Dangerous Choice KO PL

by Barbara Freethy

  Michael's jaw tightened as he thought about what they'd told him. "Pablo wouldn't hurt her."

  "Are you sure about that?" he challenged. "Did you know she was in Cascada without you?"

  Michael stared back at him. "If I see or hear from Bethany, I'll let her know you're looking for her."

  "What about Pablo?"

  "I'll talk to him. But for now, I have to get back to the tournament."

  "Mateo—Michael," he corrected again, as his brother shot him an angry look. "We still have a lot to talk about. You can't walk away."

  "We have nothing to talk about, Diego. Whatever relationship we had ended a long time ago."

  "Whatever relationship we had?" he murmured in bemusement. "We were brothers."

  "But we aren't anymore."

  "That's not true. We're blood. And that means something."

  "You need to stay away from me. I'm not the brother you remember. That kid is gone. Mateo died a long time ago. I'm Michael Winters, and you mean nothing to me."

  The words stabbed him in the heart. "I can't accept that."

  "You don't have a choice. Stay clear."

  "Is that a threat?"

  "It's a warning. I have another family now. My loyalty is to them."

  "Even if one of those family members kidnapped your girlfriend?"

  Michael's eyes burned with anger. "That didn't happen."

  "Find Pablo. Do it soon."

  Michael brushed past them, striding down the path with quick, furious strides.

  Tara gave him a desperate look. "Should we go after him? Press him harder?"

  "We've planted the seed. I think he'll dig it up. He wants to know what's going on with Pablo and Bethany."

  "Is that your heart or your brain talking?"

  "Both. Michael was surprised that Bethany was missing, and even more confused that she and Pablo were together. I guarantee he's going to find out what that was all about."

  "But what will he do about it?"

  "That I don't know."

  Sixteen

  When they walked through the lobby and out the main entrance, he saw Mateo heading toward the valet.

  "Let's get to our car," he said, picking up the pace. "Michael is heading out, and I'm guessing he's going to talk to Pablo."

  "Do you think so?" Tara asked a bit breathlessly, as he hustled her across the parking lot.

  "I really do."

  When they reached the car, he fired up the engine and drove back toward the front entrance. He was relieved to see Michael still waiting for his car, so he pulled over behind a golf cart to wait. Michael was on his phone now, and his body posture was angry.

  Pulling out his own phone, he texted Wyatt, asking him to see if he could get access to Michael's phone records. They could at least find out who he'd called if all he did was drive home or back to his wine bar.

  "Do you think he's talking to Pablo?" Tara asked.

  "Or someone who can tell him why Pablo was with Bethany."

  "I wonder if Bethany thought Pablo was taking her to Michael."

  "That's a possibility."

  "Or were Bethany and Pablo hooking up as Michael suggested?" She blew out a breath in frustration. "I really want some answers to my questions."

  "We're getting closer."

  "I'm sorry, Diego."

  "For what?" he asked in surprise.

  "I'm making this all about Bethany when what happened back there was a big moment for you and your brother. How are you feeling?"

  "Honestly, I'm not sure. He definitely wasn't happy to see me. Mateo made that clear." He thought back to their discussion. "But there was a moment…"

  "When he mentioned that you liked to order people around."

  He met her gaze. "Yes. It almost felt like we were brothers again. When he was a little kid, he used to tell me not to order him around. I said I was the big brother; it was my job. But he didn't like it. He still doesn't. Clearly, he doesn't want a relationship with me."

  "He's probably scared to let you back into his life. He had to let everyone go—first you and your father, then his mom and stepfather. It's a lot of loss for one person. And even though you were a kid yourself and you weren't responsible for the family breaking apart, trusting you again might be difficult. It might hurt too much."

  He thought about her words and wanted to believe that fear was the reason Michael didn't want to see him again. But it was possible it was just outright hatred.

  "I don't know," he said.

  "Think about it, Diego. You were the chosen one. He was the mistake, the baby who broke up the family. He was rejected by your father. It was different for you."

