Desire & Deception

by Sahara Roberts

  “I was led down some stairs, pushed into the backseat of a vehicle, and told to call Monica to meet me at the airport. We were able to get on the flight to Detroit.”

  “Anything else you’d wish to tell us?”

  “No, ma’am.” She shook her head. “There’s nothing else.”

  “Your return is the lead story on every news station. I’m afraid you’ll be hard-pressed to find any privacy for a while. Be prepared for reporters on your doorstep until this blows over.”

  Tessa grimaced.

  Sofia capped her pen as she mulled something over. “I’m sorry about what you went through, Tessa. I hope you consider counseling to help you move on with your life.”

  “Thank you for your concern.” Tessa nodded, her chest feeling hollow.

  “I’ll have Monica and dinner sent in, then we’ll get you to a hotel for the night.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Try as he might, Kris couldn’t get Tessa out of his head. Her teasing smiles, the swell of her breast, her body open to him in invitation.

  Lord, she was dangerous.

  “You’re miles away.” Sofia’s raspy voice dragged him back to the all-in-one exercise machine in the corner of the gym.

  “Sorry.” He continued to put his muscles through the repetitions without much effort. In truth, he hadn’t registered going off into his own thoughts again—thoughts of a curvy redhead with a killer smile.

  Sofia Johnson, aka Ida, searched his face. As his handler for the past ten years, she knew him better than anyone.

  When the task force was put together, they were completely off the grid.

  She’d been pulled from a South American op and reclassified as an Identification Analyst or IDA, thus her handle.

  He’d gone from college to ICE, helping to infiltrate the cartel gaining strength in the Monterrey area.

  He had connections he could tap through his friends and their families; she had experience with the culture and language.

  “How about you give your audience a break so I can talk to Special Agent Harmon?”

  Numerous women were using the gym during lunch today. Two weren’t in workout clothes, merely chatting in a corner, stealing glances at him. He released the handles on the weight set, stretching his arms with a scowl.

  “Of course.” Pulling down his sleeves, he followed her out as dozens of eyes tracked their progress.

  “Dessert is over ladies,” she murmured as they walked past.

  Three hallways, two floors, and few more interested women later, they arrived at her office. She motioned for him to sit while she grabbed drinks from her little fridge.

  “So what’s bothering you?”

  He lifted an eyebrow in question.

  “Don’t give me that!” she scoffed. “Are you feeling guilty over what happened?”

  “No, we all get what’s coming to us.” He was lucky he hadn’t ruined everything. “I half-expected a trap when Felipe handed me the bag.”

  In the long run, Felipe probably had a more merciful ending than rotting in a Mexican prison. Ironic that Felipe finally took the top spot and nobody would know he was behind the wheel when the SUV blew up. Luckily, the only injuries to civilians had been from glass shattering due to the shockwave from the vehicle exploding at the entrance of the airport.

  “So are you shell-shocked?” Her forehead furrowed. “A lot changed since you left.”

  She’d hit the nail on the head. He’d celebrated his birthday with friends in Mexico. After a night of drinking, he’d announced he was tired of hassling with school. He was ready to make some real money and start living life.

  A few haphazardly tossed words and he’d been ushered to the dark side.

  As the years passed, he’d learned to shut himself off. The dealing, set ups, drugs, and bodies were just another day at the office. He’d continued with a single-minded purpose—bring down the cartel.

  Monica called, stirring doubts. They’d been inseparable growing up, now he spoke to her a couple of times a year at most. The clan proliferated in his absence. He’d passed family members on the street without acknowledgement on either part for safety’s sake. Some were surrounded with half-grown children he couldn’t recognize or had never met.

  Reality finally hit home. His parents had died almost two decades ago. They wouldn’t want him to live his life cutoff from his loved ones and facing danger at every turn. He’d accomplished what he wanted, and gotten their killer, to boot.

  He popped his neck and confessed, “I’m out of my element.”

