Invisibility Cloak

  It didn’t take long before the door swung open and a woman in a tight purple mini was looking him over.

  “Well, halloooo there,” the blond bombshell slurred out, hands on her hips of the snug fitting dress. “What can I dooo for yoooou?”

  “Ma’am.” Ryder nodded. Must be one of those nights. This woman’s speech was just like Amanda’s earlier and he grinned; couldn’t help it.

  “What brings you here . . .” she hiccupped then finished, “. . . Handsome?” Leaning forward she tilted her head up and raised her eyebrows at him.

  Ryder instinctively reached his right hand out worried she’d topple over because she was amply endowed and her chest was leading the way.

  When she stumbled forward, he stepped up to her and placed both hands on her elbows to steady her.

  “Oopsy!” The woman automatically reached both hands out and they landed around his waist. “Why thank you,” she said looking up him as she swayed between his hands. “What . . .” She raised her brows and hiccupped, again. “What was your name?”

  “Ryder Stevenson, ma’am.” Ryder dropped his hands and took a step back, so that her arms dropped away from his waist.

  “Bambi?” A male voice called out behind the woman as clipped footsteps came down the hallway. “Bambi? What are you doing?”

  “Over heres, honey,” She mumbled looking over her shoulder, then turned back to him and smiled. “So Ryder . . .” She giggled and wagged her eyebrows at him.

  “Bambi?” Parker Edgington, dressed casually in camel colored slacks and a burgundy cashmere pullover, came up behind the curvy woman and placed his hands on her shoulders. “You should have let Gerald get the door, darling.”

  “Ohs, I was right heres,” she gushed out.

  “Mr. Edgington.” Ryder stepped forward and offered his hand. “Ryder Stevenson.”

  “Yes? What is this about?” Edgington lowered his brows and shook his hand.

  “Mr. Edgington, I’m conducting an investigation and I was hoping you could give me some information.”

  “Well, in that case, come on in and have a drinkie-poo with us.” Bambi grabbed Ryder’s hand and led him inside the house.

  “An investigation?” Parker Edgington asked as they walked into the cathedral ceilinged room. “What type of investigation?” He walked up to the bar. “The usual, Bambi?” Parker turned to look at the woman who fussed over Ryder.

  “Yes, please.” Bambi led Ryder to the dark brown leather sofa facing a large marble fireplace. “What can I get you, Ryder Ste―?” She hiccupped. “Ryder?”

  “Nothing, thank you.” He opened his black leather jacket as he sat down. Turning his attention toward Parker Edgington, he asked, “I need some information about your ex-wife.”

  “Marlee?” Edgington frowned. “What has she done now?”

  “No sir, Sophia.”

  Edgington’s face paled. “What type of information?” His knuckles turned white as they gripped his whiskey glass.

  Ryder wanted to put the man at ease, so he altered the facts just a little. Sure, he’d already installed the new system, but Parker Edgington doesn’t know that. “I’m installing a security system in Mrs. Edgington’s home and―”

  “Why is Sophia putting in a new one?” Parker growled. “Damn woman just loves to spend my money.”

  Interesting response. “Sir, your children will be protected and benefit from the new system.”

  “The only one that needs protecting is me.” Parker downed the rest of his whiskey and stared at the empty glass in his hand.

  “Beg pardon, Sir?” Ryder narrowed his eyes and watched Edgington’s gestures. “It almost sounds like you’re frightened of her.”

  Parker hunched up his shoulders and said to Bambi, “Darling, go get us some food, will you?”

  “Okie Dokie, Parker Avenue.” Bambi giggled while she walked unsteadily from the room.

  Parker filled up his glass again before he turned to Ryder. “I’d like to know why you’re really here. I didn’t want Bambi to hear us. She doesn’t know anything.” Parker grunted. “Hell, she can’t cook an egg. She’ll be gone for the rest of the night.” The wealthy man sat down on the couch and the leather squeaked quietly. “She’s good for one thing.” Cocking his eyebrow at Ryder, he said. “And she’s damn good at it, that’s why I keep her around.”

