Out of Time

by Samantha Graves

  “I asked to go back to his place, but he mumbled something and left in a big hurry. I don’t think he kisses a lot of girls.”

  “Then get him drunk or drug him. Whatever you have to do, but get inside that house.” Kesel pulled the SUV onto an access road just before the highway ramp and turned around to face to the road.

  “That takes all the fun out of it,” she replied.

  He killed the engine. “It’s not about the fun. It’s about money, remember?”

  She let out a long sigh. “I suppose. I’ll have something for you tomorrow.”

  “Good.” He hung up. Now all he had to do was wait.

  Jillian was feeling pretty good by the time she left Lance and headed across the plaza, and she couldn’t even blame it on the three margaritas. A heavy weight had been taken off her shoulders, and she wasn’t sure if it was because Lance told her he hadn’t shared her secret with anyone, or if it was because she was going back to Simon.

  Lance hadn’t changed a bit. Not a hair out of place. He talked the same, walked the same, and had the same smooth, practiced ways she’d never really noticed before. He was like plastic in a landfill, never disintegrating. She had thought seeing him again was going to be painful and force old memories to the surface. But when he looked at her, she felt nothing. No searing heat, no breathless expectation, nothing at all.

  The park still buzzed with a colorful, carnival-like atmosphere and Latin music. She smiled at the children laughing and running around. The sun filtered through the leaves and warmed her face. She loved Mexico.

  “I gotta keep you away from the tequila, babe.”

  Jillian spun around to find Simon standing behind her, looking good enough to eat. Her body trembled with anticipation, and her heart raced. She felt . . . alive. It occurred to her that perhaps it was because being with him was the most dangerous thing she’d ever done. She was starting to really like it. That was bad, but in a strangely good way.

  So she took the few steps between them, lifted her head, and kissed him, slowly, just to taste him. His scent filled her mind, sweeping her into the whirlwind of passion she’d grown to know and love. He slid his hands around her waist, and she pressed her body against his. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she heard Don’t do this, but she ignored it. Thank God for margaritas.

  He moved his mouth to her ear. “On second thought, I think we should pick up a few bottles for the road.”

  She laughed, and he leaned back to smile at her. Then he laced his fingers in hers as they walked.

  “How did it go with Lance?” he asked once they were in the Jeep.

  Jillian leaned back in the seat. “He said he didn’t tell anyone. In fact, he’d forgotten all about it.”

  Simon started the Jeep and pulled out onto the street. “And you believed him?”

  She nodded. “Lance wouldn’t lie to me.”

  Simon gave her a quick look. “Did he tell you anything else?”

  “He wanted to get back together.”

  Simon slammed on the brakes, and she was glad she’d remembered her seat belt. He stopped them in the middle of the road. When she looked at him, he did not look at all pleased. In fact, there was something a little scary in his expression.

  “What did you say?”

  She smiled. “I told him the same thing he’d said to me when he left. I would just like to be friends. Long-distance friends.”

  Simon shook his head and stepped on the gas. “What an asshole.”

  She smiled, feeling all warm inside. In fact, she was feeling a little more than warm. She slid the straps of her tank and bra over her shoulders to cool them. “So where are we going?”

  Simon checked the rearview mirror as they merged onto MEX 180 South and then eyed her bare shoulders. “Acayucan. Just north of San Lorenzo. We’ll hole up for the night and head out to the site first thing in the morning.”

  Jillian watched the scenery go by for five minutes. She could just sit here and be a good girl. “Long drive?”

  “A couple hours.”

  Or she could do what she really wanted to do. Because being a good girl was no fun. Her life until now was a case in point. She smiled. Screw it. “So, it’s a road trip.”

  Simon eyed her with growing curiosity. “Exactly.”

  She twisted around in her seat to face him to make sure he couldn’t miss it when she pulled her straps low enough to show off considerable cleavage. She could tell he was having a hard time watching both her and the road. “We might have to make a stop along the way. You know, to cool off, stretch. Relax.”

