Undercover Wife

by Debra Webb

  No point fretting over the unavoidable, she reasoned. She might as well get past it. With that firmly resolved in her mind, Erin dragged the duffels into the bedroom, her own first and then Logan’s.

  She surveyed the mirrored dresser and matching bureau and decided she’d take the dresser. Staying busy would keep her thoughts off this place and Esteban. While she worked, she plotted Jeff’s fall. Erin smiled. Now there was a distraction.

  By the time she had neatly stored her things, she’d devised a master plan for taking Jeff down. She’d provoke him into confessing while Logan taped the whole thing. She frowned and glanced at the digital clock on the bedside table. Speaking of Logan, where was he?

  She supposed that he and Esteban had important business to discuss, but surely it didn’t take this long. With a shrug she opened Logan’s duffel. She was his wife after all, right? Putting his things away would fall under that job description.

  A person could tell a lot by the way a man dressed. With Jeff, he’d been all flash and charm. Always perfectly dressed, if not in a suit, then in designer khakis and a sweater. Never, ever would he have been caught dead—the mere idea made her a little giddy—in T-shirts and mere jeans.

  But Logan, he wasn’t like that at all. His jeans were well-worn. She smoothed her hand over the pair she’d just taken from the duffel. He didn’t need fancy labels to give him confidence, she decided as she arranged his jeans in one of the bureau drawers. He was confident enough in himself that he didn’t have to belittle others to feel good about who he was. She cringed now when she thought of all the times she’d let her former fiancé make her feel unworthy, both professionally and personally.

  That would never happen again. She pushed the drawer closed and moved on to the shirts. After this, no one would ever be able to tell her that she couldn’t do anything she set her mind to. No way.

  By the time Logan’s button-down shirts were all hanging in the closet, she’d been dancing and singing around the room. She hoped Esteban or whoever was listening enjoyed her tone-deaf renditions.

  She reached into the duffel, all the way to the bottom, and came up empty-handed. A frown furrowed its way across her brow. Jeans, shirts, T-shirts, socks…what about underwear?

  Erin turned the bag upside down and shook it. She checked for hidden zippers. Nothing. She stored the empty duffels in the closet and leaned against the closed door for a second to consider where she hadn’t looked. They’d brought no other bags with them that she recalled. Nope, she was sure of it. The two duffels were it.

  One eyebrow winged above the other. Maybe he didn’t wear shorts or briefs…or boxers. Her mouth went a little dry and she swallowed convulsively. That was ridiculous, everyone wore underwear. She glanced around the room, on the bed, across the carpeted floor. Apparently Logan didn’t…unless he simply forgot to pack them. Nah, he was too detailed to forget something like that. He’d even remembered to bring along dental floss. A man who packed his dental floss definitely packed his shorts…if he wore them.

  The image of Logan in the buff immediately filled her head.

  Erin’s eyes widened. Time for that walk now. She made a quick stop in the bathroom and then checked out her new hairdo. It was a little too punkish for her taste, but she supposed it went with the outfit.

  Whatever.

  It was only acting. Actors and actresses had to dress the part, as well as play it.

  The sun was straight up noon when she stepped outside once more. It glinted off the red tiled roof and the shimmering water in the large fountain halfway between the house and the guest house she’d just exited. The leaves of the trees shifted in the gentle breeze. The climate here was perfect. A little cool early in the mornings, she recalled, but absolutely gorgeous now—as was this place. It amazed her all over again that such evil could exist within the walls of this magnificent estate.

  Erin studied the high, ivy covered walls and the tastefully placed shrubbery. Stone walks and blooming flowers of a variety she’d never seen before spilled out before her, inviting one and all. At the rear of the house, she saw that a guard tower had been built into the security wall. Just like in medieval days, she mused. Another bubbling fountain and more seating for entertaining or simply conducting meetings. At the rear of the house, the first floor looked as if it was constructed completely of glass. One look beyond the wall and she realized why that was. The ragged line of the Andes lay in the distance. Their cloud-covered peaks more grand than any painting. The view was awesome.

  Oh, yes, Esteban had taste, but lacked heart or even basic human compassion. He was evil. If Logan’s mission was successful, that evil would be eliminated.

  A frown tugged at her again. Where was Logan? She scanned the courtyard all the way to the towering walls of the fence. No one, except the ever present guards. A sinking feeling dragged the bottom out of Erin’s stomach. Where was everyone? Had something happened and she’d missed it? She hadn’t heard any gunfire or shouting or anything at all. Of course she had been preoccupied with singing.

  What if something had happened to Logan?

  Fear snaked its way around her throat.

  What if their cover had been blown already?

  A rapid succession of automatic gunfire erupted in the distance. Erin jumped behind the nearest tree. Her heart lunged into her throat. She could scarcely breathe. Where was Logan? Where had those shots come from?

  “You must return to your quarters.”

  Erin spun toward the unfamiliar male voice.

  “Where’s Logan?” she demanded, her voice thin.

  “Go back to your quarters,” the man ordered, his accented tone lethal. “Now.”

