Sometimes his best wasn’t good enough.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
MARISSA STARED MOROSELY at her bag, almost numb to the situation. She had no idea where they were going. Archer hadn’t been forthcoming with a lot of details, and she felt wildly out of control of her own life.
Archer appeared from upstairs, carrying a black bag of his own as he came downstairs. She took note of his appearance. If there was a word to describe him it would be lethal. He had a gun—she couldn’t really say what make or model because honestly, they all looked big, black and scary to her mind—tucked into his waistband and when he lifted his pant leg to adjust the strap encircling his calf she saw an evil-looking knife with a wicked serrated edge strapped in a leather holster attached there.
Holy Mother Mary, were they going to South America?
“Is this really necessary?” she asked, eyeing the weapons of destruction that he wore with ease. She added with growing discomfort, “I mean, you look like you’re going to war or something.”
“Tools of the trade,” he answered, bending down to double-check the contents of his bag. He looked up and asked, “You all ready to go?”
“Where are we going?” she countered, picking Jenna from the floor at her feet to hoist her onto her hip. She wiped at a line of drool and rubbed it off on her jeans. “I just think we should think this through before we make hasty decisions.”
He ignored her. “I take that as a yes. Good. We’ll take my Cherokee. I’m assuming the baby has a car seat of some sort?”
“Of course she does,” Marissa said, irritated. “It’s in my car. I’ll go get it.”
He stopped her with a hand gesture. “You stay put. I’ll get it.”
She made a noise of exasperation. “Aren’t you going just a little too far? My car is parked in back.”
He took a step toward her, his expression one of business and stern purpose. She was tempted to take a faltering step back but she held her ground. She was tired of being intimidated even if Archer thought he was doing it for her own good. She gave him a glare to communicate that fact. It didn’t seem to faze him. He said, “Your safety has been compromised. We’re going somewhere safe. I’ve already called in a favor. We don’t know just how far Ortiz is willing to go to get what he wants and I’m not going to take the chance. If you’re ready…let’s hit the road.”
Marissa swallowed the retort on her tongue. He was doing this to protect her—that’s what she needed to keep front and center in her mind but she was already tired of running. What a terrible criminal she made. Life on the run wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, she thought with dark humor.
ARCHER HATED THAT HE had to do this but he didn’t see any other way.
“So where are we going?” she asked as they climbed into his Cherokee, showing only mild distress at the dark stains marring the worn cloth seats as she slid into the front, the baby secure in her car seat behind her. “Is it far?”
He cast a quick look her way before answering. “It’s probably about a forty-five minute drive.”
Her expression twisted into something quizzical as she said, “That’s not far at all. Where is this place? Yosemite or Fresno?”
“Technically, Yosemite. But we’re not going to be near the valley floor. It’s a small winter cabin up in Wawona, owned by Josh’s family. He said we could use it to hole up for a few days until I can get a handle on how to catch Ortiz.”
“We’re going from your cabin in the woods to another cabin in the woods?” she asked incredulously. “How is that safer than just staying here?”
“I told you, this place is compromised. If I had my choices I’d rather take you to a safe house owned by the Bureau but I don’t think we’re ready to go there. Not yet. So, until then, Josh’s place will have to do.”
She looked away, sullen. “I’d rather stay here.”
“Yeah, well, I’d rather not take the chance that Ruben is smarter than we thought and we wake up with our jugulars split wide-open.”
“I doubt he even knows what GPS is,” she maintained stubbornly. “How about we just stay with Josh and Tasha for the night? I’m sure they’d let us crash on their sofa.”
“Never underestimate your enemy,” he warned, thinking of Vincent and how he’d done exactly that because the guy had been a low-level street-rat hood who barely held an eighth grade education. Didn’t take a genius to pick a lock and pull the trigger. “And I know you don’t mean that about Josh and Tasha. You don’t want them involved with this any more than I do.”
