“Luck.” Reaching up, he opened the overhead light cover and popped out the tiny bulb. “Ready?”
“Uh…yeah.”
He opened the door. “Slide out this side.”
Then they were standing next to the car. Drizzle made the night cold and damp and caused halos to form around the sodium-vapor street lamp.
“Stay low and follow me.” Taking her hand, he ducked and ran toward the gate that would take them into Angela’s yard.
J
ESS’S HEART WAS POUNDING
hard as she watched Madrid fumble with the latch. The gate squeaked open and a moment later they were sprinting alongside the hedge toward the rear of the house. He paused at the cellar door and for the span of several heartbeats they listened.
“So far, so good,” he whispered, and reached for the cellar door handle.
The hinges creaked as the door opened. Narrow stairs before they descended into total darkness. A shiver swept through her at the thought of going down there. Back at the church, it had seemed like a good idea. The best way to find Angela’s killers and bring them to justice. Now staring down into the cold darkness of the cellar, Jess suddenly wasn’t so sure.
She jolted when Madrid touched her hand. “I’ll go first,” he said.
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
The steps creaked like old bones as he descended into the inky-black abyss. Closing her eyes briefly, she took a fortifying breath and followed. The smell of must and wet dirt filled her nose. She could hear their shoes against old wood and feel the hard thrust of adrenaline-rich blood through her veins.
She jumped when Madrid closed the cellar door overhead, plunging them into total darkness. “I can’t see a thing,” she whispered.
“That’s the idea.”
Relief swept through her when the tiny beam of a flashlight cut through the black. “You’re not scared of the dark, are you?” he asked.
“Only when I’m expecting someone with a gun to jump out.”
He took her hand, and they crossed the damp floor and headed toward the steps that would take them to the utility room off the kitchen. “Let’s make this quick.”
He released her hand at the top of the stairs and pulled an ugly-looking pistol from his waistband before stepping into the utility room. Dim light from the kitchen window beyond made it possible to see. On familiar ground now, Jess started toward the door, but Madrid hooked his finger in the collar of her shirt and pulled her back.
“Let’s make sure we don’t have company before we start prancing around.”
“I was just going to suggest that.”
“Right.” With the gun leading the way, he moved into the kitchen.
Jess followed. The familiar homeyness struck her as they moved through the house, clearing each room as they went. She thought of Angela, reminded herself why they were there, and the sense of purpose bolstered her. Within just a few minutes, they had established that they were alone.
“You mentioned an office,” Madrid said. “That might be a good place to start.”
Jess took him to the office Angela had set up in one of the extra bedrooms. A two-drawer file cabinet squatted in the corner, and a desk sat adjacent the single window, facing the door.
“You take the desk,” Madrid said. “I’ll take the file cabinet.”
Jess went to the desk and sat in the chair. “What are we looking for?”
“Anything even remotely interesting or suspicious,” he said. “Notes. Documentation. Photos. Anything that looks like code.”
Jess tried the first drawer, but it was locked. Madrid must have noticed, because before she could speak he nudged her aside. In less than a minute he picked the lock.
“You’re good at that,” she said, amazed.
His dark gaze met hers. “I’m good at a lot of things.”
You’re certainly good at kissing
. The errant thought came out of nowhere. She banked it quickly, but not before she felt a hot blush creep into her cheeks.
“Good at getting into trouble,” she said.
“That, too.” He went back to the file cabinet and began picking the lock.
Jess’s pulse was racing when she looked down at the
opened desk drawer. Only this time it didn’t have anything to do with the fear of discovery and had everything to do with the dark-eyed man who’d kissed her as she’d never been kissed before.
Trying to get her focus back, she pulled out the first file and paged through it. Credit card bills. Utility bills. Bank statements. She closed the folder, shoved it back into the drawer and went to the next. Vaguely she was aware of Madrid doing the same thing in the file cabinet, and of rain pounding against the roof and the windows on the west side of the house.