  No fear. She had to stay in character. Jess would show no fear. Erin had to prove to Logan that she could do this. No, no, no! She had to prove to herself that she could do it

  Erin squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on.”

  He was too fast for her. She felt the blow, but her brain couldn’t quite assimilate what she saw. One second he was glaring down at her, the next the butt of his weapon was coming at her.

  The world went unexpectedly black.

  Chapter Six

  “These three men should be examples to all of you,” Esteban roared, fury, hatred blazing in his eyes.

  He paced before Logan and the others, his recent kills having done nothing to abate his anger. Logan was well aware of his famous tantrums. The display he’d just witnessed only made him despise Esteban all the more. He’d cut down three members of his personal army as they pled for their lives. Logan had no way of knowing what evidence Esteban had against them. Whatever it was, it appeared to be enough to ignite one of his rampages.

  Logan usually didn’t waste sympathy on scumbags. Everyone here had signed on with a full understanding of how things worked and the risk involved. Pissing off the boss by getting greedy or running one’s mouth was outright asking for trouble. Disloyalty was not tolerated in Esteban’s circle. Logan knew it, those standing on either side of him knew it and so had the dead men.

  Still, he hated to see human life thrown away like yesterday’s trash. It made him sick to his stomach to be a part of this even for a few days. His gaze landed on the man still pacing like an agitated beast. But if pretending to be a part of this group would bring down this bastard, Logan could tolerate most anything.

  “Disloyalty is punishable by death.” Esteban paused in front of one of his most loyal followers. “Is that not true, my old friend?”

  “That’s a fact, jefe.”

  Larry Watters. Former military. Wanted in Texas for first degree murder. He and his wife had been on Esteban’s payroll for over a year now. Just the guy Logan needed to get close to.

  “And you, my newest friend—” Esteban stopped next in front of Logan “—do you have any questions?”

  Logan hitched up one corner of his mouth in a good old boy smile and looked directly into the eyes of his new boss
, his jefe. “Just one. When do we eat?”

  Esteban’s gaze held his for an endless moment, his intense expression unreadable. Absolute silence fell around them. Logan held his ground, his own gaze unwavering, never leaving the other man’s.

  Esteban burst into laughter. The others followed suit, like puppets on a string. Logan chuckled. He’d taken a chance, and he’d not only survived, he’d turned the tide of one of Esteban’s rampages. He wondered how many here had been successful at that…had even attempted it? Logan’s heart rate returned to normal as he relaxed. Now, if only he’d accomplished the first of his goals…

  “You are right, my new friend, Logan.” Esteban clapped him on the back and ushered him away from the scene of the crime. “It is well past noon. I would like to have you and your lovely wife join me for lunch.”

  Oh, yes. He was in. Logan nodded. “My wife will be thrilled.” He leaned a bit closer to Esteban. “She’s an art buff to the max.” Logan grinned. “But not to worry, she stopped collecting after we met.”

  Esteban laughed again. “Collecting, eh? I must show her my private collection. I am sure she will love it.”

  A predatory gleam sprang to life in the older man’s eyes. Logan bared his teeth to keep up the illusion of a smile. “How kind of you.” He would have to warn Bailey to watch her step with Esteban. Logan had just unwittingly made her a prime target of his other widely acclaimed bad habit—womanizing.

  When Logan reached their assigned quarters he was surprised to find it bone-chillingly quiet. He went on instant alert. Where the hell was Bailey? Fear nagged at him, but he pushed it away.

  Silently, he moved through the front room. The place appeared untouched. There were no signs of struggle. There was no sound—then he heard something. He paused near the bedroom door and listened. A softly muttered curse echoed from beyond the room. He headed toward the closed bathroom door. He reached for the knob, but hesitated. Thinking better of simply bursting in, he rapped on the polished wood surface. The last thing he wanted to do was startle her. She might say or do something out of character.

  “Baby, you in there?”

  There was a lengthy pause, then she called out through the door, “I’ll be out in a minute.”

  Logan tensed. Something was wrong. He reached for the knob again. Was she falling apart already? “I’m coming in.”

  He pushed the door open and came face-to-face with a trembling Bailey. She held a makeshift ice pack against her left temple. A bruise was darkening beneath her eye and her face looked red from crying.

  “It’s nothing,” she said quickly, her voice as shaky as the rest of her. She retreated a step.

  Fury exploded inside Logan. “What the hell happened?” His first thought was that he would kill the person responsible for this.

  She held up a hand to keep him at bay, but he ignored it, moving closer. “I’m fine, really.” She blinked rapidly at the new surge of tears he saw welling in those luminous violet eyes.

  When he’d backed her against the far wall and she could run no further, he glared down at her, too angry to comfort her at the moment. “Tell me what happened.”

  She moistened those full lips and tried to take a breath, which only caught in her chest, the way it would when someone had cried for too long. “I decided to take a walk around the grounds.” She brushed at the tears with the back of her free hand. “I heard the gunshots and I was worried…” She blinked some more and cleared her throat. “One of the guards told me to come back here, but I wanted to make sure you…you were all right.” She shrugged halfheartedly. “Apparently he took my response to his order as insubordination.”

  Logan’s fury morphed into unadulterated rage. “He hit you?”

