by Dianna Love
Cooper remembered the look on her face when she’d seen Forester naked and bloody. The numbness that had taken over her personality and the cold detachment she’d embraced to shut down her emotions was exactly what he’d told her to do. But it wasn’t good. “She held up pretty well initially. When Navarrette discussed cause of death, bam. It hit her.”
“What did Emilio say to her on the phone?”
Cooper felt his guts draw in. “Told her she was his and because of her betrayal she must be punished.”
“And she challenged him.”
“Yes.” Foolhardy kid. “Val could have killed her right there.”
“He could have killed her at her apartment. At the hotel.”
Dyer didn’t have to remind him. Cooper’s brain now had an endless loop of worst-case scenes in it. There was the one of him stumbling back upstairs to her apartment, thinking about waking her for a continuation of their night, only to find her blood all over the floor, the bed, and the walls. Her vacant eyes staring at him.
Or the one of him seeing a body bag on a gurney leaving the entrance to the hotel. Men in dark jumpsuits loading the body into the coroner’s van.
“Your steaks are going to be crispy,” Eliza called from the kitchen sink. She was cutting up red peppers and onions.
Cooper lifted his chin to acknowledge Eliza’s comment, lowered his voice to Dyer. “How soon until Valquis shows up here?”
Dyer shrugged. “A while. He doesn’t know where you live and the manhunt is so intense right now, he’d be smart to lay low.”
“Why is he helping Emilio? What does he get out of this?”
“Been wondering that myself. If law enforcement thought you were dead, wouldn’t you start over? Build a new empire?”
“Suckerfish.”
Dyer frowned. “What?”
Cooper pointed at his fish tank. “Suckerfish use other fish, like sharks, for food and shelter; sharks use suckerfish to stay clean. It’s symbiosis. Same thing in the world of drug empires.”
“Valquis is a suckerfish – Emilio pays him to terrorize people, which is his dream job. Emilio is the shark who doesn’t want to get his hands dirty.”
“Exactly.” Cooper walked out on the patio. As he stopped at the grill, he watched Celina’s eyes move under their lids, listened to her breathing. Her face was free of makeup. The towel wrapped around her hair had come undone and loose tendrils of brown tumbled around her face and down her neck. Her chest rose and fell, and he remembered her wet body climbing out of his pool, his old swim trunks sticking to her curvy legs, his white tank top melted to her breasts. He’d watched her dry the water off her legs and grown so hard he could have drilled holes in the kitchen tile. He’d gone to the fish tank and fed the fish to hide his obvious reaction.
Looking down, he suddenly realized he was growing hard again. Turning away from Dyer’s ever-watchful gaze, Cooper made a lot of work out of taking up the steaks, checking the potatoes, dousing the flames. Fat drops of rain fell and he walked over to Celina and woke her.
Groggily she gathered up her blanket and followed him into the house. The smell of the steaks and the baked potatoes was strong. She sniffed and sighed deeply. “Smells good,” she said before disappearing down the hall to the bedroom.
Cooper felt like whistling. A ridiculous reaction but there it was. When he looked up from unloading the potatoes on the four separate plates, Eliza was smiling at him. That pained smile she always got when she wanted to discuss his past life. “She knows, Cooper, honey. About Owen. And Melinda.” At Cooper’s blank stare, she added, “She saw the photo in your bedroom.”
Cooper mentally kicked himself. He’d forgotten about the photo. Forgotten in a small way about his past. He set the steaks on the table, went to the counter, and poured Celina a glass of pinot noir. Took it to her place and set it there for her. He should go talk to her right now. Some part of him told him that.
But the steaks were already overdone, and Dyer and Eliza were there, and just like the other night, the timing was all wrong. “Let’s eat.” He pulled out a chair for Celina as she entered the room.
She accepted it without looking at him. As he sat at the other end, she kept her eyes on the table. Made polite small talk as Eliza forced conversation and cut Celina’s steak for her. She ate awkwardly, but refused help with anything else, and complimented Cooper’s cooking. She barely sipped at the wine.
