by Desiree Holt
He was silent on the rest of the drive. Lisa took in the scenery as it flashed past, fascinated by the lush tropical foliage everywhere, the adobe houses with Spanish tile roofs and the bright sun that lit everything up like a Technicolor movie.
The Holiday Inn Express bordered a residential section at the edge of downtown Cancun. Ethan pulled into a side street before entering the hotel parking lot, reached under his seat, and retrieved a package.
Lisa watched in amazement as he broke the tape and pulled out two guns, two boxes of bullets, and an envelope he tucked into his jacket pocket.
He glanced up and caught her stare. “What? I told you someone would take care of the fire power.”
“So that man who brought the car really—”
“Doesn’t work for the car rental place.”
Lisa wanted to ask for more explanation, but that was all he would say. And she wasn’t about to push it.
He loaded both guns and leaned forward to stick one in his waistband at the small of his back. The other he gave to her.
“Put this in your purse. Now. And don’t leave it anywhere.”
She complied with hands that shook only slightly.
In the hotel parking lot, he locked the car and towed her into the lobby.
“Reservations for Ed and Lily Cameron,” he told the clerk and grinned as he handed over a credit card. “We’re on our honeymoon so tell the maid I might be leavin’ the Do Not Disturb sign on the door now and then.”
“Si, senor.” The clerk smiled at him and handed over the plastic key cards.
Up in their room, Ethan pulled the drapes shut, then spent fifteen minutes checking out every inch of the room, including lampshades and furniture.
“Looking for gold?” Lisa asked.
He put his fingers to his lips and mouthed, “Making sure we aren’t bugged.”
She felt the blood leave her face but stood silently while he finished his examination.
At last, he nodded his head. “We’re clear.”
She swallowed. “But—but no one knew we were coming except the people you talked to. And who’d bug Lily and Ed Cameron’s room?”
“I’ll remind you again someone shot at us. I don’t know if they were after me or you, but I don’t plan on it happening again. People like this can find out anything they want to know if something alerts them. And you never know what that could be. If it’s you, then it definitely has to do with Jamie and someone is going to a lot of trouble to make sure we don’t get any answers.”
Her breath caught in her throat. “Do you think that means he’s alive?”
“I think it means there’s a possibility, so we have to be more than careful. I managed to stay alive all these years by doing that. I don’t intend to stop now.”
Lisa sat down in one of the big armchairs, her legs suddenly weak. She kept forgetting just what kind of life Ethan Caine had lived and how dangerous the mission they were on could prove to be. For both of them.
Looking around the room, she realized it had only one bed. A king. She swallowed again.
Ethan caught her glance, and a rough laugh rumbled out of his throat.
“We’re on our honeymoon, remember, Lily? It might have looked a bit suspicious if I asked for two rooms or even two beds.”
“But—”
He held up his hand. “We’ll figure it out later. Meanwhile, we have shit to do. I want to check out the cantina myself where Las Tormentas hangs out before I drag you into it. Besides, I need to home in on the weak link in that group. Someone who can be bribed or pressured to confirm that Las Tormentas actually did the deed and tell me where they took Jamie.”
She got up from the chair. “I’m going with you.”
In a blink, he was crowding her space. “Did you hear me? Have you forgotten our arrangement already? I call the shots.”
“But—”
“Uh uh.” He made a sound of disgust. “There you go with the buts again, Lisa.” His voice was hard and firm. “I’ve done this a hundred times before. Here and elsewhere. I know what I’m doing, and now I’m wasting valuable time arguing with you.” He reached into the packet from the car and pulled out a map. “Here. I have an assignment for you.”
“Assignment?” She raised an eyebrow.
“This is more detailed than the ones we looked at. I need to know every road on here that leads into the Roo. Some of them are just little spider trails. There’s a marker in the packet. Mark every one out of Playa del Carmen that will take us into the jungle. I don’t know yet which one we’ll use.”
“I think I can manage.” But her sarcasm was wasted on him.