She found a file marked “Nicolas” and opened it. Grief struck her hard at the sight of his progress reports, letters from teachers and psychologists. At the rear of the folder she found several crude drawings the little boy had done in crayon. One depicted a mother and child walking through a forest, hand in hand. Jess’s throat tightened.
Oh, Angela…
“Find something?”
She started at the sound of Madrid’s voice and looked up to see him standing over her shoulder, gazing at the drawing. “Just this,” she said.
He grimaced, looking away. “That’s a good reminder as to why we’re here.”
“I thought so, too.” Sliding the drawing back into the drawer, she went to the next file. “I’ve got one more drawer to go through.”
He motioned to the file cabinet. “I didn’t find anything, but we still have the rest of the house.” He started toward the door, but hesitated, then turned to her. “Will you be all right here?”
“Just don’t get out of screaming distance.”
Never taking his eyes from hers, he crossed to her and handed her the flashlight. “Keep the beam down in case someone drives by.”
“Thanks.” She took the flashlight.
“I’m going to poke around. I’ll meet you back here in five minutes.”
“Be careful,” she said.
He gave her a reckless smile and then he was gone.
Jess was thinking about the kiss again as she opened the last drawer. She knew they were dangerous thoughts floating through her head; there was no way the spark that had been ignited between them could go anywhere.
“Except away,” she muttered, pulling out another file.
Setting the flashlight on the desktop, she began paging through the folder. She found car insurance documents, warranties for the washing machine. A repair bill for the furnace. She was about to slide the folder back into the drawer when she came to a second one tucked inside the first. She opened it to find a small leather-bound notebook. She saw handwritten notes detailing events, dates and names.
Thursday, January 20. Finks left house a few minutes before midnight. Tried to follow—took off. Did he recognize the car? Not sure what he’s up to. Suspicious. Run a background check.
Tuesday, January 25. Followed Finks. Pulled over by LPPD. Officer Styles. They know I’m up to something. Talk to Cutter tomorrow.
Sunday, January 30. Working a double shift. Watched house. Finks left at midnight. Shipyard on Luna Bay. Gate locked. Smuggling drugs? Guns? Tried to feel out Mummert. He’s ready to retire. Doesn’t have a clue.
Wednesday, February 2. Got in s.y. Got pics. Young women. Poor conditions. They know I know. Need proof. Gotta call Cutter and get out.
Jess knew immediately she’d discovered something important. The notes implied the Lighthouse Point PD was into something illegal, but what? Had Angela been spying on her fellow cops? Had they found out about it?
Jess paged through the folder with renewed enthusiasm. She found more notes. Photographs. A photocopy of a newspaper story. She was so involved in her work she didn’t notice the play of headlights over the window until it was too late.
Chapter Six
Jess’s gaze flew to the window, her heart hammering. Light flashed on the wall above her and she could see the glare of headlights through the sheer curtains. A car had pulled into the driveway. Adrenaline and fear jolted her so hard she nearly dropped the file.
“Madrid!” she whispered. “Someone’s—”
She nearly yelped when his voice sounded directly behind her. “I’m right here.”
She swung around to see him already darting to the window. “What do we do?” she asked.
“The official term for it is hide.” Spinning away from the window, he took her hand and hauled her toward the door. “You know the house better than I do. Any suggestions?”
Possibilities spun through her mind, but fear was jumbling her thoughts. How many times had she played hide-and-seek with Nicolas? Where did he like to hide? “Th-the staircase. There’s an alcove beneath it.”
He took her in that direction just as keys rattled in the front door. As the door squeaked open they ducked
behind an old desk Angela had been refinishing. For a terrible moment Jess thought they had been spotted.
“Easy,” Madrid whispered.
Jess barely heard him over the wild beat of her heart. She looked at him, but didn’t dare speak. Someone was in the house; she could hear them moving around. Ten feet away a flashlight beam cut through the darkness, swept over the desk they were hiding behind.
Oh, God. Oh, God!
