Hidden Prey

by Cheyenne McCray

  “You’re a busy lady.” He watched her chew then swallow the pasta. “Where did you go to school?”

  Before answering, she patted her mouth with a paper towel he’d folded into a square to use as a napkin. “My B.M. in jazz performance and my M.M. in clarinet performance were from Arizona State.” She brushed a stray hair away from her face. “Indiana University is where I received my D.M. in woodwind pedagogy with a history minor and a higher education administration minor.”

  The corner of his mouth tipped. “So I should be calling you Dr. Cox.”

  She waved him away with a smile. “Don’t you dare.”

  He took a bite of spaghetti, chewed, and swallowed. “I saw your tattoo. Not something I would expect to see on a doctor.”

  “Klarinette is the German spelling.” She shrugged. “When I had the tat done in college, it was in vogue to tattoo the name of your instrument with the original spelling from the country that supposedly invented it. I wanted a tattoo, so that’s what I did.” She set her fork on her plate. “What about you?”

  He gave her a little smile. “No tats.”

  She returned his smile. “I meant your education and your career.”

  “My B.S. in criminal justice is from the University of Arizona.” He twirled his fork in his spaghetti. “I worked for the DEA prior to DHS and ICE.”

  She studied him. “You must have an exciting job.”

  He turned over her statement in his thoughts. “You could say there are very few dull moments.” He wanted the attention off himself and on her. “Do you have family other than your parents?”

  “Cousins, aunts, and uncles.” She played with her fork and pasta. “They all live in other states and have big families with lots of children, unlike my parents and me.”

  “No brothers or sisters, I take it?” Landon asked.

  “Only one brother.” Tori’s face fell. “Brian was addicted to crack. Two years ago, a law enforcement agent killed him during a raid at a house where he bought drugs.” She met Landon’s gaze and looked as if she struggled to hold back tears. “Ironically, a DHS agent saved me. He was killed by one.”

  Landon went still. No, it can’t be. His thoughts churned over the night he and his team had raided a crack house. Ballistics had matched his gun to the bullet that had killed a drug dealer. One who worked for the Jimenez Cartel.

  A small-time drug dealer named Brian Cox.

  Shit.

  He clenched his jaw. With what she’d been through today, Tori was fragile. He didn’t think it would help anything if he told her he’d been the one who had killed her brother.

  God damn it.

  He’d explain what had happened to her another time. Or maybe they’d part company and he’d never have to tell her at all.

  He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry you lost someone close to you.”

  She touched the corners of her eyes with her napkin. “We were close before he got strung-out on crack. His addiction to the drug and the lifestyle broke my mom’s heart, not to mention mine.”

  She sighed, then continued. “A couple of times he went into rehab and I’d get my brother back. I’m sure you’ve heard stories like that before.” A tear rolled down her cheek and she wiped it away with the napkin. “Then I’d lose him all over again. Now there’s no chance of getting him back at all.”

  Landon said nothing and just let her talk.

  “The DHS agents who talked with my parents said he dealt drugs for the Jimenez Cartel. We couldn’t believe it.” Tori’s face looked strained. “I researched that organization on the Internet. I still have a hard time believing Brian would have anything to do with a cartel. Ever.” A wash of anger made her features tighten. “Those bastards should pay for destroying people’s lives.”

  Landon knew Brian had dealt drugs for the Jimenez Cartel. Landon didn’t mention the same cartel was likely responsible for Miguel’s death. He didn’t want to do anything that might influence her when she studied photos tomorrow.

  Tori looked as if she attempted to compose herself. “So what about you? Any family around? Other than your grandmother?”

  “I don’t have a lot of relatives.” He was grateful for each of the members of his family he did have. “In my immediate family, I have three sisters who are scattered around the state and my parents still live on the ranch where we grew up.”

  “Oldest or youngest?” she asked.

  He swallowed the last of his water. “I’m the oldest.”

