Cold Day In Hell

by Jerrie Alexander

  Before getting behind the wheel, he rolled up his sleeves, thinking how Virginia's weather had been crisp and cool, and how different the climate was from the warm fall he and his fellow Texans were experiencing.

  Why he'd refused Kay's request to visit Jake the first time she'd asked was a mystery. Nate never refused her anything, so why should Ty have tried? She hadn't been as sly as she'd thought. Sending him out of the city in an attempt to keep his mind off Ana had failed miserably. Nothing except holding her in his arms would stop the ache that crushed his chest twenty-four fucking hours a day.

  Wasting his time visiting with Jake Donovan hadn't been on his bucket list. The last time he'd laid eyes on Jake, he'd been positive his name was Johnny Darling and hadn't recognized Kay, Nate, Ty or Marcus.

  In less than an hour, he'd report to work and, if pressed, would have to admit her request had been a good idea. The removal of Jake's tumor had impaired his speech, but his memory seemed to be returning, albeit in small chunks. He'd lit up, grinning like a kid the minute Ty had walked into the hospital room. His first questions had been about Holly and, unless Ty was imagining things, Jake was crushing big time.

  He called Marcus, who'd been lucky enough to get an assignment and was searching for a missing boy, and thanked him again for the recommendation of a lake resort. He left out the part that staying out in the boonies had only given him more time to think about Ana, which had left Ty feeling even more alone. He chuckled after he hung up. That crafty bastard probably had known that if Ty had spent time in solitude, his mind would have turned to her.

  What had made him think he could sit all day and wait for a fish to bite? He'd parked his butt in the lawn chair and blamed himself for the vacancy sign hanging from his heart. He'd sat for three days before deciding he had to do something about her. Now if he could figure out what.

  The still, clear water hadn't churned up any answers. Yet he'd stared into its depths for hours. All he'd seen was a stubborn black man who needed to shave his head and his face.

  There had been times late at night he'd have sworn Ana's warm body lay next to him. The air conditioner would kick on, stirring the air, and her scent would infiltrate his senses. He'd doze and feel her small hands stroking his skin. The light of day always proved he'd been dreaming.

  Pathetic—a one-word description of his life.

  The call from Kay just might have saved him from diving into the lake head first.

  He parked in front of the Lost and Found office, gearing up for a barrage of questions. He shoved open the door, and decided he was in no mood to call out his usual, "Honey, I'm home."

  He tossed his keys onto the desk and dropped into his chair.

  "Be there in a second." Kay's chipper voice came from the direction of the break room. The aroma of coffee accompanied her welcoming tone.

  "Good to know," he grunted. He usually got a kick out of her upbeat attitude, but not today. He opened his laptop and moved on to his e-mail, praying for an assignment. Anything to keep his mind off Ana.

  The office was outfitted for people who weren't there often. A side room for private meetings with potential clients, the closet used for a break room, and one open area with gray metal file cabinets separating four desks. Nate and Kay were the owners, but everything was shared after the bills were paid. So far, the venture was paying well.

  Kay stepped into the open. Her eyebrows were pulled together like a pissed-off librarian's. "Aren't we cheery today?"

  She disappeared before he could tell her to mind her own business. He loved her like a sister, but even family should be able to take a hint.

  She breezed into the outer area, carrying two cups of steaming coffee. Studying his face with the gaze of a mother hen, she handed him a cup.

  "Thanks," he said, trying to sound pleasant.

  She pushed her chair toward his desk, the wheels squeaking with each revolution. No way could he be rude to her. Damn, she was so happy in love, she wouldn't take exception to his insults.

  "Where's your other half?"

  "You probably passed him on the way out." She sipped her coffee, studying him over the rim of the cup. "Our missing boy isn't just missing. He's dead. The family is sure they know who killed him. They want us to find the proof."

  "That's tough." Marcus would be upset not to have found the kid alive. "Where's the dog?"

  "With Marcus. He wouldn't leave him, said it was too soon."

