by Tina Leonard
Rossi nodded, backing the vehicle down an emergency lane until they reached a turnoff point. They went back the other way, heading toward a dusty, rundown Texas border town.
Sheriff Grimes narrowed his eyes as he saw the truck go through, then the car that was following them stop, back up and head the opposite way. Frowning, he wondered what his woods-squatting friends were up to. Something about crossing the border into Mexico bothered them.
If they were bothered, he'd be willing to bet his boots they were hiding something. He considered his options. He could call the local police and suggest they investigate the car and its occupants. Or he could follow them and see what they were up to.
On the other hand, now that Tessa and Cord had crossed into Mexico, that all but damned them in the eyes of the law. In fact, now that he thought about it, there was no other reason for Cord Greer to take his brother's girlfriend into Mexico, a trip they'd made mainly under cover of night, unless they had something to hide. A helluva haul they'd done nearly straight through except for a small amount of time in a fleabag motel. There was no reason for this desperate dash to Mexico unless Cord was trying to help Hunt's girlfriend escape scrutiny.
She might have done the colonel in after all. And lied through her pretty white teeth to him. Were the men following their truck some kind of government agents?
His own situation was hampered because the Mexican authorities wouldn't allow him to stop and question Cord and Tessa. There could be no apprehension. Grimes cursed, hating it when he fell for a sweet face and a sweeter story. Worse, Hester Draper had lied to him, and she had a wrinkled face.
All that talk of Tessa being such a good soul had been bullcrap. He despised being played for the fool. No doubt Tessa and Cord thought they were safe and were laughing at eluding him.
He weighed his options. He could alert the Mexican authorities that the possible killers of an American military official were in their country. Maybe they would be arrested and possibly held in Mexico for a long time.
However, the American ambassador would become involved and then the military, and the whole thing could get out of hand. Extraditing Tessa and Cord would be a pain in the ass.
And he wanted to be the one in control.
Yet there didn't seem to be any other choice. They might have escaped him for good. For all he knew, they planned on meeting Hunt in Mexico. Maybe Cord was driving her to meet Hunt.
He felt like lightning had struck him. Why hadn't he thought of that before? His blood boiled as he realized how badly he'd been duped.
One or both of them had killed a man and were trying to get away with it. Tessa intended to leave the country with Hunt, probably figuring no one would be the wiser as she spent as little time in Crookseye as possible.
Cord Greer wasn't about to do anything to rat out his brother. A choice had to be made. He couldn't follow both the old Ford and the red truck. Spitting tobacco into the paper cup he kept in a plastic cup holder, he made his decision.
Chapter Seventeen
Grimes turned around and followed the Ford. If Cord hadn't been lying through his teeth, then Grimes had himself an easy task ahead – unless the dudes in the beat-up, brown car were under cover. It had to be the same one that had been parked at the Greer ranch, but only matching the tire treads would verify his hunch. There was no way to do that now.
They left the road before the border town, turning down a lane along a large dirt field that looked like it was being readied for planting. A good stretch from the road, the brown car turned into a narrow street in front of a dilapidated white frame house. The Ford passed the house while he kept a careful distance behind. A stand of mesquite trees on the left side of the road appeared to be their destination because they stopped there.
Mighty peculiar for folks who'd just decided against seeing the sights in Mexico. He pursed his lips, unable to see what the occupants of the car were doing. They could be dumping some weed or other illegal drug with which they wouldn't want to cross the border. Possibly some stolen hardware. Guns, in all likelihood.
He got out of the car, checking his holster. His blood hummed, his heartbeat a hammer inside his chest as he quietly tracked the car.
Several paces from the Ford, he squatted behind a mesquite tree. If it was FBI, he sure as hell wanted to know what they were up to.
Two men, one short and wearing a cowboy hat and a holster, one tall and bald, got out of the car. They surreptitiously scanned their surroundings. Grimes perked up. He knew that glance. It was nonchalant but alert, a dead giveaway something was going down. Yet the cowboy hat and gun belt gave him pause. Who else could be muscling in on his investigation?
The short man pulled a gun from the holster, checking it. He nodded to his friend, who put a key into the lock of the trunk.
Something was in there, something that was about to be very dead.
He drew his gun just as the trunk lid sprang open, thrust out of the tall guy's hand by the force of something inside.
The short man jumped as a foot kicked out toward him, someone desperately trying to escape the small prison. A khaki-covered leg and an arm made it from the trunk as the person inside tried to get out.
Suddenly, Grimes knew what had happened to his trooper buddy - he was about to meet St. Peter at the gates just like the colonel.
He raised his gun, squeezing off one shot at the gunman, winging him in
his firing hand. The man screamed and dropped his weapon, while the taller man swiveled to see from where the shot had come. The trooper leaped from the trunk, landing on top of the tall man, pulverizing his face and chest with furious strength. Though wounded, the gunman ran over, kicking at the trooper's head in an effort to free his comrade.
"Dead or alive?" Grimes murmured to himself. "It's your lucky day," he muttered, choosing to fire one warning shot close enough to the kicker to make him hit the dry dirt.
"That's better." He came out, holding the gun on the perpetrators.