Eliza shot looks at Cooper. Dyer, good man that he was, brought up photography, asking Celina’s advice on a long-range lens for his new Canon Rebel digital camera. The hundred-mile stare left Celina’s face, her eyes met Dyer’s as she asked about the kind of shots he wanted to take. She sipped more wine, nodded her head, offered to take him shopping after their current situation was over.
“Why didn’t you become a professional photographer, Celina?” Eliza asked. “Why did you become an FBI agent?”
Celina looked down at her plate, suddenly self-conscious, a small smile passing across her lips. “As a child, I wanted to be a painter like my aunt Colette. She painted oil portraits of children and they were so perfect, so lifelike. I wanted to do that.” Celina chuckled softly, glanced around the table at them. “But my paintings were awful. Truly awful. Everyone else in my family, my mother, my brothers, all of them, could draw or paint or write. Even sing. But me? Nothing. Not a creative bone in my body. My brother John used to tell me I’d been left on the doorstep of the church and our parents adopted me. That I wasn’t really part of the family.”
“We told my little brother Austin a similar story.” Dyer had an evil gleam in his eye. “Carl and I always told him we found him in the woods behind our house and Mom said we could keep him for a pet.”
Celina smiled. “My brothers would like you.”
Dyer held up his wine glass to her. “My brothers would like you too.”
Eliza punched his arm and they all laughed.
“For my ninth birthday,” Celina continued, “my grandmother Colette gave me a camera, and it was like opening the door to another world. I became fascinated with butterfly wings and antennas. The backs of children’s hands. These micro-worlds that existed all around me. I could see pictures inside of pictures. Tiny stories that went with these tiny worlds. It was…” She shook her head, shrugged one shoulder, “all I wanted to do.”
Cooper had stopped eating to listen to her. He’d never thought about Celina as a young girl. About her family. He’d thought her photography was interesting and he knew she was selling some of it through legitimate sources, but he’d never wondered why she’d chosen the FBI over her obvious passion. “So why’d you end up at the Academy?”
She looked at him, that small smile still in place. She was tired and scared and uncertain. Scared of Emilio and Valquis. Uncertain of her place in his house, but she was covering it all remarkably well. “My parents have a strong work and moral ethic. They believe in giving back to the community as well as pushing yourself to excel in your chosen field. My brother, Matt, is a cardiac specialist in Seattle. Mark is a public defender in Bakersfield. Luke’s a marine biologist. Johnny, well, he’s kind of the black sheep of the family. He writes graphic novels and illustrates them himself, but he sits on a board for a local children’s hospital so Mom and Pop cut him slack for that. When it came to me,” another shrug, “neither Mom nor Pop believed I could make a decent living off photography. My only other interest was being a cop, but I didn’t want to work the streets. I saw a lot of bad stuff with cops growing up in Miami. I didn’t want that, didn’t want to be the one harassing people I knew, arresting people I grew up with. The FBI on the other hand seemed cool. I talked to a recruiter at school and she steered me in this direction.”
“You have four brothers named Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John,” Eliza said, eyebrows raised.
Celina laughed. “Yes, we’re Catholic. Mom hoped for a full dozen.”
“Why’d she name you Celina?” Dyer asked. “That’s not biblical, is it?”
“My name is Celina Colette Maria Davenport. I’m named after both my Cuban grandmother, Celina, and my American grandmother, whose family is from Britain and Wales. Maria is, of course, in reference to the Virgin.”
“Davenport sounds English,” Eliza said.
Celina nodded. “My grandfather Davenport is English and Irish. My brothers, Matt and Mark are Irish twins.” When everyone looked quizzical, Celina elaborated. “They were born in the same year. Matt was born in January. Mark, ten months later.”
Eliza and Dyer laughed. Eliza said, “But you were the end of the line for your mother?”
“The four boys were quite a handful. Even before she had me, I think she’d given up wanting a dozen.”
