by Tarah Scott
Captain Medina picked up on the third ring. “Medina.”
“Captain, it’s Hunter. Sorry to interrupt, but Ms. Monahan just got a call from her boss with an order for her to meet with the FBI. They’re insisting on her statement now.”
“I just got off the line with Agent Phillips, head of the El Paso FBI office. The order came down from him. They’ll meet you at the safe house we use.”
“That’s a pretty slick end run,” Ben said.
“She has to talk to them,” Medina replied. “Might as well get it over with.”
Ben wanted to argue, but said, “Yeah,” and hung up. “Looks like you got your meeting, Ms. Monahan.”
Ben borrowed his father’s truck and, ten minutes later, they were on the road.
Ben could see that Liz was determined to meet with the Feds. He wasn't a fool. She planned on using the meeting to fill in the blanks she was sure he was hiding. She was too damn smart.
He'd known three days ago, when he met her at the photo shoot, that he was going to get to know her better. Looking back, he saw that he was hit harder than he’d realized. He liked her. More than liked her, if he was honest. Something about her got under his skin, and he liked what it did to him. He cast a covert glance at her in the passenger seat of his father’s truck, then returned his attention to the street.
“I know when a man is looking at me, Mr. Hunter.”
Yeah, she was too smart. Dammit, why hadn’t she agreed to wait an hour before meeting with the FBI? The sun sat low in the horizon. In early August in El Paso, it didn’t get dark until after eight-thirty. He liked the idea of leaving the Feds after sundown—just in case they decided to follow him after he and Liz left the meeting with them. He could lose them a lot easier in the dark. He also grew increasingly nervous over the video that played and replayed on the news. The more he and Liz were out, the greater the chances someone would spot them.
The meeting place came into sight: A safe house they sometimes used, located less than two minutes from the Pebble Hills Park police station. Ben slowed, then turned into the driveway and parked. He turned off the engine and Liz reached for the door handle.
“Remember what I told you, Liz. Don’t tell them we're going to Las Cruces.”
She nodded.
“And, Liz.” She shifted and looked at him. “You’re not going to Mexico with me.”
“So that's what this is about,” she said.
“This—” he jabbed a finger toward the house “—is about us having our ducks in a row. I don't like this—I want you safely away from here—but we need your statement.” Despite his misgivings, that was the truth.
She nodded. “That's what I'm here for, to give my statement.”
“And to find out what's going on.”
“I want to know what the FBI has to say,” she replied. “I do have that right. After all, there is a warrant for my arrest in Mexico.”
“We'll get the charges dropped,” Ben said.
“I know you will. But I don't like flying blind any more than you do. You can understand that, can't you?”
“I haven't lied to you, Liz.”
“The sin of omission is the same as a lie.”
He shook his head. “I haven't omitted anything. I told you the Feds want you to go back.”
“True. But you're trying to convince me it won't matter if I don't go back with you.”
Ben recalled thinking it would matter if she didn't return with him. He'd told Medina that, but wasn’t going to admit that he’d even had the thought. “I never said I thought it was a good idea,” he said. “You're a grown woman. I might want to grab your hair and drag you into my cave, but I know better.”
She barked a laugh, then clamped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide with laughter. Ben stared as she lowered the hand. Her mouth twitched as if she wanted to laugh.
“That's a very vivid picture,” she said.
The mental picture appeared full force in Ben's mind: him tossing Liz onto a pile of animal furs, then coming down on top of her. The vision sent the blood rushing from his head to his groin. He knew exactly what he would do to her in his cave.
“Who do they have to take my place?” she asked.
“What?”
Her eyes narrowed and her question registered in his brain—as did the fact that she'd guessed what he'd been thinking. “She's an FBI agent, so I don't know her.”
Liz hesitated, and he figured she was deciding if she was going to pursue what had been on his mind, but she said, “You’re confident that Mr. Sanchez will believe she's me?”
