Out of Time

by Samantha Graves

  “Please, no hard-drive jokes. I’ve heard them all.”

  “No, but if she’s feeding someone info, I’d sure like to know who. It might not be a bad idea to accommodate her.”

  Paulie said, “Are you telling me you want me to take one for the team with a drop-dead gorgeous woman? Jeez, I like working for you a whole lot more than Raven. I usually just get shot at with her.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t rule that out with Alexis, either. Just keep her away from the house.”

  The shower was turned off, and Simon eyed the door. “Anything new on Lance?”

  “Nothing. He’s been keeping a real low profile.”

  “What about current site excavations?”

  Paulie said, “Unless they have a website or a report posted somewhere, I wouldn’t be able to find them. Aren’t you going to see Lance today, anyway?”

  Simon stood up and walked over to his bag. “Looking forward to it.”

  Paulie hesitated. “Yeah, I’ll bet. Don’t hurt him, okay?”

  Simon grinned. “Now, why would I do that? What, with him being the guy who was stupid enough to break Jillian’s heart and all.”

  “Now, see, that’s exactly why I’m a little bit concerned. We don’t need to be causing any trouble in Mexico. Low profile, remember? Think invisible.”

  Simon glanced out the doors to the balcony. “You have my word as a gentleman.”

  “Jesus, we’re all doomed,” Paulie said.

  “Call me if you find out anything else.”

  “Right. Bye.”

  Simon hung up and tossed the cell phone into his bag. He could be invisible. Better yet, he could make Lance invisible. It would almost be the highlight of his day.

  The bathroom door opened, and Jillian came out, fully dressed in a floral green tank top, beige shorts, and walking sandals. All buttoned up tight.

  She stopped when she saw him standing there naked, and her expression turned cool. Her eyes said it all— mistake. The disappointment and anger that rose in his mind took him by surprise. He stepped up and slid his hand through her hair. She gasped when he pulled her to him and kissed her hard.

  Her hands went to his chest defensively, driving his resolve up a notch. She’d made love to him all night, whether she approved of it now or not. She wasn’t fooling him.

  Then he felt her lips relax, followed by her hands on his chest. She kissed him back, and the tension in his mind eased, replaced by the heat she possessed.

  He broke off the kiss and pressed his forehead against hers. “You can pretend it didn’t happen, babe. But that’s not going to change a thing. You want this as much as I do.”

  She closed her eyes as if in pain, and his chest tightened. Let it go, Simon. They’d have a few days together, some meaningless sex, and then they’d go back to their separate worlds.

  He stepped back, grabbed his bag, and went into the bathroom before he could see her eyes.

  Jillian walked out the door of the hotel first. If she could drop off the face of the planet right this minute, she would. It was bad enough to admit to herself that last night shouldn’t have happened, but to have Simon call her on it was even worse. He could have just played along and pretended that it never happened and everything would have been fine, but noooo.

  She carried her bag to the Jeep parked on the street. Truth be told, it wasn’t his fault. She’d lost control and jumped him. What else did she expect him to do? Really, she needed to get a grip on her raging hormones. Every time she got close to him, she lost her mind.

  It’s just for a few days, she kept telling herself. A few more days of Simon’s hands on her body, Simon’s mouth on her lips, Simon’s . . .

  She had to slow down, because her body was having a moment.

  That’s when she noticed that someone was sitting in the backseat of the Jeep. She froze on the sidewalk and then turned around, only to run into Simon behind her.

  “What?” he asked with a frown.

  “Somebody’s in the Jeep,” she whispered.

  His gaze cut to the vehicle, and his expression hardened. He handed her his bag. “Take this and stay here unless you hear shots, and then find cover.”

  She took the bag automatically as he shoved it into her hands. “You might need help.”

  He gave her a sharp look. “You can play heroine some other time.” Then he headed for the Jeep.

  “Fine,” she muttered to herself. “But I’m not helpless. Someday you might want my help. Right.”

