Classified

by Debra Webb

  The big-mouthed goon slammed the fridge door, still blustering as if he were the jefe around here. According to him, now there was no way to say for sure until daylight if Casey and Stark had fallen into a mine shaft or one of the de basura holes.

  She had thought as much. The hole hadn’t been a mine shaft. It had been a hole for illegally disposing of garbage.

  In her peripheral vision she saw Stark make his move. The smug guy standing crumpled to the floor when hit with the tire iron. His sweatshirt-sporting friend shot up, his chair toppling over. Casey bolted forward and whacked him on the head with the beer bottle in her right hand. Glass shattered on the floor. When he turned and made a dive at her, his gun already palmed, she gave him another smack with the one in her left. He crashed the same way his amigo had.

  Casey tugged the 9mm from the guy closest to her and tucked it into the waistband of her skirt at the small of her back. Her mind already two steps ahead, she shuffled through the drawers of the chest until she had four shirts to use in securing the buttwads on the floor. She pitched two Stark’s way.

  Working swiftly, they didn’t speak until they tied the goons’ hands behind their backs, then secured the makeshift tether to their bound ankles. Getting loose wouldn’t be so easy. Socks stuffed in their mouths would ensure they didn’t sound an alarm for their boss.

  Stark placed his hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him, hoping he didn’t notice the quiver his touch had evoked. Why the heck did she keep doing that? “Slow and quiet,” he warned. “We want him alive and talking.”

  Maybe it shouldn’t have, but his cautionary advice ticked her off. She hadn’t planned to go in guns-a-blazing. He sounded like her superiors at the Agency. “Got it.”

  She shrugged off his touch and moved to the door. She wasn’t reckless; she was bold…brave…unflinching. If she gave off that vibe, what of it? She was glad. She wasn’t weak, so why pretend?

  The wind had picked up outside. Raising her hand to her face, Casey protected her eyes from the sand that might be flying around. She and Stark reached the main house without incident. Hopefully that meant Fernandez had either retired for the evening or wasn’t near any of the windows that faced the back of his property.

  At the same window where they’d been before, Casey carefully peeked inside. Fernandez had slumped into a large wing chair with a tall glass. Judging by the small amount of golden liquid that remained, he was on his way to exceedingly relaxed.

  Tequila could steal the roar from a lion. It had helped many find the floor.

  Casey considered their options and decided that the straightforward approach would be the most efficient method of achieving their goal. She crouched down below the window and waited for Stark to join her.

  “I’m guessing the back door was left unlocked.”

  Stark nodded, to her surprise. “If he hears us, he’ll think it’s one of them.” He jerked his head toward the bunkhouse.

  True. “He certainly won’t be expecting us.” The sweetest kind of revenge. She was going to enjoy this, as long as Stark didn’t get in her way.

  Casey stayed down until she was clear of the window. A few seconds were required to reach the back of the house. She flattened against the wall and listened. The silence bugged her a little. Too bad Fernandez wasn’t watching a favorite movie or playing a few tunes. Going for a quiet entrance could backfire if the floor creaked or she bumped into something. The rooms at the back of the house were dark. The smarter move would be to go in loud, like the locos out in the bunkhouse.

  Stark faced her from the opposite side of the rear entrance. Casey held up one finger, then two. He was braced to move on three. She didn’t bother with three. She barged through the door, too fast for Stark to snatch her back.

  The back door led straight into the kitchen. She stamped into the wide entry hall that appeared to connect the kitchen to the front rooms. She took a position next to a towering cabinet with glass doors. Behind the glass were all manner of exquisite art pieces. At least the lying scumbag had decent taste.

  The hall was wide and dimly lit by the light valiantly stretching across the floor from the front room where Fernandez had been lounging.

  “What the hell do you want now?” Fernandez howled. “I told you to get out!”

  Stoneware crashed on the floor of the kitchen. Stark. Casey grinned. He got it. Her new partner was luring the prey from his safety zone.