The house’s front door opened and Masters stepped onto the porch.
“They've guessed I’m giving you last minute instructions,” Ben said. “No matter what happens, Liz, you're not going anywhere with them. They can't be trusted.”
“They're the FBI, law enforcement like you.”
He shook his head. “Not like me.”
* * *
Ben hadn't exaggerated when he said the FBI agents weren't like him. Agents Masters and Braxton were distant and sterile, and Masters, in particular, exuded an edge that made Liz think there was more to this meeting than getting her statement.
“You’ll have to wait here, Ranger Hunter,” Agent Braxton said when they reached the living room.
Ben’s expression darkened and Liz thought he would argue, but he lowered himself onto the couch without replying.
“This way, Ms. Monahan,” Braxton said.
She followed them into a small den one door down the hall from the living room and sat down on a chair at a small table located near the left wall. Agent Masters turned on a recorder and asked her first to state her name. She complied and they asked her to recount what happened last night when she was kidnapped from the Remmeys’ home.
She retold the story, then agent Masters turned off the recorder.
He made a few final scribbles on a document in the open file before him and then looked at her. “You realize there's a warrant for your arrest in Juarez.”
She nodded. “Captain Medina told me about the warrant.”
He lifted aside a couple sheets of paper and read, “Accessory to murder and felony evasion,” then returned his attention to her. “These are serious charges.”
“Yes, they are,” she replied.
Masters shot Braxton a look that made her think she wasn’t supposed to know about the upgraded charges.
“If Mexico decides to extradite you, we'll be forced to comply,” Masters said.
“Extradition doesn't happen overnight,” she said.
“True. But you’ll be arrested here in the US and held in custody until extradition.”
Her heart jumped into overdrive. Surely, that couldn’t be right? “I'll be out on bond in two hours,” she said. “If events even escalated to that degree. I understand that Mr. Sanchez is a powerful criminal, but I doubt his ability to control the Juarez District Attorney, who would initiate extradition. The District Attorney would have to provide proof to the El Paso District Attorney that the charges hold water. If the El Paso District Attorney doesn’t agree, then the extradition order isn't worth the paper it's written on.”
Masters nodded. “We hope that's how it goes.”
Liz kept her gaze fixed on his. “You know as well as I do that the El Paso District Attorney will never honor an extradition order. I'm a civilian, an innocent bystander, who got caught in an undercover operation run by you—the FBI—and the Texas Rangers.”
“You seem to think you know a great deal about how extradition works, Ms. Monahan,” Masters said.
Anger began to creep through her professionalism. “Is that a threat, Agent Masters? Because if it is, and by some bizarre chance the El Paso District Attorney honors the extradition, I can assure you my lawyer will go public with the story.” Fury had her insides shaking now. “I can see why you didn't want Mr. Hunter present for this conversation.”
Masters' jaw visibly tightened. “Really?”
“I'm guessing he would plant his fist in your jaw.” She regretted the words the moment they left her mouth, and the malicious glint that appeared in the agent's eye confirmed her mistake.
“You and Hunter have gotten close,” he said.
She flashed a cold smile. “Mr. Hunter wants to be sure I don't end up dead.”
“You're in danger because of his mistake,” Masters fired back. “He created this problem.”
Liz lifted a brow. “My understanding is that he went undercover for you.”
“That was our mistake,” the agent snapped.
“And not your last mistake, either.” She kept her gaze level. “I don't like games, Agent Masters, so I suggest you get to the point.”
He leaned back in his chair. “All right, Ms. Monahan, you want it straight.”
“Will—” Agent Braxton began.
“Forget it, Jason.” His gaze remained fixed on her. “She wants it straight, that's how we'll operate. You see, Ms. Monahan, Hunter left us a big mess to clean up. That means tucking you away somewhere safe, while we get that asshole Sanchez. And we have to get him, because if we don't, then you, Ms. Monahan, are dead.”
