by Elle James
“What does it say?” Abby stood on tiptoe, trying to see over his shoulder. “Let me see.”
He held the note out to her. “Don’t touch it. Just read it.”
She frowned. “I can’t. It’s in Spanish.”
He’d forgotten for a moment she didn’t read the language. “It’s from Mariposa. She wants you to meet her. She says she’s safe and can take the baby now.”
Chapter Thirteen
Abby stared at the note, wishing she could read the words for herself. “Does this mean she managed to get away from the people who were holding her prisoner?” she asked. “How did she know where to find me?”
“She didn’t.” Michael tapped the note with his index finger. “This is a fake. A trick to lure you away to a place where it will be easier to kidnap Angelique and get rid of you.”
Her initial excitement over the note faded. Of course he was right. “Mariposa couldn’t have known I was here,” she said.
“Of course not. If she did, why not knock on the door and ask to see her baby right away?”
“I can understand why she wouldn’t do that,” Abby said. “If she’s in the United States illegally, she wouldn’t want to risk running into someone who works for border patrol. I mean, your car is parked out front.”
“Point taken. But I don’t believe she wrote this note,” he said.
“Or she wrote it because someone forced her to,” Abby said. Had El Jefe convinced Mariposa it was safe for her to have her child with her again? “I wish I knew why that man wants the baby.”
“Does it matter?” Michael asked. “Even if it’s because he’s the father and loves her, what kind of life could she have with her mother as a prisoner?”
Abby hugged her arms across her chest, suddenly cold despite the growing warmth from the sun. “What do we do now?” she asked.
“I want to show this note to Graham and the rest of the team,” he said. “Let’s bundle up the baby and go over to headquarters.”
Abby went through the motions of arranging the doll in the sling around her body. “This feels weird,” she said.
“It may feel weird, but it looks real,” he said. “That’s all that counts. Just keep up the charade while we’re outside, in case anyone is watching.”
So she cradled the doll to her and pretended to coo and fuss over it as she walked to the Cruiser and climbed into the passenger seat. Michael started the engine. “Do you really think someone is watching us?” she asked.
“That note tells me they are.” He checked the mirrors, then backed out of his parking spot.
“Then, they know you spent the night in my trailer.”
He glanced at her. “Does that bother you? That other people know we were together?”
“No. But won’t they be suspicious? The Cruiser makes it obvious you’re with the task force, even if they didn’t recognize you before.”
“Just because I’m with the task force doesn’t mean I was on duty last night. We’re allowed to have personal lives. But just in case whoever is spying on us has doubts...” He shifted the Cruiser into Park and leaned across the seat and kissed her.
She let out a small gasp of surprise, then relaxed into him, reaching up one hand to twine her fingers in his hair as he deepened the kiss, his lips firm against her own, tantalizing and once again awakening desire she’d thought long dormant. When at last he broke contact, she stared up at him, a little breathless. “I’d say that was pretty convincing.”
“I wasn’t acting, if you were worried about that,” he said.
“No.” He hadn’t been acting last night, either. The connection between them had been very real—and a little unnerving, if she was being completely honest with herself. She wasn’t sure she was ready to jump into a relationship, especially with a man whose life was so complicated. She’d gotten through the years since her return from the war by keeping her life simple—no ties, no long-term commitments, no lasting obligations to anyone but herself. It was a shallow way to live, but a safe one. Michael was luring her into something much deeper—and scarier.
At ranger headquarters, they found Simon hunched over a computer in the front room. He frowned at the doll Abby unwrapped from the sling. “What are you two up to?” he asked.
“Someone left a suspicious note on Abby’s door last night,” Michael said. “Where’s the G man?”
“I’m here.” Graham emerged from his office. He looked tired, as if he hadn’t slept well. Was he worried about her or Angelique? Abby wondered. Or did some new development in the case trouble him?
“This was taped to the door of Abby’s trailer this morning.” Michael handed Graham the note.
The captain took a pair of reading glasses from his front pocket and slipped them on, then studied the torn scrap of paper. “Do you know who left it?” He looked at Abby. “Did you hear anyone? See anyone?”
“No, sir,” Michael answered, brisk and military.
“No,” Abby echoed, and looked away, focused on rearranging the blankets around the baby doll, as if doing so was an urgent task she could put off no longer. She marveled at Michael’s ability to keep his expression neutral, revealing nothing. For much of the time last night, the two of them had been so focused on each other there could have been a drag race on the road outside her campsite and she wouldn’t have noticed.
“Weren’t Lance and Randall watching the place all night?” Michael asked.
“They were,” Graham said. “If they’d seen anything suspicious, they would have called it in.” He laid the note on the table. “We’ll dust this for prints, though I doubt we’ll come up with anything.”
“We got a match off that bucket that was left behind at the camp,” Simon said.
“Who is it?” Michael asked.
“The woman’s prints didn’t pull up anything, but the man’s belong to Raul Meredes.” Simon turned to Michael. “Ever hear of him?”
