Santerra's Sin: A Loveswept Classic Romance

by Donna Kauffman

  She looked up.

  The Jeep rolled to a stop just a few feet shy of the highway.

  “Something wrong, Blue?”

  There were too many responses to his casually asked question. And right now she felt anything but casual about all of them.

  Are you a killer?

  “Why did you come out here today?”

  His brow furrowed a bit, her only clue that her question had not been the expected one. Which begged the question What had he expected her to ask him?

  “That’s fairly obvious.”

  “Saving the boss’s butt is not in your job description.”

  She felt his attention on her sharpen.

  “You didn’t have to come out here,” she went on. “Tejo could have gotten a number of people to do it. Especially if the cantina is as crowded as you say.”

  “I offered. He took me up on it.”

  “You should have stayed in the kitchen.”

  “You’re welcome, no problem.”

  Blue’s cheeks heated. She hadn’t exactly been gracious.

  But wasn’t there something a bit weird about thanking the man who might be out to kill you? What etiquette rules applied in this sort of situation? Gee, thank you, and oh, by the way, you weren’t out here trying to kill me, were you?

  Then again, when the hell had she cared about etiquette? Or rules for that matter.

  But Alethea’s constant nagging apparently hadn’t been a total waste of time. “I’m sorry. Thank you for driving out here. I do appreciate it. I’ll put you on the clock for your time.”

  “It was a favor, Blue. No payback necessary.” He didn’t return his attention to the road. It was focused totally on her.

  Formidable was the word that came to mind. Unusual for a cook.

  But not for a killer.

  “Suit yourself,” she said finally. Her temples began to throb.

  She heard him mouth something under his breath. If only I could.

  But before she could think it through, he checked his rearview mirror and pulled the Jeep onto the highway. Heading in the wrong direction.

  Head pounding and adrenaline still zinging, she worked hard to keep calm. “The cantina is that way.” She pointed to her right.

  “I know.”

  There was a hard edge to his voice she’d never heard before.

  Striving to stay cool, she said, “Well, if the cantina is as packed as you predicted, maybe we’d better head that way now.”

  He wasn’t gunning it, but they weren’t crawling along either.

  “You need to get the trailer. I have a hitch.”

  His words were calm, completely casual. She glanced at his hands. They were relaxed on the wheel.

  Then why did she get the feeling he was screaming with tension?

  Mind tricks. Leroy’s wild story had obviously taken deep root.

  She glanced in her rearview mirror. There was a dark car behind them. But it was so far back, it was more a shimmering mirage in the heat emanating from the blacktop than any threat. Real or imagined.

  “How do you know where the trailer is? I never told you.” She studied him now, wondering if she should have challenged him.

  “There is only one garage near Villa Roja and it’s located on the way to Taos. I just assumed that’s where it was.”

  A coincidence? Logical conclusion?

  “Well, as it turns out, you are right. My friend the mechanic owns the garage. He’s a biker too. We ride together sometimes. I’m sure he won’t mind.”

  “Fine. We can hook the trailer up now. I can go back out later when things die down and pick it up for you.”

  “I told you, I’ll take Tejo’s truck.”

  “No sense in hooking it up twice. Besides, I imagine you’ll get caught up in the local hoopla. I can go. No problem.”

  Blue should feel relieved. But she didn’t. A glance in the rearview mirror showed the black car had closed the distance slightly.

  Was it her continued out-of-control imagination, or was Diego checking his rear mirror a bit more often than habit called for?

  “If it’s dark, maybe we should wait till tomorrow.”

  “I thought you didn’t want to leave it out there. I can get there between the afternoon and night shift.”

  She felt the Jeep increase in speed. The black sedan was still closing in on them.

  “You might want to slow down, the garage is just ahead.”

  Diego nodded but kept his foot firmly on the gas. It was clear that Blue hadn’t dismissed Leroy’s warning. She’d also begun to wonder if the only new person in her life might be a threat to her safety. To her very life. But he couldn’t worry about diminishing her suspicions at the moment.

