“What else can I do?”
He swallowed hard. “Get hold of their families and explain what happened. Have them report the girls missing. Call the embassy and do the same. Go back and retrace their steps. Maybe somebody saw something. Make sure to take copies of pictures you can leave wherever you go. If you have any pictures from the night they disappeared, those would be best. Are you getting this?”
“Yes! Of course,” she said breathlessly. “I’m writing it all down.”
“Get a new number, one that can’t be traced back to you. Write it down on the back of the picture along with the name of the girls, their description, and whatever they were wearing that night.” He waited while she finished jotting that down. Hopefully, the task list would keep her busy. “You want people to contact you, but you’re better off if they don’t have your personal information. You’ll have to toss the phone once this is over. And if you hear from anyone, you call me to follow up.” The last thing he needed was for her to follow a lead on her own.
“I understand,” she said.
His heart went out to her. Moni was the one kink in his armor. He felt like an ass letting her worry when he should be there for support, if not to safely deliver Tessa. Ugh. He could almost picture walking Tessa into his aunt’s house, wearing nothing but his shirt. Then having to explain how he had to treat her in front of the crew. Yeah, that’d go over real well.
Shuffling pans in the background caught his attention. The unaccustomed longing for his childhood home hit him out of nowhere. “You’re in the kitchen.” He smiled, imagining her in the spacious kitchen with their long-time cook at the stove. “Soledad is fixing breakfast.”
“Yes,” Moni sniffed. “She’s trying to kill me.”
Kris raised a brow, knowing she’d have some quirky explanation.
“I haven’t slept the last two nights, my nerves are stretched thin, my stomach is in knots, and she makes chorizo and egg for breakfast,” she lamented and Kris grinned. “I’m actually hoping for a bad case of heartburn instead of having my stomach explode.”
An image of her exaggerated facial expressions flashed through his mind. Too much time had gone by since he’d spent time with his favorite cousin. He’d come to town Saturday, two days ahead of schedule, so he could slip into her graduation long enough to see her and a few others become doctors. If he hadn’t been keeping tabs, he wouldn’t have ended up at the club trying to round up Heather.
“I feel so guilty. She was here to spend time with me and I left her alone.” She started sobbing all over again. “I was going to get up early Sunday so I could see you…”
Kris closed his eyes, mouthing an obscenity. “I’m sorry I had to cancel.” Somehow, everything to do with Tessa Marshal landed at his feet.
The dark comforter caught his attention, reminding him of the bed he’d slept in last night and the perplexing woman he’d shared it with. She’d gravitated toward him in her sleep. As much as he wanted to touch her, he wouldn’t do it while she was being held. While he doubted they’d ever end up together, she was the first one in a long time he’d considered bringing to his bed.
His body reacted to the image in its usual manner. He frowned, stuck between wanting to roll around in bed with her and throttling her for messing with his family. I need facts. Where the hell was Ida? He couldn’t break protocol and reach out to Ida for personal gain. The call would bring questions and complicate an already difficult situation.
“You know, you might be able to get the U.S. interested. One of their political big wigs is coming in for a visit next week. If you make enough noise, the press will be all over two missing Americans. That will pressure the authorities to move on this.”
“I hope so. I’ll never forgive myself if anything happened to her.”
And she might never forgive him if she found out what he was keeping from her. “This will at least get things started,” he assured her. “Call me if you hear from them first.”
“Okay,” she sniffed. “Anything else I should do?”
“Yeah,” he said, trying to make her understand the gravity of the situation, “Pray.”
…
“Hope you’re hungry,” he said coming into the bedroom. A sudden gust sent the door crashing against the wall behind him.
Tessa’s heart fluttered. The yard was a few feet away, unguarded. The rental sat just beyond the stairs. Freedom.
Her eyes met his. He waited, tracking her movements.
Knee. Groin. Neck. A dozen ways to attack. She took a step. He took another. Her pulse hammered against her throat. All the scenarios from yesterday flashed through her mind—as well as the endings.
She stopped, fighting every instinct yelling to escape. Instead, she reached for one of the bags he carried and shuffled away, toward the dresser. The lock clicked behind her. She squeezed her eyes shut, swallowing a trace of regret before she turned, bumping straight into his chest.
Kris wrapped his hand around her arm to steady her. She sidestepped to avoid his boots and ended up cradled against him by a scalding hand at the middle of her back. They were pressed together from the inside of her knee to her flattened breasts. On hand landed at his belt, fingers spread down toward his pocket. Her eyes flitted across the broad expanse of his chest, then up to his face.
Desire, heady and intoxicating, met her gaze. She went weak. Holy mother. Every inch of her body was acutely aware of him. Her nostrils filled with his scent, clean male with a hint of subtle cologne. She parted her lips, barely able to breathe. The last time they’d kissed, he’d stared down at her, desire glimmering in those blue eyes, his body naked and aroused, poised to continue what they’d started as a farce.
A shiver ran through her, rousing a mass of wicked sensations. After a long moment of soul-stealing silence, she retrieved her hand and stepped back, swallowing hard. Somehow, she’d managed not to stretch far enough to taste those lips.
