“Mason, what else did this guy say?” Clint asked.
“He knew nothing more than that when it came to Beth, but that scared the hell out of us. It means Berto has targeted her. All we can figure is somewhere down the line he’s met her. Lydia, we’re going to have to ask your dad.”
“This is going to kill Papa.” She pressed close to Clint’s warmth. “He’s going to hate himself for putting Beth at risk, but there is no other explanation.”
“We do have good news. The same guy had a lot to say about daddy Guzman. He gave up everything. Shit, he even drew maps to guide the Mexican authorities to Guzman’s plantations. His operation is shut down. Tomorrow, they’re going to raid the place where he should be and arrest him.”
“Thank God.”
“It’s possible after tomorrow’s arrest, we’ll have all the evidence we need against the congressman. It might mean Guzman’s drug empire is no more. If that really happens, then the reprisals that the US Marshall’s have been worried about, are gone. You and your family won’t have to go into Witness Protection.”
“What about Berto and his sick fascination with Beth?”
“He didn’t have any idea of his whereabouts. But we should be able to find him. Everyone involved is hell-bent on taking down the human trafficking ring. We’re sure there will be some evidence when they capture Guzman tomorrow. Until we do, you and your parents might not have to be under guard, but your sister will be.”
“That doesn’t make any fucking sense,” Clint ground out. “Won’t Berto be likely to seek retribution on the rest of the Hidalgo family?”
“No,” Lydia said tiredly. “I know him. He’s not his father. He’s not some cartel crime lord. You know this Clint, you’ve read the same things I have. He’s all about Berto and making money. If he’s moved onto human trafficking, he’s just in it for the money. And apparently my sister,” Lydia’s voice broke.
“We’re going to get him, there is no fucking way this fucking bastard will get his fucking hands on Beth.” Drake stood up and started pacing the length of the hotel suite.
“But I wanted this to be over with, for everyone.” Lydia pressed the heel of her hand to her eyes. She felt a headache coming on. Clint squeezed the back of her neck, offering relief.
“So now we wait. When is the raid going down?” Clint asked.
“Three o’clock.”
“Will Mama and Papa still have to be in protective custody until the trial?”
Mason traded glances with Darius and Clint who were still sitting on the couch. “It’s probably for the best, Lydia. The DEA agents are out on bail.”
“Okay.” She wanted to go back to bed. “Oh yeah, I hope you have a nice time with Sophia. She deserves a great birthday. Clint told me about all she’s been through.”
“We have quite the party planned. Hopefully you’ll get to meet her soon.”
“That’d be nice Mason. Really nice.” She rubbed her temple. Her head was really beginning to pound.
“Okay, let’s wrap this up. I need to get Lydia some aspirin and back to bed.”
“Good night, Lydia. Guys, I’ll keep you informed.” Mason signed off.
Darius stood and joined Drake at the door of the suite.
“Call us when you get up. Lydia, I hope you get to feeling better,” Drake said as he walked out the door.
She slumped against the back of the couch. The next thing she knew Clint was giving her some water and two white tablets.
“Here, Baby.” She swallowed.
“Sorry,” she said looking up at him. Damn the light was hurting her eyes. She closed them. He picked her up and carried her to their bedroom. He helped her out of her clothes and she lay there with him. The pain didn’t subside and she whimpered.
“Let me work on you. You’re tensing up and the pain’s getting worse, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” her voice was slurred.
Clint gently rolled her over. He pushed her hair over her head and did a couple of soft touches up and down her back and then lightly stroked her neck and scalp. She pushed up into his fingers trying to increase the pressure.
“Don’t move baby, I’ll do it harder.” Over time his touch became more firm, until she finally sighed in relief.
“You can stop now. I feel better.”
“Just go to sleep. I like touching you.”
She drifted off with the feel of Clint caressing and caring for her.
Chapter Eleven
“I want to talk about Rylie.” Were the first words out of Darius’ mouth as he entered the hotel suite. Thank God she was firing on all cylinders, otherwise Lydia didn’t think she would have been able to have handled such an abrupt change in topic from last night’s.
“Okay,” she said slowly. “What do you want to talk about?”
“Has she contacted you? What have you been doing to find her? Is she still messed up with this Guzman shit?”
“Whoa there Hoss. Let’s order up some breakfast. Lydia hasn’t even had her coffee. We’ll tell you everything we know.” Clint clamped a hand on his friends shoulder and guided him towards the dining room table where the coffee pot sat. Lydia gave Drake a questioning look, and he just shook his head in confusion.
Darius poured himself some coffee. All three men took it black, while Lydia doctored hers up with an appropriate amount of cream and sugar.
“The last time Rylie contacted us we tracked her down to Oklahoma,” Clint said.
“Where?”
“We don’t know.”
“Why not?”
Darius was asking the questions rapid fire. Clint was showing a hell of a lot more patience than she would have been. What the hell was Darius’ problem?
“Look, Darius,” Lydia interrupted. “Rylie has been on the net as Sylvia for over three years. I’m betting that before then she was doing a hell of a lot under different names. She is one of the best I’ve ever run into.”
