by Lisa Jackson
“Now would be better than later.” Steel coated the words barely softened by a slight smile.
She glanced up, conscious of the difference between her diminutive height and his six-foot-five frame. To appear a bit more intimidating, she tilted her chin and raised a brow as if staring at a tardy student. “I don’t imagine you as a student of ancient languages.”
Amusement danced in his gray eyes at her attempt to claim command of a situation he’d owned before he’d uttered the first word. “You’d be surprised what interests me, ma’am.”
“Are you trying to be clever?”
“Wouldn’t know how to be clever if I tried.”
False modesty didn’t ring true. “What do you want?”
“Got a research question for you.”
“Regarding?” He wasn’t the relaxed man with the easy smile she’d met in Mexico. This man was harder, tougher, the kind of man who didn’t seek out anyone without an express purpose.
He glanced from side to side and dropped his voice a notch so that only she could hear. “I’m not here to interfere in your personal life. I’m working on a drug case. It’s the same case that took me to Merida. A drug dealer has developed a code that’s been used to communicate information about an upcoming shipment, and no one can break it.”
She drew cool air deep into her lungs. “And you want me to break the code?”
“I’d have asked you in Mexico if you’d let me get to know you better. I figured we’d talk more at breakfast.”
Color warmed her cheeks. “Breakfast.”
“You vanished into the jungle until a few days ago. I never forgot you, and it’s taken me this long to track you. Like I said, you are a hard woman to find.”
Chapter 2
Friday, December 19, 7:40 P.M.
Lucas had hunted down Marisa. He’d tracked her to Mexico and now here. She wasn’t sure if she was upset or pleased. “I see.”
“No one has figured the code out so far. It’s made up of dots and dashes and pictures. We think perhaps Mayan or Aztec, but no one can read it.”
“There are glyphs?”
“Say again?”
She unzipped the folds of her jacket to show him her T-shirt. “Like this?”
His gaze dropped, lingered. “I suppose so.”
She zipped up her jacket. “Why didn’t you talk to the folks here at the university? I’m not the only one who could have figured this out.”
His gaze met hers. “We had Rangers interview the professors here. None could help us out.”
Despite the situation’s awkwardness and the ticking toy clock, her interest flickered. “Do you have it with you?”
“I have all the pieces and parts back at Ranger headquarters.”
“Is this time sensitive? Can I look at it tomorrow?”
“We don’t have much time, now. Days maybe. Now would be best.”
The front door to the building opened, and a woman’s laugh drew their attention to a couple—her ex-boyfriend and his new girlfriend, a tall blonde dressed in a silk dress and fur jacket. Awesome. Marisa had Ranger-from-the-Past and Bradley and Jennifer to contend with at once. Awesome. And thirty-eight minutes until the toy store closed.
“Marisa,” Bradley called from the top of the stairs.
She watched as Bradley’s girlfriend whispered in his ear, and he nodded. Her frown suggested she clearly did not want to meet Marisa any more than Marisa wanted to meet her. The power duo descended the stairs, both all smiles.
When they approached, Marisa straightened her spine just a fraction and tried not to focus on her lack of makeup or her faded jeans. How many times had her dad told her to lose the homeless look and dress like a professional? “Bradley.”
“We missed you at the party. Mrs. Lorraine was looking for you. She had lots of ideas for the spring semester programs.”
Mrs. Lorraine was a sixth-generation Texan and a large donor. The last time she and Marisa had talked, she’d wanted Marisa to include more Texas history in her curriculum. When Marisa tried to explain she taught Mayan history, Mrs. Lorraine had said she didn’t really care about any history other than Texas history. “Right.”
Bradley’s mouth twitched. “There’s a lot of buzz about your work. Had some alumni at the party who wanted to meet you. Your kind of find could mean lots of donations.”
“I don’t have concrete information yet.” Aware of Ranger Cooper’s gray gaze assessing every move, she itched to be gone.
“Who’s your friend?” Bradley asked.
Marisa swallowed. “Bradley and . . . Jennifer, I’d like you to meet Texas Ranger Lucas Cooper.”
Lucas took Bradley’s hand in his, and she savored a moment’s satisfaction when Lucas squeezed the professor’s hand a bit too hard. “Didn’t catch the last name.”
“Rogers.” Bradley pulled back his hand. He had enough pride at least not to grimace or shake the cramp from his hand. “Marisa, Jennifer and I were hoping you could join us for drinks. She was just telling me how fascinated she is with your work on ancient languages.”
Jennifer smiled and nodded. “We’d love to have you.”
As obtuse as Marisa could be about reading body language, she realized Jennifer’s flat smile and distracted gaze telegraphed total disinterest. “I can’t.”
“Give me one reason why you won’t join us, Marisa.” Irritation had crept into Bradley’s voice. So far her work had kept her job safe in the department, but she didn’t have tenure yet and he’d been hinting about budget cuts. She might be sitting on the breakthrough of the century or nothing. “You can’t hide from Christmas for the rest of your life.”
“Not the rest of my life,” she said. “Just six more days.”
“She was like that when we dated,” Bradley said to Lucas. “Hated the holidays. Always a sore point with us.”