"Stand up," he told the trooper. "Get my cuffs and use them on the tall one."
"Senor, this man was attacking us! We are merely defending ourselves," the short, ugly one protested.
"Is that a Mexican accent? Well, you'll find these aren't friendly parts for murderers. No, sir, don't you move, or you're going to end up dead."
The trooper handcuffed them both, giving the short one a good smack upside the head.
"That was for doing whatever the hell you did to knock me out."
"There are laws against police brutality in your country," Rossi protested. "I saw it on the television. And we get one phone call. We are from Spain, and we want to call our ambassador."
The trooper glanced at Grimes. Nodding his head, Grimes turned around. He heard a hard thump and then a moan. He turned back around as the trooper snatched his hat and his gun belt back from his attacker as he lay prone on the ground.
"You can't do that!" the tall man cried, his eyes wide at the rough treatment his partner had just received.
"You can't treat us that way. We know the laws of America."
"You may," Grimes said, "but you're in Texas right now. You attacked an officer of the law, and I'm a witness to the fact that you were about to shoot him with his own firearm. That makes you one dumb criminal with very few rights. "
The trooper looked at him. "Thanks, buddy."
"No problem. Let me call to get you a ride back and someone to pick up our friends here." He dialed local information for the police department, explaining the situation before turning off his phone. "They're going to arrange for someone to get you back to your car. Are you okay?"
"Going to be fine now that I'm out of that damn trunk."
Grimes nodded, going over to kick one of the Spaniards, the short one, who lay cuffed on the ground, bleeding from his wounded arm.
"Hey, what do you boys want with the folks you been tailing for the past two days?"
The men didn't answer.
"I see you're suffering hearing impairment." Grimes
leaned down to stare in their faces. "You can tell me now, or you can tell me after you rot in jail for a week, but you're going to tell me."
"He killed my brother," Salvador spit out.
"Cord Greer did?"
"No, his brother killed my brother."
"Ah. Revenge. You want revenge, amigo?"
"Si."
Grimes frowned.
"Well, you ain't gonna get it. You messed up by killing the colonel."
The tall one shrugged.
"I saw him in Madrid with the Hunter. I know he was in on it. "
' The Hunter? "
"The Hunter whose girlfriend went into Mexico."
His eyes narrowed.
"Do you know why she did that?"
"No."
"Were you planning on killing her, too?" Grimes asked.
"We wanted to use her to make the Hunter come out of hiding. He deserves to die. "
"How do you know he's in the States?"
"We have been following him for a long time. We nearly had him in Madrid, then we followed him to New York. And then to Texas. We will find him again one day because we
are on a holy mission of vengeance. An eye for an eye."
"Yeah, well, vengeance is Mine, saith the Lord," Grimes stated without emotion.
"I guess it was a good enough plan. Maybe it just wasn't your lucky day. "
The Spaniard spit into the dust near him. "When I am free, I may decide a brother for a brother is better payment. And I will be free soon."
"I'm not sure you realize how much hot water you're in. You won't be coming into the United States again for a long time once our legal system tosses you out. I don't think Hunt or Cord will have too much to worry about." Grimes turned to look at the trooper.
"If you can handle these boys, I'm going to go sit along the border for a little while. We'll get our heads together on the police report later."
"No problem."
Grimes nodded and went back to his car. Hunt had to be in Mexico. They had to have gone there to meet him, maybe so Tessa could join him.
He wondered why they hadn't flown to Mexico. For that, Cord wouldn't have needed to accompany her. She could have gotten on some small plane that served the area close to the border and then she would have only had to get across. Hunt could have picked her up there.
Why had Cord brought her himself? Unless there were no available flights in the time frame they needed; unless he wanted to be with her for some reason. Grimes drove back up the highway, this time parking his car at a dingy restaurant where he had full view of the highway.
He'd just sit there for a few hours and see if a red truck belonging to Cord Greer came back across the border - and if Cord was minus his brother's girlfriend.
If Cord was alone, then Tessa had to be in Mexico with Hunt.
And an American spy in their country was something Grimes was pretty certain the Mexican government would be interested to know about – for mucho dinero.
The man at the market saw Cord returning and waved. "Honeymooners!" he called.
"She don't like the ring?"
"I like the ring," Tessa told him. "I wanted to see if you had a matching one."
"Claro. Of course. Let me show you."
Cord waited patiently while a ring was selected for Tessa's perusal. Shs agreed that it matched hers, glancing up at him with troubled eyes.
"You're sure you have no problem with this?"
"None at all." He took it from her so he could slide it on his finger. The braided silver band fitted.
Tessa smiled. "Do you like it?"
"It's just fine." He didn't know what else to say about the ring. It was a symbol of commitment. He didn't need the symbol. In his heart, he was completely committed to Tessa. She was the one who didn't seem to quite believe he felt that way.
She paid for the ring with Hester's hundred-dollar bill. That was the only thing that gave him any misgivings. "Your mother meant for you to spend that money on yourself. Not buy me a wedding band. "
Tessa shook her head as American change was counted into her hand. "I'm positive Mama would be thrilled to see a ring on your finger."