“Does cleaning up this mess mean sacrificing Mr. Hunter?”
The malicious glint she'd seen earlier reappeared in his eyes. “If he's as tough as he is pretty, he'll be all right.”
Fear lanced deep, followed hard by a cold, burning anger. “I imagine he'll do just fine as long as you aren’t in charge of the case.”
Masters straightened. “He's the one who fucked up—not us.”
“Will,” Braxton said in a hard tone.
“What do you care what happens to him?” Masters demanded.
“I don't want to see anyone murdered,” she replied.
Masters shrugged. “He's just doing his job. If he'd done it right last night, he wouldn't be in any danger.”
“I'm alive as a result of his actions last night.”
“You shouldn't have been there in the first place.”
“Are we done?” she demanded.
“We have your deposition,” Agent Braxton began.
“Then we're done.” Liz rose.
Masters shot to his feet and caught her arm as she turned toward the door. “We can't let you walk out of here.”
She lifted a brow. “Am I under arrest?”
His mouth thinned. “No. But we're responsible for you. If we let you go, you're dead.”
“Captain Medina has made plans to ensure my safety.”
“You're our responsibility,” Masters said.
“As I said, Captain Medina has already made arrangements.” She tried to disengage her arm, but his grip tightened.
“Pretty boy isn't going to be here to protect you,” Masters said. “So just get that idea out of your head. We're taking you into protective custody.” He started toward a door on the left side of the room.
“Let me go,” she ordered.
“Let's take a minute—” Braxton cut off when the entry door swung open.
Masters whirled around, pulling Liz with him. Ben stood in the doorway, eyes glued on Masters' fingers wrapped around her arm.
“Let her go,” Ben ordered.
“You don't have jurisdiction here,” Masters sneered. “Our orders are to take her into protective custody.”
“Why?” Liz asked.
The question stopped the men cold.
“Why are you insisting upon protective custody when I told you Captain Medina made arrangements?” she demanded.
“Those are our orders,” Agent Braxton said.
Liz looked from him to Masters. “It is my legal right to refuse protection. But that aside, I will be just as safe under Captain Medina's protection.”
“That's not the problem,” Ben said. “Is it, Masters?”
“What do you know, pretty boy?” the agent replied.
Liz turned her attention to Ben, who said, “If we keep you, they’re afraid you’ll show up at the right time and put a kink in their plans.”
“Show up—” She shook her head. Then realization dawned. They didn't want her to get in the way like she had last night. Embarrassment washed over her and she dropped her gaze.
“It’s not your fault, Liz,” Ben said, and she returned her gaze to him. “They're blaming everyone but themselves.” He shifted his attention onto Agent Masters. “I said, get your hands off her.” He stepped forward and Masters reached inside his coat.
Liz glimpsed the gun he pulled from a shoulder holster.
Agent Braxton shouted, “Will!” as she shoved Masters as hard as she could.
Liz hit the floor beside him. Stong fingers closed around her arm and dragged her up into Ben's arms. He shoved her behind him, then seized Masters’ lapel and dragged him up.
“Hunter!” Agent Braxton shouted as Ben drove his fist into Master's stomach.
Masters doubled over and Agent Braxton lunged toward them as Ben swung an uppercut to Master's jaw. Liz’s heart jumped into her throat. Braxton grabbed for Masters’ arm but missed, and Masters slammed into the wall, then fell to the carpet
Ben took two steps back. Liz yanked her attention onto Masters as his hand closed around the gun that had fallen onto the carpet.
“Snap out of it, Will,” Braxton ordered.
Masters stilled, his eyes on Ben, who glared at him.
“Take it easy, Hunter,” Braxton said.
Masters dabbed the back of his hand against his bleeding nose, looked at the blood, then shifted his gaze up to Ben. “You're going to jail, Hunter.”
“You pulled your gun,” Liz said.
His head snapped in her direction. “Self-defense.”
