by Karen Anders
“I don’t use women. I just enjoy their company and then move on.”
Well, he couldn’t say it plainer than that, even though it hurt. She was a big girl and had known what...okay, she hadn’t known exactly how amazing it would be with him, but she’d known his boundaries. She respected them and really it couldn’t be better that he felt that way. It made it easier on her.
So why was her heart aching so hard?
There was no more time to worry about their personal relationship. The GPS tracker squawked and let them know they’d reached their destination.
The clinic was an oblong structure and Kinley realized that it was more of a health clinic than a place where people came for plastic surgery.
Beau parked the car.
“Kinley,” he said. She loved the way he said her name with that slight accent making it sound incredibly exotic. There was way too much she loved about Beau.
“I get it, Beau. Don’t worry about me. I understand and you were quite clear. Temporary. I’ve got my career to focus on. That’s really what matters to me.” She didn’t want to examine her feelings for Beau anymore.
Whatever he’d been about to say died on his lips. With a stiff nod, he opened his door and slipped out of the coupe. There, that should allay his fears about her wanting anything...even if she did. But that was stupid fairy-tale stuff.
Her shoulders drooped a bit and she took a deep steadying breath. It was time to get this information from the good doctor and get the hell of out of Cuba.
Inside, the clinic was clean, neat and well maintained. The woman behind the reception desk looked up as they walked in. “¿En què puedo servirles?” She was very pretty with long dark hair and wide chocolate-brown eyes.
Beau smiled and approached the desk, introducing himself and including her. She smiled and said something in Spanish. Beau nodded. “We’d like to see him now. It’s very important.”
The woman picked up the phone and spoke, then hung up and motioned for them to follow her. They trailed her past the waiting area. The people in the waiting room were an odd mix. Some well dressed, others shabby. Clean, but it was clear they were quite poor. She disappeared through a door that opened up to a hallway with examination rooms on either side. When she got to the end of the hall, to a closed door, she knocked before opening it and ushered them inside.
Dr. Costa rose from behind his desk. He was a compact man, balding with a fringe of salt and pepper hair cut close to his scalp. He wore a white lab coat and a stethoscope was draped around his neck.
“Mr. and Mrs. Nadeau?” he said in beautifully accented English. “Welcome. Please be seated.”
“This isn’t exactly the kind of establishment I was expecting. But, at least it’s clean,” Kinley said, still playing her role.
“Sweetheart,” Beau said in an indulgent way.
“My clinic serves many, Ms. Nadeau, and I am a certified doctor as well as quite skilled with cosmetic surgery. What can I do to help you?” His pleasant smile didn’t waver even in the wake of her rudeness.
“I want some work done.”
Dr. Costa studied her for a moment, and then sighed. “Are you certain, senora?” He came out from behind the desk and faced her. “May I?” he asked. She nodded.
He tipped up her chin and turned it both right and left, studying all the planes and angles. Then he released her.
“I cannot augment what is already quite perfect. You have the bone structure of a goddess and an uncommon beauty. I wouldn’t touch your face no matter how much you paid me. I simply cannot help you.”
“What?” she said, looking at Beau and laughing softly. “Goddess?” This isn’t what she’d expected of a greedy man who took black-market jobs for the money. But nothing was ever as it seemed and ruthless men always found ways to get others to do what they wanted.
“Actually, Doctor, I have to agree with you,” Beau said, steel replacing the bored-CEO look in his eyes. “Since you can’t help with my wife’s plastic surgery, perhaps there is something else you could help us with?”
He looked puzzled for a moment, going back behind his desk and sitting down. “What would that be, senor?”
“Diego Montoya.”
Dr. Costa stiffened and sat forward. “I don’t know anyone by that name.”
The fear in his voice underlined the lie.
“Who are you people?”
“We’re people looking for photographs of Montoya. The before and after, if you get my drift.”
“Americans. CIA?”
He reached for the phone, but Beau pressed down on the receiver before he could lift it.
“We can do this easy, Dr. Costa, or we can do this hard. Me, I like the easy.”
He sat back, torn and terrified. “Who did he threaten in your family, Miguel?” Kinley said, going with her gut.
He looked at her sharply and rubbed his hand over his bald pate.
“That...monster, that...criminal, threatened my beloved Maria. My wife. I had to do what he asked. But I destroyed all evidence of it just as he ordered. I’m sorry, but I cannot help you. I would ask that you leave my clinic and not return.”
She planted her hands on his desk and leaned forward. “I know what it’s like to lose someone to a terrorist. I don’t buy it. You kept insurance.”
His lips thinned.
“He’s a threat to the United States. He’s murdered innocent people. As a doctor, how can you let that sit on your conscience while he’s free to perpetuate even more heinous acts on even more innocent people? Husbands, wives, children?”