  “How so?” She settled into her big, comfy office chair, one of the perks of her position, and waited for him to enlighten her.

  He exhaled, drawing his thoughts. “Ever sit back and realize life is passing you by?” A huge weight lifted off his shoulders.

  “Your dove.” It was more a statement than a question.

  Doubt settled in his stomach as a collage of memories flashed through his head. “Yeah, I suppose so,” he said quietly. He’d spent hours staring at the phone. Did they have something to build on? Could he offer her a relationship? Did he even know what that was?

  “I wondered. You’d never stepped outside the line before.”

  She pulled a file from her desk. “When we started, you were a kid, still a wet behind the ears Probie. You came back a fine man. It’s natural you’d want to get your life together after a long hiatus.” She watched him nod without saying a word. “I assume you don’t know how she feels about you.”

  “I’m certain she cares, but considering the circumstances…” He drank from the soda and grimaced at the odd flavor. After years of drinking Mexican Coke, with pure cane sugar, the U.S. version was hard to take. “With the way things went down, I just needed to get her out. Feelings weren’t a consideration at the time.”

  She’d begged him to follow, her eyes huge, tears streaming down her face. Every fiber screamed for him to do so. To leave everything behind.

  The memory still brought an agonizing tightness to his chest. For the first time in years, he’d experienced true regret over the life he’d chosen.

  He’d known the consequences of a drawn-out, undercover assignment. But the past week, the only cover he wanted to be under was made of cotton with Tessa writhing beneath him.

  Sofia opened the file and stared at Tessa’s photo. “So what? You’re thinking Stockholm Syndrome?”

  “No.” His leg bounced. “But I don’t think she’d want her former kidnapper showing up at the door.”

  “Well, I’d say you’re way off base.” She flipped the page around. “Tessa never gave you up. According to her statement, she was blindfolded and held in a room by herself. She identified three men, two of whom are verified to be dead.”

  Satisfied, she smiled as she recounted her favorite part of the interrogation. “I can’t stand Leland Reynolds—self-important ass pisses me off more every time I’m forced to deal with the FBI. Ugh! Anyway, after this girl’d been through hell, he started threatening to keep her in custody until he was satisfied with the information she provided.”

  His body went rigid.

  Sofia chuckled. “Now-now, let me finish,” she tsked. “She gave him one of your dead looks and told him she’d spent four days tied up, blah-blah-blah. Did he think having the government hold her was a threat?” She slammed her hand on the desk. “Ha!”

  “He’s lucky she didn’t try to take him down.” He laughed.

  “She’s a real firecracker.”

  Kris pulled her driver’s license out of the file to study her picture. No need to look at the address. He’d memorized it, even though she’d already moved.

  “She’s cute, too.” Sofia studied him.

  “Beautiful.”

  “Smelled like flowers under the dirty clothes, and wild hair.” Leave it to Sofia to literally sniff out his secret. “Figured some of the details didn’t make it into the report.”

  He remained silent. Writing that report had been hard. Ever
y memory threatened to break his will. He could remember every sideways glance, every meal she’d enjoyed, every touch they’d shared.

  “How wound up are you about this woman?’ she asked, intrigued.

  From the first moment he’d seen her, it had been there. Not physical attraction, or sexual attraction, or even good old-fashioned lust. Awareness. Awareness of an elusive something between two people that makes them complete. The chemistry, the laughter, and the incredible sex all came with it.

  He inhaled, long and deep. “Enough that for a few seconds, I thought about changing my life.” He gave her a crooked smile. “I guess that’s a lot for me.”

  “That’s a lot for anybody, kiddo.” She glanced around, heedful of her surroundings. “I know what you’re going through. I’m turning in my resignation at the end of the day.”

  “Wow.” A slow, encompassing smile lit his face. “We wrapped things up just in time.”

  “I’ve had the plan on the back burner for a while.” She grinned. “I raised four kids. Now that the youngest is home, I can turn the porch light off.” Her pointed look left no doubt about who she meant.

