She stiffened. Oh, God. She'd forgotten to turn the bug back on after she'd completed her last errand for Luis. The one that would allow her to fulfill Eve's request. If Foster found out about—
"Well?"
She tightened her grip on the receiver—and lied. "I'm sorry. I fell asleep. I am recovering from surgery, you know. I must have forgotten to turn it back on when I woke." If she'd hoped to prick his conscience, she'd failed.
His next base curse told her that. "I don't care if you snore loud enough to wake the dead, leave it on next time."
Jerk. He could have e-mailed her and told her it was off. She'd checked the miniature laptop shortly before she'd linked up with Tom in her cousin's study. Her electronic mailbox had been empty—still. She opened her mouth to tell him so and promptly closed it. Footsteps. Closing in on the hallway from inside the bar. Heavy footsteps. A man's.
Tom?
She spun around. Relief seared as she spotted a local with his date. The kids ignored her as they passed by, kissing briefly before they parted ways to push through their respective restroom doors. Two more women followed the girl out. The cokeheads. One stopped to wipe her nose one last time before reentering the bar. Anna spun back to the phone, back to Foster, anxious to get to the point of her call.
He beat her to the punch. "What do you have?"
Nothing but a lousy case of frayed nerves. She wrapped her fingers around the metal cord and lowered her voice as far as she could. "I was hoping you'd have something—on him."
"Who?"
She tightened her grip and hissed, "You know damned well who. Tom Wild." Foster wanted to punish her for turning off his listening device? Fine. But that didn't explain why his initial check on Tom hadn't been in her e-mail box this morning as promised. "Well? What did you find out?"
"Nothing."
No bloody way. With everything this guy had managed to dig up on her, and he had nothing on a man supposedly as dirty as Tom? Unless she was right and Tom was Manny's replacement. "Maybe—"
"He's not."
"How can you be sure? You just told me you don't have anything on him."
"I also told you I'm working on it. Check your e-mail. I should have something for you by tomorrow. The day after at the outside."
"Two days? I don't have that long. We might not have that long. Carnaval kicks off in four, lasts for another four. That's our window."
She could feel his excitement surge. "Wild told you?"
"No. I'm guessing." She was pretty sure Tom had been, too. Luis seemed intent on making her wait until the last minute, why not Tom? All she knew for certain was that Luis was looking to make a statement. That meant the Canal. Or bodies. Tom Wild might be a hired thug, but he was still ex-Army. His arguments against the Canal made sense. The Bridge of the Americas, too. "We were talking. Wild thinks he's going to be tasked with rigging something along the parade route or perhaps in a club." Hell, some bastard had shot off a can of pepper spray in a New York club just last week. Thirty-one partygoers had been trampled to death trying to escape. God only knows how many would have died if the chemical had been deadly.
Anna gasped as the suspicion hit.
"What is it? Someone coming?"
She glanced over her shoulder out of habit. Another working girl had turned into the hall, but she was the least of Anna's concerns. Still, she dropped her voice to a bare whisper. "No. Wild's file."
"I told you I'd send it—"
"Not yours. My cousin's. The report his private eye compiled. According to the man's DD-214, Wild was primarily a demolitions operator, but he also cross-trained as a Special Forces medic." Foster should have seen that already, at least.
"So?"
She blinked. Was the man really that much of a desk-jockey? She sighed. "So, think about it. Medics are familiar with biological and chemical warfare. Effects, treatment." Anthrax, smallpox, sarin, ricin, a host of other nerve and blister agents…and worse. Oh God. "He didn't even blink at the thought of bombing a club. What if he volunteers to rig something deadlier? Like a chemical or biological release during Carnaval?"
"Relax. You said it yourself. Four days to kickoff. Wild would have to be smart enough to have arranged his connections beforehand, just in case."
"Trust me, this guy is smart." Juju. "And he definitely has connections. So does Luis." Her cousin had already expanded from Colombian coke to running Russian AK-47s. What was stopping him from taking his crimes one step farther?
