by Connie Mann
She shifted Eduardo and pointed to the map as inspiration struck. “Go north to Gramado,” she said. “It’s a tourist town they call the Europe of Brazil.” At his raised eyebrow, she added, “Its architecture and atmosphere are supposed to look like a town in the Alps. The place is always crawling with tourists.”
“I know it.” He refolded the map with impressive speed. “Let’s make sure we’ve lost our friend before we head that way.”
He pulled the keys from the ignition, got out of the car and opened the trunk. Seconds later her bag landed in the back seat with a thump and then he was back in the car and steering them on a roundabout route in and around Porto Alegre.
And always, he kept one eye glued to the rearview mirror.
The man stopped at an intersection in one of the worst favelas of the city and slammed his right hand on the steering wheel. His left shoulder throbbed in time to his heartbeat, and a red haze burned before his eyes. He angled his chin so he could get a better look at the wound. The blood seeping through the bandage precipitated another round of heartfelt curses.
He had not been expecting Brooks to be at House of Angels, much less armed. His contact had told him the man was burned out—useless. He believed Brooks was too drunk most of the time to be any kind of threat whatsoever. So, he’d been unpleasantly surprised to see him at the orphanage earlier. But his contact said Brooks’s mother had talked him into picking up the kid. As a favor to her.
He applied more pressure to the wound, hatred building. He’d underestimated his enemy once. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.
He slowly cruised the streets, seeking his quarry. If luck smiled on him, he’d spot them before they left the city. That they would leave, he had no doubt. It was what he would do.
He continued up and down streets, always watchful, confident that a calm and orderly search would eventually bring him the results he wanted.
Half an hour later, his efforts were rewarded. He spotted the taillights of the Toyota disappearing around a corner.
He smiled as he stomped down on the accelerator.
Several streets away, Brooks got that niggling feeling at the back of his neck. The one that meant things were not as they should be. The same one he’d gotten before his last mission exploded in a hail of gunfire. He turned his head to tell Regina to hurry and stopped short. The bossy Miss da Silva knelt on her seat, trying to hold an increasingly fussy Eduardo while she rooted around in a bag the size of a bathtub. With that mane of hair forever hanging in her eyes, he marveled the woman could see past the end of her nose, horn-rimmed spectacles notwithstanding. His eyes narrowed. For all her motherly looks, the woman had surprisingly shapely legs. Who’d have thought it?
Annoyed with his thoughts, his words were sharper than he intended. “Hurry it up. We may get company.”
Her head snapped up and thumped against the car’s ceiling. The baby quit fussing and began squalling in earnest. Brooks looked in the side mirror again. He thought he’d spotted the Fiat when he made that last turn.
He ducked in a narrow little alley that was dark as sin, cut the engine and waited. Eduardo’s screams pierced the stillness. “Shut that kid up. Now.”
The woman lunged back in her seat, shoved a bottle between the kid’s lips and treated Brooks to a glare that could have melted steel. Whoever said brown eyes were soft and puppy-dog sweet had never been on the Senhorita’s bad side.
Eduardo let out one last half-hearted cry and then settled down to serious sucking.
Brooks twisted in his seat and kept his eyes on the mouth of the alley. Mentally, he counted off the seconds. One, two, three. He’d only gotten to thirty-five when the Fiat slowly cruised past. He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck, making the muscles in his forearm and shoulder scream in protest.
He looked down and saw the child suckling happily. Then he looked up at his companion. Regina met his gaze calmly, but he could see fear shining in her eyes.
He saw it, but didn’t want to. Didn’t want to see this little kid, either. Both of them depending on him to get them to safety. He almost laughed at the irony of it. Of all the possible options, these two had a worthless shell of a man to protect them. They’d be better off climbing out of the car, flagging down the Fiat, and begging the shooter for mercy. Or even calling the local police, futile though that would undoubtedly be. In this part of the world, the wheels of justice turned slowly, if at all, and then only if one applied enough grease to the appropriate palms.
