Fearless (12 page)

“I don’t know your number,” she replied.

He held out his hand. She put her phone into it. He flipped it open and pulled up her phonebook, frowning when he saw the names there. “The San Antonio D.A.’s office?” he murmured.

“About the Fuentes case,” she said easily, forcing herself not to react.

“Of course.” What a coincidence, he was thinking, that both of them were under the gun because of Fuentes. He pulled up another screen, added his number, gave it a speed-dial number and handed the phone back to her. “I’m speed-dial number fifteen,” he said, and started laughing. “You must spend a lot of time on the phone.”

Hours every day when she was at work, but she couldn’t tell him that. “I work for a temporary agency when I’m not cooking,” she told him demurely. “I have regular clients that I work for.”

He nodded. His mind was already on work. “I’ll be back soon,” he promised. He helped her onto the bed and kissed her one last time. “You look pretty, Señora Ramirez,” he teased. Strange, how right it sounded.

She felt the same. She smiled up at him with her whole heart. “Señora Ramirez,” she seconded with a sigh. She’d never expected to marry at all. Now she was married to a man who might be a drug smuggler. But she wasn’t going to think about that today. She was going to savor being married to this sexy, fantastic man.

He winked at her from the door.

She closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

That night, she slept in Rodrigo’s arms. It was the first night of her adult life that she’d slept well. He hadn’t approached her sexually, murmuring that she’d had too much excitement already for one day. Besides, he added, they had the rest of their lives for that particular pleasure.

G
LORY WORKED IN THE
kitchen with Consuelo, as usual, but the older woman was clearly distracted. Just about noon, the phone rang and she rushed to answer it.

“Marco?” she exclaimed. “Where are you? What? No. No! How could they have found it? Oh, that idiot boy, I warned you…!” She glanced at Glory. She was speaking Spanish. Glory was working away, apparently ignorant of what her co-worker was saying. “I will find an attorney to represent you. Yes, I understand. I will. I said I will, Marco! Don’t worry, I’ll find a way to get you out. Just do what they say for now. Yes. Yes. I love you.”

She hung up, moving back to the stove where Glory was stirring the last batch of peaches.

“Bad news?” Glory asked.

“That idiot boy that Marco hangs out with had the pistol. He was the one who shot at your door, because he was drunk,” Consuelo said. “Now he runs away and Marco is charged with breaking parole by owning a firearm. I could strangle that boy!”

Nothing was ever Marco’s fault, Glory discerned. It was always somebody else who made the mistake and blamed Marco for it.

“You did not see who fired the gun?” Consuelo asked.

“Of course not, I was behind the door,” Glory told her.

“Marco swears it wasn’t him.”

Glory was remembering Marco’s threat, that he’d get her. She didn’t want to mention it to Consuelo, or their good working relationship would be over. It did sting a little that Consuelo was taking up for her son who had tried to shoot Glory.

“They are holding Marco at the detention center. I must go and take him some money. Can you manage?”

“Yes,” Glory assured her.

“There is only this last batch of peach preserves and then we have nothing to do until the apples come in, so it shouldn’t be hard to finish,” she added.

“I’ll do fine. Go ahead and see about your son.”

Consuelo took off her apron and smoothed her blouse over her slacks. Odd, Glory thought, those pants looked as if they were made of silk. So did the blouse. That was an expensive outfit to wear in a kitchen, surely?

“I won’t be long,” Consuelo assured her with a smile.

“Okay.”

W
HILE
C
ONSUELO AND
R
ODRIGO
were out of the house, Glory phoned Dr. Lou Coltrain’s office and got an appointment with her for that afternoon. Consuelo would surely eat lunch before she returned, and Rodrigo wouldn’t mind cold cuts for lunch—she’d leave him a note, although she wouldn’t mention where she was going.

It was a slow day at the clinic, so she got in to see Lou early. The tall, blonde woman doctor smiled at her as she came into the cubicle.

“Miss Barnes? I’m Lou Coltrain.”

“Glad to meet you,” Glory said. She sighed. “I would very much like for you to tell me that I’m not pregnant.”

Lou’s eyebrows arched. “Why?”

“It’s an inconvenient time. And,” she added reluctantly, “I have high blood pressure.”

Lou was solemn. “How high?”

Glory told her.

“You’re medicated?”

“Yes.” She gave the dosage and strength of the capsules she took for the condition.

“Are you married?”

Glory flushed, and then laughed. “Yes. Just yesterday, in Mexico.”