Embarrassment mingled with anger. She was not going to have a blow-by-blow of her failed relationship in front of a man she’d slept with and abandoned. “No one’s interested in our history. Now, if you all will excuse me.”
Bradley’s smile vanished, and he looked as if to block her path. Lucas shifted his stance just a little closer to Marisa as if making a claim. “She’s got a real tight schedule. Just time for me this evening.”
Bradley didn’t hide his shock. “You have a date?”
Marisa enjoyed his shock too much to correct him. “We do.”
When they’d dated, she’d never said no when he’d asked for her help, whether it was interpreting some of his work or covering his classes. However, her patience had been stripped away. “Girls have fun once in a while.”
Bradley frowned. “You owe the department an appearance with the alumni party. I’m tired of covering for you.”
“Then don’t.”
Bradley’s BlackBerry buzzed, distracting him from his comeback.
Lucas took the opening and moved a fraction closer to Marisa. “We really have to get going. Have a nice evening.”
“You aren’t coming?”
“No,” Marisa said, grateful Lucas had the sense not to answer for her.
Bradley glanced at Lucas, who stood tall, an immoveable wall of muscle and determination. Frowning, Bradley cut his losses, took Jennifer by the elbow, and said his good-byes.
As the duo left, gratitude jostled Marisa past embarrassment. “Thank you.”
Lucas’s gaze lingered on Bradley, much like a wolf stalked prey. “You aren’t comfortable around the guy.”
“It’s not that. I just don’t have the reserves to deal with him tonight.” She glanced at her watch. Twenty-nine minutes. She’d never make it to the store in time. “And like I said, toys for my brothers. The shopkeeper is closing up tonight and won’t reopen until after the holidays.”
“What’s the address?”
“It’s on North Highway. I’m not going to make it.”
“I know the place. I can get you there.”
“You?”
“Yeah, but
you are going to owe me. Toys first. Code second.” Not a question. A done deal.
“Sure, why not.” The puzzle was a reason to avoid her empty home and the boxes crammed with memories. “But this is just about the code.”
A staggering power radiated behind those gray eyes. “Sure.”
Stubbornness had her wrestling for the control that remained out of reach. “As soon as I get those toy trucks.”
“Best if I drive. And I’m parked right out front. We’ll get there faster. Wait right here.”
“Sure.” The chill cut through her jacket as she moved toward the SUV. Lucas opened her door, and she slid inside. As he crossed in front of the truck, he pulled his phone from his jacket and spoke quickly before ending the call. He tossed his hat in the backseat and slid behind the wheel. He smelled of fresh air and the faintest hint of soap, scents that had clung to her skin as she’d driven back to the jungle alone.
He put the car in gear and flipped on the lights. “Hold on.” When he gunned the engine, she grabbed hold of the door. He wove in and out of the streets as if he’d lived in the area all his life. Soon they were headed north.
On any given day she loved the silence, but now it weighed heavy and awkward.
Lucas broke it with, “How did your dig go in Mexico?”
“You’ve been asking around about me?”
“For months. No one in Mexico could quite figure out where you were in the jungle.”
“That’s the idea. Keep the dig location a secret.” She folded her arms. “You never mentioned you were looking for me in Merida.”
“I was looking for Dr. M. E. Thompson. Not a woman wearing a white dress in a café.”
Her cheeks warmed. “Did you know who I was in the café?”
“No. Like I said, you didn’t look like a professor of ancient languages. And you never mentioned your work at dinner.”
“Too many people think the Mayan ruins are stocked with gold. I didn’t need any unnecessary trouble.” She glared at him.
“You thought I was trouble?”
No. Not then. “You never know who’s listening.” She tilted her chin up. “And what does a professor of ancient languages look like?”
He tossed her a look. “That was a compliment.”
She’d heard enough about the stereotypes to know what he must have imagined when he’d gone looking for her. “When did you put the pieces together?”
“After you left.”
“Not much of a detective.”
He tightened his grip on the wheel. “I found you, didn’t I?”
She dropped her head back against the seat. Could this Christmas season get any worse?
She didn’t know what to say, so she kept silent. Lights from cars and buildings whisked past.
“Word is, you have a major find on your hands,” he said.
No one wanted the blow-by-blow of her findings. Too many times, she witnessed eyes glazing over after she launched into a detailed description. “Bits and pieces. I’m hoping to string it into something worthwhile.”
Ahead, she spotted the lights of the toy store sign, and soon he’d parked in front. Inside, she saw the clerk waiting, two bags on the counter.
“I’ll be right back,” she said.
“I’ll be waiting.”
Disregarding the meaning humming under his words, she dashed into the store. Bells jingled over her head as she hurried through the door. She glanced at the clock, fishing her wallet out of her purse. One minute past closing time. “You waited for me.”
The older man, eyes heavy with fatigue, shook his head. “Ranger said to wait.”
“A Ranger called you?” She pulled out her credit card and handed it to him.
He swiped it. “Said not to close and to wait.” He looked past her to the dark SUV. “He sounded insistent, so I figured it was best to wait.”