He rose and went to the window, obviously torn. “I hate these men who make my country into a...a conduit for drugs, a place that shelters murderers and cutthroats. Men with money who think they are above the law.” He rubbed at his forehead, his voice thick. “He came to me because I am the best. He threatened me when I refused, and when I still refused, he threatened her. I hate that he made me use my skills to mask him. To protect him from the law and the cartel who’s hunting him like the dog he is.”
“Dr. Costa. We need your help.”
He turned back to them. “I can’t risk her. She is everything to me.”
“If you give us the means by which to capture him, he will no longer be a threat to you or your wife.”
That made him pause. It was apparent that apprehending Diego Montoya appealed to him very much. Dr. Costa was no black marketer for hire. That was evident. “You are not only a very beautiful woman, but a very persuasive one. I must think about this and consult with my wife. That is the only answer I can give you at this moment. Come back at closing and I’ll give you my answer.”
“Dr. Costa...”
“Beau.” She put her hand on his arm and he shifted his gaze to hers. After a moment, he stepped toward the door. “At closing, then. I know you will do the right thing.”
Outside, Beau snagged her arm. “That was a nice bit of tap dancing in there, but I hope you know what you’re doing. We’re on a timeline here and if he decides to say no, we’re going to have to push and he knows it. He could run.”
“He won’t run.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because this is his home and he’s dedicated his life to helping these people. He’s nothing like we thought. Did you see the patients in that waiting room? They’re local and they’re poor. I’m banking that he’s a good man caught in a bad situation. He’ll do the right thing, Beau. Trust me.”
It started to rain again as they got back into the Mercedes. Beau pulled his handgun from the small of his back, checked his clip and slammed it home, chambering a round and reholstering the weapon. “I’m going to watch the back. You stay here and keep an eye on the front. Call me if you see anything suspicious.”
She grabbed his arm before he exited the
vehicle. “Thank you.”
“What for?” he growled, obviously frustrated that they had to wait around.
“Trusting me.”
He flashed her a wry grin. “I just want to do this the easy way.”
He slipped out of the vehicle and headed into the thick, dense growth of the jungle butting up to the rear of Costa’s clinic.
It was only two hours before the clinic was set to close.
She changed into a pair of jeans and a dark T-shirt, donning slip-on canvas sneakers that she’d kept stored in case of emergencies. She wanted to be ready to run for the chopper when the time came. An hour of waiting had passed and the rain had gotten more intense. It was sheeting across the windshield when Kinley heard a number of vehicles turning into the clinic’s makeshift parking lot, three Jeeps with four men in each of them, looking way too paramilitary for her comfort. One of them got out of the vehicle. Kinley ducked down, hoping the rain would obscure her inside. Luckily he didn’t see her.
But she saw clearly the tattoo on his neck, right below his lobe.
Two crossed swords.
Holy crap. She hit Beau’s number and when he picked up, she said, “Las Espadas are going in the front door.”
As the men filed in, bristling with weapons, people started running out.
“How many?”
“Twelve. Too many.”
“I’m going for the doctor. I can see his window from here. We’ll be coming in hot.”
“All right. I’ll fire up the coupe and be ready.” She reached for the green bag. She thought she’d grabbed... Yes, here it was. A tracker. She slipped out of the vehicle and was soaked in seconds. Running to the lead Jeep, she jammed her hand underneath the wheel well and stuck the device to the metal. The crack-crack of automatic gunfire mixed in with the sound of the pouring rain. The screams and sobbing of a woman filtered out to her. Backing up, she ran back to the car and started it up.
Before Kinley could put the Mercedes in gear, the front door opened and the men came out. They were dragging a sobbing woman. The receptionist.
Even as she watched them drive away, there was a weird stillness all around, an eerie calm. It seemed as if even the rain paused. It was a pulling sensation in the air around her.
Then the building blew apart, a great crashing, rending explosion that rocked the car and sent debris up into the air to rain down on the vehicle. Kinley was safely cocooned inside as the blast whooshed with such force it rocked the coupe, the diminished concussion rolling over her. Even with the downpour, fire erupted as the debris continued to fall in heavy, soggy clumps.
Oh, God, Beau.
He had gone inside to get Dr. Costa.
Chapter 15
“Beau!”
He came to, sputtering; rain running in a small stream off some kind of siding on top of him. He was lying flat on his back in the dark, buried under debris, with Kinley’s frantic voice beating out even the rushing, roaring sound of the rain.
“Here,” he said hoarsely, weakly, his ears ringing and his head vibrating like a frigging bell. What the hell had happened?
He heard running feet, but he couldn’t move, still dazed, still reeling from getting mown over by hundreds of pounds of explosive pressure that had cleaned his clock but good.
The sound of the stuff on top of him being pulled away was coupled with her harsh, out-of-control breathing. Finally, he could see the sky and her face leaning over him.
“Oh, God, Beau. Are you okay. Are you hurt?”
“I’m okay. What happened?”
She reached in and helped him to sit up, her hands going over him, still pushing stuff out of the way. “They left and took the receptionist and then the whole building went up.”
