Caballo Security Box Set

by Camilla Blake

  I would never forgive my father.

  I studied James, remembering all the nights I’d sat up in my mother’s room, worried that she would die while I slept, afraid I wouldn’t be there for her in the moment she needed me the most. I couldn’t go through that again.

  I wouldn’t go through that again.

  ***

  The phone ringing woke me with a start. I nearly fell out of the chair I’d dragged into the bedroom from the teeny dining room.

  “Lucas,” I muttered into the phone.

  “Hey, Max. It’s Cheryl. I just sent some information to your email.”

  “Yeah?”

  “We found a bit on that pic you sent during the night. Real piece of work. Turns out he’s part of a prominent family in Bahrain. Really wealthy guy with too much time on his hands—one of those things.”

  “All right. Thanks.”

  “Sure. We’ll keep working on the other pics you sent. I’ll let you know if anything comes up.”

  I disconnected the call and glanced at James. She was watching me with a slight frown on her pretty face.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Making sure you didn’t stop breathing during the night.”

  She lifted her hand to push away the thought, but then winced as the movement forced her to move her head. I tossed a bottle of water that I’d gotten earlier in the night at her. She winced again as it hit her square on the shoulder.

  “You need to hydrate. You threw up most of your body weight last night.”

  “I did?”

  I nodded as I slowly got up. “I cleaned it up—you’re welcome. I’m going to my apartment. Don’t bother me for the rest of the day, huh?”

  “Max?”

  I didn’t stop gathering my things to look at her. I didn’t really want to see her face right now.

  “I don’t know what happened last night.”

  There was fear in her voice. It ate at the anger that was burning in my chest, keeping me on track. Keeping me from running down a road I didn’t want to go down.

  “You let them put GHB in your drink. And then you were stupid enough to gulp it down.”

  “GHB?”

  “Yeah—you know, the rape drug?” I crossed the room, my computer and cell phone in my hands. “You’re damn lucky you were right about them wanting to keep the merchandise pure. If not for that, this story would have ended much differently than it has.”

  “What did I do?”

  I just shook my head, pushing aside the dresses hanging in her closet as I pushed open the false door in the back. “You threw up in the shower. I’d step gingerly if I were you. I’m not sure I got all the chunks.”

  “Max? Thank you!”

  I kept going, slamming the closet door behind me. I leaned against the wall, the sound of her voice reverberating in my head.

  I didn’t want to care. I didn’t want to get mixed up with a girl who couldn’t keep her shit together. Hell, I didn’t want to get mixed up with a girl who could keep her shit together. She might be healthy now, might be strong and independent, but so was my mother once upon a time. I couldn’t get involved with anyone who might get sick and die someday. I just… I’d done it once already. I wasn’t doing it again.

  But the sound of her fear…

  Nope! Not me. Let someone else give a damn shit about her throwing up everywhere!

  Chapter 8

  James

  I found him cooking.

  I didn’t know Max knew how to cook.

  “I got a call from Skylar. She says you called Ox and suggested that someone else come in and run this case with me.”

  “I’m sure she also told you that he refused.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  He refused to look at me as he moved around the kitchen, chopping vegetables for a moment, then stirring an incredible-smelling brew on the stove. He returned to the vegetables, finishing mincing an onion with impressive skill before he carried the entire cutting board to the stove and dumped the sliced vegetables into a hot skillet. The sound of the cool, moist vegetables hitting the hot oil rose, a sort of hissing sound that instantly smelled of hot onion and something almost sweet. The peppers, I thought.

  “I know I screwed up the other night.”

  “You nearly blew the entire operation for the second time.” He did glance at me then, but only for a quick second. “You could have gotten yourself raped, or worse. What was I supposed to do? Sit outside and watch?”

  “You did exactly what you were supposed to do. You trusted me.” I ran my hand over the top of my head. “I don’t remember everything from Saturday night, but I remember your voice in my ear. You kept me focused.”

  He didn’t respond. Instead, he busied himself washing up the knife and cutting board he’d just used, taking a moment to squeeze lemon on his hands to clean them of the scent of the onions.

  “It’s been two days. How long are you going to ignore me?”

  He shook his head. “I’m not ignoring you. I just don’t feel like we have to spend every second together in order for this case to come to a successful conclusion.” He paused a moment in his movements, tossing a glance over his shoulder at me. “Besides, Friday night you were begging me to get lost. Which do you want, James? You want me around, or you want me to disappear? You can’t have it both ways.”

  “Friday night you weren’t calling Ox, asking him to take you off the case.”

  He slid the cutting board back onto its nail on the wall and set the knife on the counter, turning his attention to the vegetables sautéing on the stove. I watched the muscles move and shift in his shoulders, his upper arm, as he worked a spatula through the concoction. He worked quietly for several minutes, waiting for the vegetables to get the color he wanted, then he lifted the other pot and poured a thick, red sauce over the vegetables. Then he turned down the heat, gave the whole thing a little stir, then covered it with a heavy glass lid.

