Protecting Arizona (Special Forces: Operation Alpha)
Page 3
“That’s very nice for you, but is there a point to that?”
“Yes, idiot, if you’d let me get to it.” Pause. “Anyway, one of the agents I met, Arizona Hunt, was in the small group that sat through an extra session and also went out afterward for dinner. I gave everyone my phone number and told them it was fine to call me with any questions. I sure didn’t expect the one she called me with.”
Razor frowned. “What do you mean?”
“The Tampa DEA office is getting ready to drop on a major distributor for several cartels, Luca Vasquez, who lives in Tampa. You aren’t going to believe it when I tell you Arizona’s sister is married to the dirtbag.”
Razor’s eyebrows lifted. “And she’s still with the DEA?”
“It’s not uncommon, believe it or not. The agency knows about it and they also know her sister has never told Vasquez about the relationship.”
Razor smiled at the waitress who set his breakfast in front of him.
“Is there a point to this? I don’t mean to be rude, but my breakfast just arrived.”
“If you say yes to what I’m about to ask, you’d better eat it real fast. Arizona’s sister finally left Vasquez today and took their little girl with them, a four-year-old named Ruby. Florida, the sister, called from a motel and asked Arizona to come there and get her. But when the agent got there Florida was dead, shot, and Ruby is missing.”
“Vasquez has her,” Razor guessed.
“She’s positive. Her boss pulled her from the team and told her to take care of family business, but they can’t help her with this. She’s pretty much on her own.”
Razor wanted to tell Tex to mind his own business and disconnect the call. The last thing he needed was some female who would either be a problem or a situation that would take more time and effort than he wanted to put into anything. But then his inner self stuck a pin in him and reminded him that SEALs were dedicated to helping people in dangerous situations. With mottos like “All in, all the time,” “Be someone special,” and the famous “The only easy day was yesterday,” how could he possibly say no? He supposed the least he could do was find out where the woman was and go talk to her.
“You just had to do it to me, didn’t you,” he told his friend.
“I make it my job to keep you busy. Okay, let me give you her name. How far are you from Tampa, Florida at the moment?”
“Coincidentally about an hour away. My plan is to head for the Keys and see if I can bake my brain in the hot sun for a while. There’s a great place in Key West called Sunset Point where the Gulf of Mexico meets the Atlantic Ocean. Hear the sunsets are great and the drinks are unbelievable. Just what I need.”
“That’s damn convenient.”
“Because?”
“Tampa is where Arizona is. Think you could put baking your brain on hold for a bit?”
Razor swallowed a sigh. He wasn’t sure how good he’d be to anyone right now, but he hated to say no to Tex. Or walk away if someone needed him, burnt out as he might be.
“Sure. Where do I meet this woman?.”
“Hold on. Let me check..” Silence hummed while Tex did his thing. “Okay. You still riding that overgrown bicycle?”
Razor snorted. “My Ducati’s a beast that will get me anywhere, anytime, anyhow. I can be in Tampa in less than three hours.”
“Good. Take I 75 into Tampa. I’m going to text you her phone number and the exit to use from the interstate. When you get off, find a spot to light and call her. She’ll tell you where to meet her.”
“I can’t go to her house?”
“It may interest you to know,” Tex drawled, “that even though I highly recommend you, she’s not going to give up her address until she checks you out for herself.”
Smart, Razor thought.
“Fine. Send me the info, and I’ll get on the road.”
“And, Razor? Don’t dally There’s a kid’s life at stake here.”
Of all the things he hated, danger to kids topped the list. He would cheerfully disembowel anyone who thought it was okay to harm kids. He practically inhaled his breakfast, paid his bill, and less than two minutes after that he was on the highway headed for the interstate. He made excellent time, maneuvering his beast through the traffic on the highway. No accidents. No road repairs. Nothing to hold him up.
The lines of vehicles got thicker as he got closer to Tampa and the late afternoon traffic began to clog the interstate. At last he reached the exit Tex had told him to take and found his way to the parking lot of a decent-size mall. Apparently Arizona Hunt wanted plenty of people around her when they met. Did she really think Tex would send her someone untrustworthy?
There was a large parking structure, but he opted for a space in the open at a corner of the lot, turned off his bike, and pulled out his phone. Barely seconds elapsed between the time he dialed the number Tex had given him and someone answered.
“Yes?”
Razor frowned. The voice sounded vaguely familiar, and he couldn’t figure out why.
“This is Razor. Tex sent me.” Damn! He sounded like a B movie.
“Where are you?”
“Right where Tex told me to be.” He described exactly where he was parked.
“I’m sure I won’t have trouble finding a Ducati in that lot. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. I’m driving a black two-door. See you then.”
