Chapter One

by Judith Rochelle

  Quinn pushed his cup away. “Okay. Thanks anyway. Nice seeing you.” He started to slide from the booth.

  “Okay, okay, okay.” Jake shook his head. “I know I’ll be sorry, but I can go this far with you. Only because it’s you. Peter Fleming is the only surviving partner in the Tampa law firm of Holt, Fleming and Associates. The firm has one client, Trans Global Industries, which is really a front for a drug cartel run by Miguel and Esai Osuna. They make every other organization look like boy scouts. Nasty, nasty people.”

  An uneasy feeling crept over Quinn, but he kept his face carefully blank. “You know about them.”

  “Know about them?” Jake’s mouth twisted in a grimace. “The Department of Justice has been trying to build a case against them for two years. Our problem is we can only go so far. Fleming keeps them so low under the radar, if you didn’t know better, you’d think they were just another corporation.” He drained his coffee cup and signaled for the waitress. “So let me ask you. What the hell are you doing mixed up with the Osunas? Especially after your last fiasco with drug cartels.”

  “You know me, Jake.” He gave him a steady look. “I wouldn’t call you after all this time and ask a question just to pass the time of day.” He paused. “I may have, let’s say, stepped into something by accident and I have to know how to handle things.”

  “Compadre, the Osunas are big time trouble. You don’t even want to stick your nose in there.”

  A muscle jumped in Quinn’s jaw. He was getting a prickly feeling about all this. “What else can you tell me about them?”

  Garza stared, curiosity stamped on his face. “Jesus, Quinn. How about you telling me?” He waited while the waitress refilled his cup and Quinn’s. “If you have even the tiniest scrap of information you gotta give it to me. We’re desperate for anything to crack the wall around the cartel.”

  “And?”

  “And what?”

  “I know you’re keeping something back, so give. You told me this much.”

  Jake drummed his fingers on the table. “Okay. John Holt, the last of the senior partners, died in a house fire a few months ago. Word has it Fleming was set to marry the daughter. Then she up and disappeared.”

  “Disappeared?” I’ll say she disappeared. Otherwise, she’d be dead.

  “Yeah, and there’s something funny about it. A lot more than some guy looking for his missing girlfriend.”

  Quinn frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “The Osunas have a manhunt out for her of major proportions. They’ve called in favors every place they can. They want this broad badly. And I don’t think they’re looking to welcome her with open arms.”

  The flash drive. Of course. But why did Fleming want her dead to begin with?

  “Is she suspected of being part of the organization?” he asked. He had to find out if Kate was in trouble on both sides of the problem.

  Jake shook his head. “Not at all. Her father kept her pretty much separated from it and Peter seldom brought her to the office. We think she was just window dressing for him. But wherever she is, she’s got a big target painted on her back.”

  “Yeah? No idea why, huh?”

  “No, but we’d sure like to talk to her. She may be able to give us information she doesn’t even know she has that would help us take these guys down.”

  Quinn pushed away his rapidly cooling coffee. “So, you’re looking for her, too?”

  Jake’s eyes narrowed, comprehension bright in them. A muscle jumped in his cheek. “Shit, Ace. You’ve got the girl up there in the hills, don’t you?”

  Quinn didn’t answer, just waited to see what Jake would say next.

  “Quinn, she may be a material witness. Worst case, she has some very bad dudes wanting to wax her. How the hell did you get yourself in the middle of this?”

  “Right now I’m not in the middle of anything.” He pulled a paper napkin from the dispenser on the table and wrote something on it. “Here’s my new cell phone number. When you have more information on the girl, give me a call.”

  Garza lifted an eyebrow. “Give you a call? Are you joking? Here’s a news flash for you. The Osuna brothers run the biggest drug cartel in the United States. Maybe on this side of the world. They are more dangerous than the pendejos you put away four years ago. And very different from every other cartel we’ve tracked. No street killings, no gang fights. Their enemies just disappear and are never heard from again. And you want to wait for a phone call?”

