“Go to college first.”
He shrugged. “Weren’t you in the military?”
“No. I wouldn’t have survived. I have some issues with authority.” Sean grinned at him again. “But if you want, go the college route, become an officer. I definitely did better in college than I would the military.”
“Was Kane an officer?”
“No, he enlisted right out of high school. But Kane wanted to be a Marine his entire life. My dad was a Marine. It was in their blood. Not as much in mine.”
“I wish I knew about my other family. You, Kane, my other grandparents.”
“I wish you could have met them. My parents were inventors. They created some of the neatest toys for the military—security, safety gear, one of the first computerized night-vision googles. Just know one thing: Whatever you want to do, you will do it. Of that I’m certain. Just give yourself these few years to grow up and figure out what you want.”
He tilted his chin up defiantly. “I’m leaving the program when I’m eighteen.”
“That will be your choice. But I need to know—to trust you—that you’ll stick with it for the next five and a half years. I just got you into my life, Jesse—I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want you dead. Okay?”
Jesse took a deep breath. “Okay.” He then hugged Sean tightly. “I love you, Dad.”
CHAPTER NINE
Kane Rogan was beginning to lose his edge.
It wasn’t just the injuries he’d sustained in May when he lost a kidney and nearly died. He could survive with one kidney, and he hadn’t slacked on his physical therapy and training.
He continued hammering at the house that would one day belong to Marisol and her sister and their babies. The Honeycutt family had found the injured Marisol hiding in their barn and ever since had helped her and the other girls. The Honeycutts were good people, the salt-of-the-earth type that Kane respected. Kane was helping them convert an old bunkhouse into an inhabitable residence. He liked having something to do with his hands. But his brain wouldn’t shut off.
It was Siobhan Walsh who was distracting him. The sexy, compassionate, infuriating Irish redhead who would not leave him alone. When she wasn’t around, he dreamed of her. When she was around, she looked at him like a siren and he wanted to take her to bed. Worse, she was staying in Texas working on locating the infants sold on the black market, so he couldn’t very well tell her to leave. He’d been doing everything in his power to help, not just because it was the right thing to do but also because the sooner they located every one of those seventy-two babies, the sooner Siobhan could go back to her former life and get out of his world.
He didn’t know how much longer he could resist her.
“I love you.”
Why had she said that? She couldn’t possibly love him. She just thought she did. He’d saved her gorgeous ass and she equated that with something else, something more, something that wasn’t there. But he wasn’t going to ruin her life by bringing her into his. And though he was tired sometimes, he wasn’t going to give up his job. He would die on the job. He’d always planned on it. He was surprised it hadn’t already happened.
He should have killed Angelo Zapelli.
Ever since he left Zapelli alive in the barn three days ago, Kane had had the distinct feeling he’d made a mistake. He’d allowed his emotions—in this case, his unwanted feelings for Siobhan Walsh—to impact a tactical decision. Zapelli was a weak, sniveling bastard, but when he cleaned himself up he’d forget Kane had nearly killed him. The threat he’d made against Lucy deeply bothered Kane.
He’d have to talk to Lucy and his brother about it. He also contacted his friend FBI Assistant Director Rick Stockton to confirm that Zapelli was on the Do Not Fly list.
But getting into the States from Mexico was a piece of cake for criminals. He didn’t need to fly. Rick assured Kane that if Zapelli was spotted in the States he’d be arrested on sight—a minor consolation.
Kane put in several hours of labor—alone, just the way he liked it—and wondered where Siobhan was. He didn’t want to ask. He kicked back under a tree when he needed a reprieve from the mid-afternoon heat. He drank a quart of icy water and closed his eyes.
Admit it, you just want to see her.
Sure, he wanted to see her. He wanted to find out how she was doing with her articles and interviews, about the charity she had started to help the former sex trafficking victims get back on their feet, ask her how long she was going to stay in Texas. Because he was thinking he should return to Hidalgo until she left. Every time he saw her he got all twisted up inside and made stupid decisions.
