From the direction of a hallway that Landon could just see from the kitchen, a male spoke with a heavy Hispanic accent. “Tell me where your husband is and I might kill you quickly rather than slicing you up into one small piece at a time.”
“I will never tell you.” The woman’s voice trembled. “Go ahead and kill me because you’ll never find him or Tori.”
The woman shrieked and it was all Landon could do not to charge straight toward the voices. He had to keep his cool, but he hurried through the small kitchen and dining area. He cleared the living room before easing down the hall and heard the woman’s sobs.
“Tell me or I’ll cut you again.” The man spoke slowly, deliberately. “Now.”
O’Donnell followed Landon, who peeked around the corner of the doorway into a bedroom just enough to see two thirty-something men with a woman of roughly fifty who was on her knees. Blood flowed down her cheek from where she’d been cut with a knife, and her eyes were red from crying. Due to the strong resemblance to Tori, the woman had to be Josie Cox.
One of the men, about five-six with a thin mustache, wore a wife-beater T-shirt and jeans. He was behind Josie, and gripped her hair in his fist. A knife laced with blood was in his opposite hand, the knife close to her throat.
The other man was bald and was taller by three inches. He held a gun loosely at his side, clearly not feeling threatened.
Landon leaned back and signaled to O’Donnell that two armed men were in the room with the victim.
Landon signaled the count, then swung himself into the doorway, his gun pointed at the man with the knife. O’ Donnell moved beside him with his weapon trained on the taller man.
“Police!” Landon shouted the universal word for law enforcement used during a raid, startling both men.
The bald man swung his weapon up to fire at them. O’Donnell shot the man in the chest before he got a shot off. The bald man fell backward, his gun clattering to the floor. He gasped and wheezed as blood bubbled from his mouth.
O’Donnell immediately kicked the gun out into the hallway, away from the dying man. He moved back to the doorway and positioned himself so he could see into the hall to cover their backs and was still able to keep an eye on what was going on in the room.
The man with the knife jerked Josie’s head back. She was now on her haunches as his fist gripped her hair. He kept his knife to her throat. “I’ll kill her.” He spoke the words with bravado, but Landon could tell he was nervous.
“If you do, I put a bullet into your brain.” Landon moved into the room, his training keeping his head clear and calm. “Slide your knife to me on the floor and let her go, and I just might let you live.”
The man hesitated, his knife dangerously close to Josie’s throat. One quick movement and she’d be dead.
Landon wasn’t going to give the man the chance. He squeezed the trigger of his Glock.
A hole appeared in the man’s forehead, spattering blood and matter on the wall behind him.
The knife tumbled onto Josie’s lap. The man collapsed onto the floor, a single drop of blood rolling down his forehead from the hole.
Sirens could be heard in the distance. Landon looked to O’Donnell. “Clear the rest of the house.” The agent gave a nod and Landon holstered his weapon before he went to the woman. “I’m Special Agent Walker with Department of Homeland Security. Are you Josie Cox?” He took her hand and helped her to her feet.
Her eyes were wide and frightened. “Who were those men?”
“Some of the men who are after your daughter.” Landon rested his hand on her shoulder. “Other than the cut, did they hurt you?”
Josie shook her head. “No. I think they would have killed me if you hadn’t been here.” Her voice trembled. “Is Tori okay?”
“She’s fine and we have her in a safe place.” Landon tried to reassure the woman as O’Donnell checked the man he’d shot for a pulse. He shook his head, indicating the man was dead.
Landon turned his attention back to Josie. “Where is your husband?”
“Probably at St. Elmo’s Bar in Brewery Gulch.” Josie touched her hand to her cheek, winced, then brought her fingers down to see they were coated with blood. “At least I hope he’s there and other men haven’t found him.”
Landon grabbed a plain white T-shirt that was on a chair. “Hold this to your cheek to stop the bleeding until we can get the cut attended to.” She took the T-shirt from his hand and pressed it over the wound. “How did your husband get out of the house without the agents noticing him?” Landon asked.
