On foot. What could be better?
As he fell into place behind his target, Tucker noticed another man, casually dressed, doing the same. Was he DEA surveillance? Or had his enemies spotted him? Were they closing in, leading him into a trap?
Telling himself to stop being paranoid, he continued to follow, taking care to keep other people between them.
When they reached one of the many small parking lots, the man cut across and unlocked a red Ford Explorer, climbing in. Tucker kept walking, aware he couldn’t follow now.
The third man, still a good fifty yards behind Tucker, also stopped, appearing torn. Then, apparently coming to a decision, he continued on toward Tucker.
“Other agents will follow him,” he said sotto-voice as they passed each other. “You’re not supposed to even be in Boulder. You need to get back to the safe house, where you belong.”
DEA then. Both relieved and dismayed, Tucker grimaced, plastering a fake smile on his face. “How did you recognize me?”
The other man shot him a quizzical look. “You’ve been followed since you left the house.”
“Good to know. But I’m just enjoying the sunshine.”
“In disguise? Right. Whatever. Finn will be contacting you shortly,” the agent continued. “But be aware that if you want our protection, you’ve got to do as we say.”
“And therein lies the problem.”
The other man stared at him blankly. “What?”
“Never mind.” Shaking his head, Tucker continued to walk. “I’ll take it up with Finn when I talk to him. Right now, I’m going to go have a beer. Want to join me?”
“Can’t.” For the first time the DEA agent cracked a smile. “I’m on duty. Maybe another time.”
Lifting his hand in a wave of acknowledgment, Tucker headed for Connor O’Neill’s. He’d have a beer and some wings before grabbing his bike and pedaling back to his house.
Eli had a doctor’s appointment today, so Lucy headed up to the medical office on Broadway. She was running early, so as she often did for no reason, she drove by the BBB corporate office, planning to pick up a cup of coffee, if the drive-thru wasn’t backed up.
Sometimes she dropped in to meet Sean for lunch, but it was twelve-thirty and he would have already eaten. He liked to have his midday meal at exactly noon. Since Eli’s pediatrician appointment was at one and she liked to be a few minutes early, she didn’t even have time to pop in and say hello, even if Sean had only grabbed a quick sandwich to eat in his office.
Not that she really wanted to. Things had been different between the two of them since the Fourth of July. It was like Tucker’s specter hovered over him, which was made worse since he wasn’t even dead.
But it sure felt like he was, she thought bitterly. He hadn’t returned after he’d left the second time, not even to stay with Sean as he’d claimed he wanted to do. Nor had he called to give them his new cell phone number. For all intents and purposes, she might have dreamt his return.
Except she hadn’t. And that made his disappearance hurt even more. Especially since he now knew he had a son. And that upset her most of all.
She could understand that seeing her with Sean bothered him. She could definitely sympathize. But to totally ignore Eli, his own son? That made the mama bear in her come out, claws ready.
Since the BBB coffee shop drive-thru had four cars waiting, she decided to pass. Going inside would involve not only locating a parking space, but unstrapping Eli from his car seat, gathering up all the apparatus that traveling with a baby meant. Too much effort for an early afternoon jolt of java.
Still, she couldn’t resist cruising slowly by. Though Sean was a partner in the business, BBB had been Tucker’s brainchild and she thought of him whenever she saw the logo, three intertwined, stylized Bs.
The coffee shop had settled down a bit from the normal morning rush, though every outside table was full as customers sat on the patio enjoying their caffeine fix and the warm sunshine. As she drove by, she eyed them, nearly doing a double take as she drove further down the street and one man caught her eye. Striding away, his broad shoulders and the tilt of his shaggy head brought a jolt of recognition to her stomach.
Tucker?
Could it be? But no, a second look revealed this man had a bushy black beard, and wore denim coveralls and a green and yellow John Deere cap, something Tucker would never do. Actually, the man had the look of a farmer on a day trip to the not-so-big city. Still, the resemblance was uncanny enough to make her catch her breath. Too bad his sunglasses had hidden his eyes. Tucker’s bright blue eyes would have been a dead giveaway.