She could tell by Foster's sigh that he didn't agree. "Your cousin's cracked, but I don't think he's—"
"You didn't see the look in his eyes when he went after Manny. I did." She shuddered at the memory. The blood. She never should have told Foster about that pen. And she never should have let him plant an active bug inside it. She certainly never should have come back here.
If she knew what was good for her, she'd write off her career and leave now. Save her life.
Carnaval. All those kids. She closed her eyes. It was a mistake. The lack of sight caused her other senses to ratchet up. The ache in her chest ratcheted with them. She opened her eyes and sucked in her breath. Her resolve returned along with the stench of cigar smoke. Still, she had to get out of here. Soon. "Look, you've got to find out if the guy has the connections to rig a chemical release. Start with La Iguana Azul. It's a bar in an alley a couple blocks off—"
"I know it."
"Good. The owner's supposed to be an old Army buddy of Wild's. Goes by the nickname Juju. Get me something I can hold over both their heads while you're at it, and get it soon."
"Fine, but you get me something in return. Something I can use this time, like a date and a place. Better yet, hard evidence that hasn't been botched. Evidence even your cousin's police cronies can't refute, much less keep off a warrant."
She was working on it. Not that she planned on telling him that. Not the way he'd double-crossed her. If it worked out, fine. If not, it was one less stressor. The throb her chest was putting out was enough as it was. So were those pills in her purse. The purse she didn't have. She definitely had to get going.
"Where are you anyway?"
"The Iguana."
"What? You're there now?"
Anna stiffened and not because the bathroom door opened again, admitting another woman into the hall. It was the suspicion in Foster's voice. The disgust. Bad enough she had to hear it from Tom. She did not need it from this jerk. Not when it was his fault she was taking the things. Anna bit down on her tongue, at the irony of the betrayal. Sam was wrong. Dr. Matthews hadn't chosen this particular prescription, Foster had. Somehow, Foster knew she'd been on the verge of becoming hooked in college. She'd realized that as soon as the anesthesia had worn off. Unfortunately, she had no choice but to swallow her first and subsequent doses. Foster had left her no choice.
"Well? What's gotten into you. Are you h—"
"No, dammit."
"Then what's wrong?"
"Didn't you hear me? I'm in a bar. A public bar. And, yes, the jerk who runs it is selling more than burgers and booze. But the reason I'm in this bar is because you haven't done your job. You remember? The answers you were supposed to have for me, at the very least, the dirt I could use?"
"Calm down. I told you, I need another day or two."
"And I told you, I don't have two days." The rate she was going, she might not make it through the night. "That bug in my breast might not be live right now, but it was last night. You heard Luis. He wants me to sleep with the man, and Tom Wild is not opposed to going along."
"So do it."
She nearly dropped the phone. "You can't be serious?" She clamped down on her jaw and her shock as two more locals turned into the hall and headed for the bathroom. The second after the door closed, she opened her mouth. "Don't bother answering. I don't care if you are. I won't whore for Luis and I sure as hell won't do it for you." Not even if Foster had done his homework, too.
The nausea returned as footfalls closed in on the doorway once more. Like t
he set she'd heard when she placed the call, these were heavy. Definitely a man's tread. Tom's? If the prostitute hadn't been successful, they probably were. She wouldn't put it past him to come looking for her. Anna glanced at her watch. She hadn't realized she'd taken so long. Pepe would be arriving soon. "I have to go. I might have something soon. Until then, you do your part."
The footsteps turned into the hall as she hung up the phone. She swung back, certain they were Tom's. She was wrong. They belonged to Juju. How much had he heard?
How much would he tell Tom?
Juju just stood there. The seriousness in his dark eyes at total odds with the explosion of flowers on his shirt. She had the impression he wanted to say something to her and it didn't concern her call. The prostitute? Had Tom left with her already? The thread of pity confirmed it.
As if she cared. Dammit, she didn't.
She stalked down the hallway to prove it, ignoring Juju's effort to make way as she passed. Two steps into the bar, and she realized Juju didn't pity her. He'd been trying to warn her. The prostitute was sitting at another table, clinging to another man. Tom was alone at theirs, with her Coke, his bottle of Scotch and a pair of cold, uneaten burgers still on the table. And he did not look happy.