  When John had called to tell him that his tire had blown and he’d lost Blue on her hell ride into the desert, Diego had assured him he knew where she was and was on his way to get her. Then John dropped the real bomb. Word had come to him just moments before leaving on his wild chase that some Miami talent was on its way to audition for Hermes Jacounda in New Mexico.

  Diego flashed another quick glance to the outside rearview mirror. Would any of Jacounda’s boys be so blatant and obvious about their choice of transportation? A black sedan? Or was Hermes sending Del—and by association, Diego—a message? We’re coming to get her and we don’t care who knows it?

  With Jacounda, it was likely the latter. And that meant life was about to get real interesting for Blue and her new cook.

  Diego let his foot off the gas, but they were still going at a pretty fast clip as they came to the garage. At the last possible moment Diego pulled hard on the wheel and whipped the Jeep into the lot. He pulled to a stop away from the building and the two pumps, which were surprisingly modern considering the overall dilapidated appearance of the place.

  Blue had one foot out the door before the dust settled.

  The black sedan slowed down. Then flipped on its turn signal.

  Polite talent, Diego thought.

  He didn’t glance at Blue, but felt her shift her weight, preparing to jump down.

  “Stay here for a minute.”

  He saw her turn from the corner of his eye.

  “What?”

  The driver pulled the sedan into the garage slowly, as if this had been his destination the whole time. And maybe it had been. Which was why Diego had made sure to park as clear from both the pumps and the building as possible.

  “I said stay in the Jeep for a minute.” He hadn’t taken his eyes off the sedan. She was looking at it now too.

  “Friends of yours? Trouble catching up with you, perhaps?”

  She sounded almost relieved at that possibility. He decided to let her be. It suited both of his purposes for the moment.

  “Just stay here for a minute.”

  He took her long sigh as an agreement and slid out of the Jeep. No one had exited the sedan, which was pulled up to the diesel pump. The sedan wasn’t a diesel.

  Diego felt the empty sheath on his hip. John had managed to retrieve his knife from the sheriff’s department, but he’d kept it for the time being. Carrying around a weapon that had been placed at a crime scene was not a good idea.

  Diego put his hand on his belt buckle, casually releasing the lock guard on the knife it contained. It was much smaller than his usual weapon of choice, and not balanced for throwing. But it did give him another element of surprise in hand-to-hand combat.

  The driver’s door to the sedan opened as Diego stepped farther out into the open area between the pumps and the building. If there was a mechanic or attendant on duty, they hadn’t shown their faces.

  Wise choice.

  A tall, very stocky man with no neck and perfectly cut pinstripes clambered out of the car. Diego whistled silently. A shame to mess up such a nice suit. If things went smoothly, he wouldn’t have to.

  The big man’s face was wide, hard-angled, and otherwise nondescript. His eyes were hidden behind black Wayfarers. Diego didn’t need to see t
hem. The color may vary, but he’d seen the eyes of this man and a hundred other like him. They were all the same. Stone cold and empty.

  Diego was very familiar with the look. It was the same one watching him shave every morning.

  Diego walked easily, casually, to the pump island, staying behind the car. He reached for the window squeegee and snagged a few paper towels, keeping No Neck in his peripheral vision the entire time.

  It was a calculated risk putting himself out in the open and leaving Blue unattended in the Jeep. But John was due in shortly with a tire needing repair.

  Better to find out who they were dealing with now, when he was controlling the situation.

  A smaller, skinny man was in the passenger side of the car. He had short, curly black hair and an acne-scarred face. Diego could almost feel the wired energy emanating from the little man. He also recognized him. Jimmy D. Freelance killer.

  No one would look at the two men and pick Jimmy out as the lethal one. Which was precisely why Jacounda had sent along No Neck.

  Jimmy had been on Del’s list for years. That Hermes had sent him to take Blue was also a message. A very smug message. It was also a mistake.

