Caught in the Act

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Caught in the Act Page 17

by Jill Sorenson


  She studied him for a moment, bemused by his polite query. He had no qualms about being dishonest, spying on her, or urging her down on her knees, but he was enough of a gentleman to ask for a kiss?

  She turned her head slightly, brushing her lips over the pad of his thumb. “No.”

  His gaze darkened at the subtle caress. Never in her life had Kari said no when she meant yes, but he seemed to understand what she wanted. For some reason, a bit of forcefulness turned them both on.

  He slid his hand into her hair, holding her in place as he brought his lips to hers. It was a tasting kiss, light and sensual. Instead of crushing their mouths together, he licked her parted lips and teased her seeking tongue.

  His earlier kisses had been about thrusting his tongue deep, filling her mouth. This kiss was like oral sex for her.

  And if he did that as well as he did this … OMG.

  “I think I need another shower,” she said when he broke contact.

  He groaned, glancing at the front of her house. “Let me in.”

  “No.”

  His eyes returned to hers. “No, as in ‘break down the door and ravage me, bad boy’?”

  “No, as in definitely not.” Kissing her fingertips, she touched his taut cheek. “Goodnight.”

  15

  Maria glanced in the mirror before she left the house, wondering if she should change back into her old clothes.

  The hand-me-down dress was sexy, she supposed, with its black and red floral design and the thin straps that crisscrossed over her back. Although it wasn’t Maria’s size, the stretchy fabric conformed nicely to her smaller frame. Kari said it suited her coloring better, too.

  Shrugging, she put on her “cute” shoes, a pair of simple black flats. Tossing her pepper spray in her purse, she walked out into the sultry night.

  She hadn’t picked up any new information at the hotel this week. She hadn’t summoned up the nerve to ask Armando about Sasha, either. He seemed like a decent person, not an emotionless monster, but Maria didn’t feel safe around him.

  Even so, Kari needed help, and Maria wanted to do her part. While her friend was feeling out Officer Cortez, Maria could seek advice from Agent Foster. As far as she was concerned, he was an untapped resource.

  She had his phone number written down on a scrap of paper in her purse. He hadn’t given it to her, of course, and he wasn’t pleased by her call. His brusque tone had hurt her feelings a little, but it hadn’t surprised her. He was in a dark place in his life. She got the impression that he wanted to hide from her.

  Sighing, she picked up the pace, arriving at the café a few minutes early. Foster was already there, waiting by a bike rack outside. His clothes weren’t quite as ragged as usual, but he still looked like a rough character, a rawboned thug. His jaw was scruffy and his black T-shirt sported a tear near the hem.

  He waited for her to come forward, his eyes wary.

  “Let’s go there instead,” he said, jerking his chin toward a dive bar across the street.

  She stared at the low-class establishment, hesitating. Nice girls didn’t go to bars like that. Denny’s looked so innocuous and well-lit in comparison.

  “We can drink soda. No one will bother you.”

  “Okay,” she said, following him.

  He put a hand on her bare shoulder, leading her to a booth in the corner. A couple of gray-haired bikers watched her pass by, their eyes bold. Foster ignored them, so she lifted her chin and tried to look classy. After gesturing for her to sit with her back to the bar, he slid into the space across from her. A waitress came to take their drink order.

  “Two Cokes?” Foster requested, glancing at Maria.

  She nodded at the waitress, a chubby woman with exaggerated makeup. “Fine.”

  “Any rum for yours, honey?”

  “No thanks.”

  Disappointed, she left to fill the order.

  Maria studied Foster while they waited. His eyes looked bloodshot, but the muddy green color was still nice. The keen intelligence was still there.

  “I don’t have any money,” he said.

  “I’ll pay for the drinks.”

  He gave her an impatient look. “That’s not what I meant.”

  The waitress appeared with two Cokes, two napkins, and two paper-covered straws. Maria thanked her and turned her attention back to Foster. “I need help, not money.”