Michael shook his head. “No. Who is he?”
“He has ties to the Milenio cartel out of Guadalajara,” Graham said. “He was the chief suspect in the murder of a sheriff’s deputy on the Texas border, but they couldn’t make the charges stick.”
“He’s been operating on both sides of the border for years,” Simon said. “Smuggling drugs and people.”
“I don’t think he wrote this note.” Carmen leaned over Graham’s shoulder and read the note. “The writing looks feminine to me.”
“It does to me, too,” Abby said. “But El Jefe—Meredes—could have forced her to write it. Or another woman might have written it.”
“I don’t suppose you saw any sign of a blonde American woman in the group at those trailers,” Graham said.
“You mean Lauren Starling?” Michael asked. “So she’s still missing.”
“The Denver police are reluctant to call it a missing person. Apparently, she has a history of erratic behavior, and she pulled a disappearing act like this before. But the family is starting to make noise, so they’ve asked us to take a closer look—not that we have anything to go on. The car is clean—no note, map or anything indicating her intentions.”
“I don’t think she was at the camp,” Abby said. “Everyone I saw had dark hair and looked Latino.”
“Just thought I’d ask.” Graham turned his attention back to the note. “What do we do about this?”
“It’s a fake,” Michael said. “Someone is trying to lure Abby and the baby into danger.”
“The baby is safe,” Carmen said. “Whatever we decide to do won’t endanger her.”
“We aren’t going to do anything,” Michael said. “It’s too dangerous.”
Abby froze in the act of tucking a blanket more securely around the doll. The voice was Michael’s, but it could have been her father, telling her she couldn’t join the
army, or men in her unit protesting that she wasn’t capable of leading a patrol, family members saying she couldn’t go away to college, or she shouldn’t study biology, or do research in remote areas. All her life, people had been telling her what she couldn’t do or what she wasn’t capable of. Female or beautiful or wounded had been labels they used against her that only made her want to dig in her heels and prove them wrong.
“We’ve had another new development, which may or may not be related,” Graham said.
Abby stopped fussing with the blanket and turned to face the captain once more. He hadn’t agreed with Michael. In fact, he’d changed the subject.
“What new development?” Michael arched one eyebrow and waited.
“Richard Prentice has blocked a park service road that crosses his land,” Graham said. “It’s a public road that predates the park. It’s the shortest route—the only route, really—to some rare petroglyphs in the canyon. A group from the University of Denver has been studying them off and on for the past two years. This morning, they found barricades blocking the road. Prentice’s lawyers filed an injunction yesterday and a judge ordered the road closed, pending a hearing.”
“Why is he closing the road now, after all this time?” Michael asked.
“Because he can,” Simon said.
“Or because he’s doing something he doesn’t want anyone getting close enough to see,” Lance said.
“Something like what?” Abby asked.
Graham frowned. Maybe he was weighing the wisdom of discussing a task force case with a civilian. Abby wished she’d kept her mouth shut. Now he might send her from the room. “Abby is part of this now,” Carmen said. “And she knows how to keep what we say confidential.”
“Of course,” she agreed, and sent Carmen a grateful look.
Graham nodded. “Sensors we planted on the public road to measure traffic into the park indicate an increase in the number of vehicles turning onto Prentice’s ranch,” he said. “More than we can credit to a few college students on their way to the petroglyphs, or Prentice and his various workers and visitors.”
“Who do you think is going in and out of there?” Michael asked.
“We’ve been doing frequent drive-bys, but we haven’t seen much,” Randall said.
“Prentice complains loudly and long—to the press, to government officials and to anyone else who will listen—that we’re harassing him,” Simon said.
“We’ve tried taking a look from the air, but we haven’t spotted anything suspicious—yet,” Graham said.
“Do you think whatever is going on there has anything to do with Mariposa and Raul Meredes and the illegal workers we saw in the trailers?” Abby asked.
“We just don’t know,” Graham said.
“But those trailers and people had to go somewhere when they left that wash,” Simon said. “Prentice’s ranch makes a convenient place for them to disappear quickly. We can’t find anyone who saw them after they left you two that morning, and once they hit the park road, the tracks disappeared.”
“If I go to this meeting with Mariposa or Meredes or whoever, you can find out more,” Abby said. “You might learn something really useful that would help crack the case.”
“No!” Michael’s protest drowned out whatever Graham had been about to say. Even a stern look from his boss didn’t make him back down. “We shouldn’t endanger a civilian,” he added.
“This is what we wanted all along, isn’t it?” Abby asked. “To lure him into the open so that you can capture him.”
“It’s too risky,” Michael said. “Our original plan was to lure him here, where we have more control over everything. If you move into his territory, the control shifts to him.”
Was he so worried about control over the outcome of this plan—or control over her? She tried to tell herself Michael wasn’t like that, but her past experiences with the men in her life told her otherwise. After all, how well did she really know this man? He’d first made a claim on her because he’d saved her life. In the golden afterglow of lovemaking, had she misinterpreted an unhealthy obsession for love?