“I know,” she said with an unhappy sigh. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. You’re right. I wouldn’t dare bring any trouble on their heads. I’m not thinking straight right now,” she said, her fingers going to rub her temple as if trying to assuage a pulsing pain there.
He understood her desperation and didn’t fault her. “Don’t worry. It’s not permanent. A night or two. I just don’t feel comfortable here until we get some more details. I want eyes on Ruben and until I do…he’s a wild card that I’m not willing to gamble on.”
Her defeated sigh did wonders for his self-esteem as she said, “It will take longer than a few days. The man is like the wind. Nothing stands in his way and he goes wherever he wants.”
“All the more reason to proceed with caution.”
She finally gave a short nod but she was clearly still unhappy about it. He didn’t blame her. He wasn’t crazy about leaving, either, but he wasn’t about to take foolish chances with their lives.
“Have a little faith,” he said, to which she simply looked away to stare out the window. “Rissa,” he said her name softly and she turned reluctantly. Once he had her gaze, he made her a promise. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you or Jenna. You have my word.”
She swallowed and her eyes watered a little but she nodded. “Thanks.”
“But?” He sensed there was something she wasn’t saying.
Marissa returned to the window. “Just drive. If we’re going to get going, we ought to do it before it gets dark. Jenna doesn’t travel all that well for long distances.”
Dissatisfied, but agreeing with her logic, he put the car in Drive and headed out. Josh, God love the man, didn’t even hesitate when Archer had asked for permission to use the cabin. He’d simply told him where the key was hidden. When this was all over, Archer owed him. Big-time.
Connecting to Rico through his Bluetooth Jawbone, he gave him the quick and dirty of the situation.
“Smart call,” Rico said when he’d finished. “You destroy the chip?”
“Yes. It’s in pieces and it ain’t coming back.”
“Good. Where you heading?”
“Friend has a family cabin up in the high country. Service is sketchy but no worse than what I’ve got at my place. When I get there I’ll give you the home number in case the cell craps out. In the meantime, I want you to do some snooping around as to why there was no assault charges filed against Ortiz when he smacked Marissa’s sister around. There’s gotta be a paper trail somewhere, even if someone tried to bury it.”
“You know, I do have a job, unlike some people who are enjoying a life of leisure with a beautiful woman,” Rico teased.
“How do you know she’s beautiful?” Archer asked, his hackles rising along with his sudden suspicion. “You’ve never met.”
“No, but I’m a whiz when it comes to hacking. Not that I needed my skills since I just checked out her driver’s license, courtesy of the DMV. Hot little mamacita you’ve got there. I wouldn’t mind spending a little R & R in the mountains with a sweet tart like that.”
“Watch your mouth, Rico, before I zip it shut for you.”
“Testy. And rude. That’s what you are, you know that?”
“So I’ve been told. Can you do it or not?”
“You know I can. Hit me back with that number when you get there so I can triangulate your position in case you need backup.”
“No one knows about this cabin
in Ruben’s circles. We should be fine but just to err on the side of safety…yeah, sounds like a solid plan.”
Archer clicked off and caught Marissa’s curiosity. “Teammate of mine. He’s a solid guy. We can trust him,” he assured her.
“Are you friends?” she asked.
Friends? He wouldn’t call Rico a friend, would he? He had to think about it for a minute. Finally, he shrugged. “We don’t golf together or anything but he’s a good guy,” he answered.
“I didn’t know you golf.”
“I don’t.” Her chuckle made him grin. “What?”
She simply shook her head. “Nothing. So tell me more about this cabin. Does it have running water?”
“Yes. But no dishwasher. And it’s a vacation rental during the summer, so we’ll have to wash the sheets and leave it as we found it for the next person.”
“How many times have you been there?”
“Well, when Josh and me were teens we used to come up here when it was empty and hang out.”
“Ah, so you used to go there to party.”
