Jack and Doug faced down Carlos while Noah pried the lid off the second crate. Carlos glared at them, then his expression changed as recognition set in. He looked to Jack, then back to Doug, wracked with confusion. I could imagine what was running through his mind. He didn’t know what the hell was going on. But he was smart enough to know it was more than a group of harmless activists. His eyes grew large and flitted around.
Noah flipped over the second crate and another clump of slithering snakes wriggled to get free of each other. He immediately went to work on the third crate.
“Keep your hands off that crate,” Carlos said in English. “Back off.”
Be careful! Noah cracked the lid, flipped it open, and jumped back. That was the one.
Sirens wailed a block away. Noah glared at Carlos and I could tell something wasn’t right. Noah, wait for the police!
Noah took a step back from the crate. “Screw you!” he said to Carlos. He slammed his foot into the top edge of the crate. It rocked, tipping on its edge. Carlos rushed forward to push it back. He grabbed hold of the open edge with two hands and a snake reared up and struck him on the wrist. He screamed out in pain and dropped to the ground, wailing. The crowd gasped. Carlos rolled around on the pavement, holding his wrist in his hand, blathering in Spanish.
Noah kicked the crate again and knocked it over. The fer-de-lance tumbled from the top and landed in an s-coil next to Carlos. Shrieks and cries of fear rippled through the crowd. The snake uncoiled and shot across the road, the crowd parting for it. It disappeared in the grass.
Left on the road next to Carlos was a tangle of boa constrictors, fat and sluggish. But no drugs.
Noah, Jack and Doug smashed the crate to bits looking for a hidden compartment. Something. But there was nothing else. They ripped apart the other two crates. Nothing.
The police cars came around the corner. Jack and Doug took off at a dead run. Dan and Sierra had already disappeared among the tourists. Noah picked up a boa, then another, scanning the pavement beneath them, shaking his head. There was nothing there.
Dammit! We’d been so sure. The poisonous snake was there. Carlos had been driving, not Paco. What had we missed? I held my head, a sinking sensation threatening to take me down. All this for nothing. Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!
I watched helplessly as an officer put Noah in handcuffs and another questioned Amanda and Colette.
This didn’t make sense. Why was there a fer-de-lance in the crate if there were no drugs? One poisonous snake. One lousy snake wouldn’t bring much on the black market. It was hardly worth the trip. We needed for him to get arrested. But now, especially since he’d been ambushed by activists, he probably wouldn’t even get a slap on the wrist for possession.
I smirked. At least the snake had given him more than a slap. But it wouldn’t help me catch Maria.
I stared at the boas lying on the ground. Why would he put a poisonous snake in with them? Legal species. The fat, lethargic things barely moved, as if they’d just been fed—holy crap, that’s it! No wonder Carlos was so confident.
I looked around. Would they confiscate the snakes as evidence? Examine them? What if they didn’t?
I stepped from the crowd. “Excuse me, sir,” I said to the officer who had cuffed Noah. “I’m sorry to interrupt.”
“Quédese atrás,” he said, holding his hand out in the universal sign to stop.
“No, no, the snake, look at the snake,” I said, pointing.
“I need you to stay back,” he said in English, stepping toward me.
I held up my hands. “I understand,” I said. “I’m a veterinarian. From the U.S. I just happened to notice, there’s something very wrong with these snakes. Do you mind?” I stepped toward the boas.
“Get back,” the officer told me, his voice stern.
“But they might die,” I pleaded, giving him my best doe eyes. “Please. I just want to check on them. Please.”
He looked to the other officer who shrugged.
“Gracias,” I said. I got down on my knees and took the fattest boa in my arms. I ran my hands down the length of it until I felt the lump. The snake came to life at my touch and wrapped itself around my waist. Behind the lump, I squeezed, pushing the bulge forward, hand over hand like a tube of toothpaste, working the bulge toward the throat. The snake bucked in my arms. “C’mon, give it up,” I told him. I kneaded and rubbed and shoved. I had to get my elbow into it, but managed to get the lump moving toward its mouth.