He squeezed his eyes shut, then snapped them open again and started the car. Closing them proved dangerous. Every time he did, he saw another child, another innocent, gunned down. His fault; his failure.
He had to get away. His gut roiled as obligation settled over him like an unbearable stench. He couldn’t do it. He would dump these two somewhere safe and catch the next plane to the States. Or he’d call his buddy Jax while he hunted down answers about their last mission.
Brooks wasn’t sure what he’d landed in the middle of. He just knew he wasn’t man enough for the job.
Five minutes passed, then ten. Eduardo finished the bottle and Regina quietly put him to her shoulder to burp, rubbing his back all the while. She almost began singing, as much for Eduardo’s sake as her own, but one look at the granite-hard profile beside her convinced her of the wisdom of silence.
Eduardo eased into sleep, and Regina breathed a prayer of thanks, though her heart continued to hammer against her ribs. Part of her fear stemmed from the man trying to kill them, but her traveling companion inspired a different kind of anxiety. He was too big. Too masculine. Too used to getting his own way.
She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and glanced out the rear window, but saw nothing but darkness. Maybe they’d finally lost him. She wanted to believe that, but she couldn’t, not really, and knew Brooks didn’t either.
She caressed Eduardo’s cheek and her flagging strength returned. She had a job to do—only one—and she would do it. As soon as they were safely away, Senhor Brooks better be prepared to answer some tough questions.
Her eyes narrowed.
Like why the shooting started mere minutes after he showed up on her doorstep.
8
BROOKS CHECKED HIS WATCH. IT HAD BEEN FORTY-FIVE MINUTES SINCE THE last time they saw the Fiat. If their assailant had any experience, he would be combing the streets in a grid pattern. So if they backtracked the way they’d come, and if the man was going the other way . . . Brooks stopped his list of ifs and concentrated on the task at hand. He’d never been on a mission yet where the ifs weren’t as long as his arm. You covered the possibilities as best you could and prepared for anything.
Except he hadn’t prepared. He had zero supplies and no contingency plans. Hadn’t thought he’d need them for a two-day errand for his mother.
He shook his head. Okay. First things first. Get out of the city. Stash the woman and kid somewhere safe. Then hop the next plane out of the country.
He backed the car to the mouth of the alley and did a quick scan of the area. “Stay down,” he commanded.
Then slowly, so as not to arouse undue interest, he headed back the way they’d come and onto the highway.
Regina popped her head up as soon as they cleared the on-ramp. “You’re going the wrong way,” she pointed out.
“We’re going south.”
“Gramado is north.”
“You watch the kid. I’ll do the driving.”
She hitched her chin up and ignored him. Fine. Let her sulk. He had other things to worry about. He would swear the Fiat had been on their tail when they reached the highway.
He changed lanes again, eyes on the rearview mirror. Another car changed lanes. Might be him. Too soon to tell. Brooks sped up and passed two lumbering produce trucks. The other car kept pace. He tightened his hands on the wheel. Their man was still with them.
Beside him, the woman continued to stare out the window and ignore him. Why that rankled him he couldn
’t say. He only knew he didn’t like it. “Who is this guy?” he demanded.
She pretended not to hear him.
“Answer me.” His temper began a slow burn.
“I don’t know.”
He leaped across two lanes and cut off a Mercedes. The driver gestured angrily. “Don’t know or won’t say?”
“I said I don’t know.”
He watched their tail mirror his moves. Furious, the Mercedes driver rolled down his window and started shouting. “Then give me your best guess. I like to know why I’m being shot at.”
Regina whipped around in her seat. “Is he shooting again?” Eduardo protested her tight grip. She crooned softly.
“He just took out that Mercedes’s back tire.”
Oncoming headlights highlighted a face gone white. “We have to get away.”
“I’m working on it,” he grumbled, changing lanes again, this time putting a panel truck between them. “Give me directions. I don’t have time to read the map. Just weave us around the city so I can lose him.”
