Hell on Wheels

by Karen Kelley

  “In and out.”

  He nodded.

  “So, how far do we have to go before we reach Adam’s place?”

  “About ten miles.”

  “Do you think his sister might have been feeding us a line of crap? Throwing us off the scent?”

  “Who knows, but we have to check it out.”

  He drove slowly through the border town. It was seedier than some of the more popular crossings, but it still catered to the tourist industry. Vendors hawked their wares, trying to pick up a few pesos in the hopes of putting something more substantial on the dinner table than beans and tortillas.

  A person could buy anything in Mexico. The object was not to get caught if it was illegal. Jail time in Mexico might not be as long, but when the rundown state of the prisons was factored in, it could seem like an eternity, even if one had the money to purchase one of the better cells. It just wasn’t worth it.

  “They’re awfully young,” Cody said under her breath, looking at the raggedly dressed group of kids playing with sticks and a rusty tin can on one of the corners, some begging for money from people passing by.

  “You grow up fast here. It’s the only way to survive. About forty percent of the population of Mexico is at poverty level. Life is hard.”

  The town didn’t look that threatening in the daylight. The locals would want to keep their tourist business. Night would be a different story.

  “You ever been to Mexico?” Odd that they’d had sex and he still knew so little about her. Suddenly, he wanted to know more.

  “I’ve stuck pretty close to home. I always figured we had enough criminals in Fort Worth to keep me busy.”

  “But you’ve always wanted to go to the coast.”

  “I’m surprised you remembered.”

  When she looked at him and smiled, something in his gut clenched. “There’s very little that I forget.” He relaxed in the seat, laying one arm across the steering wheel. “There’s nothing like seeing the ocean for the first time. On a calm day, it looks like a plate of blue glass. If it’s cloudy, then it takes on a gray-green color. There’s nothing better than watching it during a storm when the waves crash against the rocks and spew foam straight up like a geyser.”

  “Someday I’ll go.”

  At least talking about the ocean had relaxed her. He had a feeling it was going to be a temporary condition.

  He glanced in the rearview mirror again. A car had been following him for the last couple of blocks or so. The white Oldsmobile had seen better days: dented hood streaked with rust, one headlight missing, and if he were on the street watching it pass, he’d probably hear a sound worse than his air conditioner clanking last night. The car looked like a refugee from a war-torn country as it limped behind them. The only thing that made it stand out from other vehicles was the strobe lights on top.

  How the hell had the cops picked up their scent this damn fast? Unless someone had informed them there would be two bounty hunters crossing the border.

  Turbo. Nah, even he wouldn’t stoop that low.

  Cody jerked upright in her seat. She’d apparently glanced out the side mirror and spotted the car, too. What the hell had he gotten her into? Nothing that he couldn’t get them out of. He hoped. For the first time in a hell of a long time, he felt a moment of fear and uncertainty.

  “Cop,” she breathed.

  “It might be nothing. Just checking out the strange car in town.”

  “Or not,” she said as the cop flipped his overheads on. “How’s your Spanish?”

  “Rusty at best. You?” He pulled to the curb.

  “I skipped class a lot in high school. I think I can cuss him out for you.”

  “That might not be a good idea.” He sent a quick prayer upward as he watched a big bruiser hoist his bulk out of the car and lumber toward them. Just before he got to the door, he spat a stream of brown tobacco juice on the street.

  Now Josh didn’t have to wonder about the stains on the front of the cop’s yellow shirt.

  Josh rolled down the window. The cop rattled some Spanish off. He shook his head. “No comprende.”

  “Policía.” The cop hoisted his pants.

  “No, shit,” he muttered.

  “Gringo.” His accent was thick, but Josh caught the scorn he apparently felt for Americans.

  Before he could answer, the cop glanced past Josh and looked at Cody. Josh’s gut tightened when the man stared a little too long.