When it was close, I hollered for the officer to come over. “This snake was fed recently,” I said and squeezed as hard as I could below its throat. The snake writhed and jerked, its mouth unhinged and spread open wide, and a red rubber balloon stuffed with drugs plopped out onto the ground.
The cop’s eyes grew wide. He told me to drop the snake and back away. I did as I was told. He grabbed the radio from his belt and called it in. I backed away further, then a little further, and into the crowd.
Noah watched me go, a big smile on his face.
Once I was several blocks away, I took out my phone and punched the number for Mom. Mr. Strix answered in one ring. “Carlos Mendoza was just arrested for running drugs—”
“How in the world do you know that?”
“It happened right on the street. Everyone saw it.” I had a short window. Carlos was in excruciating pain, so they’d take him straight to the hospital for the antidote, but eventually on to the police station. “Is there any chance you could keep him from making any calls? Have the customs authority hold him for questioning or something. Forty-eight hours would be great.”
“I can try, but why—”
“I have a hunch.”
CHAPTER 16
The cooler had been dragged out to the bonfire. Everyone was there, drinking in celebration. Everyone except Noah.
“Even though they saw the drugs, they still arrested Noah,” I said.
Doug, tipping a beer, waved it off. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and said, “Noah’ll be fine. He’s been arrested before. No big deal.”
Jack handed me a beer. “He’ll be out in twenty-four hours.”
I hoped they were right. I couldn’t do anything for him without jeopardizing my job. I looked to Amanda and Colette. “Did you get the phone?”
“Right here,” Colette said and dug it out of her handbag. “It was in the cab of the truck.”
“Good,” I said. I scrolled through the numbers to find Maria’s. “Excellent. Amanda, you have the web thing ready?”
“Yep,” she said and handed me a slip of paper. “Here’s the URL.”
I handed it and the phone to Doug. “You’re up.”
Doug took the phone and grinned. He drew in a long breath and his expression changed to one of a ruthless drug dealer. “Okay, I’m ready,” he said.
He punched send and held the phone to his ear. We all waited, silent. After a few moments, he said, “Listen to me very carefully. Your brother has been a very naughty boy. If you ever want to see him alive again, you’ll pay what he owes. Two hundred thousand dollars.” He listened. “Well, you see, the thing is, my boss is not a patient man. By midnight. Or he dies.” He looked at me as he listened, his eyebrows raised. Then finally, “Good. You’ll transfer the money through a web site. I’m only going to give you this address once. Are you ready?” There was a long pause then he rattled off the URL. “And just in case he means less to you than we thought, we’ll come for those sweet little dogs next.” He disconnected.
I let out my breath.
“What’d you think?” he grinned. “What’d you think about the dogs? Nice touch, huh?”
I took the phone from him and ripped it open. I took out the battery and smashed the chip with a rock, then threw it into the fire. “Now we wait,” I said. “You guys were fantastic today. I can’t thank you enough.”
Colette laughed. “I’m not sure the VW fared well, but it was worth it. Noah won’t care.”
“What if she doesn�
��t pay?” Amanda asked.
“She will,” I said.
“But I don’t understand,” she said. “Why’d you have her pay a ransom?”
“Pressure. I want to tick her off. A hit in the pocketbook ought to do the trick. Not to mention she wants to strangle Carlos herself right about now.” I grinned. “But most of all, she’s worried, wondering how much this new guy on the block will impact her business. I wouldn’t want to be at her house right now.”
“Yeah, she’s probably pacing in circles, making her little dogs dizzy,” Doug said with a grin.
“Now what?” asked Jack. “We storm her house?”
“Now we wait.” I shook my head. I couldn’t believe these guys.
Jack nodded and apparently felt waiting was a good time to be drinking because he flipped the top off the cooler and started passing cold bottles around.
My phone buzzed. It was Dalton. “Excuse me,” I said and walked toward the tree house. “Hello?”
“Hey, it’s me,” he said. “What are you up to?”
