by Desiree Holt
“Mmm. Sounds wonderful.”
“Okay. Take one of your quickie naps and I’ll be right back.”
Kenzi did as he suggested, lying there, enjoying the feeling of being well and truly fucked and trying to push everything out of her mind. She was halfway between wakefulness and sleep when Trey came back into the room.
“Dinner will be here in thirty. Meanwhile, come on and get up. I’m pouring drinks. After what Slade told me I think we’ll both need them.”
Chapter Sixteen
Mierda! Hijo di puta! La madre que to pario!
Damn it all to hell, anyway.
Alex Reyes slammed his cell phone down on his desk. Things were unraveling so fast. How the hell had this happened? He’d planned carefully, covered all the details, made sure to cross every T and dot every I. That was his trademark, his and Antonio’s. Always had been. And now, because of some stupid bitch of a reporter and an unknown traitor, decades of careful planning were in danger of coming undone.
The plan itself was excellent. They had worked on it for months, making sure all the necessary components would be in place. Doing the research. Working hard to stay ahead of the bubble. And now, suddenly, it was all falling apart.
He was not a man given to pacing or showing agitation in any way. He had built a solid reputation as a self-contained, uber-wealthy rancher and. businessman, the third generation to hold this position. He took pride in being able to control his environment so that image never shattered. Now, people he didn’t even know, people he should have been able to crush like bugs, were tearing down his structure and destroying his respectability.
He had barely pulled himself together after his meeting with Bruno Cerda and returned home where more disaster had loomed. The phone call he’d just received was the latest in a series of catastrophies that never should have taken place. At his meeting with Reed Calhoun today, they had agreed the urgency of the situation called for them to move forward with filing all the paperwork immediately. Although he and Antonio would still meet on Monday, Reed had faxed everything to him to review so the process could begin tomorrow.
On Monday they would deal with Bruno, another unpleasant matter.
But the telephone call he had just received from one of his paid informants had placed an even greater urgency on the situation. He needed to discuss with Reed the best way to prevent the DEA from raiding their offices and confiscating all files related to him and every one of his businesses, especially the new corporate structure he’d just signed off on. For whatever reason, the DEA was upping their timetable.
Reed had told him he’d be at the courthouse himself taking care of what had to be done today and tomorrow. He needed those new entities in place as quickly as possible. Was it possible that once the new structure was legally in place they would be out of reach of the DEA, or did they run the risk of them shutting everything down? How fast could they move in foreign countries? Didn’t they have to reach out to other agencies to do that? Reed would know. He knew all of that. He’d be able to tell him how to proceed. Only, at the moment, Reed Calhoun was tied up at dinner with another client and, as was his habit, he had his phone shut off.
Then there was the junior attorney who had worked on this project with Reed. How much did Kenzi Bryant actually know about the projects she worked on? Reed would never have told her the real purpose behind this complicated structure, yet Alex’s sixth sense told him there was something going on there. No way could she have discovered anything, but he couldn’t take a chance.
He picked up the half-empty glass of bourbon he’d been drinking and took a healthy swallow.
Careful, Alex. This is no time to get drunk.
If someone didn’t call back shortly with answers to at least one of his problems, he might actually resort to that.
He started at the sound of a knock on the door to his den.
“Yes? Come in.”
The door opened and his wife, Mercedes, entered. He took a moment to enjoy the sight of her. At fifty-five she was as beautiful as the day he’d met her, but richer-looking, more mature. Ebony hair that curled softly around her face showed little grey and her skin was as smooth as the girl he’d married, thanks to the expensive spa she visited regularly. Her work with her personal trainer kept her figure trim and athletic, yet without losing the soft curves he loved so much.
Sometimes he was swept up by the nostalgia of their early days, when he had just moved into his role in all the family businesses, when the sex had been hot, when their life together had been exciting. When the children had come along, she’d stepped into the role of mother as if she’d been born to it. And although she was aware of his cartel activities—her father had been one of his business associates—he was careful to keep everything isolated from la familia. No meetings at the house and Hector did all the dirty work. That was the arrangement and had been throughout their families for generations.
Their marriage had continued to be successful as the years passed. He was not like others in his position who disrespected their wives by taking other sexual partners. He remembered all the special occasions and always had unique gifts for her birthday. The children had grown older and gone off to college. Alicia now worked for a marketing firm, her activities as far from the cartel as it was possible to get. And Sebastian was…was where it had all started to come apart.
At last Mercedes had come to fully understand and accept the situation, and for the most part, things had returned to the way they had been. They could have been any happy, well-to-do couple in the world. Almost. There was still a fine edge to her, a slight distance, but then he wondered if he was just imagining it. Maybe when they got the new structure off the ground, he would take her on a trip to Europe, or a cruise. Something to smooth out the wrinkles and be sure everything between them had returned to the way it should be.
In the meantime, he had taken steps to reassure himself that she had not quietly gone off the rails. If she ever found out… But no, there was no reason for him to check anything on her phone or her car. She trusted him completely, a fact that gave him a twinge now and then. But then he’d remind himself of everything that was at stake—and hope it didn’t blow up in his face along with everything else.
