by Joanna Wayne
But right now he had work to do. He started a pot of coffee and then called Cutter. Time to take the show on the road.
JAIME WOKE TO THE SMELL of hot coffee and the sight of Rio standing over her. He was shirtless, his thick hair disheveled and a dark stubble of whiskers liberally dotting his chin. A dose of flagrant virility. She stretched and the sweet ache in her thighs let loose a wave of luscious memories.
“Good morning, gorgeous.” He bent over the bed and kissed her on the mouth with only a fraction of the intensity he’d demonstrated last night.
The lack of passion and the edge to his voice was ample indication there had been news. Anxiety rolled in her stomach as she reached for the coffee cup from his outstretched hand.
“Something’s wrong,” she said. “What is it?”
“What kind of good-morning greeting is that?” He sat on the bed beside her and placed his hand on her bare hip, absently massaging her skin with his thumb.
“The kind of greeting a woman utters to a man who looks as if he’s been dealing with the devil. Did Poncho call?”
“No, but the CIA did.”
“Please don’t tell me there’s bad news about the RKO.”
“Not if no news is good news.”
In this case it clearly wasn’t, she thought. “Are they tailing Buerto?”
“That’s the problem. They can’t locate him. He didn’t go home last night, or if he did, he left before they got their act together.”
“Buerto sounded as if he were under the influence when he called me,” Jaime said. “Maybe he passed out somewhere. He could be with the same guy he showed up with at his office yesterday at dawn.”
“The office has been dark all night.”
She nodded, taking it all in. Her assessment wasn’t good. “So Buerto, Poncho and the RKO have virtually disappeared.”
“For the time being. And time is fast running out. So here’s the deal. You, Cutter, Zach and I are going into Houston this morning to search Buerto’s house for the missing canister or at least a clue as to what might have happened to it and to Buerto.”
“My brother is in on this?”
“Cutter’s idea. I’ll explain later.”
“What if Poncho shows up at the cabin while we’re gone?”
“The CIA will see that he doesn’t, at least not until we have a chance to get back here.”
Anticipation began to take the edge off her jagged nerves. Anything beat waiting for the next deadly surprise to drop.
“It will take us at least two hours to get from here to downtown Houston in morning traffic,” she warned.
“We won’t be in traffic. We’re meeting Cutter at the same place he landed his chopper yesterday. When we get to town, Zach will be at the helipad waiting for us in his double cab pickup.”
“So that’s why he’s invited.”
“That and the fact that he carries a legitimate badge. You never know when you might need that. Besides, Zach’s a good lawman. You don’t have to talk to him long to know that.”
“Zach’s a good man, period. Like you, Rio.” She trailed her fingers up his muscular arm. “Now let’s go fight crime.”
He pulled out his miniature phone. “First Dan Camp wants you to call him. They need your help.”
The CIA needed her. If the situation weren’t so grave, she could really savor that.
CUTTER SET THE CHOPPER DOWN on a Houston high-rise rooftop at exactly seven thirty-eight. They climbed out and took the elevator down to the street-level parking area. It took Jaime only a few seconds to spot Zach standing next to his black truck. He was dressed in his deputy’s uniform and looking conspicuously authoritative. Holding back tears, she ran to him and fell into a bear hug.
“Let me look at you,” he said, when she finally pulled away. His voice cracked a little.
“Don’t go sentimental on me. I’ll cry.”
“We both might. I don’t mind admitting that I was plenty scared when Buerto showed up and announced that you’d been kidnapped by three thugs. When Langston told us about the phone call from Cutter, I was gung ho to ride to the rescue.”
“Thanks for not doing that, Zach. Lives are in jeopardy and I’m doing the right thing. I’m in good hands with Rio.”
“You’d be in better hands at Jack’s Bluff ranch.”
She’d argue that point at a later time. The others had reached them and were waiting for the family reunion to end. She stepped back and made the official introductions, though once they made visual contact, Zach and Cutter vaguely remembered each other from the old rodeo days.
