by Kara Lennox
Shaking off his black mood, he peeled off his T-shirt and jumped into the pool with a splash big enough to make the women complain about getting their hair wet.
Billy paid just enough attention to the game that he could hit the ball every once in a while and carry his weight. But his gaze continually strayed to Claudia, tracking her movements around the patio as she held the baby, got herself a hot dog and a glass of wine—funny combination—and applied some sunscreen to her pale arms and legs. At one point she took the hat off and fanned herself with it. She looked like a magazine ad.
She was so beautiful. It was just too damn bad he couldn’t be the man she wanted, The One, that sensitive guy who wrote her poetry and watched Lifetime movies and shared his feelings. But that wasn’t him, and it would never be him.
The volleyball game broke up as the players drifted off to find food, drink and other amusements. A gang of teenagers invaded the pool. Billy recognized one kid as Arturo, Ford’s son, but the rest were strangers—probably more Logan Oil family members. Lots of them had been invited to the party. Some of those oil people were rich, good-looking executives who wore suits and drove Beemers.
The kind who would be drawn straight to Claudia. The kind who were probably right for her.
As Billy sat on the edge of the pool, letting the hot sun dry him off a little, he saw Claudia talking to some guy with a crew cut and Brooks Brothers casual clothes.
That fast? She could just flirt with some random guy five minutes after they’d called it quits? Was he that easy to replace?
He was about to push to his feet and go tell Mr. Brooks Brothers where to put his money clip when he realized someone had sat down beside him and stuck his feet in the pool.
If it hadn’t been his boss, Billy wouldn’t have let himself be delayed.
“Daniel. Nice party.”
“Thanks. Elena did most of the planning. She went a little overboard.”
“That’s what happens when you give someone an unlimited budget.”
“You think that’s my mistake?”
Daniel wasn’t really asking for Billy’s opinion. He was just making conversation, being a good party host.
“I think women like to spend money,” Billy said with a shrug.
“Everybody likes to spend money, Mr. Shiny New Ford F-1 Pickup with all the bells and whistles. Not to mention those custom-made Tony Lama ostrich skins you wear.”
“Point taken.”
Daniel sobered. “So how’d it go at the church this morning with Beth?”
Billy grimaced. “We couldn’t get in. The place was locked up tighter than a nun’s new shoes. But a sign on the door said it would be open this afternoon at three for confession. We thought we’d try again then.”
“And how is Claudia?”
“She’s got one of your Logan Oil starched shirts eating out of her hand.”
Daniel glanced over his shoulder where Billy was looking, then laughed. “I meant, how is she doing physically? And you don’t have to worry about Brent. He plays for the other team.”
“I think she’ll make a full recovery, and I’m not worried,” Billy said quickly, kicking out a rooster tail of water at a teenage boy who’d ventured too close.
Daniel snorted. “Please. Claudia might be a nationally recognized body language expert, but you guys are so easy to read a child could do it.”
This day just got better and better. So now everyone would know that not only had he and Claudia hooked up, but she’d dumped him before they’d even gotten off the ground.
“Not something you want to talk about, I take it,” Daniel said. “My mistake. Just so you know, I have no problems with office romance. If I did, I’d lose half my staff.”
Wasn’t that the truth.
Just then a whooping sound caught their attention, coming from the cabana. A tall, thin figure emerged with a huge, dragon-shaped pool toy wrapped around its middle. The figure had a mane of silver curls, and it—she—was wearing a lime-green bikini. She streaked toward the pool with another war whoop and did a cannonball, splashing everyone in the vicinity, including Daniel and Billy.
Billy shielded his eyes with his hand. “Oh, wow, that was way more of Celeste than I needed to see.”
“No kidding,” Daniel said. “Although you have to admit, she’s in amazing shape for a seventy-something-year-old woman.”
“I didn’t look that close.”
