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Danger and Desire: Ten Full-Length Steamy Romantic Suspense Novels

Page 225

by Pamela Clare


  “What are you doing?” Ronni asked.

  “Going to North Platte,” she answered, tugging a jacket off a hangar and putting it in the suitcase. Next went in jeans, a couple T-shirts. She walked to her dresser and started pulling out underwear. “I’ve got to know.”

  Cooper watched. “Whoa, Celina. Slow down.” He looked out the window, took a deep breath before looking back at her. “Odds are Warden Oxford’s right and Emilio is in his prison. Even if Enrique’s not dead, how would they pull off an exchange at a maximum security penitentiary? And, most importantly, why would Enrique, if he is alive, go along with such a scheme?”

  Celina didn’t know the answers to his questions and her brain didn’t want to focus on them. She couldn’t sit tight and wait for Emilio or whoever had called her that morning to make another appearance. She couldn’t let Cooper walk out of her apartment as if last night didn’t mean anything. She needed to take control of the situation or she’d go crazy. Needed to see Emilio in North Platte with her own eyes. Grabbing her camera case, she set it on the bed next to the suitcase.

  “Why don’t you ask Oxford to fingerprint him?” Mitch said.

  Celina stopped, looked at Cooper. Cooper grunted “huh”. Opening his cell phone, he speed dialed. When it connected, he explained to Director Dupé about his suspicions concerning Enrique and suggested they needed confirmation with a fingerprint or DNA swab. He listened for a moment, urged the point smoothly, nodded, and thanked Dupé.

  “Dupé’s doubtful but is going to place a call or two and get a fingerprint match,” he told her. “We should know for sure in a couple of hours who’s in North Platte.”

  Celina thought for a moment. “What if it is Enrique?”

  “Then we hunt down Emilio.”

  He said it so casually, Celina almost forgot how freaked out she was about the idea.

  A knock sounded on her door and Nelson Sanchez entered. He nodded at her but spoke to Cooper. “Nothing. No one saw, or smelled, anything out of the ordinary.” He glanced back at Celina. “Sorry, Celina.”

  The nightmare continued. “It’s like a ghost.”

  Cooper made a motion to Thomas to pack up his laptop. “We need to get to the airport. Dupé’s already made a call to get us on the first departing flight.”

  Celina felt her world screech, like fingernails on a blackboard, to a halt. “You’re leaving?”

  Thomas shut his laptop, started to gather his papers. Mitch and Nelson suddenly seemed to think he needed help. Ronni started gathering coffee mugs.

  Cooper grabbed his jacket off her coat tree. “Yes, Celina. I’m leaving.”

  “What about last night? Aren’t you even going to acknowledge what happened between us?”

  Ronni dropped a cup in the sink, turned to the three men at Celina’s table. “Any of you guys good with plumbing?” She grabbed arms and started hustling the confused men across the room. “I noticed Celina’s shower is dripping. Maybe you could take a look.”

  Shoving them ahead of her, all four entered the bathroom and Ronni shut the door. As small as the bathroom was, Celina knew they were squished in there like sardines.

  Cooper’s jaw was set, a nerve jumping in it. His Terminator expression was back in play. “I’ve been acknowledging what happened all morning.”

  It figured he’d argue the point on a technicality. Figured he’d refuse to admit he was feeling anything except responsibility toward her. “I know this sucks for you. You’re not one to air your laundry in public.” She left out ‘dirty’ because what they’d shared last night was to her in no way dirty. Dirty in the Christina Aguilera sense maybe, but not dirty in the laundry sense.

  “You understand that last night was just…” he paused and Celina braced herself for what she knew was coming. “For fun.”

  “For fun,” she repeated, nodding her head as if she actually agreed. Nodded as if her heart wasn’t breaking. “There’s no Starbucks in our future.”

  The Terminator frowned. Celina shook her head at him. “This is the ‘last night was fun, but we’re just friends’ speech, right?” She watched his frown deepen. “But wait, we’re not really friends, either, are we Cooper? A friend would have called to check on me after I left California. A friend would have told me that Bobby was living in a wheelchair.”

