The bottom of the cherry wood scraped against the hardwood floors as she pushed away from the table and grabbed her black clutch bag from the chair next to hers. Dante may have frisked her body before they left tonight but he didn’t have to check her tiny purse. If he had, he may have spotted part of her .22. The nozzle nestled in the clip holding her hair on top of her head. As she walked she put her piece together all the while pretending to look for something in her purse.
The coat check room sat off to the side of the hostess stand. The young lady who’d taken them without reservations was busy with the line of people still waiting to get seated. Harley slipped inside. The hangers were bare, as expected with the summer weather, but the room was also empty. Harley looked at the ceiling, then down and around. Had the henchmen gotten out while she was distracted with the dessert?
Harley slipped back out the door, her heart racing. Dante hadn’t come out of the bathroom. The last thing she wanted was for him to find her gone once again. But his preoccupied state helped give her enough time to run outside through the kitchen for a quick check to settle her nerves. Dishes rattled in crates while bus boys whizzed around at her in surprise to have a guest back there with them. Young boys were easy. She pressed her finger to her red lips, motioning for them to be quiet. The chefs barked out orders to the assistants, servers shouted orders and demanded time on dishes. Harley went through with a breeze.
A distant sound of pounding music penetrated the sea air. Somewhere at the end of the street Javier was living it up while Hannah sat in a jail cell. Somewhere at the end of the street Javier sat like bait. If Alfaro’s men were here, she and Dante needed to move fast. Damn it, she swore under her breath. Because her purse was so rinky-dink, she couldn’t cram her cell phone and the body of her .22 at the same time. She needed to get in touch with Tai to tell her of the plan at the teen club. At least having eyes there could help.
Harley’s black heels clicked on the cobblestone alley echoing along the brick walls of the restaurant as she walked further down the alley. People with common sense would have walked to the front of the building toward the light and community but Harley did not want to draw anyone out into the open in case there was gunfire. Tonight didn’t have to end with her having to shoot someone, but she would if needed. The further away from the back door and Main Street she went, the easier she could hear the heavy footsteps. Someone was behind her. She drew a rugged breath, ready for action. This was her favorite part of the job—the fight. This was the time she got to release all her pent up aggravation. Working with TPD and Steve Lundy had done that to her. A stupid national holiday had done it to her. Dante had done it to her. As much as she loved undercover work, long-term cases drove her crazy. She wanted to let loose and be free. She wanted to kick ass.
“Stupid chica,” a deep voice said behind her and a heavy hand lay on her bare shoulder.
Kick ass time. Harley shrugged the hand off and with a spinning reverse round house kick, caught her assailant in the throat with the back of her black heel. The knife shaped heel sliced the side of his face. Under the pale moonlight, she pushed him against the brick wall for a better look. It wasn’t the geek from inside but it was one of Alfaro’s men. Stunned, the man’s shoulders pressed against the back of the wall. His jacket opened and revealed the butt of a Glock.
“You lookin’ to get blown tonight?” Harley asked, licking her lips. A pre-satisfied smile spread across her face at the knowledge of what was to come. For half a moment, her assailant squared his shoulders as if ready to take her up on a bit of back alley action. Men were so stupid. Harley flung herself toward him, her hand resting on the trigger. “Stupid muchacho,” she whispered huskily toward him. “You realize Glocks don’t have a safety?”
“The easier to kill you, puta,”
Harley frowned at the use of foul language. “And the easier for me to blow your dick off.”
“Oh shit!”
“Don’t shoot!” A voice yelled from the end of the alley.
Harley’s eyes narrowed to where her car sat parked under a street light. A burning tingling sensation crept down her spine. She felt violated. “What the hell? You drove my car? That’s worse than wearing my panties.”
“Put the gun down,” the voice yelled with authority.
Groaning, Harley rolled her eyes facing her assailant. Was it a cop? She saw no sign of a uniform. The second set of footsteps she heard behind her slowed down but she couldn’t see him. Trapped, Harley weighed her options. Though the one guy to her right stayed in the shadows, the man approaching stepped forward and there was no mistaking the glare of his pistol.