His chest hurt a bit, but everything seemed to be in working order. The blast had just knocked him out.
“Dammit,” he swore. He should be damn glad he hadn’t already been inside when the building exploded.
“You were right. We shouldn’t have waited. It was the Las Espadas. They found out about Dr. Costa.”
He rolled to his side, curled up and pushed himself to his hands and knees. He put one hand to his forehead before she helped him get unsteadily to his feet. He felt gut punched and behind that, bearing down on him like a friggin’ freight train, was the anger. Beau did not like to lose or be outsmarted and outmaneuvered. “They took the receptionist?”
“Yes, she was not going willingly and she was crying hard.”
Beau looked toward the building, pushing his wet hair off his face. Without a word, he started toward it, his head clearing. When he got to the wall that was now complete rubble, he put up his hand to ward off the intense heat of the fire. The rain was doing a good job of keeping it at bay. He stepped over the small lip of the wall that was intact and peered inside.
There was a body with a hole in the forehead. The lab coat was filthy and covered in blood, the stethoscope still around his neck.
He turned away, blocking the view as Kinley made it to him. “Dr. Costa is dead.”
Her eyes stricken with guilt, she said, “Well, that’s it then. We failed and it’s my fault.”
“What?”
“We failed, Beau.”
“Not yet.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“We go after her. They had to have taken her for a reason. She must know something.” Water sluiced off his face and trailed down his arms. The jungle was going to be a muddy mess.
“What?” Her eyes widened and she grabbed his forearm. “Go into the jungle after an army of ruthless cartel goons? Are you out of your mind?”
“No. We can get her back. There were only twelve men. I can handle that.”
She stepped back and glared at him. “We were expressly forbidden to engage the Las Espadas! We can’t go after them.”
“Do you know what they’re going to do to her? They’re going to torture her and once they get her to talk—and believe me, they will get her to talk—they’re going to kill her. Are you seriously telling me we should walk away when the life of this woman and the security of the US hang in the balance?”
“They were orders, Beau.”
“And that’s enough for you to turn your back on a terrorist threat? I know that you care about terrorists because one murdered your father. In addition, you were just in the cartel’s hands, helpless just like she is now.” He had no way of knowing whether or not Montoya was a threat, but he was going to err on the side of caution. And, yeah, he was being a sumbitch. He knew it and, judging by the tightening in her face, she knew it, too.
“Orders,” she repeated, her mouth tightening. “Using my father’s murder against me is not fair, Beau.” She bit her lip, the battle of her conscience and her experience warring on her face. “I’m not ignorant or immune to what I know they’re going to do to her. But...orders are orders.”
He ignored the emotion in her eyes. This was too important for him not to bring out the big guns. Her hair was plastered to her head. Her makeup was long gone. She had a bruise on her face from her ordeal yesterday. She was trembling and wired as tight as a drum. And all that emotion had to go somewhere. She’d never been more beautiful to him in her life.
“Where is that woman that wanted to take down el Ajeer? If we don’t do this, Montoya is free to do whatever he wants, unleash whatever he has planned on American soil. Do you want that on your conscience? Do you want her torture and death on your conscience when we could have done something about it?”
“No, of course not! But it’s suicide and career ending to go against orders, to go into an unfamiliar jungle in a foreign land after armed men without a plan or permission from our superiors!”
“Kinley, I’ve made a living going into unfamiliar places and taking down armed men. I’m not
asking for permission. I don’t ask for permission. I complete a mission, whatever it takes.”
She folded her arms against her chest.
He didn’t realize how much he wanted her to step out of her comfort zone and go with him. “Montoya might even have information on el Ajeer. He works for the cartel. He’s their damn go-to guy. I bet he knows plenty about el Ajeer.”
“I know what you’re doing. You’re playing on my emotions.”
“All in, Kinley.” He wanted her on this. He needed her on this all the damn way. Yeah, right, he was a goner for sure, even though he knew she was more interested in her career than she was in him. That had stung. He’d racked up all of three days with this woman, but somehow it meant something.
He’d been just about to spill his guts and she’d cut him off at the knees. He figured it was always better to know than to be in the dark.
She looked away. He shoved back his disappointment and started to walk toward the front of the building. “We’re wasting time. Why don’t you go to the extraction site and wait for me.”
She grabbed his arm, trying to slow his forward momentum. Her small hands and petite body couldn’t stop him, but the anguish in her voice did. He stopped and rounded on her.
“Damn you, Beau. I’m not going to leave and let you do this alone. We’re supposed to be a team and we’ve already lost Daniel. We had to leave him. I’m not leaving you.”
Her voice caught and he dragged her against him, hard. “Kinley, we can’t waste time. I don’t want to be insensitive.” The truth of the matter was a world of feelings had opened up for him. Not because they were dancing on the edge of a knife, trying to complete a mission that just got damned-near impossible, but because with each moment he was showing her what was beneath his rock-hard shield. A side of himself he’d buried a while ago. She was giving him back something he’d lost.