Marcia had no idea if either Ramón or Clint would willingly accompany her on a shopping trip or not. The question had never come up. Today was no measure because the men were deep into their investigation, and she, for one, was going to be very happy when they finally had that bastard Torres behind bars.
From Chanel, Daisy led her to the other side of the wing they were in and down a couple of stores. Marcia had heard of Jimmy Choo, of course. She’d just never been inside the store or seen so very many fancy shoes in one place. Daisy let a few little moans escape as she went from display to display. She tried on a couple of pumps with impossibly high heels—and bought two pairs.
Marcia didn’t get the whole shoe thing, either, but that was beside the point. She could admire them, even as she had no desire to purchase any. There were several very pretty flats, which she would have considered first, as well as a couple of very tall leather boots.
Of course, she might consider a pair of those impossibly high heels, too, as long as she didn’t have to wear them outside of the playroom or bedroom. That thought, and the ones that came swiftly on its heels, put a touch of pink on her face she could feel.
Marcia did like to spend time looking at the sparkly and the shiny, and even went into Tiffany’s and Bulgari. She didn’t know what it said about human society that Microsoft had a store in the Galleria, right between Armani and Valentino.
“Don’t you want to get anything?” Daisy looked completely confused by the fact that, so far, Marcia had only just admired all the items she’d seen. Rory already held several bags bestowed on him by Daisy.
“I’m having fun just being here. It’s an entirely refreshing change from the last couple of weeks.”
Daisy frowned. Marcia didn’t want her to feel sorry for her. She placed her hand on her friend’s arm and rubbed lightly. “I know it’s necessary, being out of sight for the most part, not just because I want to be kept safe but mostly because my being safe makes it easier for Ramón and Clint to focus on the case instead of worrying about me. So, please don’t feel too bad for me.”
“You wondered if you really were a natural submissive? I can tell you that you are because your first priority was easing the worry for your Doms, and not seeing to your own comfort.”
Marcia had received few compliments in her life and very few that made her feel as good as that one. She let that compliment sit and soothe as they continued to go from store to store. In between, Daisy and Rory were discussing lunch, and it seemed a toss-up between a steak restaurant and one that specialized in seafood.
They turned to her, clearly expecting her to break the tie.
“I really am good with either one, but since Rory’s been such a good sport about ushering us about, let’s make it the steakhouse.”
“There, now, see? Daisy is right. You are a good submissive.” His pat on the shoulder was followed by a smile that told her he really did appreciate her choice.
The restaurant had a wonderfully relaxed atmosphere, which surprised her because she could tell it wasn’t a simple restaurant but an upscale eatery.
Marcia sighed as she got comfortable in her chair. Her neck and shoulders had become tense, had been, in fact, since she’d stepped into the mall. She’d almost thought that someone had been looking at her. Probably, she was being paranoid. Marcia decided to set her worries aside. No one was following her, watching her. Rory was a trained bodyguard. He’d know if there was danger about.
Her cell phone beeped. There were only three people who had her cell number, and she was having lunch with one of them.
“I’m sorry.” She looked up at Daisy and Rory even as she lifted her cell phone out of her purse.
“If it’s one of your Doms, no apology necessary,” Rory said.
“One or both of us will be checking in with ours.” Daisy grinned.
Clint’s text asked her if she was having a good time. She sent a quick response that they’d stopped for lunch and that she was enjoying the time out.
Clint texted back that they’d be done in a couple of hours. She sent him a heart and a smile.
“You’re smiling so I take it you’ll be going home with them tonight?”
Marcia met Daisy’s gaze. “Am I that obvious? That I miss them?”
Daisy’s quick smile made her face shimmer. “Only to someone who knows the look because I’ve seen it in my mirror more than a time or two in the past.”
“But not for the last three years.” Rory’s smile was aimed at Daisy, and his voice had gone softer, his brogue a little more pronounced.
“No, not for the last three years.”
The waiter arrived and asked if they wanted anything to drink. Marcia decided to treat herself to a glass of Chablis. Rory abstained, but Daisy ordered a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon.
“Any idea what you want to eat?” Rory asked.
“I read the words ‘lobster bisque’ and immediately began to salivate. And I’m going to follow that with the cheeseburger. Steak for lunch is more than I’m used to.”
“This is Texas,” Rory said. “You can have steak for breakfast, lunch, and supper—and all in the same day, if you like.”
“I like steak and eggs for breakfast once in a while,” Marcia said. “But then I likely won’t eat after that until supper.”
“I’m having the jumbo crab cake and the chicken Caesar salad.” Daisy closed her menu and set it center table.
Marcia set hers on top.
“So, Miss Marcia, you haven’t bought anything yet,” Rory laughed. “I don’t know whether to be impressed or worried.”
Marcia shrugged. “I haven’t seen anything that really calls out to me, yet. If I do, you can bet I’ll buy it. I don’t shop often. But I’ve become very good at managing my money so that, when I want to, I can.”
“I understand completely. Daisy, here, grew up with the proverbial silver spoon. I, on the other hand, scrambled for my pence and my pound in a very rough neighborhood in Dublin.”