Chapter 6
It took fourteen steps to reach the table. To reach a silent, seething Tom. Anna knew, because she'd counted each one of them. She'd also counted each and every thud of her own pounding heart, but she wasn't offering up that figure for examination. Not even to herself. Instead, she forced herself to push out her heel and finish that last, perilous step.
"Took you long enough."
Evidently not. He was still here, wasn't he? But Pepe wasn't. She glanced down at her purse, relief swamping her as she noted the leather bag's position on the floor, still crushed up against the left leg of her chair. It hadn't been moved. There was a God after all, it seemed, and he'd finally deigned to take pity on her. For now. "Yes, well, there was quite a line in the ladies' room."
"I'll bet."
She stiffened at the open disbelief in his voice. In that steel blue gaze. First Juju, then Foster, and now him—again. She grabbed the soda from the table and downed what little Tom had left behind, hoping the swallow would cool her ire.
It didn't. She snapped her gaze down to his. Steel-blue had smelted to pure fury. "I was not in there using."
"I believe you."
She searched the molten fire. He was telling the truth, too. Then why was he so pissed?
The hooker? Good Lord, had she stumbled across the only thug for hire in existence with a conscience? Or had she merely pricked the man's pride? It had to be the latter. Either way, she was out of here. Pepe would be arriving any minute. Anna leaned down to snag her purse, slipping a crisp fifty-dollar bill from the center pocket as she straightened. She tossed the bill on the table, meeting Tom's darkening frown as it landed beside the still-full, meticulously placed shot glass.
"For our dinner."
He kept his stare fused to hers as he leaned forward to retrieve the fifty, his gaze beyond smoldering as he held the bill up. "When I ask a woman out on a date, I pay."
She matched his frown with one of her own. "Welcome to the twenty-first century, Mr. Wild. Women pay their own way now." She certainly intended to. She tipped her head toward the bar and the twice-disappointed hooker who'd finally resumed her seat. "But if you've changed your mind about the dessert I sent out, I'm afraid she's on you." Or under him, depending on the man's tastes. Anna turned back to that scorching fury and deliberately cocked her brow. "Or are you having a crisis of conscience about that vice, too? If so, let me reassure you. Prostitution's legal here in Panama. Feel free to indulge."
Before she could turn away, his hand snapped out, closed over her wrist. Hard. Hot. His stare burned hotter.
"Honey, I don't pay for sex. Ever."
No, she didn't think he did. Hell, the hooker probably would have done him for free. She ignored the now raging fire in the man's eyes as well as his searing palm as she used her free hand to calmly slip the leather strap of her purse over her shoulder. That done, she simply waited. There was no need to fight him. With several diners already openly gaping in their direction, it was only a matter of time before he'd be forced to release her arm.
Whether he wanted to or not. And he did not want to.
Fortunately for her, Pepe had arrived, his timing as impeccable as it had been all those years ago. Her childhood neighbor took one look at Tom's hand, still fused to hers, and vaulted forward. She shook her head sharply. Pepe wasn't happy about it, but he stopped in his tracks, two feet shy of Juju's bouncer. He shot Tom a filthy frown as he stepped back to mark time none too patiently at the crowded door. She dragged her stare to Tom's. His smile held little humor as he slowly loosened his grip and then withdrew his hand altogether.
"I see you managed to call your gorilla without your cell phone, your purse…or your change." She waited as he, too, glanced at the hooker she'd sent out before returning to her. Those searing pools of blue had finally cooled to hard ice as the extent of her impromptu bargain sank in. "How much did I go for?"
"Ten cents."
For a man who'd never paid, he took it well. She knew better than to push it. She also knew it was time to leave. Anna tucked her purse beneath her arm and turned, more unnerved than she wanted to admit when she heard Tom's chair scrape away from their table. He didn't say a word as she threaded her way through the tables and gawking patrons with as much composure as she could muster. He didn't have to. Those slow, measured footfalls directly behind her said it for him. What did he want from her? Did he honestly expect her to give him a lift back to his hotel? Why would he even want one? She refused to turn around long enough to ask.