Lou hesitated. “You know, a blood test the day after you get married isn’t going to be conclusive.”

“It’s been several weeks since my last period,” Glory told her. “This amazing, sexy man came up on my blind side. I couldn’t resist him then, and I couldn’t refuse when he asked me to marry him. He really wants a child.”

Lou pulled up her rolling stool and sat down. “What do you want?” she asked quietly.

Glory hesitated. “I thought I wanted my job and no complications. But now the complications are much more exciting than the job. My doctor and my boss sent me down here to get me away from stress and danger.”

“I see.” Lou was writing on a pad. “Your doctor’s name and phone number?”

Glory gave it to her.

“You’re taking a blood thinner as well as the combination hypertension and diuretic drug?”

“Yes.”

“Any angina?”

“Yesterday,” Glory replied.

“What triggered it?”

“A man shot at me through my bedroom door.”

Lou stopped writing and gaped at her patient. “So that’s what was going on! We heard the sirens, and somebody said that a shooter was loose on the Pendleton Farm. Did they catch him?”

“In the act,” Glory replied with a smile. “One of them, at least.”

“Why was he shooting at you?”

“I have evidence that a drug dealer conspired to commit murder,” Glory told her. “I just have to live long enough to give it in court.”

“All that and a baby…Miss Barnes, you are a wonder!”

“Señora,” Glory corrected in a tone still filled with wonder. “Señora Ramirez.”

Lou grinned. “I still remember the first time somebody called me Mrs. Coltrain. You don’t quite get over the thrill, do you? Okay, let’s draw some blood and then we’ll talk.”

H
ALF AN HOUR AND ONE
emergency later, Lou walked back into Glory’s cubicle, sat down and smiled.

“You have decisions to make.”

“Am I?” Glory asked breathlessly.

“You are,” Lou replied. “It could be a false positive this early, but considering the symptoms you’re having, I doubt it. If you’re thinking of a termination, this is the time to do it. If that’s what you want.”

“It isn’t,” Glory said at once. She hesitated. “There is a risk, isn’t there?”

“Have you been taking the blood thinners regularly?”

Glory sat very still. “Yes. I didn’t think…!”

“You need to see your own doctor,” Lou said, trying not to sound as worried as she really was.

“I can’t go back to San Antonio right now,” Glory replied. “I’m a walking target if I do.”

“Then I can refer you to a cardiologist who comes down here from Houston one day a week,” she said. “She’s very good. And she’s due here tomorrow.”

“That would be nice.”

“Let her examine you and make recommendations. Then we’ll all talk. Including your husband,” she added. “He’s part of this. You can’t make such a decision alone.”

“I may have to,” Glory said sadly. “I haven’t told him what I really do for a living, or how bad my health problems are.”

“Is that wise?”

“Not really. But I wasn’t thinking of getting pregnant when we…”

“That’s the time you’re supposed to think of getting pregnant,” Lou reminded her. “Especially a high-risk case like yours.”

“I messed up,” Glory said, but she smiled. “I haven’t had much family life.” Because Lou was a sympathetic listener, Glory opened up and told her about the past, including her father’s tragic fate.

Lou grimaced. “People who’ve had less trauma than you have are always blaming an abusive childhood for their problems. Look at you.”

“I got lucky,” Glory said. “Well, in some ways, at least.” She stared at Lou. “I want this baby very much. Please tell me there’s a chance…?”

“There’s always a chance, however slim,” Lou replied. Her expression was solemn. “But you need to speak with the cardiologist before you make a decision. It isn’t sensible to lose your life bringing a child into the world.”

“Tell that to Grace Grier,” Glory said, tongue-in-cheek.

Lou laughed. “My husband did. It was useless, of course. Grace was a very determined lady.”

“So am I. I graduated law school with honors,” she added.

“I’m not surprised.”

L
OU SET UP THE APPOINTMENT
for Glory. She’d have to figure some way to sneak out of the house, she told herself, to get to it without arousing suspicion. She didn’t know it, but that problem was about to solve itself.

The first thing she noticed when she walked into the house was how quiet it was. No clocks ticking. No sounds from the kitchen. No water running. Nothing. It was like walking into a tomb. She wondered why her mind had come up with such an analogy as she leaned on her cane and frowned, listening.

Seconds later, the analogy slammed the door behind her.

“At last,” came a familiar voice. “Finally I have you where I want you, alone, with no hope of escape!”

G
LORY GRIPPED THE HEAD
of her cane tightly in her hand. She hadn’t hung around with policemen and deputy sheriffs and Texas Rangers for the past few years without learning some basic self-defense techniques. She hoped they were going to save her life, because she heard a pistol cock behind her.

