Temptation and Treachery (Dangerous Desires)

by Roberts, Sahara

  Drag her down here… Rio studied Ayala’s face, the look in his eyes. The expression wasn’t anger or concern. He was scared. So why would a man, scared for his daughter’s life, call her to Mexico?

  Shoving back the chair, he circled the desk, going across the hall, unlocking the room Gatlin secured the night before. He stopped in front of the box labeled “Victoria’s BR”. Gatlin’s initials sat next to the date and time. Rio searched the other boxes, but Gatlin had only gone through one room. Her bedroom.

  He set his jaw as he pulled off the lid. Her purse lay on a pile of shorts, tops, undergarments, and a pile of bikinis that were more string than material. Yanking the purse handles apart, he grabbed the phone and pressed the home button.

  Cursing, he stomped back to the office, pulling open one drawer after another. Finally, he found a frayed charger cable. What seemed like hours after plugging in, he entered the pin Celeste provided, then flipped through the icons to the call log. Nothing, for months. So he moved on to the texts, which stopped several weeks back.

  At the top of the screen was the conversation with her father. Searching through, he confirmed her story. But was that really everything? People lied when they were backed into a corner. And this could literally be a lifetime of trouble for her. She’d obviously done some cleaning. His own message to her was gone. Likely deleted after he dropped her off. He tried scrolling further back, but with no internet connection he stopped, cursing again as he entered the password for the wifi. A few keystrokes later, he’d downloaded more messages and sat back to read.

  That’s how Gatlin found him, scrutinizing every line on every conversation, like a jealous lover trying to find any sign of infidelity.

  “You didn’t eat.” Gatlin went to the coffeemaker, dropping a K-cup in the well.

  “She was telling the truth,” Rio said gruffly, ignoring Gatlin’s comment. “They met up during at least two of the time frames she mentioned.”

  “He could have given orders from anywhere,” Gatlin pointed out.

  “I said the same thing.” Dialing down his frustration, Rio turned to the laptop. “Check this out.” He went back to the videos, opening the first one before sending the feed up to the flat screen. “Watch the body language, not just the words.” He moved on to a point further in the video. “Now this.”

  “The guy’s a hard-ass,” Gatlin said, tasting his coffee before discarding the stirrer.

  “Now this.” Rio switched screens, queuing up the section. Gatlin stopped, the cup frozen next to his mouth. Rio kicked the chair around to face him. “She said he had her come down to meet with him.”

  Gatlin’s brow furrowed. “She did?”

  “That’s what she’d told me,” Rio’s stated in a flat tone, not inviting questions or commentary. If he wasn’t in the habit of watching people, he might have missed Gatlin’s grip tightening on the cardboard cup. “So what’s he talking about here? We didn’t drag her anywhere.”

  Gatlin brought his hand down to waist level, staring into his coffee. “The, uh, the whole topless thing…” Rio’s temper went to a low simmer. “I didn’t know. Man, you get I was just fucking with the guys,” Gatlin rushed on to explain. Rio held the other man’s gaze, relaying his thoughts about broken jaws without having to utter a word. “She was dressed. Well, in the biki—bathing suit. Like, she never took the top off.” Better. His tortured shoulders appreciated the admission. “I went back to collect her stuff. Didn’t want anyone tripping over anything you didn’t know about.”

  That explained the boxes. Rio nodded once then turned back to the computer. “So, anyway, with Ayala out of the loop on this, it’s got me wondering if we’re not flying blind.” He checked the contact information to get the number, then switched screens on the laptop. A minute later he’d added another question to the pile. “That phone is in Juarez right now.”

  “He could have several,” Gatlin suggested.

  “Would you leave behind the phone you use to text your daughter when you’re going to see her?”

  Gatlin hitched a shoulder, shaking his head. “So what are you thinking?”

  “This may not be her father she was talking to.”

  “So she was meeting someone else?”