Great, now she was seeing Tucker everywhere, even in total strangers. Still, she couldn’t erase the feeling that she’d missed something.
Chest aching, she continued on to Eli’s doctor appointment. It was for his three-month checkup and she didn’t want to be late.
The folks at the doctor’s office adored Eli and for his part, he appeared to take all this adulation in stride. He smiled and made bubbles as they cooed over him, and didn’t even cry once until it was time for his shot.
Watching his perfect little face go from genial happiness to shock, then turn red as he began crying his little heart out, Lucy actually got tears in her eyes.
Evidently used to the reaction of young mothers with their first babies, the nurse smiled and squeezed her shoulder before handing her a strawberry sucker.
An hour later, exiting the medical building, even though she told herself not to, she drove by the BBB building again and searched the streets near the café. The man was gone—he could have gone anywhere, so she chalked it up to an overactive imagination and went on home.
After enjoying his beer and some super-hot wings, Tucker got up to go. He wasn’t looking forward to the long bike ride back on the Diagonal Highway out to Niwot. But he knew better than to hang around Boulder. Though everyone he’d known, except Lucy and Sean, still believed him dead, he still stood a higher chance of being recognized here, in the town where he’d had both his home and his business.
He thought again of the man in the red Ford Explorer, wondering who he’d been and what he’d wanted. Would the DEA even tell him if they learned anything about him? He doubted it. As far as they were concerned, Tucker was simply bait, placed to lure their target.
That, he didn’t like. While he welcomed their help—after all, they had much better resources than he did—he wanted them to back him up rather than the other way around.
Since he knew Finn and the people he worked for would never agree to this, he’d have to figure out a way around it. In the meantime, he’d continue to investigate to the best of his ability.
Pedaling a bike usually invigorated him. Today though, with temperatures in the mid-nineties and having consumed a beer, he got dehydrated by the time he reached the IBM plant. He wheeled into a gas station and went inside to purchase a large bottle of water. On the way back to where he’d left his bike, he spotted the pay phone and realized what he needed to do. He needed to make the call he’d been putting off all week.
Since he didn’t want Sean—and especially not Lucy—to have his cell phone number, calling them from that was out. With caller ID all they had to do was make a note.
No, instead, he could call them from a random pay phone. Them? He shook his head, amused at his own self-deception. Who was he kidding? He had no intention of phoning Lucy. He could well imagine her anger. Plus, Lucy knew him too well. She’d be sure to spot the lie in any explanation he could give, especially since he didn’t really have one. On top of that, he could find out from Sean what the suspicious man had been doing at the company.
Pulling the slip of paper from his pocket, he deposited money and dialed the number. Sean answered on the second ring.
“Sean, it’s Tucker.”
“Tucker?” Sean sounded surprised. “Where the hell are you?”
“I’m safe,” he said, resolving to stick as close to the truth as possible. “I’v
e been advised to hide out for a little while.”
“Good plan. They’re looking for you, man. Some guy stopped in at the office today, asking for you. He was Hispanic and spoke with a pretty thick accent.”
A-ha. “Did you get a name?”
“Sure.” Sean sounded tired. “Though I’m pretty sure it was fake. He said his name was Miguel Gonzalez, which is only one of the most common Mexican names around.”
“True.” Tucker wrote it down anyway, just in case.
“He left a card,” Sean said, surprising him. “His telephone number is 555-1234. He claims to be with the Mexican Consulate.”
Interesting. Such a thing would be easy to verify. And if he was, that meant the corruption had reached even higher levels than the DEA had first thought.
Or maybe they hadn’t shared everything with him.
“Thanks, man,” Tucker continued. “I’ll give him a call. So…how’s everything?”