As soon as the hand-shaking was over, Zach opened the back door of his truck, reached inside and came out with three packages. “I have the uniforms, but I suspect Jaime’s will be a bit baggy.”
He passed out the packages.
“No one told me there would be baggy uniforms involved,” she quipped, trying for some levity in this grim situation. “What kind of uniform?”
“A stunning two-piece number with an eye-catching pocket topped by a fashionably monogrammed exterminator emblem. And in your case, the ever-popular baseball cap in a contrasting shade of Astros red is included as a stylish accessory.”
“Me, kill bugs? Very funny.”
Zach smiled. “Yep. I saw you faint over a harmless spider once.”
“It was crawling up my arm, and it didn’t look harmless.”
“There are restrooms in the coffee shop on the corner,” Zach said, quickly getting back to business.
Rio gave him a nod of approval. “Great job.”
“Dressed to kill and a latte,” Jaime said. “This is my lucky day.”
“Be sure and cover your hair completely,” Rio reminded her.
“And leave off the hip wiggle,” Zack added. “Men saunter or swagger.”
She spit onto the sidewalk as she walked away, and then turned back to Zach. “How’s that for manly?”
In spite of the repartee, an underlying sense of expediency prevailed. There would be no respite until the RKO was back in safe hands.
As soon as they were all back in the truck and Jaime had given Zach directions to Buerto’s apartment, the conversation turned to the complications surrounding the ransom.
“I would have never thought we’d be days into the kidnapping and still not have a plan to execute the final payment,” Cutter said.
Zach pulled onto a frontage road. “The ultimatum we gave them is fast approaching.”
“Maybe they really only wanted the million dollars,” Jaime said. “The rest could have been just to throw us off.”
“I doubt that’s the whole story,” Rio said. “Cartels are infamous for using kidnapping as a warning or a payback. Operating funds aren’t really a problem for them.”
Cutter and Rio had taken the backseat, leaving Jaime to sit beside Zach as navigator. She shifted so that she could see Rio. “Maybe someone working at the research center stole the RKO and the cartel needed quick access to liquid assets to pay for it.”
“That’s a possibility,” Rio admitted.
“Poncho could have picked it up from the thief,” she continued, thinking out loud. “He may have killed Luke with it to be certain it worked as described.”
“That might be an accurate theory,” Zach said, “but it doesn’t tell us where that all-important canister is right now. And if we don’t find that, the loss of innocent lives could be tremendous.”
By the time they reached Buerto’s apartment complex, the tension in the truck was almost palpable. Jaime gave Zach the security code for the front gate. He punched it in and the gate swung open.
“Have you been here often?” Zach asked.
“Buerto cooked dinner for me about once a week, and I’ve come alone to drop off price quotes or information he’d requested from various galleries. He didn’t go into his office every day.”
Zach glanced her way. “I’m sorry it worked out this way for you, Jaime. It can’t be easy to realize the man you were so
fond of was using you and that he had no regard for your safety.”
“It infuriates me, but not for the reason you think. I know Buerto’s tried to convince you otherwise, but we weren’t that serious. Feel free to share that tidbit with the rest of the family.”
When the entrance drive came to a crossroad, Jaime gave directions. “Go right. Buerto’s apartment is in building three, a half block down on your right. He’s on the third floor, 301 to be exact. Visitor and service vehicle parking is behind the building.”
Zach rounded the building and pulled into the space on the far end. “How do we do this? I don’t think exterminators usually travel in packs.”
“Why don’t you and Cutter go first?” Rio said. “Jaime and I will follow a couple of minutes behind you. If there’s any reason Jaime shouldn’t go in, cut us off. And remember, put anything you move back exactly as you find it, right down to the angle of a pillow or the position of a book on a shelf.”
“You don’t have to coddle me, Rio. I can handle anything we run into.”
He shot her a look. “Throwing up on a carpet would make it hard to leave the place exactly as we found it.”