“You put your gun down,” Harley countered, “or your partner here gets his dick blown off.” Sure her assailant was not going to move, Harley kept one hand on the trigger in his crotch and aimed her weapon at the approaching man.
“Back the fuck up!” The man sniveled.
The approaching man started yelling in Spanish. The man in front of her started yelling as well. Harley yelled also for all of them to shut up. “Everyone, freeze,” she yelled.
“Put the gun down first.”
“No, you put the gun down and stay where you are.”
“Damn it woman, put the gun down and step away.”
The footsteps to her right began running toward them. With no other choice, Harley yanked the Glock out of the man’s waistband and kneed him in the balls with such force he crumpled to the ground screaming for the man down at the end of the alley to put his weapon down. With no threat in front of her, Harley raised a gun in each hand and pointed in both directions.
“Special Tasks Bureau! Put your weapon down!”
Sure she’d yelled it first; Harley shook her head, trying to get the male voice out of her head echoing the same exact words. The footsteps stopped. To her right, the geek came into view, holding a chain and a badge around his neck. She immediately recognized the emblem. “What the hell is going on here?”
Dante appeared to her right, his face dumbstruck. “You’re a fucking agent?”
Chapter 11
“Yeah, and so are you.” Harley acknowledged him with a carefree head nod. So busy waving her pea-shooter at him she hadn’t noticed the asshole she kneed in the nuts trying to get up.
The back alley behind Ignacio’s set up for an ominous confrontation. The brick walls seeped with moisture from the ocean water. Next door, the booming music at the night club, Raul’s, thumped through the air. A fizzling street light gave just a vision, enough to witness Harley’s expertise.
Dante shook his head, his eyes crinkled at the corners. Anger fueled him with each step forward watching as she refused to lower her weapon as he approached. He grabbed her wrist and held it off to his left while he kicked the jerk on the ground in the ribs.
“What the fuck, Dante, your girlfriend made me blow my cover!”
His roommate from the Heights growled with annoyance. Six months of undercover work blown in one evening. Honestly, Dante assumed his cover had been blown at Alfaro’s, but seeing him here tonight with one of Alfaro’s goons, things hadn’t gone awry yesterday.
“Wife,” Dante corrected. “And we can take care of this guy right now,” he pulled out his 9mm.
Harley’s eyes widened, “You said no weapons!”
“Pot, meet Kettle,” he countered with a shake of her wrist. “What the fuck are you doing with this and more importantly what the fuck are you doing being an agent?”
“I’m trying to do my job,” Harley pulled her wrist from his grip, “but you idiots keep getting in my way.”
“What job?” Dante and Tito barked.
“Well,” she started off, already her voice dripped with sarcasm, “I needed to get close to Christopher Alfaro but you guys ruined my chance,” with her heel, she kicked the man in front of her.
Dante studied her in disbelief. Did she plan on getting caught at Alfaro’s place, to get close to him? Were all those smiles flirts? With him sitting right there? His
brows drew together with more anger. “Why aren’t you surprised I’m an agent?”
She gave him a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders and slipped her .22 into the handbag she’d wedged under her arm. “I found out about you the day after we got married.”
“Yo, you married this broad?” Tito asked, not too wisely of him considering she still had the perp’s gun in her other hand pointed at him. Tito raised his weapon. “All right, poor choice in words, I’ve been around Alfaro’s men too long.”
“Find a way in for me and I’ll gladly trade places with you.”
“Like hell you’re going anywhere near Alfaro’s men. Leonardo’s working with him.” Most women gladly took the orders he gave them. Harley took his with a dismissive laugh. Once again his confidence faltered. What in the hell? Overly confident with the ability to back up everything he said, this was his shtick. “I’m serious, Harley.”
“And?” Harley lowered her weapon from Tito’s direction.
“Leonardo and Alfaro are already here,” Tito said. “They brought us.”
