Fearless (11 page)

“Book him, lock him up and hope the judge will set bail at a million dollars.”

Glory chuckled. “Oh, I think Mary Smith will do that if you ask her to. She’s a renegade. She hates drug dealers.”

“You know a judge?” Rodrigo asked her with narrow, suspicious eyes.

Her heart skipped. “I know of her,” she said. “One of my cousins got in trouble with the law and she heard his case,” she lied calmly.

“I see.”

“You’ll have to testify,” Cash told Glory. “You’re the only eyewitness I’ve got.”

Story of my life, she thought. “I didn’t see him, though,” she replied sadly. “I only heard him.”

“Try to get a conviction on that evidence,” Rodrigo murmured absently as he examined the bullet holes. “A good defense attorney will swear that Marco came to her assistance and was falsely accused.”

“But there’s the gun,” Glory began.

Cash ground his teeth together.

“What?” she asked.

“We didn’t find a gun.”

“There goes your case,” Rodrigo replied dryly.

“There were two of them,” Glory said. “The other one, the one who got away, probably took the gun with him when he heard the sirens. Marco was busy telling me that he’d get me next time. So you got him.”

“I’ll keep him as long as I can,” Cash promised. “But it won’t be the only attempt.”

“She’ll be safe here.” Rodrigo repeated. He looked from Glory to Cash and back again. “I don’t suppose either of you would like to tell me why my cook’s assistant is attracting hired killers?”

Cash and Glory exchanged glances.

“So we play musical chairs and twenty questions, while Marco’s boss plans a foolproof way to take her out, is that it?” Rodrigo asked.

“We think this was a dry run,” Cash said. “To see about response time, and Glory’s reaction to an intruder.”

“He’ll be wiser next time and hit in the middle of the night when she’s asleep,” Rodrigo said calmly.

“If someone would loan me a gun…” she began.

“No!” Cash said at once.

“One miserable taillight,” she began hotly.

“
And
a windshield,” he returned. “No gun.”

Rodrigo was aware that they were talking about something they wouldn’t share with him. More secrets. “We’ll work out something here,” Rodrigo assured Cash. His eyes narrowed. “I’d like a word with you before you leave.”

Cash felt like an entrée. He knew he wasn’t going to like what the man had to say. “I’ll wait outside.” He turned to Glory. “You sure, about the ambulance?”

She was still struggling to breathe properly. “Yes. Thanks.”

Rodrigo smoothed her hair and stood up. “I won’t be a minute,” he told her. “Lie down. You’ve already had more excitement than you need.”

She nodded. She moved slowly across her room, ignoring the bullet holes, and all but collapsed on the clean cover of the bed.

O
N THE WIDE FRONT PORCH
, Cash and Rodrigo stood facing each other like prizefighters searching for an opening.

“You’d better tell me what’s going on,” Rodrigo said quietly, wary of eavesdroppers.

“The same way you’ve kept me informed?” Cash returned coldly.

Rodrigo’s black eyes narrowed. This man was intelligent, and he wasn’t the sort to accept lies. “I suppose you’ve realized who I am, and why I’m here.”

“Yes.”

“That’s all you’re allowed to know,” he replied. “I’m sorry. This isn’t my operation. I have to do what I’m told.”

“Can you at least tell me if what you’re doing has any connection with Fuentes?”

Rodrigo nodded. “We have a mole,” he said. “He’s feeding us information. I had to go undercover to work out the distribution network, and it’s formidable. I still have one cousin in Fuentes’s employ, although Manuel Lopez had one of my cousins killed for infiltrating some years ago.” He stuck his hands in his pockets. “There’s a shipment of cocaine coming from Peru in about two weeks. We know how it’s coming into the country, and what the destination is.”

“There’s an empty warehouse in Comanche Wells,” Cash said easily, “and it’s not where many people could notice activity at it.”

Rodrigo nodded. “We met there last night.” His eyes grew cold. “Someone in an unmarked squad car almost got me killed by refusing to back off.”

