Hidden Prey (Lawmen)

by Cheyenne McCray

  A sense of despair overcame her and her legs weakened. She barely kept herself standing by the grip she had on the bars.

  The bastards. The horrible, horrible bastards.

  Anger replaced the despair in a hard, fiery rush. Her cold cheeks flushed with heat and if a person could truly see red, she did.

  What the cartel did to people…the lives that were destroyed…all of the deaths…the pain. Every bit of anger she had washed through her in a hot wave.

  With a burst of fury, she jerked against the door to rattle her cage.

  The door opened.

  She stumbled forward, almost falling as the door swung open a couple of feet. For a moment she stood there, stunned.

  Just like that? The door was open?

  She blew out her breath as she released the bars and walked out into the room that was surrounded by cells on three walls. A door was to her right and another was across the room. The monitors on the left flickered and she turned and headed toward them.

  When she reached the station, she braced her hands on the back of one of three swivel chairs in front of the bank of nine monitors. Below the monitors was a desk with enough room for three large men to sit behind.

  The monitors flashed, slowly changing from views inside hallways and rooms, including a dining room, an enormous kitchen, and living areas. More cameras displayed pathways, courtyards, gardens, and more than one swimming pool. It was late afternoon, the shadows long.

  She narrowed her gaze when she saw grass-covered grounds with tents, balloons, tables, and bouquet after bouquet of flowers. There was lots of pink. Lots and lots of pink. It looked as though there was going to be a party. A huge party.

  A man’s voice spoke at the edge of her consciousness, and she remembered hearing him say, “…her Quinceañera, her big party tonight.” She also remembered hearing a girl’s name. Angelina.

  Tori swallowed. What if she managed to get out of here and crash Angelina’s party? Would someone help her, or would they be too afraid of the Jimenez family?

  Hands trembling, Tori wiped her dirty palms on her jeans then rubbed her temples with her fingers. She’d stayed long enough. If she could get out, she needed to do it before someone came to check on her.

  She looked from one door to the other. Would one of them lead her in a direction that would allow her to escape?

  If she did escape, then what next? She wondered if she was in a town or in the desert. Likely a drug lord’s home would be in the desert, away from the Mexican police and military. From what she’d seen on the monitors, it looked like this place was an oasis. An oasis built with blood money.

  Tori took a deep breath then grimaced at the pain in her side. She gritted her teeth and picked the door to the right of the monitors. When she reached the door, she grasped the handle and tried to pull it open.

  Locked.

  Her heart stuttered. She looked over her shoulder at the other door. If it was locked, she didn’t know what she’d do. She didn’t know how to pick a lock and she didn’t know if there was anything around that she could use to try.

  She walked to the other door and paused. She winced as she took another deep breath then gripped the handle and pulled.

  Locked.

  She squeezed her eyes shut and felt hot tears behind her lids. She wasn’t going to cry, damn it.

  Maybe there was a set of keys near the monitors or in the desk drawers. She bit the inside of her cheek as she walked and tried not to think of the pain in her head and chest. She searched the drawers and found nothing. Not even paper or pens.

  She looked at the keyboards in front of the monitors and wondered if one of them could serve as a computer monitor. It would be incredible if she could send an email, not that it would do a lot of good. She didn’t even know who to send one to. Not to mention she was in Mexico now—how was anyone supposed to help her?

  Still she tried. No matter what she did, all she could get to were the cameras. She saw men and women going through rooms and walking around outside. Hired help, apparently. Then she saw people arriving at the front entrance, a young woman in what looked like a prom dress, and a young man in a suit. An older woman with a stern expression followed the couple and Tori wondered if the woman was a chaperone.

  After searching the cells and around the desk and monitors for some kind of weapon, and coming up with nothing, she looked desperately around her one last time. The only movable things were the office chairs. Her mind ran through her options, which amounted to one. She knelt beside one of the chairs. Maybe if she could disassemble one, she could use part of it as a weapon.