“You’re stronger than I imagined.”
Did he mean for not running or for stepping back? He wasn’t exactly pushing her away. But then he wasn’t bringing her close, either. When she looked up, he was contemplating her, half suspicious, half curious. His warm palm slid down her arm to tenderly cup her wrist, the back of his fingers brushing against the side of her body along the way.
Tessa exhaled, trying not to think about how his jeans felt drawing along the inside of her thigh. “I value what little freedom I have.” She raised the arm he’d held and pulled back one of his digits with each statement. “If I ran, I’d likely pitch myself off the stairs and break my neck. If I cleared the stairs, you’d catch me since you have longer legs and know the area. If I made it past you, where would I go without help? If you dragged me back here, I’d likely end up tied up like an animal again.”
He searched her face, pensive.
She held his hand by the index finger and redirected him to the dresser.
“For now, I believe you were going to feed me.” She gave him a smile so contrived it didn’t reach the corners of her mouth.
“I brought pancakes.”
“Mmm, sounds good.”
“I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I got a couple each of pecan, blueberry, and strawberry.” He set the other bag down. “I also had them throw in a couple of bananas so you’d have something to snack on if you got hungry.” He popped open the Styrofoam containers to check inside.
His scent was finally replaced by warm pancakes and strawberries. Her mouth watered. Every item he set out helped convince her she’d made the right decision. If she’d run, she’d be tied up in a corner now instead of wanting to hug him for being thoughtful. She swallowed the emotion. Any woman would feel special having a man think about pleasing her, wouldn’t she?
“Tessa?” He pulled up her chin, staring at her with concern. “Did you hear me?”
Every time he did something unexpected, she had to remind herself he was a thug. A high-end thug, but a thug, nonetheless. Should I trust you? I’m not sure
I know how.
“You bring me strawberries and you expect me to be able to concentrate.”
His eyebrow rose in skepticism.
She bit her lip. Yeah, that wasn’t going to fly. Taking a deep breath, she gave him a little bit of the truth. “I’m sorry. I’m going stir-crazy with nothing to do all day.”
“Hmmm.” He gave a quick nod. “I thought about that last night. I’d just asked if you can read Spanish.”
“Some, but I’m a little slow.”
“I brought something for you.” He held up Steven King’s latest paperback translated into Spanish. “Figured reading would distract you for a while.”
She reached for the book, speechless.
“If you can’t manage it, I’ll track down something in English for you.”
Damn if he wasn’t making it harder and harder to hate him. “This will do just fine.” For the first time in days, her lips drifted into a real smile.
…
An hour later, Kris had counted and separated the cash into four piles, most of which would go to different banks. Drug money was laundered through deposits to legitimate businesses. Even in Mexico, money had to go through channels so the government wouldn’t come poking around. Millions of dollars that couldn’t be deposited sat in the closet, a chest of drawers, or camouflaged with a floral bedspread.
He tossed a bag over his shoulder and picked up two briefcases. On his way out, he nodded to Felipe, who would stay behind this morning. Felipe checked the perimeter from the window. He gave Kris the “all clear” and opened the front door for him.
“Later,” Kris called over his shoulder.
“Catch you this afternoon.”
He double-checked the yard before heading to the truck. He wasn’t going to let someone sneak up on him. Not an easy task at this location, but he never left anything to chance.
He locked himself in the truck, then stashed the cases behind the seat. Out of habit, he scanned the area before pulling out of the driveway. Jaime waved him through from his post across the street. Damn, he had to get this kid out of here and back in school before it was too late.
The house disappeared from the rearview a few blocks later. He exhaled and stretched his neck to work the stiff muscles.
Looking after Tessa was proving harder than he’d expected. What he wouldn’t give to be back at those few seconds when she was under him, her damp hair spread out and desire darkening her eyes. Back when it was about him wanting a woman and he didn’t know she was involved with his family. His breath shot out in a rough exhale. Regardless of his personal feelings, when she was cold and scared, huddled in his arms, he could set aside his doubt way too easily. That wasn’t like him. Reading people was one thing he was good at. Good enough to keep him alive and excelling in the cartel. You could count on one hand the number of times people had surprised him. Today was one for the books.
When he’d thrown open the door, her eyes had showed her intent. Thinking to escape was a natural reaction. His mind had captured a dozen different scenarios she might try while his arms were full. He’d been on the brink of dropping the bags when she’d stepped up and taken one. For a fleeting moment, defeat had etched her delicate features. His heart had constricted, pelting him with doubts all over again. He’d planned to offer comfort and encouragement…until she’d landed at his side then proceeded to melt against him. How easy would it have been to just run his hand to the back of her head and kiss her?
The chemistry between them needed little encouragement to spark to life. Jesus, she could take over every one of his thoughts without even trying. If he had any sense, he’d throw a condom in his wallet, just in case he finally broke. He’d been on the brink of giving in more than once. She felt too damn good sleeping next to him. He’d been sorely tested to let her turn and snuggle into his chest. God, his hands itched to curl around those hips and bring her against his aching cock.
Fuck.
