“I know. I just . . . why Javier? I don’t get it.”
“How well did you know him?”
“Not well at all. This was the first time we’d worked together. But he seemed so down to earth. I don’t know. I liked him.”
He didn’t answer, and his silence unnerved her. “What?”
“There was a lot more to Santiago than either of us knew.” When she pushed back and looked up at him, he sighed and told her about his conversation with his boss while she’d been in the shower.
Shock rippled through Lauren. “No way.”
“That was my first reaction, too.”
“And you’re saying he ratted his family out? For what? Money?”
“Most likely. That’s usually what it comes down to. But this isn’t a normal family, Slim. This is the biggest crime organization in all of southwestern Mexico.”
Lauren wasn’t sure she liked the way he called her Slim again. It seemed so . . . impersonal. When they’d made love, when he’d said her name . . . something about the way he’d said it had felt . . . right.
She told herself what he called her was the least of her worries right now. Snuggling back into Finn’s chest, she tried to make sense of what had happened. Nothing about what she knew of Javier matched the picture Finn had just painted.
“He gave it to me,” she said softly.
“Gave you what?”
“The necklace.” When he pushed her back again, she reached down and touched the tear-shaped red gem the size of a quarter. “At Palladium. After I came down from the stairwell with you. Just before”—she swallowed—“just before they killed him. He pulled me aside, slipped the necklace around my throat and asked me to keep it safe for him.”
Finn’s brow pulled together. “Did he say why?”
She thought back to that last moment with Javier. She’d been so upset over what had happened with Finn in the stairwell, she’d barely paid attention to Javier’s ramblings. “No, he just said it was a pain in his ass. The family devil or something like that.”
Finn sat up, the low light reflecting the muscular planes of his chest, the dark stubble on his jaw. His face took on a serious look. “Devil? He used the word devil? Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” she said, easing up herself, clutching the sheet to her breasts. “What now?”
He fingered the gem. “The new improved drug the Cárdenas Cartel’s unveiling used to be called red devils.”
She glanced down at the gem nestled just above her cleavage. “Are you saying you think this thing contains—”
“No.” He turned it in his fingers. “There’s nothing inside this. I took a close look when you were asleep. It’s some kind of transparent stone. Could be colored glass, I guess. But . . .”
“But what?”
He shrugged. “I’m no expert, but the way it sparkles, it almost looks . . .”
“What?”
“Real.”
Lauren looked down again. “A real ruby? No way. It has to be fake. Costume jewelry. You can get stuff like this at Macy’s, for crying out loud. Besides, if it was real, what would Javier have been doing with a ruby this size in Palladium ? And what would a ruby have to do with those gunmen or the Cárdenas Cartel?”
“I don’t know,” Finn answered. “But it’s one more piece of this puzzle worth looking in—”
The phone on the bedside table blared. Finn tensed beside her, but leaned over to pick up the receiver. He didn’t say hello, but the heavily accented rapid-fire voice on the other end of the line came through loud and clear. Finn glanced Lauren’s way as he tossed back the covers and pushed to his feet. Before he could say anything to her, a loud popping sound echoed over the line, and he tore the phone from his ear.
“Sonofabitch.” He dropped the phone as if it had burned him. “Get dressed. Right now.”
She scrambled from the bed. “What happenedan>
Finn was already in his jeans by the time Lauren came back in the room, clothes in hand. He tugged on the shirt she tossed him, checked the magazine on his handgun. “That was the motel owner. They found us.”
Fear burst in Lauren’s throat. Hands shaking, she dragged on her dirty clothes and hustled across the floor to the window Finn was already prying open. “Come on, Slim. Hustle.”
That popping sound had been gunfire. Again. Was the motel owner dead now? Swallowing the bile rising in her throat, Lauren gripped the window ledge with one hand, put the other on Finn’s shoulder, bracing herself as he helped her up. Before she could get all the way out the window, gunfire exploded behind them, tearing apart the door to the small motel room.
“Go!”