“I don’t blame her,” Eliza said, “and I can see why you’re good at taking care of yourself. Having four older brothers makes you pretty tough, huh?”
Celina’s smile faded and her hands went into her lap. “Tough enough,” she said quietly.
Chapter Twenty-eight
While Cooper was in the shower, Celina moved her bags into the living room, fluffed the pillows on the couch and sat down to wait. She flipped channels on the TV and turned it off when not even a rerun of CSI kept her mind off Cooper standing naked under running water.
Bobby was still in the house, having sent Eliza home and declaring he would take first watch so Cooper could sleep, but he’d disappeared down the hall, holing up in the computer room. Celina knew he was giving her and Cooper space so they could talk.
She was going to talk to Cooper. She’d been thinking about what to say ever since she saw the picture of Owen. Cooper’s son put a new perspective on things. He was Cooper’s only real responsibility. And so Celina had her speech ready—the one about leaving so she wouldn’t endanger Cooper—but when he emerged from the bathroom and sauntered into the living room in nothing but a pair of board shorts, his wet hair combed back, and the stubble still on his face, her breath caught in her chest and the words in her brain got all mixed up.
He took in her bags on the floor, her bug-eyed expression. “What’s up?”
“I, uh.” She closed her eyes, shook her head to clear it. “You take the bed. I’ll sleep in here.”
“It’s no problem.”
“I’ve had several naps today. I’m wound for sound.” Standing up, she smoothed her shirt with her left hand. “I’m going to hang out with Bobby for a while. If I get tired, I’ll crash on the couch.”
He was too much of a gentleman to let her sleep on his couch. “Celina.”
“Cooper,” Celina mimicked his tone. “Take the damn bed.”
She brushed by him, hoping fervently he would reach out and grab her, pull her into his bedroom and make wild, passionate love to her, but when he didn’t, she went to find Bobby.
In the back room, Dyer was studying the security monitors. He glanced up at her when she entered, saw the look on her face, and went back to the monitors. “Tough day.”
Celina flopped into a chair next to him. “The day from hell.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“No. Yes.” She shook her head, rubbed her temples with her fingers. Blew out a long sigh. “I can’t stay here.”
He was silent, frowning at the screens in front of him. “And your other option is?”
“I know, I know. I’ve got nowhere to go. Anywhere I land, I endanger other people, but that’s the reason I can’t stay here either. Cooper’s got a kid. I mean…oh, hell.” She leaned forward and dropped her head between her knees. “If he gets killed or injured because of me…”
She drew a deep breath, let it out slowly, “I can’t live with that, Bobby. I can’t.”
“Hey, hey.” He rubbed her back. “Nothing’s gonna happen to Coop.”
Celina set her head in her hands. “You can’t say that. Sugars and Forester are dead because of me. Cooper’s next if I stay here. Your life’s in danger, too. Even Eliza.”
“First of all, we’re a team. We know how Londano and Valquis work. We’ve lived and breathed them for years. They can’t surprise us like they did Forester and his agents. Second, we’re a team. Do you hear me? We cover each other’s backs. Take care of each other 24/7. And third…” he trailed off, lifted his eyebrows for her to finish his sentence.
“We’re a team.”
“Exactly.” He gently pinched her chin. “No one’s gonna break us up. We’re exponentially stronger and smarter if we’re united. We stay together, work together, sleep together on occasion.” He waggled his eyebrows.
Celina couldn’t help but smile at his teasing. “It’s too dangerous for all of you. I can’t be part of the team this time.”
“And, again, your option is?”
“I have to take down Emilio on my own.”
He straightened, cracked his knuckles. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Celina, but you’re not capable of taking on Londano or Valquis on your own.”
How can I not take that the wrong way?
“It’s not because you’re a woman or because your field experience amounts to a hill of beans. None of us, not one single member of the SCVC taskforce, no matter how intelligent or tough or experienced, is capable of taking on these two alone. The only way—are you listening?—the only way to succeed at taking them out, is if we work together. One united front.”