  With determination, she clenched her teeth and tried to find some way to take apart the chair. It took her a while, but finally she managed to remove the five-armed swivel base. When she held it in her hands, she wondered if she’d have the strength to swing it with enough power to hit a grown man hard enough to knock him out and make an escape.

  God, she was tired of being afraid. She wiped away sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand and got to her feet. She looked down at the swivel base she was gripping. She’d removed the rollers, and the metal they’d been inserted into had hard, sharp edges.

  She looked at the five rollers on the floor and an idea came to her. She hurried to remove the rollers from the other two chairs then divided them up, putting seven in front of one door and eight in front of the other.

  Just as she finished, the door on her left rattled.

  Ignoring the pain in her chest, she hurried to the door and hid behind it, holding the swivel base in both hands. She found herself holding her breath then forced herself to breathe.

  The mechanism clicked, and the door swung open. A man stepped into the room and paused, probably baffled by the wheels on the floor and the chairs lying on their sides.

  Heart pounding, Tori stepped behind the man as he walked in. He had his hand on the butt of a gun sticking out of its holster, and he started to draw the weapon.

  With everything she had, she swung the swivel base at the man’s head.

  He swung around in time to put his arm up to protect his face. The base hit his arm hard enough that he dropped the handgun and it landed on her foot.

  The man gave an angry shout as he stumbled to the side.

  He tripped over the wheels she’d left on the floor and he fell, landing hard.

  Her heart pounded faster.

  Doing the best she could to ignore the pain in her chest, she fell to her knees and grabbed the gun he’d dropped on her foot.

  The man scrambled to his knees and faced her. His eyes were like blue flame as he looked at her with fury.

  He lunged for her. “Bitch!” he shouted in Spanish.

  She raised the gun with both hands and squeezed the trigger.

  He slammed her to the floor just as the gun jerked in her hands, the sound reverberating off the walls and echoing in her ears.

  She screamed. It felt as if pain ripped her apart as she hit the floor, his big body on top of hers.

  Tears flooded her eyes from the agony.

  He raised his head and his fist at the same time. He swung his fist and it connected with the side of her head.

  Stars sparked in her head and her mind spun.

  He rose up, getting to his knees, and she saw his shirt was drenched in blood. He opened his mouth and blood rolled over his lips.

  For a moment he looked confused. Then he looked at his belly and the blood soaking his shirt, the stain spreading.

  He looked as dazed as she felt. He started to collapse on her but she held up her arms. His weight was too much. He was too big, too muscular. His weight landed on her again.

  Black swirled on the edges of her vision. An involuntary scream rose up inside her, but she could make no sound as blackness started to close in on her.

  The man faced her as his head landed next to hers. She almost managed a scream this time as she saw his eyes were wide and sightless. Dead. He was dead.

  She took rap
id breaths, trying to fend off the darkness. It was almost impossible to breathe with the man’s dead weight on her.

  Tears of pain rolled down her cheeks as her vision started to clear. She felt weak and exhausted, but the thought of being found by the cartel’s men gave her renewed strength. That and the adrenaline pumping in her veins.

  She used her knee against the man’s belly and her hands on his shoulders. She counted to three and shoved with all the power she could muster.

  The body rolled off of hers. The dead man landed on his back, his body blocking open the door. A loud clanking sound echoed in the room as the gun hit the floor.

  Bile rose in her throat and she thought she was going to vomit. She’d just killed a man.

  She told herself that he would have killed her, but it was still hard to comprehend that she’d taken a life.

  Now was not the time to think about that. It was time to get out of here and find someplace to run or hide or…she didn’t know, but she’d figure it out.

  Her stomach ached and she put her hand to her belly and felt slick flesh. She looked down. She’d torn her shirt to help the agent and now her bare stomach was covered with the dead man’s blood. On her shirt, his blood mingled with Agent Aguilar’s.