Like not killing Angelo Zapelli.
Kane was still beat from his trip to Monterrey. He wasn’t getting younger, and the hard life he’d led for twenty-some years was catching up to him. At least, that’s what he attributed to falling asleep. He only knew he’d fallen asleep because of his erotic dream about Siobhan. An odd noise woke him instantly.
He didn’t know immediately what the sound was, but he always trusted his instincts. He was immediately awake, hand on his gun, and listened as he surveyed the area. The half-finished bunkhouse. The tools to the side. He couldn’t see the Honeycutts’ place from here; it was about half a mile down the road.
“Mr. Kane?”
Marisol.
He rose from his spot and said, “Over here.” She stepped into view. Her eyes darted right then left. “What’s wrong?”
She stared at him with large hazel eyes and handed him a piece of paper. Her hand was shaking.
He opened it.
I know where you live.
A
“I—I thought…” Marisol didn’t finish her sentence. Kane knew exactly what she’d thought—that Kane had killed Zapelli.
“Where did you get this?”
“At the house.”
“Here?”
She shook her head. “The group house, in town. This morning, it was in the mailbox.”
“I’ll call in some people, have them sit on the place for a couple days.”
He should have killed him.
“Where’s Siobhan?” Kane asked.
“San Antonio, staying with Miz Lucy. She is, um, she said riding along? I don’t know what that means.”
“Good.” If Siobhan was with Lucy, she’d be safe. Kane would make sure she stayed there for a couple extra days, until he could track down Angelo and do what he should have done in the first place.
This was the last time he was ever letting his emotions interfere with his job.
“Um, this isn’t his writing,” Marisol said. “But he wanted it sent to me, yes?”
Kane nodded. “He wants to scare you. I’ll talk to George Honeycutt, Villines, make sure they’re aware.”
Assistant Sheriff Adam Villines was the Honeycutts’ son-in-law and had been involved in the rescue of the women. He was as good a cop as Kane had met, one of the few he trusted. Villines would put his deputies on the house for as long as necessary.
Marisol said, “Thank you.”
“How is Ana?” Marisol’s younger sister was pregnant with twins. She’d been seriously injured during the rescue and gone into premature labor, which the hospital managed to stop. Her leg had been crushed and she would never walk without a limp, but she had survived a horrific ordeal.
“Bed rest. The doctors want her to rest one more week, to make it safer for the babies. But they’re thirty-five weeks, and both three pounds, the doctor says. They would survive. We just want them bigger, healthier, for their lungs.”
“You and Ana are strong, your babies will be just like you. And Elizabeth?”
Marisol beamed, thinking about her infant daughter, but tears were in her eyes. “A miracle. A miracle. Miz Honeycutt is watching her. What would I have done without them?”
“You would have survived. You’re a survivor, Marisol. Never forget that.”
He waited until Marisol left, then called Siobhan.
“Hello,”
she said.
His heart pounded. He didn’t want these feelings for Siobhan. He didn’t want to worry about her. “I should have killed him. He sent a note to Marisol at the group home.”
Siobhan was silent. Damn, why did he have to be so gruff?
“Kane—”
“Stay with Lucy. Just a couple extra days in San Antonio, until I get this mess straightened out.”
“Don’t order me around like I’m one of your soldiers.”
“It wasn’t an order.”
“Sure sounded like one.”
“Don’t start with me, Siobhan. I need to take precautions here, set up additional security, until I know if the threat was just Zapelli blowing smoke or if he has some muscle. If I have to worry about you, I can’t do my job.”
“You never have to worry about me, Kane. I told you that.”
“I worry.”
“You’re impossible.”
“So are you, sweetheart.” He hung up before he said something he regretted.
He called Ranger, one of his most trusted men, filled him in on the situation, and Ranger said he would take care of things, including verifying that Angelo Zapelli was still in Monterrey. Kane had a feeling the threat was hollow, but he couldn’t count on it.
