Trap, Secure: Navy SEAL Security

by Carol Ericson

  He placed his hands on his knees, lifting his shoulders. “Why didn’t you tell me your father was involved in dealing drugs?”

  Amy’s jaw dropped. He suspected her of...something, something more than just being the daughter of an imprisoned militia leader. “Wait a minute.”

  He quirked one brow, but his jaw hardened. “I have all the time in the world.”

  “Do you think I had something to do with Carlos’s plans with the Velasquez Cartel?” The words spoken aloud sounded wild, crazy, but this stranger in the expensive getup didn’t even crack a smile.

  “You have to admit, it’s a coincidence. Daughter of a former drug dealer involved with another drug dealer, dead bodies in her house, drugs on her beach.”

  “I wouldn’t call my father a drug dealer.”

  “Defending him?”

  “Never.” She slammed her palms against the picnic table. “That’s not what I meant. Dear old Dad was involved in all kinds of illegal activities. He used the militia front to make his endeavors sound more noble or worthy, but really he just led a cult and engaged in criminal behavior to get money to keep it going.”

  “And one of those illegal activities was dealing drugs.” Riley rubbed a hand across his face and closed his eyes. “What do you expect me to think?”

  “I don’t expect you to think the worst of me. I gave you the benefit of the doubt when I stumbled across you on the beach after you’d just killed a man.”

  He clenched his eyes briefly before opening them. “I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt if you start coming clean.”

  “I am clean.” She spread her hands in front of her as the lie tumbled from her mouth.

  “Why didn’t you say anything about that cigarette holder we found in the storage unit with your father’s initials inscribed on it? You recognized it immediately, didn’t you?”

  Amy pinched the bridge of her nose. “You’re good.”

  “My contacts are good. Did you rush out here to San Miguel to find out if your father had snuck out to facilitate another drug deal and happened to drop his holder?”

  She snorted. “Obviously not. I wanted to find out if anyone had those cigarette holders.”

  “Did he tell you?”

  “He told me to leave it alone.”

  “Maybe he’s looking out for your welfare.”

  Amy laughed, tipping her head back to the sky. “That would be a first.”

  “Someone needs to.”

  Her head snapped forward, and she huffed out a breath. “I think I’m capable of looking out for myself.”

  “In normal circumstances. But these aren’t normal circumstances.”

  “My life has never consisted of normal circumstances. I’m accustomed to drama.”

  “I know.” Riley brushed a lock of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “Foster care must’ve been tough.”

  Amy squared her shoulders, her lips twisting into a halfhearted smile. “It was no picnic, but I got through it—with the help of my friend Sarah.”

  “Good. And now you’re going to get through this with my help.” He chucked her under the chin. “For the first time in your life, maybe you should listen to your father. Stay out of this.”

  “If he’s telling me to butt out, it’s for his own good, not mine. I think I have a right to know who nominated me to be Carlos’s cohort.”

  A crease formed between Riley’s eyebrows. “So you do think your father is mixed up in this?”

  “I’m not sure if he’s involved directly, but he may know something.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “He told me not to get involved, didn’t he? Why would he care otherwise?”

  “Do you think he knows where the cigarette holder came from?”

  Amy caught her breath and grabbed the material of Riley’s dress shirt. “He said something about my siblings.”

  Riley reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He flattened it out on the picnic table, running his finger along the creases. “Is this your family?”

  Amy peered at the picture printed in muddy colors from a laser printer. Her gaze scanned the women and children in the photo and tears pooled in her eyes as she pressed her locket against her chest. Those other women had been like second mothers to her, but the U.S. government had ripped her away from them.

  One fat tear rolled over her lower lid and splashed on the page. “Th-that’s my family. My father’s other wives and their children. I was my mother’s only child. Those are my half siblings.”

  “Are you in touch with any of them?” Riley blotted the circle of moisture with his thumb.

