Blair spat out what had happened from beginning to end.
“Where’s Gigi?” Holt asked.
“I sent her home for the casserole. I should go to her. Now. Make sure he didn’t do anything.” She bent behind the counter for her purse and keys.
Holt sorted through the section the man had been perusing. “Do you think he stole anything?”
“I don’t think so. I think he wanted to let me know he...he had a hand in Mateo’s death. He knew he collected those boxes. Knew he was murdered in Bogotá.” She fumbled through her purse. “Where are my keys?”
Holt crossed to the counter. “Calm down. We’ll find them.”
Gigi stormed into the store area. Blair gaped.
“Yeah. As if I didn’t know you were trying to get rid of me. You’re keeping things from me again. You promised!”
“I’m not,” Blair insisted. “I haven’t had time to tell you anything. But you can’t be wandering around alone.”
“We have to do something. Call Beckett. Call the... I don’t know... Call the National Guard. Or the DEA. Bring those jokers in. I mean, isn’t it their job to deal with drug cartels? How do you even go about doing that?” Gigi flailed her arms and paced between the aisles of merchandise.
Holt massaged the back of his neck. “Let’s be rational. Dental records will give authorities the identity of the man from the lake. At that point they’ll start investigating. Find out where this man is from, what he did for a living, and perhaps then they’ll make a connection to the man who was here today.”
“But this creepy guy is in town now. We should send Beckett to find out who he is and where he’s staying.” Gigi crossed her arms over her chest, glared at Blair for backup.
Blair slumped on a velvet high-back chair. “Beckett can’t win. Not against this man. If he’s cartel, he’s high up and ruthless. We’d find Beckett at the bottom of a lake.” She shook her head. “He’s safer not knowing anything.”
Holt seemed once again torn as he ate up the wooden floor, matching Gigi stride for stride as they paced, but he kept quiet.
“Then we need someone equally ruthless and powerful,” Gigi said.
Blair glanced at Gigi. Holt froze.
“We call Hector.” Gigi threw her arms out. “He considers you family, right? So call and tell him that someone who had connections to Mateo’s death is here in Hope flaunting it and has threatened you and me. He’ll come and save us.”
“Absolutely not!” Holt roared.
Blair jumped at the force behind his voice. Gigi crunched on her bottom lip. “It was just a thought, Holt.”
“You cannot call a drug lord to come in. You’ll incite a war. There will be casualties. You’ll both end up dead.”
“And we’ll be indebted to Hector. I can’t owe him, Gigi. You don’t understand the danger here.” Blair would never admit it had crossed her mind. Holt could only protect her for so long before she got him killed.
“Fine. We’ll sit around while they keep scaring us half to death over who knows what! What do they want? They’ve never even said.” Gigi charged out the back entrance.
“She can’t traipse off alone,” Blair said.
“I’ll go get her. Don’t move from this spot.” Holt’s authoritative voice scared and impressed her. He was right—bringing Hector here would incite a war. But calling in anyone else was out of the question. Gigi had a point, too. The cartel members were looking for something.
It was like they assumed Blair knew what it was. And how to give it back. She’d been through the log and the inventory. She had nothing. What if they had retrieved it and these new attacks were threats to keep her mouth shut?
How long would they ensue?
Probably as long as Beckett investigated on his own. Blair didn’t know how to make Beckett stop without revealing the truth, and even then, he wouldn’t. He would do his job.
Holt stormed inside. “Hunter met her in the parking lot. They’re going back to his place. He knows everything, by the way. She’s told him.”
Blair heaved a sigh. “I guess I can’t blame her. She loves him. Says a lot that he came. Even if he does have commitment issues.”
Holt strode to the window, scanning the area. “It puts him in danger.”
“I put you in danger.”
“That’s different. I inserted myself.”
Right. Blair hadn’t invited him into her problems. But she was grateful he was here. And...and if she was honest with herself she’d admit she was falling in love with him even though she’d been working not to. Didn’t mean he was feeling the same way. “Why do you keep putting yourself in danger? I know why Hunter’s willing to do it.”
