by Joanna Wayne
Hawk stepped away and started to pace. “What’s going on with the search now?”
“The FBI has assured me the case is still active.”
“What exactly does that mean?”
“I’m not sure. I haven’t had an update in over three months.”
“Do they think the kidnapping was a revenge crime related to someone your husband arrested?”
“They did at first. Now Craig believes it was probably random.”
“What do you think?”
“I trust Craig’s judgment. I have no reason not to. He worked with Todd on a daily basis. Only…”
Only Craig, and the agents he’d assigned to help with the case, hadn’t found Lucy. The growing doubts she’d tried to deny crowded her mind. Craig had his faults, especially in the personal morals department, but he was a capable agent. Even Todd admitted that.
Hawk stopped pacing and straddled a chair next to hers. “I’d like to talk to the agent heading up the investigation.”
“Why?”
“Sometimes a fresh mind and viewpoint can help.”
“I wish I believed that, but there’s nothing to view.”
“No one disappears without a trace, Alonsa.”
But Lucy had. If there was a lead, the FBI would have found it. Having Hawk talk to Craig wouldn’t change anything and would likely just aggravate Craig and stop him from assigning the case to a top agent.
“I’m sorry, but the FBI is handling the case and I don’t see how your talking to them can possibly help.”
“It can’t hurt. A new person can spot mistakes a lot faster than the guy who’s made them.”
The comment provoked her. Hawk only knew the little she’d told him. He hadn’t been here through the months of anguish, hadn’t gone through the agony of building up hope with every minuscule lead only to have it blow up in her face. He didn’t have a clue how deeply involved Craig and his team had been in the case.
She tapped her fingers on the table’s edge. “Why would you assume they’ve made mistakes?”
“They haven’t found your daughter.”
“And you think you can?”
“Yeah. I do.”
This discussion had crossed a dozen lines she hadn’t seen coming. Did this man she barely knew really expect her to hire him to search for Lucy? A dull throb started at the back of her skull. Her stomach rolled.
The whole idea was ludicrous. Then again, what did she have to lose, other than her sanity, if she gathered hope again only to have it dissolve into emptiness? Or if she failed to give Brandon any kind of normal life because she was caught up in a revived investigation that would tear her apart on a daily basis.
And then there were the financial considerations. Hawk worked for Cutter and she was certain their services didn’t come cheap. A private investigation would require money she didn’t have because she’d already spent a large portion of Todd’s insurance on traveling the country that first year, putting up flyers and appearing on every TV station and talk-radio program that would let her plead for information about her missing child.
Yet if there was even a ghost of a chance…
She raised her eyes and met Hawk’s dark penetrating gaze. Something seemed to give way, as if the cords holding her together were beginning to fray.
“Exactly what are you suggesting, Hawk?”
“That I conduct my own investigation into Lucy’s disappearance. That you give me full access to any and all information you have or can get from the FBI. That you work with me and answer every question honestly. That you have a little faith in my ability.”
“And if you don’t find her?”
“You’ll be no worse off than you are now.”
And if he succeeded, she’d have Lucy home again. Unless…The possibilities swelled inside her and her breath burned as if she were inhaling pure acid. They’d found no trace of Lucy, but that had let her maintain the hope that Lucy was alive. What if she wasn’t? What if she’d died at the hands of some pervert? Could Alonsa bear knowing the certainty of that?
Hawk reached across the space between them and took her hands in his. “I realize you know nothing about me, Alonsa, that you have no reason to trust me, but you can talk to Cutter. He’ll vouch that I have a talent for smoking out facts where none seem to exist. I’m not bragging. It’s just how it is.”
Not bragging. Not arrogant. Just sure of himself. It went with the Special Ops territory, she suspected. It was his reason for being so quick to want to jump into this that she couldn’t decipher. And there was still the cost.
“Even if I want to hire you, I’m not sure I can afford you.”
“You won’t have to pay anything except reasonable expenses. An economy flight from time to time. A cheap hotel when the need arises. Frogmen aren’t used to first class.”
“You can’t work for nothing.”
“I can do what I want for now. Once I start the new assignment with Cutter my time for this will be limited, but I can move on this full speed until then. So the sooner we rev the engines, the better.”
He had answered all her questions but one. “Why, Hawk? Why would you do this for a virtual stranger?”
“I like the way you dance. And it’s the right thing to do.”
HAWK TOOK THE LONG way back to the Double M. Scenes from the past pummeled his mind as he drove the dark meandering roads through lonesome strands of pine. Flying over enemy territory searching for a fellow frogman who hadn’t returned from a mission. Swimming beneath the current with the body of a fallen buddy strapped to him like a second skin.
No man left behind.
He’d lived by that vow in the ragged mountains of Afghanistan and in Middle Eastern deserts so hot he’d felt as if his blood were boiling. Now he was back in America and out of uniform, but the vow seemed no less important. A little girl torn from her mother and dragged into who knew what. Didn’t Alonsa deserve to find her daughter or at least get some kind of closure?