“I am sorry to disturb you,” she said in her soft, musical voice. “I just wanted to remind you that we are meeting the Mannions for dinner in an hour.” She studied him carefully with her deep violet eyes. “Alex, if you need to take care of business, I can call them and reschedule. That won’t be a problem.”
He managed to find a smile for her and felt himself relax just a fraction. If only this could be the tenor of their lives all the time. If only—
“No, it will be fine. I may have to excuse myself to take some calls during the meal, but I will make it quick.”
“You do what you have to.” She studied him for a moment. “Is everything all right? You seem stressed lately.”
Was it that noticeable? If he was going to pull this off, he had to appear as if nothing was wrong.
“No. It’s all good. Just a glitch with a new contract. I’ll be ready to leave on time.”
“Very well. I’ll go and get changed.”
The moment the door closed, his phone rang again. He hoped that this call brought him good news for a change.
“Please tell me you have something positive to tell me,” he said, forgoing any salutation.
“The best I can tell you,” Hector Lopez Garcia told him, “is that we are getting closer. I want to find these people as much as you do, believe me, but locating them is not easy. They are trained to be invisible.”
“I don’t care. We are approaching disaster here. Find them. Find the reporter. And find the fucking traitor.”
“You know the best way to do the last item is to find the reporter and trail her,” Lopez Garcia pointed out.
“That’s supposed to be your specialty, so do it. I have too much to lose here.”
“As do I,” Garcia pointed out.
“And Antonio as well.”
“Then find them, or all this work will have been for nothing.”
He disconnected and barely restrained himself from throwing the phone across the room. Exhaling a settling breath, he punched in the speed dial number for Reed Calhoun. Voicemail again. Of course.
“Call me. We are at a crisis point.”
He finished his drink and carried the glass into the kitchen. Time to shower and change and put on his game face. Paulo Mannion was a powerful figure in the state cattleman’s association, paving the way for certain changes Alex had needed over the years. This was no time to offend anyone or alienate them. Not when he had no idea what the next day would bring.
And that reminded him to call his son later tonight. Another situation he needed to be sure was safely in place.
* * * *
Trey looked around the table at the people assembled—his teammates, plus their women, plus Dana Roberts. Slade had called them the moment he’d hung up from his call with his commanding officer. With Trey’s situation in crisis, none of them wanted to pack their gear and head off to the jungle or the desert or wherever they were being sent this time. Ninety-nine percent of the time, he loved Delta Force and its core mission. This was in the one percent that he didn’t.
The moment Slade had called, he’d cancelled their dinner order, they’d thrown on their clothes and hauled ass to the ranch. Now they sat around Slade’s big dining table eating pizza, absorbing his news and dissecting the situation. Dana sat between Brock and Axel, tension lining her face. No one looked happy. Beside him, Trey could practically feel the tension vibrating from Kenzi’s body as Slade relayed the information from his captain that they’d be reporting in the morning, earlier than expected, for a mission that had come up out of the blue.
“I called the others with the news,” Slade told everyone, “but I didn’t see any need for them to haul ass out here tonight. Better they have one more night with their ladies and be here first thing in the morning. I tried to push things back a couple of days, but the captain said time is of the essence with this one. Orders came down from JSOC, so that’s that.”
Trey couldn’t argue with that, damn it. They all knew no one never argued with JSOC—Joint Special Operations Command, the planning and oversight of certain Special Forces units and their missions.
“They sure couldn’t have picked a worse time.” Trey raked a hand through his hair.
“I don’t think there’s ever a good time,” Kari Donovan pointed out. “If there was, they wouldn’t need you. Right?”
“The thing is,” Slade went on, “We’ve only got a few hours to put the backup plan in place. I called Mike Elliott and he and his agency are on board with this. In fact, he should be here any time now to meet you all and get briefed.”
“I know he’s good and all,” Trey said in a tight voice, “except his guys aren’t us.”
“But they’re the next best thing,” Slade reminded him. He looked at Dana. “Your safety is a high priority here. We don’t want to see you kidnapped again, or worse, lying dead someplace. You get that, right?”
“I do.” Dana nodded. “I’m sorry if I’ve seemed ungrateful. I’m just not used to having so many people crowding my space. And however you handle this, my source can’t know I’ve got an army hanging out, waiting to drag me away.”
“That’s not a problem. These guys are way better than good.”
“I’m surprised he or she wants to meet in broad daylight.” Trey shook his head. “Don’t people like this usually want to do this when it’s dark out and detection isn’t so easy?”
“Apparently whoever it is can only meet during the day.” She shrugged. “The original meet we had set for the evening was apparently an anomaly. I can’t tell you any more than that.”
Slade opened his mouth to say something but stopped when they heard a knock on the front door.
“I’ll get it,” Teo called from the kitchen.
Two minutes later two men were ushered into the room, one tall and muscular, with dark hair and a scruff beard, the other lean with slightly long blond hair. Trey thought they both looked as if they ate nails for breakfast and could take down a roomful of bad guys without breaking a sweat. If these were the men who would be protecting Kenzi and Dana, the tension in his body eased just a hair.