Kane showered in the bunkhouse—there was running water, though no hot-water heater yet. The lukewarm well water sufficed. He wrapped a towel around his waist and noticed the message symbol on his cell phone. He glanced through the calls. Most of them could be taken care of later, but one number had a DC area code he didn’t recognize. He listened to the message.
I need to talk to you about your sister ASAP.
Kane’s blood froze. His sister? What was his sister up to and why would a fed be calling about her?
Kane almost called Rick Stockton first—Noah Armstrong worked directly for him—but he needed more information about what Eden was doing.
He’d met Noah briefly last month when they turned over Carson Spade to the authorities, and learned he was friends with Lucy. If Kane’s soon-to-be sister-in-law trusted Noah like Rick did, he couldn’t be a bad guy, but Kane didn’t trust easily.
Noah answered immediately. “Armstrong.”
“Kane Rogan.”
“Thank you for returning my call. I wouldn’t have bothered you except that Sean is out of town and I wasn’t able to reach him.”
“You mentioned my sister.”
“This is awkward for me—but I didn’t know who else to call. Eden is in San Antonio. She showed up at Lucy’s house this morning—after Sean left for his business trip, or whatever he’s doing. She wasn’t expected but talked herself into the house and is staying overnight.”
A rush of emotions rolled over Kane. Anger. Fear. Confusion. Suspicion. Foreign emotions, because he usually controlled his feelings so extremely well. It took him a moment to put his thoughts together.
Noah spoke again. “When Sean and I worked together last year I told him I had butted heads with Liam. That’s true. But … I have a history with Eden. I know they are both thieves. I’m aware that you cut them out of RCK, and I haven’t spoken to her in over six years. But I’m going to tell you this—and I’m sure you know this is the truth—if Eden is here, so is Liam. And there is no way they are in San Antonio simply for Sean’s wedding. They’re up to something, and I swear, I will bring down the wrath of the entire Department of Justice on them.”
Noah was right—Liam and Eden always had ulterior motives. But why Sean? And why now?
Kane froze. How did Liam find out about the bonds? “I know why they’re here.”
“Is it a problem?”
Damn straight it was a problem, especially if Sean was out of town. Eden was the queen of manipulation. Kane would have to give Lucy a quick and dirty lesson in all things Eden and Liam, and that would not be a fun conversation.
“Rogan—I need to know what’s going on.”
Kane had to secure the group home first—Zapelli had made a direct threat, and Kane couldn’t leave those girls unprotected. Ranger was two hours out—Villines was closer, but Kane would have to touch base with him, ensure he understood the danger.
“Dammit, talk to me, Rogan! Are you still there?”
“Yes. I’m in Laredo and I’ll be there as soon as I can, but I have a situation I have to take care of first. I need you to get Eden out of the house.”
“But you know why they’re here.”
“Sean has something they want.”
“Oh, that’s rich.”
“Excuse me?”
“A leopard doesn’t change his spots.”
“I’ll be blunt with you, because I know you have issues with Sean. Sean doesn’t know the value of what he has. I had him secure six million dollars in bearer bonds that we used as bait when we rescued Jesse last month. There was no easy way to return them to RCK at the time. Jack is going to retrieve them after the wedding. Liam wants them.”
“How the hell does he know Sean has them?”
“I don’t know.” That was a lie. There was only one way that Liam could have learned that Sean had those bonds, and Kane was going to plug that leak personally. But first things first. “Under no circumstances can Eden and Liam get those bonds. I’m not going to explain anything more, because I don’t know you. Rick trusts you, but that only goes so far with me. Get to Sean’s house and don’t leave Lucy alone with Eden.”
“I thought you said she wouldn’t hurt her.”
“I said she wasn’t violent. But they’ll do anything, short of murder, to get those bonds.”
“I want a better explanation, Kane.”