He laughed. “Yeah. But it was cool as long as we didn’t mess the place up. We did some pretty stupid things but nothing that ever got out of hand. It’s a good place. I think you’ll like it.”
“Hmm,” was all she said before she returned her gaze out the window. He knew this was hard for her. It wasn’t like they were running off for a relaxing vacation. The threat was there and it sat between them, dark and menacing, squatting on whatever good feelings that threatened to bloom between them. It sucked. He wished he were taking them to a beautiful five-star resort with room service, all the amenities, near a white-sand beach with plenty of sunshine. He wasn’t knocking Josh’s family cabin—he had a lot of great memories in that place—but let’s face it, he knew it wasn’t much to look at. And right now was not the best time to visit. There was likely still snow on the ground, which meant the pipes might be frozen, and the only source of heat in the entire house was an old floor heater that you had to practically stand over to get the benefit of any warmth. No, it wasn’t the Hilton, but it was isolated, no one in Ruben’s circles would be able to find it, and his main job was to keep Marissa and Jenna safe.
Later, he promised himself, he would take Marissa somewhere beautiful where she could be pampered like she deserved.
MARISSA WAS DOING HER best to keep up a brave front but inside she quivered and shook. Her nerves were shot. She wasn’t cut out for this kind of thing. She missed her ordinary life, even if it was a bit on the boring side. Right about now, she’d give anything to slide back into that staid, predictable routine of going to work, taking care of Jenna, grocery shopping and diaper detail with the knowledge that she’d do everything all over again the next day. It was hard to imagine that every now and again she’d chaffed at that ordinary life.
“Tell me about your work,” Archer said, breaking into her thoughts. She didn’t want to think about her work and the possibility that she’d never return to what she’d been working on. She shrugged and then shook her head. Archer seemed to understand. “It’s okay. We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” he said.
“Thanks,” she murmured, returning to the scenery. She thought of her mother, dead for the past nine years and wondered if she’d watched Mercedes die. Marissa blinked back tears. She hoped if Mama was there, she had guided Mercedes to heaven. She hated to think that her sister died alone and afraid.
“Do you think Mercedes suffered?” she asked in a small voice.
There was hesitation in Archer’s tone as he answered. “From what you’ve told me it was a gun-shot wound to the head…and usually that’s a pretty fast way to die, unless…”
“Unless what?”
“Unless the bullet ricocheted off the skull and banged around the brain—” he stopped and Marissa was intensely grateful. She’d been foolish to ask. The details weren’t likely to make her feel better and Archer must’ve realized this. “I’m sure it was quick,” he finished.
Whether that was true or not, Marissa didn’t want to know. She’d just needed to hear it.
“Mercedes was such a force of nature, it’s hard to believe she’s gone.”
“She’ll always live on in your heart and in Jenna,” Archer offered, trying to be helpful. She supposed it was true but she wanted her sister back, in the flesh, not by proxy. “Tell me a story about Mercedes, something you remember that makes you feel good,” he suggested.
She appreciated his trying to make her feel better but she was mired in grief—not only for her sister but for herself—and she wasn’t sure she had the strength to pull herself free, even to share something nice.
“C’mon, it’ll make you feel better,” Archer said, his tone firm but encouraging.
“Since when did you start moonlighting as a therapist,” Marissa said, irritation washing over her for his refusal to let her just remain in the mood she was in. “I don’t want to talk right now.”
“That’s exactly why you should,” he countered.
“I think I prefer the gruff, insensitive jackass to the Dr. Phil version of Archer Brant,” she muttered. “That Archer Brant would’ve just let me be depressed.”
“I’m going to let that slide, because I know you’re hurting. C’mon. Trust me. Besides, I’m curious. You have to remember I only knew the wild side of your sister, the one who was always kicking up trouble and driving you crazy. Tell me something I don’t know about the woman.”
“She wasn’t always kicking up trouble,” Marissa said, frowning, even though she knew Mercedes had been a handful. There was something rude about talking ill of the dead. Mama would turn over in her grave if she knew.
