Fatal Charm

by Aimée Thurlo

  “Tell Ramos not to try to match wits with us again. It’s pointless. We know how he thinks.”

  “Is that all?” Amanda said coldly. Betraying fear to people like this was like inviting them to use it against her.

  “Tell Ramos we want the names of all the agents and informers involved in the Gage forgery investigation. Tell him to use his own network of informants if he can’t access the information from the Bureau directly. And as payback for his little games at the mall, we want this in two days. We’ll give you a time and a place later. You might remind him that we are now in possession not only of information about his daughter’s whereabouts, but of a Bureau file he stole, as well. We won’t hesitate to send a copy to the newspapers and credit him with the theft. If he’s in jail, he’ll have a hard time finding his kid or us. You might keep that in mind since it concerns you, as well.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  The electronically distorted laugh sent a chill up her spine. “By delivering the file, you’re an accomplice to his crime. I wonder where your daughter will stay while her mommy’s in prison?”

  Amanda stiffened as if ice water had suddenly been poured down her back. “I’ve done what you want. You have no need to threaten me.”

  “Just remember, we have several ways of insuring that you’ll lose your daughter for good.”

  “You’ve made your threats abundantly clear,” Amanda snapped. She heard more distorted laughter and then, abruptly, the dial tone.

  “What on earth did they say to you?” Bernice came around her desk and placed a hand on Amanda’s shoulder. “You’re as white as a sheet.”

  “I don’t think I should tell you this. I’d be placing you in jeopardy, legal and otherwise.” Amanda shook her head, seeing Bernice start to protest. “All I can tell you is that they’ve threatened to use Tony to start a chain of events to insure that Hope will be taken from me.”

  “Amanda, think it through. Nobody could do that. Public sentiment would be on your side if all this came out.”

  “But look at what they’ve done already. The callers knew Hope was adopted, even though I’ve kept it a secret out of deference to Ron and his sister. They said they would convince Tony that Hope was really his daughter by manipulating the adoption records. I pointed out that a blood test would prove otherwise, but they said any publicity could still result in my losing my daughter for weeks, maybe months, and they proved their clout by erasing Hope’s adoption records.” Amanda couldn’t keep the fear from her voice.

  “I know it would be a tough battle,” Bernice acknowledged, “but Tony wouldn’t get your child.”

  “The publicity could bring Hope’s birth father into the picture, however. He might fight for custody if he thought there was money to be made. Even if he hasn’t been heard of for some time, he could become a big problem. He is her father.”

  “The courts would never award Hope to him! He walked out on Hope’s mother before she was even born.”

  “I don’t want to gamble on what the courts may or may not do. They’ve taken children away from loving couples who’ve raised them from infancy and given them to strangers who’d abandoned them.”

  “Amanda, you’ve got to go to the police. This is getting more complicated by the minute.”

  “I’ve already broken the law, Bernice. These people have got me over a barrel. The only thing I can do is fight them if I get a chance...and make sure none of this touches Hope.”

  Amanda dialed Tony’s pager number to ask him to call her, then sat back in her chair to wait. It wasn’t easy for her to face the fact that her only ally was a vigilante with a tragic past and a shady future.

  * * *

  TONY WALKED THROUGH the doorway a short time later. He was dressed in the brown pants and shirt of a deliveryman, and he was carrying a parcel. She was astonished at the easy way he adapted to each disguise. It made her wonder how much of what he’d said she dared believe.

  He set the parcel on the floor and sat down across from her. “Are you okay?” he asked when she remained silent.

  Amanda shrugged. “You need to listen to this tape,” she said, depressing the Play button.

  After the recording ended, he looked at her thoughtfully. “What else have they threatened you with? The woman said something about ‘several ways’ of making you lose your daughter. Do you know what she’s talking about?”

  “If this day-care center goes down, and we’re already losing kids, then I won’t be able to support my daughter. I’d probably lose custody of her to my ex-husband, or worse, I’d be so broke I wouldn’t even be able to afford food for Hope. I couldn’t bear that,” she said, her voice a mere whisper. For now, that was all she could tell him.