  “We’re Americans. Did we do something wrong?” Josh asked, drawing the man’s attention back to him. Too many people went missing in Mexico. He damn sure didn’t want them to be the next statistic.

  “Follow,” the cop said. Without another word, he went back to his car.

  “Damn!” Cody sat forward in her seat. “What the hell did we do?”

  “Nothing,” Josh said between gritted teeth.

  He’d been to Mexico before. In and out without ever causing a hint of suspicion with the local authorities. So what was different this time?

  “Where the hell are we going?” she asked.

  “They don’t have anything on us. Just stay calm. Remember, we’re tourists.”

  He followed the cop all the way to the police station. Each block they went, the acid built inside him until he thought he’d choke on it.

  “Maybe we can make a run for it. It’s not like we’re that far from the border.”

  He shook his head. “We’d never make it. Stay cool. There’s not a damn thing they can do. They might ask us a few questions, but they’ll have to let us go.”

  “This is Mexico. They can do anything they want.”

  Yeah, they could, but he didn’t tell her that. Someway, somehow, he’d get her out of this. Suddenly, bringing Adam in, starting his own agency, all that didn’t mean as much to him as it once had. It seemed a hell of a lot more important that he keep Cody safe.

  He pulled into the parking space next to the cop and they got out. The cop didn’t speak, just went to the door and opened it. Apparently, he expected them to follow. What the hell else could they do?

  He reached out and took Cody’s hand, squeezing it. He wanted to tell her again that everything would be okay. She looked at him, then smiled, as if to tell him they weren’t beat yet. Some of her bravado was back. Good. He hadn’t thought anything would get her down for long. She was a fighter.

  They went inside. A ceiling fan whirred above their heads giving little relief from the rising temperatures inside the stale, dusty office.

  The cop walked straight through to the door at the back. Josh put a hand out to stop Cody. She latched onto it, her grip cutting off the circulation in his fingers. The cop turned at the door.

  “It eez a minor problem. You will wait in here uno momento, si?” He smiled, showing a chipped front tooth.

  A smile that wasn’t a bit friendly.

  Fuck, what the hell was going on? The police couldn’t know why they were here. When another cop stepped behind them, they had little choice except to walk to the back and into the cramped jail cell. The door slammed behind them with a loud bang. Cody visibly jumped.

  “They know,” Cody whispered after the officers left. She began to pace the dark, musty cell.

  “They don’t know,” he told her. “How could they?”

  “I’m thinking it wasn’t college kids who slashed the tires.”

  He ran a hand through his hair. “I thought the same thing,” he admitted. “It had to be Turbo who informed them we’d be crossing the line. He’d like nothing more than for us to rot in jail.”

  “Well, I don’t plan on sticking around any longer than necessary.” She stopped pacing, pressed her hands against the crumbling rock of the jail cell. “With a little effort, I think we could push the wall down.”

  “Yeah, right on top of our heads.”

  She whirled around to face him. “They don’t have the death penalty or anything here, do they?”

  He gathered her in his arms. “It’ll be okay.
” He was starting to sound like a broken record. “And no, they don’t have the death penalty.”

  “You better be telling the truth, Josh Pierce. I’d hate like hell to kick your ass.”

  With one finger, he tilted her chin and lowered his mouth to hers. Damn, even in a stinking Mexican jail she tasted pretty sweet. Now was not the time to get horny. He ended the kiss, but when she would’ve pulled away, he snuggled her closer to him. He wasn’t ready to break the connection between them.

  “Welcome to Mexico! I am Hector Gonzales, el capitan.” The man who spoke was around their age, probably no more than thirty-five. He stopped at their cell. His smile was wide and friendly, but Josh could see the hard edge glittering in his eyes.

  “Is this the way you greet all your tourists?” he asked as Cody stepped from his arms and glared at their visitor.

  “No, of course not.” The smile left his face. “Only the bounty hunters who would bother our good citizens. Especially those who contribute very nicely to our economy.”