  “No. Social Services took me away from the others because I had a different mother. When I was a child, I had no opportunity to reach them. When I became an adult, I had no desire.”

  Riley’s finger traced along the back row of children in the picture, along the taller kids, the teens. “You must remember them.”

  She flicked at the faces with her finger. “Maisie got the hell out, Ethan was an SOB, Rosalinda married a Mexican national...”

  “Ethan?” Riley swept the photo from the table and held it close to his face.

  She wrinkled her nose. She hadn’t thought about Ethan in years. “Ethan was the oldest and a bully. He idolized Dad.”

  “Did he smoke?”

  “Smoke?” Her heart skipped a beat. Could it really be that easy?

  Riley smacked the photo with his hand. “If he smokes and admired his father, he just might have a cigarette holder with his initials—E.P. Just like Dad.”

  Chapter Eight

  Amy caught her bottom lip between her teeth, and her dark eyes widened. She choked out, “Do you think my half brother is working with Carlos?”

  She had to be one heck of an actress if she was really involved in all this. Riley didn’t give a damn about Eli Prescott or Ethan Prescott, for that matter. A rush of warm relief had flooded his senses once he’d determined that Amy was as unaware and baffled by Carlos’s nefarious connections as she appeared to be that first night on the beach.

  As they peeled back every layer of the onion skin, Amy’s danger from the Velasquez Cartel grew stronger. Had her own half brother set her up? Did they want something from her now?

  “What do you know about your brother, Ethan?”

  “I know I didn’t like him. He bullied the rest of us and worshipped Dad. He almost wanted a confrontation with the Federales. I guess he hadn’t counted on the Mexican government cooperating with the FBI.”

  Amy’s father had to have been involved in some big-time crime for the Feds to step into a foreign country. “Where is he today?”

  Amy shook her head, her long ponytail shimmering in the summer sun.

  Riley folded the printed picture and ran his thumb along the crease. “Did Ethan ever try to contact you?”

  “No. Not that he would’ve gotten very far. I didn’t like him when I was a child. I can’t imagine the raid on the compound and the circumstances of Dad’s arrest would’ve turned him into someone I wanted to know.”

  “In fact, it could’ve turned him into a criminal.”

  “That wouldn’t have been a huge leap for Ethan.”

  “Maybe Ethan was aware of your job and your location and set up the exchange thinking you’d help, given your history with law enforcement.”

  “I guess.” Amy snatched the picture from the picnic table and smoothed it out. “I can’t believe he tracked me down and actually thought I’d meekly agree to stash drugs on the beach.”

  Riley lifted a shoulder. “You guys had the same upbringing. You’re not exactly a big fan of law enforcement, are you?”

  “Distrusting the long arm of the law and engaging in criminal behavior are two different things.”

  “Not to Ethan.” He pointed to the crinkled picture. “Do you want to keep that?”

  “No, thanks.” She shoved it back at him and swung her legs over the bench. “I’m going t
o get back to my friends’ place.”

  “Maybe that’s a good idea. Are you finished sleuthing around?” He hoped so. The more she dug into Carlos’s motives, the more she exposed herself to danger.

  “I just wanted to find out why Carlos used me, and what my father’s cigarette holder was doing in the storage bin. I have answers to both of those questions. I’m done.”

  Riley expelled a breath and crumpled the picture of her family in his fist. He shoved it into his pants’ pocket. Out of sight, out of mind. “Yeah, get back to your friends’ place. That’s the safest place for you. At this point, your involvement is over.”

  Nodding, she blinked rapidly. “I agree. I’m no threat to my brother or his business associates, and I’m certainly no threat to Carlos.”

  A muscle twitched in Riley’s jaw. Was it all just wishful thinking? He couldn’t shake the unanswered questions that threatened Amy’s safety, but he couldn’t shake the dread he felt keeping her with him. Those around him usually ended up burned—or worse.

  “Is something wrong?” Her eyebrows shot up over a pair of wide eyes.

