AMANDA STEVENS
TEXAS RANSOM
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Prologue
A waxing moon rose over the barren countryside as the black SUV bumped along a back road that ran parallel to the border. Two hundred yards away, across the Rio Grande, was Big Bend National Park, a vast terrain of canyons, desert and mountains. A place where a man could stay invisible for days if he needed to.
Leo Kittering sat alone in the back seat and stared straight ahead as the headlights tunneled through the darkness. He glanced back once, made uneasy by their proximity to the border, but the road was clear. Nothing behind them but a swirl of dust that settled slowly in the moonlight.
Kittering turned away from the window. His heart fluttered as adrenaline rushed through his veins. He hadn’t felt this exhilarated in years. And with good reason because soon everything would be in place.
The man and woman…they wouldn’t know what hit them.
He didn’t want to get ahead of himself, though. There was still a lot to be done. Too many things that could yet go wrong. An operation of this magnitude was a delicate balance of careful planning and guesswork.
A part of him wished that he could be there when it all went down, but his time for that kind of work had come and gone. He was no longer a young man or in the best of health. But even if he had still been in his prime, he wouldn’t risk crossing the border. If he was spotted and detained by the authorities, the whole plan would be jeopardized.
Besides he didn’t need to see their faces at the exact moment they realized their lives were over. He could take just as much satisfaction in the aftermath.
He shifted his considerable weight in the seat and rolled down the window for a breath of fresh air. The man in the front passenger seat glanced over his shoulder. He had a cell phone to his ear, which he lowered for a moment to ask in an anxious voice, “Leo, you okay?”
The older man grunted, neither confirming nor denying the query.
The vehicle came to a stop, and to his right Leo could see the glitter of moonlight on muddy water. For years, American tourists and Mexican villagers had crossed the river in nearby Boquillas, a loosely enforced class-B port of entry. Leo himself had come over not far from there, but that had been a long time ago. The crossing was officially closed now, although residents of the tiny village continued to go back and forth with their livestock. And often with even more valuable cargo.
Leo’s mind churned with memories and emotions and with a sudden unease. “They’re not here,” he muttered as apprehension fingered down his spine.
“Don’t worry, they’ll show. There’s too much at stake for them not to.”
I hope you’re right, Kittering thought, his eyes still glued to the water. Because if Gabriel Esteban didn’t come soon, somebody would have to pay.
As if reading his mind, Hector Reyes—the man with the cell phone—shot him a worried look. “I made the arrangements myself. They’ll show,” he said again, as if he, too, needed reassuring.
Kittering closed his eyes for a moment, letting the humid air wash over him. He’d brought L.J. here once, when they’d been on a camping trip in Big Bend. The boy couldn’t have been more than seven or eight because they’d still been living in San Antonio at the time. Leo had owned his own business even then, been a well-respected member of the community. Happily married, a settled family man. Then a few risky deals had soured and he’d found it necessary to relocate in something of a hurry to Mexico.
His wife, Nina, had refused to come with him. She’d tried to turn L.J. against him, too, but the foolish woman had learned the hard way that you did not keep a father from his only son.
Nina, God rest her soul, had been dead nearly thirty years, and L.J. was gone now, too. But it gave Leo no comfort to imagine that mother and son were reunited in heaven.
The only thing that gave him any pleasure since his son’s murder was the promise of revenge. It had been a long time coming. But now the day of reckoning was almost at hand.
“What about Houston?” he growled. “Our contact there can be trusted? You’re certain?”
Hector Reyes turned again, his gaze meeting Leo’s in the dark. “He knows the consequences of betrayal. Nothing will go wrong.”
“An operation like this…we can’t be too careful.” Leo sank back into deep thought. He wanted to turn his mind away from the past. He needed to get his head back in the game before the others arrived so that he could be on guard for even the smallest hint of treachery.
Leo had never met Gabriel Esteban, but his violent reputation preceded him. Leo wasn’t afraid of very many things or very many men. Not after everything he’d seen and done in his sixty-three years on this earth. But the stories he’d heard about Gabriel Esteban chilled even his blood.
Doing business with an animal like that…
Leo shuddered.
His men were jittery, too, especially Hector, who would accompany Esteban and his crew to Houston. Leo didn’t blame Hector for being nervous. He was in a difficult position. If he refused to go with Esteban, he risked Leo’s wrath. And if Esteban turned on him once they were across the border, Hector would wish that he’d never been born. The poor man was caught between the proverbial rock and a hard place.
Leo felt only a slight twinge of guilt over Hector’s predicament, even though the younger man had worked for him for years. Hector had started in the organization as a kid, a penniless street urchin who’d turned up at Leo’s front gate one day, demanding a job. Leo had admired the boy’s bravado and his determination to take care of his family, especially his younger sister, Maria. So Leo had given him the odd job around the estate.
