by Desiree Holt
“I could do this all day, but I really do need to get to the office. Time to shower and get dressed.” She pushed herself off the bed, pulling the sheet to wrap around herself. Otherwise she was afraid she really wouldn’t get out of there.
“Do you have plans for the day? Transportation? What’s on your schedule?”
And what, she wondered, had become of her friend Deandra last night? She didn’t think the woman was into threesomes, but one never knew. Guilt nudged at her for leaving her friend that way in the bar with the two other guys. She checked her cell for a text. Nothing. Her friend knew how to take care of herself, but still…
“The guys and I have one vehicle between us, a loaner from Slade’s ranch. I need to see what’s on their schedule for the day. How about dropping me back at the hotel on your way to the office?”
Kenzi chewed on her bottom lip for a moment, forehead creased in thought. “If you want to—and only if you want to—you could take my car and drive me to work, then do whatever you like to kill time. Maybe have breakfast with your friends? I should be finished by one o’clock. If you come pick me up, we can have lunch on the Riverwalk and do…whatever.”
Heat flared in his eyes. “I’d say whatever sounds pretty damn good.”
It sounded good to her, too. She had no idea how long his leave was this time, but she hoped it would be long enough for them to satisfy the intense craving they seemed to have for each other, and have some fun when they weren’t wearing themselves out in bed.
“Well, then.” She glanced at the bedside clock. “Let me get moving here.”
“Okay. While you do that, I’ll text Alex. I’m sure he’s still asleep, but he’ll get this when he wakes up.” He tapped in the message on his phone. “Or not. Otherwise I’ll wake him when I get back.”
“Do you want to shower before we leave?”
A hungry look flashed in his eyes. “With you? Anytime.”
Now it was her turn to laugh. “Not right now. Mine will be for cleanliness. I’m on a tight time schedule here, sad to say. No extra time for fun.”
He was beside her in an instant, cupping her cheeks in his warm palms, his face so close to hers she could feel his breath on her skin.
“I can’t wait until we get to the fun part.”
He traced the seam of her lips with the tip of his tongue, nudging until she opened for him and he could slip inside.
She closed her eyes and gave herself over to the pleasure of it, reveling in the taste of him and the softness of his lips. When he drew back, she blinked to see what was wrong.
“You need to get going,” he told her in his rich, deep voice, “and if I don’t stop now, you might not get to work until Monday.”
Kenzi sighed. “Don’t tempt me.”
Then she pushed away from him and grabbed her clothes from where she’d tossed them the night before. She just hoped she’d be able to concentrate at work this morning. She breezed through her shower, dressing and makeup in record time. Hair pulled back in a clip, pearl studs in her ears and she was ready.
Trey ran his eyes over her slowly when she emerged from the bedroom. “Lady, you look good enough to eat.”
As if they had a sensor attached to them, her nipples hardened and peaked at once.
“Say that too often and I’ll need to take another shower—an ice-cold one—to be able to concentrate at work.” She eased away from him and grabbed her purse from the little table in the hall. “Let’s get going. The sooner I get to the office, the sooner I can be done for the day.”
“I’ll vote for that.”
The law offices of Byrne, Calhoun and Raven were in a building in downtown San Antonio. The partners had deliberately chosen it years ago because of its proximity to the Riverwalk, to hotels where they could house out-of-town clients, and to an abundance of activities and gourmet restaurants. It was also close to the county courthouse, which made it convenient for the clerks to file papers.
“I should be finished pretty close to one o’clock,” she told Trey. “The client isn’t going to be there, so it’s just me and Reed Calhoun, the senior partner who represents him. In fact, it should be pretty quiet, so we might even finish early.”
“Just text me when you’re ready. You know— Damn!”
“What’s the matter?”
“You didn’t even get anything to eat. My bad.”
“I’m good. Mr. Calhoun always has a tray sent in from the bakery near us. My problem will probably be eating too much.” She slid out of the car and reached in back for her purse and messenger bag.
Trey came around to get in behind the wheel, but before he did, he tilted up her chin and brushed another one of those teasing kisses on her lips.
“See you later.”
Then he climbed into the car and pulled away.
Before she headed into the offices, Kenzi texted Deandra. She at least wanted to know the woman was safe and sound. Somewhere.
You doing okay? Sorry to do a fast exit last night.
The answer came back at once.
Safe at home with only a tiny hangover. But you? I want details, girl.
Same goes. Later.
Reed was waiting for her in the conference room when she got there. He preferred working there rather than his office, because the table was bigger and he liked to spread things out. Kenzi grinned when she saw the tray of pastries set out on the credenza next to the coffeemaker.
“Good morning.” Reed looked up when she walked in. “Thanks for coming in on a Saturday.”
“The work never stops just because it’s the weekend,” she told him, repeating something he often said himself.
He smiled. “I think I’ve heard that before. Okay. Get yourself fixed up and let’s go to work.”
* * * *
Trey was sliding his key card into the slot of his hotel room door when the screeching sound of a radar warning came from on his cell phone. He fished it out of his pocket as he walked into the room and looked at the screen. A text from Axel.
You still alive?