  “If you broke anything important,” Fernandez promised, the sound of his voice growing nearer, “I will make you eat it and laugh as you bleed to death.” Obviously he saw using English with his thugs at moments like this as a way to prove his superiority.

  One step…two… He passed right in front of her position and she stepped out to press the muzzle of the borrowed 9mm to his temple. “Maybe you’ll be the one bleeding to death.” She sighed with all the drama she could muster. “Afraid I couldn’t lose my tracker.”

  Stark flipped on the overhead light, the 9mm he’d snagged zeroed in on Fernandez’s head.

  “I guess you’ll just have to deal with it,” Casey said with a nudge of the muzzle.

  Fernandez said nothing for a moment, his lips twisted in anger. “My order was to tell you nothing.”

  “Who gave the order?” Stark demanded before Casey could. He took a menacing step toward Fernandez. She had to admit that he looked plenty threatening.

  “I cannot say!” Fernandez shook his head frantically. “She will kill me!”

  “No problem,” Casey offered generously. Her grip tightened on the weapon and she widened her stance. “I’ll just put you out of your misery now and you can stop worrying about that.”

  “No. Wait.”

  Casey tossed Stark a look that loudly transmitted her exasperation. His announcement startled her almost as much as it irritated her. Fernandez, on the other hand, sagged with relief.

  “Get the broken platter,” Stark ordered.

  Casey smiled. Oh, he had a twisted side she hadn’t expected. “This should be interesting.”

  She backed toward the kitchen, a bead held steady on her target even as she moved past Stark’s position.

  In the kitchen she flipped on a light and shoved her weapon into the waistband of her damaged skirt. While she squatted down and gathered a few choice pieces of pottery, she heard Stark ushering Fernandez into a chair. When she returned to the hall, a chair had been placed in the center of the rectangular space and Fernandez was secured there. His crisp white shirt served as a tether. Smart move to stay in the hall away from the windows of the other rooms since there were no window coverings. If either of the goofballs got loose, she and Stark wouldn’t be open targets.

  “Feed him,” Stark said without sparing her a glance.

  Casey wouldn’t have liked his heavy-handedness if she weren’t enjoying this so much. She strolled over to Fernandez and offered a sizeable chunk of what used to be a serving platter. The pattern suggested a local artisan. This was going to be a waste of good stoneware. Fernandez drew his face away from her, his mouth clamped shut.

  Stark pressed the barrel of his weapon to Fernandez’s forehead. “Open your mouth.”

  Leaning back far enough to topple over, Fernandez shook his head adamantly.

  Casey rolled her eyes. “Just shoot him. I’m bored with the whole subject.”

  Stark shrugged. “Whatever you say.”

  “Wait!” Fernandez looked from Casey to Stark and back. “If I tell you and she finds out, she will—”

  “You said that already.” Casey really was getting bored.

  Fernandez heaved a labored breath. “The person you’re looking for lives in Acapulco.” He shook his head as he spouted off the address. “She is blonde. Like you,” he said with a toss of his head toward Casey. “She works as a dancer and choreographer at a club called Delicia. Her name is Alayna. She can tell you anything you want to know about this man you call Keaton.” Fernandez made eye contact with Casey. “Believe me when I say to you th
at she knows the answers you seek.”

  “We need a last name.” What good was a first name? Acapulco was a big city. Casey rolled her eyes. Did he think they were stupid enough to let him off with nothing more than that? She could just imagine what kind of place Delicia was. The name itself meant pleasure.

  “She has no last name,” Fernandez explained with another of those annoying half laughs. “Not that anyone knows, I assure you. However, you must trust me when I say that you will have no trouble finding her. Everyone knows Alayna.”

  “You could be lying as easily as telling the truth,” Stark countered, the weapon creasing Fernandez’s forehead once more. “Give me one good reason I should trust you after you tried to kill us.”