  Amanda watched Tony pace, moving like a predator searching blindly for his prey in the dark.

  “I can’t access this forgery information they want me to deliver. Snitches are protected, revealed only on a need-to-know basis. Even if Raymond could steal that information, which he won’t, the most he’d find would be code names totally unrelated to their identities. Yet, somehow, I’ve got to do what they want.”

  “Are you sure it’s wise to give them any information at all?” Amanda said cautiously. “Innocent people could get hurt.”

  His dark eyes, always so disturbing, now shone with a turmoil that was frightening in its intensity. “The agents on the case are trained to confront trouble, and the informants are in the business of selling people out for money. There are no innocents involved, except my daughter.” Tony challenged her with a stony gaze, then turned and walked out of the room.

  A dark despair filled her. She was struggling to keep the child that was rightfully hers, and Tony was fighting for the daughter that had been taken from him. Yet in order to keep her own child safe, she had to withhold information that might lead Tony to his.

  Confused, miserable and frightened, Amanda stared absently at her glass. In her heart, she felt as cold as the layer of crushed ice floating at the top of her tea.

  * * *

  AMANDA STARTED to straighten up her desk in preparation for the end of the day. As soon as Bernice came back, she’d pick up Hope and head for home. As she placed the files for the children who were being withdrawn back into the cabinet, Amanda heard a knock on her open door. She turned and saw Raymond standing there.

  “Your receptionist is gone. Mind if I come in?”

  “Not at all. Is something wrong?” Amanda couldn’t read the man’s expression at all.

  Raymond shook his head. “I was planning to meet Tony in another thirty minutes at his home. He’s on the way there now, but I can’t get a hold of him to cancel. He’s not answering his pager.” He set a file on her desk. “It’s important he look at this tonight, so I can have it back tomorrow. It’s a collection of mug shots and rap sheets of women con artists. He asked for it after your run-in at the mall. A positive ID could give him a solid lead.”

  “This is more than a con, though,” Amanda said.

  “Yes, but we need a place to start. The kidnappers we have on file are either behind bars, or they have nothing ostensibly to do with this case. Tony’s already familiar with all that information.”

  Amanda took the file and slipped it inside her tote as Raymond drew a small map showing how to get to Tony’s home. “It’s a bit tricky. Some of the street signs are missing, but this should help.”

  “Thanks. I’ll see that he gets the file. You want it back tomorrow?”

  “First thing, if possible. He can meet me before work at my place. If he wants to talk to me sooner, tell him I’ve gone to Taos on a case, but I should be back by midnight or thereabouts. Okay?”

  “No problem.”

  Amanda couldn’t deny feeling a rush of excitement at the prospect of seeing where Tony lived. A home always revealed quite a bit about the person who lived there. She knew very little about the things that really mattered to Tony, and this seemed like a golden opportunity.

  After pickin
g up Hope, she followed the directions Raymond had given her. Hope sang “Three Blind Mice” over and over as Amanda drove. She smiled at her daughter, comforted by her presence in the car and not the least bit annoyed by the singing. No matter what happened, Amanda knew she couldn’t allow anything to separate the two of them.

  Her thoughts drifted to Tony. The kidnappers really had him in a stranglehold. Worst of all, he was acting with her knowledge so she would share his guilt if they were caught.

  “Mommy, can Tony and I play at his house?”

  “No, Peanut. We won’t be there long. I just have to give him something.”

  “Oh.”

  Amanda took two wrong turns but finally found the gravel road on Raymond’s map. After passing a run-down garage and laundry, she arrived at a wood-frame-and-stucco apartment building that, from the looks of it, had seen better days. Hope had finally tired of her song and was slumped in her booster seat, chin on her chest, asleep.

  Amanda was just pulling in when she noticed a tall, skinny young man with gang colors standing by the side of the building. The garish headband contrasted sharply with his black T-shirt and baggy pants.