  “Is she your wife?” Ryder asked.

  “Hell no!” He stood and walked back over to the bar. “Won’t make that mistake again. Marlee and Sophia cured me of that.” Parker poured two fingers of whiskey into his glass. “I made a fool of myself with them both. I won’t do that again.”

  “How so, sir?” Grinding his teeth together, he wondered how much more vague the man could be with his comments. Ryder’s gut instinct told him this guy was ready to burst with information, so he tried to be patient.

  “Sophia is a beauty. And I was bowled over by her loveliness.” He sipped at his glass and said quietly, “And . . . she had certain skills . . .” Parker tilted his head and lowered his eyelids. “Well, let me just say for the record, she was good. She learned her trade well.”

  “Not sure what your implying here, Mr. Edgington.” He was making his ex-wife sound like a prostitute.

  “Sophia used me to gain U.S. Citizenship for her and her children.” Parker downed the rest of the amber liquid in his tumbler. “I’m not saying anymore. I don’t want Castillo or anyone else to rip my tongue out. Let’s just say Sophia put me in a precarious spot. I’m just glad she’s out of my life.” He set his empty glass on the bar top and looked somberly at him. “I don’t want anyone climbing all over my ass because of what I told you.”

  “Fair enough―” Ryder wanted to get more concrete facts, but Bambi cut him off.

  “Hey, Parks.” Bambi walked back in the room with a tray balanced on her right hand. “How’s this for food, sweetie?”

  Edgington directed his attention to her and lifted his eyebrows. “Ah, darling. What do you have there?”

  “Ritz and slices of cheddar cheese.” She stood in front of them both with a broad smile. “And Parks . . . I didn’t drop the tray once on the way here!”

  But then Bambi swayed a little too far to the right so Ryder jumped over by her side to catch the tray before it fell on the floor. Bambi giggled and walked near Parker. Ryder set the cheese and crackers on the table in front of the sofa.

  “That’s all I have for you,” Edgington said before they both sat down on the couch and began nibbling on the food.

  He’d realized that was all the information he was going to get here. “Thank you, Mr. Edgington.” Ryder walked toward the front door, but turned around before he left the room. “And Bambi. Thank you. Have a pleasant evening.”

  Well that wasn’t a total loss.

  Ryder stepped on the accelerator as he sped out of “The Edge”. Obviously, Sophia’s ex-husband harbored ill feelings to her; that came across loud and clear. So Sophia wanted American citizenship, but many do when born and raised across the border, nothing unusual there. Parker just confirmed what the other couples at the Harbor Falls Country Club alluded to as well. Seemed she grew up south of the border and she wanted out. But the ex-husband bothered him. And it wasn’t Parker. Alejandro Castillo. Was he an ex of Sophia’s? Had to be. Obviously Edgington was afraid of him, hell anybody would be scared.

  As one of the Mexican Cartel leaders, Alejandro Castillo was one mean hombre. He smuggled anything for money across the border. A few ICE agents were bitching about the SOB just last week. They’d intercepted a truckload of young girls just outside the border, lured from the U.S. Most were runaways, but some were kidnapped victims. These young girls were expected to be added to the huge prostitution ring Castillo operated. Some of the pieces started to fit together.

  Time to ta
lk to Smeth. His tongue curled in his mouth even thinking the guy’s name, but Ryder was pretty sure Jeffrey knew more than he let on.

  Pulling into the upscale condominium complex, Landmark Towers, Ryder was thankful he wouldn’t need to pass through a security gate. Glancing down at his phone, he narrowed his eyes to read the street address. Very sleek units. He’d actually looked at a few floor plans here before he got his place. But the atmosphere was too pretentious―for him anyway. Just how in hell did Smeth afford this? How did the jerk actually make a living? Turning down a street called Wandering Way, he studied the curb for the numbers until he found Five-Two-Six-One etched in front of the single units.