  “Jesus,” he hissed and gripped the wheel as he tried to stare straight ahead. There was a sizable bulge in his pants. “You aren’t making this easy, babe.”

  She leaned close to his ear and whispered, “You want to play a road game?”

  His jaw muscles clenched. “I think we already are. It’s called torture Simon while he’s driving.”

  Jillian reached over the gearshift and honked the horn. “Your side. You first.”

  Simon gave her a steaming-hot look and cut off the nearest driver as he pulled the Jeep over at the next exit.

  They arrived in Acayucan after 5:00—later than he’d planned, but frankly Simon didn’t care. He could have stayed parked on the secluded road in the back with Jillian all day. In fact, naked with Jillian was at the top of his priority list right now, and he was pretty sure it wasn’t going to get bumped anytime soon. All he had to do was keep her drunk on tequila so that she wouldn’t regret it the next morning.

  She slept as he drove through the side streets of the city. If anyone was following them, they were going to have to work at it.

  He finally pulled into the parking lot in back of a small hotel and shut off the engine. Jillian didn’t wake up. For a while, he just looked at her. Her hair was mussed and sexy. Her lips were full and sexy. Her body was soft and sexy. If she got anywhere near the horn again, he was hers for the taking.

  And that was the problem. Because sooner or later, this was going to end. He should know better by now. She might want him in bed, but there was no way she’d be able to live with his past sitting squarely between them.

  Her love of history went deeper than her ethics. It was tied in with that second vision, and every day was just another day that solidified the attachment.

  When they finally found the treasure and he handed it over, that would be when she’d hate him. Forever. That would be unforgivable. The sadness that swept over him now was a small taste of what it would feel like.

  Sex wasn’t love. But maybe sex was all he deserved.

  Jillian stirred, her eyes flickering open before settling on him. He committed the slow smile to memory.

  “Hey,” she said softly.

  “Hey.”

  She sat up and yawned. “Acayucan already?”

  “You fell asleep. Must be the heat.”

  A blush rose on her cheeks. “Must be. I haven’t been sleeping much lately.”

  “You think that’ll get any better?” he asked with a grin.

  Her blush deepened. “Probably not.” Then she gazed at the back of the hotel. “Is this where we’re staying?”

  He opened the car door and stepped out. “I hope so.”

  “I’m starved,” she said, getting out and stretching her arms over her head, her long body distracting him more than he should let it.

  He pulled their bags from the back. “I’ve got a few snacks in the bag. We’ll have to wait until after dark to go out.”

  She frowned in concern. “You think we’re being followed?”

  “Possibly.” Definitely. He closed the hatch. “There’s something else you should know.”

  She sighed. “I hate when you start a sentence like that. It can never end well.”

  “I talked to Yancy. They’re watching him. They know we were there.”

  Her eyes widened. “Oh, God. Is he okay?”

  Simon gave a short laugh. “Don’t worry about that old fossil
. He may not look like it, but he can take care of himself. The bad news is that I think this is bigger than just the kidnappers and Kesel.”

  Her expression turned serious. “Kesel is here? Why do you think that?”

  “I’m pretty certain that the Mexican worked for the kidnappers and was following us to make sure we were doing our job. Then for some reason, Kesel killed the Mexican. Maybe to get him out of the way. Maybe to push us or scare us.”

  “He would kill for that?” she said, sounding stunned.

  Simon shrugged. “Doesn’t take much to get on Kesel’s hit list. I just don’t know why Kesel would take that kind of risk, or for who. He’s just a paid mercenary.”

  “So he’s working for someone who wants the lens,” Jillian said.

  Simon eyed her. “Someone who will stop at nothing to get it back. Someone who is giving Kesel carte blanche and enough money to take these kinds of risks.”

  Jillian shook her head. “What kind of world is this?”

  My world, Simon thought grimly. The big question was, how much did that “someone” know about the archives? He decided to keep that question to himself. He picked up the gear. “And Alexis hit on Paulie for information.”