But behind Leo’s back, Hector and L.J. had become fast friends, and sometime later Leo discovered that the boy had moved into the house. He’d take a room down the hall from L.J.’s and had never left, even when Leo’s son went off to university.
After L.J.’s death, Hector had become Leo’s right-hand man, and eventually Maria had moved into the house, too. Leo thought the world of both Hector and Maria, but still he didn’t hesitate to send him on this dangerous mission. Because when all was said and done, blood was still thicker than water.
A movement in the dark caught Leo’s attention, and his eyes narrowed as he focused on the water. A few yards downstream, a teenage boy crossed the shallow river with a donkey. Leo watched until the boy was out of sight, and then he turned slowly as approaching headlights illuminated the interior of his vehicle.
“That’ll be him.” Hector glanced nervously over the seat. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked in Spanish. “Gabriel Esteban is a very dangerous man. Once you agree to his terms, there’ll be no turning back.”
The driver, who had spoken very little during the drive, cast a wary glance at first Hector and then Leo.
Leo knew what he was thinking. There would be hell to pay for anyone else who dared challenge Leo’s judgment.
Everyone who worked for Leo knew of his temper. His control had a way of snapping when it was least expected over the seemingly most inconsequential incident. Part of that was by nature and part of it by design. Leo enjoyed seeing the men’s fear. It kept them on their toes.
He’d been a little too lax with Hector. That was another reason he was sending him across the border with Esteban. Hector had bec
ome too complacent. And that could spell trouble very quickly in their business.
“I know what I’m doing,” Leo snapped. “Now, leave me, both of you. I want to speak to Esteban alone.”
Hector and the driver climbed out of the vehicle, but they didn’t go far. Leo could hear them muttering in Spanish through his open window.
The headlights on the other vehicle went dead, and all at once the darkness of the countryside seemed to envelope Leo. He felt an unfamiliar tightness in his lungs, as if something heavy was pressing against his chest.
Suddenly he couldn’t wait to be home, safely ensconced behind the high stucco walls that protected his home from the prying eyes of the federales. In the past five years, since L.J.’s death, he’d rarely ventured outside those walls. Now he remembered why. After nearly three decades, the Mexican landscape still seemed foreign to him.
A few minutes passed before Leo saw a tall, dark shadow emerge from the other vehicle and walk slowly across the dusty road toward the SUV. The approaching stranger said something to Hector and the driver, and then Leo heard a soft laugh before Gabriel Esteban opened the door and slid onto the backseat beside him.
The interior light had been disengaged, but moonlight flooded through the windows and Leo could see the barest hint of a smile still lingering at the corners of Esteban’s mouth. His was not a nice smile, more like a vicious smirk. His face was pitted with acne scars and his thick eyebrows rose in points above his dark eyes, giving him a demonic appearance befitting his reputation.
In spite of the physical imperfections, Leo had a feeling that Gabriel Esteban never wanted for female companionship. There was something about him, a perverse charisma that would draw a certain kind of woman like a moth to flame.
Gabriel eyes met Leo’s in the moonlight and the unpleasant smile deepened. “Señor Kittering.”
The sound of his voice drove an icy chill straight through Leo’s heart. He was not a man easily intimidated. He’d operated for too many years on the seamy side of society and had turned a blind eye to the havoc his profession wreaked on innocent lives. He’d arranged the “accident” that had removed his wife from his son’s life, and he’d never so much as fingered a rosary in regret.
But now the thought of what Gabriel Esteban would do with Leo’s money filled his heart with a black, freezing dread. Leo was surely on the road to hell now. He had been for a long time, but now there was no turning back. For what he and Gabriel Esteban had planned, there would be no forgiveness.
“Señor Esteban.” He said the name with the respectful wariness befitting two powerful rivals who suddenly found themselves co-conspirators in a diabolical scheme.
“You have the money?”
Leo reached for the laptop on the seat between them. “Half will be transferred into your account now, the other half when the job is finished. Just as we agreed.”
Gabriel Esteban nodded. “Then let’s get on with it, shall we?”
It took Leo only a few seconds to transfer the funds to the numbered bank account in the Caymans that had been set up for the operation. Once Esteban was satisfied the transaction had gone through, he glanced up. “Relax, mi amigo. In a matter of days, we will both have what we want.”
“I’ll relax when the woman is safely across the border.”
“And the man?”
“Do whatever is necessary to gain his cooperation. Then kill him.”
Esteban grinned as he opened the door and climbed out, then briefly turned to say over his shoulder, “I’ll be in touch. Have your man ready to leave at a moment’s notice.”
Leo watched him walk back to the other car. The headlights came on, and the vehicle turned, heading down the road in the direction from which it had come.
The front doors of the SUV opened and Hector and the driver got in. Hector glanced at the laptop on the seat beside Leo.
“It’s done then?”
“It’s done.” Leo drew a long breath, settling into the corner of his seat as his gaze went back to the river.
God help him, it was done.