A major concern right now was just how much of this was about him and what he needed. He’d been out of the service for months now and still he hadn’t found any kind of groove. That’s why he’d joined up with Cutter.
Becoming a SEAL had made him part of a team that tackled everything that was thrown at them with never a thought of failure. No one had been more surprised than he was to discover how much he missed being a part of that team and of something bigger than himself.
The only real drawback to taking on this case was the sizzling attraction that had hit the first moment he’d laid eyes on Alonsa. The way she’d moved on the dance floor. The way she’d felt in his arms when they two-stepped their way through the sultry country-western ballad. The way she’d looked in that chair, with her legs curled up under her. Even the way she’d poured him a cup of coffee.
Hell, everything about her turned him on.
But seducing her was not in the rules of engagement. It would make him less effective, might even complicate their relationship to the point where working together would become impossible. Worse, it would be taking advantage of her weakest vulnerability.
He’d just have to keep his libido under control, at least until the job was done. That would require seeing her without touching her on a regular basis and going home to cold showers and an empty bed every night.
And he’d thought the war zone was tough.
ALONSA RINSED BRANDON’S empty cereal bowl, placed it in the dishwasher and poured herself a glass of orange juice. She’d lain awake for most of the night, tossing, turning and vacillating between enthusiasm for Hawk’s offer and a dread that was pitted deep in her soul. A dread that made no sense.
She wanted her daughter back with every fiber of her being, prayed for it perpetually, had spent an entire year so consumed with finding her that she’d sinfully neglected her son. The belief that Lucy was still alive and that someday they’d be reunited was the glue that held her together.
But what if Lucy wasn’t?
&
nbsp; “Mom, come see what I built.”
“Okay, sweetie. I’ll be right there.” She took her juice and ambled to the family room where Brandon had arranged his wooden blocks in a tower that reached his chin.
“It’s a skyscraped.”
“Skyscraper,” she corrected him. “A super-duper one.”
He laughed and knocked it over, scattering the blocks in every direction.
“All that work just to watch it fall?”
“Yeah. It’s fun.”
The hum of an engine in her drive sent a new wave of apprehension slithering along her nerve endings. She went to the front window and watched as Hawk climbed from behind the wheel and started for the house.
Amazingly he looked even more virile than he had last night. His jeans were worn, his shirt a black, collarless knit that hugged his hard frame, not the Western type so many of the local ranchers wore. But the boots and black Stetson insured that genuine, rugged cowboy look.
Yet something set him apart from the other men in the area. Maybe it was the cocky swagger or the determined set of his chin. And suddenly she knew why the apprehension had taken such hold of her.
Hawk was battlefield-hardened and success-proven. If he set out to do something, it wasn’t likely he’d stop until he succeeded. This time that determination would be directed full force at investigating her daughter’s disappearance. She’d finally get answers. She’d find out what happened to Lucy.
But what if the truth was more than her heart could bear?
Her fingers were clammy and her heart was in her throat when she opened the door and ushered him inside.
Chapter Three
Hawk had slept little last night. Nothing unusual for him. When his mind was in gear, his body seemed to refuel on adrenaline. It was that way for most of the frogmen he knew. Maybe that was what set them apart, a trait that had helped them make it through the initial BUD/S training and later take dangerous missions in stride.
In the early hours of the morning, his surge of energy had pushed him through an extensive online search for information on Todd Salatoya. The basic facts were easy enough to locate for someone who knew how to maneuver the intricate maze of informational sites. What Hawk hadn’t been able to find on his own, Cutter’s tech guy Eduardo had sniffed out for him. Actually, he’d waited until seven to call Eduardo. He figured some men slept.
Todd had had an exemplary record as an FBI agent, highly acclaimed. He’d been killed in the line of duty just as Alonsa had said, shot repeatedly by a drug dealer manning an AK-47. It had apparently been a brutal clash in a sting that Todd had masterminded. This time he’d made a few fatal misjudgments and the cartel had been waiting for him.
So Todd Salatoya went down on a bitterly cold winter night and never went home to his beautiful wife and two kids. Merely weeks later his daughter had been abducted from the Houston Zoo.
In spite of Craig’s insistence to the contrary, it was highly possible that the two were related—a payback against Todd’s family or a warning to other agents not to mess with the cartel. If so, Hawk might be about to open a load of trouble for himself and, worse, for Alonsa.
His insides tightened as he took the short walk from his truck to Alonsa’s front door. This definitely wasn’t what he’d expected when he’d driven Alonsa home last night. Then he’d been a man following his libido. Not that he’d be able to just turn off his sexual urges where she was concerned. Some men claimed they could. Hawk figured they lied.
What went on in the hormonal realm was beyond his control. What he did about that attraction was what mattered here. Hawk was a champion in the behavioral control game, which was why he wouldn’t try to jump Alonsa’s bones.
In the meantime, he had plenty to focus on. If there was even a chance that little girl was still alive, she needed to be returned to her mother. He’d play this as if she were alive and that any wrong move could work against finding her.