Yet.
She'd wait until they were safely out of here, away from a crowd that could very well contain someone who knew her cousin on a business level, then she'd have Pepe call him a cab and physically place the man inside it if he had to. Tom's footsteps drew noticeably closer as she reached the rope barrier and the Iguana's bouncer. She stopped short. So did Tom. He didn't touch her though. Again, he didn't have to. She could feel the heat radiating off his chest and into her back as they paused to wait for the bouncer to release the rope and motion them through. She eased her breath out as she skirted the line of half turistas, half locals. Five more paces and she'd be at Pepe's protective side.
And then, she was there.
She welcomed the thick fingers that spread out at the small of her back, whisking her away from Tom and through the door into the hot, humid night. She blessed Pepe and his decision to ignore the No Car warning at the head of the alley. Ten more paces and she'd be home-free. Her relief spilled into her smile as Pepe clicked the electronic key in his right fist and opened the rear door wide with his left.
"Gracias, Pepe. Llame por favor una cabina para el Señor Wild."
"Ms. Shale?"
She froze. Pepe growled. She shook her head sharply and turned back to the owner of that deceptively quiet voice. Something inside it warned her it was in her best interest not to ignore it. But she had to try. "Surely you'd rather not walk to your hotel in this heat? Or perhaps you intend on staying and visiting with your friend?"
"Neither."
"Then I suggest you take the cab, Mr. Wild. I'd drop you, but your hotel is in the opposite direction. It's late and I need to be up early. I have errands to run." Both excuses were true. Not to mention that, given the increasing strength of the throb in her chest, maintaining her composure was becoming increasingly difficult. "Now, if you'll excuse me—"
"Certainly. I'd hate to interfere with a woman's beauty rest. Especially when the results are so visibly rewarding. I just thought you'd like to know you were missing something before you leave. Something you seem…attached to."
The pills.
His eyes glittered beneath the oversize neon iguana above his head as he nodded slowly, silently answering the question she was deathly af
raid to voice. Even in front of Pepe. "It seems it—they—rolled out on the floor while you were in the powder room."
The hell they had. The jerk had rifled through her purse in the middle of a crowded bar. Long enough to find the "invisible" compartment Foster had touted. Tom obviously intended to use the pills as leverage. For what, she had no idea. Nor could she demand Tom hand the vial over—because he was right. Pepe had developed a crush on her. She wouldn't put it past Pepe to tell Luis about those pills for what he'd believe was her own good. And if Luis saw those pills, let alone the ring Sam had secreted among them…
Her stomach roiled at the mere thought.
If Sam's gift didn't scream undercover, she didn't know what did. Especially since she'd promised Luis months ago that she wanted nothing more to do with the U.S. or the Navy. If Luis had slaughtered Manny over a bug in his pen, he'd torture her for days over that ring. And then he'd murder her. She no longer cared who Tom might work for. She couldn't afford to.
She took a chance and stepped away from the limo, from the man she knew all too well, right up to the man she didn't know at all…except that right now, whether he knew it or not, he held her very life in his hands. She blessed the group of pre-Carnaval revelers who stumbled out of the bar behind them, using their bawdy conversation to conceal her own from Pepe as the men made their way up the alley on foot.
"What are you suggesting?" Because he did want something in return for those pills. Why else had he taken them?
"How about a walk?"
Her shock must have shown because he shrugged.
"Why not?" He tipped his forehead toward the tipsy men as they reached the corner of the bodega beyond the bar. "They're doing it. It's cooled down. I'm in the mood to stretch my legs before bed…and you do know the sights."
She did and it had cooled off. But a walk? Without Pepe? No way. "I told you. I have to get up early."
"So do I." His sigh spilled out between them, rife with deliberate regret as he peeled off the jacket to his suit and folded it over his arm. Too deliberate. "I supposed I could always walk alone. But then I'd probably get lost, be late for my own meeting. And then, heck, who knows how long it would be before I'd make it over to the hacienda to drop off your—"
A Dangerous Engagement Page 9