  She saw him scan the empty street and then reach into his shirt for his gun as he approached the Jeep slowly. A strange mix of fear and relief swept over her. At least he was armed. Maybe he wouldn’t get hurt. Or he could shoot someone, which would be bad, but not as bad. She shook her head at the crazy way she was thinking. What had her world come to?

  Simon opened the back door and looked inside for a few moments. Jillian held her breath. Then he leaned in farther. Was he talking to the person? Maybe it was just a homeless person looking for a place to crash for the night. Simple, easy, and no one gets killed.

  Simon stood and looked at her for a second before waving her forward. Now, that was strange. She walked toward him as he checked the street with a frown. Something was very wrong.

  When she got close, she noticed a Mexican man sitting in the middle of the seat, his head resting on the back, and he appeared to be sound asleep. However, he looked vaguely familiar.

  Simon closed the door abruptly and took the bags from her. “Get in and act normal.”

  She blinked as Simon tossed the bags in the back and closed the hatch. “Why? Who is he? Why is he in our Jeep? And why aren’t you telling him to leave?”

  Simon walked around the other side. “Just get in, Jillian.”

  Her stomach twisted. “Simon—”

  But he climbed into the driver’s seat and slammed his door, leaving her gaping. What was going on here?

  She huffed and got into the passenger side.

  “What’s wrong?” she hissed.

  Simon pulled the Jeep out onto the street and glanced in his rearview mirror. “You’re not going to like this.”

  An uneasy feeling prickled across her skin. Then she turned and glanced at the person in the back. It was the same man Simon had run into last night. He wasn’t moving. Bruises covered his neck, and it looked crooked, kind of like, like . . .

  “He’s dead,” Simon told her.

  “Oh, my God.” She spun around in her seat and stared straight ahead, hoping she’d either heard Simon wrong or there really wasn’t a dead guy in the backseat. She checked the mirror. There really was a dead guy in the back. “Oh, my God.”

  She grabbed the armrest for support as her head swam. “Why is he here?”

  Simon drove calmly through Catemaco like there wasn’t a dead guy in the Jeep with them. “My guess would be that someone broke his neck and put him there.”

  Broken neck. Sure. Happened all the time. She closed her eyes. “Is it my imagination, or is that the same man from last night?”

  “Yes. And before you ask, no, I didn’t kill him.”

  She opened her eyes and stared at Simon. “Then who did? And who put him in our Jeep? After you beat him up last night? Who would know that?”

  “Someone who was following us, watching us,” Simon replied. “We’re dumping the Jeep as soon as possible.”

  She blinked in disbelief. “You’re worried about the Jeep? What about the dead guy in the Jeep?”

  Simon’s lips thinned. “We need to dump him, too.”

  The hysteria building in her mind hit a whole new high. “What?”

  He cast her a determined look. “We have to dump his body.”

  He couldn’t have just said that. He couldn’t be serious. “Simon, we have to go to the police. A man has been murdered.”

  “We are not going to the police.”

  “Yes, we are,” she insisted. “It’s the right thing to do.”

  Simon rounded on her in
anger. “What do you think the police are going to say, Jillian? ‘Thanks for the body—you can go now’?”

  She actually hadn’t thought that far ahead. She was still stuck on dead guy. “You can’t just dispose of a human being on the side of a road. That’s . . . barbaric.”

  “So is being framed for his murder,” Simon pointed out.

  Jillian inhaled sharply as it dawned on her that he was right. They’d been set up. Why? Who would set them up? Who knew they were here?

  He turned his concentration back to the road. “We don’t have a choice, Jillian. If we call in the police, we’ll be the prime suspects.”

  She closed her eyes. Hell. “Fine. But I’m not watching.”

  CHAPTER

  17

  After Simon searched the body and shoved it into a muddy ditch, he drove back to Catemaco and left the Jeep on a side street. Then they carried their gear to the nearest rental place and picked up a different Jeep.

  Every step of the way, Simon checked over his shoulder. If someone was following, they were damn good. And that was the part that worried him.