He glanced in the side mirror, then back at her. “And while we do that, start talking, lady.”
From the corner of his eye, he saw her straighten up like she had been poked with a gun barrel. “Take the next exit and make a left. As for the other, I have no idea who he is. But maybe you do.”
He again waited until the last possible second before wrenching them off the highway and back onto the city streets. He deliberately ignored her last statement. “Do you often get people shooting at the orphanage? Seems my mother would have mentioned it.”
“Turn right here, go around the traffic circle, and take the second right. It’s never happened since I’ve been there.” She paused to look at him. “Not until you showed up.”
He’d already come to the same chilling conclusion.
She guided them down a dizzying progression of streets. “Turn left here. About halfway down the block there is an allnight parking garage.”
As he slowed down, she scraped back her curly mane and rooted around in the pocket of her baggy sweater for a scrap of fabric to tie it back. She had a nice profile—and a good head on her shoulders. She didn’t scream or faint in the face of danger, and she protected her cub as fiercely as any mama bear.
He knew instinctively that Regina’s fear wasn’t just from their situation. She was afraid of him. Since he’d always been an ornery cuss, her reaction wasn’t unusual, but she visibly shook whenever he got too close. Since any girl who grew up in the slums had probably been raped, a prostitute, or both, that would certainly explain her aversion to men.
He refused to think of that brief moment of connection on the floor of the orphanage and his reaction to her nearness. He had no room in his life for a woman like her. Considering her reaction to that Jair fellow, no room in hers for a man either.
He turned into the parking garage and slid between two vans, well beyond the feeble light from a low-wattage bulb. Just to test his theory, he put his arm along the back of the seat. Regina almost shot through the roof.
Definitely afraid of men. He’d hate to use that knowledge against her, but would if it came right down to it. He didn’t ask any questions since voices would echo in the garage. He’d get his answers. Later.
Regina leaned over the seat again and fished a clean diaper and container of baby wipes out of the bag. Once she had Eduardo dry and gurgling happily on her lap, she pulled out another wipe and washed her hands and face. She tossed it into a plastic bag with the diaper and grabbed another wipe. This time she raked it over her hands until he figured she’d scrape the skin clean off.
Without thinking, he covered her hands to stop the motion. She jerked and tried to yank her hands free, but he overpowered her easily. “Stop.”
When he looked in her face and saw the panic behind those awful glasses, he found he didn’t like it a bit. But it might just keep them alive.
He waited until she stopped struggling before he let her go. “Get some sleep. We’ll head north in the morning.”
Yeah, right, Regina thought. They had some madman with a gun after them, and the frightening hunk beside her wanted her to sleep. She stifled a yawn. It must be after four in the morning. She figured he was waiting for daylight when there were more cars on the road and they could get away easier. Thankfully, he hadn’t rented a flashy car. The olive green Toyota faded into the background. Her stomach lurched. Had he planned that, too?
Senhor Brooks had questions. Well, she had her own. And as soon as they lost this lunatic, she would get answers.
Her stomach rumbled, but she put it out of her mind. It wasn’t the first time she’d gone without food. The important thing was Eduardo’s safety.
She cuddled him close, breathing in that sweet baby smell, her heartbeat finally slowing. “Help me keep him safe, Father,” she murmured, her eyes drifting closed.
When something warm and hard closed over her mouth some time later, Regina woke with a lunge, a scream forming in her throat.
“Easy, lady, it’s just me,” Brooks breathed into her ear.
His deep voice sent a shiver down her back.
“If you promise not to scream, I’ll take my hand away.”
He took her nod for assent and removed his hand before starting the car. “We need to get out of here.”
She saw the open map in his lap and realized that while she’d been sleeping, he’d been plotting their escape.
Brooks snaked down the levels of the car park and finally came to the cashier. “Tell him you missed your friend last night and ask him if he’s seen a brown Fiat come this way.”