  Tori had a cute, quirky smile when he could turn her thoughts away from the horror of the day. “So you spent your time championing your sisters.”

  He thought about all the guys he’d chased off that his sisters hadn’t even known about. “It took some work.”

  Tori rested her elbow on the table, her chin in her hand. It was as though her thoughts had carried her far away. “Brian was two years older than me. While we were growing up, I idolized him. Everything he did, I wanted to do too.” She sighed and returned her gaze to Landon’s. “It crushed me when he got into drugs and fell in with the wrong people. Watching him self-destruct caused my parents and me a lot of pain. I always had hope he’d come back to us.”

  She pushed her fingers through her hair. “You grew up in the valley?” she asked. “Did you go to Valley Union High School in Elfrida, or Bisbee High?”

  “Valley Union.” He leaned back in his chair. “All of thirty kids in my graduating class.”

  “I didn’t realize VUHS had so few students.” She seemed surprised. “BHS isn’t quite as small, but we only had a hundred-sixty students in my graduating class.”

  It turned out they were only a year apart in age, but likely would never have run into each other considering the geographical distance between their schools.

  As they talked, Landon felt an attraction to Tori so deep it shook him down to his toes. He found himself wanting to run his hands over her soft skin, brush her silky hair away from her cheek, and kiss his way from her ear to the hollow of her throat. He hadn’t felt this kind of attraction to a woman since—

  A pang of guilt stabbed him in the gut like a hot iron rod. He swallowed and reined in his thoughts. Even though Stacy had been gone for over a year, he’d had no intention of looking at another woman. Not to mention he needed to protect Tori, not think of all the ways he’d enjoy peeling off her clothes.

  He rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, trying to get his head on straight.

  “You’re tired.” Tori’s soft voice brought his attention back to her. “I think it’s bedtime for both of us.”

  “I’ll show you to your room.” He got up from his chair.

  Tori stood. “First, I’ll help you clean up.”

  He almost told her he’d take care of it, but she had a determined expression that told him she wouldn’t listen. It didn’t take long to put away the leftovers and clean the few dishes and stockpot.

  When they were finished, he gestured toward the hall leading to the bedrooms. “There should be new toothbrushes and toothpaste in the bathroom along with clean washcloths and towels.”

  He gestured to the first door on the right. “This will be your room. You’ll need to keep the door open.” When she raised her eyebrows, he went on, “It’s one of the rules we have when you’re in protective custody.”

  She looked over the room’s simple furnishings, including the full bed in the center, before she glanced at him. “Thank you for everything.”

  “Not a problem.” He stepped away as she walked into the room. “I’ll be right back.”

  In a few moments, he returned with a clean extra T-shirt he’d kept in his Explorer and now gave it to her.

  Just as he backed up to leave, she raised herself on her toes and pressed her lips to his cheek, giving him a chaste kiss. “Thank you.” She offered a tired smile and pushed the door behind him, leaving it open by a couple of inches.

  Landon stood in the hallway for a moment, his thoughts wrapped around Tori
.

  With a frustrated growl, he turned and headed toward the bedroom he’d be taking in between shifts with O’Donnell and Johnson.

  It had been so long since he’d been with a woman. It had to be why he found himself wanting Tori so damned badly.

  His mind rejected the thought almost at once. Her spirit and intelligence attracted him even more than her body did.

  He heaved out a heavy breath as he reached the master bedroom. He had to be exceptionally tired because he thought of Tori lying and waiting for him on his bed when he looked at it.

  Shit. He left the door partially open before going into his bedroom’s attached bathroom and stripping off his clothing. He needed a cold shower, for a much different reason than the cold shower he’d taken that morning.

  Chapter 6

  Gregory Smith tightened his grip on the handle of his briefcase as he strode up the sidewalk past two-story town houses toward the one he shared with Tori. The streetlights illuminated the sidewalk as well as the manicured lawns and landscaping.

  What a fucked-up day. He’d been late to work at the law office and had almost missed an important client. Finally getting a free moment, he’d taken his lunch break at home late in the afternoon because he’d had to pick up a client’s file he’d forgotten there.