She pocketed her card and the receipt. Normally, she’d have argued. Taking any kind of favor led to dependency and that led to heartache. But tonight she was too grateful to complain. “Thanks.”
“Merry Christmas.”
“Same to you.”
She wrestled the heavy bags from the counter and moved to the front door. Lucas got out of the SUV and opened the door for her. Without asking, he took the bags from her and placed them in the backseat.
“Thanks.”
“Glad to help.”
She slid back into her seat, and he settled behind the wheel and drove. “So tell me about this code.”
“Not much I can tell you. Experts can’t crack it. They thought if they could create a key, they could translate the symbols. But no one can figure out the key.”
Silver bracelets jangled on her wrist as she ran her fingers through her hair. “Well, ancient languages are what I do best.”
“Exactly what I’ve heard.”
“Show me what you have and I’ll take my best shot.”
“Great.”
They arrived at Ranger headquarters minutes later and Marisa followed Lucas past security. He led her to his locked office, flipped on the lights, and moved to a small conference table where a stack of papers rested. “These are the coded messages we have. Feel free to have a look. If you don’t mind, I’m going to order pizza. Haven’t eaten much today.”
Her stomach grumbled. “I’ll go halves with you on the pizza. I’m starving.”
His powerful gaze reflected a mixture of humor and deadly intent. “You crack that code, and I will buy you all the pizza you can eat.”
“Deal.”
Her mind shifting from him to the papers, she quickly found herself pulled into the documents and the swirl of symbols. To the untrained eye it was chaos. To her, it was heaven.
Lucas met the pizza delivery guy at the front desk, and when he returned to his office he found Marisa exactly where he’d left her, frowning over the ciphers, oblivious to him and the world around her.
A fellow Ranger, Brody Winchester, had a smart wife, Dr. Jo Granger, who’d put Lucas on to Dr. M. E. Thompson a couple of months ago when the first coded messages had appeared. Lucas considered Jo one hell of a smart woman, and when she’d commented that Dr. Thompson was another level of smart, he’d known she was in the big leagues.
After learning Dr. Thompson was in Mexico on a dig, he’d gone to Merida, Mexico, to ask around the university. He had learned she was a bookish, odd woman who lived for her dead languages. A dull sort, one professor had said, but the best in her field. She was expected in town to replenish supplies, but no one knew exactly when she’d appear.
When he’d arrived at that sidewalk café, he’d been looking for good grub, a cold beer, and a chance to recharge after forty-seven hours of nonstop work while he waited for Dr. M. E. Thompson.
When he’d spotted the woman in the white dress, rational thought vanished, and when she’d smiled at him and teased him about the Texas seeping through his Spanish, he’d been lost. The ensuing conversation, dinner, drinks, and sex had momentarily banished thoughts of work. That night had been all about the woman in the white dress. And then she’d vanished.
He’d asked around and discovered the woman in the white dress was Dr. Thompson. He’d called himself every form of dumbass before deciding that finding her would be easy. However, he’d not counted on the jungle or that it would swallow her trail so completely.
Hours ago, when he’d received word she’d returned to Austin from her jungle dig, he’d dropped what he was doing and come straight to the university. There was a code still to be cracked and if he were honest, one night with Marisa had not been quite enough.
How many times since had he dreamed about her in that white dress? Hell, even now he thought her glasses accentuated rather than hid bright green expressive eyes and a high slash of cheekbones. And the frown grooved in her forehead added to her allure.
“Pizza,” he said.
She glanced up from the pages, her eyes a bit vacant and lost. He could almost hear the gears in her brain shifting and
grinding as she refocused on the world outside her scroll. “Great. I’m starving.”
As she cleared away her papers and stacked them neatly, he set the pizza box on the table along with a bag stuffed with napkins and drinks. “I wasn’t sure if you liked soda. There’s water in the cooler if that’s what you prefer.”
“Soda’s great.” She rolled up her sleeves and placed napkins in front of him and herself. He flipped open the box and the scents of pepperoni, mushroom, and onion drifted around them. She took a piece of pizza and laid it on her napkin. “I haven’t had pizza in ages.”
He sat and rolled up his sleeves, exposing forearms dusted with dark hair. “It’s a mainstay for me.”
She took a bite and glanced toward the papers to her right. “It’s an ancient language. I’m fairly sure it’s Mayan. It might take me a couple of days, but I can figure it out.”
“A couple of days?” No hiding his surprise.
“Shouldn’t be that hard.”
He laughed. “Don’t tell the forensics team.”
“They shouldn’t feel bad. Unless you study this all the time, you wouldn’t have a clue.”
“I’ll be sure to pass it on.” Already, he pictured the team’s frustration when he told them Marisa had dubbed the task easy. They’d endured many sleepless nights trying to figure out what the dealers were communicating to each other.
“So what exactly am I looking for?”
“There is word of a major shipment arriving from Mexico into the area. It’s a new supplier trying to make a name for himself, and we want to stop him before he gets established.”
“When’s it expected?”
“We’ve heard around Christmas Day but don’t know exactly where or when.”
“Time is running out.” She plucked the cheese off the pizza and ate it. “I’ll work fast.”
“Thanks.” He sipped his soda, unable to rein in his curiosity.