  Not only that, Jillian was pale and silent beneath her straw hat. Accomplice to murder was probably running through her mind. Wanted for murder was running through his. She’d been right. Someone had seen him last night. Followed them. Killed a man and stuffed him in their Jeep. It wasn’t easy to break a man’s neck. They were dealing with someone very, very good. The only name that came to mind was Kesel.

  What Simon didn’t get was why Kesel hadn’t also called the police in. That would have sealed the murder frame and their fate. So why just put the body in the Jeep? Was it a warning? For what? To get the archives, or to not get the archives? Would have been nice if he’d left a note.

  Simon parked the new rental a block away from the café where they were supposed to meet Lance.

  “Are you okay?” he asked Jillian as they walked side by side through the city center.

  “Fine. Dandy. Great. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Just checking,” he said. “Excited to see Lance again?”

  She slanted him a stern look. “I’m doing this for you, not me.”

  Simon tried to contain his grin. She was doing this for him. On the downside, Lance hadn’t just tossed a dead body in a ditch, either.

  They entered a treelined park filled with clowns carrying balloons, families enjoying the day, and street bands playing from every corner. A massive water fountain occupied the center, to the delight of the children dancing in the shallow basin. The café was situated on the edge of the park.

  Simon picked Lance out immediately. Wearing expensive sunglasses, an L.L.Bean golf shirt, and starched pants, he sat alone at a table facing the park, sipping a margarita. He smiled when he saw Jillian approach and stood up to greet her.

  Jesus, he looked like he’d just stepped out of GQ. His jaw was perfectly square, his hair cut just right, his teeth straight and white.

  Simon hated him instantly.

  He hung back when Lance pulled his sunglasses off and hugged her. Jillian stiffened and broke it off before Lance could give her a kiss, and Simon felt a perverse smugness. They exchanged a few pleasantries before Jillian introduced him. “And this is Simon.”

  To his growing satisfaction, Lance looked positively confused as he shook Simon’s hand. The handshake was smooth and light. Not the kind of hands that dug in the dirt for artifacts. Also not the kind of hands that could snap a man’s neck.

  “Nice to meet you. Are you a friend of Jillian’s or a tour guide?” Lance asked.

  Simon grinned. “Both.”

  Lance gave an unsure laugh, and they sat down at the table with Jillian between them. A waiter took their order for drinks and food and left.

  Simon leaned back and stared Lance down, who appeared somewhat unsettled by it. All the better.

  “So, you said you were here on vacation?” Lance asked Jillian. “What have you been doing?”

  She blinked a few times. “Mostly sightseeing and shopping.”

  “And some swimming,” Simon added.

  Jillian kicked him under the table. “Yes, and swimming.”

  Lance smiled a little too tightly. “That sounds wonderful. Mexico is a beautiful country.”

  “It certainly is,” Jillian agreed.

  The drinks arrived, and Simon noted that Jillian took a big swig of her margarita, gave a little shudder, and asked Lance, “So you came down here to work a dig?”

  Lance nodded excitedly. “A Mayan site in the northern region of Oaxaca. Would you like to see it? I’d be happy to drive you back with me. Then perhaps Simon could pick you up tomorrow.”

  Simon stilled.

  Jillian said, “Thank you, but I’m afraid our time here is already booked solid.”

  Lance kept his smile, never missing a beat. “I see. Well, perhaps I could coax you back to Mexico sometime?”

  Over my fucking dead body, Simon thought and took a drink.

  “Perhaps,” Jillian said and shifted in her seat.

  The food arrived, and Simon ate while Jillian and Lance exchanged civilized conversation about Mexican art and artifacts.

  He was a little surprised when Jillian finished her margarita and ordered a second. She barely touched her food, though. In fact, she hadn’t eaten all day. And she hadn’t discussed her little secret with Lance. At this rate, she’d be passed out before she remembered to ask who he’d betrayed her to.

  Simon leaned over to her and whispered, “It’s getting late.”

  The look she gave him was sad and raw, catching him off guard. Granted, he wanted to kill Lance for a variety of reasons, but mostly for hurting her.

  “Could you give us some privacy?” she asked, her voice fragile but determined.