  A lump rose up his chest. He pressed his lips together and nodded.

  “You’ve served your country well. Cleaned up Border Patrol, US Customs, and various law enforcement agencies in the process. I’m sorry your Presidential Award couldn’t have the hype it deserved after what you’ve given up. But I’m honored I could be by your side. Your parents would be proud.”

  She tapped her fingers on the file again. “Right now the world is your oyster. You have a promotion coming with yet another raise. Free reign to transfer anywhere and do anything you want. Not to mention a tidy bank account.” She shook her head. “On the job, detaching yourself from your feelings is necessary. In real life, you embrace them. None of it means a damn thing if you’re not happy.”

  He gave a mocking laugh. “You’re assuming a lot. What if she wants nothing to do with me?”

  “Take the chance and find out. Otherwise, you’ll always wonder how things would’ve been.”

  If. Might. Could be. Those possibilities were a bigger challenge than infiltrating the Mexican cartel. He’d been dealing with nothing less than absolutes for most of his life. Being careless and unprepared had gotten his parents killed—had started him down this road. “What if” had no place in his life.

  “No.” He had to get ahold of himself. “She needs to get on with her life. I need to get back to work.”

  Sofia nodded. “If that’s what you want.” He remained silent. Better to bite his tongue than lie to her. “I got an assignment that’s right up your alley.”

  …

  She sent him to Texas. Specifically, to a quiet, middle-class neighborhood in Austin that enjoyed a very low crime rate, delivery from a number of restaurants, and a beautiful view of the lake in the evening. He’d spent the past few days sitting in the upstairs bedroom of a vacant, two-story house across the street and two doors down from Tessa’s place.

  He couldn’t be upset. Ida hadn’t exactly had to twist his arm to take the assignment. She’d told him to sit on the house for a week or two, just to make sure Tessa didn’t get any unexpected visitors. He’d know when it was time to pack it in.

  As much as common sense said to walk away and let his feelings die a slow death, another part of him wished he’d boarded the plane with her. A decision like that would have been reckless. Things were better off with his alter ego dead. He’d have to keep a low profile for years to come, limiting his freedom to a certain extent. A life he kept telling himself he shouldn’t drag anyone else into.

  Tessa had settled into her new three-bedroom house quite nicely. Ida had a few listening devices strategically placed when the internet went in to keep track of what was happening. He’d spent hours listening to her voice while dealing with people’s computer issues. She was polite and efficient, getting her callers back to work and off the line as quickly as possible. A few questions had cropped up about her trip to Mexico, but she’d carefully sidestepped any pertinent details.

  She ended her call and logged out of her phone. Thud. The house went silent. While she could have bumped into a piece of furniture, somehow, he didn’t think so. He went still, staring into space while he strained to hear what was going on. While he’d had mixed feeling about intruding into her privacy, suddenly, he wished Ida had thought to include at least one camera in her plan. He grabbed the binoculars to make sure he hadn’t missed anything suspicious. Nothing.

  He had a clear view of the entrance to the neighborhood. Three vehicles had come in during the last hour. Two had gone to their respective homes while the third was unloading furniture at the other end of the street.

  One…two…three… Concern gnawed away at what little patience he had left. “Come on baby,” he coaxed out loud. “Close the laptop. Let me hear the chair squeak so I know you’re okay.” He took off, lengthening his stride as he reached for the weapon at the back of his waist.

  “Hey,” Tessa’s voice stopped him halfway out the door. One hand on the wall, he sagged against the door frame. “What are you up to?” The change in tone drew his attention. She sounded tired.

  “Hi there.” Monica’s voice returned through the line, laced with an edge of concern. “I’m juggling a few things to work out my residency. You?”

  “I’m restless.”

  “Like that’s supposed to be a big surprise? You’ve been hibernating all week, Tessy Bear.”