After a moment of silence, Sean responded. “If by everything, you mean Lucy, she’s fine. She’s still mad as hell at your disappearing act, but that’s mostly because she wants you to get to know Eli.”
Hearing the undercurrent of anger in Sean’s voice, Tucker knew he should leave it alone. But he couldn’t. He hoped Sean would understand.
“Will you give her a message for me?”
Sean didn’t answer.
Doggedly, Tucker continued. “Tell her I’ll try to see Eli as soon as I can, but it’s not safe right now. Will you pass that on for me, please?”
Again the small silence.
“Sure,” Sean finally said, a bit begrudgingly. “I’ll tell her. Anything else?”
Not “do you need anything” or “is there anything I can do to help” or even “are you all right.” Tucker supposed he needed to get used to the fact that he’d lost his best friend.
“Nope, thanks though,” he replied, hoping he sounded carefree enough.
Apparently, he did.
“Okay, great. Have a good one.” And with that, Sean disconnected the call.
Shaking his head, Tucker replaced the receiver, then rummaged in his pocket for more change. Once he’d deposited the correct amount, he dialed the number he’d written down.
“Bueno,” a man answered.
“Miguel Gonzalez?”
“Sí? And you are?”
“Tucker Drover.”
Miguel’s sharp intake of breath revealed his surprise.
“I heard you were looking for me,” Tucker continued. “Here I am. What do you want?”
“As a representative of the Mexican Consulate, I’d like to extend an offer of protection to you.”
It took every ounce of self-control Tucker possessed not to snort out loud. “You’re not with the Consulate. Who are you?”
“My position is equivalent in my country to what the Drug Enforcement Agency is in yours.”
Another lie. Still, he had to give the guy props for trying.
“You’re with the cartel, aren’t you?”
“Do not insult me, amigo.”
“I’m not your amigo,” Tucker responded. “What do you want?”
Either Miguel Gonzalez or whatever his real name was had no patience, or he knew Tucker had figured out the truth. “You know exactly what I want.”
Ah, now they were getting somewhere.
Still, Tucker couldn’t resist messing with the guy a little. “Maybe I do, maybe I don’t. Enlighten me, just in case I’m wrong.”
“Don’t toy with us,” Miguel snarled. “You have no idea what we’re capable of doing to get what we need.”
“Oh, but I do,” Tucker countered, grim and serious. “You forget that I’ve already dealt with you people once before.”
The other man cursed in Spanish. “How much do you want?”
This startled Tucker and at first he couldn’t think of an answer. Miguel took his silence for assent.
“All right. How about $500,000 U.S. dollars? Tell us where the money is and you can have that for a cut.”
Tucker couldn’t help it—he laughed. “One twentieth? Why in the hell would I take that?”
“It’s our money. It doesn’t belong to you.”
“It does now.” Tucker gave a slow, deliberate chuckle. “Deal with that. Let’s see, ten million versus five hundred thousand. Hmm. You do the math.”
Miguel started to speak, but Tucker cut him off. “You think about it, my friend, and come up with a better deal. I’ll be in touch.”
Then, while Miguel was still sputtering, Tucker disconnected the call.
Replacing the receiver, he realized his palms were sweating. He wiped them off on his jean coveralls and headed for his bike. Time to get back home and then call Finn and let him know he’d done as he’d been told.
“I thought I saw Tucker today,” Lucy told Sean, while she peeled potatoes at the kitchen sink. She’d deliberately chosen that moment to make her statement sound more casual.
Behind her, she could sense Sean going all motionless.
“Where?” Sean asked.
“It wasn’t him,” she hastened to say. “Just some guy that sort of resembled him. Except this guy had a beard and wore jean overalls and a John Deere cap.”
“In other words,” Sean said slowly. “The perfect disguise.”
She hadn’t thought of that. “Why would he need to disguise himself?” Then she gasped as she realized why, gripping the sink. “He’s hiding from us. Oh, my God.”
“Not from us.” Sean shook his head. “From them. The drug cartel.”