“I’m, uh, at the beach. Enjoying a virgin margarita.”
“Yeah, George cancelled cards tonight.”
Interesting. “Did he say why?”
“No, but he seemed irritated about something.”
Good. Very good.
“I thought maybe we could get dinner.”
Are you serious? Just what I need right now. “Okay,” I said. What else could I say? “I’ll meet you back at the bungalow.”
I shuffled back down to the fire. “I’ve gotta go,” I said.
“What? What about Maria and the ransom?”
“You’ll have to let me know.”
Dalton was showered, shaved, and all dressed up. “Let’s go someplace nice,” he said.
I changed into the cotton sundress, the only remotely formal attire I had, and we headed for the restaurant at the Playa de Delfines resort. Dalton pulled up to the front door, got out of the car and ran around to open my door for me. He offered his arm and we entered the restaurant, happy newlyweds, as the valet drove away with the car.
Candles flickered atop tables covered with white linens. The aroma of fresh fish and seafood wafted on the sea breeze. The clink of silverware on fine china mixed with the murmur of intimate conversations.
We got to our table, a table for two on the deck overlooking the ocean, and Dalton pulled out my chair for me. He certainly was making an effort.
As he sat, he said to the waiter, “We’d like a bottle of wine. The lady will choose.”
I smiled. “Your house red will be fine. Thank you.”
I looked at Dalton and he looked at me. He seemed nervous. A Navy SEAL, nervous. “I was hoping…” He made sure he had my attention. “I was hoping we could start over.”
He continued to surprise me. “How do you mean?”
“I tried to apologize today and, well, I blew it.” He managed an uncomfortable grin. “Obviously.”
I shook my head. “You didn’t blow it. It was me.” Oh man! “My mom always said I could hold a grudge.”
“I didn’t exactly give you a reason to like me,” he said, his voice thick.
I smiled. “That’s for sure.”
He let out a short, half laugh, a sigh of relief really. “Yeah.”
I grinned. The candlelight was warm, cozy. “You’re kinda growing on me, though.”
The waiter arrived with the wine. He poured the test sample. I sipped. It was fine. I gave him a nod, then he poured a glass for each of us. Dalton raised his, taking hold of it by the stem this time I noticed. “To a fresh start,” he said.
I lifted my glass to meet his. “To a fresh start.”
His eyes met mine and they softened. “I was an ass. I’m sorry.”
“Yes, you were.” I grinned. “But I’ve been a pain in the ass, too, so, you know.”
He laughed, a light, easy laugh. I could tell he was already feeling relaxed. He smiled and his eyes seemed to light up. “I know what you’re feeling. It’s frustrating. But you’ll make it to Special Ops someday. No doubt in my mind. You’ve got what it takes. I can see it in you. It just takes patience.”
“Yeah, patience,” I said. “Not exactly my strong suit.”
“It’ll happen.” He smiled again and I noticed how the color of his eyes seemed to change from brown to a hazel-green, taking on the hue of the green shirt that fit snuggly over his shoulders. I pictured him in his dress uniform, crisp and cut. My cheeks flushed. I felt like one of those cheerleaders, swooning over the hot soldier who was home on leave.
“What?” he said. “I mean it. You’ll be great.”
“Thanks,” I said. I glanced at my phone. No word yet from Amanda. “What made you want to be an agent? For that matter, what made you want to be a SEAL?”
“Oh, you know. Why does any SEAL want to be a SEAL?”
I nodded. They were a different breed, that was for sure.
“I knew I couldn’t be a career SEAL, though. I mean, I loved the job, don’t get me wrong. But I wanted to have another life, you know, kids.” He shrugged, disappointment in his face.
“But your marriage…?”
“Navy wives,” he said, matter-of-fact.
I grew up a Navy brat. I knew exactly what he meant. “I’m sorry,” I said. “The crack about your divorce the other day crossed the line. I’m really sorry.”
He nodded. “It is what it is.” He shook his head. “And the girls back home…”
“Where’s home?”