“So she’s wily, like a coyote,” Drake chimed in. He laughed at his own joke. Everyone scowled at him.
“What I’m saying Darius is that we were lucky to track her to Oklahoma. We’ve been concentrating on the Guzman case, and now I want to nail Berto, but finding Rylie is important, so we won’t give up on her.”
“You don’t understand.” Darius hadn’t touched his coffee, he looked between Clint and Lydia. “She’s young, her parents are dead, she’s been abused and she doesn’t have an anchor. She’s going to keep taking risks until something bad happens to her because she thinks this Robin Hood thing is her only purpose. She has no sense of self-preservation. We’ve got to stop her.”
“You can’t know that,” Drake said.
“Yes I can.” His teeth were clenched. The last time she had seen him look like that was when he had been ministering to her in the jungle.
“Explain it to us, Darius. Tell us how you know this,” she said gently. She reached over the table and grabbed his clenched fist.
“I grew up in foster care. I just know.” He looked her dead in the eye, ignoring Clint and Drake. “I know.”
“Then it’s a done deal,” Drake said. “As soon as Guzman is handled, we have two number one priorities. We find the fucker Berto, and we make sure Rylie is cared for.” Darius pulled his hand away from Lydia and picked up his coffee.
“All right then.”
“I want breakfast. Does this place serve grits, or is it too hoity-toity?” Clint called in the room service order, and Drake bitched all during breakfast that they didn’t have grits on the menu.
Darius got up first from the table. Lydia watched as he went to the window to look outside. He then came back to the table and sat down. Two minutes later Drake repeated the process. When Clint did the same thing, curiosity got to her.
“What is going on? Are you worried someone is going to come here?” Clint looked over at her with a rueful expression.
“We’re just antsy, Baby. We can’t stand the thought of Mason and the others in harm’s way i
n Mexico and us sitting here. So we’re just walking around and looking for shadows.”
“Enough already.” Drake went to his jacket and pulled out a dog-eared deck of cards. “Clint, see if you can at least get some GPS going on the team, and track them. In the meantime, let’s see if we can settle by playing a little poker.”
Clint pulled up his computer and soon they had Mason’s position pinpointed. He wasn’t moving.
“I’m going to set it up so it pings as soon as he moves. In the meantime I intend to win back all the cash that I lost to Darius last time.”
“Dream on, buddy. I’m the master at poker.” Lydia listened to the byplay. She’d only played poker once, but she remembered the rules, they seemed straightforward enough.
“Deal me in.”
It took over an hour before the computer pinged to let them know Mason was on the move. Nobody was really interested in the game, and stopped playing to watch the computer screen.
“There!” Drake pointed to a building. “That’s their target. It’s acquired.” Lydia watched as all the men seemed to hold their collective breaths when Mason’s dot stopped moving on the screen. They let it out as one when it started to move again.
“Does Mason know you can track him?” Lydia asked.
“Clint tracks everyone,” Drake answered. “All of our cells have tracking devices for Clint to follow us. I’m sure Clint doctored the burner phone you got so he could track you.”
“Did you?”
“Hell yes.” For some reason that made her feel comforted.
The icon for Mason stopped again.
Clint got a text.
“They got him!” Mason said he’d SKYPE with us when he could. The relief in the suite was palpable. They went back to playing cards, and Darius beat everyone easily. Two hours later Mason was on the screen. He spoke directly to Lydia.
“They got him, Lydia. Guzman is in custody. Everything went down without a hitch.”
“What about Berto?”
“What we’re being told is it’s going to take a couple of days to sort through everything to find any evidence of Berto and the human trafficking ring.”
“So Guzman didn’t say anything?” Clint asked.
“I’m sorry man. No he didn’t. They have him in for questioning. I spoke to Inspector Rios and he’s sure he can get him to talk.”
“He won’t,” Lydia said dejectedly.
“I agree,” Mason said. “We’re really counting on finding something on his computers. I was told he had quite the set-up. In the meantime, your sister is safe in hiding. Once Berto is captured, your whole family will be able to live a life without fear of reprisal from Guzman. But…”
“But what?”
“I talked to Rios. He didn’t think it was ever really going to be safe for your father to come back to Mexico City. Even with Guzman out of the picture, there are going to be too many people who will remember him.”
Lydia nodded.
****
“Clint, I don’t know what to do,” Lydia whispered.
She was sitting cross legged in the middle of the bed, staring at her laptop. “How do I tell my parents the great news that they’ll be free when the trial is over, but Beth still has to remain in hiding because a madman is after her? How do I tell Beth?”
She rocked back and forth, tapping on the space bar.
“Lydia, you don’t have to tell them anything right now. Everything is status quo. They all have to stay under protection until after the trial anyway. Why confront this?” Dammit, why did everything always fall on Lydia’s shoulders?
“Because it’s the right thing to do.”
“Why? What’s it going to accomplish? You tell them, they stay where they are. You don’t tell them, they stay where they are.” She looked up at him.
“That’s true, isn’t it?” She looked so hopeful.
“What’s more, you know everyone is looking for Berto Guzman. By the time the trial is over with, that asshole will probably be in custody so it will be a moot point.” Lydia stopped tapping and rocking.