  Oddly, Fernandez smiled but it lacked his usual confidence. “That is always the case in this sort of business, Señor Stark. Surely you have encountered this tedious detail before.”

  Out of patience, Casey drew the weapon from her waistband and poked Fernandez in the head just for the fun of it. “So you don’t have a problem with our coming back here to settle the score if you’re lying, right?”

  Fernandez shook his head again. “Ah, chiquita, but I will not be here if you return.”

  Uncertainty trickled into her veins. There was something way off with this guy. Besides the fact that he was a lying, cheating, thieving piece of subhuman slime.

  “You see,” Fernandez explained, staring directly into Casey’s eyes, “when she learns what I have done, she will kill me. As for your one good reason to trust me after recent events—” he shrugged one shoulder “—what other choice do you have?”

  He was right about that. “I wouldn’t worry about her if I were you,” Casey pointed out. “Your problem is me.” She remembered Stark a second too late. “And him.” So much for being a team player. Chancing a glance in his direction was out of the question. “If you’re lying, we will hunt you down and make you wish you’d chosen more wisely.”

  “No matter where you hide,” Stark added with a smile that was anything but pleasant.

  Fernandez laughed long and loudly, dragging Casey’s full attention back to him. “I will have no reason to fear the two of you if you find her.” He shook his head, his eyes wild with something like hysteria.

  “You underestimate us, sir,” Stark said, the same fury smoldering in his voice that was currently coming to a hard boil inside Casey. “You should be very afraid.”

  “What is there to fear from the dead?” Fernandez proposed. “If you find her, you will not live to share her secrets with anyone.”

  Chapter Seven

  October 12, 2:45 a.m.

  “We’ll take the truck.” Levi strode in that direction as he spoke. He’d checked and the gas gauge was close to full, unlike the other vehicle which had less than half a tank. The sooner they were out of here, the better he would feel. No matter that they had taken all three of the men’s cell phones and there was no house phone, he couldn’t count on Fernandez’s word that a call wouldn’t be made as soon as one or all were loose.

  “I’ll get the truck,” Casey said, rushing ahead of him. “Disable the Jeep. Fernandez may have another set of keys we don’t know about.”

  Changing directions, Levi agreed, “Good idea.” The lady continued to impress him. Good thing the Jeep was an older model because he was no mechanic. Since most of his college buddies had driven older vehicles and pranks were often a rite of passage, Levi knew exactly how to do this and no tools were needed. He ripped out the plug wires and the coil wire to the distributor cap, just to make it a little more complicated. Either one would have done the trick. Getting parts at this hour wouldn’t be easy, particularly out here.

  He tossed the wires into the bed of the truck and started to climb into the driver’s seat. Casey had already taken that position.

  “I’ll drive.”

  He gave her a nod and hustled around to the other side. “Where we headed?”

  “Back to the hotel.” She shoved the gearshift into Drive and roared down the dirt road. “I’ll grab my stuff.” She pointed to the bench seat where her purse sat between them. “They went through my bag but everything seems to be there, including my credit cards.”

  Levi was about to suggest they didn’t leave a paper trail by using credit cards when she interrupted the thought with, “I always carry plastic under a couple of aliases in case I need them.”

  Who was this chick? “I’m not asking you to name your client,” he said as the truck bounced out onto the main road, “but are you a contractor, P.I. or what?”

  “What difference does it make?”

  “Maybe none.” He braced against his door as she floored the accelerator and sent the old pickup charging forward. “I’m more curious than anything.”

  “Well.” She exhaled a big breath. “This mission isn’t for my employer. It’s for a…friend. Technically I’m on vacation.”

  Sounded familiar. “That’s funny, so am I.”

  She sent him a lingering, sideways glance. Too bad there wasn’t enough light to get some idea what she was thinking. He didn’t have to wonder long.

  “That is funny.”

  Ah, suspicion. Just what he needed to sustain her cooperation. “What’s the plan?” Letting her think she had the lead might alleviate the tension along with some of her suspicions.