Finn shoved her out the window. She hit the ground on her shoulder, groaned at the stab of pain and rolled to the side. Seconds later, Finn was beside her, hauling her up by the arm and dragging her across the dirt-strewn back lot. “Run!”
She didn’t have any other choice. Pushing her legs as fast as she could, she didn’t slow until they reached the old beat-up truck behind the office. Finn cranked the door open, pushed her inside. Shouts echoed behind them. Finn slammed the door, shoved the key in the ignition. “Please, baby. Start.”
The truck coughed once, expelling a burst of exhaust, then turned over.
“Yes!” Finn shoved the truck into reverse, slapped his hand on the back of the seat and whipped the truck around. Gunfire echoed behind them. His hand hit her in the head, forcing her to fall across the seat. “Get down!”
Lauren covered her head with her hands and tried to stay on the seat as the truck whipped back and forth on the gravel. They turned toward the road, but just before they reached the pavement, Finn slammed on the brakes. Lauren’s body sailed forward into the dash, then dropped to the floorboards.
She squealed, then groaned. Finn didn’t seem to notice. He rolled the window down, lifted the gun and aimed.
Gunfire echoed in Lauren’s ears. Shouts followed. The truck’s tires spun out but finally found pavement. More gunfire exploded behind them, and then all sound faded but the hum of the old engine and the beat of Lauren’s racing heart.
She pushed herself up from the floor, crawled back on the seat. “What the hell was that?”
Finn’s jaw was a slash of steel beneath his skin as he shook his head. “I don’t know how they found us so fast. I shot out their tires, so hopefully they won’t be able to follow us.”
“Oh, my God,” she whispered, sinking back into the seat, staring out at the headlights illuminating the barren road. “The motel owner.”
“Don’t think about it.”
Right. Like that was possible. She fingered the gem at her chest. Was all this really about some stupid necklace?
Finn reached for the phone in his pocket, hit a number and held the phone to his ear. “Jake? They found us. Shit, yeah, we’re on the move. No, we’re both okay. Wait. I’m gonna put you on speaker.”
He hit a button, set the phone on the dashboard. “Lauren’s here with me.”
Lauren. Why, in the midst of a life-or-death crisis, did the sound of her name on his lips set off butterflies in her stomach ?
“Busy night for you, Ms. Kauffman. You doing okay?”
Jake Ryder had a strong, confident voice, one that for some odd reason put Lauren at ease. “I’m still alive. I guess that counts as okay.”
A soft chuckle echoed from the phone. “Balls of steel,” he muttered. “Tierney, you were wrong.”
Lauren had no idea what the man meant by that, but Finn obviously did. “I know,” he muttered. “Look, what do you know about a ruby called the Red Devil?”
Silence echoed over the line, followed by the distinct sound of computer keys clicking. “Nothing, but then I’m not big on the gem trade. Why?”
Finn checked the rearview mirror and glanced at Lauren. “Santiago gave Lauren a necklace. A teardrop-shaped gem, looks like a ruby, could be glass but . . . sonofabitch is big. He called it ‘the devil.’”
“Lauren,” Jake said af
ter a moment’s pause. “Describe it for me.”
She told him what she could, detailed the shape and weight and color of the gem, then said¸ “It can’t be real, can it?”
“I don’t know,” Jake answered. “Let me do some research. I’ll call you back.”
The phone clicked off. Finn glanced in the rearview again, then turned off on a side road, one Lauren didn’t even see in the dark.
“Are we being followed?” Anxiety amping, she twisted in her seat to look behind them.
“No, I’m just being cautious.” He looked her way, the lights from the old dash illuminating the contours of his now-familiar face, the bruise across his jaw, the little hickey on his neck she’d given him only hours ago. “You’re pretty damn good in a crisis, Slim.”
She sat back again, couldn’t help feeling warmed by his compliment. Then cooled by that nickname all over again. Fortunately, her heart rate was finally back in the normal range, and she felt she could breathe once more. “You’re not so bad yourself.” She looked ahead at the dirt and gravel illuminated by the truck’s headlights and the thickening jungle on both sides of the makeshift road. “Where to now?”