  "Not that different. My mother rejected me and kept Mateo. She never looked for me. She never tried to get me back."

  "I can't imagine why she didn't fight harder to see you. Frankly, the whole situation is tragic, and I blame both your parents for hurting you and your brother. They should have put both of you first. That's what good parents do."

  "You're right. They really suck. All these years I put my mom on a different level than my dad. I had all kinds of reasons in my head for why she couldn't see me. But whatever my father did to make her stay away…she still could have chosen to come back. She got married again, and to a lawyer. Surely, Tomas would have helped her find me if she'd wanted to. Hell, she probably could have gotten the Salazars to back her up. Even my father would have been no match for them. But she didn't do any of that."

  "Maybe she thought you would reject her because so much time had passed."

  "Maybe." He pulled out from behind the golf cart as his brother got into his car and drove toward the exit. He kept a little distance between them, which wasn't difficult since his brother seemed to be in a hurry to get to wherever he was going.

  "He's driving fast," Tara commented.

  "Looks like he's heading for the freeway."

  "Do you think he'll spot us?"

  "Hopefully not."

  He pressed his foot down on the gas as he followed his brother onto the 405. Mateo was heading south, toward the beaches of Manhattan, Hermosa, Redondo and Newport.

  Was he going to his wine bar in Newport? Was this going to be a completely wasted trip?

  That question was answered when Michael exited the freeway in Long Beach and drove away from the ocean into a lower-income neighborhood.

  When Michael pulled over in front of an apartment building, Diego slid into a parking spot a block away.

  "What now?" Tara asked.

  "We see where he's going, and then I follow him." He shot her a quick look. "I want you to stay here, Tara."

  She immediately shook her head. "I don't want to stay here alone, and we're better together."

  "I don't know who's in that apartment building. There could be multiple members of the Salazars present. It could be very dangerous."

  "Bethany could be there, too."

  He sighed. "I was thinking your stubbornness was a good trait until now."

  "I'm going to follow you, Diego. So I can go with you or I can come in behind you."

  "Or I could drive away."

  "Then I'll find a car and come back. Look, you're not responsible for me. It's my decision." She opened her car door and stepped onto the sidewalk.

  He jumped out of the car, thinking if he didn't act fast, she'd barge into that building without him. "Okay," he said, grabbing her arm. "But we still need to be smart."

  "I'm fine with you taking charge. I'm not looking to get hurt or cause a bigger problem. Just don't leave me out of it."

  He saw the determination in her gaze and couldn't help but admire her courage. "All right. We'll check out the building, but we'll go in quiet, see what we can hear before we make any moves."

  "Deal."

  He led the way, keeping Tara behind him. When they got to the two-story building, he saw that the lobby door was ajar. The building showed four mailboxes—four units. They had a twenty-five percent chance of finding the right one. He pulled
out his gun, keeping it at the ready, and then walked into the lobby. Tara kept a hand on his back, staying close to him. The first floor showed two apartment doors, but it was very quiet. There appeared to be voices coming from the floor above.

  He motioned for Tara to follow him up the stairs. When they got to the landing, he heard two male voices in the first apartment. They were arguing.

  He stopped by the door to listen. Tara crowded in next to him.

  "What the hell did you do?" Michael yelled. "Where is Bethany?"

  Diego couldn't hear what the other man said, but he heard a body being shoved up against a wall, followed by a groan of pain.

  "That must be Pablo," he murmured.

  "It doesn't sound like Michael knows where Bethany is," she whispered back.

  "She's definitely not here."

  "Why didn't you tell me you picked her up at the airport?" Michael demanded. "What were you doing with her? Were you hooking up? Don't lie to me."

  "No. No. It wasn't like that."

  "Then what was it like?"

  He heard a crash, as if someone had knocked over a chair.

  "You broke my fucking nose!" the other man yelled.

  "I'll break your arm if you don't start talking."