  Tori had left him—he’d discovered the note she had placed on the table in the kitchen. He’d gone through their home to find she’d packed up her toiletries and some of her clothes. Her laptop and her favorite clarinet were at the front door, though, so he knew she’d be back. He’d tried calling her cell phone but she hadn’t answered.

  Once he’d returned to his office, on the opposite side of Tucson from where he and Tori lived, he’d realized in his haste he’d left his damned cell phone at the town house. He’d sent his intern, Sara, to pick it up, but she had never returned to the office. He’d told Sara where he kept the key hidden and she should have been back within an hour. Two hours had passed since then. Maybe she’d had something come up, but she would have called in. Hell, he fucked the twenty-year-old on a regular basis and she had a serious case of hero-worship that didn’t hurt his ego one bit.

  The tracker he’d put on Tori’s phone indicated she had gone to Bisbee. He fisted one hand, thinking of her running home to Mommy and Daddy. While at work, he’d used one of the office phones to call Tori and had reached her, only to have her hang up on him. He’d tried calling back but his calls had gone straight to voicemail.

  Gregory ground his teeth as he reached the front door of the town house and his thoughts remained on Tori. Who the hell did she think she was? He’d go get her and drag her ass back to Tucson where she belonged. He’d been to her parents’ home once and he could probably find the house again. Tori’s worthless drunk of a father and her bitch of a mother had barely talked to him. Josie had just watched him with assessing eyes that made him want to snarl at her. He’d had to fight to maintain control and play the loving boyfriend.

  No doubt about it, he did love Tori. He expected her to do as he said and to be where he expected her to be. She belonged to him. No one else could touch her.

  His love for Tori bordered on obsession. Hell, it was obsession. Maybe he shouldn’t be fucking his intern, but he had extraordinary needs and Tori couldn’t give him everything he needed. As long as she knew her place was with him, he had no complaints.

  Clenching his teeth, he dug in his pocket for his keys. They jangled as he pulled them out then slipped from his hand and hit the welcome mat on the doorstep. Cursing beneath his breath, he crouched and scooped them up. He hesitated in the crouch for a moment then checked beneath one of the flowerpots near the mat. No key. Sara must have been here, so where the hell had she gone? Maybe they’d passed each other on his drive home. Then why hadn’t she put the key back?

  With a frown he straightened, got to his feet, and tried the knob without attempting to disengage the bolt or unlock it first. It turned easily in his hand and the door swung open.

  What the hell?

  Tori always left the light in the foyer on, but now all remained dark. She had a thing about coming home to an entirely dark house. It made her uneasy. He flipped on the light by the door then shut it behind him, setting his briefcase next to her clarinet case and briefcase.

  He stuffed his keys back into his pocket and started undoing his tie when he realized a lump was lying at the foot of the stairs.

  He dropped his hands to his sides. His stomach churned.

  A woman’s body, limbs at unnatural angles, white-blonde hair covering her face.

  “Sara?” His voice shook as he hurried toward her. Had she fallen down the stairs?

  He pushed her hair away from her face. He reeled at the sight of her purple face and her eyes widened with terror. In his horror he noticed her neck and the dark band around it—she’d been strangled.

  Murdered. Sara had been murdered.

  “Oh, God.” His hands shook and he heard his cell phone, the ring coming from the kitchen where he must have left the phone.

  He needed to call 9-1-1.

  What if the killer hadn’t left?

  Could he take the chance of going into the kitchen to get to his phone? No, he had to get out of the town house. He’d go to a neighbor’s and use their phone.

  He pushed himself to his feet and started to turn when he heard a click and felt something cold pressed against the back of his head.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” came a hard voice with a Hispanic accent.

  “You can have everything you want.” Gregory spoke in a rush. “I have money in a safe. You can have it. Just let me go.”

  “A safe. I like the sound of that.” The amused voice moved close to his ear. “But we have more important things to discuss.”