  Drawing in a steadying breath, she plunged forward. “So what we shared last night was just sex—ungodly hot, fuck-me-against-the-door sex—but just sex for you. A one night stand.”

  “No,” Cooper interrupted. “It wasn’t just sex, but…” He shook his head, tried again. “It was…” His eyes were no longer emotionless and Celina could see that he wished she could read his mind as easily as he seemed to read hers. “Last night with the storm and everything, it was like a different time, a different place.”

  “Not real,” Celina offered, suddenly able to read his mind quite clearly. “You were stranded in Iowa during a blizzard and I offered to keep you warm. I told you no one would know and that would have been the case if Emilio hadn’t called. You would have gone back to California this morning and last night would have just been a fantasy episode of Lost.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  But it was what he meant and she knew it. She’d helped him buy into the fantasy. And now he was leaving to go back to California, still believing there was no Starbucks in their future. There was no future for them, period. God, didn’t that rank in the nightmare department right under Cooper bleeding out in the snow.

  The bathroom door opened and Mitch came stumbling out. “Shower head needs a new washer…”

  “Mitch.” Ronni was in the bathroom doorway. “Not yet.”

  “Oh,” he looked sheepishly between Cooper and Celina. “Sorry.”

  Cooper raised a hand to stop him from backing up. “Dupé will call you as soon as the results come back,” he said to Celina. His hand made a rolling motion to Mitch, and he and the other men filed out of the bathroom, Ronni trailing behind and sending Celina an I tried look. “We need to get to the airport.”

  Celina searched his face. “What if Emilio is out there, Cooper? What if he comes after you?”

  “Don’t worry about me.” He ushered his men, one by one, through the door. “If Emilio is out, you’re the likely target. Keep your doors locked and your gun on you.” He met her gaze, went still. “It was good to see you, Celina.”

  Then he was gone without a goodbye.

  Ronni looked at her, looked at the door, back at her. “At least he didn’t say, ‘I’ll call you’.”

  “No.” Celina stared at the closed door, anger swirling through her like the previous night’s blizzard. “He’s too damned honorable to lie to me.”

  And too damned scared not to lie to himself about his feelings.

  Ronni took out a bottle of soda from the fridge and handed it to Celina. Grabbed another and opened it, taking a long drink. “Sex against the door, huh?”

  “You heard that?”

  Ronni nodded. Celina unscrewed the lid on her bottle, took a drink. “Yeah. No-holds barred sex against the door.”

  “Damn,” Ronni said. “That gunpowder and Wheaties diet must be something. Gotta get me a man on that.”

  Celina laughed unexpectedly. Whether it was from the lack of sleep or the emotional rollercoaster ride she’d been on that morning, she couldn’t help herself. “To gunpowder and Wheaties,” she said, raising her bottle in the air.

  Ronni copied her and the two women touched the bottles together, laughing.

  “Our plane doesn’t leave for another two hours,” Thomas said.

  They were in the stairwell and out of earshot of the guard outside Celina’s door. “I won’t believe Emilio’s in prison unless I see him with my own eyes,” Cooper told him. “Enrique either. That fucker’s supposed to be dead. I’m flying home. You’re staying here to watch Celina. Once I get to North Platte and verify who’s in there, I’ll call you and we’ll go from there. Forester, Quarters, and the locals c
an help you with backup if necessary.”

  “I thought Dupé was going to get the warden to fingerprint him.”

  They turned the corner and started down the next flight of stairs. “Money can buy a lot of things.”

  Nelson fell into step behind Cooper. “False fingerprints?”

  “Whole new identities.”

  A sound of disbelief emanated from the young man’s throat, but he nodded. “Even in prison.”

  Nelson was a first year agent. A little green yet but street smart. “In prison, in the real world, it makes no difference. Money and power rule. The San Diego Mafia is a family business that’s been around for thirty years in this country alone. In South America and Mexico, probably a hundred years. They have all the money and connections you can imagine, and even in a maximum correctional facility, money talks, things happen.”

  Mitch was behind Nelson. “Dude, you think Emilio Londano got out of North Platte by forcing his twin brother, who’s supposed to be dead, to impersonate him?”