Her back stiffened at his dictatorial tone, but she couldn’t fault his idea. She leaned forward and spoke to the attendant, a skinny young man with greasy hair. Hearing his response, she sent the boy a dazzling smile. “Obrigada.” Her smile vanished as she turned back to Brooks. “He says he hasn’t seen the car.”
They nosed out into the street, and she noticed Brooks had donned aviator sunglasses. She swallowed. He had looked forbidding before, but he looked flat-out dangerous now. She knew he’d joined the military some years back, but never had that been more obvious. Could she trust him?
Without hesitation, he threaded them back through several streets they’d traveled last night, and then wove off and on the highway several more times. Though she couldn’t tell behind the glasses, she knew he divided his attention between the road ahead and the traffic increasing behind them.
After about an hour, he pulled into a small service station. Before she got her hand on the handle he’d put his arm out to stop her. She jumped and spun to face him, almost colliding with his nose. Seeing her face reflected back at her in his sunglasses unsettled her further. “Let me get out first.”
Heart thumping, she gathered up a smiling Eduardo and retrieved a diaper and some formula mix.
He thrust a wad of bills into her hand. “Get whatever supplies you need for the kid. We need to be back on the road within ten minutes.”
If her hands hadn’t been full of baby and baby supplies, she’d have snapped the general a salute. And if she hadn’t needed to use the facilities so badly, she’d have stayed in the car just to defy him. She could hear Irene saying, choose your battles carefully. Some things just weren’t worth fighting over.
When she and Eduardo came back out with—according to her trusty Timex—three minutes to spare, she found Brooks leaning against the side of the car, arms crossed over his chest, booted feet crossed at the ankles. To anyone else, he would look like he hadn’t a care in the world, but she could see the impatience radiating off him in waves.
She followed his gaze and realized that from this vantage point, he had a clear view of all the entrances to the building as well as the service road to the station itself.
Before she could get into the passenger side, he put his hand on her arm. She tried to shake him off, but he held on and all but shoved her into the vehicle.
“Get behind the wheel. If
you see the Fiat, hightail it out of here.”
She hopped back out so fast Eduardo squeaked a protest. She leaned in close and poked his chest with her finger. “Just a minute here. Where do you think you’re going? You’re not just leaving us here!”
He towered over her and put his face just inches from hers. “Lady, I can answer nature’s call here, or I can do it at the side of the road. Your choice.”
She clicked her jaw shut and got back in the car, smoothing her skirt before settling Eduardo on her lap. “Well, be quick about it, then.”
He snapped her the same saucy salute she’d have liked to give him before, which only made her angrier. The man was insufferable. He was rude. He was arrogant.
And he made her nervous. She didn’t like that one bit.
On pain of death, she’d never admit her relief when he returned moments later and helped her change places. Her equilibrium took another dangerous dive when he leaned over to tuck in her skirt, then brushed a hand over Eduardo’s dark curls.
As they headed north, the terrain changed. The smog and smell and traffic of Porto Alegre gave way to rolling hills dotted with cattle and goats. With every kilometer, the tight band wrapped around Regina’s heart seemed to loosen a bit and breathing became easier.
Except when she looked over at Brooks. Then her heart did a funny little flip she didn’t like at all. It made her feel all jittery inside, as though she’d driven too fast over a dip in the road and the car went airborne.
“Did you get him some more formula?”
When she merely nodded, he dropped a bag on the console between them. “Snacks. Help yourself.”
Regina studied him out of the corner of her eye. Orders she’d come to expect from him. But kindness, no. She didn’t know what to make of it. “Obrigada,” she said, and bit into some crackers.
By mid-morning they reached the quaint tourist town of Gramado. Regina squinted, trying to see it through the eyes of a stranger. Narrow winding streets with tidy buildings made to look like Alpine chalets, flower boxes in every window. It had long been one of the most popular places in the state of Rio Grande do Sul, especially in the spring when the azaleas were in bloom. They passed Lago Negro with its paddleboat rentals and footpath that wound around the edge of the lake.