She winked at him, a teasing wink, but desire stirred in Cord's belly. He wanted another helping of what they'd shared yesterday in the motel. Holding Tessa was a miracle he never thought he'd experience. Being with Tessa wasn't something he could ever see himself tiring of. She was all he'd ever wanted.
"I've got the ring. Let's go get married. "
There was little ceremony. Basically, it consisted of a blood test and then a brief signing of papers, but Tessa didn't care. She was Cord's wife, and she couldn't imagine being any happier. Unless he loved me.
Love wasn't part of the matrimonial subterfuge. She was destined to get hurt again if she hoped for love. It was a lesson her heart should have learned. A shaky smile was pasted on her face as she looked up.
"Well, that was certainly quick."
"Just the way we wanted it."
It was true, but she missed the You may kiss the bride part. "I don't think I'll feel quite married without the traditional kiss."
He grinned, and she knew he didn't mind the hint.
"I'm a very traditional guy, as you know." He slid an arm around her waist and pulled her close, his other hand cupping her neck. This kiss was traditional, short and sweet because of the spectators in the courthouse, but Tessa closed her eyes and savored the moment anyway.
When they pulled away from each other, he smiled.
"Feel married now?"
"Much more so. Thank you."
He led her outside.
"I don't have to be thanked for kissing you, Tessa. Now, are we on to the honeymoon meal?"
She smiled. "If you don't mind. For some reason, I feel at peace here. Safe. I really would like to take advantage of being in Mexico. Some great Mexican food would be wonderful if that sounds good to you."
"I wouldn't mind a plate of enchiladas myself."
They found a cafe with arched adobe windows and a view of the plaza. The owner was happy to show them to a seat and offer them a menu.
"Cabrito is the especial of the day," she told them.
Tessa raised her eyebrows at Cord.
"Pass on it," he said. "I think you want something more simple."
She saw the twinkle in his eye. "Tell me what I'm passing on."
"Goat."
Her stomach lurched. "I'll take your advice on food matters in the future." He laughed, and
it was the first time she'd ever heard him do it.
"I feel like I'm on a real date."
"Married people should date." He ordered drinks, then pointed to something on the menu for her, which she approved.
"Maybe we'll start dating now, since we skipped the usual preliminaries."
She lowered her eyelashes shyly. Did he mean that? He sounded so…so interested in starting a real relationship with her. As if he hadn't simply done what he considered his duty by marrying her.
"I think I would like that."
He put his hand over hers, rubbing her wrist soothingly. "Everything's going to be better soon, I'm sure."
"But we don't know," she said softly. "That's why we're here. That's why we got married."
"It is, but it doesn't have to be the reason we make a go of it."
"I guess not." She couldn't help but think he was being very chivalrous. The sun was bright, the plaza was filled with happy, brightly dressed people, an occasional child ran to the fountain, and it all couldn't have been more perfect.
Unless it had been a true honeymoon.
Which it was never intended to be.
Cord walked with Tessa's hand in his as they gazed in shop windows. She'd seemed surprised when he caught her fingers, but he wasn't giving her a chance to break loose. One way or the other, he was determined to convince her that the wedding might have been short, but their marriage was going to be of long duration.
When she suddenly turned to him,
her face white, her upper lip beaded with moisture, he made her sit down on the fountain's edge.
"What's wrong?"
"Just a stomachache," she said, obviously uncomfortable. Her skin was so pale in the early afternoon sun, like fine porcelain under too hot a lamp. She was so delicate he wondered how she'd be able to cope with the rigors of childbirth.
The thought made his own stomach lurch. He cupped her shoulders, supporting her. "Do you think it was something you ate?" It had looked and tasted fine to him, but he supposed they might have taken a risk.
She shook her head, her lips thin.
"I don't feel sick to my stomach, but I am... uncomfortable."
"Did it just start?"
"No. It started out as a dull ache while we were walking, but it's become more... oh, no!"
"What? What is it?" His heart jumped into his throat.
"I think...think my water just broke. But that's not possible, is it?"
She put her hands on either side of her stomach. Surely his imagination was playing tricks on him, making her stomach seem even larger than before? He swallowed, his gut suddenly twisting. "Let me help you to the truck. I'll get you back into Texas to a hospital."
"No," she said. "Cord, listen to me. Let's stay here. Please. Let's not go back, at least not for a while. Maybe they'll catch the killers while we're gone. Maybe it will all be over"
"Tessa." He made her stand, then put one arm at the small of her back. "You're not having my baby outside the United States. Come on."
"I don't think we should." Her eyes were wild, dilated with fear. "Cord, I have a bad feeling about this. I don't mind having my baby here. If I had married..." She didn't finish, and he read her meaning.
"If you had married Hunt, what?"
"There's no telling what dot on the world map might have been our child's birthplace. But I seriously doubt it would have been in America. I don't mind having my baby here. I'm sure it's safe and a lot less expensive."
He frowned at her, telling himself to be patient.
"Tessa, you married me, you're having this child in a hospital, and it's going to be born a U.S. citizen."
"Please, Cord. For the first time, I'm relaxing. If we go back, it will start all over again." Her eyes pleaded with him. "Don't you see? We're different people here. It feels like...