  “No.” Rio’s imagination had shot straight past that. He tapped the phone. “What if she doesn’t know this isn’t her father.”

  “So you think someone hacked it?”

  “It could be simpler than that. Someone on the inside could get to it if she put it down. The messages start with her getting home from seeing him and he’s checking on her.”

  He checked the camera roll, scrolling through dozens of shots. Men in all sorts of situations, from having coffee to driving. One was even adjusting himself. He closed the album. “Have tech go through all of it.”

  “Any idea who’d want to set her up?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Celeste stared out the window, watching men move around the grounds. Vix paced the floor, her dark catsuit useless now that the sun was up. She’d tried half a dozen escape plans, but none ended in success, even in her imagination, thanks to Rio. Celeste sat in the hospital bed, cold metal handcuffing her to the rail. One hand had been freed for her to feed herself, but with absolutely no interest in food, she’d only managed to force down a few bites. Her mind kept replaying the arrest. The gunshots had echoed in her head most of the night, chasing away any possibility of sleep.

  She reached up with her free hand and rubbed her eyes, wishing she could curl up somewhere safe and sleep. The door opened, and Kari greeted someone who didn’t respond. Frowning, she dropped her hand, dragging her attention away from the scene outside. She looked over her shoulder and went still.

  Rio.

  He acknowledged Kari with a quiet “Hey,” and stood there, looking at her. Heat flared in her cheeks, and her heart started beating so hard it filled her throat. She turned away, focusing on a spot in the middle of the yard. After everything he’d done, she was still annoyed she looked like crap, and he got to see her this way.

  “Celeste.” Hearing her name coming from him set her nerves on edge. “Look at me.” She straightened her spine, scowling as she met his gaze. “You haven’t eaten.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  His features hardened. “I’m not going to let you hurt this child.”

  She flinched. How could he think she’d willingly hurt the baby? “I’m not,” she retorted, outrage adding a hard edge to her tone. She moved to fold her arms under her breasts only to be held in place by the wrist. “The chorizo is…” She shook her head, scrunching her nose.

  He relented, looking down at the chorizo and egg. “Parker.” He picked up the untouched meal and handed it to Kari, ignoring her questioning look. “Can you talk the kitchen into fixing a quick breakfast?”

  “I think I can work something out.” Kari took the plate, giving her a curious glance from head to waist and back. Celeste wanted to stop her, but truthfully, she hadn’t eaten a full meal since the previous afternoon. She had no idea how that would affect a developing baby.

  “Eggs, plain and scrambled, ham on the side. Wheat bread, lightly toasted.” Something twisted inside her. He remembered how she liked her breakfast. Vix’s shoulders sagged, and her expression turned dreamy. Celeste gave a disapproving sniff. These people probably researched their targets and learned everything about them. He turned back to look at her, his expression having softened. “And milk,” he added over his shoulder.

  “Gotcha.” Kari gave him a mock salute. Celeste bit her lip, struggling with the urge to call her back. For the first time since this nightmare started, she and Rio were alone together. Suddenly the room seemed a lot smaller with just the two of them. Her senses focused on him, fighting to put up a wall and scale it at the same time.

  “
We need to talk.”

  “I have nothing to say to you.” She turned to the window, once again trying and failing to cross her arms.

  “It’s about your father.”

  Damn him. She ground her teeth and gave a subtle tilt of her head. “I’m listening.”

  “Yesterday, you claimed your father wasn’t a part of all the violent acts he’s been credited with.”

  Celeste nodded. What was Rio after? Hadn’t he done enough? Then it hit her, the jerk wanted help chasing him. Anger roiled through her. “I’m not going to help you trap him,” she snapped.

  “Answer the question, Celeste.”

  “He’s still my father. I can’t be—”

  “He’s already in custody,” he said, losing some of the hard edge in his voice.