  “Do I look like I’m in a position to help anyone?”

  “Agent Foster would not deny me.”

  He leaned forward, lowering his voice. “Agent Foster doesn’t exist.”

  She unwrapped her straw and slipped it into her glass. “What do I call you?” she asked, taking a small sip.

  His gaze rose from her lips. “You don’t.”

  “Bueno,” she said, getting annoyed. “I understand now. When you need help, I am there. When I ask for a favor, you are not.”

  “What do you want?” he growled.

  “Advice.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Yes.”

  He glanced around the bar, deliberating. “Have you mentioned my name at the hotel?”

  “No! I’m not stupid, señor. I would never do anything to danger you.”

  The corner of his mouth lifted, as if she’d said something funny. “What kind of advice do you need?”

  “My friend is in trouble with the law,” she said.

  “Is she a citizen?”

  “Yes. She brought me here. Entiendes?”

  “Sí,” he said shortly. “Do you owe her money for that?”

  “No, no. Just gratitud.”

  He rubbed a hand over his shadowed jaw. “Go on.”

  “She is in debt … sort of … to a drug lord. But she can’t pay. So he asked her to bring something over the border for him.”

  “Something illegal?”

  “Yes. If she gets caught, will she be arrested?”

  “Of course.”

  “What if she fears for her life? She is afraid to go to police, afraid to say no … you see the problem.”

  “People who break the law get arrested, Maria. Unless she has a gun to her head, she will face the same consequences as anyone else.”

  “What should she do?”

  “Go to the police.”

  Maria sipped her soda, thinking. “There is another person involved. A captive.”

  Foster smiled. “Sounds like a telenovela.”

  “You don’t believe me?”

  “If your friend is worried, for herself or someone else, she should go to the authorities immediately. Drug lords can’t be bargained with. Even if she cooperates, she’ll lose. Women who won’t talk to the police are easier to manipulate. And when they disappear, nobody knows what happened.”

  She frowned at his words, filled with foreboding. “What if the police can’t help?”

  “This isn’t Mexico, Maria. Here in the U.S., we try to protect innocent women.”

  Although she heard the “we” in the last sentence and understood its implications, she couldn’t prevent the memories that sprang to the surface of her mind. The police in Mexico weren’t always helpful. Sometimes they stole innocence rather than protecting it.

  Foster was the only lawman she’d ever trusted. Even after what she’d gone through at El Caracol, she wasn’t afraid of him. He’d been strong, kind, reliable. It was a shame that he didn’t exist anymore.

  “I will tell her what you say,” she murmured.

  “In the meantime, don’t go back to that hotel. Some serious shit is going down there, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  She made a noncommittal sound. For the sake of appearances, she should continue her maid duties. “If I can’t convince my friend to go to the police, I will get more details for you. Could you pass on information? Would that help her?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Okay. I see what I can do.”

  “You’re a magnet for trouble,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Do you ever get tired of
saving people?”

  Her gaze wandered over his face, taking in the familiar lines and angles. Although he looked different with the longish hair and beard, he wasn’t unattractive to her. “Someone saved me once,” she reminded him.

  This dilemma was killing her. Enable Sasha or let her die. Turn her back or go to jail. No decision felt right.

  Pushing away from the couch, Kari walked over to the bookcase, dragging out a thick, leather-embossed photo album. She sank to her knees on the carpet, opening it. Page after page showed a happy family. Baby Kari in her father’s arms. Kari as a downy-haired toddler, holding a newborn Sasha with her mother’s help.

  The two sisters standing in a kiddie pool, smiles as bright as the sun, their tanned arms wrapped around each other.

  She flipped to the final pages, drenched in sorrow. There were several of Kari and Sasha in sexy outfits, dressed up for a wild night.

  The last good times.

  They hadn’t gone out and had fun together in years. Not since Sasha had hooked up with Carlos Moreno.