Trey grinned. Instead of answering, he knocked on the door to the room across from his. Axel yanked it open.
“You’re alive!”
He nodded. “And kicking.”
“Brock and I were about to get some breakfast, but we didn’t want to leave you alone and hungry if you wanted to join us.”
“I’m fine,” he snapped, then took a deep breath. He was suddenly very protective of his situation with Kenzi—unusual for him, but he didn’t want to piss off his teammates.
“Okay, okay.” Axel held up his hands. “I’ll just ask again. Want to grab breakfast?”
“Yeah. I’m starved. Give me fifteen to shower and shave and I’m ready.”
“Just knock on the door. I’ll text Brock.”
They ended up at a little restaurant down the block from the hotel, one that the desk clerk had recommended when they discovered the one in the hotel had a long line ahead of them. Trey was waiting for one of the others to make some smart comment about where he’d been, and when no one did, he thought they’d decided to mind their own business. But when the waitress had filled their coffee mugs and taken their orders, Brock shattered that hope.
“So.” He leaned forward. “Interesting lady you’ve got there. Sharp. How long have the two of you been together?”
How to answer that? “We’re not exactly together.”
“Just friends?” Brock persisted. “With benefits?”
That was what it had started out as, just like every other hookup since he’d become part of Delta. He had realized this morning, to his discomfort, that that had changed somehow between the last time he and Kenzi had been together and last night. Well, fuck. That wasn’t in his life plan at all. Nor did he think it was in hers. That was one of the things that made being with her so enjoyable.
“We met a while ago. Before you guys joined the team, we spent some down time at Slade’s ranch and he dragged us along to a party with him.”
“Yeah, we heard about that.” Axel grinned. “That must have been quite some party. Slade’s married and two of you are engaged. You next, Storm?”
He shook his head. “Never. This is one time I don’t follow the leader.”
But a strange feeling washed through him. He dismissed it as hunger pangs, but was it? Was Kenzi Bryant the one woman who could change his mind? Not a chance, he told himself. He was married to Delta, at least for the foreseeable future.
Neither of them said a word about Deandra, for which he was thankful. He was sure Kenzi would ask him and he was happy to be able to tell her his team mates hadn’t exchanged dirty remarks like horny teenagers.
“By the way,” Axel said, buttering a slice of toast, “I was watching the news earlier. Our friend Hector Lopez Garcia is in the headlines again.”
“Yeah?” Trey stirred creamer into his coffee, grateful for the change of subject. “Anything dealing with our little visit to his compound in Quintana Roo?”
Axel shook his head. “Not since Dana Roberts’ employers put out the big story about her rescue. My guess is Lopez Garcia is not anxious for anyone to know what a disaster the whole thing was for him. No, this is about a major drug bust just over the border in Texas. And I mean major.”
“Like what?” Brock asked.
“The DEA got a tip that two semis would be hauling cocaine, meth and fentanyl hidden in crates of goods from a factory in Mexico. They pulled the trucks over once they crossed the border and discovered fifty tons of meth, with an estimated street value of four billion.”
Trey whistled. “Holy shit. Are they sure who it belongs to?”
“Oh, yeah.” Axel grinned. “The factory that produced the goods hiding the shit is owned by a corporation that they traced back to him.”
“How did they do that? I thought these guys had very complex setups.”
“That is a complex setup.” Axel shook his head. “The crates are specifically designed to conceal the drugs, often stored in false walls and bottoms. This shipment came from a factory in Tegucigalpa owned by a relative of one of Lopez Garcia’s lieutenants.”
“Uh-huh.” Brock smirked. “On paper, anyway.” He leaned forward. “Axel and I actually did three cartel-related missions, and I’ll tell you, Storm, these cartels are set up like the most complex corporations. They’ve got attorneys and accountants who keep things humming and make sure nobody smells their real purpose for existing.”
“They seem to be getting more arrogant and confident lately,” Axel added.
“Which is probably why they’re getting harder and harder to catch,” Trey commented.
“Our former team leader told us the DEA has let a lot of stuff slide so they can use the cartel members as informants.”
Brock snorted. “Like those guys will feed them real information. They’re all laughing up their butts at us. Take my word for it. I sense the government thinks because it has El Chapo in custody and are putting him on trial, Sinaloa will fracture without his leadership. Just look it up on the web. It’s so big, and has so many ‘lieutenants,’ it just keeps on rockin’ and rollin’.”
“It’s frightening, is what it is,” Axel added. “You think about the power these guys have and the brutality of their organizations. I can promise you, someone’s head will roll, literally, for this bust.”
“They used to smuggle cash over the border, too,” Trey added, “but they got caught so many times that they’re changing their method. Now they clean the money through a complicated network and it shows up as legitimate income.”
“Ha!” Brock took a swallow of coffee. “Legitimate? That’s a fucking joke.”
“I read somewhere that the cartel leaders are setting up dummy corporations,” Axel went on. “And the money ends up in so-called legit enterprises. At least on paper.”
“Takes a lot of smarts to put together situations like that,” Trey pointed out, “and not leave any kind of trails. Or at least disguise them very well.”