He turned toward the door. “Lock the deadbolt, and don’t open it for anyone but me. No matter what.”
“Wait.” She reached out a hand to his arm. “If anyone’s watching us, won’t they think it’s strange you going off like this when we’re on our honeymoon?”
“Why, honey,” he drawled, back in his newlywed mode, “I’ll just make sure they know you need a nap because I tired you out so much last night. And I’m off to buy you a trinket in appreciation.” He turned back at the door. “Put the deadbolt on as soon as this door closes. Do not open it unless it’s me on the other side. No matter what.”
He slapped his battered Panama hat on his head and was gone.
Lisa stared after him at the closed door, a tense thrill of excitement keying her nerves. She was trying not to get her hopes up too much, but this was the closest they’d come in months to finding some kind of an answer. Could Ethan do it? Could he put aside the nightmare he was living with to see this through? She had to believe the answer was yes. He was, after all, her one last hope in this tragedy.
She looked at the map on the table, glad she’d have something to occupy her mind while she waited. The first thing she did, however, was take off the wig. God, that thing was hot. And itchy. She set it on the counter and ran her fingers through her hair. She hoped she’d have time for a shampoo before she had to put the beastly thing on tomorrow. She left the makeup on, however. Too much trouble to redo it as heavy as it was. Then she sat down at the table, map spread out, and picked up one of the markers. She automatically looked at her watch, wondering how long he’d be gone, leaving her to her nerves and anxiety.
Hurry, Ethan.
****
La Mama’s was exactly like a million other bars and cantinas Ethan had spent time in over the course of what he euphemistically called his career. Dark, an extreme contrast to the bright tropical sun outside. A long bar on one side, tables filling the rest of the ell-shaped space. Not clean, not dirty. Dingy. Shopworn. The backwater of life.
This was the place Dino had told him Las Tormentas spent their recreational time. Ethan made it a point to wander the area aimlessly, stopping in several cantinas along the way, spending a few minutes in each one before finally entering La Mama’s. He took a deep breath to settle himself and kicked his brain into gear. Time to put his demons in the closet and do what he was supposed to. What he’d been trained for. What he’d committed to. Maybe if he succeeded at this, he could reclaim a little bit of his soul.
He ambled into the cool darkness wearing a slightly befuddled expression, blinked against the sudden absence of light, and finally sat down at a table in the far corner. In his wrinkled khakis and outrageously designed shirt, he could have been any tourist come to town. Hat tilted slightly over his face, he let his eyes roam the room, taking in every detail.
Only three people sat at the bar. The rest were spread out at the tables. The customers were mostly men, only two of them with women. They looked like tourists who’d lost their way, huddling together while they tried to appear relaxed.
Ethan had a bad feeling about the situation, and he hadn’t ordered his first drink yet. Unless the evening crowd changed a lot, bringing Lisa here tonight had all the makings of a colossal disaster. He’d hoped there would be enough of a mixture of people they could blend in, but it looked like that idea was shot to
hell.
Damn that woman, anyway. He should have tied her up and locked her in a closet in Tampa until this was over. They’d have to really play the honeymoon couple determined to soak up some local color. He’d never get what he needed in this place with just one visit. All he could do this afternoon was identify his most likely pigeon and how to make a connection tonight. And hope the guy would still be there.
Shit! This would probably turn out to be the clusterfuck of all time.
He turned his attention to the opposite corner of the room by the archway leading to what he assumed were the restrooms. A group of nine men was drinking at two tables pushed together.
The man at the obvious center of activity was thin with a heavy moustache and thick, dark shoulder-length hair. The heavy gold R, encrusted with diamonds and hanging from a chain at his throat, was easy to see even at a distance. R for Rafael. Rafael Cortez. Undisputed leader of the deadly group.