She stared. “He escaped from them, remember? Are you saying they might have come after him?”
“All I know is what I told you. Some Mexican guy showed up at work, asking for him.”
“From the cartel?”
“No. He said he was with the Mexican Consulate,” Sean told her. “Which is why I sort of wonder if all this is in Tucker’s head.”
Lucy rubbed her temple. “Not real? This is too much. Maybe we can ask the FBI or the DEA or whoever?”
“Maybe we can mind our own business,” Sean pointed out gently. “Either way, Tucker is convinced someone is after him. If no one is, it’ll play out over time and we can make sure he gets help. If the drug cartel really is, then I’m sure he’s doing what he thinks is right.”
“Maybe. But then why is he avoiding us? Surely he knows we won’t betray him.”
“No doubt he has his reasons.” Sean cleared his throat. “He told me to tell you he’ll try to see Eli as soon as he can, but it won’t be anytime soon.”
“You talked to him?” Shaking, she set down the potato peeler and clasped her hands together to try to hide this. Finally, she turned to face Sean. “Is he all right?”
A look of annoyance flashed across Sean’s patrician features. “He sounded just fine. He’s a big boy.”
“Let me get this straight. Either Tucker is having a breakdown or has PTSD, or the Mexican drug cartel is after him.” Hands on hips, she glared at her fiancé. “But you think leaving him to deal with either of these alone is just fine.”
“I’m sure he can handle himself.” Sean’s response sounded weak.
“Not if he has PTSD. He needs to get some help.”
“Let’s not go jumping to conclusions,” Sean cautioned. “There’s a very real chance that he is in danger.”
“And again, you think he can handle himself. Against the Mexican drug cartel?” Dizzy, she closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she shook her head. “Did you offer to help him? Either way, no matter which scenario is true, did you offer him your assistance?”
Instead of answering right away, Sean watched her intently. Finally, he asked a question of his own. “Did you want me to?”
She didn’t understand. “What kind of a question is that? Of course I want you to help him. Why wouldn’t you?”
“Because if I did, I might be putting my own life in danger,” he said slowly. “And if he really has PTSD, I’m sure he’s a
ware of the possibility and has access to get his own help.”
“You didn’t answer the question,” she said. “Did you offer to help him?”
“No.” The answer burst from him. “If he wanted my help, he would ask for it. If the Cartel is after him, I’d be at risk. As would you and Eli. Would you want that?”
He was talking crazy. But at least now she understood why. Once again, his jealousy of Tucker had reared its ugly head, obscuring reason and common sense.
Though she knew she should cross the room and wrap her arms around him, she didn’t want to. She had enough to worry about without having to soothe his fears every time Tucker’s name was mentioned.
“Stop it.” Holding his gaze, she kept her voice quiet, her tone reasonable. “Why are you acting like Tucker is the enemy?”
Now he looked down, flushing. “Because you loved him so much,” he finally mumbled. “And I’m afraid—”
“Don’t be.” Now she did go to him and put her arms around him. “I’m engaged to you, not him. What he and I had is over.”
His eyes searched hers. “Are you sure about that?”
She nodded. “Yes. Sean, I asked Tucker not to go to Mexico. You know what, but you don’t know why. I told him he was gone too much. I wanted more, and Tucker…” To her mortification, her voice broke.
Clearing her throat, she continued. “Tucker didn’t. He promised we’d talk when he got back, but he never returned.”
“But he did, Lucy.” Pushing out of her embrace, he stepped away. “That’s the thing. He’s back now. You have a child together. How do I know you and he won’t pick up right where you left off?”
“Because of this.” She held up her ring finger, flashing her engagement ring at him. “How well do you know me, Sean? Do you really think I’d cheat on you with him?”
He had the grace to look ashamed. “Well, no. But—”
“No buts. Either you trust me or you don’t.”
“I trust you, Lucy.” But he didn’t sound certain. “It’s him I don’t trust.”
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