  Diego slowed his movements, hyperaware of everything yet detached, almost as if observing the entire scene surrounding him from a seat in a theater. He missed nothing.

  The instant the passenger door shifted the first fraction of an inch, Diego swung into action, drawing no undue attention to himself.

  He came around the back of the car, as if heading back to the Jeep, and dropped his paper towels. They made no noise, but they caught No Neck’s attention. Diego crouched down to pick them up, slid his knife from his belt and sliced it along the right rear tire all in one smooth movement. A quick glance showed that No Neck was coming around the car.

  The sound of gravel crunching stopped the big man’s progress. He swung around to watch a large four-by-four pickup truck lumber into the gas station lot.

  Diego made his move. The passenger door swung open, blocking any view of what he was about to do from the Jeep. He had no idea if Blue was watching all this, but he was thankful that she wouldn’t have to see it. Made his job much easier. No messy questions to answer. And there were far too many messy questions that could be asked in this case.

  Jimmy swung his legs out, his right hand by his thigh. Diego registered the nine-millimeter Glock he carried. Simultaneously bringing up his knife and a fistful of paper towels, he took out Jimmy’s gun hand first. The wad of paper towels in the small man’s mouth muffled his screams. A well-placed chop with the side of his hand took out his right knee. Jimmy wasn’t going anywhere.

  Diego shoved Jimmy back into the seat just as he heard John shout out a friendly request to No Neck for a hand with his flat tire.

  What followed was more tightly choreographed than the most challenging of ballets. No Neck turned to respond to John as Diego flipped the seat latch, flattening out the seat and putting Jimmy on his back.

  With his knife on Jimmy’s jugular vein, Diego leaned into his face.

  “Hey, Jimmy,” he whispered. “Should have stayed in Florida. Didn’t anyone tell you the desert can be murder this time of year?”

  The smaller man never even blinked. A true professional stone-cold killer. Diego knew John would likely get nothing out of the man. But Jacounda would eventually know that he’d lost his first team. And sending that message would be enough this time around.

  Fifteen seconds, a belt, and two bandannas later, Diego was certain Jimmy wasn’t going anywhere. At least not until John escorted him there. He was also fairly certain the smaller man wouldn’t bleed to death before John had his turn with him. But it was a calculated risk he simply had to take.

  A loud thud told him that John had taken out No Neck. He didn’t have to look to know that it had been done as unobtrusively as Jimmy’s exit from the game had been. Diego almost smiled. He knew John had not only been up to the challenge, but had relished it. Unlike Diego, who did his job because he believed in it and did it well, John actually enjoyed his work. Craved it, in fact. Diego had never asked what demons drove John, just as his occasional partner had never pried into Diego’s background.

  But if he had to rely on anyone, it was John McShane.

  Diego left the squeegee on the ground under the car and headed to the building. The sounds of air wrenches and metal tools clanged from inside the garage bay. He found the mechanic on his back under an old Ford pickup.

  “Hey there.” He shouted to be heard over the din. The sudden cessation of noise made his ears ring.

  The grimy coveralls protruding from beneath the truck slid out to reveal a barrel-chested man with a full black beard and a long braid. “Hiya.” He pulled a set of headphones out of his ears. “Hope you haven’t been waiting long. What can I do for you?”

  “Friend of yours needs to borrow your bike trailer.”

  The man’s deep laugh echoed off the walls. “Blue’s been playing in the desert again. She send you in here?” The man stood and wiped his hands on the towel hanging from his waist. He was head and shoulders taller than Diego. Still chuckling, he extended his hand. “William Maxwell. But everyone calls me Tiny.”

  Diego took his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Tiny.”

  “You must be the new cook.”

  “Yep.”

  Tiny walked over to a side door. “Follow me, it’s out back.” He opened the door and stepped outside. “I have to tell you, though, it’s not like Blue to send anyone in to do her dirty work. Especially a man, if you know what I mean. Guess she’s snowed under at the cantina. Meant to get over there myself today, but got sort of involved here.”

