectly.

  “There are people who need protection, a place to hide, even a new identity, and they don’t always qualify for a legit government program like witness protection.”

  “What kind of people?”

  “Good people,” Gabe insisted. “Potential kidnap victims, abused wives, a poor schmuck who got mixed up with the wrong crowd. I’ve seen it with my cousins’ clients. There are people who need more than basic security—they need a safe place that is off the grid but still in plain sight.” He glanced at Luke to see if he was getting it and saw the other man nodding. “That kind of ‘private witness protection’ is pricey, hard to find, and even harder to keep a secret. That’s where my little business will come in.”

  “Doing what, exactly?”

  Gabe grinned. “Shit no one else can, homes. I know how to run, hide, transform, and show up as another person on a different continent better than any other spook out there. Why not put those skills to good use and make serious cash from people who are willing to pay for that kind of überprotection? Sometimes, a bodyguard isn’t what they want or need. They require more than standard security, and that’s where I come in.”

  “Will they stay here, or is this ‘überprotection’ some kind of a pit stop on their way to another place? I don’t want to populate this island with people in trouble.”

  Gabe shrugged, knowing he didn’t have all the answers yet. “Depends on the case. I imagine most will move on, staying here only long enough for me to do the legwork to get them a new identity and home. Some might stay. Some might even need one of your bodyguards while they’re here. We’ll have to take each deal as it comes.”

  Listening, Luke crossed his arms and looked toward the company housing as if trying to picture this whole thing unfolding there. “So, you want to ‘work’ in a security company, but what you’d really be doing is something under the radar.”

  “Exactly.” On more levels than Luke would ever know.

  “Why not use the Guardian Angelinos as a front?”

  He had this answer all ready. “I need a contained place with very little access in and out, like this island. It needs to be a setting that is ‘hidden’ and protected, but not secret. A place where people come and go and ‘guests’ can become anyone, but I have to have a reason for being here. This resort fits my needs to a T.” He unlatched his hands and leaned forward. “And there will be a generous cut for McBain Security, Inc.”

  Luke eyed him for a long time. “I don’t want money for nothing.”

  “Like I said, I’m sure I’ll need your help from time to time and offering me the space and freedom and privacy I need? Worth every penny I’ll pay you.”

  “How are you going to find clients?”

  Gabe just laughed. “Dude, they find me.”

  Luke still wasn’t convinced. Gabe could tell by the dubious look in his eyes. “Who’s going to believe that you, Gabriel Rossi, has decided to move to an island in Florida and live the quiet life as a consultant to a security firm?”

  Gabe put a hand on Luke’s shoulder. “I can make anyone believe anything.”

  “You didn’t make Poppy believe you were a locked-out guest,” Luke challenged.

  “Which makes me certain I picked the right place. I told you, it was a security test. If the basics weren’t here, I couldn’t make this work. But they are, and I can.” He tightened his grip. “Gimme a chance, and we’ll see how it works out. I think this place is ideal for running, hiding, and reinventing.”

  Luke didn’t answer for a long time, his eyes narrowing. “You know what I think?”

  “That your fairy fucking godfather just landed with a pot of gold?”

  “I think you’re the one running, hiding, and reinventing, Rossi.”

  Gabe didn’t flinch, didn’t give anything away. “Just say yes or no, bro.”

  Luke waited a long time. Then he smiled. “You know I’m going to say yes, but you better have answers to my questions.”

  Some, not all. Gabe grinned and smacked Luke’s shoulder. “I’ll answer your questions and make shit up if I don’t know the answer.”

  “I suspected as much. Can you still give me some time this weekend?”

  “Of course. I’m yours for three days, then I’ll head back up to Boston to break the news to my family.”

  Luke lifted surprised brows. “They don’t know you’re leaving or starting this business?”

  “Not yet, but they’ll come around. I might bring one or two of them with me to…what’s the name of this black hole in space again? BareAss Bay?”

  Luke laughed. “Barefoot Bay.”

  “Cute. Shit’s about to get real in Barefoot Bay.”

  “Real what?”

  Gabe slid into a sly smile. “Real…different.”

  Chapter Three

  Gabe hoped to hell Nino was in the office today. That was the only way he’d get through this without a fight. Oh, there’d be a fight, of course. Wherever two or more of his siblings and cousins were gathered, things got loud and arguments broke out and hands were waved. Then Nino, live-in grandfather to the five Rossi kids and great-uncle to Viviana and Zaccaria Angelino, would ply them all with lasagna and tell them to maka nice-nice.

  No one would like his decision, but Gabe knew his cousins, the Italian twin orphans who’d moved in with the family when they were ten, would be thoroughly pissed. Vivi and Zach Angelino had done a masterful job growing their security business into a profitable force to be reckoned with over the past five years, and Gabe had been part of it since almost the beginning.

  Vivi had busted her ass to give Gabe choice assignments, probably sensing that after the life he’d led in the CIA and as a consultant for the government, he kept one foot out the door from the day he’d arrived. Which was true, but not because he was dying to get back into that life.

  But he had been dying to get…somewhere. Barefoot Bay wasn’t “there,” but it was a helluva lot closer than Boston. And he could move around without anyone knowing what he was doing, which was important. And now everything had fallen into place, from the situation in the world to the situation in his business.

  It was time to go.

  Meandering through the crowded streets of Back Bay, Gabe reached the three-story brownstone where the Angelinos had kept their offices ever since Gabe’s dad had handed over the space
after retiring from his law career. As always, Gabe found cause to linger in front of the retail store that filled the first floor, his gaze flickering over the new window displays of push-ups and thongs.

  The high-end lingerie store, Silk, had moved into the space so long ago, it had become a staple on tourist-filled Newbury Street. But before the two old ladies took over with all their girlie delights, the downstairs space had been a musty Army Navy store, also known as heaven to ten-year-old Gabe and his military-loving brothers and cousin.

  There’d been nothing better than coming into town on a Saturday with JP, Marc, and Zach to lose hours in the WWII section, flipping open Swiss Army Knives, trying on cartridge belts, and pretending to drink from canteens. Man, they’d been pissed when Dad came home and announced the space under his offices had been rented by some underwear store.

  But as cool as trench shovels were—and those fuckers were the bomb—by the time Gabe was about thirteen, the appeal of “the panty place,” as Nino had dubbed it, definitely became apparent.

  He opened the door that led to the inside entrance to the brownstone, bypassing Silk to go straight to the ancient staircase that led up to the second-floor offices. About halfway up the stairs, Gabe paused, and just for old time’s sake, he bent over and peered through the five-inch opening that offered a direct view into the back of the lingerie store.

  Shit, he’d probably spent more hours on that step than he’d ever spent digging through the Army Navy store. From his dark perch, he’d watched chicks ooh and aah over strips of satin and lace that he knew would go places…places he wanted to explore. The mystery of why women loved to buy underwear unfolded before him, giving Gabe an unfair advantage when it came to gift-giving. Women loved their barely there satin stuff, and Gabe loved to buy it and remove it, preferably with his teeth.

  Abandoning his pleasant memories, he rounded the top of the landing, and the decor changed as quickly as the lighting. The old-school turn-of-the-century architecture melded into modern, starting with sleek frosted doors with an understated GA etched in the glass. Inside, the Guardian Angelinos offices were humming, with two employees at their desks in the reception area and the door open to the back offices, conference room and, of course, the kitchen, where he hoped to hell Nino was doing his thing.