  The coffee in Quinn’s stomach suddenly turned to bile. “How do they get away with it? You’ve always been able to tag the cartels before.”

  “Because they operate like a corporation and the guy who runs the business is one cold-hearted bloodless bastard. The aforementioned Peter Fleming. Not someone I’d ever want to cross.”

  Only years of practice allowed Quinn to keep a blank expression on his face. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “Ace, if you’re mixed up with this female she needs to come in. I told you they’ve got everyone and his uncle after her. I’ve never seen them go after someone like this before. Something’s off kilter about this search. It’s too intense. She could be drawing her last breath any minute.”

  “Thanks for the information.” Quinn stood up and tossed some money on the table. “It was good seeing you.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I hope you live long enough for me to see you again. By the way, if you don’t get yourself whacked, could I entice you into town for dinner once in a while when this is over? Maybe with a few old friends?”

  Quinn’s face tightened and he shook his head. “Not my thing these days. You know that.”

  “Apparently something’s your thing or you wouldn’t be here in the first place. All right, all right.” He held up his hands, palms outward. “Just watch your back, please.”

  “Let’s just keep this between us for now, okay?”

  “Ace, I don’t know—”

  “Just give me a little breathing room, okay? I promise to get back to you.”

  “Only because I’ve known you for so long. I can give you twenty-four hours. Hopefully you and the girl will still be alive. But that’s it.”

  “That’s not very much time, Jake.”

  “It’s more than I should give you. Besides, my boss would fry my ass if he knew I was doing even this much. Please. Don’t make me get official here. I want us to stay friends.”

  Quinn nodded. “Twenty-four hours.” Not much time to convince a skittish Kate what she needed to do.

  The men shook hands and walked out of the bar together.

  Quinn watched Jake head toward the courthouse, forcing back the uneasy feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. His nose had smelled trouble from that first minute on the highway but he’d never expected anything like this. But this was no longer an offer to help someone in distress. This was about Kate, who had suddenly become the most important person in his life.

  He looked at his watch. Time to see if she’d found anything in the library that they could use and hope she hadn’t tripped over anything she shouldn’t. Then he’d have to figure out how to tell her what Jake had said, and try to convince her to give him the flash drive. It could be the only way to keep her alive.

  Chapter Nine

  “You lost her again?”

  Miguel Osuna sat in the leather client chair, legs crossed, fiddling with an unlit cigar. He was, as always, immaculately groomed in a custom silk shirt and well-tailored slacks that did little to disguise the heavy body. The soft Hispanic accent belied the innate cruelty and anger Peter knew lurked beneath the surface. The fact that he allowed the intensity of his rage to creep into his voice was not a good sign.

  As usual, Miguel and his ugly bodyguard had arrived at the Holt, Fleming offices unannounced. It had come to be part of their daily ritual.

  Why doesn’t the man stay home where he belongs?

  “I wasn’t the one who made the mistake in identity.” Peter fidgeted with his tie, knowing he
was twisting the tiger’s tail by pointing out whose men had screwed up. The chronic headache he’d developed the past few days set up a rhythmic banging behind his eyes.

  “Are you implying that this is my fault?” Osuna’s voice was soft and deadly. “You’re the one who gave me her picture.”

  “Listen. The men told you themselves this woman was a dead ringer for Kathryn,” Peter insisted. “She looked enough like her to be her sister.”

  “It didn’t occur to you that she’d make some kind of effort to change the way she looks?” A sour expression washed over his face. “I should have thought of this myself. This woman is not as stupid as you’d like us to think she is.”

  “At least we know she’s taking buses, probably sticking to the big cities.” Peter tried to meet Miguel’s hard stare. “Airplanes would require identification and there are hardly any trains anymore. On top of that, she ditched her car. So what else is left?”

