Hidden Prey (Lawmen)

by Cheyenne McCray

  His anger magnified and her body rocked against his desk as he slammed into her. His tension and wrath balled up in his groin.

  He all but exploded when he came. He thrust until he’d completely shot his semen inside her, until he was spent and almost too exhausted to pull out.

  When he did, he tucked himself back inside his slacks and fastened his belt. She didn’t move from where she lay on his desk, but her body continued to tremble.

  He pulled her long hair, jerking her to her feet. When he got a look at her face, he saw that a drop of blood had formed on her lip where she’d bitten it. Black mascara streaked her face and her eyes were red, her face wet with tears. She had marks on her face from where he’d backhanded her.

  “Straighten up.” He gestured to her clothing. She tugged down the skirt and he handed her a handkerchief. “Take care of your face.”

  She took the handkerchief and wiped away the black marks from her cheeks. He looked at her exposed breasts and started to harden again. She grabbed her blouse that was now free of buttons and pulled the sides together, covering her breasts.

  “Get out of here and go clean yourself up.” He pointed toward the door. “Before you leave, make sure no one will see you.”

  She didn’t hesitate this time. She hurried toward the door. Just as she grabbed the handle, he spoke.

  “I expect you to remain with us.” She didn’t turn away from the door as he added, “I know your family and I will kill them if you speak of this. Do you understand?”

  A visible shudder rippled through her body and she nodded before unlocking and opening the door, and peering out.

  She fled.

  Diego felt more relaxed, but in complete control of himself and those around him. He didn’t like this feeling of being out of control when it came to the woman in the U.S. who had witnessed his son murdering the scum who had wormed himself into the heart of his organization. It would be only a matter of time before the woman called Tori Cox was dead, too.

  CHAPTER 16

  Landon and Dylan eased up to the door of the house on the outskirts of Douglas, where they hoped to find John Graves and Pablo Perez. If they were lucky, Alejandro Jimenez would be here, too.

  Peeling white paint on the outside of the house, and the weed-choked yard with junk strewn everywhere, gave the house a neglected look. Considering the state of the place, Landon would bet that Alejandro would have nothing to do with a crap hole like this.

  Even though it wasn’t even noon, the sun was bright and Landon’s heavy body armor made him feel even hotter. Sweat dripped down the side of his face and rolled onto his neck.

  Dylan leaned against the house and held his weapon down in a two-handed grip. “Your informant better be right.”

  “Carl’s reliable.” Landon watched other DHS agents move into position. “Usually.”

  Dylan grimaced at Landon. “It’s the ‘usually’ part that I don’t like.”

  Gripping his Glock, Landon silently moved to the opposite side of the door so he was on one side and Dylan on the other. Dylan, like the other agents, wore body armor. Dylan and Landon each had a tactical holster strapped to his thigh.

  Four other agents waited with Landon and Dylan by the door. When everyone was in place, Landon peeked through the window and saw John Graves. He gave a grim smile and nodded at Dylan.

  Landon reared back and jammed his foot against the door. The locking mechanisms were inferior and the door broke free and swung open, hitting the wall with a crash. “Police!” Landon shouted.

  In the same instant his gaze took in the three men in the front room who whirled to face the door, weapons in their hands. Landon got off two shots before ducking back behind the doorframe.

  One of the men inside gave a grunt of pain right before the shooting started inside.

  Dylan swung around the doorframe just long enough to get in a few shots before moving aside. A man inside came close to a window and one of the snipers picked him off. Dylan and Landon took care of the other two and cleared the room before more DHS agents swarmed in. Shouts of “police!” filled the air.

  Two of the men inside were dead. One was injured, and Landon saw that it was John Graves. Blood seeped from a wound in his abdomen and he was lying on the floor, but trying to get up. He’d dropped his weapon a few feet away. When Landon stood over the sonofabitch, he aimed his Glock at Graves’s head and the man went still. Landon kicked Graves’s gun aside.

  Landon recognized the two dead as wanted men from the Jimenez Cartel. Agents went to each body and checked for a pulse and shook their heads when they found none.