“Turn around,” the voice growled. “I want you to see who’s killing you!”

Glory’s heart was racing, but she wasn’t going down without a fight. She was carrying her great-grandfather’s cane, which he’d used to kill rattlesnakes. It was oiled, heavy and deadly. She leaned on the cane, as if it were painful to turn around. She moved very slowly, until she had a glimpse of fabric in the corner of her eye. Then, suddenly, she lifted the cane, pivoted quickly on her good leg, and swung the heavy cane with all her might. There was a harsh cry.

The gun, the cane and Consuelo all went flying across the floor. Glory didn’t hesitate. She dived for the gun on the floor, grabbed it and aimed it at the erstwhile cook, who was still lying on the floor, trying to figure out what had happened to her.

Glory sat up, her breathing steadier now. She scooted back to the table where she’d dropped her purse and tugged it down onto the floor beside her. She felt for her phone, never taking her eyes off Consuelo, who was stirring.

She opened the flip phone with her free hand and dialed 911. When the dispatcher’s voice came on the line, she gave her information very calmly and asked for assistance.

“Ma’am, is there a gun involved?”

“Yes, there is,” Glory replied tightly, “and I’m aiming it at the woman who just tried to kill me.”

“We’ll have a unit there in no time. Please stay on the line.”

Consuelo turned on the floor. She was sitting now, feeling the lump on her head that she’d sustained when Glory knocked her into the wall. She gaped at her own gun being aimed dead at her.

Glory didn’t blink. “Move and you die,” she told the older woman.

Consuelo began to see her predicament. “Oh, it’s just you!” she exclaimed. “Thank God! I had word that someone was going to kill me!”

“Nice try,” Glory replied.

“They’ll believe me if I sound sincere enough,” Consuelo purred. She started to get up.

“I wouldn’t,” Glory replied. She cocked the gun, trying to look confident when she knew she’d never hit Consuelo even if she could manage to hold the heavy thing steady enough to fire it.

The bluff must have worked, because Consuelo hesitated.

Glory was praying she wouldn’t have to shoot. She’d probably hit everything in the room except Consuelo, with her bad aim. She couldn’t even handle a .22, and this was a big .45 Colt automatic.

Her hand trembled holding the gun. Consuelo looked at it with increasing interest. Just as she worried that Consuelo had her pegged and was going to get up and charge her, sirens became audible and, in seconds, they came screaming up into the front yard. Car doors slammed.

Cash Grier came running in the back door, flanked by two of his officers.

“Looks like your goose is cooked,” Glory told the older woman.

“It’s all just a misunderstanding,” Consuelo said with a shaky smile. “I had a call that someone meant to kill me and Glory came in unexpectedly.”

Cash moved toward Glory. “That how it happened?” he asked her.

She handed him the .45. “Not quite. I walked in, she came up behind me and told me to turn around so that I could see who was killing me.”

“That’s a lie!” Consuelo exclaimed. “I had a call…!”

She stopped, while one of the other officers tugged her to her feet and handcuffed her.

“Yes, you did have a call,” Cash agreed. “From Fuentes, telling you to carry out your assignment.”

Consuelo gaped at him.

“Didn’t I think to mention that we wiretapped your phone?” he added.

Consuelo’s dark eyes flashed. She smiled coldly at Glory, showing her true colors at last. “Maybe I missed,” she said, “but Fuentes will just get somebody else to collect the bounty!”

“I wouldn’t bet on it,” Cash told her. “We had his phone wiretapped, too.”

“Brilliant,” Glory said.

Cash helped her up while Consuelo was taken, still cursing, out to the squad car. “We get lucky sometimes,” he said. “But then, we get problems as well. Marquez did get a warrant to wiretap Fuentes’s phone,” he added with a grimace. “But Fuentes has jumped bail. Nobody knows where he is.”

Glory felt weak in the knees. She sat down in a chair at the kitchen table. “So Consuelo was right. He’ll send somebody else.”

“We’ve got a deal working,” Cash said. “I can’t tell you the details, but it involves a big shipment of a very illegal product. Fuentes has had problems with his distributors. If he loses this load, we won’t have to go after him. His distributors will take him out for us.”

“Can I help?” she asked.

“Sure. Don’t play with guns,” he said, popping the clip out of the .45. “I heard about your target practice sessions.”

“Yes, well, I would have probably hit something if I’d fired that,” she said, indicating the gun.