  "Why didn't Nate just send me?" He kicked out of his chair, walked past Nate's desk stacked high with folders, and circled the room. Damn it, an assignment would've been just the thing Ty needed to keep his mind busy, and Nate hadn't called.

  "I think you know why."

  Anger churned like a boiling cauldron. "If he thinks I can't cut it, why didn't he stick around and say it to my face? It's not like him to have a woman do his job."

  Kay laughed out loud. The sound of sincere humor burst from her.

  "You are so funny. Was Nate this hard to get along with before he admitted he was in love?"

  "Hell, yes, he..." Ty clamped his teeth closed. "You tricked me."

  "Why are you fighting it?" Her expression turned serious, and her eyes filled with compassion.

  Ty took a sip of the scalding-hot coffee. "I'm not fighting the fact that I love her. That's like telling the sun not to come up. Why waste my breath? It is what it is."

  "Then what's the problem?"

  He closed his eyes. Sometimes doing the right thing was the hardest. Could he do it? Hell. How could he not? Living without Ana was killing him.

  "I resign."

  Kay sat forward. A smile replaced her worried expression. "Well, it's about time."

  "That I quit?"

  "No, that you admitted out loud you're miserable without Ana."

  "How'd you get so smart?"

  "It's the company I keep."

  A rock the size of Dallas lifted off his lungs. He could actually fill them with air. The black cloud in his mind cleared as if he'd emerged from a dark tunnel into the dawning of a new day. He glanced around the room, then his gaze returned and settled on his friend. The euphoria weakened.

  "My heart knows what I have to do. Then my brain reminds me I'll have to leave everything and everyone behind, including my country. This," he waved his hand to indicate her and the outside, "is home. It may sound cliché, but I'm a dyed-in-the-wool Texan. Cut me, and I bleed red, white, and blue American."

  "Nobody would argue your love for your home country."

  "Yet I can't ask her to leave Colombia. She's fighting for hers."

  "Your friends will understand why you went to her. What else is worrying you?"

  "Getting over there and resenting that I gave up my life here. The work we're doing, this company Nate designed to help people, it's important, too. Besides, I made a long-term commitment to him."

  "Who says you have to give up your work with Lost and Found?"

  "That's a daily five-hour flight each way. A bit of a commute, wouldn't you say?"

  "You made a long-term commitment to the military when you signed up, but they didn't expect you to stay in one place. What makes you think you have to work out of here?"

  Ty thought a minute, mulling over her words. "You and Nate have already talked about this, haven't you?"

  "He knew you wouldn't discuss Ana with him." Kay lifted her shoulder, absentmindedly fingering the St. Jude medallion hanging around her neck. "So I sent him to help Marcus."

  "Did you pack for me, too?" His jaw hurt from holding back the smile. Fuck it. He let one slide across his face. Damned if it didn't feel good.

  "Some things you'll have to do yourself." Her bottom lip trembled.

  "You're not going to cry."

  "What can I say? I'm a romantic at heart." She swiped her hands under her eyes. "We don't have staff meetings. Anything we have to talk about can be done over a conference call."

  "It could work." Hope flared. A giant lump formed in his throat.

>   She stood and took his cup out of his hand. "What are you waiting for?"

  Ty stood and hugged her close. What he'd done to deserve friends like her and Nate, hell, he'd never know. But thank God, he had them.

  A thought popped into his mind. "What if she doesn't want me there?"

  "Gee, Tyrell. How could she not?"

  ****

  Ty shifted the weight of his carry-on and checked his watch. Three weeks, four days, and eleven hours ago, he'd begun this trip. During that time he'd sold everything he owned. He'd packed the one bag and left the rest with Nate, who'd ship everything once Ty had an address.

  Standing in the customs line, he read the visitor information sign at El Dorado International Airport. He'd been in and out of this country twice but never legally. He was an outsider. Quite possibly an unwelcome one. If she said no, he'd stick around until he changed her mind.

  The customs officer motioned him forward with a nod. No smile, no welcome to Colombia, the guy took Ty's passport and ran it through the machine. He studied the screen entirely too long.