  “Moving means a lot of cleaning, unpacking, and setting up.”

  “I know,” Monica replied. “I was there, remember. You made me lift all the heavy stuff.”

  Tessa’s chuckle squeezed at his heart. “I seem to remember you had the moving guys lifting the heavy stuff—when you weren’t flirting with them, of course.”

  “Pfft. The details are of little consequence. You got everything where you wanted, didn’t you?”

  Kris grinned, enjoying their banter.

  “You feel like hitting 6th Street?”

  “No. Not really.”

  “How about I pick up a huge, cheesy, pepperoni, bacon, and jalapeño pizza along with a six of Shiner? We can sit around and shoot the breeze for a while. Maybe catch a movie on television.”

  “That sounds good.” Her tone was a little tight, but at least she was trying.

  “Let me jump in the shower and I’ll be right over.”

  The house went silent again.

  Kris logged into his laptop and clicked the least-used icon on the desktop. The social network log-in page filled the screen. He seldom used the site, popping in to catch up with Monica and the family when he was restless.

  He went directly to her friends list. T-t-t-t…He frowned. No Tessa. Maybe she went by an alias or nickname, like him. Angel, his middle name and the codename used by Ida, was set up like it belonged to a female, complete with movie trailers for random chick-flicks and posts from non-existing people. Flipping down Moni’s extensive friend’s list was fruitless. He tapped his index finger on the computer.

  Monica’s home page went blank after Sunday afternoon’s check-in at Caridad. The lunch date Tessa had never made. The previous post showed graduation pictures from family members. So many people looked different from the last time he’d seen them. So many family members he hadn’t spoken to in years …even one or two he didn’t particularly miss.

  Monica had blossomed into the family’s social butterfly. She kept up with everyone, sharing every new event they posted. Every picture in the private album she’d shared had detailed comments about the people she’d captured. A small part of him wondered if she did it for him. Providing an anchor to keep him from drifting too far away from the people that had once been his whole life.

  A few entries later, he reached the pictures she’d posted throughout the fateful weekend. Friends, family, meals, the club, and Tessa. His favorite picture had the girls sitting together, arms wrapped around each other, cheesy grins in place
for the camera. They were a study in “opposites attract”. Tessa was a light-skinned, curvy, redheaded American, and Monica a caramel-skinned, slender, Latina with straight, black hair. The single-word caption said more than any of the other pictures he’d seen. “Sisters”.

  A sad smile curved his lips. God, he was such an idiot. Did he think he could live out the rest of his life alone? Like that would be possible now that he’d known what is was like to share part of himself with someone like Tessa.

  He hardened his heart. She deserved the best after everything she’d lived through and tried to sacrifice for his family. If that meant living without her, then so be it.

  Tessa’s chair finally squeaked then the door to her office closed. A moment later, she switched on the stereo in the living room. The music flipped from station to station and finally stopped.

  Kris’s heartbeat kicked up as he listened to the first few notes of the popular love song start up–in Spanish.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Tessa peered through the peephole before opening the door.

  Monica grinned, holding up beer and pizza. “Sorry I’m late. I had an unexpected phone call.”

  Tessa’s face dropped. “Don’t tell me, reporter?” She moved aside to let Monica in, then glanced around for anyone still camping out or hiding in the bushes.

  The answering machine was blinking incessantly, and she was sick and tired of having a pop up announcing yet another email coming in. Well-meaning friends and coworkers kept calling, along with news centers from across the country. Everyone wanted her story—“Kidnapped in Mexico, the Tessa Marshal Story” or what was the other one? “Terror in Paradise, A Vacation Story Gone Wrong.”

  One publisher offered to buy the rights without the benefit of an interview.

  Tessa had declined, of course, and suggested they contact Heather. Her former roommate had been on several morning talk shows. She’d cried before America, going on about how she’d feared for their lives every minute of their abduction. Then she got arrested, along with Leroy, and the press had crucified her.