  What happened to his poker face? Riley ran his palm across his smoothly shaven chin. “Why was Carlos at your place after the drop?”

  She jerked her shoulders. “We’ve been through this a million times. Maybe he was on the run and went to the closest place he knew. The guys he ripped off followed him and killed him.”

  “Who’d he rip off—his own associates or their clients? I wonder if the men who killed him ever found what they were looking for.”

  “Well, I can’t help them there.” Amy brushed her hands together and placed them on her hips.

  Did she want him to offer his protection? With his record, she’d be safer on her own. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

  Her shoulders rolled forward before she stalked toward the parking lot. Looked like she didn’t even want this level of protection from him.

  When she reached her car, she spun around and thrust out her hand. “Okay, well, good luck sorting this all out. If you run across my brother, tell him thanks a lot.”

  Definitely didn’t want his protection.

  He took her hand and clasped it between both of his. “I’m sorry I went digging around in your past. I just wanted to make sure—”

  She twisted out of his grip. “You wanted to make sure I wasn’t in cahoots with Carlos. I get it. I’m not the most trustworthy person in the world, and you figured that out pretty quickly.”

  “That’s not true, Amy.” He reached for her hand again and lightly twined his fingers with hers. “I knew you were hiding something about that cigarette holder. I never suspected your complicity before that, and I don’t now.”

  “You don’t have to explain anything, Riley. I know you want to help your friend. I understand that.”

  He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her damp palm. He wanted to do so much more, but her narrowed eyes and stiff spine screamed back off.

  He reached around her and opened the car door. She slid inside, and he held the door. “You have my cell number. If anything happens—if you need any help—give me a call.”

  “I think you’re the one who needs to be careful now.” She snatched the door from his hand and slammed it.

  Riley had no intention of allowing her to peel out of the prison parking lot without him. He could at least make sure no one followed her. He rushed to his car and beat her to the exit. Then he followed her down the highway.

  His gut twisted when she put on her signal to take the next exit. He wanted to keep her with him and protect her.

  Except the last woman who came to him for protection wound up dead.

  Amy beeped her horn as she swerved onto the off-ramp and Riley flashed his lights. She might be done digging for answers, but he’d just begun. And he planned to start with Ethan Prescott.

  When Riley arrived back at his house, he opened his laptop and got on the phone. He may be a dive-boat operator in Cabo, but he still had his law enforcement connections. He started with the San Diego Sheriff’s Department and a former member of Riley’s first SEAL unit, Walt Moreau.

  “What would you spooks do without us regular cops?”

  Riley snorted. “We’d be lost without you, but we spare you the ugly stuff.”

  “Yeah, right. You guys cause us more trouble than you’re worth. I thought you were retired from spying, too.”

  “I did retire. I’m back for an encore. Long story.”

  “I don’t wanna know. What do you need this time?”

  “Ethan Prescott. Does he live here? Does he have a rap sheet? Is he a known drug dealer?”

  Walt swore. “That SOB.” He clicked some keys on his computer. “He’s been in for a few petty crimes, but we can’t nail him on the big stuff. He’s a facilitator. Takes his cut for brokering deals.”

  “Do you have an address on him?”

  “You paying him a social call?”

  “Something like that. I’m real social when I want to be.”

  Walt gave him an address for Prescott in San Diego with his usual admonition. “You didn’t get this from me.”

  Riley punched the address in on his GPS and followed the directions to Amy’s brother’s place in La Jolla, a well-heeled area of San Diego. The house was located near where Amy was staying. Lifestyles of the rich and criminal.

  Riley pulled up across the street from a big, well-lit property. Cars lined the street in front of the house. Dinner party? That would work, and he still had on his slacks and dress shirt from the visit to the penitentiary. Hell, he was feeling social.

  He marched up the walkway and pressed the doorbell. A member of the catering staff answered the door. First class all the way.

