Two men.
And they seemed to be following them.
“Maybe we should go get my bags first?” Julia said softly.
He heard her, but his attention was focused on the men. They were out of place and stood out like Trump at a feminist rally. First, they were taller than most of the people rushing around them. They were also fitter, with the kind of muscles serious working out would develop. Both men were dressed in black, when most people around them were dressed in faded clothes that had seen better days. But it was the way they moved that had Joe on alert. They moved like men who were trained. Ex-military or private army, Joe guessed. Neither option reassured him.
As he hauled Julia around the corner of the concrete prison compound, she tugged at his hand. “My legs are shorter than yours.”
“Sorry.” He shortened his stride, at the same time noticing that she’d almost tripped over the uneven sidewalk. He needed to be more careful. He eyed the guys behind them. But more importantly, he needed to get her to safety.
“Well, what do you think?” Julia asked.
Joe cast a glance down at her. She was looking at him nervously, but hopefully.
“About what?”
She frowned, at the same time Joe spotted the guys turn into the road behind them. They hugged the shadows, keeping their distance, clearly thinking they hadn’t been spotted.
“You weren’t listening,” Julia gently admonished. “I said, wouldn’t it be best if we stayed at the Sheraton tonight and moved closer to the prison tomorrow? That way, I could use the hotel Wi-Fi to research hotels and make a booking for us. Plus”—she cast a pointed glance around at the half-finished brick buildings surrounding them—“I don’t think there are many hotels in this area.”
She was right. This part of Lima was a step up from a shantytown. People here could afford to build houses, but only a bit at a time—hence all the half-finished buildings with rebar sticking out, waiting for a second floor to be added.
“Joe, what do you think?”
What he thought was that they had to get off the street. And fast. Until he knew who wanted to keep tabs on them, and what they wanted, he could better protect Julia inside a hotel.
“No.” It came out more firmly than he’d intended. “We need to be close to your grandmother in case Ed needs us for something. He might even get her released tonight.”
Plus, he wasn’t sure if Julia had been followed from the airport, or what kind of surveillance had already been set up at her hotel. It was best if they started again—in an environment he could control.
Joe stuck his hand out and waved at passing cars. One of them had to be a cab. Seeing as most taxis didn’t come with signage, it wasn’t always easy to tell. He tugged Julia closer to him. He needed to get her off the street before nightfall. A small Volkswagen, which had seen better days, swerved through the traffic and screeched to a halt at the curb beside them. Joe pulled open the door to the back seat and urged Julia to get in.
“Is this a cab?” Julia was clearly horrified. No doubt she was examining the interior for the driver’s official registration. She wasn’t going to find any.
Joe pushed in beside her, his knees around his ears, slammed the door and ordered the driver to head for Miraflores. It was the closest suburb with decent hotels. And by decent, he meant big chain hotels. To Joe, those places were seriously lacking in atmosphere, but he knew Julia would appreciate the generic feel and familiarity.
As the car zoomed into the flow of traffic, horn blasting as it did so, Joe spotted one of the men dig into his pocket and come out with his phone. Checking in. Joe tried to keep an eye on the men, but there was too much chaos on the road behind them to see if they got into a vehicle to follow them.
“It’s so dusty here,” Julia whispered beside him, her eyes on the hills around Lima that housed the sandy-coloured shantytowns. The thousands of small houses, made out of reed matting and plywood sheets, were barely visible against the barren hills.
“When we get things sorted out with your gran, I’ll take you to Cusco and the jungle. Lots of green there for you to look at.”
She stiffened beside him, and Joe wondered if he would ever break through her defences to the point where she was relaxed and comfortable around him. He had to believe he would, because Julia Collins had become as essential to him as breathing.
“Is she going to be okay?” Julia’s soft question broke into Joe’s musings. “Is your lawyer friend good?”
“Yeah.” Joe placed a hand on Julia’s arm and watched her freeze in place. When he didn’t move it, she relaxed slightly. Baby steps, Joe reminded himself, baby steps. “He’s more than capable. If anyone can sort out this mess and get your gran out of there, Ed can. And she’s definitely going to be okay. Patricia is in the safest part of the prison.”
“But if Ed can’t get her out, she’ll be moved to the other part, right?”
“That’s not going to happen. I promise you that.”
Julia seemed to relax further at his vow, and Joe prayed he would be able to keep it. To hell with that—he would definitely keep it. He’d move heaven and earth to make sure he did. First, he needed to get her into their new hotel room, then he was going to make some calls to find out what the police were doing about the missing Alice. Then he planned to talk to his boss, Callum. He didn’t know what was going on here, but one thing was clear—things were a whole lot more complicated than Julia’s grandmother had led them to believe.
Chapter 2
Callum McKay swung his legs over the edge of his bed as he picked up the phone ringing on his nightstand. Well, he swung what was left of his legs. The parts that hadn’t been blown off when he’d been in the service. He absently rubbed his thigh as he checked the caller ID.
“It’s all gone to hell, hasn’t it?” Callum said by way of hello. “It didn’t take long. You’ve been there, what? Two hours?”
“Five,” Joe said.