Josie gave a nod in the direction of the bedroom. “I’m guessing he went through our bedroom window and made his way through the neighbors’ yards and then took a back way to the gulch. The man has to have his booze and I won’t allow any around here. I empty the bottles in the sink if I find them.”
At the sound of vehicles coming to a stop outside, O’Donnell turned and headed out of the bedroom.
Landon gestured to the doorway. “Are you steady enough to walk?”
“Yes.” Josie wobbled for a moment and Landon was ready to catch her if she fell. But she didn’t and he walked beside her to the front door. She kept the T-shirt pressed to her cheek as they walked.
“Can you do me a favor?” Landon asked.
Josie, still clearly shaken, managed a nod. “Anything.”
“Does Tori have a clarinet here?” He looked down at the petite woman. “She wanted it if you were okay.”
“Of course. I’ll get it.” Josie seemed glad to have something to do. “Hmmm…I think she left a box of reeds here the last time she visited, too. That girl is always practicing. I don’t think she can live without playing her clarinet.”
Landon accompanied her as she went to a back room. It was a pretty room with lots of pink that must have belonged to a much younger Tori.
Josie picked up a small black case that was resting on the white nightstand next to the bed. “This isn’t nearly as nice as her professional one, but it was what we could afford at the time.” She glanced at the mirrored dresser. “Ah, here’s the box of reeds.” She picked up the small box and paused long enough to put it inside the clarinet case.
“I’m sure she’ll appreciate it,” Landon said as he walked with her through the house and to the living room where a pair of agents now waited. “Stay with Mrs. Cox,” Landon instructed before he left the woman and went outside.
The mountainside streets of Bisbee were so narrow that cars could only park on one side of the street. The emergency vehicles had parked in a line with barely enough room left for any car to pass.
Police, DHS agency vehicles, an ambulance, and a fire truck helped crowd the place. O’Donnell was talking with police. Paramedics were treating the two agents who’d been gassed.
Fortunately, Landon’s SUV wasn’t blocked in. On his way out of the yard, Landon met up with Lieutenant Marks.
“I think we’ve been seeing too much of each other lately.” Marks shook his head. “Way too much.”
“Agreed.”
Marks was frowning. “Josie and Henry Cox live here. Are they all right?”
“Mrs. Cox is just shaken up and has a slight injury.” Landon stared down in the direction of Brewery Gulch. “We need to find Henry Cox. Mrs. Cox said he must be at St. Elmo’s. We need to get both of them into protective custody.”
“Why don’t I come with you?” Marks walked beside Landon as he headed toward his SUV. “I know what Henry Cox looks like and he knows me.” Marks shook his head. “Even though I’ve known the man for years, he’s not what you’d call an agreeable person. Getting him to a safe house isn’t going to be easy.” He looked at Landon and gave him a wry smile. “Unless you have a fully stocked bar.”
They reached Landon’s agency SUV. “I don’t think that’s in the taxpayers’ budget.”
Landon took a moment to tell O’Donnell where he was headed. O’Donnell would stay to work with police and DHS until Landon returned.
It w
as an extremely tight fit, but Landon maneuvered the SUV so that he could go back down the narrow street. Only one vehicle could travel down at a time, so oncoming traffic had to pull to the side to allow him to pass. He’d turned on the red and blue grill lights, so he didn’t have to worry about anyone not giving him the right-of-way.
Once they were in Brewery Gulch, Landon put a police placard on the dash as they parked illegally, as close to the bar as they were able to. They walked the rest of the way down the gulch.
They reached the bar and Marks gestured to the neon St. Elmo sign. “Even though there are live bands and dancing, locals and tourists come to St. Elmo’s for one reason.”
Landon’s lips twisted with humor. “To drink excessively.”
Marks gave a quick grin. “Exactly.”