  Diego's gut twisted at the menace in Michael's voice. It was difficult to believe this was the same younger brother who never wanted to step on a bee or a spider, preferring to get the insects to a safer place. Clearly, Michael had changed. And he could not underestimate what he might do.

  "Stay here," he told Tara.

  "What are you going to do?"

  "I'm going in. Please, hang back. And if there are any shots, get the hell out of here and call the cops. If we're both dead, there's no one left to look for Bethany." As he said the words, he knew he probably should have started with that argument.

  Indecision played through Tara's blue eyes, but then she nodded.

  Putting his hand on the doorknob, he realized it hadn't latched. Michael had probably been too pissed off to close it.

  "Tell me where she is," Michael yelled again.

  He pulled out his gun and kicked the door open. Michael jumped, taking out his own weapon, while the other man sank to the ground.

  It was the man from the photo. Pablo had long brown hair and a thick beard that was dripping with blood from his nose.

  "You followed me?" Michael demanded, fury in his dark eyes.

  "Yes. You were in such a hurry to get here, you didn't notice. This must be Pablo. Where is Bethany?" He couldn't believe he was pointing a gun at his brother. But Michael wasn't backing down, and neither was he.

  "I don't know," Michael said. "And this is not your business."

  "It's my business," Tara put in, coming into the room behind him.

  Apparently, she'd assessed the situation and thought he was in control, which wasn't even close to the truth.

  "Stay back," he told her.

  "Oh, my God," Tara said suddenly, ignoring his order, as she walked over to the table. She picked up a small clutch purse. "This is Bethany's purse. She was here. Where is she now?"

  "We just want Bethany," he told his brother. "That's all we want. We don't care what else is going on here."

  "Why do you have a gun?" Mateo asked suspiciously. "You said you weren't a cop."

  "I'm not, but I thought I might need a weapon once I found out you were involved with the Salazars. I didn't know what kind of man you'd become. I'd like to believe you're not a man who hurts a woman, especially a woman he loves."

  Michael paled, but he didn't lower the gun. "I'm my own man. And I'm not involved with the Salazars; I am one of them. The Winters name allows me to move under the radar, to separate myself from the Salazars when it comes to law enforcement and other business parties. But make no mistake. They are my family."

  "I get it." Disappointment ran through him. "Like I said, we only want Bethany. So why don't we lower our weapons and talk?"

  Michael stared back at him. "You first."

  For a split second, he wondered if his younger brother would actually shoot him, but it was a risk he had to take, not only for Bethany, but to prove to Mateo that he still trusted him in some small way. He put his gun back in the waistband of his jeans. And then Mateo lowered his weapon.

  "What happened to Bethany?" he asked again.

  "Pablo said she took off." Michael shot a dark look at his friend. "And as you can see, she's not here."

  "She wouldn't leave without her purse," Tara said. "Her wallet is in here. Her credit cards. What did you do to her?"

  "I didn't touch her," Pablo said, staggering to his feet. "The bitch stole from me."

  "Stop talking," Michael told the younger man.

  "First you want me to talk, then you don't," Pablo muttered, as he moved toward the kitchen to get a towel.

  "Are you the one who searched my room in Cascada?" Tara asked Pablo. "Were you looking for what you say she stole?"

  "Did she give it to you?" Pablo asked.

  Tara didn't answer his question. "Where is she?"

  "I don't know. She ran out of here," Pablo said, trying to stem the flood of blood from his nose.

  "When was that?" she asked.

  "Last Sunday."

  "That's it. We're done," Michael said. "Get out—both of you."

  "You're protecting him?" Tara asked in bewilderment. "Bethany loves you, Michael. How can you choose him over her?"

  "Because I'm his family," Pablo answered. "Right, Michael?"

  "Right." Michael raised the gun once more. "I'm not going to ask you again. Leave now."

  "No way," Tara argued. "I want Bethany back."

  "Diego—get her out of here," Michael ordered.