Alonsa opened the door before he knocked. She was dressed in jeans and a sweater the color of the Caribbean Sea. Her long dark hair was pulled into a knot at the back of her head with long silky strands left to hang loose and dance about her shoulders. She wore no apparent makeup but her full lips were soft and glossy. Her dark lashes curved above her bewitching eyes.
Reel it in, Hawk. This is strictly business.
IT WAS THE FIRST TIME in a year that Alonsa had been forced to go over the details of her husband’s death, though it had never stopped haunting her. Still, she described the events to Hawk as precisely as possible.
Hawk listened without interruption until she’d run out of emotional steam and sank back in the big overstuffed chair by the window. She kicked off her leather slides and curled her left foot up in the chair with her.
“What I know about that night came from Craig. Before Todd’s death, I never knew much about what he actually did,” she admitted reluctantly.
“Is that because it was classified?”
“Partly, but we had decided early in the marriage that the less I knew about the danger he dealt with the better.”
“Makes sense.”
Actually they’d quit communicating about much of anything except the children those last few months, but no reason to go into that with Hawk.
“Were most of his assignments in the New York area?”
“No. He was frequently gone for months at a time.”
“That must have been hard on the marriage.”
“I stayed busy,” she said, avoiding a direct answer. Busy with her children. They’d spent hours at the park. Lucy had loved the park. She maneuvered the climbing apparatus better than the older kids and almost never fell. Once she…
Alonsa reined in the thoughts as pain threaded itself through the membranes of her heart.
“Maybe we should take a break,” Hawk said, obviously recognizing the signs of a woman about to crater on him.
She nodded her agreement. “I need to check on Brandon. I worry when he’s too quiet. There’s no end to what a curious three-year-old can get into.”
She stretched to her feet, but didn’t bother to slip back into her shoes. Her bright teal socks mocked her gray mood as she padded to the small play alcove just off the kitchen.
Originally the space had held a large farmhouse table surrounded by tall wooden chairs and benches. But she’d needed Brandon close to her, constantly in her sight for the first year after Lucy’s abduction. Even now, she liked having him nearby so that she heard him immediately if he called out to her.
Brandon had given up on building towers and had constructed a ranch with his blocks and plastic animals, complete with a riding arena for the toy horses Linney had bought him. Carne was gnawing on a short length of rope. The well-chewed, soggy knot was his favorite toy.
“Would you like a juice box?” she asked.
“Cherry.” Brandon sat one of his cowboys on top of a horse. “Can I have a cookie, too?”
“Sure. One cookie and some juice coming up.”
“I want to go outside and ride my tractor.”
“As soon as my guest leaves.”
“Make him go home now.”
“We still have things to talk about.”
“Talk to me, Mommy. Outside.”
He should probably be outside playing with kids his own age. Even Merlee had suggested Alonsa enroll him in the preschool program at church for at least a few days a week. Alonsa had gotten as far as registering him, but on the morning she was to drop him off, she discovered the class was going on a field trip to a local pumpkin patch.
If she could lose Lucy when they were one-on-one at the zoo, how could a teacher possibly watch Brandon close enough in a group of children? She’d taken him home and given up on the preschool idea altogether.
Brandon and Carne followed her back to the kitchen. Hawk helped himself to a refill of coffee as she handed Brandon his juice. Carne dropped the chew toy from his mouth and made a task of watching Hawk.
It hit Alonsa how str
ange it was to have a man making himself at home in her kitchen. It should have been more awkward than it was, but Hawk had an easy way about him that made her comfortable. And a blatant virility that had the opposite effect.
“Wanna ride my tractor,” Brandon said, directing the comment at Hawk and letting a few crumbles of cookie tumble from the corners of his mouth.
“Remember the rule,” Alonsa reminded him. “Don’t talk with your mouth full. And I told you Mr. Taylor and I have business to discuss.”
“You have a tractor?” Hawk said. “Awesome.”
“It goes fast, too.”
“I’d like to see it.” Hawk glanced at Alonsa. “If it’s okay with your mother.”
“She don’t care, huh, Mom?” He didn’t wait for an answer, but started running toward the back door.
“Get your windbreaker,” she called after him.
“Aww.” Nonetheless, he followed orders and yanked a bright red jacket from a low hook by the mudroom door.
Alonsa retrieved her cell phone from the counter next to the cookie jar and clipped it to the waistband of her jeans. “I suppose we can talk as well outside as in, as long as we stay out of Brandon’s earshot,” she said.
“I don’t see why not. I could use a little fresh air myself.”
Alonsa wasn’t quite sure how to take that. Was it her house in particular Hawk found stifling or houses in general? Not that it mattered. She detoured to the family room for her shoes then followed the both of them outside and into the bright sunshine that characterized living in this part of Texas. It was January, and at midmorning the temperature had already climbed into the high fifties.
“It’s snowing in New York,” she said, thinking out loud.
“Do you miss that?” Hawk asked.
“Not often.”
“Broadway?”