by Desiree Holt
“You should be careful about exposing your tattoo,” he told Ashford. “We saw the same one on every single man we killed in Lopez Garcia’s finca in Quintana Roo. Trey, get me something to tie this guy’s wrists.”
“Madre di Dios! Chinga tu madres!” Ashford spat on the floor. “Fuck you, asshole.”
“What the hell is going on here?”
Trey looked up and saw the pilot standing in the open doorway of the cabin, staring down at the tableau. He and Slade exchanged glances, then he jogged quickly up the fold-out stairway to where the pilot stood.
“You’ve got one chance to tell me if you’re with these guys,” he told the man, pressing the gun to his temple.
“No. Please, No.” He held up his hands. “I was just hired with the plane. That’s all, I swear it.”
“Take off your shirt,” Trey ordered.
“What?” The man’s eyebrows rose. “Take off my shirt?”
“Do you understand English? Do I need to say it in Spanish? Take it off.”
The man started to protest again, then thought better of it and stripped off the garment. Trey had him turn completely around before he nodded to Slade.
“No tattoos.”
“Lucky for him,” Slade grunted. “Okay, tell me how these pigs came to be riding on your plane with this woman?”
The pilot tried to glower at him, but there was a trace of fear in his eyes that diluted the expression.
“Can I put my shirt on first?”
Slade nodded. “Let’s have it. Do you know these men?”
“No.” He shook his head. “I fly for Gillette Security. Agents on assignment, clients who need to move under the radar. Whatever they want. This is their plane.”
“How long have you worked for them?” Slade demanded. “And what’s your name?”
Kenzi and Dana had crouched behind Slade’s pickup when the shooting started. Now, from the corner of his eye, he saw them move out from behind the vehicles and head slowly toward him, eyes averted from the body. They were smart enough to keep a good distance away from the wounded man, too.
“Marc Phillips.” He finished tucking in his shirt. “I’ve worked for them for seven years. And by the way, this is a first for me. I’m used to the security agents being armed, but a shootout like this is a new one on me.”
He jogged down the stairs to where Trey and Slade were now standing. The women stood off to the side, well away from the groaning and cursing man on the floor. But just in case, Trey planted himself between them and him.
“Have you flown these men previously?”
Marc shook his head. “Never saw them before, but Gillette has a number of agents. They showed up at the right time, with the right client and the right credentials.”
“I need to make some phone calls,” Slade told him. “I’m calling Joe Trainor at the sheriff’s office. I think I’ve still got some chits to cash in from the bomb scare at the rodeo. Then I better call Mike Elliott and tell him to get hold of Gillette. They’re missing two agents.”
“And somebody better reach out to the guy who owns this place,” Trey added. “He’s in for quite a shock.”
“Joe will help us with that. “
Slade pulled out his phone and walked a distance away as he dialed.
“If anyone’s interested, I can make coffee in the plane’s galley,” Marc told them. “I’m sure the ladies could use a cup.”
Trey glanced over at Kenzi, who nodded.
“That would be great.”
Chapter Eleven
Trey wondered if Joe Trainor and his men had used lights and sirens to get there. He remembered where the sheriff’s office was, and he knew how far out of the city they were, yet the men had gotten there in record time. With Joe were Detective Adam Gorsh and senior deputies Frank Novak and Ward Benton, men from the team they’d worked with on the bomb scare. They all shook hands with Trey and Slade.
Trey let Slade take the lead. He was, after all, the man in charge of their Delta Team and the one who had the relationship with the senior detective, just as Joe was in charge of the group from the sheriff’s office. Trey was more than glad to let him do it. His entire focus was on doing what had to be done as quickly as possible, then getting Kenzi and Dana out of here and away from danger.
“Thanks for getting here so fast.” Slade looked at Trainor and indicated the other men. “I see you brought the team with you.”
“You didn’t give me too many details to work with and I didn’t want to be unprepared.”