  Jillian blinked at him. “What did he do?” Then she raised her hand. “Wait, don’t tell me. I don’t think I can handle it on an empty stomach.”

  “Turned her down.”

  That drew a hint of a smile. “Alexis must not have been very happy.”

  Simon started walking to the back entrance of the hotel. “You don’t know Alexis. She doesn’t give up that easily. She wants inside Mancuso’s house, and she’ll find a way. I told Paulie to go for it next time. Find out what she’s after, who is paying her. Just don’t bring her home.”

  Jillian ran to catch up with him. “You told him to what? Simon, that’s using her.”

  He opened the back door. “She’s using him; what’s the difference?”

  Jillian gaped. “You shouldn’t be pimping Paulie out for information.”

  “Trust me, it wasn’t a hard sell. You’ve seen Paulie. You’ve seen Alexis.”

  Jillian narrowed her eyes. “It’s still not right.”

  He shrugged. “If it gets us some answers, I don’t care. No one gets hurt.”

  “That’s not the point,” she said, a coolness returning to her tone.

  “The game here is survival, Jillian,” Simon told her, the resentment growing in his belly. “You play it, or you die.”

  She glared at him silently, but he knew exactly what she was thinking—I hate your world.

  She walked into the hotel without saying it.

  CHAPTER

  18

  Acayucan was not like the other cities Jillian had seen on this insane journey. This was a crossroads of sorts, a merging of highways in the center of the isthmus. But more than that, it was possibly the truest Mexico they’d been to thus far, unspoiled by tourism.

  The city itself was lovely, a mix of old colonial buildings and new architecture. The streets glowed under yellow lights, and music echoed between the narrow passages. Bright spotlights showed off the most distinguished places. Tucked in between were small shops that sold tobacco and tequila and curiosities that captivated her as they walked along the sidewalk. But it was the promise of food that drew her to the central market, still busy at 10:00 p.m.

  “Looks like we’re having Mexican again tonight. What do you feel like eating?” Simon asked her. His fingers were laced in hers, the feeling so comfortable now.

  “Anything. Everything.” She peeked at the trays of tortillas topped with an array of ingredients, many of which she’d never tried before.

  “What’s that?” she asked him as she motioned toward a basket full of tightly rolled, browned tortillas.

  He leaned close. “Flautas. Filled with chicken or cheese and deep fried.”

  Her mouth watered. “I want that. With chicken and cheese.”

  He nodded. “I’ll order.”

  She stopped him. “No, wait. I want to.”

  The lights illuminated his widening smile. “Are you sure you can handle it? Most folks don’t speak English here.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “That sounds a lot like a challenge.”

  He shook his head. “Nope. Just hungry. Go for it.”

  She smiled at the woman behind the counter. Mentally she pulled the words together. “Dos flautas, por favor. Quisiera hacer un polka con su quesero.”

  The woman’s eyes widened, and then her face broke into a huge smile. “Si. Veintidós pesos.”

  While Jillian got money from her bag, the woman fixed two plates quickly and handed them to her. She turned triumphantly to find Simon grinning at her.

  She raised her chin as she handed him her hard-won prize of flautas, black beans, and rice. “Dinner.”

  He took the plate with a funny look on his face. “I’ll never doubt you again. How long was that Spanish class?”

  “It was only a six-week class, but I did very well. I think that woman was surprised when I ordered.”

  He laughed. “Actually, I think she was more surprised that you asked her for a polka with her cheese maker.”

  Jillian stopped just before taking a bite, her eyes growing wide. “I did? Are you serious? Why didn’t you say something?”

  “I didn’t want to ruin your big moment.”

  She started laughing, mostly at herself and for the poor woman, who had been so gracious. “Okay, fine. My Spanish needs some work.”

  Simon chuckled along with her, and then his smile faded into a direct flame that curled her toes. Don’t do that to me, she thought. None of this is real. I can’t let it be.