  As Amanda slowed down, she saw Tony come around the corner. He grabbed the surprised youth by the collar, then threw him backward against the wall. Tony hit the stunned kid in the stomach, then stepped back and tossed what appeared to be a roll of bills at him. Then, as the young man lay there on the ground, moaning, Tony strolled casually away.

  As soon as Tony was out of sight, the young man got to his feet, ran to a low-rider sedan parked nearby, and sped away.

  Amanda stared, unable to believe her eyes. The boy had been no match for Tony. Did he coerce his informants, paying them only after he’d roughed them up in order to get the information he wanted?

  Amanda drove down the street, rethinking her visit. She glanced down at the file sticking out of her tote, then at her sleeping daughter. No matter what her personal feelings were, there was no denying that her child’s welfare was at stake.

  Needing time to compose herself, Amanda circled the block twice, then finally returned to Tony’s. By the time she arrived, Tony was standing alone by the rear of his pickup, tools in hand. From the dust all over his jeans, she surmised he’d just crawled out from under the vehicle. She studied the tan T-shirt he wore. His sun-darkened skin contrasted with the paleness of the material, and the hardened planes of his body were barely sheathed by the thin material.

  Feeling the jolt of a large pothole in the parking lot, Hope stirred awake, and Amanda’s attention focused back on her daughter.

  “We’re at Tony’s, Peanut. This won’t take long.”

  Hope looked out her window and waved at Tony, who came over to join them as they got out of the car.

  “This is a surprise,” he said with a pleased grin. “And good timing, too. I just put my spare back into place under my truck.”

  “Raymond left something with me for you and asked that we go over it together tonight. He wants it returned first thing tomorrow,” she said, not explaining in too much detail because of Hope’s presence.

  “Come in,” Tony said, leading the way down a long hallway.

  Amanda walked inside, holding Hope’s hand. The apartment was meticulously clean, if small. The furnishings were old and tattered, and at a guess she expected they’d come with the apartment. The whitewashed walls were barren, giving the place an impersonal feel.

  “You could use a few hanging plants,” she said.

  “This is just someplace I eat and sleep. Without my daughter, I haven’t got a reason to make any place home.”

  Aware that Hope was getting restless, Amanda glanced around and noticed a small, portable television set. “Do you mind if Hope watches TV?”

  Tony switched it on as Hope settled on the couch. “Would you like to select what she watches?”

  Amanda turned the dial until she found a rerun of an old family Western. “Here we go. It’s your favorite—the one about the little house.” Amanda pulled a coloring book and a small box of crayons out of her tote bag. “Here. You can do some coloring, too.”

  Leaving Hope occupied, Amanda walked to the table and set the bound folder down. Tony offered her a chair and sat next to her, looking at the file’s contents.

  Amanda could feel the warmth of his body searing through her clothes, making her vibrantly aware. His breath tickled her neck each time he commented on a photo, and she had to fight to suppress those telltale shivers that started at the base of her spine.

  “Nothing here,” he said at last, closing the folder.

  As his hand brushed hers, Amanda held her breath. Needing a distraction, she stood and wandered around the living room, looking for clues to the man. She could feel Tony’s gaze on her, but she tried to remain nonchalant.

  “Would you like to see the rest? Not that there’s much to see, but you seem curious.”

  “Of course I am,” she replied with a smile.

  “In that case, let me give you the grand tour. It should take about twenty seconds.” He went to his right and pushed open a door. “This is my bedroom.”

  The words made a flush of heat spread through her, but with a burst of will, she curbed her thoughts and walked inside. The room was imprinted with the masculine essence he wore. It seemed to surround her, filling her senses and weaving a spell of seduction.

  She’d avoided looking at the bed, but as she turned, the intricate quilt that covered it captured her attention. It had a delicate, feminine touch that told her it was handmade. She walked over to it for a closer look. The patchwork formed a motif for each month of the year. “This is gorgeous.”

  “It was a gift from my grandmother. She made it the same year I joined the Bureau.”