“Of course. Although maybe a little overkill, don’t you think?”
A tiny grin teased the corner of Joe’s mouth. “But you make things so interesting for us they didn’t want to miss the excitement. Oh, and the coroner’s on his way.”
“Good.”
“I need a doctor,” the man on the floor spat. “I am shot.”
“You’re fucking lucky to still be alive,” Slade pointed out, “so shut the fuck up. At least you’re better off than your friend.”
“You are all dead,” he growled. “El jefe will make sure it is a slow, painful death.”
“Only if he catches us first,” Trey growled. “And that ain’t happening.”
“Okay,” Trainor said. “So, what have we got going on here? You gave me the nickel version on the phone. How about filling in the details for me?”
While Ward Benton checked over the dead man, emptying his pockets, Frank Novak did the same with the fake Ashford, ignoring the man’s groan and curses. Then he snapped pictures of both men.
“I’ll send photos of these guys to the office,” Ward Benton called. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and they’ll be in the files. I bet they’ve had their picture taken before at some time or other.”
Joe nodded. “Let’s hope.”
“Want me to send it to the district DEA, too? Just in case, since there’s a cartel story at the heart of this?”
“Yes. I think we can all agree that’s what this is related to. Add a message to get it to Rod Bustamante. He’s the agent I work with the most.” Joe glanced at the women, then back at Slade. “I take it this was who you referred to in the phone call?”
Slade nodded and motioned the two women over to them. “Meet Kenzi and Dana Bryant. Dana’s the reporter we rescued from the cartel in Mexico. Kenzi’s her sister. We got involved today because she—”
“Was worried about her sister and wanted to meet the plane. She’s with me.” Trey stepped up beside Kenzi and put his arm around her, pulling her close to his body. He didn’t know which was more surprising, his action or his words. Or who was more shocked by them, himself or Kenzi. “It was my idea to come here today.”
Joe glanced at Kenzi then turned his attention to Dana. “So, you’re the one getting ready to stir the cartel pot, right?”
“It’s already stirred,” she told him. “I’m just getting it to boil over.”
Adam Gorsh chuckled. “That you are. Too bad it’s so dangerous for you, because someone needs to do it. Those assholes are the blight of the earth.”
“I imagine you know that all too well,” Dana agreed.
Trainor looked around then back first at Trey then at Slade. “So you, what, decided to have a little shootout here?”
“Only when we discovered these guys were phony,” Slade answered. “It happened it seconds. They pulled their guns first. We were—” He was interrupted by the ringing of his cell, and he held up a finger. “Hold on. This is important. I asked my friend Mike Elliott to call his contact at Gillette Security, see if they could tell him how or when the bodyguard switch was made, if possible.”
As Slade stepped aside to take the call, two vehicles pulled up to the hangar, a van with the sheriff’s logo on the side and an ambulance.
“Ah, good. The coroner’s here.” Joe inclined his head toward the van. “And I called paramedics for the piece of trash you shot. It pains me to give him any kind of medical attention, but the bleeding hearts are all over us if we do
n’t. Let’s deal with this first.”
Joe introduced Slade and Trey to the new arrivals, then the coroner went to deal with the body while the paramedics attended to the man with the bullet in his arm. After having Frank Novak search the man again thoroughly for any hidden weapons, he had the deputy stand guard while the paramedics treated him. When they pronounced him ready for transport to the hospital, Novak handcuffed him to the stretcher and climbed into the ambulance with him.
“I’m ordering guards for the hospital,” Joe said, pulling out his cell. “You need to hang out until they get there. We’ll pick you up on the way in.”
By that time the coroner was also ready to leave, the body securely tucked into the van.
“When can you get to it?” Joe asked.
The coroner shrugged. “You know how backed up we are, but I’m told it’s a priority. No sweat. I’ll do it right away.”
“No, that’s okay. He’s dead, we know who shot him and we’re pretty sure we know where he came from. Just slot it in as soon as you can.”