Cash grimaced. “It’s one of my new patrolmen, I’m sorry to say. He’s back from overseas duty, an officer in a front combat unit and he’s forgotten how to take orders. Actually he was special forces, working behind the lines.”

Rodrigo nodded. “We’ve had a few of those sign on with us. They’re valuable in the right position. But they’re a liability when they don’t follow orders.”

“I told him so,” Cash replied. “He won’t do it again.”

“We’re still dancing around the attempted murder here,” Rodrigo said.

“I noticed.”

“What does she have, or know, that’s important enough for someone to send a killer after her?”

Cash weighed the facts and decided that he had to level with the man somehow without giving Glory away. “She has information that could tie Fuentes to a murder. A conviction could have serious consequences on the network. Fuentes doesn’t want her talking to a jury.”

Rodrigo whistled. “Talk about coincidences,” he mused. “And she winds up here, in the middle of a drug sting.”

“Almost assassinated, as well,” Cash replied.

“Fuentes wouldn’t send Marco to do a job like that. Marco hasn’t got what it takes for wet work. No, he was sent here so that he could be used in a dry run. Next time, Fuentes will send a professional assassin and we’ll bury Glory.”

“That’s what I told Glory.”

Rodrigo eyed him. “And the case comes up soon, I gather?”

“Yes,” Cash said. “Certain people talked to the Pendletons and got Glory hired as a kitchen worker. The prosecutor in the case thought she’d be in less danger in a small town, where we could all keep an eye on her while he builds enough evidence to convince a jury that Fuentes is killing informants who rat out his drug deals.”

“Marquez and you, I assume, being the people who plan to watch her?”

“I had a guy working for you who was supposed to keep me in the loop. He’s gone.”

“I’m still working here,” Rodrigo replied. “Nothing will happen to Glory.”

“You can’t watch her around the clock,” Cash said. “Let me help.”

The other man grimaced. He felt suddenly vulnerable. He’d enjoyed Glory as a pastime, but the thought of losing her to a bullet had hit him in the gut. He couldn’t bear the thought that she might be killed. Strange how much it hurt him to think of her lying dead.

“Your prosecutor should have sent a bodyguard with her,” Rodrigo commented.

Cash chuckled. “That’s a hoot. Whose budget would pay for it?”

“Not ours,” Rodrigo had to admit. “I’m not charging them for overtime.”

“You’d never get it, if your budget is like ours.”

“It is. Nobody has money to spare these days.” He didn’t mention that he was wealthy enough to have done his job without pay. The last three years he’d worked for the DEA had been for no other reason than to be Sarina’s partner.

“Okay,” Cash said. “I’ll have someone available to tail her if she leaves the farm. Can you cover her here?”

“Yes,” Rodrigo said.

“Then maybe we can keep her alive until Fuentes goes on trial.” He pursed his lips. “Marco’s mother is involved in this. You know that.”

“Yes,” the other man said heavily. “Her husband is in federal prison. Marco just got out, and if we can prove he had a gun, it’s a violation of his probation and he’ll go right back in. Pity that Consuelo allowed herself to get mixed up in this.”

“She’d do anything her son asked her to,” Cash said. “He’s all she’s got.”

“It’s a shame.”

“Yes.”

“Are you going to charge her?”

Cash shifted his weight. “On what evidence? We’re going to have hell even holding Marco on any charges that would stand up in court.”

“The sorry little sneak,” Rodrigo muttered. “I’d like to give his face a makeover.”

“Not allowed. Remember, we’re the good guys.”

“Rearranging his face would be good,” Rodrigo said pleasantly.

“You don’t want to meet up with Blake Kemp in a court of law down here. He’s just been appointed district attorney. Our elected one had a stroke and died. Kemp’s handling the job until elections, and I bet you he’ll run. He’s a legal legend already.”

Rodrigo whistled. “I know. Damn!”

