Asking For Trouble (21 page)

The drive to Dallas was uneventful, and when
Beau pulled up in the driveway, he saw a bright red Ferrari
Testarossa parked in the driveway and instant car lust clutched his
heart. FBI agents must be making a helluva lot more than they used
to, he thought, for one of them to be driving that beauty.

Beau slid out of his truck and pocketed his
keys, then went over to the beautiful car and walked around it with
his palm itching to trace over the slick finish. Once he'd made a
circle, and was at the back again, he noticed it had a vanity plate
that said 'Los Testa", which meant either
the test
or
they test me
in Spanish, but he was sure it was just a play
off the model name of the Italian sports car.

The front door opened and a grinning Carlos
Ramos, in jeans and a white tank top, walked out of the front door
and strode over to him. "I was wondering if you'd show up," he said
then glanced at the Ferarri and back at him.

"You like her?" Carlos asked proudly, with a
nod toward the car.

Beau snorted then shook his head and said,
"Who the hell wouldn't?"

"Mama's not too fond of it, she thinks I'm
gonna kill myself in it," Carlos chuckled, then dug in his pocket
and pulled out a set of keys.

"This car is yours?" Beau asked
incredulously.

"Whose else would it be? Surely not those
men in black inside...if it ain't black, they don't want it...I bet
their souls are even black," Carlos told him with a snort.

Beau whistled then lifted a brow and asked,
"What are you doing here anyway? I'm surprised they told you where
Jazzie was...hell, they barely wanted to tell me. I had to call
Glen to find out."

"The guys inside didn't act like they wanted
me here either, but Jazzie wasn't sure you were coming to get her,
so she called me to bring her violin and wait to make sure you made
it. This class really means a lot to her...if you hadn't come she'd
have been disappointed."

"I always intended to take her, I told her
that," Beau told him in frustration, because his statement made
Beau feel like she had expected him to let her down.

"She hadn't heard from you, so she wasn't
sure..." Carlos said and pinned him with his dark eyes.

Beau sighed then told him, "That's the way
protective custody is supposed to work, Carlos. Nobody is supposed
to know where she is, or be able to contact her. I'm surprised that
the agents even let her use the phone."

"Let her?" Carlos hooted.

"Oh, yeah, how could I forget who we're
dealing with here," Beau replied then shoved a hand through his
hair. "This is the same woman who tortured me at the lake house for
a week for telling her I was doing my job by protecting her."

"Now, you're getting the picture..." Carlos
agreed.

"Okay, well, I've got it now, so you can
go...I'll get the little hellion there in one piece and back
here."

Carlos took a step toward him and his eyes
glittered angrily. "
Hey
--watch how you talk about my
sister!"

Beau held up his hands and said, "Whoa,
Rambo, take a chill, I was just kidding...she
knows
I think
she's a hellion."

"You better not hurt her asshole, or I
will
hurt you," Carlos threatened.

Beau shook his head and said somberly, "If
anyone's gonna get hurt, it will definitely be me, don't
worry."

"Don't forget she has five brothers,
amigo...and we love our little sister...not to mention my dad,
who's not happy about this situation at all."

"You don't forget that I didn't create this
situation,
amigo
, your brother Frankie did that, but I'm
trying to help fix it."

"Where are they holding Frankie at anyway?"
Carlos took a step back then asked. "I would have thought they'd be
holding him here too."

"I have no idea..." Beau lied, then added,
"It's better that you not know anyway, for Frankie's sake. Just
like it was better if you not know where Jazzie was either. You're
as much at risk as she is."

Carlos snorted then flexed a bicep and told
him, "Have you taken a good look at me? I'm not exactly the weak
one in my family."

"Muscles don't stop bullets, Carlos...and
being rocked up isn't going to stop two or three guys from
blindsiding you."

"Yeah, I figured that out from the incident
at the lake, so I bought a gun and have been taking shooting
lessons. Mama would have a fit if she knew, but being that
defenseless in the situation really pissed me off."

Being as big as he was and as buff, Beau
imagined being defenseless in any situation would piss Carlos off.
"That's good man, maybe next time you won't almost shoot me," Beau
told him with a chuckle.

Carlos's face got red and he huffed out a
breath, "Hopefully, there won't
be
a next time. That was
more than enough excitement to last me for a while. Look, I've
gotta get out of here, I have a personal training appointment soon.
I was gonna cancel, but now that you decided to show up..."

"I was always going to show up!" Beau
shouted.

Carlos chuckled then walked around him and
got inside the beautiful red car then shut the door. He rolled down
the window, then jammed his keys in the ignition and twisted. The
purr of the engine vibrated in Beau's chest and he smiled. "My god,
that's almost as good as sex, huh?"

With a grin, Carlos told him, "If it is,
you're not doing it right." He put the car in reverse and gave a
little skeert to the tires as he backed out of the driveway.

Beau watched the sleek car as it disappeared
around a curve down the street, before he walked up to the front
door and knocked. Immediately, the door was opened by an agent with
his hand on the pistol in the shoulder holster. "Yeah?"

"Beau Bowman...I'm here to pick up Jazzie
for her class," he told the man and watched as his jaw worked a
couple of times. Nope, he was definitely not happy about people
being here, or about Jazzie's appointment evidently. Beau knew it
was going to make the man's job more difficult, but come hell or
high water, he was getting her to that class.

"You have some ID?" the grim-faced agent
asked gruffly.

Beau pulled out his badge and credentials
and showed it to the guy, then the man stepped back and opened the
door a little wider, so Beau could go inside. The little
non-descript suburban house was sparsely furnished with what looked
to be rental furniture, and he walked into the living room and
found Jazzie sitting on the sofa with her violin across her lap.
Her foot was tapping on the beige carpeted floor, and agitation
poured off of her in waves.