  Osuna twisted his unlit cigar. “We know nothing, only that she accidentally left a trail of bread crumbs and we didn’t follow them properly. It’s clear to me she’s unpredictable and far more resourceful than any of us expected.”

  “We have our people out there everywhere now,” Peter pointed out. “We’ll catch her.” He paused. “What about the woman from the terminal?”

  “Safely on her way to heaven. It will be a long time before they find the body.” Osuna leaned forward in his chair. “Pedro, I can’t tell you enough times. Leaving that flash drive out where anyone could get it is one of the more stupid things you’ve done. Maybe we misjudged your abilities all along.”

  “And I say again, no one was supposed to be in the office that night except us. I was in the middle of adding files when you arrived.”

  “If the policia or the federales get their hands on it, we’ll be sitting ducks.” His eyes turned so dark the irises all but disappeared. “If I get my hands on that woman, I’ll kill her myself.”

  Peter ground his teeth. “Listen to me. Those files are encrypted. No one can break the pass codes. I wrote them myself and I’m the only one with the key. She’ll be stymied.”

  “Don’t delude yourself, Pedro. There isn’t a code that’s been written yet that can’t be cracked by someone. The government employs people who do nothing but that kind of thing all day.”

  “Fine. You’ve given me my lecture for the day.” Peter was getting tired of all this bullshit, and he hated it when they called him Pedro. He was doing what he could to track Kathryn down. Threats from the cartel didn’t make things work any faster. No one wanted to find that bitch more than he did. “I’m on it,” he repeated. “I’ll get her. You have my word.”

  And I’ll take her apart piece by piece when I do.

  “If this organization is destroyed because of your carelessness and poor judgment, the results for you will be very unpleasant. That’s my personal guarantee.”

  Peter felt a tiny bead of sweat work its way down his spine. “We’ll get her. That’s a promise.”

  Miguel Osuna stared at him, unblinking. “Is it? My brother and I have come to believe we can’t afford to count on your promises any longer. That’s why I’m here today, to give you an...update. He and I are taking charge of this search. We have called in reinforcements from people who owe us favors and the word is out. Wherever she is, someone will find her. When they do, they’ll report to one of us.”

  “But—”

  “No buts. You need to remember that your neck is on the line, too.”

  Peter swallowed hard against the nausea that rolled through him. “I understand. I will continue to pursue my own avenues.”

  “Fine. But we can’t let her slip through our fingers again.”

  Peter allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief when Miguel and his bodyguard took their leave. Those two men could frighten the devil.

  Shit!

  He swept the papers on his desk aside in a gesture of frustration. Who would have thought dull Kathryn Holt, the quiet little mouse, could do him so much damage? If that flash drive fell into the wrong hands he wasn’t sure he could find a deep enough hole to crawl into.

  How rosy everything had looked when the Osunas moved him into the law practice. They’d gotten rid of one brother. Now it was time to slide the other one out, they told him. And Peter, with his computer knowledge and extensive modern legal expertise, was taking the operation further and higher than either of the Holt brothers ever could.

  But John Holt had been tougher than they’d expected. He’d finally had enough, he told them. He’d leave, all right, but he was taking his story to the feds. He was tired of being covered with the same slime as the cartel. When threats and pressure didn’t persuade him to keep quiet, they got rid of him and his wife.

  How unfortunate for everyone that Kathryn had left the house early that night. The plan was supposed to eliminate all of them at once. When that didn’t happen and Miguel had wanted to kill Kathryn right away, Peter had reminded him that another accidental death so close on the heels of the others would create attention they didn’t need. He’d had to waste valuable time bringing her under his control so he knew what was going on at all times. Could wait for just the right situation to get rid of her without any questions popping up, from her friends or her boss.

  Only he’d made the fatal mistake of underestimating her. Now a billion dollar organization teetered on the brink of disaster because of it. Life was full of surprises. Too bad for him not all of them were pleasant.