The coroner nodded, then he and his assistant climbed into the van and pulled out of the hangar.
Joe turned to Trey. “Slade says you’re friends with the woman involved here. Can you fill me in a little more? I want to call the guy who owns this place and give him a heads up.” He shook his head. “He definitely won’t be happy, I can tell you.”
“Can’t say I blame him. Sure. I’ll tell you as much as I know, although it’s really about the sister of the woman I’m, uh, dating.”
Dating. He wanted to laugh. Was that what they called it when the focus was just no-strings fun and sex?
But before he could say anything, they were interrupted again, this time by the pilot hollering down to them that the coffee was ready. Telling him she needed to be busy, Kenzi volunteered to help him bring everything down from the plane. By the time Wade Benton had sent the photos of the two men to his office, coffee had been handed around and they were seated around a table.
“All right, Miss Roberts.” Joe looked directly at Dana, so she’d know which Miss Bryant he was speaking to.
She wet her lips and took a breath, and Trey was damn sure she was trying to figure out how to color the story to keep her secrets. Didn’t the little scene that just played out have any effect on her?
“The truth,” Joe snapped. “You won’t be doing yourself any favors if you try to lie to us. Lieutenant Donovan has already given us the outline of the situation.”
Trey thought the woman looked like she wanted to strangle Slade. But she just nodded.
“Fine. What do you want to know?”
“Take me through your routine since your boss hired bodyguards for you. When and how they showed up, what they do when you’re working, going places, at night. How this all works.”
When she was finished, it was evident that Gillette had not assigned a regular team to her but rotated the guards, something they’d probably regret for a long time. That had made it easy for two strangers to pick her up for the trip without raising any red flags. And she’d been so busy in her brain trying to figure out how to ditch them before her meeting, and so used to their presence, that she hadn’t noticed any of the small details.
Trey studied Kenzi while her sister answered questions, checking her out to make sure she was okay. The tension gripping her body was visible in the way she stood and the tight line of her jaw, but she was holding it together. He knew she was as worried about Dana as he was. Maybe this episode would convince Dana that following this story was way too dangerous for her, but he didn’t hold out much hope. He figured she was like Kenzi in that respect, determined to follow through. Besides, she could be poised on the edge of international recognition if this story turned out to be as big as she thought. Hoped. There’d be no stopping her or getting in her way.
At that moment Slade’s cell rang. He walked away from the group as he answered it, but then Kenzi saw him stop dead, turn and look at the group and hang up his call.
“More trouble.” He looked at Dana, his face set in harsh lines. “Was there any reason why Gillette rotated your bodyguard teams?”
She shrugged. “Not that I can think of. The agency had explained in the beginning that sometimes they had to rotate agents. It didn’t seem like there was anything wrong.”
“Gillette Security said they just now found the bodies of their two agents in a car, parked behind Dana’s apartment building,” he reported. “The men had checked in at six this morning and were supposed to call again when they got to San Antonio. It’s past time for them to check in, so when neither of them answered their phones, Gillette sent two agents to check out the situation. They drove to Dana’s building and found them. They’d been shot and their throats slashed. Identification missing.”
“Jesus!” Trey let out a soft whistle. He glanced at Kenzi and saw fear and tension grip her body.
“Uh-huh. They’re all over it there, with the New York police.”
“Dana, why wouldn’t they check with you?”
“Two so-called bodyguards told me to turn it off until we landed. I should have told them to forget it.” She bit her lower lip. “I’m so sorry those men were killed trying to protect me.”
He glanced at Dana. “When we’re done here, they suggest you call your editor. Gillette assured him you’re still alive, but he’s damned insistent he wants to hear your voice. He’s going apeshit because he can’t get hold of you.”
Dana smacked her forehead. “Of course. Especially if he knows about the dead bodyguards. Let me get my purse. I dropped it by the truck.”