The teenagers were laughing, and a dark-haired boy of about sixteen approached and hugged her. “Hey, Aunty Celeste. Nice entrance. Did you catch the—”
“Shh!” Celeste glanced nervously in Daniel’s direction. “I’ve got traps set all over. I promise you’ll have Buster by next week.”
Daniel just shook his head. “She still hasn’t caught the javelina? I can’t imagine what it’s doing to the office.”
“You don’t want to know.”
Daniel seemed much more concerned about work. “So, have there been any more breaks in the case?”
“It’s pretty well stalled.” This, at least, was an area of conversation he was comfortable with, though he wished he had better news to report. “We can’t get a lead on Eduardo, we can’t find the missing coins, the district attorney is being a horse’s ass, our client’s daughter is spending all her mom’s money and we can’t stop her.”
“Something will break. Keep hammering away.”
“I don’t know, Daniel. I’m not sure I’m cut out for this. I’m doing my best, but what if that’s not good enough? What if we can’t stop them from putting Mary-Francis to death? I’m not sure I can handle having that on my conscience.”
“Well, aren’t you a bright ray of sunshine today.”
“It’s hard to be optimistic, under the circumstances. It’s just…maybe you should assign someone else to this case.”
Daniel got very serious. “All you can do is your best, Billy. I know that’s a cliché, but it’s true. It’s all any of us can do. But circumstances can change in a heartbeat. Case in point…” He nodded toward the house. Two new party guests had arrived—Mitch and Beth. But Mitch had his laptop case in hand, and Beth was clutching a sheaf of papers. They didn’t look as though they were ready to dive headfirst into frozen margaritas and barbecued bratwurst.
Mitch’s gaze focused on Billy. “Hey, Cantu. Boss man.” He motioned for Billy and Daniel to come over.
“What’s going on?”
“I don’t know,” Daniel said, “but it looks like Mitch and Beth have been working overtime.”
Billy and Daniel both pulled their feet out of the pool and stood. Beth waved to Claudia, who now sat under the umbrella clutching the baby, and beckoned her to join them.
Seeing Claudia looking so naturally maternal, Billy’s heart almost stopped. He’d never thought of her that way, but for a split second he wondered what kind of mother she would be. To his kids. Their kids.
He squinched his eyes closed and banished the thought. When he opened them again, Claudia was looking around for someone to pass the baby off to, and when she came up empty, she brought him with her. “Hey, you guys, what’s up?”
Beth waved the stack of papers in front of Claudia and opened her mouth to explain, then caught sight of the baby. “Oh, my God, look at that baby, how cute.”
“Isn’t he adorable? His name’s Scotty. I told his mother I’d watch him while she plays tennis.”
“He looks fast asleep,” Mitch said. “Just bring him with you. This can’t wait.”
That sounded ominous, Billy thought. But at least there was movement on the case. They had to solve this thing. He couldn’t keep working so closely with Claudia and not go insane, and Daniel wasn’t going to let him back out.
“Can we go inside, somewhere quiet,” Beth said, “and talk?”
They went into the library. Daniel’s dog followed them into the cool haven. Tucker liked to keep his master in sight.
Daniel’s library, unlike the rest of the house, was a casual, manly room w
ith a massive stone fireplace, rustic wood floors, and an oak bar that stretched across one entire wall. Various cushy sofas and chairs were scattered about, along with a couple of card tables and one long library table, which was where they chose to sit.
Billy pulled out Claudia’s chair—she was holding a sleeping baby, after all. She murmured her thanks, and Billy chose a chair as far away from her as he could reasonably get without it looking odd.
“So, I got nothing off the cigarette butt,” Beth began. “But I did get a DNA profile from the fingernail. And I had my friend at the Houston P.D. run it through the national database. You won’t believe who came up.”
Billy pressed his palms together. “Please tell me it was Eduardo.”
“Not Eduardo,” Beth said, “but something just as intriguing. The guy’s name is Pedro Madrazo.” She turned to Claudia. “Does that name mean anything to you?”