  When O’Donnell stood over Graves, his gun trained on the man, Landon and Dylan moved down the hallway to a closed door. Incredibly loud music pounded from inside, a heavy throb and the deep bass causing the walls to vibrate.

  Landon and Dylan moved to either side of the door. With a nod to Landon, Dylan kicked the door in with a loud crash. He and Landon immediately pointed their weapons at a man and woman in bed.

  The woman screamed.

  “Police!” Landon shouted. “Freeze. Hands in the air.”

  Pablo slowly raised his hands, but the naked woman wrapped herself in a sheet and shrank away from Dylan and Landon. Dylan cleared the room and checked the bathroom while Landon kept his Glock trained on Pablo Perez who scrambled to sit up.

  Dylan ordered the woman to drop the sheet and raise her hands. She clearly read the danger in his eyes and she hurried to obey as he continued to point his weapon at her.

  Landon moved toward the bed, his Glock trained on Perez who sneered at him. Landon took the handgun resting on the nightstand, put the safety on, and tucked it in his jeans. He knelt and scooped up a pair of pants from off the floor, checked the pockets for any kind of weapon then tossed the pants onto the bed.

  “Get dressed.” Landon backed a few feet away as he spoke to Perez. “Slowly.”

  Perez got off the bed and pulled on his pants, never taking his eyes off of Landon.

  After checking the woman’s clothing and tossing it to her, Dylan ordered her to get dressed as well, keeping his own weapon aimed at her.

  Landon tossed Perez a button-up shirt from the foot of the bed. Perez slid it on and buttoned it. After Perez put on his shoes, Landon handcuffed him. “We have a warrant for your arrest.”

  Perez spit on the floor.

  “Out.” Landon pushed Perez toward the door. “Move it.”

  Dylan had cuffed the woman who was now dressed, and they left the room first.

  Perez held his head high as he walked down the hall to the living room, Landon gripping his upper arm. John Graves was still lying on the floor, looking pale from loss of blood as paramedics worked on him. Agent O’Donnell stood close by.

  “How bad is it?” Landon asked the paramedic as he brought Perez to a halt.

  The paramedic leaned back on his haunches. “Bullet went clean through.”

  Graves bared his teeth in a pained scowl, but remained still as a stretcher was brought in. O’Donnell never left his side, even as the man was loaded on a stretcher, handcuffed to it, and taken out to the waiting ambulance.

  For the sake of officer safety, in case more men with guns were hiding, the agents were clear to search the house. While they checked it out, they found no sign of Alejandro Jimenez. However, they did find a shitload of cash and drugs lying out, plain to see, in the kitchen and in a back room.

  When Landon and Dylan went outside with Perez, and reached the agency vehicles, Perez was put into the backseat of one of the cars. Landon and Dylan watched as the ambulance and agency vehicle left, their drivers speeding them away.

  “We got two of the sonsofbitches.” Landon looked at Dylan. “You ready?”

  “Hell, yes.” Dylan started toward his SUV. “Let’s get this party rolling.”

  The distance from the house in Douglas to the DHS office wasn’t far. It wasn’t long before Perez was in one of the interrogation rooms. Dylan and Landon went into the ro
om a short time later, where the man was handcuffed to a chair. Dylan leaned up against the doorframe as Landon stood in front of Perez.

  “We have an eyewitness putting you at the scene of a homicide three nights ago.” Landon kept his tone and his expression controlled as he spoke. “The murder of a DHS agent.”

  Perez’s expression was cocky, as if he feared nothing. “I want a call and I want my lawyer.”

  “You’ve already been identified.” Landon gave Perez a hard look. “Now’s the time to start talking if you want to save your ass.”

  Perez shrugged. “I want my lawyer.”

  Landon’s temper flared even though he knew going into the interrogation that Perez wasn’t going to give up anything easily. “We know that Alejandro Jimenez pulled the trigger while you and John Graves held down the agent. You will get prison time.”

  Perez smirked. “Give me my call.”