  Josh had no doubts left. Turbo had notified the Mexican police that they were crossing. He hadn’t believed even Turbo would stoop that low. Damn it, Josh knew he wasn’t completely blameless, either. If he hadn’t been so caught up with Cody, he would’ve paid more attention. There was only one way they were going to get out of this—their original cover of being tourists. He hoped the man believed him.

  “What? Bounty hunters can’t go on vacation?”

  “Certainly.” The man beamed. “But we were informed you would be searching for Adam Sinclair. Is that not so?” He raised his eyebrows.

  “No, it isn’t.” Think! Why did people cross the border? Other than bargain-hunting, there was only one other thing he could think of. Lord help him for what he was about to do.

  Josh took a deep breath. “We’re here to get married. You can still get married in one day, right?” He pulled Cody into his arms and hugged her close. He didn’t dare look at her face. He hoped she went along with his scheme. And he hoped the jackal in front of him believed his lies.

  Chapter 18

  Married? Married! Was Josh crazy? Never mind, Cody had a feeling she already knew the answer to her question. He squeezed her waist in silent warning. Did he think she would blow their new cover? Tell the chief of police that no, they weren’t here to get married, and he was right about them crossing the border to hunt for Adam?

  Hell, she’d say she was going to marry Turbo if it kept her out of a Mexican prison.

  “You mean we’re not going to get married today?” Her bottom lip trembled.

  Hector had the grace to blush. “But we had a call saying you were here to take Adam Sinclair back to justice.”

  “A jealous boyfriend.” Josh shook his head. “But you saw us kissing. Didn’t it look like love to you?”

  Hector took a minute to digest everything. “But Adam Sinclair has crossed the border, no? And you admitted you are bounty hunters.”

  Cody batted her eyes at the young chief of police. “But we had no reason to lie. I’ve never heard of Adam Sinclair.” She downed her head. “We’ve had other things on our minds.”

  She covertly watched the changing expressions on his face. Was he going to buy their story? Come on, you jerk.

  Suddenly, Hector squared his shoulders; anger mottled his skin. “Stupido!” he bellowed. Two officers came running from the front.

  He rattled something off in Spanish. One of the men fumbled with a set of keys at his waist, but finally got them loose and handed them to Hector.

  As Hector unlocked the cell, he said, “My apologies, I will make, how you say, amends.”

  “That’s not necessary,” Josh began, only to be interrupted.

  “I insist.” He beamed. “I am newlywed, also. My Maria would be very angry if I let you get married in a flea-infested office. No, you will be married in my home!”

  Cody stumbled. It was one thing to say you were going to marry someone, another to actually do it. Her gaze flew to Josh. Her eyes dared him to get them out of this one. Married! She didn’t want to get married.

  “Actually,” she began. “We thought we’d find a priest and get married in a little country church.” They were called priests, right?

  “Si, si.” He nodded. “I have a place in the country. It would be my pleasure if you would allow me to offer my humble home for your wedding.”

  Before she could politely turn down his offer, Josh spoke up.

  “We’d be more than honored.”

  She squeezed his hand as hard as she could while keeping a smile pasted on her face. She’d kill him—as soon as they were back in the good old U.S.A.

  Marry him? Not likely.

  Surely he could’ve come up with some other reason for them being here.

  They went back into the front office. Before they had done more than step inside, Josh nuzzled her neck. “You’re not acting like a woman who wants to get married,” he whispered. “Don’t worry, I know enough that it won’t be legal unless we have blood tests and there isn’t enough time.”

  She’d like to be the one who drew first blood. She turned her head, but some of her anger faded when her lips brushed against his. She had to clear her throat before she could speak. “I probably don’t act like I want to get married because I don’t want to marry you.”

  “We’ll only be going through the motions,” Josh said under his breath.

  When he nuzzled her neck, it wasn’t thoughts of what would be legal that were crossing her mind. For a moment, she forgot that she was standing in a police station in a foreign country.