  She nodded.

  A single tear rolled down her cheek.

  Logan snapped.

  “I’ll talk to Esteban about this,” he said tightly. He pulled her hand away and grimaced at the size on the lump on the side of her head. The bruise ran from the hairline at her temple to the corner of her left eye. “And then I’m going to kill the guy who did this.”

  He knew he was beyond rational thinking. He also knew he was overreacting. But he couldn’t slow the emotions raging out of control inside him. He gently caressed her injured cheek. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered.

  “No. Forget about it. I should have listened to him. It was my mistake.” She clutched his hand tightly, desperately in hers and pulled it away from the evidence of the brutality she’d endured. “Don’t make it worse…I don’t…” Her voice trailed off. She squeezed her eyes shut. “I don’t want to make trouble.”

  He had to do something. He pulled her into his arms and held her tightly to him. She felt soft and oh so fragile in his hold. There wasn’t anything he could risk saying for fear of being overheard. And even if he dared, how could he make this right? He’d known this would be the way of it. No one in this place could be trusted. The only thing he could hope for was to keep her safe from anything worse. She had no way of understanding this world…and he couldn’t fully protect her from these sleazebags. They were surrounded by people who killed for the sport of it more often than out of necessity. Brutality was their way of life. Any one of Esteban’s chosen ones would kill for him…would die for him without blinking an eye.

  There was no way to shield an innocent like the woman he held in his arms from the ugliness of Esteban’s world. Logan closed his eyes and made a silent promise to her. He would find a way to keep her safe.

  One way or another.

  ERIN HAD NEVER been so relieved in her entire life to see anyone as she was to see Logan. She’d feared the worst. Worried that he was dead and she would be next. When she’d regained consciousness the guard had already slung her over his shoulder and had almost gotten her back to their quarters. She’d kicked and pounded with her fists until he’d put her down. She’d had a hell of a time getting rid of him at the door. Threatening to scream had done the trick. She shuddered when she considered what he would likely have done to her had he gotten her inside where no one would hear her scream before she came to.

  Logan had been right. She hadn’t had a clue just how brutal these people were. She’d instinctively known better than to tell him what trouble she’d had getting rid of the guard. Logan’s possessiveness surprised her. Or maybe he just felt responsible for her general safety. That was the most likely case, she decided. Still, his reaction had been fiercer than she’d expected.

  Logan had explained in as little detail as possible that the gunfire had been Esteban executing three traitors. She shuddered again. God, how long would they live before someone discovered the truth about them? It wasn’t until she’d heard those gunshots that she realized just how much danger she and Logan really were in. This was far worse than anything she had imagined. Even though Logan had tried to warn her, she couldn’t have possibly anticipated this reality.

  LATER, AS THEY entered the main house, Erin prayed that this unexpected invitation wasn’t further cause for concern. Logan insisted it was a good sign, if she’d read between the lines accurately. They had to be extremely careful what they said and whispering would appear suspicious. The only thing Erin could do was hope for the best. They were here now. Whatever happened, would happen.

  She did feel safe as long as Logan was nearby. She glanced at the silent man at her side. Did all of his missions require that he enter this kind of lethal environment? Long-term survival in his line of work seemed slim at best. Her respect for him had grown immensely over the past few hours. Logan had to be very good at his work…otherwise they’d both be dead already.

  If she were back in Atlanta in that cell, she might be dead by now as well, considering the guard and the inmate who’d had it in for her. She wondered again how Logan had known about her troubles in prison. Maybe he’d asked other inmates about her. One of them might have overheard something. Erin glanced around the elaborately furnished hall as they continued through the house toward the dining room. At least he
re she had a chance.

  When she noticed the two armed guards waiting on either side of the dining room entrance, Erin amended that last statement. One thing was certain, they definitely weren’t in Kansas anymore and she felt exactly like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz.

  “Ah, here they are!” Esteban stood from his position at the head of the table. “Please have a seat.” He waved his hand with a flourish to indicate the expansive and elegantly laden dining table. “You’ve already met the Watterses.”

  Sheila and her husband were seated on the far side of the table. Sheila gave Erin a what-the-hell-happened-to-you look. Her husband appeared indifferent. Cortez stood near Esteban, his weapon held firmly in front of him. Another woman, thirty-five maybe, the well-dressed, sophisticated type, sat at the opposite end of the table from Esteban. Erin immediately noted the resemblance.

  “And may I present to you, my beloved sister, Maria,” Esteban announced proudly. He literally beamed with awe or respect…something on that order.

  Logan made some acknowledging comment as the woman nodded to him and then to Erin. Their eyes met and Erin had the oddest feeling. As if the woman saw right into her soul. She shook off the eerie sensation. She was a little too punchy after the incident with the butt of a rifle.

  Logan held her chair as Erin settled into it, then he sat down beside her. She forced herself to eat as the meal began, despite the fist of fear pressing firmly into her stomach. The discussion at the table remained light. Politics, weather, even the latest movie premieres were among the topics. Just like the Brady bunch, Erin mused dryly.

  Finally, after the last course, Esteban rose from his chair. “Come to me, Sara.”