“Good thing you bluff well,” he added. “You okay?”

She nodded. “You know, I came down here to get away from stress.”

“We’ve removed the hit woman,” Cash said. “And we’re working on Fuentes’s operation. With any luck, we’ll have you back in San Antonio in no time. If you really want to go,” he added. “We heard about the marriage, too,” he added with a grin.

“How?” she exclaimed. “I haven’t told anyone!”

Cash looked uneasy. He frowned. “Funny. I can’t remember how I found out.”

This was suspicious. Something was going on that she wasn’t being told about.

“Who told you?” she persisted.

He was beginning to look hunted when a truck roared up out front and a door slammed. Rodrigo came in the door like a tornado. He took in the scene, dark eyes blazing with concern. His chambray shirt was stained with sweat. His black hair fell damply over his forehead. It was a hot day.

“I heard the sirens out in the fields. What happened?” he asked.

“Just a little problem with the hired help,” Glory said, trying to lighten the look on his face.

“Can you translate that?” he asked, approaching her.

She shifted uncomfortably on the chair. Her hip was killing her. “When I came home, Consuelo was waiting for me with that gun.” She indicated it, stuck in Cash’s belt.

“Consuelo?” He looked absolutely shocked. He went down on one knee in front of Glory, his lean, warm hands stroking her arms. “Did she hit you? Were you hurt?” he asked worriedly.

It was like going to heaven. She loved that look in his eyes that was part concern for her and part fury against the person who’d threatened her. She felt safe.

“Luckily your wife is handy with this cane,” Cash interjected. He lifted the cane, felt its weight and frowned. “It’s heavy.”

“It was my great-grandfather’s,” Glory told him. “Back in his day, men oiled their canes, so they were heavier and could be used for self-protection. He used to kill rattlers with that. Good thing for me it was sturdy, because it only took one swing to send Consuelo into the wall headfirst.”

“My brave girl,” Rodrigo said, and his eyes were warm and soft and full of pride in her.

She wanted to believe that his concern was real, she wanted it so badly. She flung herself into his arms and held on for dear life, savoring the strength of his embrace.

“You had to save yourself, again,” he said ruefully. “That’s twice, in a handful of days. Two times too many. I have to take better care of you, Señora Ramirez.”

Cash noticed the rings Glory was wearing. “That’s a pretty set of wedding rings,” he said, hoping to dig himself out of the hole he’d almost fallen into.

“Oh, you saw them,” Glory remarked over Rodrigo’s broad shoulder. She relaxed. So did Cash.

“I’d never have suspected Consuelo as a hit woman.” Rodrigo cursed, still holding Glory close. “I should have known! If Marco was in on it, Consuelo had to be.”

“She’s got a rap sheet as long as my leg,” Cash told him. “I gather you don’t do background checks here.”

“For a cook?” Rodrigo mused. “Get real.”

“I noticed that she was wearing silk slacks and blouses,” Glory commented. “I thought it was rather odd for working in a kitchen.”

“I should have noticed that, too,” Rodrigo mused.

She only smiled. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings by remarking that a farm laborer would hardly know silk when he saw it.

Rodrigo saw that look and had to fight an angry response. Of course, she wasn’t supposed to know that he was anything other than what he pretended to be. He glanced at Cash.

“Glory will have to fill out a report, won’t she?”

“Yes, if we’re going to charge Consuelo. She’s also going to have to fill one out on Marco—I let it slide because she was so upset. I never imagined she’d be doing two of them!”

“I don’t mind,” Glory told Cash. “Tell me what to do,” she added, pretending that she didn’t know the procedure.

Cash walked her through it, trying not to laugh.

“I’ll drive her over to the magistrate’s court and let her swear out warrants for mother and son,” Cash told Rodrigo. “I expect you’re going to be busy trying to find a new cook.”

“Pronto,” Rodrigo agreed, helping Glory to her feet. “We’ve got shipments to get out, and this is the last of the peaches. Pity Consuelo had to reveal herself now. If she’d waited a few days, it would have been great for the farm.”

“I don’t think the farm was exactly her priority,” Glory murmured. “I’ll do my part as soon as I get through helping Chief Grier lock Marco and Consuelo up for a while.”

“Talk to the judge,” Rodrigo advised Cash. “Try to get her to set bail upward of a million dollars on each of them.”

“I’ll do my best,” Cash agreed.

“You’re sure you’re all right?” Rodrigo asked, because Glory’s color was high.