When she saw him her eyes flashed pleasure
momentarily, then the agitation was back as she shoved off the
couch and picked up her purse. "It's about damned time, we're gonna
be late!" she said with irritation.

Beau chuckled and told her, "Well, aren't
you just a ray of sunshine..."

Jazzie harrumphed then stomped across the
floor in her high heeled boots to the door. "Whoa, wait a minute,
sugar! I need to go out first, and the agents do too," he said
looking at the two less-than-happy men slipping on their suit
jackets and sunshades.

"You think that's gonna stop her?" one of
the men said sarcastically.

Beau wanted to laugh, but instead he went
over and grabbed Jazzie's arm and pulled her away from the door.
"You just hold tight, you're going to your class, and you're gonna
do that in once piece, if I have to hog-tie you to make sure of
it."

She snorted then said, "You and what army,
asshole?"

Beau's grip on her arm tightened a little
and he said, "Here I am, I came all the way over here to take you
to your class, and I've been missing you all week...and this is the
kind of greeting I get?"

Jazzie took a deep breath then exhaled, and
her shoulders relaxed a little. "I'm sorry, Beau...I've missed you
too...thanks for doing this," she said, then added, "I'm just a
little frustrated because I can't even go to the bathroom without
one of them up my--.

Beau clamped a hand over her mouth and
whispered near her ear, "They might not look like it, but they have
feelings too...they're just doing their job, baby."

She jerked her mouth from his hand, then
ground out, "Grrrr...if I hear that phrase again, I'm gonna shoot
somebody," Jazzie said.

The agents tossed him a look and shook their
heads, as they walked out the front door ahead of Beau and Jazzie.
They stood on the porch and scanned the yard and street, and the
adjacent houses then stood on either side of the door and waved
them through. Beau walked to the edge of the porch with Jazzie
behind him and did the same, then grabbed her hand and quickly
walked her to his truck. The agents got into a non-descript black
sedan with tinted windows and followed them.

Jazzie pulled out a piece of paper from her
purse, and handed it to him. "Directions to the school," she said
shortly, then folded her arms under her breasts. Beau's eyes
lingered on her for a second, drinking her in. He was so damned
glad to see her, his heart did a little dance in his chest. She
glanced over, then glared at him, and Beau dragged his eyes to the
ignition and cranked the truck.

It took twenty minutes or so for him to get
them to the school, and the parking lot was deserted, as he
expected it would be on a Saturday. He had no trouble parking
around back by the gym entrance, and was glad. That would help him
keep her safe while she walked from the truck to the gym. The FBI
agents pulled their sedan into the spot next to him. An older box
truck, he supposed was white at one time, but now had a thick layer
of dust all over it, pulled up in the lot and parked near the gym
too. On the side of the truck was faded rusty lettering that said
Gonzales Music Store.

Jazzie squealed, then grabbed the door
handle to open the door, and Beau put his hand on her shoulder, and
said impatiently, "Wait, Jazzie." She had no concern for her own
safety, he thought, she was about to head out into the open in
broad daylight, where anyone could snatch her or shoot her. "Is
that a delivery for you?" he asked.

"Yeah, I rented some violins for a month for
the kids," she said and looked over at him.

"You wait here, and I'll go get the guy.
Where do you want the violins?" Beau asked her and reached under
his seat to pull out his shoulder holster. He strapped it on over
his t-shirt, then checked his weapon.

"The music teacher should be right inside,
she'll tell him where to put them, but I need to give the guy my
credit card and sign for them," she told him.

With a nod, Beau got out of the truck and
walked over to the box truck and tapped on the window. The Latino
guy inside jerked in surprise, then rolled down his window a few
inches. "Yeah?"

"Jazzie Ramos rented violins from you?" Beau
asked him and the guy nodded. "She's in my truck over there and
would like to sign the paper work and pay for them, then you can
bring them inside to the music teacher."

He looked at Beau suspiciously, then looked
over at the truck and evidently saw Jazzie sitting there and his
face lit up with a big smile. He rolled the window back up, then
leaned across the seat for something, before he opened the door and
dropped to the ground. Without waiting for Beau, the man strode
across the parking lot to the truck and opened the door.

"Jasmine!" the guy said and Jazzie threw her
arms around the thirty-something guys neck and squeezed.

"Eddie, es tan bueno verle!" she replied in
Spanish and Beau figured out the man's name was Eddie and she was
glad to see him.

When they launched into rapid fire Spanish
punctuated with sparkling eyes and quick hand movements, Beau was
at a loss, because his Spanish was rudimentary at best, limited
mostly to Police terms and commands.

The longer they sat there and talked like
old friends, in no hurry to speed things along, the more impatient
Beau became. The guy was touchy-feely with her, Beau noticed and
ground his teeth. When he touched her face, her shoulder, her
damned knee, it became more and more obvious to Beau that this guy
was more than a passing acquaintance to her, and he didn't like
it...at all. The guy leaned in and gave her a kiss right on her
lips, and when he pulled back Jazzie smiled up at him and patted
his shoulder. Beau felt all the blood in his body rush from his
toes up to his head and boil, and he stalked over there.

"If you two are through with the reunion, we
need to get you inside..." Beau said and shouldered the guy aside
to help her down from the truck, then kept his hand around her
shoulders, giving the man a warning with his eyes.

Eddie frowned then backed up and said in
English, "I'll get the instruments inside, Jazz...we can sign the
paperwork in there," before he turned and walked back toward the
box truck.

"Gracias, Eddie," she said then stepped out
of Beau's hold to reach inside the truck for her purse and violin.
When she stood back up, she put a finger in his chest and told him,
"Get that look off your face, Beau...Eddie is a family friend, my
brother Joe's best friend, and yeah I dated him a few times, but
we're just friends, got it?"