And just like that, she hung up.
Okay, so no niceties. That was fine with him. He’d long since passed the need for them.
Razor leaned against the bike, arms crossed, people watching while he waited for her. She must have driven like a bat out of hell because barely ten minutes had passed before a black two-door swooped around the end of a row of cars and stopped in a luckily empty parking spot. The door opened, and the driver stepped out. Medium height, toned body, rich auburn hair pulled back in a ponytail. Amazing breasts. Just enough to properly worship.
And all Razor could think was, Holy fucking shit!
* * *
Arizona stared at the tall, muscular man, midnight black hair framing his face, square jaw with a scruff beard, and her breath caught in her throat. Was it really him? What in the actual hell was going on here? How had he found her? What did he want? Her face heated as she remembered those unrestrained hours in the motel room and the very erotic things they’d shared. Things she’d done with a man she never expected to see again.
Was this who Tex had sent?
Breathe, Arizona. Take a very deep breath and clear all that out of your mind. You can handle this.
She swallowed, hard, and finally managed to speak.
“How did you find me?”
“How did I find you? Give me a damn break. I could ask you the same thing. I’m here to meet someone named Arizona Hunt.”
She felt as if all the blood drained from her face. “You’re Clint DaCosta? Razor? Tex’s friend?”
His lips—the ones that had done wonderful things to her body and felt so good on her mouth—curved in a half-grin.
“At your service. And people know me better as Razor.”
Now, what was she supposed to do? Time was already passing too fast. By now the police would be on the case, and who the hell knew what was happening? She needed him desperately, and Tex did say he was the best of the best.
“Does Tex know about…” She waved a hand back and forth, pointing to him then to herself.
“Are you kidding me?” A disgusted look swept across his face. “Give me a break. I didn’t even know who I was meeting.”
“Okay, okay.” She chewed her lip. “You’d better be what Tex said you were because my niece’s life is at stake. Did Tex tell you what the situation is?”
“You don’t think I’d take it blind, do you? If you want to find your niece, we shouldn’t be wasting valuable time jawing here in the parking lot. We need to get someplace much more private so you can tell me all the details.”
She knew he was right. She’d just have to deal with al
l the conflicted feelings swirling around inside him.
“Put my address in your phone. It might look weird if you follow me. I don’t know what Vasquez knows anymore, and right now I don’t want to take any chances. And give me your phone number, too. Just in case.”
He rattled it off to her. She punched it in and seconds later his phone rang.
“Okay,” he told her. “All set.”
“You got GPS in that thing?”
“Wouldn’t leave home without it.”
“Then let’s get the hell out of here before someone decides we look like the couple of the day and starts taking pictures.”
As she drove to her Craftsman bungalow, fighting with what was now almost five o’clock traffic, she tried to figure out how this had even happened. She was a person who always had to be in control. It was how she did her job, especially when she was undercover. That was why having sex with a nameless person allowed her to pack away all her inhibitions and do things she would never do with someone she knew. Never expose who she really was inside herself like that. Was that all about to be blown apart?
Don’t think like that. Focus on Ruby.
She’d partner with the devil himself to find and rescue her niece.
Razor had reached her house before her, which she’d expected. His bike was parked at the side of the driveway, and he was leaning against it, arms folded against his chest. She couldn’t help looking at that well-muscled body and remembering how it felt next to hers. And the long fingers that played her body like a violin, coaxing responses out of it she’d never thought possible. The black hair that was like silk against her skin.
What the hell?
She needed to get control of herself. She’d always been able to manage sex, compartmentalize it. It was like a good shot of bourbon after a tough takedown, or the sharp taste of gin when she’d had to numb herself from some of the things she’d seen. But it was always once and done. She didn’t do relationships, and she certainly didn’t think about it afterward except as a faint and pleasant memory.
You can’t shut yourself off from feelings like that.
She heard the voice of her sister in her head, snapping at her because she, Arizona, didn’t believe in hedonistic passion or relationships. She wanted to tell her that after being raised by a mother whose second husband was more irresponsible than the first, all with a do-what-you-want attitude, she’d developed a hard outer shell, and it served her well. So what had happened to it where this man was concerned? And how was she going to rescue her niece with his help if she couldn’t lock away her hormones?
I can do it. I’m a tough DEA agent. People tell me that all the time.
She punched the button for the garage and paused beside Razor long enough to tell him to bring the motorcycle inside. She watched him take a canvas bag from the storage space on his motorcycle and bring it into the house with him.
He certainly travels light.