  “Did I mention the crack we found laying around the house you were in?” Landon managed to rein in his temper. “Found your stash with one hell of a lot of cash.” He gave Perez a look of disgust. “Think your cartel is going to stand by you when you lose close to a million dollars in cash and crack?”

  For the first time, Perez appeared unnerved. “Just get me my damn lawyer.”

  Landon shook his head. “Even if we didn’t have anything to hold you and cut you free, you’d probably be gunned down the moment you set foot outside this place.”

  Perez licked his lips.

  “If you give us everything we want on Diego and Alejandro Jimenez and help us put them away, we can put you under our protection and offer you a deal.” Landon eyed Perez squarely. “If you don’t, you know you’re as good as dead as far as the cartel is concerned.”

  Perez said nothing but Landon thought he saw a hint of fear before the cocky expression replaced it. “Go to hell, motherfucker.”

  “If Graves gives us what we need then our offer to you is off the table and you go to prison for a long time. And you’ll be a dead man as far as the cartel is concerned.” Landon gave the man another look before walking to where Dylan stood. He glanced over his shoulder at Perez who was glaring at them. Landon added loud enough for Perez to hear, “We’ll give Perez time to consider everything.”

  Dylan opened the door and they walked out of the room. “Let’s go see what Graves has to say.”

  When they reached the Douglas hospital, Landon and Dylan went to the information desk and were given the location and room number for Graves.

  As they walked through the hospital, flashbacks nearly caused Landon to stumble and halt. The smells and the very atmosphere of the place reminded him too much of Stacy and the night she’d died. He’d been carted away to the hospital. Stacy’s body had been taken to the hospital, too, for the official declaration of her death. For more than a year he’d told himself it should have been him that had died, not her.

  A thought occurred to him. Tori had changed that. Somehow after meeting her he didn’t have a death wish any longer.

  What the fuck was with him? He barely knew the woman.

  It didn’t take long for Dylan and Landon to reach the room where Graves was being held. Two agents were stationed on either side of the doorway.

  Landon spoke with the junior agents. “Has anyone outside of hospital staff stopped by?”

  The agent to the left of the doorway shook his head. “No one.”

  “Only nurses and a doctor have entered the room, all of whom had been cleared.” The other agent spoke up. “A nurse and the doctor are with Graves now.”

  The nurse opened the door and came out into the hallway. Landon introduced himself and Dylan to the nurse before asking about Graves’s condition.

  The woman, who looked to be in her late forties, held a chart to her chest. “The doctor is with him now. You can ask him when he comes out.”

  A moment later, a man in a white hospital coat and green scrubs stepped out of Graves’s room.

  “Dr. Harrison?” Landon asked.

  “Yes?” The doctor adjusted his stethoscope around his neck as he looked from Landon to Dylan. “How can I help you, gentlemen?”

  “I’m Special Agent Walker and this is Special Agent Curtis.” Landon inclined his head in the direction of Graves’s room. “How is the patient?”

  “Mr. Graves is in stable condition.” Dr. Harrison didn’t look as if he believed there was anything to be too concerned about. “The bullet went through his side cleanly and no organs were damaged. He’s been treated and should be discharged to DHS by tomorrow.”

  “Thank you, Doctor.” Landon nodded to Graves’s room. “We’d like to ask him a few questions.”

  Dr. Harrison gestured to the doorway. “Go right on in.”

  Landon and Dylan entered the room. One of John Graves’s wrists was cuffed to the bedrail. The blond man looked a little worse for the wear, his face pale and drawn. He scowled when he saw the agents, but he didn’t speak.

  “We’re going to have a little talk, Graves.” Dylan stood near the bed. “And you’d better listen closely.”

  The conversation went much like the one with Perez had. Graves appeared harder to break. Not that Perez would be easy, but Graves was an excessively angry and stubborn sonofabitch who also kept asking for a lawyer.

  “You know you won’t walk out of this alive.” Landon eyed Graves squarely. “Diego Jimenez doesn’t like loose ends. You assisted his son in executing a federal agent, and your testimony would help get him convicted. He’s not going to let you live.”