  They walked through the market after they finished their flautas. In the darkness, she enjoyed the atmosphere and the action, but Simon was focused, watching. When he looked at her he smiled, but she could see the strain in his face. How did he live like this? How did he function when he had to look over his shoulder all the time? This was his world. His choice. Maybe that’s why he was trying to get out. Maybe he wanted to change, to leave this madness behind.

  She was lost in thought when Simon grabbed her by the arm and whispered, “Act natural. Turn around slowly and start walking back to the hotel.”

  Her heart raced as she tried to control her growing panic. She kept her cool, though, and turned. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a Mexican police officer coming up behind them.

  Oh, damn.

  Simon stepped up beside her and took her hand. He guided her through the market, cutting between the lanes to shorten the distance. All the while, Jillian was praying. She didn’t know what else to do. Whatever could scare a man like Simon was enough to scare the crap out of her.

  They made it to an alley, where Simon pulled her to the side and stopped to peer around the corner. His body was completely still in concentration. Her heart was beating painfully in her chest, and she was sure she was going to hyperventilate before he spoke.

  After what seemed like an eternity, he whispered, “We’re clear. I think that’s enough sightseeing for tonight.”

  “Fine with me. In fact, I think you’ve pretty much cured me of sightseeing for the rest of my adult life,” she muttered and followed him down the alley.

  Simon cast her a quick glance, catching the fear in her eyes. Was she afraid of the police, or him? He couldn’t blame her either way. Running from cops was a knee-jerk reaction for him and just the opposite for her. She probably thought he was just being paranoid, but he had good reason.

  They exited the end of the alley onto a wide street that led back to their hotel, and he slowed to a more leisurely pace, the past stalking him.

  Jillian kept looking at him, wary and wondering what was wrong. She wouldn’t ask. Probably too afraid she might not like the answer. Or maybe she thought it was her fault. Damn. He couldn’t do that to her.

  He cleared his throat. “You want to know why I hate Mexico?”

  She nodded. “Ye
s.”

  God, he hated saying it, reliving it. But for Jillian, he would. Because he didn’t want her to obsess that any of this was her doing, and she would.

  “When I was eighteen, I came to Mexico as part of a church group. We were supposed to help the needy build new homes, schools, clinics.” He smirked as he stared straight ahead and remembered the day he arrived. “Fresh out of high school. I was going to change the world. Except I didn’t know how big or how screwed up the world was.”

  He glanced at her. She was listening to every word, blue eyes so wide and beautiful under the streetlights. Was that why he was telling her this? He didn’t know. Didn’t care. She needed to hear it.

  “There was one village,” he continued. “Dirt-poor. And I mean, dirt-poor. I’d never seen anything like it. These people didn’t have a pot to piss in. Whatever we did never seemed to be enough. Then one day, a crew of archaeologists set up camp on the outskirts of town and started digging up a grave.

  “You should have seen the stuff they pulled out of that hole. Gold, textiles, statues, pots. Armed guards watched the site day and night. They were there for six months. Stripped the site bare and hauled all that treasure away. Left nothing behind but a big hole.

  “The townspeople went through it afterward to see if there was anything left, but there was nothing. No one in town got a penny. I learned the entire contents went to a museum in the States.”

  Jillian whispered, “I’m sorry. That wasn’t right.”

  He nodded. “I know. I was so mad, I decided to do something about it. So I started asking around if there were more graves like that one. Turned out there were quite a few.

  “I started looting them with some locals from another town. We’d go in at night, clean out anything that looked valuable, and sell it for peanuts to a guy in Oaxaca. Every penny I made went back into the village.”

  He looked at her and waited for condemnation. There wasn’t any. She just walked next to him, watching him like she wasn’t breathing.

  “And then one night, a couple years later, someone decided they didn’t like me anymore and set me up. The police were waiting at my next target. No trial, no nothing. Just tossed me in jail with the murderers and rapists. Five months of hell.”