  Another of those long looks arrowed his way. “You’re asking me?” She focused on the road a second or two, then asked, “Did you have something in mind?”

  “I’m at the same hotel as you, by the way,” he offered, sidestepping her question. In reality, there was only one strategy—find this Alayna and get some answers—but he supposed there were a number of ways one could go about that step.

  “Good. We can get our stuff and get out of Pozos before Fernandez sends his pals this way.”

  That was assuming those pals hadn’t cleared out their stuff at the hotel. Levi doubted they’d had the opportunity but there could be others working for Fernandez.

  With Casey focused on driving, Levi used the opportunity to study her. Not that he could make out the finer details in the dark, but he focused on those he already knew better than he should.

  Not good, Levi. She was the competition on this mission. Their alliance might be in place for only as long as it took to attain the information on Keaton. There was no way just yet to guess how things would go down from there. If he was lucky, he would have some measure of her ultimate intent before then.

  His primary mission, other than to gain the information, was to protect Victoria’s identity. Whatever else happened, he had to keep her secret safe.

  THE VILLAGE OF POZOS WAS tucked in for the night as Casey parked the truck on the street near the entrance of their hotel. The lack of street lamps to chase away the shadows would serve them well. The fewer who witnessed their movements the better.

  “The less time we spend here,” he recommended as she opened the driver’s side door, “the less likely we are to run into trouble.”

  “Absolutely.”

  She was out of the truck and headed for the entrance by the time his feet hit the cobblestone street. As usual, he followed her path. That was apparently going to be the MO for this team. He watched her softly curved hips sway and decided following wasn’t such a hardship.

  The lobby was as silent as this ghost town had been just a few years back. The main entry doors as well as the windows were open, allowing the night breeze to play with the drapes and the wind chimes. The otherwise quiet rattled Levi’s nerves. Or maybe it was the idea that they’d come back here knowing time was their enemy.

  It was four hours minimum to Acapulco. A lot could happen in four hours, like Fernandez sending a warning to this Alayna they needed to find. Somehow Levi believed him when he said he was afraid of her. Maybe Fernandez would take off, as he’d said, allowing him a head start before Alayna learned of his treachery.

  “Meet you at the truck in five minutes,” Casey whispered when they reach
ed the second-floor landing.

  Levi was on this floor, too, but on the opposite end of the building. He’d checked into the mystery woman who’d been asking questions about Keaton as soon as he’d learned of her from Fernandez. Casey had arrived in a rental car and was in room four. She was American and blonde. That was the extent of the available info a dozen hours ago.

  He didn’t know much more about her now…which was exactly why splitting up was a bad idea. “We should stick together.” She stared at him like he’d lost his mind. “Just in case.”

  Her gaze narrowed. “Sure. Yeah. Good idea.” She gave him her back and hurried along the corridor.

  She’d seen right through that one. He probably would’ve been disappointed if she hadn’t. She’d been damned sharp so far.

  She dug the key to her room from the funky bag she carried. Really worn leather with fringe on the flap that closed over the bag’s zipper. Cute, kind of.

  “Gimme ninety seconds.”

  “I’ll be right here.” Levi leaned against the open door frame so he could keep an eye on the hall outside the room. Casey dashed around the room snatching up discarded clothes. She pulled out the bottom drawer of the night table next to her bed and removed a 9mm. Lifting her skirt, she removed a thigh holster before tucking them both into her bag, then she moved to the desk.

  If she could pull her stuff together in ninety seconds he would really be impressed. In his experience, women generally had their stuff strewn all over a place like they were marking their territory. He, on the other hand, would grab his carry-on bag and be good to go. And men were the ones accused of marking their territory. Not the case at all when it came to living space.

  “I’m ready. Where’s your room?”

  Startled from his men-travel-light musings, he straightened from the door and glanced around the room. “You got everything?”