  Left with nothing to do but to watch the concoction bubble, he turned and leaned against the counter, his dark eyes moving slowly over me. “What do you want me to say, James?”

  “Do you not trust me anymore?” The idea really bothered me. Despite the fact that we didn’t get along, we worked well together. We’d been on other cases together that had come to successful conclusions. We’d just never done a case that involved this much together time. Yet, I didn’t like the idea that he might feel that I’d messed up and he couldn’t trust me to finish the job.

  “It’s not about trust. It’s about you being reckless, putting yourself in a dangerous position. They fucking drugged you!”

  “I know.”

  “You could have gotten really sick—do you know that? Do you realize what GHB does to the body?”

  “I do now.”

  He shook his head, pushing away from the counter to search through a cupboard behind him. He pulled out a package of pasta and tossed it onto the counter, then took a large pot from another cupboard.

  “Is this because you’re worried about me, or because you’re worried about the case?”

  “I’m frustrated is what it is. First you come on to that guy, making him think he had a chance. Then you put yourself in a position where he could drug you.”

  “How was I supposed to know that bartender would spike my drink?”

  “You were at a rave, James.” He turned, tossing a dark look at me. “What do you think happens at those things?”

  “I got through it.”

  “Barely! If that prick in the Italian suit hadn’t interrupted, you would be telling a very different story right now.”

  My memory still had holes in it. I didn’t remember a man in an Italian suit. I ran my hand over the top of my head again, struggling with the fact that someone had taken my memories from me with a stupid drug I never asked for and didn’t want. The idea that I’d been out of control, even if it was brief, scared the shit out of me. I’d been out of control for months after I came back from my
last tour of duty. I swore to myself I wouldn’t do it again.

  I couldn’t do it again.

  “I screwed up. I get it. But these are sex traffickers and you told me to go in there all sexy and pouty, to flirt with everyone!”

  “I didn’t tell you to make out with some creep!”

  His face darkened a little, a storm dancing over it. He stared at me for a long moment, then snatched up the heavy pot and took it to the sink, making a loud show of filling it with water.

  “I’m doing my job,” I said, keeping my voice low and steady. “The drug wasn’t something I anticipated, but I knew what I was doing with that guy. He’s just a lower-rung guy there to check out the girls. I was just giving him what he expected.”

  “You think he expected you to make out with him? To promise him a roll in some bed somewhere? Do you remember him taking you into that storage room and practically stripping you naked against the wall?”

  I blushed. Hard. His words created an image I didn’t like, making my skin crawl with a need to go shower and scrub myself raw.

  “I don’t remember that.”

  “Yes, well, I’ll never forget it.”

  He dropped the pan full of water on the stove, sloshing some of the liquid over the rim. Water hissed as it touched the hot burner under his sauce, steam rising briefly around him.

  “You couldn’t have seen that much.”

  He glanced at me, the anger so clear on his face that it was almost a separate entity, stuck to his handsome face like a parasite.

  “You know what your little boyfriend and his friends didn’t realize?” he asked, stepping into me, pushing me back against the counter behind me. “The shopping center had a state-of-the-art security system back when it was a Starbucks and a Chipotle and a Torrid. And that system is no longer monitored, but it was still emitting a lovely little frequency that allowed me to hack it. Not only was I watching the camera attached to your chest, but I was watching everything those cameras could see. Lucky for me, there was one right across from the wall where he had you pinned.”

  The blush returned. “I didn’t know that.”

  “They apparently didn’t either.”

  “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

  He shook his head, looking down at me from where he towered so tall above me. “I’m sorry I had to see it, too. I sat there in the SUV, wondering if I should go in there and rescue you. But you assured me you had everything under control. Remember our little discussion on Friday night? But then he mentions the GHB and I’m halfway out of the SUV when the other guy comes in and makes him leave.”

  “I put you in a complicated position.”

  “You put me in an impossible position.” I studied his face a second, a thought blooming in my mind that I wanted to ignore, but couldn’t. He was so close to me… I touched his arm and he didn’t pull away. “You bathed me. You undressed me.”

  “Was I supposed to put you to bed soaking wet?”

  “Were you jealous, Max? When that man touched me?”

  He jerked back like I’d stuck his hand in that pot of hot water. “What an ego!” He shook his head as he glared down at me, the hatred in his expression painful to see. “Do you think every man who ever set eyes on you wants you?”

  “No, I just… I thought…”

  “Quit thinking so hard.”

  He turned away, snatching the lid from his pot and tossing it aside with a crash. “Why don’t you go back to your apartment and leave me to enjoy my dinner?”

  “I just… I want to make this case work. And I need you to trust me if we’re going to do that.”

  “I’ve never failed Ox. I don’t plan on doing it now.”

  “That’s not an answer.”

  “What do you want from me, James?” He tossed the spoon he’d been stirring his sauce with. “I’m doing the best I can here.”

  “So am I!”