  He circled once and parked a short ways down. Staying low, his feet padded silently to the side and back of the house first, to see if Smeth was even home. Checking his watch, he noticed it was ten o’clock. Would he even be home or did he go back to the Harbor Falls Country Club?

  "¡Basta! Usted me ha fallado, Jeffrey!" A man said heatedly, but loud enough that Ryder could hear through the window.

  Enough! You failed me, Jeffrey! Ryder mentally translated the words in his head. So Smeth pissed off someone other than him. A fluently speaking Spanish man.

  Ryder stood on the balls of his feet looking through Smeth’s window. Who the hell was he?

  Jeffrey raked a hand through his brown hair and glared at the man seated in front of him. “I did exactly what you asked. But I won’t do anymore.”

  “Por lo tanto, ¿por qué debo mantener, a continuación,” came the quick response.

  So why should I keep you around, then?

  “Because we go way back and you need me, Alejandro.” Smeth smiled with confidence that wasn’t there a moment ago.

  Something was going down.

  “Usted ni siquiera podía mantener Amanda Harris bajo control.”

  You couldn't even keep Amanda Harris under control.

  “I tried,” Smeth grumbled. “But I really don’t think she’s interested in me as much as she is in Stevenson.” He closed his eyes and shuddered dramatically. “Talk about the commando type.” Jeffrey looked over at the man seated in front of him pointing out, “Even though I tried, it was only after I told her Ryder was already going to the Dinner Dance with Sophia . . .” Smeth shook his head before finishing. “That she agreed to even go with me.”

  The dark haired man only grunted and leaned back against the chair while swirling the glass of brandy in his hand.

  “I’m just as good-looking as Ryder,” Jeffrey insisted before asking, “what does he have that I don’t?” Inhaling, Jeffrey admitted, “So, okay other than muscles and that intense look. I know he isn’t rich.”

  Smeth was comparing himself to him? He’d be laughing his ass off right now, but he didn’t want anyone to know he was here.

  “Why should I keep you alive?” The man threatening Smeth asked haltingly in English as he walked over to pour more brandy into his glass at the bar. When the man turned around exposing his face, Ryder swore under his breath. Alejandro Castillo.

  Holy Shit. And he looked pissed. Ryder hadn’t ever seen the Mexican Drug Lord in person, only from photos on the television or newspaper. Castillo’s pitted face scowled as two thugs came up on either side of him and he barked out, “¿Tiene las letras.”

  Do you have the letters? Everyone sure wants those damn letters.

  “Alejandro, calm down.” Smeth said evenly.

  “No! Quiero que la capa de invisibilidad y las letras!” Castillo pulled a knife out of his back waistband and lunged at Smeth. “Geeve me a reezon to keep you alive, Gringo.” Castillo laid the blade against Jeffrey’s cheek.

  “No!” Smeth’s eyes bugged out of his head and his face lost all its color. “You still need me, please!”

  Castillo flicked his hand at Jeffrey and his two thugs grabbed both of Smeth’s arms.

  “So,” Alejandro said shortly and pushed the point of the knife in his cheek until it broke the skin. Castillo angled his head at Jeffrey and ground out again, “So.”

  “Alejandro, please!” Jeffrey pulled his chin down trying to get away from the knife. His eyes darted between Castillo and the knife the Drug Lord had indented into his face.

  “Por lo tanto, ¿dónde está la mujer”

  So. Where is the woman?

  The hairs on the back of Ryder’s neck stood straight up. Amanda.

  “Probably at home,” Jeffrey muttered.

  “You have nothiiiiiiiiing!” Castillo pushed the knife deeper until Jeffrey squealed and said to his two bodyguards, “Show him around Canelo Hills.”

  “No!” Smeth cried pushing his hand against his bloody cheek.

  Castillo waved off his goons as they carried off a sobbing Jeffrey Smeth. Ryder heard Smeth’s struggles and grunts as the two thugs dragged him through his home. When the front door slammed violently, Ryder realized he was done here and turned to leave.