  She swallowed and picked up the gun she’d dropped when she’d pushed him off of her. She staggered to her feet and headed out the door.

  CHAPTER 27

  Angelina walked through the family wing, her belly quivering with excitement. It wouldn’t be long now until she was presented as a woman to friends, family, and acquaintances. It had seemed like the day would never come.

  Carlos would be here tonight. Her skin tingled and she felt giddy, eager to see the handsome young man. He was sixteen, over a year older than she. But now that she was a young woman, she hoped he would notice her and that her grandfather would not object.

  She had seen Carlos watching her many times, but he had never been more than polite and respectful. As intimidating as her grandfather could be, she had no wonder that Carlos had barely spoken to her. But his dark, beautiful eyes framed by long dark lashes made him so very handsome. He captivated her and watched her whenever he was near.

  The material felt slightly stiff against her fingers as she smoothed down the top layer of the ruffles on her dress. Ruffles. She hoped she didn’t look like a child. She had wanted to wear something more sophisticated for her Quinceañera, but she truly had known better when it came to her grandfather.

  She paused to look at herself in a hall mirror and pushed her shoulders back so that she stood straight and proud. She was a Jimenez and she would present herself like one. Not only would friends and family be here, but her grandfather had invited business partners, too. It was an excuse for all to enjoy a party at a home designed for parties.

  Maria had curled Angelina’s long hair into ringlets before sweeping it up off her neck and pinning it to the top of her head. She allowed ringlets to drop down from the upsweep. It was a very adult style. Like Angelina had promised her grandfather, her makeup was light. But she liked the way the mascara and eyeliner enhanced her eyes and the light lipstick made her look more mature.

  She turned away from the mirror and wandered around parts of the house she didn’t normally go to.

  Guests would be arriving now, and she needed to stay out of sight until it was time for her to be presented. She decided to go to the wing that her grandfather had designated as off-limits for children. She wasn’t a child any longer, so she felt comfortable and even excited to explore the wing.

  The pink dress brushed her ankles as she walked down the hallway. It was dim here, and it had a quiet, unused feel to it. Perhaps there was nothing to explore in this place. Still she strolled along. When she reached the end of the wing, she turned to go back. A door to her right opened and her heart nearly stopped. Even though she was not a child anymore, a part of her was still afraid her grandfather would object.

  But she was better off facing whatever consequences she might have to. Besides, it was the day of her party. Surely she would be allowed some leniency.

  With her chin raised, she looked at the door that was slowly opening, ready to face whoever might be coming out.

  A woman peered out and her eyes widened when she saw Angelina.

  Angelina’s heart stuttered. The woman had bruises on her face and arms, and she was covered in what looked like blood. It was on her shirt, her bare belly, her jeans, and even her shoes. Her dark hair even appeared to be matted with blood.

  The woman stood frozen in the doorway. Angelina froze too, feeling as if she might not be able to walk if she tried.

  “Help me.” The woman’s voice was a rasp. She looked dizzy and like she might pass out.

  Angelina found the strength to move and neared the woman, yet kept a few feet between them. “Who are you?”

  “My name is Tori.” The woman responded in Spanish. She sounded fluent, yet she had a slight American accent. “I need help.” The woman who called herself Tori sagged as she leaned against the doorframe. “Please.”

  “I don’t understand.” Angelina started to say more when she saw a weapon in Tori’s hand. Her heart pounded and she wondered if she should run. “You—you have a gun.”

  Tori looked at her hand as if seeing the gun for the first time. “Protection.” She licked her lips as she looked at Angelina. “I need it for protection.”

  “From what?” Angelina asked.

  “Men who are trying to kill me.” Tori straightened, looking as though she’d just remembered that she should be on guard. “The Jimenez Cartel.”

  Angelina’s lips parted and she blinked rapidly. “There’s no cartel here. And certainly not a Jimenez Cartel.”