She heard heavy footfalls on the wood floor. Getting closer. Her pulse roared like a jet engine in her ears. She couldn’t remember if she’d closed the desk drawer in Angela’s office. Would they notice?
Closing her eyes tightly, she clutched the file against her chest and tried desperately to control her breathing. Vaguely she was aware of the crackle of a police radio.
“This is 1452. I’m 10-23, and there’s no sign of a 10-14. Over.”
“Roger that, 1452.”
Jess opened her eyes to see the flashlight beam cut toward the kitchen. The sound of footsteps faded. Next to her, Madrid was as silent and still as stone. But she could feel the minute tremor that ran through him; she could feel the heat emanating from his body into hers, and at that moment the sensation comforted her in a way nothing else could have.
“Shhh…easy.”
His mouth was less than an inch from her ear, so close she could feel the warm brush of his breath against her skin. The moment shouldn’t have been anything but terrifying. It certainly shouldn’t have been
intimate. But even frightened for her life, Jess couldn’t deny the slice of heat low in her belly.
After several minutes the front door opened and closed. The faint sound of an engine starting sounded from outside. Madrid moved out from behind the desk first. Jess straightened, but her legs were too weak to move.
He crossed to the window and peered out. “He’s gone.”
She pressed a hand to her stomach, the reality of what they’d narrowly avoided making her feel sick. “How did he know we were here?”
“He didn’t.” Madrid’s eyes cut to hers. “If he’d known he would have looked harder. He would have found us.”
“But why was he here?”
He glanced out the window again. “I don’t know. Maybe a neighbor saw our flashlight. Thought we were burglarizing the place.” His gaze flicked to the folder she was clutching to her chest. “What’s that?”
Jess had nearly forgotten about the file. “I think I found something.”
He reached for it, tucked it into his waistband. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
M
ADRID WASN’T EASILY
shaken; he’d been through too many life-and-death situations to let the incident at Angela’s house shake him. Only, this one had. And the response troubled him. He knew it wasn’t because he feared for his own safety, but for Jess’s.
He couldn’t let himself get too close to her. He sure
as hell couldn’t let himself care. Bad things happened to the people who got close to him. Too bad he was failing miserably on both counts.
“Where are we going?”
He glanced at Jess, felt the knot in his gut loosen at the sight of her. She was lovely, and for an instant he wanted to reach out and touch her just to make sure she was real.
“In case you’ve forgotten, we’ve got one more stop to make,” he said.
She looked a little green around the gills. “The police station.”
“You got a better idea?”
“No.”
She was trying to be brave about it, but he could tell the thought terrified her. To be perfectly honest it terrified him, too. But for all the wrong reasons.
“Look,” he said, “I’m going to pull over so I can take a look at this file. Maybe there’s something here that will tell us what to look for at the station.” He knew it was wishful thinking, but he was hoping there was something inside the file that would clear up the mystery so they didn’t have to venture into the police station at all. Not bloody likely.
“There’s a dirt road up ahead,” she said.
Heavy fog had moved in from the bay, giving the forest that ran along the coastal highway an ethereal appearance. Madrid turned onto a narrow dirt road. He stopped out of sight from the highway and shut down the engine. “Okay, let’s see what we’ve got.”
Jess handed him the file. “There are notes and photographs.”
Turning on the dome light, he opened the file. A smile touched his mouth at the sight of Angela’s neat handwriting. She’d always been meticulous. How ironic that he would appreciate that most after her death.
He read the notes twice, trying to decipher the abbreviations and read between the lines.
“Looks like she was spying on the Lighthouse Point PD,” Jess said.
Madrid read the notes again, his focus lingering on the names. “She seems suspicious of Finks.”
“The officer?”
He flipped to the photographs. They were similar to the one Angela had given Jess. Young women, most of Asian descent, being held against their will. The questions were
where?
and
why?
“I still think we could be dealing with a human smuggling ring,” he said after a moment.
Jess blinked at him. “It’s difficult to believe things like that can happen in the United States.”
“You’d be surprised by what happens in the United States.”