  “Was that really necessary, Castillo?” A deep baritone voice asked.

  Who the hell was that? He stopped in his tracks. Ryder had no idea there was someone else in the room until now. A man stepped out from the shadows and faced Alejandro Castillo with his hands clasped behind his back.

  General Holmes.

  I’ll be damned. Ryder shook his head.

  A top government official in cahoots with a sleazy Drug Lord? All for money. And power. Can’t forget the most alluring aphrodisiac of them all. He’d seen it plenty before.

  Nothing new here. Time to get back to his house to make sure Amanda was safe and still asleep in his bed. Carefully extracting his body away from the open window, Ryder walked to his Jeep. When he rounded the corner of Smeth’s townhome, he saw a dark SUV tear off down the street.

  Smeth deserved everything he had coming to him and more, especially if he was involved with Castillo, Ryder reasoned.

  Christ. He swore to himself and hopped into his Jeep Cherokee, following Alejandro’s thugs down Highway 83. He had no idea why in the hell he was going to help Smeth out, but here he was, turning down Red Rock Road a few miles behind him. He’d already formulated a plan of some sorts―beat the shit out of them. But he did need the element of surprise.

  Staying well behind the big SUV, he followed it down the desolate road and killed the lights. He didn’t have to drive far before they pulled off into a small trail. Ryder rolled down his window and turned the car off.

  “Out!” A car door slammed then one of them said to Smeth. “Gringo, we are going to have some fun with yoooouuu.”

  After the car coasted to a stop, he eased his door open, following the men’s low murmurs and Smeth’s panicked voice.

  The night creatures’ sounds barely halted at the cars intrusion.

  “No! What are going to do to me?”

  “First we cut off your fingers and if you still do not tell us what we want to know . . .” A muffled laughter tinkled the air. “Then we cut off your hand and then your arm and then bit by bit we get what we want.”

  “No!” Jeffrey’s hollow shriek echoed through the dark. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know. Just don’t cut anything!”

  Ryder thought he’d wait to get some Intel from Smeth before he intervened, but the guy was crying like a five-year-old kid.

  Oh Hell. When he couldn’t take any more sobbing, he crept up and positioned himself behind the first man guarding the perimeter. Instead of keeping a lookout, the guard was pounding a pack of cigarettes against his palm. Yanking one hand out, he grabbed the big guy’s head and pushed with his other hand against the thug’s temple. The guard slumped to the ground. Slip and Slide.

  “No!!!” Jeffrey wailed into the quiet night a few feet away.

  Ryder saw the other guy positioning his knife to cut off Smeth’s index finger.

  Ry
der stalked up behind the thug and whispered in his ear. “What do you think you’re doing?” Hey, he knew it was a sick use of power, but he hadn’t had this much fun in years.

  The burly guy craned his neck around. “Huh?”

  Ryder elbowed him in his Adams Apple and he shrugged to the ground instantly.

  When Ryder glanced over at Jeffrey, he had his eyes closed and it looked like he was praying. Until he opened his eyes and saw Ryder.

  “Oh, Stevenson!” Smeth sagged over. “I never thought I’d say this, but . . .” Sarcasm laced every single one of Jeffrey’s words. “I’m so damn glad to see you, I could kiss you.”

  “The feeling is definitely not mutual. Besides, I had to do something.” Ryder sneered at him. “You were embarrassing the male species with your crying. Actually I’d like to string you up by your balls and let the buzzards come for you, but they’d probably spit you out, you scumbag.” He yanked on Smeth’s ropes that bound his hands. “I want to know just what is going down here. And I want to know yesterday.”

  “What? Jeffrey rolled his eyes and coughed out, “So, Conan the Barbarian hasn’t figured it out, yet?”

  “Cut the crap.” Ryder jerked on his bindings again. “I’m not letting you go until I get some answers.”