Ever since she’d showed up, he’d been struck half stupid. That damn shower scene kept playing in his mind. Every piece of clothing she’d taken off. The initial shock of cold water. Running that fossilized piece of soap over every curve then down between...
He could almost regret the episode…almost. She was magnificent in her anger, fire and passion in a dainty, little package. That anger had fueled her through moments that would have brought any other woman to tears. Her survival instincts were to be commended. Hell, today they’d been better than his had been over the last few days. Thinking past that soft body against his had been impossible. If she hadn’t been the one to move away—
His cell rang in the glove box.
“Morning, lover,” came Ida’s low voice. “You ready to talk?”
I’ve been waiting all fuckin’ night. “Yes, I’m good.”
“How’s everything going?” she asked with a note of concern.
“So far, so good. Company will arrive on Thursday. We’re trying to prevent any surprises.”
“Brilliant, my love,” she said impressed. “Everything is secure?”
“Yes, we’re set up at the airport for safety’s sake. I’ll be on shift and out of touch this afternoon.”
“Perfect. I got all the party favors you wanted.”
Multiple raids were set for Thursday morning. Rio and his group would be hitting the airport hangar, where all the bosses were set to meet. “Do you have something for me, gorgeous?”
“Yes, but that will have to wait,” she said with an exaggerated sigh. “As for your pigeons, I got some info for you. Heather Tucker, female, twenty-six years old. Permit shows she entered Mexico Friday, due to have flown out Sunday at five p.m. She’s currently employed at a retail store in San Antonio, TX. Makes ten dollars and twenty-five cents an hour, checking account had numerous overdrafts, most expenses are at the same mall where she works. No utilities under her name, seems to be living with a boyfriend, Leroy Jones, on and off for the past few of months. Jones is on the radar with the local authorities as a small-time narcotics dealer trying to move up in the world. Parents live in Converse, just outside San Antonio. Dad works for the water department, mom is a teacher. One sister is in the Air Force, currently stationed overseas. The other lives in North Carolina, married, with three kids. Oh, and Heather’s not a natural blonde.”
“Fine. Nothing surprising,” he stated. “What else?”
“Now things get interesting. Tessa Marshal, twenty-seven year old female. Permit shows she entered Mexico Friday, due to have flown out Sunday at five p.m. She’s currently employed as IT for a transportation company, does medical coding on a freelance basis, had a third weekend job as IT for a cable company. Her four credit cards got slashed when the banks restructured.” She scoffed. “Lives alone, mom passed away, dad hasn’t been in the picture since she was a kid. No other relatives.”
He closed his eyes and cursed under his breath. “A dove.”
“Not so fast…” Ida paused, for emphasis. “She emptied out her savings account the day she flew to Mexico.” She tsked in disapproval.
Was Heather telling the truth? “Cash?”
“No, but the cashier’s check hasn’t cleared.”
Shit, back where I started.
“Both girls shared an address for three years. Tucker’s electricity and phone were disconnected numerous times due to late payment. Marshal was punctual. Her bank statements show payment for self-defense classes. Might be dangerous, be careful around her, just in case,” she said in afterthought.
Kris smiled to himself. Yeah, more than you know. “I’ll have to keep that in mind.”
“See you in a couple of days. Be safe, my love.”
“Will do, beautiful. I’m counting the hours.”
She blew a kiss into the phone and hung up.
Tessa could be caught up in something she wasn’t aware of. He’d have to figure out how to follow the money for a better view of the situation. What if Heather had talked her into a quick trip to Mexico to triple her money in one
weekend? She wouldn’t be the first to choose the easy way out.
…
A plush, manicured lawn lay on either side of the long, curving drive leading up to the mansion owned by former Governor Eliseo Sanchez Guevara.
Kris parked the truck amid an array of luxury cars. His midnight-blue and silver 4x4 off-road stuck out like a poor cousin. In reality, his truck was worth as much or more than the toys his boss kept. Customizing a vehicle with armor didn’t come cheap. Making the four-wheel drive look inconspicuous added to the final tally. But all anyone saw was a sporty truck with a customized brush guard and high-end rims.
He grabbed the last bag of money then went around front. Manuel, the former Governor’s bodyguard, met him at the door. He greeted Kris with a familiar handshake and allowed him in. While Manuel was friendly, he had a healthy respect for Kris. The sentiment was not reciprocated. He was a mountain of a man with the common sense of a high school teen.
They entered the study to find their boss at his desk, smoking a cigar as he surfed the internet. He sat back in his imported leather chair with a satisfied smile.
“Kristobal, how are things?” he asked casually.
Kris knew an answer wasn’t necessary or expected. Without a word, he dropped the duffle bag on the desk. Manuel opened the double zippers, then retreated a half-step.
Their boss laughed gleefully around his hand-rolled cigar. “You’ve done very well, Kristobal.” He nodded enthusiastically. “Once we work things out with our new allies, you’ll pull in cash like this for yourself.”
“I’ll start my Christmas list,” he said, tone dry.
“Ah, you’re still righteous.” He pointed the cigar and squinted. “Wait until your hair turns as gray as mine. You’ll like the easy life money can bring.” He opened his arms to indicate the walls around him.
Desire & Deception Page 9