The man on the ground in the fetal position growled over his pain. “Christopher is going to kill you,” he told Tito. “I told him you couldn’t be trusted.”
Tito forced a smile as he explained. “The chick’s little explosion act got my scan questioned about you.”
“I knew there had to be something wrong with your system,” Harley snapped her fingers.
Had she known? She’d known all this time he was an agent and never said anything to him? No, he mentally corrected himself. Harley said a lot to him, she questioned his genuine feelings. He was pissed off. More than pissed off. He wanted to hit someone. “You played me.”
“And you didn’t play me when you married me the other night?”
“Who’s your handler?” asked Tito.
“Makana Leonard,” said Harley.
Dante and Tito both cursed. A former member of the Undesirables, they would do anything for her. She was pretty badass when it came to weaponry. Did it surprise him Harley was working with her? Considering the way he watched her take down this prick, not at all. Makana made sure all her agents were skilled. Back in the day she acted as their handler until she wouldn’t stand down when their team member Elliott Ash had been set up for a terrorist conspiracy. Dante didn’t fuck with backstabbers but he also didn’t turn his back on his friends. The whole team bucked together and fought to save Elliott’s ass. She probably still harbored ill will toward the Undesirables.
“What did Mak tell you?” Dante asked.
“It doesn’t matter what she told me, the fact is you didn’t say shit to me about what you did for a living.”
“And you did?” Dante’s voice rose.
Tito cleared his throat, “Uh, guys can we move this conversation elsewhere? Alfaro wanted to get something to eat while I waited outside this club.”
“Vuelo?” Dante and Harley chorused. For a brief second Dante enjoyed the fact their minds thought on the same level. Then he quickly remembered all the shit she gave.
Tito’s eyes darted between the two of them. “Yeah, know the place?”
“Yea,” the newlyweds said again, this time, sharing a brief smile.
“Well, Vuelo is Alfaro’s shopping ground for young drunk girls.”
Dante frowned, “It’s a twenty-one and under club.”
Harley tsked under the light of the alley, then rolled her eyes, “You think the age limit stops kids from drinking?”
“We were on our way,” Dante ignored her snide question. “What’s he doing with the girls?”
“I believe he is swapping them for weapons from Leonardo Marchette.”
Dante cursed. So that was Leonardo’s new business line? Supplying local dealers with weapons in trade for young innocent girls? His stomach rolled at the thought. The slave trade was alive and well in the U.S.
“Where is he taking these girls?” asked Harley.
“Your friend’s magic show kicked me out of the loop,” Tito frowned, “I’m back on probation thanks to you two.”
“You hit him under the table!” Harley’s voice perked up realizing Tito saved them.
“I said the smoke got in my eyes,” Tito grinned at Harley.
Dante, as angry as he was with Harley’s revelation, did not like the flirting banter between Tito and Harley.
“But some people wanted to tattle, isn’t that right Melo?” Tito stepped forward and kicked the moaning man’s back. “Where is Alfaro keeping the girls?”
“Fuck you!”
Tito leaned down and jerked the man into a standing position, slamming his back against the brick wall. Pieces of cement fell to the floor with a clatter.
Dante knew how much was at stake right now. The man would be no use to them dead. “Let’s let Roman handle him.”
“You’ll be praying for death,” Tito said to the man.
“While you boys sit here and play,” Harley reached into her little bag to extract a mirror. After kicking a guy’s ass, she still looked hot as hell. “I’m out.”
“Out?” Dante blinked his eyes. His eyebrow rose.
“Oh c’mon now, Dante,” Harley tossed over her shoulder as she headed down toward the end of the alley, “What did you think? We’d stay and finish up this dinner with some dessert?”
In truth, he wanted to finish up with a bit of sex, but this revelation wiped that off the table. Dante inhaled deeply and blew out with a heavy sigh. “Whatever, Harley. Go do what you need to do but don’t expect me to save your ass.”