  “No.” Bloody, horrific images flashed through her mind. Oz’s face replacing every victim the internet offered up when she Googled him. Devastated, she set her hand to her throat, applying pressure where her lungs were threatening to blast through. “Is-is he all right?” Her eyes burned, but she couldn’t look away. Custody. Not dead. Not hospitalized. Still, with her father’s reputation, things could have gone bad. Really bad.

  Rio’s gaze swept across her face, in a familiar way. “He’s alive. And safe.” She fell back on the bed, releasing a shaky breath. Thankfully he was arrested and not killed. “Celeste, I need you to concentrate. You said he wasn’t involved in some of the reported skirmishes?” She nodded, pushing herself up on one elbow. “You understand he hires people like the ones in those firefights.”

  “I know.” She agreed. “But this wasn’t him. I tried to tell your guy last night, but he didn’t believe me.”

  “What if I said there’s a possibility you’re right?” Rio watched her intently. “Convince me it’s not him.”

  “You didn’t see his face.” The memory was still vivid in her mind. “He didn’t know about the nightclub in Mazatlán until one of his men came in, pulling him aside for a whispered conversation. He told me to go to bed and spent half the night watching international news and making phone calls. Same with Tampico, only he sent me home and flew back to Mexico.” The people killed were innocent tourists at a popular resort. The news reported her father sighted in the area, so they believed he was personally responsible. “The following year, he came to visit for my birthday. That’s when Monclova happened. He left, furious.”

  “How many phones does your father use?”

  “Just the one.” She hitched a shoulder, not knowing what her father did outside of their visits. “Well, for me, just the one.”

  Rio leaned against the foot of the bed, solid arms crossed over his chest, reminding her of another time, another bed. He’d been so relaxed. Sexy. Her fingers had itched to explore his bare chest even though they’d just— “Would you be surprised to find two numbers for him in your contacts?”

  She blinked, clearing her mind before replaying his words. Confusion, fear, and a need for answers shot through her, rolling around in an unbalanced mix. “I… No. How is that possible?” Though, yes, her father texting always struck her as odd. So why had she never questioned it, and who had she been talking to?

  “How long ago did you start texting?”

  “Um, I’d need to check the phone to be sure.” She searched her memory. “Several months, at least. Before that it was occasional phone calls.” She shrugged. “He’s always been concerned about putting me in danger.”

  “Everything’s still on your phone? Nothing’s been erased?”

  Heat rose up her chest to her cheeks. Obviously he’d seen she erased his message. Well, she wasn’t about to tell the man who was using her to get to her father that she’d been trying to keep him safe. She hadn’t wanted her brother or his men to find Rio’s information before she talked to her father. “No.” She cleared her throat. “All his messages are there.” Her voice trailed away.

  Rio gave a single nod. “Did you ever talk to him about the texts?”

  She shook her head. “We don’t talk often, and we visit even less.”

  He nodded, losing himself in thought for a minute. “Did the house have any hidden video cameras?” Rio asked in a businesslike manner.

  “No.” She did a mental run through the house again. “I don’t think so.”

  “Good. We’re going to flush out whoever this is, but I need your help to do it.”

  She sat there, considering her options, which at this point were few. She could help, or not. And maybe, just maybe, they could prove he wasn’t executing innocent people.

  It was still hard to wrap her head around the fact someone was pretending to be her father. Had she shared anything personal? Anything that affected anyone else? Likely not, their conversations didn’t usually venture past the two of them and Leonard. The creepy crawly feeling she’d expected yesterday finally hit her full force.

  “Celeste, are you up to it? We can keep you safe, but we’ll need you, in case he asks something we can’t answer.”

  She nodded. “Would you take it into account, if we can prove he didn’t do those things?” It might not be much, but if it helped clear his name, it would be worth it.

  “I don’t know how much it would help. He’s wanted in both countries after what he’s done.”

  “But some may not be him.”

  “I’m sure the court would consider it.”

  “Okay.” She ran her hands over her shorts. “What do I have to do?”