Ethan dredged up what Dino had told him about the group and its leader. Rafael Cortez had seen both his parents killed in a raid on their village by guerillas. At fourteen, he’d found a new family when a member of Las Tormentas discovered him hiding in the mountains. Twenty years later, his obstacles to leadership had been eliminated and he was the undisputed ruler.
The group had a long history of violence, fighting for nothing except to protect their own corner of the world. It was common knowledge they made their living through kidnapping. According to everything Dino had learned, including Charles Mallory’s five-year history in the area, this was the group most likely to have taken Jamie. Now he had to pin down some facts. Make sure this didn’t turn into a wild goose chase.
“Drink, senor?” The waitress smiled at him.
She was a carbon copy of a million others he’d seen. Not too young, maybe late thirties. A tired face brightened by red lipstick, her slightly plump body attractive in the full skirt and peasant blouse. Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. And a potential source of information.
“Yeah, I’ll take a beer. Gracias.” He pronounced it almost like gracious, concealing the fact he spoke fluent Spanish.
“We don’t get too many tourists in here,” she remarked.
He motioned for her to bend down to him and dropped his voice. “What’s your name, honey?”
“Deloris.”
“Well, Deloris, I’m on my honeymoon. My wife’s taking a little nap right now, but we’re gonna hit a few bars tonight. She’s not much for fancy places. It’s not like I’m short on pesos or anything. But some of those fancy hotel bars and restaurants charge as much for a drink as I make in a week.”
Deloris gave a small laugh “That is true.”
“So a buddy of mine said we could find lots of places down here in Cancan Centro. Where the folks who live here go. I’m checkin’ ’em out this afternoon.” He leaned close again. “Gotta show the little woman a good time, right?”
“Si, senor. But this might not be such a good place to take her.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” He glanced at the bar. “Looks like you got a bouncer to keep out the riff raff.” He nodded toward the man behind the bar, who he estimated as not more than five foot five. He guessed his weight at no less than four hundred.
“Oh, that’s Mama. The owner.”
“Mama’s a man?” Ethan thought slapping his knee might be carrying the act a little too far. “No kidding? Well, I guess he doesn’t get much trouble in here.”
“No, senor.” She moved away from him. “I’ll get your beer.”
He slouched in his chair with his hat tilted over his forehead and watched Deloris swivel her way across the room. Rafael motioned to her as she stepped up to the bar, and she moved over to him. He said something, and Ethan saw her nod in his direction, then giggle. Rafael smiled, a grimace in a death’s head, and stared across the room at Ethan. Then he turned to his men and made some remark, and they all laughed.
Ethan pretended not to notice, but he was sure the remark was crude and disgusting. Good. So much the better. They’d think him harmless.
When Deloris brought his second beer, he slipped a twenty into her hand. “Keep the change, sweetheart.”
He nursed his drink for several minutes, watching the actions of the men at the table. There was an obvious pecking order, designated by where they sat in relation to el jefe. He focused on one man at the far end of the table. Everyone seemed to ignore him for the most part, until someone wanted something. Then he became the gofer. Not a man with much power, the kind most easily turned. Or bought.
“Those folks over there seem like they’re having a good time,” he commented to Deloris, making his voice as casual as possible. “They from the neighborhood?”
She shrugged. “Here and there.”
“Who’s the guy in the middle? Looks interestin’.” He dropped a fifty on the table, and she quickly palmed it. “Just between you and me, senorita.” He winked.
“That’s Rafael Cortez. El jefe. Mucho hombre.” She wiggled her eyebrows, but the smile on her face didn’t get anywhere near her eyes.
“And the little skinny guy? He doesn’t look too happy.”
“Tonio. The peon. He does el jefe’s bidding.”
“I’d say he’s not havin’ as good a time as everyone else,” Ethan commented in his exaggerated drawl.
“No. I’d say not. He has a wife and child, or I think he might not be here at all.” She tucked the money into her pocket with barely any movement. “I talk too much. I must go, senor. They will want more drinks.”
“Looks like they’ve had plenty already.”