“I’m past that now. Besides, I have the key to Buerto’s apartment.” She held it up.
Zach snatched it from her hand. “Thanks, Jaime. And I may as well warn you, Rio. My twin sister has always been an adrenaline junkie.”
Rio smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Rio watched until Zach and Cutter disappeared inside the building, then he shifted restlessly and stepped out of the truck. Jaime joined him. “It looks to be a nice living arrangement,” he said. “Not over-the-top but classy.”
“Buerto said he chose it for the convenience to his office and the roominess. I had no idea at the time that it was all for show.”
“And no doubt to impress you,” Rio added. “Though I’m still not sure why he felt he had to worm his way into your confidence before kidnapping you.”
“Knowing how manipulative and cunning he is, I’m sure there’s method to his madness.” She looked around as they moved forward. “Now that I think about it, he kept asking to go to the ranch to meet my family. Do you think that could have something to do with his luring me into his life?”
“It could be. Meeting them would give him a better idea of whether or not they’d go along with the ransom demands. Hiring you to work in a fake job still seems a bit excessive to me.”
“Maybe he just wanted my body.”
Rio gave her a once-over. “There’s no maybe about it. He’s a man? He wanted you.”
“Hold on to that thought.”
They took the elevator to the third floor. Rio’s hand rested on the small of Jaime’s back as they walked to the end of the hallway. There was no sign of trouble so he pushed Buerto’s door open, glanced around and then stepped aside for Jaime to enter. His first impression was that the apartment was far too cold for human comfort. The next was a mild unpleasant odor that permeated the large open area. He locked the door behind him.
Zach stuck his head around the corner of the kitchen door. “Looks as if our guy left in a hurry. There’s a half-eaten plate of food on the table and a bottle of Negra Modelo sitting next to it that looks as if it was just opened.”
“I’ve never known him to keep the place this cold,” Jaime said as she joined Cutter and Zach in the kitchen. “And he definitely never left his kitchen in a mess.”
Zach opened the cabinet under the sink, pulled out and peeked into the kitchen trash can. “One Styrofoam restaurant take-out box and three empty beer bottles. It must have started out as a cold-beer kind of night. He even switched brands along the way.”
“I’ve only seen him drink Negra Modelo,” Jaime said.
“Then he may have had company.”
Rio took a look at the trash. “The odd bottle is Poncho’s brand.” He grew more wary by the minute of what they might find. His hopes that it would be the RKO were falling fast.
Jaime leaned over the plate of food, sniffed and made a face. “Shrimp and crawfish pasta. No wonder it stinks in here.”
“We should spread out and start searching for the canister of RKO,” Cutter said. “I’ll start in Buerto’s bedroom.”
Jaime followed Cutter. “I’ll start in his study. He has rows of shelves in there, and a canister that small could easily be tucked from view behind books or stacks of papers.”
Rio went back to the living area and looked around for the kind of unexpected niche Buerto would have chosen to hide something he couldn’t afford to have discovered.
He pulled the cushions from the sofa. He found a dime and a ball of lint. There was a large flower arrangement on the mantel. The container was brass, easily large enough to hide the canister. He pulled it down and gingerly poked his finger into the moss and spongy green foam.
No luck.
Rio’s attention diverted when Zach walked into the room with an oval sticker dangling from the end of his finger. He held it at an angle that enabled Rio to read it for himself.
Culpert-Greene Research Center. Extremely Dangerous. DO NOT break seal without required protection.
“I guess we can assume that Poncho made it this far with the canister,” Rio stated.
Zach nodded. “But was that before or after the seal was broken and the chemical used to kill Luke?”
“My guess is before,” Rio said.
The discussion was cut short by a piercing, earsplitting yell.
Jaime.
Rio palmed his gun and took off running. This time he was afraid he’d find something much worse than a nasty insect.