“So disabuse me of that impression,” he challenged.
He was transparent. She knew what he was doing but the drive was long, and if she remained in this morose mood she might do something completely idiotic like run screaming back to the Bay Area just to try and reclaim what had been taken from her, so she huffed an annoyed breath and picked a favorite memory to share.
She started off by grumbling, “You’re a pain,” and then sighed as she began. “Well, since Mercedes and I were only thirteen months apart—fertility seems to run in the family—we often wore the same clothes and shoes, which was a good thing seeing as Mama couldn’t afford to buy much in spite of working two jobs. When I was fifteen I was asked to the senior prom by this senior, Hector Gonzalez. Of course, Mercedes was also asked to the prom but there was no way Mama could afford two dresses. I begged Mama but she said no. I was too young, and since Mercedes was older, she should get the dress. I was heartbroken but what could I say? So when we went to go shopping for Mercedes’s dress I tried to stay home but Mercedes insisted that I go. I hated her for making me. And then she made me try on dresses with her, saying it would make it more fun. I pouted, whined and made a general pain of myself until finally, I gave up and just tried to have fun. And it was fun trying on the dresses. Mercedes picked my favorite dress and we left.”
“That’s your favorite memory?” Archer looked at her quizzically but she silenced him with a glare. “Sorry. Keep going.”
“So we get home and Mercedes levels with me. The dress was for me. She told Mama she would stay home so I could go to my first prom. Mercedes said it was a big deal for a senior to ask a sophomore and she didn’t want me to miss out. Besides, she could always go next year.”
“Was it worth it? The prom?”
“It was amazing. Hector was a perfect gentleman and I felt like a princess.” She smiled at the memory. Archer was right, she was starting to feel better. She gave him a smile, which he returned. Her insides melted just a little.
“So did Mercedes end up going to the prom the following year?” Archer asked.
“Ah, no, actually. She dropped out of high school her senior year,” Marissa said, biting her lip. “That was the year Mama got sick. Mercedes dropped out to take care of Mama and me.”
“Wasn’t your sister only s
eventeen at the time?”
“Yes. At first she went on independent study, but then, she just stopped trying to make an effort to graduate. And the school didn’t have time to waste on another Latina from the East Side. They probably figured she’d just gotten pregnant and that’s why she dropped out. They didn’t care.” Marissa couldn’t keep the bitterness from her voice but she tried to let it go, just the same. Mercedes was no longer in a place where those things mattered. No one could judge her any longer. “That’s why it was so important for me to graduate, go to college. So I could help shoulder the load. To pay it back. You know?”
“Yeah. I do.”
Marissa sighed. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I had everything planned. Me and Mercedes were going to get a small condo—I’d already put aside a good down payment—all I needed to do was to get Mercedes away from Ruben. But he was like a disease, infecting her with his charm and evil ways. He turned her into someone else.”
“Were drugs involved?”
Marissa didn’t answer. She didn’t have to. Archer heard the truth in her silence. He shook his head. “It happens, Rissa. Even the best of them fall sometimes,” he said, trying to ease the burden she carried.
“Ruben got her into that lifestyle,” Marissa said. Just saying his name made her want to vomit. “The swanky parties at the compound, Cristal champagne flowing like water, diamonds and other jewels given as payment for services rendered…it was Sodom and Gomorrah up there and Mercedes was sucked in. Every night after work I’d light a candle for her at St. Thomas Aquinas and pray for Mercedes to find a way out of that life before it killed her. I thought my prayers had been answered when she finally decided to leave Ruben but—” Her throat constricted and she had to look away. “I guess I was wrong,” she managed to say before the tears made it impossible.
Archer swore softly and she glanced at him, confused. “What?” she asked.
“I’ve gone and upset you again. I was trying to make you feel better. Now you’re crying. I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t realize how bad things were…toward the end.”
Trusting the Bodyguard Page 10