“In a minute.” Slade put a restraining hand on her arm. “They can wait a few while we figure this out.”
Trey could tell the woman wasn’t happy, but at least she just nodded and didn’t try to give them a hard time. He hoped that seeing how close the cartel could get to her again would make her think twice about this whole series she was doing.
“The guy at Gillette said he’ll call the owner of the property the airfield’s located on, a rancher named Craig Medina. He might have to track him down if he’s not home. Guy’s not going to be too happy.”
Trey barked a laugh. “No shit. I’m sure he didn’t bargain for anything like this.”
“The cartel is sending a message.” Joe rubbed his jaw. “From what you said, Slade, they’ve been watching her, trying to find the right opportunity to get to her again.”
“We’re damn lucky they didn’t just kill her and be done with it.” Slade’s voice was like ice.
Trey couldn’t help noticing Dana’s face pale at the words, but she also didn’t look like she had any intention of backing down.
Joe looked around the table at everyone. “You know this will bring the DEA back into it. If it has to do with the cartel, it’s their bailiwick. Once the people at Gillette relay the info to the police there, they’ll be on the phone to the local DEA office. Frank sent the pictures of these jackasses to the district DEA office as well as ours. We’ll see who comes back with what.”
“I know there’s a big problem with drugs here,” Slade added. “It’s hard not to notice when you live here.”
Joe snorted. “No shit. You have no idea.” He looked over at Dana. “Lieutenant Donovan tells me you’re supposed to meet with someone from the Lopez Garcia cartel on this trip who’s going to spill the beans about whatever. That right?”
For a moment she sat there, not moving a muscle, her face set rigidly, looking at Joe then at her sister.
“Oh, for god’s sake, Dana,” Kenzi snapped. “Tell them. They want to break up this thing as much as you do.”
“But every time the police get involved,” she protested, “you put up every roadblock you can to keep me from getting my story.”
“The police are trying to keep you from getting killed, Dana.” Trey had to bite down hard to keep from smacking the woman, Kenzi’s sister or not. “Didn’t you learn anything when they kidnapped you?”
She
sat up straighter in her chair and lifted her chin. “That’s what the bodyguards were for. Besides, no one knows about the meeting.”
“Clearly you’re mistaken, or today’s disaster would not have happened. Someone has found out about this.”
“But I have to meet with this person,” she protested. “It’s my big break on this story.” Then she said exactly what Trey had been thinking. “I’ll be a top reporter on the international press stage if this turns out the way I think it will. I’m not giving that up for anything.”
“Miss Roberts.” Joe looked as if he’d like to strangle her himself. “That won’t do you much good if you’re dead. It’s obvious to everyone here the cartel can get to you anywhere, and that they know about your meeting. They learned your routine, killed your bodyguards and I’m sure were waiting until tonight to take out both you and your source at the same time.”
“So what am I supposed to do? If I don’t show, this person will never set up another meeting.”
“Okay.” Joe leaned forward, pinning Dana with his gaze. “I think you need to tell me who this secret snitch is. This could turn out to be a wild goose chase and people have been killed for nothing. Or it could be a trick by the cartel to lure you away from your bodyguards so they could kill you. I don’t think they’d be interested in hostage-taking this time.”
Dana sat there, staring at Trainor, hands clasped tightly in front of her on the table. Trey thought she looked as though she wanted to punch someone. He was pretty damn sure she wasn’t used to having her decisions questioned like this. He’d have figured, with what had just happened, she’d use some common sense and re-examine the situation, but apparently she had a recklessness that Kenzi wasn’t even aware of.
“Miss Roberts.” Joe’s voice was soft but there was a definite undertone of anger. “Are you listening to what I’m saying? Two bodyguards are dead, and we just had another body and a wounded man carted out of here. We’re done playing games here. Tell me who the hell you are meeting with tonight and where.” He shook his head. “You know, I can arrest you on any number of charges and that would put an end to it.”