“Funny,” Axel said, breaking his slice of toast in half. “You think of these guys as illiterate thugs, but then you look at the scope of the operations they run and the millions and billions of dollars that pass through their fingers undetected and for the most part untouchable, even if you know where it is. You either have to be incredibly smart to set up an organization or be savvy enough to hire people who are. Or maybe both.”
“The assholes guarding Kenzi’s sister weren’t all that bright,” Slade told them, “but no one ever accused Hector Lopez Garcia of not having a brain. Scuttle butt says he’s rapidly gaining on the Sinaloa organization, but he’s doing it so far under the radar we can’t verify it.”
“Yeah?” Brock hiked an eyebrow. “Why the low key? I mean, he’d have to go a long way to do that. Sinaloa, the big kid on the block, is in every country of the world and has enough people involved in it to fill their own country. You think Lopez Garcia is just trying to stay off their radar until he makes some kind of big push?”
“Maybe.” Trey shrugged. “If you remember the briefing for the hostage rescue, the brass has managed to get that information. Very quietly, Hector Lopez Garcia has expanded far beyond the borders of Mexico. He’s in Central and South America, the Caribbean and now is looking to set up distribution in Europe. The DEA has someone feeding them information.” He snorted. “I hope the guy’s life insurance is paid up.”
“I know he’s active in South America,” Axel told them. “But I only learned that because Brock and I were part of a unit that worked with the Colombian military to neutralize a threat.”
Trey frowned. “It’s my understanding that the military, like the government, is pretty damn crooked.”
“Not as much as they used to be. When the Medellin cartel was flourishing, and bringing more than four hundred million dollars a day, they owned everything and everyone. When Pablo Escobar was killed, for a while the Cali cartel swept in and took over, but then they fractured and spawned a number of smaller groups. Colombia had elections, new people were in power and they’ve been working to eradicate the cartels as much as possible.”
“But nothing happens in a vacuum,” Brock pointed out. “Miguel Gallardo, Mexico’s first major drug lord, had an arrangement with Pablo Escobar. When the Medellin cartel began to disintegrate, Gallardo was ready. After him came Aviles, the originator of the Sinaloa cartel, then it was off to the races.”
“It’s insidious,” Trey agreed. “There’s not a country in the world where one cartel or another doesn’t have a foothold. I need to talk to Kenzi about her sister. If Dana persists in doing her series on the cartels and how they control governments, she’ll continue to put herself in danger. The next time we might be retrieving her body.”
“Amen to that,” Axel said. “And speaking of Kenzi—”
Trey held up a hand. “Which we weren’t and aren’t going to. Off limits, guys.”
The two men exchanged glances, then Axel shrugged.
“Okay. I get it. It’s your business.”
“Unless”—Trey grinned—“you want to talk about her friend last night. I hope you didn’t do anything to make Kenzi cut off my balls.”
Brock chuckled. “We figured you’d be the one cutting off ours if we made a misstep.” He exchanged a glance with Axel. “We behaved ourselves. She’s bright and fun and she seemed to have a great time. I have no idea if she’s into either of us, but we didn’t want to fuck things up for you and Kenzi.”
“Thanks. Appreciate it. I’ll let you know if Kenzi says anything.”
“Where is she, anyway?” Axel asked.
“She had to work this morning. Said she’d be done around one. I’ve got her car so I’ll pick her up. I thought I’d take her to lunch on the Riverwalk. Maybe one of those outdoor places, since it’s so nice today. What are you guys up to?”
“We thought we’d do the tourist thing and get in some sightseeing. We were waiting to see if you were hooking up with your lady for the day or wanted
to come with.”
“Normally I’d be happy to look at your ugly mugs for the day, but not this time.” He finished his last swallow of coffee. “Okay. Let’s get our checks and get out of here.”
Chapter Five
Kenzi was more than glad when Reed Calhoun leaned back in his chair and heaved a sigh.
“I don’t know about you, but this stuff is beginning to make my eyes cross. I say we hang it up for the day and pick it up again on Monday.”
“I was afraid I was the only one whose brain was getting scrambled.” She rubbed her forehead. “We’ve done complicated before, but this one really pushed the envelope. Am I sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong if I ask why this complex structure?”
Reed shook his head. “Not at all. It took a while for me to figure it out myself.” He raked his fingers through his close-cropped greying hair. “I should give you a little background on Alex Reyes first.”
“I know he’s been a client of the law firm for a long time.”
“He has. He owns a ranch just outside San Antonio in the Hill Country that’s been in the family for a long time. Four generations ago his ancestors came up here from Mexico after a fight between two brothers over who had the inherited rights to the existing homestead. Land was a lot cheaper then, so they bought more than five hundred acres.”
“Wow.” Kenzi was impressed. “That was a good chunk of land. They must have had some bucks to buy it.”
Reed smiled. “Yes, they did. They run Charolais cattle on it. I forget how large the herd is, but suffice it to say big hardly describes it. Additionally, there is a large chunk of land with significant mineral deposits. That’s where we came in.”
“How so?” Kenzi leaned back in her chair. She was enjoying the story, details she’d never heard before.