  Landon knew they were starting to get to him as Graves’s throat worked. “Fuck you.”

  “I think you’re the one who’s going to be thoroughly fucked when this is all over with.” Landon rested his hand on the bar that Graves was handcuffed to. “Think fast because you don’t have much time.”

  Like Perez, Graves remained mute. Landon and Dylan left the room.

  “One of them will come around.” Dylan jangled his keys in his hand as they headed through the hospital’s automatic glass doors. “I’m betting on Perez.”

  Landon squinted as they walked into the bright sunshine, and he pulled a pair of sunglasses out of the pocket of his overshirt and slipped the sunglasses on. “I’m betting you’re right.”

  Tori sat on the couch in the living room downstairs, and O’Donnell was in the overstuffed chair. The furnishings were ugly with goldish brown upholstery and dark wood coffee and end tables that were scuffed and had clearly seen plenty of use.

  She’d spent some time with her clarinet, which had soothed her, but she was feeling caged now. She glanced at O’Donnell, who still had small cuts on his face from the night at the first safe house when they’d been attacked.

  One of the popular reality singing shows was on TV and she thought her brain was going to explode. To her trained ear, much of the singing, guitar playing, and piano playing was so bad that it physically hurt to listen to the contestants. Granted, some were fantastic but the bad ones were giving her a headache.

  “You okay?” O’Donnell asked, drawing her out of her thoughts as the commercials came on.

  “I’ll be fine.” She tried to smile but it wasn’t easy. “Just going a little stir crazy. I could really use a glass of wine right now.”

  “I don’t blame you for being stir crazy. I’ll get you some water.” He looked apologetic. “Sorry we don’t have anything stronger.”

  He stood and headed in the direction of the kitchen then paused in the archway between the rooms. “Hey, Danson. Toss me a couple bottles of water.” He stayed in the doorway where he could keep an eye on the front door and Tori while he waited for Agent Danson to hand him the bottles.

  Where was Landon? Tori wondered. He’d been gone since early this morning and it was now evening. Was it possible he wasn’t going to return today? A new ache in her chest surprised her. Why did she need to see him so badly? Was it need or want?

  Both.

  She leaned her head back against the couc
h and looked up at the ceiling. She didn’t know how on earth she was going to manage living in protective custody. She was getting claustrophobic. She was happy to have one of her clarinets but would love a notebook to compose in. She couldn’t find paper or a pen anywhere in this damned house. Composing and playing her instrument soothed her whenever she was upset and everything around her was in upheaval. She’d been through that plenty of times with Gregory.

  Her throat worked as she thought of him. He’d been a bastard, but he hadn’t deserved to die the way he had. His intern hadn’t deserved to be murdered, either. Even though Landon told her not to blame herself, she couldn’t help the feeling that the deaths were her fault.

  When O’Donnell returned, he handed her a water bottle that was icy cold to the touch.

  “Thanks.” She took the bottle and unscrewed the cap before taking a drink. The water was cool and refreshing, but she really did want something stronger.

  O’Donnell’s phone buzzed. He pulled it out of his pocket and answered it. “About time.” O’Donnell got up and went to the door.

  A moment later he let Landon in. Tori’s belly flip-flopped and she couldn’t believe how fast her body reacted to seeing him. Just thinking about his kisses, and the way his hands had caressed her body, made her nipples taut beneath her T-shirt.

  He met her gaze and raised a bag. “Hope you like Chinese.”

  “Love it.” She got to her feet, the warm smells of the food he carried making her stomach growl. She hadn’t even realized she was that hungry.

  She followed him into the kitchen that had a small dining area off to the side. He set all of the white containers at the center of the long table and she helped him open everything while Agent Claire Danson grabbed plates out of the cabinets.

  After Landon took a plate of food into the living room for Agent O’Donnell, he returned with a slim bag that she hadn’t noticed before. On the outside of the bag was the name of a music store. He handed Tori the bag before sitting next to her at the table.