  Diego had to admit he was more than a little intrigued by Tiny’s casual reference to Blue’s apparent aversion to men. Had her ex soured her on men altogether?

  Just as Diego opened his mouth to ask Tiny what he’d meant, he was saved from his lapse in judgment when Blue peeled around the corner of the garage in the Jeep.

  She was out of the truck and storming down on him before he could close his mouth.

  “What in the hell were you doing out there? That guy in the pickup just towed that car away. Towed that gorilla in the monkey suit away with it. You’re over there doing goodness knows what and then you just stroll into the garage like nothing is happening? What is going on here?”

  FIVE

  She was right in his face. Diego couldn’t remember the last time someone had invaded his personal space the way Blue did. He sure as hell knew he’d never enjoyed it before.

  “I was going to get you to wash the dust off the windshield while I got the trailer. The guy in the car had a problem, but the other guy in the pickup said he’d help them out.” Diego shrugged. “We need to get back to the cantina, so I came in here looking for your mechanic friend.”

  Diego was well aware that Tiny was watching this interchange with no small amount of interest. Whatever was said here was likely to be spread all over Villa Roja before sundown. He could use that to defuse suspicion. But for the moment he was having a hard time taking his eyes off of Blue.

  “They were following us,” she said. “I thought you were in trouble, that they were after you or something.”

  “After me?” He gave Tiny a confused look, then turned back to Blue. “What gave you that idea? I’m just the—”

  “Don’t even say it.” She swore under her breath. “So I’m paranoid now, is that it?”

  Tiny broke in. “Well, Blue, what with Leroy saying someone’s out to kill you and all.” He patted her on the shoulder. “It’s understandable you’d be a bit on edge, darlin’.”

  Diego actually had to bite back a smile. Up until now he’d thought Tiny was a smart man.

  Blue spun around and bore down on the big man. “Don’t use that tone with me, William Maxwell. I know what I saw, and those men were after Diego.” She stopped abruptly, her mouth still open, then turned to face Diego. “Unless they were after me.”

&nbs
p; His chest tightened in an uncontrollable little clutch, followed closely by a keen sense of rage. He’d never thought to see vulnerability in Blue’s eyes. He was suddenly mad, killing mad, at the man who had put it there.

  “We came out of the desert. In my Jeep.” He paused for a brief second, not entirely sure he had his voice totally under his command. The realization did little for his temper. Control had always just been his. Harnessed, fully contained, there for the asking.

  Until now.

  Until the need for it had become personal.

  “No one could have known where we’d hit the highway. How could they have been after you?” he said calmly. He’d never felt less calm. His heart was pounding so hard he was surprised she couldn’t hear it, see it beating beneath his damp T-shirt.

  She started to argue, but stopped again, staring out at the desert for several long seconds. Diego let her have her moment, his motives not entirely selfless. Tiny was smart this time and also stayed silent.

  She turned back around and faced them both. “Okay, so maybe this whole thing is bothering me a little more than I thought it was. I just wish I’d had the chance to question Leroy again.”

  His respect for her grew as he watched her grapple for and gain control. She was an intelligent woman with good instincts that were telling her she was not making this up. It didn’t seem right for him to take that away from her.

  But her sharp instincts would do her no good dead.

  “I’m sure he’ll turn up somewhere. He seems a bit unstable if you ask me.”

  “He never was before.”

  “He up and took off for Florida with no notice,” Diego argued.

  “See, that’s what’s bugging me. That was just not like Leroy.”

  “Well, he did it. Obviously he had things going on in his life you knew nothing about. You have no idea what he might have been involved in.”

  He watched her struggle to accept his logic. His admiration grew again. Instinct pitted against relentless cold logic rarely survived. Blue’s was still alive and kicking. She’d have made a good agent. As good as her dad. And that was the highest compliment Diego could bestow. He respected few men. Felt beholden to fewer still. To one, in fact.