“That’s just what the lawless are saying about now,” Cash chuckled. “He’s hell on defendants.”

“He was special forces, too, I believe, along with Cag Hart.”

Cash nodded. “We’re fairly blessed with ex-military around here. If you need help, I’ll do anything I can.”

“Thanks.”

“Did you hear about your ex-partner?” Cash added.

“Sarina?”

“Yes.” Cash grinned. “She’s pregnant.”

Rodrigo felt the words as if they were a physical blow. She hadn’t said a word to him. She’d had the opportunity, at the fiesta. “It must be wonderful news for them.”

“Yes. Andy Webb at the realty company told me about it. They were going to move down here; even bought Hob Downey’s place to build on. But now they want to stay in Houston where the Hunters live, so they’re putting the property back on the market. I suppose they’re pretty much settled in Houston. I don’t know how Sarina’s going to keep up her DEA job, though, in that condition.”

Rodrigo only nodded. He felt as if a cold, hollow place had opened up inside him.

“Well, I’ll get out of here. If you need us, let me know,” Cash added. “We’ll put extra patrols out this way.”

“Tell your new patrolman that the next time he ignores an order from me, he’ll be carried feetfirst into the nearest emergency room.” Rodrigo didn’t smile when he said it, and his eyes were full of muted anger.

“Oh, I’ve already told him that,” Cash replied. He grinned. “I don’t tolerate disobedience, either.”

“But you can thank him for being on the spot today,” the Mexican added. “Even if it was a dry run, Marco’s unpredictable. Glory might be dead if he hadn’t been so quick. I owe him for that.”

“I’ll tell him.”

“And what I’m doing here is still top secret.”

“I knew that, too. Take care.”

“You, too.”

Cash drove off and Rodrigo went back inside. He felt sick all over. Sarina was pregnant. She hadn’t told him. She hadn’t phoned or written. Was he of so little importance to her now, after their three years of intense friendship, that she didn’t even care enough to share her good news with him?

He felt lost and alone. All his dreams were dead. He was never going to be the only man in Sarina’s life. It was a hard blow.

He walked back down the hall to Glory’s room and paused next to her bed. Her cheeks were very flushed and she was still upset.

He sat down beside her on the bed. She reminded him a little of Sarina. But she wasn’t as intelligent, or as brave. Sarina could shoot a gun and she’d faced off bad guys with him over the years. This poor shell of a woman was hiding out because she could put Fuentes on the spot in a murder. He couldn’t imagine Sarina hiding from anyone.

But it wasn’t fair to compare them. Sarina was in excellent health. This young woman had health problems that made her more vulnerable. He was being unreasonable because he was hurt.

He reached out and smoothed back Glory’s soft hair, watching it rainbow around her flushed face. “Feeling better?” he asked quietly.

“Yes,” she said huskily. “I’ll be all right. You look sad.”

He averted his eyes. “Perhaps I am.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

He looked down at her with narrowed eyes and considered the one thing he could ask her that would not only help him heal, but show Sarina that he wasn’t going to spend the rest of his life grieving because he couldn’t have her.

“Yes,” he said in a conversational tone. “As a matter of fact, there is. You can marry me.”

“M
ARRY YOU
?” G
LORY
exclaimed, and really had to fight for breath then.

“Why not?” he asked. “We’re great together in bed. We like the same things. We get along well.”

“But, we’re not in love,” she protested. She did have feelings for him, but she wasn’t going to voice them. At least, not while he was still mourning his pretty blonde.

“What is love? Mutual respect and friendship seem to me to be equally important,” he replied. His eyes narrowed. “You’re reluctant. Is it because I earn my living with my hands, working as a laborer?”

Her eyes widened. “No, not at all,” she said simply. “I admire you.”

He looked surprised. “Why?”

“Because you deal with people so well, with diplomacy and tact,” she began. “You never shout or demean the other workers. You go out of your way to be kind to women and children. You’re honest. You don’t mind hard work. And you aren’t afraid of anything. That’s why.”