  Sighing, he pulled his laptop closer and began tapping the keys. He’d better find her before the brothers did or he would be in deep, deep shit.

  Well, he doubted she could disappear indefinitely. She had to leave a paper trail somewhere. And wherever it was, he’d find it.

  ****

  The silence in the library, as it was in most libraries, was so thick you could touch it. Kate’s nose twitched at the familiar smells of printed pages and rubber stamps that still clung from hours at similar facilities in high school and college. People filled the room like ghosts, walking with whisper-soft steps and mouthing their words to eliminate vocal sounds. She shut it all out so there was just her and the machine.

  Not knowing how long she had until Quinn returned, Kate didn’t waste any time. Finding anything about either Peter or the firm was a long shot but she had to try. Her lack of knowledge made her feel incredibly stupid. She wanted to be able to tell Quinn something besides, “I don’t know.”

  Maybe she’d get lucky. “You can do this,” she muttered as she flexed her fingers over the keyboard. “Just think. Blank everything else out of your mind. That’s all you need to do.”

  Caution was important. She knew how to build layers of anonymous servers to hide the original source. In market research clients often wanted their identity kept secret.

  She began with the law firm, a more likely subject on which to find information. But everything that came up was so innocuous she might have been reading about air. Holt, Fleming and Associates was described as a quiet corporate law firm dealing with a few major clients. Although there were a number of articles, they told her almost nothing. There was a little background on her father and his uncle, but that was it. Still, she sent them all to the printer, figuring anything was better than nothing.

  She got a little more when she did a search on her father’s name, including the wedding announcement and social items that documented any entertaining they did. But nothing she wasn’t already aware of.

  She glanced at her watch, wondering just how soon Quinn would be back. Chewing her bottom lip, knowing that Quinn would probably be angry but unable to kill her curiosity, she decided to see what she could find out about Peter.

  The work was tedious and time consuming. She wanted to bang the computer in frustration every time a page opened only to have a message pop up that read, “Server Error. Remote server could not be accessed.” Several times she closed down everything, rebooted and started again, but the same results
stared her in the face. Something was wrong, and she couldn’t seem to fix it with the skills she had. No matter how many times she tried, the results were always the same.

  “Damn, damn, damn.” She pushed her hair away from her forehead. “Who are you, Peter? Where did you come from? Did you emerge one day from under a rock?”

  In the end, she had little more than when she started—a bare bones profile, mostly gleaned from the UVA site where he’d received his law degree. Peter Fleming indeed appeared to have sprung whole from the atmosphere, with an undergraduate degree from MIT, a law degree from UVA, and no family history. What the hell did that mean? Everyone had a family. Didn’t they?

  Tired and frustrated, she sat back and rubbed her eyes, trying to ease the strain of reading fine print for so long. Her head ached, her back was stiff from sitting hunched over the terminal, and she was irritated beyond belief. And what did she have to show for it? Little more than a big fat nothing.

  She sensed Quinn’s presence even before he spoke. Although he’d moved up quietly, in that stealthy, catlike way, she knew he was there. Her Quinn radar was fast shifting into overdrive.

  “Find anything interesting?” His voice, that deep, rusty sound softened by the warm Texas drawl, floated in from behind her. “It’s nearly three-thirty and I’d like to get out of town before rush hour.”

  When he touched his hands lightly on her shoulders, shivers skittered along her spine. “Yes, I’m done. I’m sorry. Were you waiting downstairs all this time?”

  “No. I just got here, as a matter of fact.”

  “How was your...meeting with your friend?”

  He rubbed her shoulders, easing the strain. “Okay. We’ll talk about it later.”

  “Oh oh.” A whisper of fear raced through her. “I won’t like it, right?”

  “Later,” he insisted. “Meanwhile, let’s get out of here.”

  Kate pressed the key to return the screen to the main menu, and stood up. “Just let me get the sheets I printed out. I figured anything was better than nothing.”