“But Emilio only wants me. If I turn myself over, he’ll stop killing the people around me. Then I’ll figure out how to stop him.”
“You can’t be serious. You think Londano won’t brutalize you? Kill you?”
“Not if I kill him first.”
“What about Valquis? You gonna kill him too?”
“How else do I stop them?”
Bobby slumped in his chair. “You’re serious.”
Celina nodded.
“You’ll die, and in the end, Val and Londano will still come after Cooper.”
She didn’t follow. “Why?”
“He’s head of the SCVC. He’s given them a lot of trouble over the years. Coop and I talked this over. The night Val did this to me,” he tapped the arm of his wheelchair, “he was sending Cooper a message.”
A message. Like he’d sent her via Forester’s body? “What kind of message?”
“Cooper messed with Londano’s empire, pissed him off one too many times. So instead of going after Cooper directly, he sent Val after me. He knew that would do more damage to Coop’s mental and emotional state than anything else.”
“Like he’s doing with me right now.” Celina shifted, rubbed her temples again. “It’s payback.”
“Londano’s keeping you totally freaked out and off balance.” He checked the security screens. “If you walk out of here and Valquis grabs you, what do you think that will do to Cooper?”
Celina sat for a long moment, knowing exactly what it would do to Cooper. “But he’s got a kid,” she said, picking at the brace on her wrist. “That’s his only real responsibility. Not me.”
The two friends sat in silence, staring at the black and white images on the screens in front of them. Bobby turned his chair to face her. “You have to stay with Cooper, Celina. He’s your only chance to walk away from this alive.”
She thought about that, figured it was true. “You could keep me safe.”
A disgruntled half-laugh escaped his lips. “Have you looked at me? In case you didn’t notice, I’m in a fucking wheelchair, rookie.”
“Oh, god,” Celina said, putting her hand over her mouth. “I forgot.”
Bobby’s face took on a look of confused bemusement. “You forgot I’m stuck in this contraption?”
Celina put her head down. “That was rude. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
“Don’t be sorry. That’s the first time anyone’s forgotten. It’s actually nice.”
Celina leaned over and hugged him. “Why did they get divorced?” she asked.
He didn’t miss a beat at the change in subject. “Typical reason. Cooper worked a lot of long hours. Lots o
f holidays. Melinda was lonely. She got pregnant thinking that might turn Cooper into a homebody. It didn’t. Don’t get me wrong, Owen changed a lot of things for Cooper. He worked smarter, landed the taskforce unit’s head position in order to keep him off the streets as much as possible while still being involved in drug enforcement. But he and Melinda, well, they fought a lot. She finally gave up. Divorced him.”
“Is that why he doesn’t want to get involved with me?”
“Cooper was nuts over Melinda when they got hitched. He was also twenty-four years old. Too young to know what he really wanted.”
Twenty-four. The same age as her when she joined the taskforce. “And?”
“He knows how things change, how love can start out wild and passionate and get overcome by other stuff and go bad.”
“That can happen at any age. Love is risky.”
“That’s true,” he said, pointedly sizing her up. “So what are you going to do about it?”
What was she going to do about it? “I figure I have two options.” She closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair. “I can go put on my Victoria’s Secret lace peek-a-boo teddy, jump in bed with him, and hope the sex is mind blowing enough that he keeps me around until he realizes he can’t live without me, or I can leave now and save face.” She opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling. “Try to forget about him.”
“Do you really have a Vicki’s peek-a-boo teddy with you?”
Celina rolled her eyes. “What happened with him and Lana?”
Bobby’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you ask?”
It was his tone that confirmed her suspicions. “Ah ha,” Celina said. “I knew there was something going on between them.”
“Trust me, there is nothing going on between Coop and Lana.”
“But there was once, wasn’t there?”
When he looked away, Celina sat forward. “What happened? Tell me.”
“I can’t. I’m sworn to secrecy.”
“Did he sleep with her?”
“Oh, hell no.” He affected a false shiver and made a disgusted noise like he’d drunk sour milk. “That’s sick.”