  “I don’t believe much,” Cooper said as they all hit the sidewalk. “But I do believe in the industriousness of criminals.”

  And his own ability to fuck up. Celina’s face had said it all. There was no saving the day now. He had to find out what was going on with Emilio Londano and he had to stay away from Celina.

  Thomas stopped to say a few words to the Fed at the building entrance. The guy was bored and ready to chat. Wanted to look important. Cooper stood there, hands on hips, scanning the street, the buildings, the rooflines, looking for Londano. Daring the mafia leader to take a shot at him. If he was really out there.

  Nothing. Whoever was out there wanted Celina, not him.

  Thomas shook the agent’s hand and gave him his card. The schmoozing over, they headed to the Durango.

  “You really think she’s in danger?” Nelson asked as they brushed snow off the cab.

  Cooper handed Nelson the keys to start the engine. Celina in danger? His stomach tightened. Unable to answer for a moment, he busied himself with a scraper Thomas handed him. “Worst-case scenario,” he said, “Londano’s out; then, yes, her life’s in danger. Even if he’s not, he could have hired someone to work her over.”

  Thomas used his booted foot to move snow from around the front tire. “But you’re leaving her alone.”

  “No, I’m leaving you here to guard her. Don’t screw up.”

  “Or you’ll kill me.”

  “Yes.”

  Thomas glanced at the apartment building. “Dupé okayed this?”

  “In a roundabout way.”

  Thomas scanned the street. “She leaves the building, I’ll lose her. I can’t keep her under surveillance by myself.”

  “She leaves the building, she better be sitting in this SUV with you.”

  “She’d be safer if she went to California with you.”

  All activity stopped as Nelson, Thomas, and Mitch looked at him. Deep in his gut, Cooper knew Thomas was right, and damn, if he didn’t want to take Celina with him, but he couldn’t. The gossip was going to be hard enough to handle without showing up at the office with Celina in tow. She’d be safe here, especially with Thomas on surveillance, and as soon as Cooper figured out what was up with Londano, he’d try to straighten things out with Celina.

  Chapter Ten

  You should have told me, Celina IM’d Dyer.

  A moment later, Dyer’s reply came back. Why? So you could feel sorry for me?

  Celina shook her head. Because I’m your friend, blockhead.

  Untwist your undies. You have more important things to worry about right now.

  Slouching back in her chair, Celina stared at the laptop screen. All she’d done was worry for the past ten hours. Emilio was playing a game and she didn’t know where she was on the game board.

  She sure as hell didn’t like waiting for him to make the next move, but there was nothing she could do to preempt whatever he was contemplating. Cooper was embarrassed that everyone knew he’d slept with her. He’d very publicly deserted her. Nothing to preempt there.

  But every time she got mad at him, she thought about Emilio’s threat and saw Cooper’s imagined blood on the snow, and then she felt guilty for being mad. Her brain spun in constant circles.

  Ronni had gone grocery shopping at the corner convenience store and had entertained herself watching Rachel Ray and concocting imitation recipes, which she’d then offered to Celina. Wanting to please her friend, Celina tried a few things. Food was the last thing she wanted.

  She queried Dyer. Why hasn’t anyone called me with the fingerprint results?

  Takes time. Prisoner rights and shit. Lawyer has to be present. Be patient.

  She wanted to ask, why hasn’t Cooper called? but stopped her fingers before they typed. Instead, she wrote. What are you working on?

  Officially?

  Celina grinned at the screen. Un-.

  Meth.

  Labs?

  Crackdown here has generated a lot of lab startups in Mexico. Londano was one of the first to take advantage of that. His cartel is still active south of the border. Mules are lying low but still working. Using radio waves through cell towers to warn each other of trouble. I track them, I find him. Simple network analysis.

  You think L’s out, don’t you?

  Too risky not to believe.

  Too risky was right. He threatened Cooper’s life.

  C can take care of himself. He’s not a blockhead like me. Except when it comes to you.

  Celina sat up again. What do you mean?

  He didn’t fly all the way to Des Moines to arrest Jagger. Hawkins and Sanchez could have handled that alone.