Callum sighed. “Spit it out, then. It’s the middle of the bloody night over here.” Not that he’d been sleeping, but Joe didn’t need to hear about his ongoing battle with insomnia.
“We picked up a tail at the prison.” Joe’s voice was hushed, and Callum guessed he was keeping the information to himself for the time being.
“Law enforcement?” Callum tried to ignore the pain in his legs. Pain that shouldn’t have been there, because the part of his legs that ached no longer existed.
“Don’t know,” Joe said. “But I don’t think so. There were two of them. They were coordinated and knew what they were doing. Plus”—Joe lowered his voice—“I could have sworn I saw signs of respect as they walked through the streets.”
Callum cursed. Signs of respect meant locals who were too scared to look at the men. Signs of respect generally meant one thing—cartels were involved. “Have you gotten the full story out of Julia’s grandmother yet?”
“She’s still in jail, but my contact—Eduardo Sanchez—is working on it.”
“He can be trusted?”
“Yeah, he’s dual nationality and did some time in the Marines way back when. He’s good people.”
“What about the missing friend? She’s been gone, what? Three, four days now. Any sign of her?”
“You remember that?”
“Aye.” Callum sometimes wished his memory wasn’t a steel trap. He stared at his stumps. There were things he would kill to forget.
“There’s been no word. We checked in with the police here, and they said they’ve got officers hunting for her, but…”
“But the system is disorganised and corrupt. You don’t know who’s really looking for her and who really wants her.”
“Yeah. If she left on her own, she could be anywhere. If someone has her, there’s been no word, no call for ransom. I haven’t said it aloud, but there’s a good chance the woman is dead.”
“You think someone killed her over this damn mummy?” Callum asked.
“I don’t know what to think.
All I know is we have a missing woman, another in jail and guys with guns on our tail. Can you get Elle to do some hacking magic and dig up everything she can find about Alice Bridges, Patricia Matthews and this damn mummy?”
“Aye, I can do that.”
Callum reached for his prosthetic legs. Although there was a ramp that led straight into the office from the old carriage house at the back of the Benson Security building, Callum didn’t like to use his wheelchair. If he was going to manage the London office, he was damn well going to do it standing—even if it wasn’t on his own two feet.
“Thanks.” He heard Joe’s relief. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but I’m getting a real bad feeling about it. Whatever it is, it’s a helluva lot worse than Julia’s gran let on.”
“Another bloody family crisis. This is what I’m dealing with now. I never had to deal with this crap in the special forces.” Callum put the call on speaker and started to pull the compression sock over his left leg stump. “I should have known when Julia used those doe eyes on me and asked for time off to bail her poor wee gran out of a foreign jail that this would end up being far from simple. We haven’t even opened the doors of this bloody office and already we’re on our second renovation because of family issues.”
Okay, so they’d agreed to help Dimitri find his sister before they even took over the London office and, technically, it wasn’t Dimitri’s fault that someone had bombed the place, but still. Callum had only just bought into the company, the London office hadn’t even taken on its first paying client and already they were up to their necks in yet more of his team’s family drama.
“You about done whining?” The American bastard sounded amused.
“Am I entertaining you, Joe?” Callum strapped on his prosthetic leg.
“Not at all, boss. Not at all.”
“Bastard,” Callum muttered. “While I remember, get Julia to call her parents. Her mother has been ringing all bloody day because she can’t get her daughter on the phone, and I don’t know what to tell her. All Julia said before she ran out of here was that her mother was to be kept in the dark. It’s like being back in high school. I do not have time for this crap.”
“I’ll pass on the message,” Joe drawled. “Now, if you’re done ranting, can we focus on the problem in Peru? I exhausted my reliable contacts pulling a lawyer. I don’t know anyone here I trust enough to do some digging for me or to watch our backs. You got anyone you can recommend?”
Callum ran a hand down his face. Man, but he felt every second of his forty-two years. “I’ll see who I can dig up and call you back.”
“Appreciated,” Joe said.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Callum cut the call dead and yanked his jeans up over his half-plastic legs.
Two minutes later, he’d pulled a t-shirt over his head and was striding towards his office. It was time to call his business partners and tell them they’d somehow managed to find trouble all over again.
Joe had insisted on a suite, when Julia would have rather they had separate rooms—far away from each other, on opposite sides of the hotel. The suite was decorated in a style Julia had come to think of as lush, modern chic. Lots of overfilled soft furnishings and patterned fabrics, in rich colours, interspersed with white. At least she was grateful that the suite had two bedrooms and that they were in a hotel she was familiar with. She’d stayed in the InterContinental many times with her family. That didn’t stop her calling down to management while Joe was making his own calls. She grilled the poor duty manager on the temperature of her dishwashing water and frying oil, as well as on their hygiene standards concerning food preparation. To her credit, the woman was very patient with Julia’s weird interrogation, and now she knew she could safely order off the menu in any of the hotel’s four restaurants.
Which she would do right after she unpacked. But wait, she couldn’t unpack because her bags were in a completely different hotel. Julia eyed the bedroom where Joe had dumped his own bag and was currently pacing while he mumbled into his phone. Maybe she could sneak out while he was talking. She could head back to her original hotel, unpack her bags, barricade the door and spend a peaceful night alone.