“No,” Claudia replied. “Pretty sure I’ve never heard it.”
“So he hasn’t been one of your patients?”
“I’ll double-check my records, but no. I tend to remember names.” The baby stirred, and she absently rubbed his tummy to soothe him. “Who is he?”
Mitch took over the explanations from there. He’d already opened his laptop and fired it up. “Pedro Madrazo is a big-time felon. He used to be a so-called manager at Eduardo Torres’s import-export company.”
“Yessss!” Billy made a fist in the air.
“He wouldn’t normally involve himself in something like petty assault. He’s a little higher up the food chain. At least, he used to be.”
Something about Mitch’s tone of voice alerted Billy that the other shoe was about to drop. “Is he in custody?” Billy asked hopefully.
“Unfortunately, no,” Mitch said. “In fact, no one has any clue where this guy is because he’s supposed to be dead.”
For a few moments, everyone in the room went silent. The only noise was Mitch’s fingers busily tapping at the speed of light on his computer.
“It can’t be a coincidence,” Daniel said. “Now we have two men, former associates, who are supposed to be dead who probably aren’t.”
“Pedro Madrazo was supposedly gunned down in a drive-by shooting seven years ago,” Mitch said, reading from his computer screen, “shot in the face. He had Rio Grande Mafia connections. The case is officially unsolved. His body was identified by his wife, based on his clothing. He was carrying a wallet with his ID.”
“So they might not have done a DNA test to establish the victim’s identity.” Beth shook her head and clicked her tongue. “Sloppy, sloppy.”
“Madrazo was facing some pretty hefty criminal charges at the time,” Mitch continued. “Human trafficking, drug smuggling and so on.”
“Sounds way too familiar,” Daniel said.
“Madrazo undoubtedly faked his own death,” Beth concluded. “Probably found some poor homeless guy of about his build and coloring, dressed him up in his clothes, shot him in the face, then got his wife to swear it was him. The wife and kids moved back to Mexico shortly afterward and seem to have dropped out of sight.”
“Eduardo was also facing criminal charges,” Billy concluded, “and he decided to take a page out of his buddy Pedro’s book.”
“The ties between Pedro and Eduardo are undeniable,” Daniel said. “We can take this to the police and get them to reopen the Madrazo murder. Once they confirm Pedro isn’t dead…” He paused, thinking it through.
“That’s all good and fine,” Billy said, “but it won’t be strong enough to get the Montgomery County D.A. to reopen the Torres murder case. We have to find Eduardo, ‘walking and talking.’ His words.
“The priest knows something,” Billy said. “He for sure knows something.”
“I’ll talk to Jamie,” Daniel said. “The Eduardo Torres murder might not be in her jurisdiction, but the Pedro Madrazo case is. Maybe she can convince her investigators to connect the dots and put some resources into finding both of these supposedly dead guys. Also, I’ve got some contacts in Mexican law enforcement, such as it is. I’ll try to pull in a few favors.”
Billy’s cell phone rang, and he checked the screen, figuring it was one of his sisters or his mom, wanting him to come to the family picnic. But the caller was blocked.
He stepped away from the table to a quieter corner, leaving the others to debate how best to trap Eduardo.
“Cantu,” he said into the phone.
“This is David Blaire—I’m on the surveillance team watching Angie Torres?”
“Oh, yeah, David. What’s going on?”
“She drove to a house in Conroe. On Baxter Avenue.”
“That’s her aunt’s house.” Billy’s skin tingled, the way it did before a case broke open big.
“She waited for the boyfriend to leave before she went over there, like maybe she didn’t want him to know what she was up to. She’s inside now.”
“Did she get in with a key?”
“No. The windows are boarded up, and she found a loose board and squeezed through.”
This was good news. The police had a reason to arrest her and hold her, now. He wanted the little junkie in an interrogation room…damn, not that he would get to do the interrogating. Sometimes he missed being a cop.