“Montana. I grew up hunting and fishing. Loved the outdoors.”
I nodded. A lot of Fish and Wildlife agents had similar backgrounds.
He took another sip of wine. “As far as the undercover work, well, I’ve got no ties and I’m good at it.”
I glanced at my phone. Nothing.
“Do you have somewhere to be?” he asked.
“What? Why?”
“The phone.”
“Oh, no. Just checking the time.”
His brows raised. He wasn’t satisfied with my answer.
“Sorry, habit I guess.” I tucked it under my thigh so I’d feel it vibrate if I got a text. “I just realized,” I said. “I don’t even know your first name.”
His expression didn’t change. “Everyone calls me Dalton.”
“Isn’t that your last name?”
He nodded slightly. “You can call me Dalton.”
“All right.” Mental note. Dig into that story.
I smiled. He smiled. There was a big awkward space you could steer a cruise ship through.
The waiter arrived to take our order. I chose the Pasta Primavera and Dalton ordered the Surf and Turf—tenderloin, rare, and grilled lobster.
I sneaked a peek at my phone. Nothing. I glanced at Dalton and suddenly felt like a complete fool. What if what I’d done backfired? What if I blew our cover to smithereens and everything he’d been working toward? Or worse?
I shook it off. She’ll pay. She’s gonna pay. And then she’ll come running to us.
“So what’s your story?”
He caught me off guard. “What?”
“You’re a vegetarian.” He gave me a sympathetic smile. “By the way, that first night, I felt bad for you, but you were a trooper, chewing away on that prime rib.”
I smirked.
“Don’t worry. No one else noticed.”
“Yeah, but how’d you know?”
He cocked his head to the side. “I was sitting right next to you.”
I sighed. Damn. I thought I’d covered pretty well.
“I know you’re into yoga. But that’s it. Oh, and you were a Navy brat. Overseas?”
“My mom was a physician on the Mercy. We were in the Philippines for awhile.” I hesitated. He didn’t need my whole life story. “High school in San Diego. Which SEAL team were you?”
“Three.”
“So you were West Coast.”
He nodded, impressed. “That’s right. But you’re changing the
subject back to me. You’re good at that.”
I shrugged. It was true. I twirled my bracelet around my wrist.
“That’s a beautiful bracelet,” he said. “I’ve noticed you never take it off.”
I nodded. “My father gave it to me. It was the last…” I looked into Dalton’s eyes. “It was the last time I saw him.” I shook my head. “I should have been there with him.”
“What do you mean? What happened?”
I shook my head. “I was in school, my freshman year. I should have been there with him. If he hadn’t been alone…”
Dalton waited, giving me time before finally asking, “What are you saying?”
“My father was killed by poachers. I know it. I was told it was an accident, but I know where he was. They’d threatened him in the past, but my dad, he was stubborn.”
“Poppy, listen to me. If you’d have been there, you probably would have been killed, too.”
I stared off into space, into the past, when my phone buzzed and I jerked in my seat. Dalton eyed me with suspicion.
“You know,” he said. “Maria came out to the golf course this evening. She seemed agitated.”
“Oh?” I said and took a gulp of wine.
“She talked to George, then he canceled the card game with no explanation, and she led him away by the nose.”
“Really? What do you think that was all about?”
“I don’t know, but we leave day after tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow morning you should stop in, make friends. See what you can find out. You can ride over with me.”
“All right,” I said. No way. I couldn’t go there tomorrow morning. If I showed up on her doorstep, it would ruin everything I had going. She had to call me. I’d have to think of an excuse. “I should take something. I saw a bakery in town. We could stop on the way and get a torta chilena or something.”
He eyed me and I couldn’t read what he was thinking. “Okay,” he finally said.
Our dinner arrived. As the waiter placed Dalton’s plate in front of him, I stole a second to glance down at my phone. Text from Amanda read: Done.
Operation Tropical Affair: A Poppy McVie Adventure (Poppy McVie Series Book 1) Page 15