  “Diego Jimenez is the leader of one of the most ruthless cartels in Mexico.” Tori continued speaking as Angelina’s belly bottomed out. “I witnessed Alejandro murder a man and they’ve been trying to kill me ever since.” The woman gave a laugh with no humor. “This time they decided to kidnap me. I don’t know exactly what they plan to do with me.”

  Angelina shook her head vehemently. “My grandfather and uncle would never do such things. They are businessmen, not killers.”

  Tori looked as though realization had just dawned on her. “You must be Angelina.”

  Surprise made Angelina nearly speechless. She managed to say, “How do you know?”

  “I overheard Diego and Alejandro talking about your Quinceañera tonight.” Tori seemed to be less dazed as she looked up and down the hall. “They kidnapped me from Arizona.”

  Angelina just stared at Tori. “You are from the United States?”

  “Alejandro and his men brought me here and they beat me.” Tori switched to English and spoke in a perfect American accent. “Do you speak English?”

  Angelina nodded but confusion made her head spin. She replied in almost perfect English. “I do not understand why you are here and why you look as you do.”

  A thought entered Angelina’s mind. She hadn’t understood what her grandfather was saying when she was outside his study the day she tried on her Quinceañera dresses, but his voice had sounded harsh in a way she’d never heard before. It had been as if he was a different person.

  “Hide me, please.” Tori spoke in an urgent whisper. “I hear voices coming this way.”

  The plea in the woman’s voice was so desperate that Angelina couldn’t help but respond. She pointed to a tree in a massive pot across the hall from the room Tori was in. “You can hide behind there for now. I will think of someplace else and come back.”

  Tori slipped through the door and closed it behind her before hurrying across the hall. She slid down the wall behind the potted tree and huddled in the corner.

  Angelina couldn’t stop thoughts from whirling through her mind. The woman must be crazy. There was no Jimenez Cartel, unless there was another Jimenez family who ran one. Her grandfather was a legitimate businessman, as was her Uncle Alejandro and her four great-uncles.

/>   Why was the woman here? Why did she look bloody and beaten?

  Should she tell her grandfather? Even though she’d heard his voice being rough and cold, that meant nothing. He couldn’t possibly be responsible for whatever had happened to Tori. Could he?

  The voices came closer. For one terrible moment, Angelina did not know what to do.

  She was a Jimenez. She knew how to act like a lady and remain calm. Maria and her grandfather had drilled it into her since she was a child.

  Once again she raised her chin and started in the direction of the voices and recognized they belonged to her uncle and grandfather. She forced a bright smile.

  “I sent a man to check on her.” Her uncle’s voice was hard. “He has not returned.”

  Her? Angelina thought. Are they talking about Tori?

  “Check on her.” Her grandfather sounded annoyed. “Nothing is to ruin tonight.”

  “Hi, Grandfather, Uncle.” Angelina’s smile didn’t falter as she walked around the curve in the hallway. “Are you ready for my party?”

  Both men looked surprised but recovered. “What are you doing in this wing?” Diego frowned. “I have told you many times it is off-limits.”

  “You told me children are not allowed in this wing.” Angelina stopped walking and stood in front of the two men. “I am no longer a child.”

  Grandfather had a hard look in his eyes that surprised her. He had never looked like that at her. He rested his hand on her upper arm. “Come, my angel.” He gently tugged on her arm and his voice sounded like he was forcing warmth into it. “It is almost time for your party.” He looked at Alejandro. “Join the guests after you have checked up on that matter we discussed.”

  Alejandro gave a nod. “Yes, Father.” He turned and headed down the curved hallway.

  Her grandfather guided her out of the wing. “Yes, you are a young woman. But I must make it very clear to you that no one is allowed in that wing but a few select employees and myself. Do you understand?”

  Angelina lowered her eyes. “Yes, Grandfather.”

  He put a finger under her chin. “Smile. I do believe it is time for you to make your entrance and I will present you to our guests.”