“See if that story flies with your boss.” Ben turned his attention to Agent Braxton. “If you're smart, you'll get your stories straight. Ms. Monahan is a credible witness.” He shoved Liz toward the door and backed out of the room.
In the hallway, Ben whirled and grasped her arm. “Come on.”
Seconds later, they jumped into his truck and he backed out of the driveway. He slammed the transmission into drive and stomped on the accelerator. Tires squealed and the truck shot forward. He didn't stop for the stop sign at the end of the block, but made a right turn as he grabbed his cell phone from the cubby hole in the dash.
Liz sat silent as he spoke with his captain. The conversation was short and sweet.
Chapter Twenty
No one knew Liz’s identity, not the two Rangers assigned to protect her or the cops in Las Cruces, and only Ben and Medina knew about the plan to relocate her to the safe house in Las Cruces. Yet Ben wanted to keep driving until they reached Canada, where Sanchez would never find them.
“Where are you going?” Liz's question broke into his thoughts.
He kept his attention on the road. “How about Canada?”
From the corner of his eye, he saw her shift, then felt her hand on his arm. Her gentle squeeze startled him and the warmth that seeped from her fingers through the fabric of his sleeve heated his blood in a way he'd never experienced.
“Pull over at the nearest parking lot.”
Ben jerked his gaze onto her. Evening shadow hid her face.
She laughed. “Don’t tell me you think I have a make-out session in mind.”
“One can hope,” he ventured.
She squeezed his arm again and he wanted to take her into his arms so badly it hurt. Fact was, he needed comforting. He also needed to hear her whisper his name…then cry out when he brought her to climax.
Her hand left his arm.
“There's a station up ahead,” she said.
Ben slowed and pulled into the lot, then parked the truck in the corner spot. He turned off the engine and faced her.
She released a breath. “You were right. They're nothing like you.”
“I wish I'd been wrong.”
“Are you in much trouble?”
“Masters is the one who pulled a gun on me.”
Liz nodde
d. “Your captain wasn't happy.”
“No, but he knows I won't lie to him. He'll get it worked out. Until then, he wants us to stay out of trouble.”
“Does this mean you're not returning to Mexico?” she asked.
“Unless you're willing to live in Canada, we have to get him, Liz.”
Liz laughed quietly. “Stay out of trouble, you say?”
“It's probably best we don’t return to the ranch just yet. I don't want a confrontation if the Feds decide to show up there. I'll call my father and let him know there’s a possibility they might show up, then get us a motel. I can pay with cash, keep us below the radar.” She opened her mouth to reply, but he cut her off. “Don't worry, I'll sleep on the floor.” Ben reached to turn on the ignition.
She shook her head. “That's not what I was going to say.”
He froze, his fingers gripping the keys. Was she going to suggest he sleep in the bed…with her? “What were you going to say?”
She glanced at her watch. “Nine o’clock. Not too late. I have a phone call to make.”
“Liz, you can't—”
“Trust me.” She pulled her phone, a pen, and a business card from her purse, then tapped the phone screen.
A loud dial tone sounded. She smiled and Ben thought he'd lose himself in that smile. A voice answered the call.
“Hello. May I speak with the senator, please? Tell him it's Liz Monahan.”
Ben frowned, but she only nodded. A moment later, she said, “Hello, Senator. How are you?” A beat of silence, then, “Yes, it has been some time. I'm sorry to interrupt. I know you have guests.” She laughed. “Yes, word does get around, but that's to be expected when Iron Horse is the guest of honor.”
Iron Horse? Had he heard right? The Heisman Trophy winner from Texas A&M two years in a row?
“Come now, Senator, surely you don't think that a woman can't know about football?” Liz said.
He replied, but Ben couldn’t discern the words.
Liz laughed again. “I can see why you're so well suited for politics. I'm calling for a special reason. This is forward, but I'm in town, and I’m wondering if you can accommodate two more guests for the evening? I'm with a friend—”