“We’re going to help find that asshole. We’ve got a week until Papa has to testify. You’re right, this is nothing. We brought down an international drug cartel! We can stop his slime ball son!”
Clint gave her a big grin. He didn’t want to do anything to diminish her enthusiasm. But he’d talked to Mason and he knew they were fighting an uphill battle. Still if anyone deserved some luck, it was the Hidalgo sisters.
“Okay Lydia. Let’s blow this Popsicle stand and get something to eat. I’m sick of room service. We can work out some strategy over dinner. How does that sound.” She snapped shut her laptop and jumped off the bed.
“That sounds wonderful. Just give me a quick second to change. Are the guys coming with us?”
“No, they needed some downtime. It’ll just be the two of us. I would expect to see Darius first thing tomorrow morning. This thing with Rylie really has him rattled.”
“They’re just really giving me space, aren’t they?” she said as she went to the closet.
“Does it matter?” he asked as he watched her pull out a blue dress.
“No. I guess it doesn’t.”
“After dinner, let’s call Melvin. Maybe he knows something he doesn’t even know he knows about Rylie.”
“Damn, Lydia, that even kind of made sense.” She grinned over her shoulder as she closed the door to the bathroom.
****
“How often do you and Mr. Muscles have sex anyway?” Melvin asked. Lydia and Clint were on the living room couch listening to Melvin on the speakers of the computer.
“What?” Lydia was taken aback by the question, and luckily Clint stepped in.
“Baby, he basically wants to know when you’re going to want to video Skype with him again. Which will be never,” Clint said into the computer speaker.
“Damn, he has a brain too?”
“Did I tell you he’s a Navy SEAL?” Lydia asked sweetly.
“Please say you’re kidding me.” Melvin sounded like he was in pain.
“She’s just pulling your leg, Melvin.”
There was a long silence.
“Melvin? Are you there?” Lydia asked.
“Hold on, Kitten. I need just a little bit longer.” Clint held up his can of Mountain Dew to see if she wanted a sip, she shuddered as she shook her head. She did steal some Doritos out of his bag on the coffee table.
“Senior Chief Petty Officer Clint Archer, stationed out of San Diego. You’re originally from Denver. Your middle name is Anthony. You really are a fucking Navy SEAL and I’m never going to be able to video SKYPE with Lydia again, am I?” Melvin sounded dejected.
“Nope, you won’t. On the plus side, you’ve made some strong allies.”
“I’m not sure that makes up for the loss of seeing her in an angora sweater.”
Lydia squirmed.
“You own an angora sweater?” Clint asked, the Dorito halfway to his mouth.
“Enough guys. This is important.” Seriously, men and boobs. Why women didn’t rule the world was beyond her.
“Melvin, did you hear Guzman was arrested today?”
“It was damn near all anyone talked about today. It made the dark net headlines.” Melvin laughed at his joke.
“I have two problems. Berto is on the loose and he doesn’t seem to care about the drug business imploding. He’s onto a new business,” Lydia explained.
“Yep, that made page two. He’s now in the sex slave business.”
“Melvin, can you please say human trafficking.”
“I believe in calling it the way it is,” he protested.
“Well then, let me inform you, that seventeen percent of the people sold into the US are sold for labor, not sexual slavery. So human trafficking is more accurate. I abhor that term.” She’d agreed with Drake, and was grateful when he had made a point to have the team stop using the phrase. The least she could do is follow through with others.
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br /> “I’m going to check your stats, but you’re right, I should be more respectful. Now that we’re done with the PC version of our program, tell me what you need from me.”
“I need any and all information on Berto. But just as critical I need any and all information on Sylvia Hessman and someone named Rylie Jones.”
“Ahhh, you figured that one out, did you.”
“You knew?”
“Yeah, since last year. I did some digging. I hate not knowing about my associates. It was odd to find out I was swapping information with a dead girl. But believe it or not she’s not my most interesting contact. There’s this guy from New Jersey who’s trying to get into the Guinness Book of World Records for speaking entirely in Klingon for the longest amount of time. He only has five more months and he’ll make the book.”
“Klingon?” Lydia asked.
“That’s a fake language from the television show Star Trek,” Clint answered.
“Not fake my friend. It has been made into a full-fledged language.”
“Clint, didn’t you hear? In order for this man from New Jersey has to beat out somebody else, he has to continue speaking Klingon for five more months.” Lydia put her hand over her mouth to stop the little giggle. But then it became a bigger giggle. Then it was a chuckle. Then it was a full blown laugh and she couldn’t stop it from bursting forth.
“Melvin, that’s wonderful! You have the best contacts in the world. Oh my God. This is too funny.”
Clint and Melvin were laughing as well.
“Yeah well, at least he’s allowed to type in English.”
“Okay, back to the reason for our call,” Clint said.
“I can definitely help with Berto, but you need to tell me why you want the info on Rylie.”
“Melvin, that’s why I love working with you. You’re loyal to a fault,” Lydia stated. “I’m really worried about her. She’s been getting pretty scary information and now she’s dropped from the grid.”
Her Loyal Seal Page 17