Holt faced her. His eyes dimmed and his mouth drooped. “I care about you.”
Then why look so sad about it?
He cared about her. Just the words she wanted to hear. Not. Silence filled the room in a most uncomfortable way. “So, what now?”
Holt slicked his hands over his face. “Have you thought about leaving town for a while?”
NINE
“It’s Alejandro,” Holt said. “The description fit him to a tee. Even the pinky ring with the ruby. He’s here. I have to act fast.” Holt paced his living room, glancing out the window to the opposite side of the street. The best thing was to go to the cookout on the square. Maybe he’d find something suspicious. It was still hard to believe that Alejandro Gonzalez had been one store away from him. Threatening Blair, no less.
Holt’s handler, Drake Billington, sighed over the line. “If you do find Alejandro, you can’t do anything rash. We need him to lead us to Juarez. He won’t flip. We can’t arrest him.”
Holt gripped the phone so tight he feared he would crush it. “But he threatened Blair. I think I should tell her the truth.”
“This mission isn’t about Blair Sullivan, Holt. The answer is no. You know if you fraternize with an asset, you’ll be relieved of your duties. This isn’t some cop show or movie. There are consequences for such an action. You want to ruin your career over one woman?”
Law enforcement hadn’t been Holt’s first choice, but he had made a career out of it. A good one. It kept him moving and busy.
“Do you hear me, Holt?”
“Loud and clear.” His gut ached.
“This mission is about finding who Alejandro was meeting with. About bringing down the head of the Juarez Cartel and bringing justice to Agent Bryan Livingston. Our friend. And finding Jeremy Sullivan.”
Holt growled. “And what if Alejandro attempts to hurt Blair? Am I supposed to let him?”
“Stop acting irrational and get your head on straight. You know that’s not what I mean.”
Holt’s frustration brewed hot and dangerous. “I’m alone here. Hitting dead ends at every turn. I’m convinced there was something in that storage unit. Did you find out who owns it?”
“A corporation. Hollow Chest. Looks legit, but it’s possible the Juarez Cartel is using it to funnel money and drugs. Maybe even trafficking. We’re trying to establish connections between the corporation and anyone in the cartel. Without Jeremy’s intel, we have nothing for a warrant.”
“We have to have more than that. Any connections to Jeremy, drugs and the cartel?”
“Keith Hill. Over-the-road truck driver at the same terminal Jeremy worked. Runs Memphis to Texas. But so do four other guys. We’re still checking. No direct links to any Juarez Cartel members, but he has a few drug possession charges from his early twenties.”
“Maybe Jeremy found information through him, or on him.” Holt stared out the window.
“Possible. Can’t connect him to the cartel, though. That’s our issue. And it’s why we can’t get a warrant to search a single thing on him.”
“What about Beckett Marsh?
I don’t like him.”
“Well, that must be a case of two alpha males butting heads. He’s clean.”
“Doesn’t mean he’s clean.”
Drake chuckled. “No, but he’s a former SEAL. Part of his record is classified. He’s even received a few awards. Rumor has it he was offered a job in the Secret Service. Turned it down to come back home.”
“Shut up.” Who would turn down that kind of action for a small-town life? He wasn’t even in charge. Blair stepped out onto the porch, and Holt’s heart skittered.
A woman. That would flip a man’s plan on a dime. Holt was even considering it, which was ridiculous. Blair would have nothing to do with him when she found out the truth. The lying was starting to seriously kill him, though.
“I’m not kidding. I don’t think he’s in cahoots. Your call if you want to fill him in. You said you’re alone. Maybe you’re not. Dental records are in. He knows about Bryan. You’re the one there, so use your judgment. But keep your cover to Blair Sullivan. Understood?”
“Got it.” He hung up. Beckett Marsh, Navy SEAL. Maybe Holt could use him after all. If the storage unit facility was a cover to traffic money and drugs, why auction it off? No one could be certain who would purchase it. Unless the wrong unit was auctioned off by accident. Or drugs were placed in the wrong unit. There was no other explanation.