  “What?” Confusion clouded Gregory’s mind.

  With the barrel of the gun still against Gregory’s head, a man stepped into Gregory’s line of sight. The man’s slender and wiry build made him look as if he could spring into action at any moment. His slim mustache twitched as though he was holding back a smile.

  In the background, Gregory’s phone rang again.

  “Where is Tori Cox?” the man asked.

  “Tori?” Gregory couldn’t pull his thoughts together. “She’s not here. Why do you want her?”

  “My reasons are not important to you,” the man snarled. “If you want to live, you will tell me where she is.”

  Gregory realized two things. First, this man would kill him no matter what he’d said. Second, the man planned to kill Tori. Gregory had no idea what kind of trouble she had gotten herself into, but apparently it was bad. Real bad.

  Despite any problems they’d had, Gregory loved Tori. He refused to give up anything. Besides, if he did, this man would immediately kill him.

  “I’m not sure where Tori is,” Gregory’s voice shook. “She took off this morning.”

  “I can tell you she is in Bisbee.” The man smirked. “I just need an address.”

  How did the bastard know? Gregory swallowed. “I don’t have an address for anyone in Bisbee.”

  The man kept the barrel of his gun against Gregory’s head. He looked toward the living room and said something in Spanish. Gregory’s blood went cold when a second man walked out of the darkened room. The blond man had a brutal sheen to him, his eyes cold and merciless.

  “That is John.” The first man gestured to the other man. “I am Pablo. You and I are going to become very familiar with each other.”

  Gregory said nothing. Sweat trickled down his spine, sweat soaking his armpits beneath his suit jacket.

  “We must leave this place.” Pablo gave a nod in the direction of the kitchen as Gregory’s phone rang. “Bring your phone so we can use it to call Señorita Tori.”

  Gregory swallowed, his throat so dry it hurt. If he stalled, maybe the police would come in time.

  “Get the phone,” Pablo told John.

  John said nothing but headed toward the kitchen.


  Pablo turned to Gregory. “Give me your keys.”

  Hands shaking, Gregory reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys then handed them to Pablo.

  When John returned, he gave the phone to Pablo who pocketed it.

  Pablo looked at Gregory then nodded to Sara’s body. “Pick her up. You will carry her to your car and we will put her in the trunk.”

  Gregory knelt and scooped up Sara’s petite form and held her. He dry-heaved when he felt her cold body. Bile rose in his throat. He turned his head to the side and spewed vomit on the floor. He coughed and spit the acidic remnants out of his mouth but could still taste it.

  A boot kicked him low in the back and he cried out, almost dropping Sara’s body. He wiped his mouth on his upper arm before standing, cradling her to his chest.

  Pablo inclined his head in the direction of the door and Gregory started toward it.

  John reached the door first and pulled it open. The warm summer night washed over Gregory and he wanted to cry out for help, but he felt the press of the barrel against his spine. Maybe someone would see them and call the police.

  They passed no one on the way to the lot where Gregory always parked his Audi. Pablo ordered Gregory to go to his car and he obeyed.

  When they reached the Audi, Pablo used the key fob to open the doors and pop the trunk. Gregory’s heart and gut were sinking fast as he laid Sara’s body inside. Pablo slammed the lid closed.

  “Drive.” Pablo gave the order to Gregory, who slid behind the wheel on the driver’s side. John pointed a handgun at Gregory while Pablo got in on the passenger side. After Pablo slipped in, he handed the keys to Gregory. Pablo pointed his gun at Gregory again while John left and climbed into a dark vehicle Gregory hadn’t noticed before.

  Gregory’s mind raced, trying to think of some way he could get out of this alive and not give these bastards Tori’s parents’ address. She belonged to him and no one else could touch her. His blood rushed through his veins like wildfire and his heart beat hard enough to explode out of his chest. Maybe having his heart give out would be for the best, because one way or another he would die if he didn’t think of something.