Landon pushed open the door and they walked into the dimly lit interior. Above them hung neon signs for numerous brands of beer, along with a neon sign of a crawling man beneath the words: Drunken People Crossing. Beware. Over the bar, behind countless bottles of liquor, was a backlit stained glass sign that read,
St. Elmo
Since 1902
It took a few moments for Landon’s eyes to become accustomed to the darkened bar. He took in the few people inside that included two men sitting at the bar and a couple in the corner who were sitting on stools at a high top.
“There he is, good ol’ Henry Cox, safe and sound.” Marks went straight toward a man at the end of the bar who was drinking a draft beer that still had a head of foam. Henry had the flushed features that some alcoholics had, and a beer gut to go along with it. His light-colored button-up shirt was wrinkled, as were his tan slacks.
Marks leaned on the bar beside the man. “How’s it going, Henry?”
Henry turned dull red eyes on Marks, eyeing the police lieutenant’s uniform. “What the hell do you want? I ain’t done nothin’ wrong.”
Landon watched the exchange, on guard for any belligerent behavior from the drunk.
“No, you haven’t done anything wrong.” Marks shifted so that he was closer to Henry. “Not that I know of.”
Henry gripped his beer mug, raised it to his lips, and then hesitated. “What the hell do you want?”
Marks kept his gaze on Henry. “Josie was attacked.”
“My Josie?” Henry’s mug thunked so hard on the bar top that beer sloshed over the rim. He came out of his drunkenness long enough to say with clarity, “Is she okay? I’ll kill the sonofabitch who hurt her.”
Marks put his hand on Henry’s shoulder. “She’s shaken up and has a small injury, but otherwise she’ll be fine.”
“Holy shit.” Henry slid off his barstool and would have fallen if Marks hadn’t grabbed him by one arm. “I gotta get home to Josie.”
Marks gripped Henry’s arm. “We’ll take you.”
The bartender noticed Henry was leaving. “You need to pay your tab, Henry.”
Landon pulled out his cred wallet. “Will twenty cover it?”
The bartender gave a nod, his eyes widening when he saw the badge. Landon pulled out a twenty with a five for a tip, and dropped them on the bar before turning away and following Marks.
When they got the drunk man into the back of the agency SUV, Landon drove back up the mountainside to Tembly. Marks returned to his duties after Henry Cox was settled.
O’Donnell walked Josie over to the SUV. Josie’s cheek was bandaged and she likely needed stitches. They’d have to get a doctor to the safe house. It wouldn’t be safe to take her to a hospital.
Josie climbed into the back with Henry, who started asking her what the hell had happened. Josie set Tori’s clarinet between the front seats.
O’Donnell and Landon left Josie and Henry to their discussion and spent the next ten minutes sweeping the SUV, using a special piece of equipment that could detect tracking devices. When they were sure the SUV was clean, they climbed in and Landon had to once again navigate the narrow street and hill.
“Where are you taking us?” Henry demanded.
Landon glanced at Josie and Henry in his rearview mirror. “The men who attacked Josie are only two of many who will attempt to kidnap you or take your lives. We’re getting you someplace safe.”
“I’ll be safe in my own damned home.” Henry was definitely a belligerent drunk.
Landon looked back at the road. “Your wife might agree with me.” He glanced in the rearview mirror and saw Josie nod.
“They almost killed me, Henry.” Josie’s voice trembled. “I don’t want to go back. These agents can protect us.”
The bleary-eyed drunk swayed. “I can protect you.”
“Like you did today?” Josie pushed her untidy hair out of her eyes. “When you were at St. Elmo’s instead of home like you were supposed to be?”
Landon glanced again at Henry in the rearview mirror.
The man looked like he was going to argue but clamped his mouth shut.
Maybe he isn’t so stupid after all, Landon thought then immediately dismissed the notion. He had the keen ability to judge people and he figured he’d pretty much nailed Henry’s type.
Landon’s thoughts turned to Tori. He had the impossibly strong urge to be with her again, to watch her, to protect her. All he knew now was that he needed to drop off Josie and Henry then get back to Tori.