  “We’ll put a plan together this afternoon.” Rio studied her thoughtfully, then straightened, stepping in front of her. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a key ring and took her wrist. His long fingers burned into her skin. A mechanical crunch and the clamp released, leaving her free. He ran his thumb over the side, so soft it could be a caress. “Celeste.” He looked into her eyes, and she swallowed hard. What she wouldn’t give for a camera right now. Vix smiled from over his shoulder. She stretched out and ran her fingers over the cuffs, biting her bottom lip as she shot him a hot look. Celeste broke eye contact, cursing him inwardly for teaching her body to respond to him. “I—”

  “Breakfast.” Kari pushed through the door, carrying the meal he’d requested. “The kitchen staff wasn’t exactly thrilled. They’d just finished cleaning up.”

  Celeste pulled her hand back, gingerly rubbing the chafed skin where the cuff had sat. Rio curled his fingers into a fist. He stepped to one side, bringing the rolling table close. “I’ll go by and talk to Jorge.”

  “She’s free to move around?” Kari nodded toward the handcuffs.

  “With an escort,” he clarified.

  “Can I have something else to wear?” Celeste interrupted, annoyed at them speaking as if she wasn’t sitting inches away.

  “After everything is searched and catalogued, I’ll have Gatlin get your clothes,” Rio replied as he turned to Kari. “Once she’s eaten, get with Gatlin. He and Celeste are going to build a timeline so we can set a trap for our impostor.”

  …

  “’Kay. I think we got it,” Gatlin said, coming around to sit on the edge of his desk.

  Rio swiveled, sitting back in his chair to see Gatlin’s screen. After clearing the air with Celeste, he opted to set her up with Gatlin since she was obviously still pissed. He’d kept an eye on them throughout the afternoon but she’d been completely focused on her tasks.

  “We went back six years,” Gatlin explained. “Social media proved to be the usual gold mine of intel. I can confidently place Oz with Celeste at some birthdays, a couple of holidays, and a random visit.”

  “Oz?”

  Gatlin snorted. “That’s what she calls him.”

  Celeste sat there absently pushing back her cuticles as Gatlin relayed the details of her life. “So why were you getting together this time?” Rio asked.

  Gatlin waited. “I got a message to
come,” Celeste directed her reply to Gatlin, who plugged in the information.

  “So what did you discuss during the visit?” Rio insisted.

  “We didn’t,” Celeste said in a clipped tone.

  He raised his chin. “You’ve been with him several weeks and you didn’t talk?”

  “I was waiting for Oz, but he hadn’t shown up.”

  Gatlin brought up two timelines on the screen. The timeframes over the past few years ranging from a long weekend down to a few hours in recent visits. Had they been planning something? Checking in once their scheme went live? Or would a father really travel halfway across the country on his child’s birthday to meet for just a few hours?

  Gatlin’s voice brought him back to the present. “—plotted points where they were together then checked against Oz’s murder board.” Celeste shifted uncomfortably while Gatlin overlaid the timelines. “From those, we found six points in common.” The series disappeared, leaving only the overlapping points, three of those marked by large red dots. “Including the three major events in Mazatlán, Tampico, and Monclova. Mazatlán being the worst.” Gatlin zoomed into the first one, the screen filled with one distorted body after another. Celeste shrank back in her seat, her face going ashen despite the new tan. She bit her lip before she averted her eyes from the gruesome scene.

  “Move it along,” Rio suggested. Gatlin looked over, confused, leaving an image with decapitated bodies on the screen. Rio glared, his eyes shifting to Celeste then back.

  Gatlin’s back stiffened as he realized what he’d done. “Um…” He hit the remote, clicking through the rest of the shots. “We did find three other, minor incidents, escalating to Mazatlán. Known cartel members were among the dead at the first location. Oz took credit for the third incident with a bloody message on the wall. And he was seen in Tampico, the fifth scene, which is how he ended up with credit for the mass—incident.”