  "What's the reason for your visit, Senor Castillo?"

  "I'm here for a wedding," Ty answered truthfully.

  "A friend's wedding?"

  "No. My wedding." Ty hit the guard with a big smile and sighed with relief when his passport was returned.

  "Congratulations."

  "I hope so," Ty muttered to himself.

  Nervous as a kid on his first date, he followed the signs to the car rental area and rushed to the lot. It took a few wrong turns, but perseverance paid off, and he finally found the right highway out of town.

  His stomach growled angrily, reminding him he'd failed to eat today. Who could swallow? His future was riding on her forgiving him for being an ass. He could fill a book with the things he should've told her.

  He left the main road and wove his way to Ana's Uncle Rod's house. That area of the country was still green and colorful. The shrubs were lush with flowers. Something Texas wasn't this time of year.

  Why did his roots go so deep? He had no blood relatives left. His mother and sister were buried side by side. Nobody knew what had happened to dear old Dad. Yet, even knowing Ana was at the end of the line, getting on that plane in Dallas had felt as if he'd lost a piece of his soul.

  That was nothing compared to what he was about to face with Ana. Remembering the two armed guards stationed in the loft of the barn, Ty parked away from the house. He stepped out of the car and held both hands over his head, stopping at the hood to wait for further instructions.

  The openings in the loft filled with men aiming rifles at him, and a woman walked out onto the front porch.

  "I'm looking for Ana," Ty called out.

  She studied him for a long moment.

  "Please," he said, putting as much sincerity as he could into one word.

  "You're the American?"

  "Yes, ma'am. Ty Castillo." His skin itched like ants crawling around on him. Nerves had never been a problem for him. Until now.

  The woman wore her hair pulled back in a severe knot. Best he could tell, her hands were covered in flour, as were her tan slacks and black blouse. She walked to the top of the driveway, studied him a minute, and then motioned him to approach.

  Concentrating on keeping his gaze on her and not the two rifles aimed right at him, he dropped his arms to his sides and played his casual card. A big smile and his Texas charm had come in handy in more than one foreign country.

  With a flick of the woman's wrist, the gunmen disappeared faster than they'd moved for Rodrigo. "Come inside."

  Ty followed a safe distance behind so as not to spook the guys watching, because he had no doubt they'd kept an eye on him. Up on the porch and into the familiar house with the warm atmosphere. On the table rested a pile of dough, which explained the flour. She pressed her hands into the lump and started kneading.

  "I'm looking for Pablo and Lina. Will you tell me where they live?" He wished for the impatient words back. He should've gotten acquainted a little before asking questions. This country moved at a different pace than the US. Maybe slower would grow on him.

  "There's no need." She nodded, indicating something behind him. "They are recuperating here."

  He turned to find Lina and Pablo entering from a side room. They looked far different than they had when he and Marcus had left them at the hospital. They were healing, but both would carry scars for the rest of their lives. Ty extended his hand and was relieved when they both reached for him. He found himself pulled into their arms.

  "I'm glad to see you two are mending."

  "It's a slow process," Lina said.

  "I hated to leave you—"

  "You did the right thing," Pablo said. "We are grateful."

  "That's not necessary. Thanks to Ana, we did the right thing."

  "Have you come for our Ana?" Lina's eyes widened. A flash of concern flared in her gaze.

  Ty had to reassure her. "Not to ask her to leave Colombia. I'm here to stay, if she'll have me." Ty squirmed. He hadn't been this nervous in years. Would they welcome the idea of him moving here? Gratitude might only go so far. Would they stand in his way?

  The tension in Lina's face relaxed. She smiled, reached out, and patted Ty's arm. "She mourned for you. It's good you came."

  "We hated to see our Ana so sad." Pablo nodded. "It will be wonderful to see her smile again."

  "You can wait here," the woman working the dough said. "She and my husband drove into town for a meeting with the Minister of Justice." She glanced at the clock on the stove and then cut her eyes toward the door as if expecting them to walk though it at any time. "They should have already returned."