“I was on my own fairly young,” Marcia admitted. “That meant growing up, fast.”
“Believe it or not, I think you both had it better than I did. I’m not touting the proverbial ‘poor little rich girl’ cliché. But it did take me longer to figure out how to take care of myself than I suspect it took either of you. And once I did, well, I met Christopher and Rory. I didn’t know a lot, but I knew they were my home.”
Marcia thought about how she’d felt the first moment she set eyes on Ramón. And then, again, that day—was it only a couple of weeks ago?—when he and Clint had walked through the door together. She guessed she was falling in love with them. But the sense of home? Yes. Marcia reached for the glass of wine the waiter set down before her.
Clint’s text had let her know they’d pick her up in a couple of hours. Her first thought was that she’d be going home, so she could definitely relate.
Chapter 15
Joe performed the introductions. Ramón recalled meeting Peter Alvarez-Kendall when he attended the engagement party for Iris, Rich, and Donny Kendall at Lusty Appetites a few weeks back. It didn’t surprise him, when he thought about it, that if Joe wanted to reach out to someone at the DEA he trusted, it would be his cousin-by-marriage, Peter.
According to Rich Kendall, just about everyone who lived in the small town of Lusty was family—by heart, if not by actual blood.
Ramón had been orphaned young and had lived most of his teen years in an orphanage because there had been no family for him except his sister, María. He didn’t know what that would be like, having an entire town full of family. He knew some people who’d find it intrusive. Ramón thought it must be a great blessing, to have support when you needed it.
Because he’d been curious, he’d done a small amount of digging into the history of the Benedicts, Kendalls, and Jessops. The families of Lusty, Texas, apparently were also families of great wealth. He’d been surprised by that because there was nothing about the people he’d met that shouted “entitled.
”
“We’re meeting here because it’s central and the family owns it.” Joe led the way to the elevator reserved for the penthouse floor at Benedict Towers. This hotel/apartment complex was one of those places in Houston that everyone knew about just because it was owned by the same people who owned Benedict Oil and Minerals.
Big, posh, and expensive. That was Ramón’s first impression. That impression was underlined when he got a look inside penthouse suite A.
“This is one of two that are reserved, full-time, for family,” Joe said. “Like the rest of the resources owned by the Lusty Town Trust, use is first come, and it doesn’t matter who you are in the family, either.”
“Using this as our meeting site gives us the added bonus of being completely secure.” Peter grinned. “We run full time anti-surveillance measures in the penthouses. Go ahead and look around for a couple minutes. I need to make a quick phone call before we can get started.”
“This apartment has two master bedroom suites,” Joe said. “Like Peter said, feel free to snoop. I’ll get the sweet tea out because, frankly, I could use some.”
Ramón thought that was an odd offer, considering they were there for FBI business. He turned to Clint to ask him if he thought it was weird, too. His partner anticipated his question.
“I asked Joe if it would be all right if we took a little tour. I wanted you to see something. Come with me.”
Ramón followed him down the hall to the end. The door stood open, and Ramón understood Clint’s motives, once he got a look at the bed.
“I’ve seen the master suite at Adam, Jake, and Ginny’s house, but I knew you had no idea of the possibilities.”
“That is the biggest bed I have ever seen in my life. I honestly had no idea they came that large.”
Clint grinned. “They’re custom-made for families that would have three, or even four, in the marriage bed. There are also custom-made linens for the beds.” Clint nodded toward what Ramón figured out was the attached bathroom and whistled when he got an eyeful of the shower.
“The shower and claw foot tub are also specially made. The Jacuzzi, however, is a standard size.” Clint paused, for just a moment. “Ramón, I was thinking.”
Clint exhaled, and Ramón knew whatever he was thinking it was serious.
“About?” Ramón leaned against the door jamb separating the bedroom and bathroom. His hands in his pockets, he put his full attention on his brother.
“About if things work out for the three of us. We might want to think about renting or buying a house and investing in some custom-made furniture and fixtures.”
Ramón didn’t know if he was quite there yet, but it didn’t surprise him one bit that Clint was. “Thanks for showing me these. Now I have a better idea.” He used his hands to indicate both rooms. “Something like this would be a lot more comfortable for the three of us than making do with what we have now. It’s certainly something to think about.”
“Yeah.” Clint chuckled. “I’m trying not to spend too much time thinking about it. Guess we better get back to the others and down to business.”
Peter was just finishing his call when they entered the dining room. Joe had set out the sweet tea as well as a plate of cream puffs.
Peter pointed to the plate. “My wife Tracy sent those, and I had to sneak them past my brother-in-law, Henry, who’d stopped by and was sniffing around. So I hope you gentlemen appreciate them.”
Clint rubbed his hands together. “Hot damn. Ginny served these one time when I was visiting them. My taste buds were certain they were in heaven.”
“Jordan and I committed to putting in extra work-out time, just so our wife wouldn’t cut down on the baked goods.” Peter grinned.
“She’s got a hell of a talent,” Joe said. He snagged one of the pastries then looked like he was settling in.
“I just got off the phone with my boss at the field office in Dallas.” Peter addressed Joe primarily, which was no less than Ramón had expected. “I explained the situation to him and got his approval for me to facilitate things, depending on which direction y’all are headed.”