  He weighed his brother's words, sensing a hint of desperation in his tone. Michael couldn't go against Pablo, at least not in front of them. Pablo also probably didn't live in this apartment alone. There were at least two bedrooms that he could see. This situation could get worse. Right now, Michael had it under control. That could change.

  "Tara, let's go," he said.

  She gave him a look that suggested he was out of his mind. "No, not until we have more information."

  "We'll keep looking for Bethany, but like Michael said, she's not here."

  Tara looked like she wanted to argue, but she must have read something in his expression, because she finally nodded. Then she turned to his brother. "This isn't over. If either of you hurt her, you will pay."

  He almost smiled at her crazy threat. Did she even realize who she was threatening? Probably not. She was too caught up in her determination to find Bethany. She stormed out of the apartment, and he quickly followed. She had a fire going on inside her, and they made it back to the car in seconds. Once inside, she slammed the door, and blew out an angry breath.

  "You want to yell at me for leaving?" he asked her, as he started the car.

  "I'm guessing you had a good reason," she said tightly. "And I told you I'd let you call the shots."

  "Which you didn't do when you came into the apartment."

  "You had your gun on Michael. I thought you could take him."

  "I'm flattered by your confidence."

  "So, what was your reason?"

  "It was the tone in Michael's voice. He had control over Pablo. The guy didn't fight back, or if he did, he was terrible at it. But I don't think Pablo lives there alone. I got the sense Michael wanted us out of there before anyone else showed up."

  "I thought it was something like that."

  "You do realize you just threatened two members of the Salazar cartel?"

  "So what?" she asked with a cynical shrug. "They're already trying to kill us."

  "True."

  "I know it wasn't smart," she admitted. "But when I saw Bethany's bag on the table, I wanted to explode. It confirmed that she's still in trouble. She wouldn't leave without her purse. Pablo threatened her, or he hurt her. God, he might have killed her, and he just didn't want to tell Michael."
/>   "Let's not go that far. It's possible he told the truth. Maybe she did run away."

  "But where did she go? That was a week ago Sunday. Where has she been since then?"

  "I don't know, but she's in LA. She knows the area. She's probably hiding somewhere."

  "I need to turn on my real phone. Maybe she left me a message."

  "Go ahead," he said.

  Tara dug into her bag and pulled out her phone. As it whirred to life, she said, "It didn't seem like Michael knew where she was, though."

  "I agree. Pablo and Bethany are caught up in something, and Michael is in the dark. He's very angry about that."

  "What do you think she stole from Pablo—money?"

  He considered her question. "It had to be more than that. They wouldn't have put so much effort into trying to find her, to see if you had something, if it was just cash."

  "What I don't understand, though, is why Bethany got into Pablo's car. Wasn't she running from him?"

  "That's an interesting question. Maybe she thought Pablo was a friend."

  "But she stole something from him."

  "I don't know. There's a piece we're missing."

  "There's a lot we're missing. We take one step forward and three steps backward," she complained. "Where are we going now? What are we going to do next?"

  "Pablo said Bethany ran from his apartment. She was on foot. We know what day that was. I noticed a gas station a hundred yards away from that apartment building. I also saw a market and a bank. All of those places will have security cameras. I'll get Wyatt and Bree to tap into all the cameras we can find. We'll see if we can pick her up again."

  "You can do that?"

  "Yes."

  Hope returned to her gaze. "It's a good idea."

  "You need to focus on what else is good—Bethany ran. She's alive."

  "I really hope that's what happened." Tara looked at her phone. "My missed calls are from my parents and a couple of friends. There's nothing from Bethany. If she was in trouble here in LA, why wouldn't she call me?"

  "She obviously doesn't want to involve you, Tara. I suspect it's because there's something criminal going on. And the police might not be an option, either, for that same reason." He paused. "You grew up here. You have a history with Bethany. You know how she thinks. Where would she go?"

  "I don't know all her haunts anymore, and I doubt she's hanging out in public anywhere."