He hadn’t expected a list of his character traits. He was surprised that she felt that way about him. He wasn’t what he pretended to be, but she accepted him easily as if he were. For years, women—other than Sarina, of course—had wanted him for what he could give them. Here was one who thought he was poor and didn’t mind. It was humbling.

“I’m flattered.” His eyes narrowed as they looked into hers. “There’s something else. Something you aren’t telling me.”

She averted her eyes.

“Come on,” he coaxed.

“I heard what you said to Consuelo about me,” she confessed. “That I wasn’t the sort of woman who attracted you…that I was too plain…”

He pulled her into his arms and held her. “Bad temper,” he muttered. “I say things I don’t mean sometimes. I didn’t mean that.” He lifted his head and looked down at her. “I really didn’t mean it.”

She relaxed.

He let her back down and propped his hand beside her ear. “You don’t want my children,” he said quietly. His pride still stung from having her tell him that.

She grimaced. “I didn’t mean that. Not really.” She was still uncertain about her ability to carry a child. “I’ve been thinking things over, and I wouldn’t mind having a child.”

His eyebrows went up. His face relaxed into a radiant smile. “Truly?”

She smiled back. Her heart jumped at the expression there. “Truly.”

He traced her soft mouth with his forefinger. “Then suppose you marry me?”

It was crazy. She couldn’t get married; her job left her no free time. She couldn’t have a child—it might kill her. But she was almost certainly pregnant already. If she could find a good doctor, who would keep close care of her, it might not be too dangerous. After all, she’d heard about Grace Carver who had a bad heart valve and she survived pregnancy when she married FBI agent Garon Grier. If Grace could do it, why couldn’t Glory? Besides, with her past, she didn’t want to have the baby out of wedlock. Those old-fashioned values she’d been taught early in life didn’t go away easily.

“Come on,” he chided.

She looked up at him and smiled. She never took risks. She was always conservative. But there was a promise of heaven in those black eyes and her heart was cutting cartwheels inside her. “Yes,” she said, and refused to think of the consequences.

“Yes, what?” he teased, liking the helpless response she gave to his tender ardor.

“Yes, I’ll marry you,” she whispered.

His eyes flashed. Seconds later, his mouth was against hers, hard and demanding. She wanted him. She didn’t mind if he didn’t have a penny to his name and she’d never be financially secure. His heart was flying. She was so like Sarina…

He pulled away from her and sat up. She looked dreamy, happy. He felt guilty because he was using her, in a way, to escape the pain of rejection. But she’d never have to know. They could stay together for a while, enjoy each other. Then, later, perhaps there would be a child. The thought was suddenly depressing. He was only kidding himself that he could be happy with a substitute, even if there was a child. She would never be Sarina, and her child would never be Bernadette. The pain was like a rope around his heart, choking him.

“When?” she asked, interrupting his thoughts.

He got up and hesitated, frowning. “When do you want to?”

She hesitated, too. He looked different suddenly. Perhaps he was having second thoughts. She should start having them; her life was in danger and she was living a lie. She had no business marrying anyone…

“Today,” he said abruptly. “Right now.”

“Right now?”

“We can be over the border in no time,” he said. “Mexican weddings are binding.”

Her head was swimming. Fuentes had sent a killer after her. Marco had pumped bullets through her bedroom door not a half hour ago. The real killer was still out there, and she was going off to marry a man who was probably a drug dealer, even if he wasn’t a convict.

“What’s wrong?” he asked gently.

She couldn’t tell him all that. Not now. She looked up into his dark eyes and knew that it wouldn’t matter. Whatever he was, she was already in love with him. It was far too late for second thoughts. Even if they had only a little time together, surely that was better than having no memories of love at all?

“Nothing’s wrong,” she lied. She got to her feet. “I’m game if you are.”