  A cold chill gripped Ty's lungs. "How long have they been gone?"

  "Hours." She folded the dough over, stopped, and looked at Ty. "Are you serious about staying in Colombia with Ana?"

  "As long as she will have me."

  The woman walked to the door and waved. A few minutes later, a man entered the house. Ty recognized him as one of the gunmen from the lofty perch in the barn. He was tall and thin, and his dark eyes and facial bone structure pegged him as Rodrigo's kid. He was somewhere around thirty. His jeans and shirt were clean and fit well. So did the rifle resting in his arms.

  Damn. What had he said to warrant calling in a guard?

  "Mamá?" The man spoke to the woman, but his gaze never left Ty.

  She spoke in Spanish, a language barrier Ty was going to have to get serious about eliminating. The words he could follow let him know she wasn't upset about him showing up. She was worried.

  Ty had to interrupt. "Inglés, por favor."

  "Sorry. This is my son Ángel, and I'm Ana's Aunt Sophia."

  Ty shook both their hands. "You have my word I'll get better at Spanish."

  She lifted an eyebrow but made no comment on his declaration. "I asked my son to ride with you into town. You find Rod and Ana. See what's holding them up."

  Ty ran a hand over his head. His pulse pounded, roaring in his ears. Not again. Please, God. Not again. He would not lose her.

  "Let's go." He rushed out the door, jumped in the car, and before his guide had buckled up, Ty floored the gas pedal. "You can program the directions or just tell me when to turn."

  "Just drive. I'll get you there."

  "You speak English well." Ty swapped lanes, moving around the slower traffic.

  "My mother likes us to use both languages. If you're going to stay, Ana can get you up to speed."

  Ty cut a quick glance at Ángel and saw no resentment. "She's everything to me."

  "I figured."

  They fell silent. Ty couldn't think of any small talk. His mind spun, and his gut churned that Ana could be injured or hurt. What if she needed him and he hadn't been there?

  "There," Ángel shouted, pointing toward the oncoming traffic. "That's our blue pickup."

  Ty spun the wheel to the left, cut across two lanes, and dodged a moving van before kicking the speed up ag
ain. The pickup didn't seem to be in a big hurry, and Ty gained on it quickly.

  "Looks like just the two of them." They exited onto the smaller highway. The same one Ty had driven to Rod's house. Relief loosened the knots between his shoulder blades.

  No way could he wait. He had to know she was okay. He pulled next to the pickup and honked his horn. "Tell your dad to pull over."

  "Here?" Ángel's voice had jumped a full octave higher, but he rolled down his window and motioned his father to the side of the road.

  He risked a glance and caught Ana's eyes. Was that a look of surprise? Excitement? Would she forgive him? This might be his only shot. He had to make her understand. He'd gone all in, and there was no turning back now.

  Ty pulled over and parked behind them. Ana got out and slammed the door. Jesus, she was beautiful and unreadable. The wind whipped her long silky hair across her face and was tossed back over her shoulder. The closer he got to her, the more he sensed her anger.

  "You don't mind riding home with your dad?" he asked Ángel.

  "Not at all. Good luck with her. She's been in a mood."

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Rodrigo and Ángel quickly drove away, leaving Ty and Ana on the side of the road. She couldn't have stopped them if she'd tried, because both men had their eyes on the road in front of them.

  His hands itched to grab her and drag her into his arms. He wanted to kiss her into submission. To hold her tight and never let go, but her expression warned him not to touch.

  "Why have you done this?"

  "What exactly have I done, except show up unannounced on your doorstep?"

  She held her head high, keeping all emotion from showing. It was obvious humor wasn't going to work.

  "You hate this country. Yet you're back. Why?"

  "Right to the point, huh?"

  She was working hard to keep her emotions hidden, but he caught a glimmer, a spark, a flare of recognition in her brown eyes. The same rush of desire he felt whenever she was near had just flickered across her face. Please, let me be right.