“Oh, no, not yet. When they come in they are here until closing.”
Okay. So tonight, the alcohol would have softened his mark a little more. And hopefully made everyone else let down their guard just a tiny bit.
Deloris walked away, hips swaying. Cortez motioned to her again. She said something to him, and the man laughed. He gave Ethan a look of contempt.
Finally, Ethan stood up, making a show of dropping a couple of dollars on the table for Deloris and made his way to the door. He forced himself not to look over his shoulder as he walked slowly along the three blocks to where his car was parked. The middle of his back itched, as if eyes were fastened on him.
He stopped at a tiny neighborhood bakery right near his car, ostensibly to look at the pastries in the window, and slid his eyes to the right. Sure enough, one of the men at Rafael’s table was about half a block behind him. When Ethan stopped, the guy leaned against a street light and lit a cigarette.
He’d been right. Strangers attracted too much attention, and Rafael was apparently suspicious of everyone. He wished he had more than one day to do this, time to establish himself as a harmless gringo bum who didn’t raise anyone’s eyebrows. Well, it couldn’t be helped. He was stuck with what he had.
Deciding to play out the role of honeymooner, Ethan stepped into the bakery and bought some wedding pastries for Lisa, a tactic to throw off his shadow. He didn’t give a damn if she ate them, although she could certainly afford to indulge. The last time he’d seen a woman that skinny was in a hospital. He was actually surprised that Lisa handled the physical training as well as she did. He’d expected her to collapse before they got to the halfway mark.
The woman was an enigma. She was both tough and fragile, accepting and rejecting. His body had reactions to hers that made being near her hazardous, and the proximity this task demanded made it even more perilous. It wasn’t just the physical attraction that frightened him. In her eyes, he saw the same fires of hell that burned in him. A kindred soul. The most dangerous kind. Somehow, he’d have to figure out how to handle her while getting the job done. A daunting task.
He emerged from the bakery carrying his little box of pastries and whistling tunelessly as he made it to the car.
Everything nice and slow, Caine. Remember, you’re going back there later. Don’t stir the pot.
As he pulled out of his parking space, he glanced in t
he rearview mirror and saw the same member of Las Tormentas standing in front of the bakery. The man took a final drag on the cigarette and ground it out deliberately under his foot. He watched until the car pulled away and blended into the chaos that was Cancun traffic.
Ethan let out a slow breath, forcing himself to relax. Bringing Lisa with him when he came back here was sheer idiocy, but he’d set himself up for it. He just hoped he didn’t get her killed. He didn’t think he could handle one more death on his watch.
Chapter Ten
Lisa had studied the map and finished marking the very narrow routes into the jungle within the first half hour after Ethan left. After that, she was reduced to pacing and staring at her watch until she decided that would get her nowhere. Besides, she was tired, exhausted enough from tension and the hard week of workouts that, even on edge, she was sure she could nap a little. Then she’d be alert for whatever Ethan had in store when he returned.
She slipped off her shoes, turned back the spread on the bed, and sipped beneath the covers. Even if she didn’t sleep, at least she could try to rest and store up her energy. But the moment her eyes closed Ethan’s form danced in her dream.
He was naked, his body just as hard and firm as it had seemed beneath his T-shirt and workout pants. His cock rose proudly from a nest of curls at his groin, the head a dark purple. A tiny bead of fluid rested at the slit. She couldn’t tear her eyes away.
His laugh was deep and rough.
“Like what you see? Because I sure do.”
His eyes raked over her from head to toe. At first, she’d been hesitant about being naked with him. She hadn’t been with a man in a long time, and after Jamie was born, Charles had done little to instill confidence in her as a woman. But the heat and hunger in Ethan’s dark eyes made her nipples harden and ache for his touch. The walls of her pussy clenched with need.
He reached out to cup her breasts with his warm hands, his palms rough against her soft skin, but the feeling of abrasion only ramped up her reaction to him. The scent of her musk was so strong she knew he could sense it.