She forced herself to look directly at him, to try to read the true emotion in his dark eyes. But she found only stubbornness. “I’m not helpless,” she said. “I’ve been in dangerous situations before. Much more dangerous. I’m trained to look after myself.”
“You don’t have an army behind you this time,” he said. “Don’t confuse foolishness with bravery.”
The words stung like a slap. “You don’t have a right to tell me what to do!” she protested.
“Abby’s right.” Graham stepped between them. “This could be the break we’ve been looking for. If we can get to Meredes, he could lead us to the person behind this whole operation.”
“We might find a link between him and Prentice,” Simon said.
“This might help save Mariposa and a lot of other innocent people,” Abby said. “How could I not do it?”
“We’ll set up the meeting for a neutral place,” Graham said. “And we’ll have plenty of our people watching, on guard if Meredes tries to pull anything.”
“If you try to take him there, he’s liable to use Abby as a hostage,” Michael said.
“If we can’t get to him without endangering her, we’ll follow him after he leaves,” Graham said.
“I want to do this,” Abby said. “I want to help these people.”
“I still don’t think—”
But she didn’t get to hear what he did or didn’t think. Graham’s phone rang, the old-fashioned clanging silencing them all. “Captain Ellison,” he answered. He stood up straighter, shoulders tensed, expression alert. “Where?...How many?...We’ll be right there.”
He ended the call. “That was Randall. He and Marco think they’ve found the trailers from the camp, or at least some of them.”
“Where?” Simon was the first to speak.
“Are there any people in them?” Carmen asked.
Graham turned to the map on the wall behind him. He studied it for a moment, then pointed to a spot on the edge of the parkland. “There’s a wash through here. The trailers are there.”
Michael joined Graham in front of the map. “That’s on the very edge of Richard Prentice’s ranch,” he said, pointing to the white area marked Private Property on the map.
“And they almost certainly crossed Prentice’s land on that road he closed in order to get there,” Simon said.
“How did Randall and Marco get there?” Carmen asked.
“They hitched a ride on a BLM chopper,” Graham said. “Someone who owed Randall a favor.”
“The bigger question is, how are we going to get there?” Michael asked. “Prentice still has the road closed.”
“Then we’ll have to persuade him to open it.” Graham fished car keys from his pocket. “Let’s go. Michael, you’d better stay here with Abby.”
“I’ll come with you,” Abby said.
“I can’t let you do that,” Graham said.
“You need Michael with you, and you can’t leave me here unguarded as long as Meredes is looking for me and the baby. Instead of sacrificing one man to babysit me, let me come along. I promise to stay in the vehicle, out of your way.” She hesitated, then added, “Please. I need to know if Mariposa is there—if she’s safe.”
Graham glanced at Michael, then back to Abby. “You can come, but you’re to stay well away from the action. Ride with Simon.”
“Thank you,” she said.
“She can ride with me,” Michael said.
“No. I need you focused on the job, not her,” Graham said. “Carmen will ride with you. Now let’s get going.”
Abby tried to arrange the baby doll more comfortably in the sling as the others gathered their gear and prepared to head out. Michael
approached her. “I just want to talk to you for a minute,” he said in response to her wary look. He pulled her to a corner of the room, away from the others.
“I know what I’m getting into,” she said. “I don’t need you to protect me.”
“I’m not saying you’re not smart and capable,” he said. “I know you are. But I just found you.” He stared into her eyes, pleading. “I don’t want to lose you.”
“This isn’t about you. Or me. It’s about doing what’s right.” She eased from his grasp. “If the captain thinks I can help by agreeing to meet with Meredes, then I have to do it.”
Instead of telling her that he didn’t like it but he understood—words she wanted, even needed, to hear from him—he turned away. He retreated to the other side of the room, arms folded over his chest, expression sullen.
She struggled to compose herself, to face the others as a strong, determined woman, not letting them see her heartbreak. One night and a few kisses didn’t mean Michael had a claim on her, though the pain in her chest as she thought this warned her he might have already staked out a territory she didn’t want to relinquish.
Chapter Fourteen
“You hold on to that steering wheel any tighter it’s going to come off in your hands. Might make driving awkward.”
Carmen spoke lightly, making the words a joke, but when Michael glanced over at his coworker in the Cruiser’s passenger seat, she was studying him intently. “You need to relax,” she said. “An overbearing attitude isn’t going to go over well with a woman like Abby.”
He glanced in the mirror at the car behind him, which contained Abby and Simon, but the glare of the sun on the tinted windshield made it impossible to see into the vehicle.
“Leave her alone for a while,” Carmen said. “Give her some space and she’ll come around.”
“What do you know about it?” he asked, annoyed. “Were you eavesdropping?”
“I didn’t have to hear a word to know she was upset. Her body language when you ordered her to stand down told the whole story. She wanted you to back her up on this and instead, you tried to shut her down.” She shook her head. “Wrong move.”