  He faced me, his arms crossed over his chest. I’d thought there was a moment between us, but I guessed I’d been wrong. He clearly didn’t want to have anything to do with me.

  “All right. I’ll leave you to it, then.”

  He lowered his head, but his eyes never left mine.

  “Thank you.” I tilted my head slightly. “I appreciate you cleaning me up and putting me to bed. You didn’t have to do that.”

  “You’re my partner.”

  His tone was softer, but there was still that edge of anger there. I just lowered my head in acknowledgement of his words, feeling as though I’d been put in my place, and walked away.

  I didn’t know what I’d done wrong, but it felt different between us. Before, there’d been this banter between us, but it had never been a tense sort of thing. It had always had this underlying sense of fun to it. But this? This was definitely different, and it made me sad.

  I almost felt as if I’d lost a friend.

  Chapter 9

  Cheryl

  “The Meyers case!” Akker called, tossing a file folder at me. “Top priority!”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I stopped to flash him a little salute, but he’d disappeared back into his office before I could get it off. We’d gone from having very little to do to being overrun with cases. My team had research in the queue for ten cases, each one a priority. I walked into my office and tossed the file on the desk. I was busy taking a long drink from my quickly cooling cup of coffee when the phone rang.

  “Not now!” I groaned. But, like the good employee I was, I picked it up, half expecting it to be Akker reiterating how important his case was. “Cheryl O’Donnell. How can I help you?”

  “Isn’t that a lovely greeting?”

  I fell into my chair, a smile surfacing despite the weight of the world that rested on my shoulders. “Garth, my friend! How are you today?”

  “I’m better now that I can hear your voice. A little busy there?”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “You’ve sent half a dozen requests to my office just this morning alone.”

  “Yeah. We’re a little busy around here and my team seems to be shrinking. Emmanuelle quit on Friday.”

  “No kidding? I’m sorry—I know you liked her.”

  “I did. I do. But she’s getting married and moving to Paris, so it wouldn’t have been practical to keep her around.”

  “No, I don’t suppose it would have been.”

  “How are things in Dallas? You guys pretty busy?”

  Garth sighed. “It seems like the fall brings out every bad guy who ever decided to commit a crime in Texas. We’ve been pretty overrun these past few weeks. But you know I always make your stuff a priority.”

  “Yeah? I bet you say that to all the ladies.”

  “But you’re the only one I’m actually telling the truth to.”

  I smiled, imagining this tall, handsome fellow sitting behind a big desk with a huge window behind him, his phone pressed to his ear as he tried to imagine me. Logically, I knew he was probably some young nerd, or a middle-aged doofus more like Rainn Wilson than John Krasinski. But it was a nice fantasy I never planned to confirm one way or the other.

  “What do you have for me today?”

  “Aw, are we cutting it short already?”

  “I have such a pile of work on my desk, and my team has even more that I’ll have to verify too, so, yeah. Sorry. I need to get to work.”

  “All right.” He sighed again, making it seem like a terrible burden to get around to business. “I was looking at these pictures you sent in, these guys you couldn’t identify, and remembered that I just happen to have a friend who works for ICE.”

  “Last week you had a friend with the DEA.”

  “I have a lot of friends.”

  I giggled. “I bet.”

  “I do, seriously. But, anyway, this friend at ICE took the pictures and ran it against their databases and came back with a few hits. First, the blond with the square jaw is Collin McFadden. He’s an Irish citizen who came to the United States ba
ck in 2010. He works for a gentleman named Zaki Ahsan as an accountant, according to ICE records. The other young man, the dark-haired fellow, is Idris Gaber. He is from Bahrain and he also works for Ahsan. He’s here on a work visa that is due to be renewed in three months.”

  I studied the pictures I’d sent him on my computer screen, typing quickly as he spoke. These were suspects in the Porter case that Max and James were working, suspects I’d promised to identify three days ago and was still struggling to find something as simple as a social media presence for them. I hadn’t had much luck thus far, which was why I’d sent the pics to Garth yesterday afternoon. I hadn’t expected him to come back so quickly, but was grateful he had.

  “Do you have anything on the third one?”

  “No. My friend says that if he’s a foreign national, he hasn’t got papers with them. Either he’s here illegally and they haven’t gotten wind of him yet, or he’s an American.”

  “All right. Thanks, Garth.”

  “I’ll keep working on it; see what else I can get for you. But I thought you’d want this update.”

  “I did. I really appreciate it.”

  “Will it win you brownie points with your boss?”

  “No, but it might keep one of our operatives safe.”

  “Well, that’s a win then. I hope they all know how lucky they are to have you around, Cheryl. You’re damn good at your job.”

  “You mean you’re good at my job.”

  “I just give you hints. You do the rest.”

  I smiled softly, loving the flattery this guy liked to offer me. But he couldn’t possibly know what kind of a job I did outside of what we worked on together. He was just a flirt who couldn’t help himself.

  Not that I didn’t enjoy being flirted with.

  “Till next time, Garth.”

  “I’ll be waiting with bated breath!”