“Do not let her leave. If she tries to leave, arrest her. Say you were driving by and saw her breaking in.”
“Cool. You coming?”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
When he hung up, everybody was looking at him. He quickly repeated what he’d just learned from the off-duty cop. “I need to get over there and question her, find out why she’s there.”
“I’ll check and see who she’s been talking to lately,” Mitch said as his fingers blurred over his keyboard.
“You can check her phone records?” Claudia asked incredulously. “How do you do that? I thought you needed a warrant.”
“Don’t ask, don’t tell,” Mitch said with a grin, never looking up from his screen. “I did find one thing interesting about Angie Torres. Once a day, she receives a phone call at about 8:00 p.m. But it’s never from the same number. So I checked to see what the numbers had in common—they’re all throwaway prepaid cell phones.”
“Eduardo,” Billy and Claudia said at the same time.
“Take someone with you to confront Angie,” Daniel said to Billy. “Take Ford, or Griffin.”
“I want to come,” Claudia said.
“Not this time, cielito.” The endearment had slipped out, and Billy could have kicked himself. “Last time we faced Angie she almost…well, you know what happened.”
She sighed. “So you’re going to get your head blown off instead?”
Daniel looked from Billy to Claudia and back again. “What happened last time you faced Angie Torres?”
“I stupidly put Claudia’s life at risk,” Billy confessed. Eventually Daniel would find out somehow; he always did. “I don’t want to have to worry about any civilians this time.”
“He’s right,” Beth said to Claudia. “Let the ex-cops handle this one, okay? Drug addicts can be very dangerous.”
“I know,” she said resignedly. “You guys be careful, huh?”
Billy’s heart nearly melted. At least she cared what happened to him, even if he’d behaved like the bastard he was. “We will.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
MITCH PACKED UP HIS LAPTOP and left the women in the library with the baby. Little Scotty was just about the cutest thing Claudia had ever seen, but even a warm, cuddly baby wasn’t enough to distract her from worrying about Billy.
He knew what he was doing. He was a highly trained, decorated ex-police officer, and Ford Hyatt was Daniel’s top investigator. Still, who knew how desperate Angie really was?
“Can I hold him?” Beth asked.
“Huh?” It took her a couple of seconds to realize she wasn’t talking about Billy. “Oh, Scotty. Sure. My arm’s getting a little tired.” The splint did a good job keepin
g her wrist immobilized, and it didn’t hurt much, except when she put pressure on it. Like holding a baby.
“Look at his little ears,” Beth said as she settled the infant somewhat awkwardly into her lap. “They’re so perfect. Just like big-people ears but, like, the size of a quarter.”
“I like his little tiny eyelashes,” Claudia said. Holding a baby made her hormones run amok. “So, do you want one?”
“Oh, yeah, definitely. I mean, not right this second. Mitch and I need to have some ‘just us’ time first. But eventually. What about you?”
“I used to think I didn’t. So many things can go wrong raising a kid, even with two loving parents who try their best. I’ve seen so many disturbed kids, abused, unloved, throwaways.” Like me. “It’s heartbreaking. But then you see one like this, so precious, so perfect…”
“And you wish you could just run to the store and buy one.”
Claudia laughed. “Yes. Exactly. Or at least rent one by the hour. We’re biologically predestined to want them. The hormones are there. We can’t do anything about them.”
“Those can get damned inconvenient, can’t they?”
Claudia blew out a sigh. “You said it, sister.”
“You and Billy…?”
Claudia nodded. “Yes, and no. It’s not going to work out.”
“Really? Does he still want to play the field?”
“No, that’s not it. I mean, he seems like a real player, but I think he’d be loyal. It’s just that we want different things. I want him to trust me enough to open up. He wants me to trust him despite that he won’t open up. We tried to just let that be, go with the flow, but I couldn’t do it. I pushed, and he got mad, and then I felt terrible for asking something he can’t give.”
Beth looked genuinely sad. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s for the better,” Claudia said pragmatically.