“Jake has an operative who’s got a place down here. He’s got a chopper at his ranch. Should be able to fly us out.”
“An operative? Way out here?”
“Yeah. He’s kind of on a break.”
“What kind of break sends a guy out into the sweltering jungle?”
Finn gripped the steering wheel as they bounced over a large pothole. “A pretty big one. Why don’t you lie down and get some sleep. We’ve got a long drive ahead of us.”
Alone with Finn in the cab of the truck, surrounded by nothing but darkness, for the first time all night Lauren felt safe. And tired. More tired than she’d been in longer than she could remember. She lifted her bare feet onto the seat, shifted over so she could rest her head on Finn’s thigh. He tensed, and for a second she thought he was going to ask her to move over. But then he dropped his right hand and ran it down her hair.
Her eyes slid closed. A sigh slipped from her lips. Yeah, she could totally get used to this. Not the guns and running and scare-the-shit-out-of-her part, but the comfort. These hands. This man. Somehow, before whatever this was was over, she had to convince him he needed to get used to her as well.
CHAPTER 6
Dammit.” Finn pullhe old truck as far off the road as he could before it died.
Lauren pushed herself up from his lap. Blond hair fell over her face as she licked her lips and looked around with eyes sleepy and sexy as hell. “Wh . . . what happened?”
Resisting the urge to reach for her, Finn pushed his door open. “Ran out of gas. We’re gonna have to hoof it from here.”
Lauren’s eyes cleared. Her brows knitted together as she looked out the windshield at the gray morning light seeping in through the thick jungle canopy. “What? How far is it? I still don’t have any shoes, remember?”
“No more than three miles.” Finn reached under the seat.
“And don’t worry. I’ve got you covered. These slid out from under the seat when we turned a corner.” He pulled out a filthy pair of dingy orange flip-flops that had obviously seen better days.
Lauren stared at the flip-flops. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Come on, Slim. I’m sure these shoes have sentimental value for someone.”
She frowned, took the flip-flops with restrained enthusiasm and slid them on her feet. “You owe me a pair of Givenchys. I’m not gonna forget this.”
He didn’t say anything as she slid out of the cab of the truck, her skirt riding high on her thighs. Told himself he didn’t want to take her shopping to pick out that pair of Givenchys. Definitely didn’t want to see her slide her sexy feet into those icepick heels and model them just for him, naked.
Sweat broke out on his forehead. He turned away, wiped his brow. Reminded himself about being a class-A schmuck. It was all he’d been able to think about this morning while she’d been asleep with her head nestled on his lap. There wasn’t going to be a repeat of last night. He wasn’t going down this road again, no matter how smart and unique and sexy she was. Last night had been . . . a reaction. A surge of adrenaline. A rush of hormones. A natural response to a near-death experience. It didn’t mean anything.
Keep telling yourself that, buddy.
He pulled in a breath, let it out slowly. Okay, so it had been hotter than hot. More erotic than his X-rated dream. The best sex he’d had in . . . shit, a long-ass time. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t a monumental mistake. He had a job to do here. He was going to get her to Archer’s compound and then get her the hell out of Mexico. And that would be it.
Resigned, he pulled out his satellite phone, checked the GPS coordinates and pointed through the trees. “That way.”
They hadn’t trudged more than a half mile before he wished he’d had the foresight to stop for water in one of the small towns they’d driven through early that morning. He whipped off his shirt, swiped the sweat off his face and neck, then stuffed the dingy rayon in his back pocket. From the corner of his eye he saw Lauren pulling the skimpy top she wore away from her chest, fanning the fabric to cool herself off.
Images of her succulent breasts popped into his head. Of her arching her back, offering them to his mouth. He clenched his jaw and tried to force the memories away.
Didn’t work.
“Did you hear back from your friend Jake while I was asleep?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“And?”