Chapter One
“It feels a little like heaven up here, doesn’t it?”
“Only a little?” Graham Hollister teased as he surveyed the city lights from the rooftop of the PemCo Tower, an eighty-five-story glass-and-granite monolith that was now the tallest skyscraper in the Houston skyline.
The building would soon become the oil company’s world headquarters, but for now, tonight, it was the culmination of all Graham’s dreams.
When he closed his eyes, he could feel the building sway beneath them, and a wave of dizziness washed over him. He fought it off. He didn’t want anything to spoil this night.
He tightened his arms around his wife’s slim waist. “Only a little like heaven,” he mused. “Damn. I must be doing something wrong.”
She pulled away and shot him a look over her shoulder. “Will you stop fishing? I told you earlier the earth moved. What more do you want?”
“Tell me again. I’m feeling insecure.” His hand trailed down her bare arm. “Or better yet, show me.”
She slapped at his hand. “Up here? No way! I’m not an exhibitionist.”
“Tell that to Myron.” Myron was the stray tabby they’d adopted a few months ago when he’d crawled over the fence one day and caught them skinny-dipping in the pool. He’d gotten quite an eyeful before either of them had noticed him stretched out on one of the loungers.
“Different situation entirely,” Kendall said. “And besides, Myron doesn’t have a judgmental bone in his body.”
“And I do?”
“You’re not the one I’m worried about. Getting caught in flagrante delicto by the Mexican ambassador is not my idea of a fun evening.”
“No, but I bet it would be his,” Graham said as he drew her back against him.
Her shampoo smelled like flowers, but her perfume was something darker, headier. That was Kendall. Always a dichotomy. Insecure, dauntless and perfectly flawed. A woman he found endlessly fascinating, even after seven years of marriage. More like five, though, if you counted the long separation.
But Graham didn’t want to think about that tonight. He and Kendall had never been happier, so what did it matter that she’d once left him? He hadn’t tried to stop her. The truth of the matter was he’d been relieved when she walked out on their marriage.
That had been a long time ago. Things were different now. They were different.
And yet there were times, such as earlier tonight before they’d left the hotel, when Graham sensed that maybe everything between them wasn’t as perfect as he wanted to believe. Sometimes, when Kendall didn’t know he was around, he’d see a look come over her face. Sad, pensive…lost. Graham tried to chalk it up to her past. She didn’t talk much about her family, but he knew she’d had a difficult childhood and a troubled adolescence. He’d never pressed for details. He wasn’t keen on airing his dirty laundry, either, but at times, he still felt as if he’d barely scratched the surface of who she really was.
“I love you. You know that, right?”
She turned. Was it his imagination or did her smile seem tentative? Wistful? “I love you, too.” She lifted her hand to trace his jawline. “It’s going to be okay.”
His heart did a funny little somersault against his chest. “What is?”
“Tonight,” she said, but there was a slight hesitation before she answered.
He nodded and managed a smile although suddenly his mouth had gone dry. Something was going on with her. Something she didn’t feel she could share with him.
“Kendall?”
“Yes?”
“Are you sure the earth moved?”
She punched his shoulder. “Forget it. We’re not having a quickie on the rooftop to stroke your ego when there’s a whole roomful of people waiting downstairs to tell you how wonderful you are.”
“Not the same thing at all.”
“Seriously, Graham. I’m so proud of you,” she said,
her eyes suddenly glistening.
That was another thing that had Graham a little concerned. Kendall had been so emotional these past few days. He had no idea what that was all about, and she didn’t seem to want to tell him.
“All right,” he said reluctantly. “You’ve convinced me. I suppose we should go downstairs and at least make an appearance.”
She nodded. “I need to freshen up first. My hair must be a mess.”
“You look beautiful.”
“I never look beautiful,” she said with a resigned shrug that always broke his heart.
He resisted the urge to trace one of the scars on her face with his fingertip, but she wouldn’t like that. Since the last surgery, the imperfections were barely even visible, but she knew they were there. And even after all this time, she was still a little self-conscious in social situations.
To Graham, though, she would always be beautiful.
She started for the elevator, but he caught her arm and she turned back. “What is it?”
He gazed into her eyes. “Are you happy? With me, I mean.”
Her lips trembled and for a moment, he thought she was going to cry. Instead she smiled and lifted herself on her tiptoes to remove his glasses before she kissed him.
“Being with you is like being in heaven,” she whispered.
“YOU’RE ONE lucky bastard, Graham. I hope you know that.”
Graham nodded as he surveyed the glittering crowd that had assembled to celebrate the post-construction phase of the PemCo Tower. “I’m doing okay.”
“Doing okay?” Michael Barron, his best friend since their college days at Rice University, clapped him on the back. “I think most folks would say you’re doing a little better than okay. Gorgeous wife. Big house. Your own company. And now this…” His blue eyes twinkled. “You’re living the dream, buddy.”
Texas Ransom Page 1