He took her waist in his lean, strong hands and looked down into her soft green eyes. “You’re taking me on faith,” he said quietly. “I know you suspect that I’m not what I seem. We’ve danced around it, but I know you were with Marquez last night. And I know where you were, Glory.”

She felt numb. She didn’t want to have to think about his nocturnal activities. She wanted to marry him. She wanted to live with him. Her face reflected her troubled thoughts.

“You didn’t know where Marquez was going, did you?” he asked slowly.

She took the opening he offered her. “No. He said we were going for a drive.”

He pursed his lips. “Did he tell you why he was watching the warehouse in Comanche Wells?”

“Oh, yes,” she agreed, lying through her teeth. “He said there was a deal going on to smuggle illegal immigrants into the county and hide them in that warehouse until they could be taken to safe houses.”

He felt a weight lift from him. So Marquez wasn’t on his case. He was working something totally different and had probably suspected Rodrigo was part of an immigrant smuggling enterprise. It made him feel less threatened.

“Rodrigo,” she said gently. “You aren’t getting mixed up in something that’s against the law, are you?” she asked worriedly.

He sighed. He couldn’t tell her the truth. “Will it help if I give you my solemn word that from now on, I’ll never step outside the law?”

Her eyes were beautiful, radiant, full of dreams coming true. “Will you?” she asked and sounded breathless.

He smiled. “Yes.”

“But I would have married you even if you were mixed up in something illegal, Rodrigo,” she said gently. “Although I’d hope that you’d give it up, for me.”

He felt like a boy on his first date. He started smiling and couldn’t stop.

“I promise that I’ll never hurt you. And I’ll protect you from anyone who means you harm. If we’re married, we can share a bedroom, and nobody will get near you at night. I’ll take care of you.”

Her heart flew. She smiled. Her face lit up. “I’ll take care of you, too,” she said impishly.

He chuckled. “You will? How kind of you.”

She hugged him, impulsively, laying her cheek against his broad chest in perfect safety. “In my whole life,” she said softly, “I’ve never felt as safe as I do when I’m with you.”

That made him feel even more guilty, but he didn’t let it show. He folded her close. “That’s how I want you to feel.”

He savored the warm contact, thinking how easily he could have lost her to Marco’s insanity, could still lose her to violence. He wondered exactly what she’d seen that had put her life in danger. He meant to find out. But not today.

After a minute, he eased her out of his arms. “We’d better get going.”

“What about Consuelo?” she asked suddenly, worried.

His eyes darkened. “We’ll pretend she knew nothing about it and bide our time.”

“Do you think she really was willing to let her son kill me?”

He looked uncomfortable. “I don’t know, Glory,” he said honestly. “I don’t think she wanted him to.”

“Neither do I. He belongs to the Serpientes gang,” she added. “They don’t forgive mistakes.”

He cocked his head as he studied her. “No, they don’t.” He wondered if Marquez had told her about that. How else would she know about a big city street gang?

“He may not live long enough to face charges.”

“True enough.”

“Poor Consuelo.”

He tugged a long lock of blond hair. “You’re still concerned about last night, aren’t you?” he murmured.

He meant the drug drop. She reached up and put her fingers over his hard mouth. “I don’t care what you are, what you do,” she said huskily. “I only know that I…I care about you, and I trust you. It won’t matter. None of it will matter.”

He caught his breath audibly. She thought he was a criminal and she didn’t care. She wanted him, no matter what. It was very humbling.

“One day, it might,” he said honestly.

“Then we’ll face that day together, when it comes,” she said stubbornly.

He smiled gently. “I knew you were special the first time I saw you, when you drove me up a wall joking about the can can.”

“You didn’t like me very much.”

“Actually I did,” he replied. “And I admired you. It wasn’t hard to notice that you didn’t let the limp keep you down. You have a strong will, and a good heart.”

