Training Their Mate(28)
She wasn’t going to let him trick her. “I’ll tell you when we get there.”
He huffed out a breath, but she refused to give in. They rode in silence for the next fifteen minutes. Finally, she couldn’t take his sullenness. “I don’t see why you’re so mad. It’s not like you’re giving me a gun or that I’m insisting on hunting down Couch myself.”
“You got that right.”
“Don’t you ever loosen up?”
“Not when I have a job to do. Couch is highly dangerous. I told you what would happen if the authorities found out about his illegal operations and catch him.”
“Yes, but you’ll catch him first and put in a jail for his kind.”
He shot one more glance at her as he turned on the highway. “You’ve mentioned several times that Couch stole your life. It’s your mom who suffered.”
She’d been waiting for him to connect the dots. “That’s true, but my dad was greatly affected, too. He left us about eighteen years ago after my mother stopped coming out of her room. Eventually, the money ran out for good schools or anything.”
“I’m sorry.”
Only because he sounded sincere, did she drop it. “Take the next right turn.”
Trax nodded. “Couch had an appointment at the shipyard?”
“Yes.”
He pulled out his phone and told his cell to call Kurt. “We’re headed to the docks. We’ll park and then set up surveillance.” He disconnected.
“How are you planning to capture him? Walk up to him and slap on cuffs?”
“Does it matter as long as he’s incarcerated for the rest of his miserable life?”
“No. I just want two minutes with him to see why he came back after all those years.”
Trax didn’t answer.
They entered the shipyard. Several large tankers were in dry dock and a variety of tugs and other commercial boats filled the harbor. Cargo boxes like the type that went on top of a train sat off to the side.
Trax drove around, probably scoping out the place, then went to the far end of the lot near the street and parked. “You should be safe here. It’s in plain view of the road.”
He got out of the car, came over to her side, and pulled open the door. Her pulse spiked. Had he decided she deserved to be the one to pull the trigger? To be honest, now that she understood how hard it was to kill the bastard, she didn’t want to get anywhere near him.
Trax leaned in. “This is for your safety.”
She didn’t understand what that meant until he clasped a handcuff around her wrist and attached the other end to the handle above the door. “Again? Are you serious? I won’t get out of the car. I promise.”
The door slammed shut and her ire ratcheted tenfold. What was wrong with that man? Okay, he could have tortured her into telling him the time, date, and place, but instead he honored her wish regarding her need to see Harvey Couch taken down. Regardless, his attitude rankled.
The five men dispersed and seconds later she was unable to spot any of the men or any other worker for that matter. It was a little before five and there should have been people about cleaning the ships and doing repairs. Right?
She checked the car doors to make sure they were locked even though she’d heard them click closed when he’d pointed the remote. She wished he’d at least let her roll down the window a few inches to let in air. She jangled her wrist, but of course, the cuffs held.
Damn. Now for the interminable wait. If she’d brought her purse, she could have called Chelsea. At least if her friend knew where she was, Liz would have felt better. Not that anything would happen with five super humans running around after one older man, but being out in the open didn’t make her feel all that secure.
With the engine off, the clock wasn’t engaged, and time dragged. She kept her eye on the containers where she thought Couch would meet his contact. Several times, she checked the road to see who might pull in.
After twenty minutes, she gave up trying to find anyone. She’d hoped one of the guys would have gotten on top of the containers and watched from there. She might have kept an eye on him that way.
Trax and the men had to be lying in wait ready to pounce from somewhere. They’d already gone to Couch’s home, so maybe Mrs. Couch had warned her husband that Trax was looking for him. Perhaps the man had decided to lie low and not meet his contact.
A white Mercedes drove past her and her pulse raced. She tried to get a look at who was in the front seat, but the dark tinted windows prevented her. Damn. Hopefully, Trax and his men knew the type of car Couch drove. Goose bumps raced up her arm at the thought of the vile man being near.