“I don’t have time right now—”
“I need information. Lucy is in Austin following up on the black-market baby case with Agent Quiroz. I assume you’ve already run background on all my agents.”
“Of course,” Kane said. “If Lucy’s in Austin, she’ll be busy. Get over to her house and keep your eyes on Eden. Do not let her out of your sight. Trust no one.”
“Really, Kane—”
“I mean it. We have a leak at RCK. The only people I trust right now other than Lucy are Sean, JT, and Rick. Rick trusts you, so you’re on the short list. I’ll get JT to clear everyone else until we figure out who the mole is, but until I know how Liam and Eden found out that Sean had those bonds no one is to know anything that I don’t want them to know.” He paused. “If you need local backup, call in Dunning.”
“Do not tell me who I can and cannot call.”
“Dunning is a trained soldier. Armstrong, I don’t have time for this bullshit. Sit on Eden until I get there.” He hung up. He hoped Rick was right, that Armstrong was solid, because Kane was beginning not to like him very much.
Kane next tried Sean’s number. Direct to voice mail.
“Sean, it’s Kane. Eden is at your house, Lucy does not know what she’s up against. Get home as soon as you can. They want the bonds. Under no circumstances can they have them.”
He slammed shut his phone. He needed to get Sean a hot phone, one he always picked up, because these messages were getting tiresome. When Kane called, it was always critical.
But Lucy was always dependable. If she couldn’t talk, she’d simply say so. He called her.
Her cell phone rang five times, then her voice mail picked up.
Lucy always answered her phone. He’d come to depend on it.
“It’s Kane. Call me back.”
He pocketed his phone. Wait—he’d just spoken to Siobhan thirty minutes ago. He dialed her number.
Voice mail.
Either she was still angry with him or something was wrong.
Shit, shit, shit!
He called JT on his hotline. That’s what JT called it—he, Rick, and Kane all had a special phone. No matter what, they answered. No one else had the numbers. They rarely used it.
“What’s wrong?” JT asked.
“Eden is at Sean’s. Sean is AWOL. Don’t know where he is or what he’s doing. I can’t
reach Lucy.”
“Get up there.”
“I’m working on it. I need to know how much to trust Armstrong.”
“Rick trusts him.”
“That doesn’t tell me shit.”
“He’s law-and-order but has been known to bend rules.”
“Bend.”
“Yes.”
“Okay. I have to secure Laredo before I can go to San Antonio.”
“You didn’t bury him.”
“I should have.”
“You did the right thing.”
“It sure as hell won’t be the right thing if anyone dies because he lived.”
“How?”
Kane knew exactly what JT was thinking, and it wasn’t about Zapelli.
“Dante Romero.”
“Aw shit, Kane! I thought he wanted Liam dead.”
“That’s what he wanted us to believe. But Dante didn’t know that Sean had the bonds. He just knew that we had them. RCK.”
JT didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to. He knew exactly what Kane meant.
Someone in RCK headquarters was working for Dante, and by extension—if Kane was right that Dante and Liam’s split was all a setup—someone at RCK was working for Liam. Someone they trusted had betrayed them.
“I’m on it,” JT said, his voice low and angry. “Stop them.”
CHAPTER TEN
Jasmine Flores picked up the ringing cell phone, ready to throw it against the wall. Her entire world was crashing down, she was losing control, and people still wanted things from her.
Calm down. You’re in charge of the family now. It’s what you always wanted.
She didn’t want it because three of her four brothers were dead. She wanted it because she had earned it.
She supposed that survival had, in a way, earned her the spot as head of family.
She answered, “Yes.”
“Jasmine?”
“Who’s this?”
“Thomas Morrison. We have a big fucking problem, and you need to fix it.”
Morrison … Morrison. Well, shit. What the hell does he want?
“Not my problem,” she said.
“The fucking newspaper! The fucking New York Times has been running articles about your fucked operation. They’re looking for the babies. They came knocking at my door!”
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