She wanted to ask about the blonde woman, the one he cared for. Maybe there had been a true breakup there. But she was a coward. She didn’t really want to know. She’d make him love her, somehow. She knew she could, if she tried. She’d keep her secret about the baby and about her real job, and go forward day by day.

T
HEY WERE MARRIED IN
a small chapel by the village priest. He didn’t speak English, but Rodrigo’s native tongue was Spanish, so they got by. She hadn’t asked about rings, but Rodrigo produced one at the ceremony and slid it onto her ring finger. The wedding ring was a complex embossed band with white and yellow gold in its pattern. The companion band was equally detailed and contained a large diamond. It must have cost a fortune. She wanted to protest, but it was too late. It was a little snug on her finger. She wondered, and hated herself for it, if he’d bought that set for someone else—that blonde woman, perhaps.

“They’re beautiful,” she said as they drove back across the border.

“What?”

“My rings,” she replied, glancing at him. “However did you get them so quickly?”

“I’ve had them for a few months,” he said noncommittally.

She hated them. She wanted to wrench them off her hand and throw them out the window. That would never do. He was grieving for that blonde woman and her child. But if Glory could be patient, perhaps she could make him love her. Then, then, she’d ask about the wedding and engagement rings. When she could safely tell him about the child she was certain she was carrying, he might buy her a new set of rings, purchased just for her.

C
ONSUELO WAS IN THE
kitchen when they got home. She’d been crying, and she looked sick. She jumped when the back door opened.

“You’re all right,” she exclaimed when she saw Glory. “I was so worried! When I got back, you were gone, and all I could get from the workers was that they heard sirens! Marco called me from the detention center and said he needed a lawyer. What for?”

Rodrigo didn’t smile. “Marco put two bullets through Glory’s bedroom door, trying to shoot her.”

Consuelo seemed horrified. “No. Oh, no, he wouldn’t hurt you. There’s been a misunderstanding, that’s all,” she said firmly. “I know they’ve arrested him, but he said he was only trying to get your attention. It was the other boy who shot the gun. He said the policeman charged him with assault and accused him of firing the shots, but Marco doesn’t have a gun, you know. He’s on parole, so he’d have to go back to prison if he had a gun.”

Talk about trying to live in dreams, Glory thought. Poor woman. She couldn’t stop defending her son, even when he was caught red-handed.

“Besides, the police did not find a gun,” Consuelo added. She stared at them and then, slowly, began to realize that Glory was wearing rings. Her eyes widened. “You are married!” she exclaimed.

Rodrigo smiled. “Yes. We went across the border.”

“But you should have told me! I can make a cake and we can have a special supper.” She was in total denial. She pushed back her wild, disheveled hair. “I must see if there are enough eggs…”

“Consuelo, not tonight,” Rodrigo told her. “It has been a very long day for Glory. She isn’t feeling well, after the excitement earlier.”

The older woman looked at her and noticed the flushed cheeks, the haunted eyes. She grimaced.
“Pobrecita,”
she said softly. “I am so sorry. So sorry!”

Glory went forward and hugged her gently. “You don’t ever have to apologize to me for anything,” she said softly. “Thank you for the thought. But I’d really rather just lie down and not think about eating right now. I’m very tired.”

“Of course you are.” Consuelo stepped back. For an instant, her eyes looked odd. Glory couldn’t think of a word to describe them. But then, she smiled, and the look was gone. “Think what you would like to have, and I’ll bring it to you later. Okay?”

“Okay,” Glory said, smiling.

Rodrigo took her arm and walked her down the hall to her room, glaring at the sight of the bullet holes in the wood. “We need to move you into my room,” he said.

“Not right now,” she pleaded, laughing softly. “I’m sorry, but I really am tired. I just want to lie down for a few minutes.”

“That isn’t a bad idea. I have to check on the men and see how they’re doing. Castillo was supposed to get them started after lunch, but I like to make sure. You’ll be all right,” he added, bending to kiss her softly on her mouth. “Put your cell phone in your pocket and call me if you need me.”