Holt met Blair in his yard. She wore a navy blue dress with a billowy skirt that blew in the breeze. She’d left her hair down, his favorite style. Straight and nearly touching her waist. “You thought anymore about what I said earlier? About getting out of town?”
“No way. This is my home. I’m not leaving it. I don’t want trouble. But trouble already came. If I leave they’ll follow me. I’ll always have to run.”
Holt nodded. He couldn’t lose her.
He loved her.
There it was. The words. The truth.
A love he’d never experienced before. A mature love. Deep. Abiding. More powerful than he could hardly stand.
“Holt?” Blair frowned. “What’s wrong? You have a weird look on your face. Has something happened?”
“Yes.” His voice turned husky. He cupped her cheek and ran a thumb across her bottom lip. “I don’t want to lose you, Blair.”
Her breath hitched, and he didn’t give her time to respond with words as his lips descended on hers.
Easy. Tender. Slow.
Years of hope, packed down tight, suddenly unearthed. New dreams stirred. A few old dreams wiggled free.
Blair wrapped her arms around his neck and hung on as if she feared he might let go. The only way he would is if she pushed him away when he was able to reveal the truth.
And she would.
But right now Holt needed to share this moment. To reveal his heart. Nothing in this kiss lied. It was as pure as a bubbling brook, as fresh-fallen snow. Nothing hidden. No deceit.
And she wasn’t hiding hers, either. She matched his intensity with a fervor all her own. A kiss like this... Maybe they could find their way to stay together, to find forgiveness.
But if not, he would at least have this one true moment when their hearts had been laid bare. When they’d held nothing back. Like a wave that rose and rode its way onto the shore, lapping a few moments before ebbing back into the sea. He broke it off before it swelled again.
Blair’s eyes remained closed, a rosy glow dusted her cheeks, a smirk played on her semiswollen lips. “Flawless,” she breathed. “I knew it would be.”
He leaned down, pecked her on the lips, then nuzzled his nose against hers. “That better be the only flawless kiss you’ve ever had in this town. In this lifetime, now that I think about it.” One last kiss to her forehead and he laced his fingers with hers. “This is where you say it is the only flawless kiss you’ve had.”
She leaned into his upper arm, not quite tall enough to lay her head on his shoulder. “You have no reason to feel insecure.”
He chuckled. “I’m taking that as a yes.”
“I’m not sure if that’s true.” Mischief played in her eyes. “You’ve only kissed me once.”
He walked her to the truck, then swept her up and kissed her again until he couldn’t breathe. Setting her down, he righted her when she stumbled, and held in his laughter. His insides were doing the same thing. All equilibrium in his heart was gone.
“Ready?”
“You can’t keep doing that, ya know?” She sighed and strapped on her seat belt.
Unfortunately, he did know. But he refused to allow guilt to ruin this evening. He kissed her hand, then closed her door.
Tonight he was stealing the chance to be a man in love with a woman who had to be in love with him. He’d felt it. In her kiss.
* * *
So long, eighty-degree temps. Hello, high nineties. Yet Blair stood in line for her hazelnut blend coffee with a shot of espresso. She’d barely slept last night. Partly because of the man showing up in her store, partly because the night had been lovely. Full moon. The smells of the South smothered in grease and tangy sauces. She and Holt had listened to the worship band near the gazebo while watching kids play with water balloons. Men had laughed over a friendly game of horseshoes. Even Holt had joined in after his third dessert. He’d mentioned something about small towns ruining his health regimen. Hadn’t stopped him from taking that last bite of strawberry cake with cream-cheese icing.
She placed her order and carried her coffee outside to the corner that looked out near the courthouse. Last night had been almost perfect. Holt had slept on the couch, but they’d gone home. Together. Had she been playing one of her rounds of pretend? Had he?
That kiss had said otherwise.