As though reading her mind, Joe turned and stared at her while he spoke. He said something into the phone before holding it away from his ear and pointing at her.
“Don’t even think about going anywhere. It isn’t safe, and I will just hunt you down anyway.”
Julia gaped at the man while he continued his conversation with the local police. How did he do that? How did he read her mind? It was seriously disconcerting. Instead of bolting for the door, like any sane woman would do, Julia walked to the large window and looked out at the city.
The suite Joe had insisted on, was on one of the higher floors in the hotel, with views out over Miraflores and the cliffs, to the Pacific Ocean. Not that she’d seen any of these things, except on her iPad when she’d googled the area. Joe had told her that Miraflores was an affluent area popular with tourists. Google told her the name translated into “look at the flowers,” which she thought was pretty. She was also hopeful it meant the suburb had less sand and more greenery.
“Callum says you need to call your mother.”
Joe’s voice startled Julia, making her jerk forward and bump her forehead against the glass.
“Come here.” His hand held her shoulder and turned her to him. He scrutinised her forehead, gently tracing a finger over the area she’d hit.
“It’s nothing,” Julia whispered, aware of how close he was standing.
His sinfully sensual lips quirked up at the corners. “Want me to kiss it better?”
Danger! Danger! Overload, overload, system malfunction!
Joe Barone had a tendency to eat up all the space around him, making her feel like she couldn’t breathe. It wasn’t just the fact he towered over her, or that his shoulders were impossibly wide—it was his intensity. Something she doubted most people noticed because he hid it behind easy charm and a quick smile. But she saw it. Probably because she’d spent so much time over the past year studying the man—covertly, of course. Joe Barone was a coiled tiger. He was dangerous, smart and relentless in everything he pursued.
Which terrified her, because Julia knew he was pursuing her.
“What did you say?” she whispered, aware of just how close he was standing.
“I said”—he ran his thumb over her forehead—“do you want me to kiss it better?
Julia jerked back, away from his touch.
“Maybe later, then.” He took a half step back from her, giving her some much-needed space to breathe. “Callum said your mom has been calling every hour. You’d better deal with it or he might send someone over there to sort out the problem for him.”
Great. Exactly what she needed. A conversation with her mother. Not that she didn’t usually love talking to her mum. It was just that her mum could see through Julia in ways no other person could, and she would know as soon as Julia opened her mouth, that something was wrong. Talking to her mother was a minefield. Maybe she could just send her a text? Or an email? She could do an email. Maybe.
“You hungry?” Joe interrupted the discussion she was having with herself.
“I think so.” A nervous stomach meant she didn’t always feel hunger when she should, but she was aware she hadn’t eaten much on the plane. Airline food was notorious for being badly cooked, and she couldn’t risk getting food poisoning, so she’d stuck to nuts and crackers for the duration of the flight.
“I’ll order something from room service. Did you check out the kitchens already?”
Julia’s eyes sprang up to his. She studied him for a moment, but he didn’t seem to be making fun of her.
“Yes, I did,” she said cautiously.
He nodded. “Good, then call your mom while I order.”
For a moment, Julia couldn’t believe he’d taken her foible in his stride. It was something she’d have to think about. Later. Joe turned away from her, an
d for some reason, him leaving her space didn’t make her feel better.
“I think it would be best if I send her a vague, but upbeat, email instead.”
“Babe, she’s your mom. You know how to deal with her. But if I did that to mine, she’d hunt me down until she got the real story.”
So would Julia’s mum. On second thought, maybe she’d send a text instead.
Joe reached for the room phone. “What do you want?”
“Fries and bananas.”
Joe looked at her. “Fries and bananas?”
“Yes. The bananas come with their own packaging and fries are deep fried, which will kill any bacteria.”
“Babe, please tell me you don’t plan to spend this whole trip eating fries and bananas.”
“No.” Unless she couldn’t find anything else she thought was safe enough to eat. In which case, the answer would be a most definite yes. Anyway, if she added nuts—in their shells, of course—then she’d have a balanced diet. Almost. “Can you see if they have any nuts? In shells?”
Joe shook his head and ordered the food. While he was doing that, the porter arrived with her luggage from her previous hotel. Julia had to go through it to make sure nothing had been tampered with, which made her irritated with Joe for adding to her stress and messing up her perfectly organised plan.
She had her bag open on her bed—thankfully, the lock hadn’t been tampered with—when Joe sauntered into the room.
“Want to play cards?” He leaned against the doorjamb, his arms folded and his ankles crossed.
Cards? “I thought I’d eat and then get some sleep.” She also thought she’d spend as little time as possible with the man who made every hair on her body stand up—as though reaching for him.
“Not a good idea. It’s too early. If you go to sleep now, your body clock won’t adapt properly and you’ll have jetlag longer.”
“Is that true?” She wouldn’t put it past the charming monster to use pseudo-facts just to get her to do what he wanted.
Relentless (Benson's Boys Book 2) Page 2