“Good to know, thanks, Peter.” Joe looked at Ramón and Clint. “Go ahead and fill Peter in on your meeting last night with your contact.”
“Mac—Patrick MacGyver, an old friend of mine from the Corps—called me early yesterday because he knew I’d worked a couple of cases involving human trafficking, specifically women smuggled into the country from Mexico and then used in the sex trade. A few days ago, he found a young woman half in the river at the back of his property. She was unconscious, bleeding from a gunshot wound on her shoulder and with other injuries, and had apparently pulled herself mostly out of the water before collapsing.”
Ramón joined in, and the two of them laid out what they had so far, which was everything they’d learned from their visit with MacGyver and Consuela Lopez, including the area she’d lived in and the names of her brother and the man he’d sold her to.
“I recognized the name Luis Ortiz. I’d come across it before but hadn’t realized the man was in Mexico.” Ramón paused. He didn’t want to say that it had been rumored the man had been involved in the trade back when his sister had been taken. “I’d also like to say that the fact that Miss Lopez didn’t jump at the chance to get a green card only underscores her integrity, in my opinion,” Ramón said. “She’s more worried about her younger siblings, and the other young girls that she saw in the trucks on her journey, than she is about profiting for her own future.”
“It’s not generally known, but we have an agent in that area,” Peter said. “He’s been working undercover for nearly a year. The thing is, the agency has come to believe that the group involved in human trafficking from that part of Mexico is also one that’s running drugs into the country. That’s why Torres is on our watch list, as well as the FBI’s. I can set up a virtual meeting with our agent and ask him what he knows of this Luis Ortiz, as well as Miguel Lopez. Our guy has been on the fringes of that group. It might be that Ortiz could turn out to be a string, one that he can tug.”
“I’d like to get a team together and have a look for that house Consuela was held in, in Brandy.” Clint leaned forward. “We should be able to recognize the area of the town, seeing as the same small river runs through it as the one that runs through the back of Mac’s land.”
“Consuela is certain she ran left from the house, crossed one narrow street, and then was into a field. There was no fence between the grass and the water where she fell in.” Ramón shrugged. “I’ve never been to that town, but Clint could take a look around, discreetly. Consuela said she’d recognize the place if she saw it again. He can show her pictures of the houses easily enough using his cell phone.”
“Are you hoping to locate the house and then have someone keep it under surveillance?” Joe asked Clint.
“Yeah. I think my boss would be interested in doing just that.” Clint said. “I don’t believe they used it as a one-time stop. That could be risky for them. I’m betting it’s a regular staging area for that gang, one they obviously feel comfortable using since some of the men felt free to…party.”
“I’ll give him a call when we’re done here and see what he thinks. In the meantime, Ramón, you have that meeting with Torres and his suppliers in a couple days. I want you to have that tracker in place tomorrow morning. Dr. Robert Jessop will be at your apartment along with an industry tech around nine to do that.”
“It won’t hurt, amigo.” Clint patted him on the shoulder. “We did the same thing with the family dog just last year. That mutt barely whimpered.”
Ramón laughed. “Smartass.” He really didn’t know if wearing a tracking device was necessary. But he’d learned long ago both to follow orders and to err on the side of caution. Rarely did those two impulses conflict, one with the other, but it happened. Clint pulled out his cell phone, and Ramón knew he was checking up on their woman. He wanted nothing more than to finish up here and then go get her and t
ake her home.
“All right. I’m going to tell Marcia when they arrive that it’s standard operating procedure. She doesn’t need to know that it isn’t. I don’t want her worried any more than she already is.”
Joe shrugged. “In my opinion, it should be S.O.P. It’s a pretty sad world when we can tag our pets but not our kids or our undercover agents.”
“Law or no, I’m tagging mine, when I have them.” Clint nodded. “Kids, that is. I just have to find someone who’ll do it for me.”
“I hear you. When the time comes, just give me a call.” Peter Alvarez-Kendall and his partners had one child, a toddler named Cameron. “We’ll get it done.”
Just the way Peter said that told Ramón that the people of Lusty didn’t take any chances with their loved ones, the law be damned. It was an attitude Ramón approved of, one hundred percent.
* * * *
Marcia trembled, the shaking a matter of emotions and needs within her having reached a critical mass. As soon as the apartment door closed behind them, she lost all sense of patience and roles.
She flung herself at Ramón, who caught her and pulled her close. She hadn’t planned it, but she couldn’t stop the flood once it started. “Please, please, please. I need—”
His arms, strong and sure, surrounded her. “Hush, mi ángel. We know what you need.”
“I’m shaking, and I want to cry, and I feel like I’m going to go crazy! Do something, damn it!” She couldn’t call back the tone or the sob that ended her demand.
Clint pressed himself against her back, set his hands on her hips, and nuzzled her ear. “We know what you need. You need to remember who demands and who submits.”
Clint’s words, their tone, shivered down her spine. She felt, for one glorious moment, the imprint of two hard cocks, one in front of her and one behind.
Avenging Angel [Tales from the Lyon's Den 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 14