He’d wanted to avoid this conversation, but at least it kept him from imagining what it would feel like to slide into her naked bodrom behind. How it would feel to caress her breasts until she screamed his name again like she’d done last night.
He wiped the growing sweat from his brow. Told himself to refocus. The info Jake had passed on changed things dramatically. He stopped on the path so she could catch her breath. “Know much about Aztec mythology?”
“No. Do you?”
“Not much. There are a bunch of gods and goddesses, way too many to remember. All do different stuff. Anyway, this one goddess, Chantico, she’s like the goddess of fire. Her symbols are a red serpent and cactus spikes, and she rules over fire, wealth and precious stones within the earth.”
Lauren’s brow drew together, and he could almost read her mind. She knew where this was going.
He looked at a bird chirping high in the canopy. “When Cortez swept through Mexico, he commandeered more than just Aztec gold. He loaded boats full of Aztec treasures and sent them back to Spain. Including, according to legend, one twenty-five carat, rare red diamond known as ‘the red serpent.’ The gem of Chantico herself.”
Lauren’s hand drifted to her throat, but her eyes stayed locked on his. Finn figured she was as speechless as he’d been when Jake told him what he’d found, so he went on.
“The way the story goes, Chantico’s got quite a temper, and she doesn’t like thievery, especially when it involves something that belongs in Mexico. Several of those ships went down in hurricanes. Were never seen or heard from again. Treasure hunters have been scavenging sunken Spanish galleons in the Caribbean for decades, with no sign of the diamond. About two years ago, a guy made the find of a lifetime. A rare red diamond. Which historians quickly called the Red Devil.
“It sold at auction for some insane amount—talking millions and millions of dollars here—but before the treasure hunter could collect, he was killed in a car accident. The buyer had plans to take it out of Mexico, but he died in a freak boating accident before he could do that, and his son, who—after several death threats—was convinced the diamond was cursed, loaned it to the National History Museum of Mexico so it would be out of his possession.”
“Good Lord.”
“It gets better. Three weeks ago, the diamond was stolen from its display box in the museum. No one’s seen it since.”
Lauren was silent for a second and then said, �
��You’re saying this is a diamond . . . not just a ruby?”
“I’m saying it’s possible, yeah.”
“And Javier stole it?”
“No. If this is the Red Devil from the stories, the Cárdenas Cartel stole it. Which is why they want it back so bad. My guess? Javier stole it from them. Why? Who knows. Maybe he wanted it for himself. Maybe he wanted to piss them off. Maybe he wanted to return it where it belonged. I don’t know. Bottom line . . . they killed him because of it.”
She looked down at the ground, her fingers still on the stone at her chest. “They knew he was with me. They must have figured he gave it to me.”
“Yeah.” That was his guess, too.
“My God, this isn’t about drugs after all. It’s about one cursed necklace.”
“Not cursed, Slim. Superstitions may run deep in this country, but that thing’s no more cursed than those shoes you’re wearing. It’s just a stone. Worth a lot of money. I told you before, everything comes down to money.”
“Not to me.Money’s not nearly as important as people think.” Her fingers slid up to the chain around her neck. “I shouldn’t be wearing this. I—”
He covered her hands with his own, brought hers down in front of her. “I think it’s safest right where it is. You’ve taken good care of it so far. Let’s not rock the boat, okay?”
Her eyes settled on his. “Do I sense a little superstition, Tierney ?”
The corner of his mouth curled up. He liked her, dammit. The more time he spent with her, the harder that fact was to deny. “I’m Irish, Slim. A little superstition comes with the blood. But that doesn’t mean I think things are doomed.”
“I like hearing that,” she said, her husky voice just above a whisper. “I really like hearing that.”
He looked from the gem to her brilliant blue eyes and had the strangest sensation they weren’t talking about the necklace anymore. An image of their bodies tangled in the sheets of last night’s bed slid through his mind, lighting up his blood and squeezing his chest so hard it hurt to draw breath.
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