  Riley pasted on his smoothest smile. “Good evening.”

  “Do you have an invitation, sir?” The party guests murmured behind him, clinking glasses. Sounded like a blast.

  “Yes.” Riley squared his shoulders and shook out his cuffs.

  The man coughed. “Do you have it with you?”

  Riley patted his pockets. “Looks like I forgot it.”

  “I’m sorry, sir. You have to have an invitation.” The man’s lips pursed as he folded his arms.

  Riley rolled his eyes. Like this dude with his black apron and bow tie was going to keep him away from Ethan Prescott. “I’m sure if you tell Mr. Prescott his sister’s friend is here, he’ll make an exception.”

  “His sister?”

  “Amy.”

  The waiter held up his hand. “Wait here, please.”

  When he walked away, Riley stepped into the foyer and clicked the door behind him. The caterers had gone all out for this party. The smell of sizzling steak made his mouth water, and he closed his eyes as his stomach rumbled in protest. He could’ve at least bought Amy some dinner.

  “You know Amy?”

  The sharp words jerked Riley out of his food fantasies, and his eyelids flew open. The tall, angular man in front of him clutched a wineglass in one hand and a fork in the other.

  Riley’s gaze darted between the hovering caterer and Ethan Prescott’s lean, hard face. “I do.”

  Prescott jerked his thumb at the waiter. “Get lost.”

  He turned back to Riley, his blue eyes glittering. “What do you want?”

  “What do you want? Why are you following me? If you want to kill me for killing one of your guys, here I am.” Riley spread his arms wide and grinned.

  Prescott took a swig of wine and gestured to his left. A tall, beefy guy with a neck like a tree trunk emerged from the shadows. He shoved Riley against the wall and patted him down.

  He grunted, “He’s clean.”

  Riley had more sense than to bring a weapon—or wear a wire—to a dinner party.

  Prescott handed the fork to his henchman and adjusted his collar. “Who are you? CIA? Private investigator? I know you’re not law enforcement. They’re too polite to barge in unannounced like this.”

  “Yeah,
I’m not polite at all.” Riley smoothed his shirt. “I’m investigating another case and the Velazquez deal crossed into my radar, and then you crossed into my radar.”

  “I’m not following you, and that wasn’t one of my guys. I’m just the broker. I don’t give a rat’s ass what happens to the two parties.”

  “Why did you involve your sister?”

  Prescott swirled his wine. “You want a glass?”

  “No.” Riley shoved a clenched fist in his pocket. “Your sister?”

  “I needed to find a drop location. That storage bin looked perfect, and I needed access. Pretty simple. I thought I could get her to work with me. I know she has no love for law enforcement, but Dad figured she wouldn’t give me the time of day. So I used my charming friend, Carlos.”

  Riley scooped in a deep breath. Amy was just a means to an end. Nothing more. “What do you think happened to Carlos?”

  “He disappeared.”

  “He’s dead.”

  Prescott clicked his tongue. “This is a high-risk business. That’s why I have bodyguards.”

  “If Carlos double-crossed someone, doesn’t that put you at risk? He was your guy.”

  Prescott lifted one eyebrow. “Not really. Velasquez had used him before. I did my part. They can try to come after me, but Carlos is the one who took the clients’ money.”

  Riley whistled. “Is that what happened? The Velasquez Cartel entrusted Carlos with the money to give to the terrorists in exchange for the drugs, and he stole it instead?”

  Prescott whistled back. “You’re good. I didn’t even know the identity of the clients.”

  “Did the so-called clients get their money back when they murdered Carlos?”

  A smile spread across Prescott’s face, and Riley flinched at the pure evil emanating from the man. How could he and Amy be related? They didn’t even seem like the same species.

  “No, I don’t believe they did get their money back.”

  “Is that why they’re still on my tail? They think I have it or something?” Riley clenched his jaw. He’d have to disabuse them of that notion—fast.