The switch of her walk and the sway of her ass distracted him from the sarcastic laugh echoing through the alley where her car awaited,
“Hey look at it this way, at least this time I’m leaving right in front of you.” Harley slammed the driver’s side door and the engine roared almost with a mocking laugh as well, her ring finger glittering under the moon’s light as she flipped them off.
“You drove her car here?” asked Roman.
“I couldn’t resist the sweet ride,” Tito shrugged. “So the Mrs., eh? Charming.”
Dante could only stand back and watch Harley peel out down the street. He imagined when he returned to the hotel, her things would be gone. Since she hadn’t gotten Hannah out of jail yet, he guessed she’d spend the night on her friend’s yacht. He had no doubt Tai would be ready to pick her up and give her an earful of ‘I told you so’.
“She can be charming,” Dante finally said.
“What’s our next move?”
“Gonna go save my wife.”
****
The leather seats beneath her ass welcomed her. Fucker! Harley seethed running her hands over her steering wheel, “I’m sorry those oafs think they can take their liberties with us!” she said to her car.
Fortunately the light over Dante’s head flickered and the shock on his face was priceless. She should be relieved they were both exposed. This whole boondoggle proved they should not be a couple or even toy with the idea of dating. He couldn’t tell the truth even if it was staring him in the face. Even then he couldn’t. His team member came out with the truth. She waved her hand out the window and kept going.
The nighttime life of Villa San Juan varied. At Ignacio’s, the salsa crowd liked to go and eat and dance. Next door, the nephew ran a club for the twenty-one and over crowd, which brought in the range of drunk twenty-one through thirty-five year olds into the street. Harley headed down main street avoiding people walking out into the cobblestone streets. She loved this city as a teen. Now she wasn’t so sure, not when she had responsibilities.
Vuelo sat at the corner of the villa plaza, where a lot of shops stood. A bronze statue had been erected of Villa San Juan’s founder, Gustavo Torres. The larger than life man held a map in one hand and an explorer’s telescope over the other. His legs were set apart, the hand holding the map clenched in his fist on his hip, proud of the island he’d discovered. Harley backed into a parking space right outside of the local bar, Coconuts. This was
more her style, a bit more casual, jeans and t-shirt clad blue collar professionals hanging around chugging down beer. Her dress and come-fuck-me-pumps might warrant some unwanted attention from some of the drunk guys; nothing she couldn’t handle. The clock on her dashboard indicated Vuelo should be letting out the next half hour. She needed to regroup. After sending Tai a text message of her coordinates, she got out of her car, crossed the town square, ignoring the cat calls from men and the go-to-hell-glances from women, and found a spot on the brick circle surrounding the Gustavo Torres statue.
Truth be told, she hated this place. She hated wanting to belong to the crowd so bad she was willing to do anything. Anything. She shivered at the memory of her thoughtless mistake after a night like this. Instead of clubs they partied on rooftops, under boardwalks and by firesides. There’d been no clubs, just rooftop parties, but the typical flirting and drinking went on and then some.
“Harley Tomasello?”
And here was the then some. Goosebumps on top of her shiver pricked her skin all over for conjuring up this man. Harley dragged her eyes from the crowd at the door to the well-dressed man in front of her. Still as devilishly handsome, Julio Torres was too damn good looking for his own good. He was the start of her love for a man in a suit.
“It’s me,” he pressed his hand to his chest, “Julio Torres.”
His casual way of reintroducing himself irritated her to all levels of hell. As if she hadn’t spent her summers fawning over him like every other girl on the island. As if the time they spent together meant nothing, which now she foolishly understood. Julio Torres caught her off guard once again. His devastatingly handsome good looks made many doors open in life and with women. Ignacio probably called him the minute he recognized her.
Of course she’d run into him here. Wasn’t the saying you couldn’t turn a corner without running into a Torres. Why this Torres?
“Wow, are you serious, Julio?” Harley rose to her feet, glad she wore something drop-dead sexy. Much better to meet him again dressed like this than a bikini.
Mr. and Mrs. Rossi Page 14