That incredible, amazing kiss that had sent her into a state of blissful vertigo had to have meant something. It had to her. Holt had busted through her barricade and opened her up to trust. And with her trust and vulnerability came her ability to fall in love.
And she had done exactly that. More than anything, she wanted to bask in it. Go wild with it. But Hector’s enemy was in town and wanted her dead.
“You off in la-la land?” Ronnie Lawson straightened his VOLS cap and plopped onto the sidewalk next to Blair, a cup of coffee and a Danish in hand.
“It was enjoyable, too. You driving out to Arlington for the July estate sale? Looks like a big one.” She sipped her nutty brew.
“Thinking about it.” He motioned his chin in the direction of It’s A Wonderful Life. “You not opening up shop today?”
Blair frowned and glanced at the time on her cell phone. “What do you mean? Gigi opened over two hours ago.” She’d heard her leave.
“Well, it’s dark as night up in there. Locked tight, too.”
Throat turning raw, Blair rifled through her purse and grabbed her phone. She punched Gigi’s name and prayed she answered.
“Everything all right?” Ronnie stood, staring.
Voice mail. She tried the store. The recording kicked on.
Maybe she was with Hunter. “I’m fine, Ronnie. I—I gotta go.” She jumped up, sprinting toward the Black-Eyed Pea as Hunter’s phone went to voice mail, too.
Her blood chilled.
She burst through the door, causing a few customers to glance at her.
Calm down, Blair. Don’t cause a scene.
She rushed to the counter, willing herself to keep her composure. Jace breezed through the kitchen in his gray V-neck T-shirt, his hair pulled back in a short but messy man bun. Some of his wavy bangs hung around his eyes.
“Hey, you seen Hunter?” he asked.
Blair’s heart sputtered and she nearly choked. “I was coming to find G. Have you seen her this morning?”
“Nope. Not since last night around eleven, when I heard Hunter’s truck rumbling. Assumed he was taking her home.” J
ace grabbed the white towel hanging off his shoulder and wiped down the counter. “You see ’em, tell him to get his lazy bum over here. I’m shorthanded.”
Should she worry Jace? One more person Blair had put in the crosshairs. “Sure thing.”
Blair rushed from the diner and weaved between pedestrians. A few hollered greetings and made jokes about her being in a hurry. She shoved open Holt’s door, huffing and puffing.
“Gigi and Hunter...they’re missing.”
Holt jumped over the half swinging door separating the shopping floor from the counter area. “How do you know?”
“She didn’t open up the store. Ronnie Lawson just told me she wasn’t there.” Blair’s entire body had turned cold. “She’s not answering her phone, and neither is Hunter.”
Holt snatched his keys. “Then let’s take a trip to Hunter’s.” He locked the door and they climbed in his truck.
“He lives in the apartment above Jace’s garage. Over on Lindenberry. Near the Magnolia Inn.”
Holt nodded and laid on the gas. “Try her phone again.”
Blair tried one more time. “Nothing.”
Holt turned onto Magnolia Lane, past the inn Mrs. McKay owned and ran. As he turned on Lindenberry, Gigi’s blue Jeep Wrangler came into view. Hunter’s black truck was also in the drive.
“They’re here.”
Blair laid a hand on her chest and breathed deep. “Good. Good. I’m going to kill her.”
Holt took the stairs ahead of her and stopped at the door. “Go back downstairs. Now.”
Blair tried to push past Holt, but he was like Mt. Everest. “What? Why?”
“The door’s partly opened.” He drew his gun and put his finger on his lips. “I’m going in,” he whispered. “You go back down those stairs. Get in the driver’s side and be ready to go straight to Beckett Marsh if I’m not out in five minutes.”
“No,” Blair protested. Her sister might be in there. Might be... No, she refused to consider it.
“Blair Sullivan. I appreciate your mind and that you speak it often. But right now I’m not gonna tell you again. Get. Down. Those. Stairs.” His eyes held steel, his voice low but full of ultimate authority.
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