“I’m just fine. A little unsettled by all the excitement, that’s all,” she reassured him. Her hip hurt, and her heart was beating far too fast. She hoped she wouldn’t disgrace herself by passing out.

He nodded. “You’ll bring her home?” he asked Cash.

“Of course.”

“Then, I’ll get on the phone and start looking for a cook,” Rodrigo replied.

“You might try Angel Martinez’s wife,” Glory said. “She’s a great cook, according to Angel.”

He gave her a long look. “They’re probably both illegal.”

“You don’t know that,” she told him firmly.

He searched her eyes and then, finally, smiled. “All right. But if I end up in federal prison for harboring illegals, you’ll have to bail me out.”

“Nobody is going to need bailing out except Consuelo and her son, and you can quote me,” Cash assured him with a grin. “Angel and his family are going to be just fine.” Fortunately he didn’t look at Glory when he said that. The two of them had called in favors to get Angel’s case heard, hopefully with good results. Meanwhile, the man had three children to support, and his wife didn’t work.

“What will she do with the kids?” Rodrigo asked with some concern. “None of them are older than seven. She can’t leave them alone while she works over here.”

“She can bring the children with her,” Glory said to Rodrigo, smiling. “We’ll keep them busy while we cook.”

Rodrigo gave her a long look, but he didn’t comment.

S
HE AND
C
ASH STOPPED
by the magistrate’s office, took out a warrant for Marco for aggravated assault and one for Consuelo’s arrest on attempted murder. Cash added one for possession of a firearm, because Consuelo had a criminal record and wasn’t allowed to own a gun. Glory filled out reports and chatted. The Magistrate was fascinated by the story, especially her foiling of the murder plot on her own.

“These drug lords are getting far too powerful,” he commented. “But where there’s a demand, there will be a supply. That applies to most everything, but especially drugs.” He shook his head. “When I was a boy—” he looked over his glasses at her and grinned under his gray hair “—we didn’t have drugs in the schools. I have to admit, I never even knew anyone who used them. But that was in the fifties. The whole world has changed since then. We watched Hopalong Cassidy and Roy Rogers at the theaters, and then Superman on black and white TV. We had wholesome heroes to emulate. It seems to me that in the modern world, far too many boys admire drug dealers, and their goal in life is to grow up and go to prison.” He shook his head. “Somehow, we’re losing an entire generation of productive citizens, and drugs are mostly responsible. Quick money, flashy cars, no working your way into a better job and a stiff prison sentence when you get caught. How is that appealing?”

“Don’t ask me,” Glory replied. “I spend most of my time helping them get into prison.”

“I have heard about your record,” the magistrate said with a smile. “You’re a trouper, Miss Barnes.” He hesitated. “I knew your father. He was a good man. It hurt us all to see him unjustly punished for something he didn’t do.”

“Thank you for that,” she said, fighting tears. “I did clear his name, even if it was years too late. His conviction was why I studied law.”

“I thought it might be. I’m glad to have had the opportunity to meet you. Now that Blake Kemp is our county D.A., you might consider coming back here to fight crime.” He looked at her over his glasses again. “I could look for some silver bullets and a mask…?”

She laughed. “I could never pass for The Lone Ranger,” she assured him. “I’m too short.”

“Still,” he said wistfully. “It’s a thought.”

“M
OST MAGISTRATES ARE
rather somber, I’ve found,” she told Cash on the way home.

“Not Lionel,” he replied. “He’s the town character. I think the modern term is ‘eccentric.’”

“Does he do eccentric things?”

“Depends on your point of view,” Cash replied. “I suppose some people would feel uncomfortable with a wolf in the house, but he’s a bachelor. I guess he can do what he pleases.”

“A wolf? A real wolf?” she exclaimed.

He nodded. “She’s a beauty, too. He found her on the highway and went through the usual maddening channels of bureaucracy trying to help her. Vets can’t treat wild animals, you know, you have to locate a certified rehabilitator. There aren’t a lot of them, and many hurt animals die while you’re looking for one who will answer the phone.” He glanced at her. “Most of them are so overworked that they cringe every time the phone rings. Well, anyway, Lionel took the wolf in and nursed her back to health, and then took the course that certifies you as a wildlife rehabilitator. He specializes in wolves. So he was allowed to keep the wolf, which lost a leg as the result of the accident. It could never go back into the wild, you see. He takes it around to the elementary school and gives lectures on wolves. It’s a very gentle wolf. The kids love it. It’s on a leash, of course. He may be eccentric but he’s not crazy. All it would take is one little boy who smells strongly of bologna…”