  “Does your family live here in Santa Fe?”

  “I come from a small farming community in southern New Mexico. Just a wide spot in the road, my father always said.”

  She walked to a tiny silver framed photo he kept on the dresser. She’d almost missed it altogether in the shadows of the one low-powered light bulb. The photo showed Tony standing with an older man who shared Tony’s eyes, square jaw and handsome features. “Your dad?”

  “That was taken the day I graduated from the FBI Academy. My dad was so incredibly proud of me! Of course, that all changed.”

  Amanda set the portrait back down. “When you left the Bureau?”

  He shook his head. “When I lost my family.”

  She glanced once more at the man in the photo, then at Tony. “I don’t understand. Why?”

  “I come from a very traditional Spanish background. Above all else, a man is expected to protect his family. It’s a matter of honor. Yet even with all my training, I failed. In their eyes, I was less of a man because of that. My father died last year, asking to see his granddaughter. My mother will never forgive me for that.”

  “What happened to your wife and child wasn’t your fault!”

  “My family was my responsibility. That’s the truth of it.” He walked to the doorway, silently urging her to continue the tour.

  Amanda followed him out. She’d never known what it was like to grow up in a real family, but after listening to his story, she began to suspect that her life had been far simpler because of it.

  “This is my study,” Tony said, opening the other door off the living room.

  For the first time, Amanda caught a glimpse of Tony’s world. This room mirrored his personality. A black silhouette target of a human torso was taped on the far wall. All the rounds were clustered tightly in the center of the head and the heart.

  He followed her gaze. “I’m a good shot, always have been, but that target was one of my best. I kept it as a souvenir. I have marksman status. Or I did anyway.”

  Amanda walked to the cork bulletin board over an old wooden desk. Snapshots of young children filled it.

  “I keep track of any child in the state of New Mexico who is reported missing. Most of these cases are attribu
ted to noncustodial parents, so I concentrate on the ones that seem to have no explanation. I’m convinced that one of those will furnish a lead to Carmen someday.”

  “This last photo, the snapshot of this mother and child isn’t very detailed.” Amanda looked at him and saw the haunted look on his face. “Your wife and child?”

  “We never had time for proper pictures,” he answered in a taut voice.

  On a small table between two file cabinets, she saw a large, blue, stuffed brontosaurus with a bright red bow tie. She stared at it in mute surprise.

  “I saw it in a store last Christmas, so I bought it. The day I find Carmen, I’ll have a present for her, ready and waiting, to welcome her back.”

  Amanda heard tiny footsteps rushing toward them and turned around. Hope rushed into the room, saw the stuffed toy, and ran right up to it. “Oh wow! Mommy, can I play with it?”

  “No, dear, not now. It’s time we went home.”

  Tony took the dinosaur off the shelf. “Here you go, Hope. Consider it a present. You can take it home with you.”

  “Oh, thank you, Tony!”

  Amanda looked into Tony’s eyes. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. It serves a more useful purpose making a child happy now.”

  Amanda watched her daughter race to the living room, hugging the blue toy to her chest. “You made her day.”

  “Good.”

  Amanda couldn’t resist another glance at the practice target. Tony was a man who played by his own rules, a trained manhunter who no longer operated strictly by the law. He had kept that target as a reminder—maybe even as a motivator. She couldn’t afford to let down her guard with him. She looked up at him and realized he had been watching her. His eyes were alive with desire. She glanced away. A sense of sorrow filled her as she accepted the inevitable. She would never know what it was like to stay in his arms, or to be loved by him.

  “Thanks for coming by, Amanda.”

  “Raymond did seem eager to get that file back.” She paused. “Speaking of files... Have you decided what to do about the list the kidnappers wanted?”

  “Yes. I’ve uncovered some of the names of the investigators, but FBI informants are deep cover people. If anyone ever found out who they were, they’d be corpses, not snitches. All I can give them are possibilities gathered from rumors. It’s not reliable, but it’s the best I can do.”