CHAPTER 14
The day dragged so slowly that Tori thought she’d lose her mind. With a paperback in her lap, she sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the window in the bedroom she’d been given. Again she wanted to raise the blinds, this time to view the sunset, but she stayed away from the windows like she was supposed to.
She wondered where in the Sierra Vista area they were. She’d heard it had grown unbelievably large for that area since she had last been here, and it had been dark when they’d driven to the town. They could be anywhere. Close to the desert, close to the Huachuca Mountains, or in the middle of town. She had no idea.
Earlier, one of the agents guarding her had given her the news that her parents had been transported to a safe house and were no longer in any danger. Despite the fact that she thought the agents were keeping something from her, much of the tension in her body dissipated when she’d learned that her mother and father were safe. Landon had taken care of them just like she’d asked.
A part of her was still terrified that the cartel would find her parents like they’d found Gregory.
And hurt her parents the way they’d hurt Gregory…
Her eyes ached and her fingers hurt from clenching them so tightly on the book.
She wondered when Landon was coming back, or if he was leaving her protection to the three agents here with her now. She should probably feel safe with these agents, but for some reason she only felt truly safe when she was with Landon. He’d saved her when the house was attacked last night.
It wasn’t the fact that she’d been ready to jump him before the lights went out. No. Well maybe.
“That’s lust talking,” she mumbled to herself.
“What about lust?” came a deep male voice from behind her.
She startled and got to her feet, the paperback hitting the floor with a thump. Her face flamed as she spun to face Landon, seeing the corner of his mouth tipped into a sexy grin.
Her mind raced to change the subject. “Was everything fine with my mom and dad?”
He set down a clarinet case. “They’re fine. Your mother got it out of your bedroom.”
“So she’s all right.” Tori smiled with relief. “Thank you.”
“You apparently like pink,” he said with humor in his voice.
She couldn’t help a grin. “You saw my bedroom.”
He grinned back. “Couldn’t miss it.”
She blinked as it occurred to her he hadn’t said anything about her father. “My dad?”
Landon’s expression turned serious. “We got there in time to save your parents. Two of our agents were attacked, but they’re alive.”
“Two of your age
nts were attacked?” Tori’s eyes widened. “Because of me?”
“Like I told you before, it isn’t your fault.” Landon stepped closer and clasped her hands in his. “They were gassed, but they’ll be fine.”
She sagged with relief. “Thank God.”
He looked grim. “We’ll take Diego and his organization down and they will pay for what they’ve done.”
It occurred to her that he’d said they’d gotten to her mom and dad in time to save them, but nothing about their wellbeing. “My parents—were they harmed at all?”
“Your mother was roughed up a little and she sustained a wound to her cheek.” Landon’s voice was hard. “Your father was at St. Elmo’s, so he wasn’t there when it all went down.”
“Mom was hurt?” She could hear the near panic in her own voice. “I want to see her.”
“It’s safer to keep you apart.” Landon moved his palms up and down her arms in a gentle caress clearly meant to calm her. After a few moments, a little of the tension keyed up in her dissipated. A little.
She blew out a long breath. “As long as they’re safe wherever they are.”
“It’s getting late.” He studied her. “You look like you can use some rest.”
“Are you going to leave me?” She spoke the words before she could stop herself and her face warmed again.
“If you want me to stay, I will.” His features didn’t look as harsh in the dim light of the lamp on the nightstand.
Without thinking, she raised her hand and ran her finger along the thick scar on his cheek. Her voice was soft. “What happened?”
He froze and pain flashed in his gaze. “A motorcycle accident.” His words came out terse, almost angry.
She jerked her hand away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”
His features relaxed. “Don’t be sorry. It happened a little over a year ago. My fiancée, Stacy, died in the accident.”
She could feel the strength of his grief, but also his acceptance. She touched his arm, trying to comfort him in what little way she could. “That’s awful.”
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