  She closed the album, her heart heavy. After her father died, she’d been forced to sell his furniture stores to pay off their debts. She and Sasha had split the amount that was left over. Kari had used the money wisely, investing in her future. Sasha went through her portion in record time and had nothing but a closetful of clothes to show for it.

  Maria walked in the front door a few minutes later, wearing the dress from the picture Kari had just looked at. It suited her slim, elegant figure.

  “Hot date?” Kari asked.

  Maria collapsed on the couch, chuckling. “Not quite. How about you?”

  She sighed, biting down on her lip. “Adam has been spying on me. He saw Chuy and his partner leave the house.”

  Her eyes widened with dismay. “Hijo de puta.”

  “He didn’t agree to help me at the border, either.”

  She muttered a string of Spanish curses. “Why did he lie about his mother?”

  “Just an excuse to stop by, I guess.”

  “That bastard.”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you two …” She made the hand gesture.

  “No!”

  “Maybe you should.”

  “Maybe I should what? Offer him sexual favors in exchange for help?” She placed a palm to her chest, disproportionately indignant for a woman who’d been caught on her knees less than an hour ago.

  Maria shrugged. “It’s not wrong if you want him.”

  “Your mother would be appalled to hear you say that.”

  “Yes,” she agreed, smiling.

  “Speaking of sexual favors, where did you go in that getup?”

  Maria glanced down at her dress. “Do I look like a lady of the night?”

  “No, I was just teasing. It’s very cute on you.”

  She rested her arm on the back of the couch. “I saw Agent Foster. He said you should go to the police.”

  Kari’s mouth dropped open. “You told him about me?”

  “I didn’t use any names. Don’t worry.”

  She thrust her hands into her hair, wanting to pull it out by the roots. “Are you crazy? How can I not worry?”

  “Everything will be okay.”

  “He could find out who I am, Maria.”

  “That’s true, but he won’t tell.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because he doesn’t want me to tell anyone who he is.”

  Kari stood and paced the living room, filled with nervous energy.

  “It’s better this way,” Maria insisted. “We can’t trust men like Chuy and Carlos Moreno. I know Agent Foster is good. Do you think Adam is good?”

  Oh, he was good, she thought. “He’s not as bad as them,” she said.

  “Maybe you can make a bargain.”

  Kari stopped in her tracks, nodding. She couldn’t bargain with Adam sexually—he wasn’t that cheap. And since she’d been throwing herself at him, it was too late to play coy. But she did have something else he wanted: information.

  Although it was painful for Kari to acknowledge, because she was developing feelings for him, Adam wasn’t over Penelope Mendes. She suspected that he’d do just about anything for details about her killer.

  “That’s it,” she said, forming a new plan.

  After Adam returned home, he had another late visitor.

  He opened the door for Ian. “What’s up?”

  “My assignment is fucked.”

  Adam let him inside, gesturing for him to sit down. There were very few people he cared about outside his own family. Ian was one of them. In fact, Adam was closer to Ian than he was to Gabriel, his real brother. Gabe had been living like a recluse since he came home from Iraq, and no one could get through to him.

  Adam didn’t want Ian to drift away, too. He would always have his best friend’s back. “What happened?”

  Ian rubbed his eye sockets. “I don’t even know where to start.”

  “At the beginning?”

  “I told you about the fight with my target, right?”

  “Right.”

  “The next time I went for a buy, he accused me of being … deceptive. He said I didn’t fight like a junkie.”

  Adam had sparred with Ian and could attest to that truth. “What else?”

  “He put a gun to my head and forced me to snort heroin.”

  “Fuck,” he muttered, shoving a hand through his hair. He couldn’t think of a worse situation for an undercover cop to be in. Damned if you do, dead if you don’t. “Did you test dirty?”

  “Oh yeah. I went to HQ for a voluntary and explained the situation. But it looks bad. Especially after that bullshit story I told about being jumped last week.”