Slade rose from his chair and shook hands with them.
“Thanks for coming.” He turned to everyone at the table. “Meet Mike Elliott, who runs the best damn security agency in twenty-five states.”
The tall, dark-haired man laughed. “Just twenty-five? I must be losing my touch. But thanks. This is Jay Cooper, my senior agent.”
Mike glanced at Slade. “Have you briefed everyone on our creds or do you want me to do that?”
“You’re good. Everyone but Brock and Axel remembers you from the last time you helped us, so we’re all set.”
“Then how about filling in the details for us so we can put some plans together? And when do you leave?”
“Tomorrow morning. Teo will fly us to the base. We have to be there by oh-eight-hundred.”
Trey reached for Kenzi’s hand under the table and gave it a gentle squeeze. She linked her fingers through his and squeezed back. The last thing he wanted to do was leave her right now and, for the first time in his life, he wanted to let a woman know he was there for her. Maybe he could get Mike to convince her, where he couldn’t, that she should take sick leave from the law firm until this all got resolved. They had no idea how involved Reed Calhoun was in Alex Reyes’ cartel business or if he even knew about it. But if the shit was going to hit the fan, he didn’t want her to be in the line of fire.
Teo brought two carafes of coffee to the table and set them on hot pads.
“Holler if you need more,” he told them before making himself scarce.
“Okay.” Mike Elliott hitched his chair forward. “Slade, you gave me a basic outline here, and of course I know all about the fiasco at the hangar and the dead bodyguards in New York. Let’s have the rest of the details.”
It took the better part of a half hour to get all the details out there and give Mike and Jay a complete picture. Slade also passed along all the information from Joe Trainor.
“The DEA is getting ready to drop the hammer on Reyes,” he added. “We need to make sure these two women are protected. Kenzi, I really think you ought to call in sick to your office. Get yourself out of the line of fire. Trust me. you don’t want to be there when it happens.”
“Amen to that.” Trey slid a glance at the woman next to him. “I know you think it might cause some kind of problem, but don’t people at that firm ever take sick days?”
Next to him, Kenzi let out a sigh. “Yes, they do, and I know you’re right. Slade. Did Detective Trainor tell you when this was going to happen?”
“Not the exact day, but the last word I had with him was sometime this week. Maybe in the next couple of days. And you need to be somewhere safe.”
“You need to stay here with your sister.” What Trey really wished for was the ability to lock her down until this was all over. Part of Kenzi’s appeal was her independence and her insistence on not leaning on anyone, but sometimes that could also be a detriment.
“I’ll consider it. But let’s talk about how the meeting tomorrow is going to be handled.”
Mike Elliot cleared his throat. “Dana, you’re meeting this person tomorrow at noon, right?”
Dana nodded. “Yes. I’m surprised it’s not a night meeting again, but I have to go with whatever I’m handed.”
“Okay. Exactly where is this supposed to take place?”
At that moment Dana’s phone buzzed and she looked at the screen.
“Hold on. This is a text from my informant. Well, at least I can be pretty sure now it’s a woman.”
“Why?” The question came from Slade.
“Because of where the meeting is.” Dana nibbled on her bottom lip for a moment. “At a spa in Northwest S
an Antonio. Tomorrow at two o’clock.”
“A spa?” Trey’s eyebrows lifted. “So, this person is a woman? And why didn’t you say so before? It might have helped narrow down who it is.”
“I only knew for sure right now when she texted me the location. Although—and don’t ask me why—I’ve thought so from the beginning. And, of course, a man would not be able to meet me in a spa.”
“Then let’s make our plan.” Mike took out his own cell. “Let me pull up a picture of the place and we’ll figure the best way to do this.”
“I don’t—” She squirmed in her chair. “I’m afraid if I show up with an army, I’ll scare this person off. I hated it when my bosses hired them in New York and I’m not too happy with the situation here. I’m just meeting one person. I’ll get my interview and get the hell out of there.”
“Dana.” Kenzi leaned forward. “Even I know you can’t do this without protection. Please be smart about this.”
“Having bodyguards didn’t help before,” she pointed out. “Maybe if you and your guys hadn’t shown up, the meeting would have happened, and I’d be writing my story. Now.”
“Are you nuts?” Trey exploded. “If we hadn’t shown up there, they’d have hidden you away until it was time for the meeting, taken you there so they could find out who the snitch is and killed both of you. Have you forgotten your real bodyguards were killed? And, by the way, the cartel replacements had identification that looked so authentic it fooled you and others. Your meeting might have happened, but you’d both be dead.”
Beside him, Trey sensed the tension in Kenzi and heard her slightly indrawn breath. He kept his eyes on Dana, knowing that somehow whatever she did was going to involve her sister. Her skin paled and for a moment she said nothing.
“Look.” Kenzi sighed. “I know this is your very big deal and I get how important the meeting is to you. But let’s go back to what triggered all this security. You were kidnapped. Kidnapped, Dana.”
“I hear you,” Dana told her.