  “See!” Hector roared. “Stupido! Can you not tell when two people are in love? Do they look like they are here to capture Señor Sinclair?”

  The two cops lowered their heads and shuffled their feet. One had the nerve to speak up. “But the caller said they were here to take Señor Sinclair back across the border.” He looked at his cohort. “Eez right?”

  “I don’t hear nothin’.”

  Hector threw his arms into the air. “A jealous lover!” He shook his head and muttered something in Spanish before turning back to them. “Please.” His voice had softened and he smiled. “You will leave your car here and come with me. I will take you to my home and we will have everything arranged for a magnífico wedding, no?”

  No was right. How the hell had she ended up in Mexico about to marry Josh? Oh, yeah, because he’d told her that she’d do a lot better as his partner than on her own. She snorted. This was real fucking good.

  Okay, she had to think. Surely there was a way she could get out of this. A plan. Yeah, that’s what she needed. A plan to get them out of this fix. She could do it. There were a number of things she could think of that would stop the marriage and still keep them from going to prison.

  She just couldn’t think of one right now.

  Deep breath.

  Surely they could hatch some kind of plot before they had to get married. As if sensing her growing panic, Josh squeezed her hand while they walked toward the car.

  El capitan’s blue Buick was a little newer than the patrol car, but then he was the man in charge. He wasn’t bad looking. Briefly, she wondered if he might be swayed by a woman’s wiles.

  Just as quickly as the thought crossed her mind, she discarded it. He’d already said he was recently married. She doubted he would stray this soon after getting hitched.

  She and Josh could have a fight. That might be an option, but would Hector then start to wonder if Turbo had been telling the truth? She envisioned herself all alone in a dark cell, the rustle of hungry rats scurrying in the corner as they waited for her to fall asleep.

  A shiver of revulsion ran down her spine.

  “My Maria will be so happy I am bringing guests home. She comes from a big family and is, how you say, home-aching for her mama. Planning a wedding will make her much pleased.”

  They got in the backseat while Hector moved to the driver’s side. This wasn’t good. Not at all. He started
the car and backed out. Each building they passed, each block they crossed, she felt as if control of her life was slipping from between her fingers. She’d always had control. The one thing no one had ever taken away from her was her right to choose what she did.

  Josh rested his hand on her knee, stopping the frantic tap-tapping rhythm she’d been beating out on the floorboard. She hadn’t realized her nervousness was getting the better of her.

  She took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. Then another. Calm wove its way around her. What was the worst thing that could happen? That she might actually end up married to Josh? He was right. It wouldn’t be legal without the necessary blood tests.

  She swallowed past the lump in her throat.

  No problem. Okay, she felt better. Sort of.

  “This eez my humble home.” Hector waved his hand toward a Spanish-style mansion.

  Whatever she’d expected, it wasn’t this. Modest, that’s what she’d envisioned. A modest two-bedroom house. Talk about a man’s home being his castle. This was an estate. Apparently, Adam had greased Hector’s palm very well. No wonder he wanted to protect him. Heaven forbid his source of income might dry up.

  They drove up the circular drive and he stopped in front of the sprawling house: stucco bleached a creamy white from an unrelenting sun and a red-tiled roof. Native plants flanked an inset doorway, softening the front entrance.

  “You have a very nice home,” Josh commented.

  Hector beamed. “It has been in my family many generations. Someday I will pass it down to my oldest son.”

  She might have been wrong about Hector taking bribes. Still, she couldn’t resist asking, “And if you have a daughter first?”

  Josh squeezed her hand a little too tightly. She didn’t care. Sometimes she had to step on that soapbox.

  “I apologize…” Josh began.

  Hector waved his hand. “Eez okay. I understand Americans do not think as we do sometimes. If I am blessed with sons and daughters, I will make sure they are taken care of properly.” He bowed slightly in her direction.