  “Fuck,” Adam said again.

  “They put the undercover portion on hold. Now I’m doing basic surveillance.”

  Adam knew how much this assignment meant to Ian. Being relegated to surveillance was a huge demotion, and it must have killed his friend’s morale. Even so, Adam was relieved. It was a dangerous job and Ian had been risking his life, taking the role too far. By virtue of his dysfunctional upbringing, Ian fit in a little too well with the criminal underbelly. Adam hardly recognized him nowadays.

  “There’s more,” Ian said.

  “It gets worse?”

  His friend swallowed. “I told my superiors that I went home and slept off the heroin. That was a lie. I couldn’t get back to base. Maria Santos found me stumbling around and … helped me. She took me to a hotel room until I sobered up.”

  Adam jerked his head toward Ian, questioning.

  “Nothing happened. Nothing much, anyway.”

  “Jesus, Ian,” he said, stunned. Ian could lose his job along with the assignment if any of this came out.

  “Here comes the really crazy part.”

  “I don’t think I’m ready for it.”

  “Well, you’d better be, because it involves you. And I promise that if you go off on some half-cocked revenge mission, I’ll take this to the chief of my department and tell him everything.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  Ian’s gaze was hard. “I’m trusting you with some very sensitive information. I want to work together on a solution, within the bounds of the law, if possible.”

  Adam found that statement ironic, but he nodded his agreement.

  “Maria called me tonight, asking for advice.”

  “You gave her your number?”

  “Hell no. She used my cell phone while I was out of it.”

  “And?”

  “The call came from Karina Strauss’s house.”

  Adam rose to his feet. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Maria works at the Hotel del Oro, three blocks from Zócalo. My target is—”

  “Chuy Pena,” Adam finished, his mind reeling.

  “I met her at a bar an hour ago. She said she has a friend who owes Moreno money.”

  “Kari,” Adam supplied.

 
; Ian nodded. “That’s what I figured. She can’t pay, so she’s smuggling for him. Allegedly, she’s afraid to go to the police because of a captive loved one.”

  “Sasha.”

  Ian shrugged. “You know anything about Moreno’s mistress?”

  “She’s a drug addict who likes to shop.”

  Adam swore under his breath, his stress level rising. Walking over to the fridge, he grabbed a soda for Ian and a beer for himself. He popped off the tops of both bottles and brought them to the couch.

  “Thanks,” Ian said, taking a swig.

  “What did you tell Maria to do?”

  “Go to the police.”

  “You think she will?”

  “No. She’s undocumented—and that’s just between us. Your smuggler girlfriend brought her here.”

  Adam drank his beer, unsurprised. She’d acted suspicious the afternoon they met, and that was before Chuy’s visit. What were the odds that she’d been carrying illegal cargo in the form of a slender, dark-haired young lady?

  “No wonder she came on to me that first day,” Adam said. “She had Mario Santos in the back of her fucking van!”

  “Have you seen her lately?”

  “She was here earlier,” he admitted, tugging on his shirt collar. He tried not to conjure a vivid mental picture of what she’d been doing to him.

  Ian arched a brow, making an educated guess. “Really.”

  “She asked me for a wave-through. I said no.”

  “You’re turning into a regular Boy Scout.”

  Adam groaned, holding the cold bottle to his sweaty forehead. That was hardly true. “She wouldn’t tell me why she was asking.”

  “Now that you know, what are you going to do?”

  “I’ll talk to her again and report back to you. I’d rather move forward with her cooperation.”

  Ian didn’t have to ask why. He knew Adam could face administrative action for launching an extracurricular investigation. Crossing the line with her sexually made the situation even more precarious.

  His friend gave him a measured look. “I take it that the lesbian theory you were pondering has been disproved?”

  “It was a soft theory,” Adam admitted.

  Ian clinked their bottles together. “Cheers to that.”

  16

  Kari made plans to see Adam again the following night.

 

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