  As much as he really wanted to watch Lance’s face to see if he was lying, he couldn’t deny her. Not after shaking her up so badly this morning. But there was no way he was going to go far. If he saw so much as a tear, he was going to slug Lance.

  “I’ll be waiting for you when you’re done,” he told her.

  She nodded and downed a good portion of her second margarita.

  Simon said a curt good-bye to Lance and headed back in the general direction of the Jeep. Forty feet away, he stepped into a doorway and watched Lance’s face. Jillian had her back to Simon, but her shoulders were tight as she talked.

  His cell phone chirped, and Simon reached for it without taking his eyes off them. “What?”

  Yancy answered with a gruff, “What? What kind of way is that to answer the phone?”

  Simon grinned. “How’s it going, old man?”

  “Who you calling old? You’re coming right up behind me, you old fart. Pretty soon you’ll be playing bingo in the basement of the local VFW.”

  Yancy knew exactly how old Simon was, so why was he talking crazy? Unless . . . A bad feeling settled in Simon’s gut as he played along. “Says you. How’s the weather?”

  “The nights are getting colder.”

  Damn, Yancy was in trouble. Simon gripped the phone. He had to know how much. “Are you keeping warm?”

  “Oh, you know me. I can handle a little chill.”

  Which meant that Yancy was safe for the time being. Someone must be watching him, though. “Maybe it’s time to think about moving south.”

  Yancy huffed. “No, thanks. A bit of nasty weather isn’t going to push me out. I’ll just put on an extra layer of protection.”

  So he was keeping his guns handy. Good. Simon rubbed his forehead. “Any idea if this is a big storm system or a small one?”

  “Small one. Maybe last a day or two. But I’ve been watching your weather. Looks like you might be getting the big, bad one. Better think about battening down the hatches.”

  So if Yancy had the small storm, then it was one of Kesel’s minions or someone working for the kidnapper, or someone else that Simon didn’t know about yet. Yancy could probably handle that. Unless they decided to use him as a little extr
a incentive.

  The big storm could only imply one thing: Kesel.

  “Storm clouds are already moving in,” Simon told him. “But I’m staying just ahead of it.”

  Yancy said, “Let me know how you make out after it passes.”

  If it passed, and if he was still alive to tell the tale. “I will. You, too.”

  “Don’t worry about me. You just keep the valuables safe and dry.”

  The valuables. Simon looked across the park, where Jillian was sitting with dickhead Lance. “You have my word on that.”

  “And just so you know, you can’t always trust that old jacket of yours. You never know when it might give out on you at the worst possible time.”

  Old jacket giving out, old friends betraying him. In other words, trust no one. “I hear you. Call me if you need me.”

  “Bye.”

  Yancy disconnected, and Simon closed his eyes for a moment. “Shit.”

  Kesel walked around the abandoned Jeep. So Bonner hadn’t lost his touch, after all. He’d managed to shake Kesel, which didn’t happen often.

  No sign of the dead Mexican. In fact, the Jeep looked completely clean, probably wiped down. According to his GPS, it had only been sitting here for about thirty minutes. Hardly enough time to find another ride. They were still in the city.

  He climbed back into his SUV and dialed his cell. Alexis picked up. “Yes, darling.”

  He drove toward the main highway outside Catemaco. “What has your surveillance uncovered?”

  She made a long humming sound. “Is that any way to begin a conversation with a lady?”

  You’re no lady was on the tip of his tongue, but he needed Alexis’s special skills. “Sorry, sweetheart. I’m in a bit of a hurry.”

  “You’re always too busy for me,” she said, and Kesel could tell she was pouting.

  “I promise that when this is all over with, I’ll stop by for a good, long time,” he said, checking the streets as he drove. “Did you make contact with anyone in the house?”

  “Of course. I met the boy in town. Paulie is his name. Sweet, a little shy. Tall, thin, and smarter than he looks.”

  Kesel scouted the highway ramps up ahead. They’d have to pass by here to get out of town, if they hadn’t already. Since Mexico was a big place, this might be his best bet to pick them up again. “Did you spend any time with him?”