Chapter Thirteen
Jaime was standing over the body. The head had fallen onto the toe of one of her sequined tennis shoes, and his dead eyes stared at her blankly. The blade of a chef’s knife protruded out of his chest.
Rio holstered his weapon and put an arm around Jaime, nudging the wobbly head from her toe with his foot. So much for leaving the apartment exactly as they’d found it.
“I opened the closet door. I didn’t even see him at first. He fell on top of me.”
The words tumbled out of her mouth so fast she was barely intelligible. To her credit, she wasn’t throwing up as before, at least not yet.
“It’s okay, baby. We’re all here with you.”
Rio looked up and saw Zach staring at him. He dropped his arm from around Jaime’s waist as if he’d been caught sneaking cookies before dinner.
Zach moved in to take over the task of comforting Jaime. He put an arm around his sister’s shoulders. “Who is this?” he asked, nodding toward the corpse.
Jaime backed away from the body. “It’s Poncho. He killed Luke and now Buerto must have killed him.”
“Those are all assumptions,” Rio cautioned.
“I think the CIA can forget waiting for Buerto to come back here,” Cutter said. “His closets and drawers have been cleaned out except for one pair of muddy boots and a mismatched pair of socks.”
“Then as far as I’m concerned, this kidnapping fiasco is over,” Zach said. “If Poncho is dead and Buerto is missing, the cartel has more than likely cut bait and run with the RKO. The CIA had best find some other way to recover the missing chemical. They won’t be putting Jaime at risk anymore.”
“Poncho was stabbed,” Jaime said, as if that fact was just sinking in. “His chest is bloody but not convex.”
“That doesn’t mean Buerto didn’t have the RKO with him when he killed Poncho,” Rio said. “He may have had better sense than to handle it himself. One spilled drop and the killer becomes the victim.”
“We should go ahead and search the place thoroughly while we’re here,” Cutter said.
Rio nodded. “But first I’ve got to call the CIA. They can remove the body and decide what they tell the local authorities. A leak to the press about the RKO could throw the entire state of Texas into a panic.”
“I think you’re all jumping to conclusions,” Jaime said. “Buert
o never expected anyone to find the body this soon. He left the AC blasting so the smell of decay wouldn’t build so quickly and alert the building super.”
“What’s your point?” Zach asked.
“Buerto said the kidnappers specifically requested a small plane that could take off and set down on a minimal landing strip. We have to assume they still need that and that they will follow through.”
“I assume the canister of RKO is out of the area by now,” Zach said. “Finding it is up to the CIA and the rest of us in law enforcement. You need to go to Jack’s Bluff and stay there until things are under control.”
Rio was about to agree when Zach’s cell phone rang. Zach punched the talk button and then signaled for them to be silent.
“Hello, Buerto,” he said so that they would all know who he had on the line. They became silent and watched his face for reaction.
“You can’t be more worried about Jaime than her family is,” Zach responded after a moment. “I’m ready to turn this over to the FBI. So are my brothers.” Then, a few seconds later, “Are you sure they’ll follow through?” He nodded to the trio in the room and said, “Just after dark. Got it. Exactly where will the exchange take place?”
Son of a bitch. Rio could only hear Zach’s end of the conversation, but it was enough to convince him that Buerto was still playing the role of concerned boyfriend and negotiator. Jaime was right. The game hadn’t been cancelled. He, Cutter and her brothers would need their game plan in perfect order by dusk.
Rio’s own phone rang immediately after Zach’s conversation ended. He figured Buerto for the caller. It wasn’t. Unless he was mistaken, the voice was the one he’d heard outside Buerto’s office last night, the one Jaime had referred to as Rafa.
“Okay, Rio. I’m calling for Poncho. Here’s the scoop. Listen closely. I’ll only say this once. You’ll get another call near nightfall. When you do, follow the instructions. If for some reason you don’t get the call, kill Jaime and leave her body for the buzzards.”
And if he got the call, they’d still plan to kill her. The cartel had never meant for Jaime to get out of this alive.