  Her heart picking up its tempo, her fingers skipped on the keys. He came to see me?

  No, John Deere tractors, blockhead.

  Celina let go of a small laugh, but her humor faded quickly when she thought of her last conversation with Cooper. She’d fulfilled his fantasy during the night and then he’d left her. He feels responsible for me because I was part of the team and I’m sure he enjoyed last night, she wrote, her fingers shaking as she typed the next words, but he made it clear there is nothing between us.

  There was a long pause and then Dyer ended the conversation. Girlfriend’s here for some afternoon delight. Gotta run. Or roll as the case may be.

  Celina rolled her eyes. Dyer always called his wife, Eliza, his girlfriend. To keep things fresh, he always said. After ten years of marriage, it must have worked. The two still acted like newlyweds. Does Eliza know about her?

  Shhh. Don’t tell. Celina could see Dyer’s thick eyebrows doing his Groucho Marx impression. Stay safe.

  She drummed her fingers on the table. Her suitcase sat on the bed, packed and ready to go, and she considered for the fortieth time that day whether to fly to California. There was no logical reason to do it. She didn’t have a position there and her apartment was sublet for the rest of the winter. She was stuck here in Des Moines whether she liked it or not.

  All was quiet. Dawn McBroom was on duty outside her door and Mike Sugars was downstairs in the foyer. Thomas Hawkins had been across the street all day. Cooper hadn’t stayed but he’d left his teammate to guard her. She didn’t know whether to feel irritated or relieved.

  No phone calls from Emilio. None from Dupé or Cooper. For several hours, she’d paced the floor, mad that she was so out of the loop. She’d tried calling Dupé. Her call was intercepted by the notorious Lana, who knew nothing about the fingerprint match nor did she seem to care about Celina’s situation.

  Standing to stretch, Celina walked to the picture window, staring out at the low-hanging gray clouds. It was early evening, but streetlights buzzed to life and shadows hung over the street below. “This sucks.”

  Ronni flipped off the TV, wandered over to the piles of photographs on the table. “I could drive you to HQ and let Forester baby-sit you.”

  Celina gave her a don’t even think about it face.

  “Why don’t
you show me your pictures?”

  For the next hour, the two friends sat on Celina’s couch and went through her collection of photographs. Cityscapes were mingled with portraits. A group photograph of the SCVC taskforce, glasses raised in a happy salute, fell out of a handful into Ronni’s lap.

  She clucked her tongue. “That Thomas kid is a cutie. He do that Wheaties thing too?”

  Celina stared at the picture, seeing only Cooper, his glass raised but no smile lit his face like the rest of the group. “I took this the day after I arrested Londano. Dyer’s missing.”

  “The guy you were messaging? Who is he?”

  Celina told her the story about Cooper, Dyer, and Valquis. At the end, a sadness hung over her like the gray clouds outside. As soon as the Londano thing was cleared up, she would go see Dyer. She’d bring him a bottle of his favorite whiskey and sit with him. Talk and drink a shot. Laugh a little. Take his picture.

  Ronni yawned and started gathering up the photos. “I think I’ll make some popcorn and see if Mike wants any company.”

  “I’m going to take a shower,” Celina said. “After I get out, I’ll make up a bed on the sofa for you.”

  Ronni nodded, yawned again. “Deal.”

  Celina dug out clean clothes from her closet and headed for the bathroom.

  Setting the water as hot as she could stand, she washed herself several times with her favorite body gel. She scrubbed until her skin was rosy and her fingers were wrinkled. She washed her hair for good measure and then stood in the stream of water and tried to unwind. Her brain was as tired as her body and the thoughts and images had finally started to slow down a bit after bombarding her all day. She needed sleep, which meant turning them off. All of them. Even the sexy Cooper ones.

  Hell with that. He might have left her high and dry, but there was no turning off those. She wanted to remember the way he looked at her over dinner the night before. The way he’d held her while they slept. Her anger at him had faded throughout the day and been replaced with the sadness she felt every time she thought about the chain of events that had led her to this moment. There were so many things she wished had turned out differently. Dyer. Emilio. Cooper.

 

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