In the kitchen, she tossed her keys into a basket on the counter and gave a swift glance around. Despite the fact that she didn’t consider herself domestic in any sense of the word, she had put a lot of attention and love into the house. It was the first one she had ever owned, and she thought of it as her sanctuary. Just because her job took her away from it a lot didn’t mean she didn’t want something special to come home to. She’d tried the apartment route for a long time, but she really liked her privacy, and the Craftsman design appealed to her.
Sunshine poured in through the big picture window in the living room, reflecting off the polished pine flooring. The furniture had been selected for a homey, comfortable look, probably because it was the opposite of what she’d grown up with. The colors she’d chosen for the furniture were soft yellows and oranges and russet. This was her hideaway, the place to rejuvenate, to recharge herself.
What did Razor think of the place? Was he used to more? Less? Somehow she had the feeling he didn’t even have a home, only moved from place to place, but that could just be the attitude he projected.
What the hell does it matter, anyway, she chided herself. This wasn’t a social arrangement. It was a matter of life and death, so she’d damn well better not lose her focus. But one thing she had to get straight before they went any further.
“Um, there are three bedrooms here. I have the biggest one, but you can use either of the other two. The beds are comfortable in both of them.”
He nodded, and she would have thought him devoid of emotion until she saw the heat and hunger in his eyes. But then in the next second it was gone. Had she imagined it?
Forget it. Ruby is your priority, not sex.
“Either one will do. I don’t sleep much, anyway.”
So, it was all business for him. Good. That was just the way she wanted it.
“Fine. Suit yourself. Just pick one, and you can drop your bag there. I’m going to fix a cup of coffee. Would you like one?”
He nodded. “Please. Then we need to get down to business.”
She couldn’t have said it better herself.
Chapter 3
It took only seconds for Arizona to fill two mugs from the single-serving coffee machine. By the time she was finished, Razor was back in the kitchen. He took one of the mugs from her and turned toward the table. That’s when she noticed what looked like the outline of a gun at the small of his back. An outline that looked familiar to her.
“This is stupid considering who you are and all, but it’s just my need to cross t’s and dot i’s. You have a concealed carry permit for that thing, right?”
“I do. It’s registered in Montana, and that’s one of the states Florida has reciprocity with.” He turned to her, his face set in stone.” Just so you know, I never leave home without this.”
“Is that a Glock 19?”
He cocked an eyebrow. “You can tell just from the outline?”
She nodded. “I carry the same thing.” She grabbed her purse from the counter, opened it, and took out her weapon.
A tiny grin played on his lips. “We could be the deadly duo.”
“I hope so. Anything, if it will get me to Ruby.” She put the gun back in her purse.
When they were seated at the table, she saw him take one sip of his coffee then focus his gaze on her. For a moment, she had the feeling he could see right inside her. God, she hoped not. Like she’d told him, she was the badass DEA agent. No way could she let him know that since she’d found Florida’s body she’d been like jelly inside.
“Okay. Let’s have it. Details, please.”
Now he was definitely all business. Good. That was what she needed. Her niece was the most important thing right now. She could get her shit together, and she could definitely just park her damn hormones in the freezer until Ruby was safe with her.
“How much did Tex tell you?” she asked. She hadn’t given her friend all the background, just the important facts, and she hoped he’d passed them on to Razor.
“That your sister had married a scumbag drug dealer. That you’d tried forever to get her away from him. That she had a little girl and finally decided to leave. Called you from a motel. When you got there, you found her body, and your niece was missing. Did I get the high points?”
“Yes. That’s the bare bones. I have to find Ruby.” She brushed a stray hair back from her forehead. “I’m sure Vasquez has either hidden her away someplace or has her surrounded by an army of his thugs. So where do we start?”
“To start with, I need to know how your sister got hooked up with a scumbag like I assume Vasquez is and ended up dead. Tell me everything. All that you know. And don’t leave out even the smallest detail.”
“I’ve been a DEA agent for six years,” she snapped. “I know how to make a report.” She stopped and took a deep breath. She shouldn’t piss him off, not when she needed his help so badly. “Sorry. I’m just on edge right now and desperate about my niece.”
“I understand. Make no mistake about that. I’m just saying, the more I know the better I can
help.”
“I know. I know. Of course.” She swallowed. ”So. First of all, we had a very erratic life growing up. My father was killed in a car accident when I was ten, and my mother remarried when the ink on the death certificate was barely dry. My stepfather—and that kind of glorifies what he was—turned out to be just as flaky as my father. My mother had a knack for picking men who wanted to party through life, earning just enough money so we didn’t live on the streets.”
She watched Razor to see what his reaction was, but he just dipped his head in acknowledgement.
“Anyway,” she went on, “we’d been living in Arizona, but husband number two—I never could quite call him my stepfather—said he had “connections” in Florida so we picked up stakes and hauled ass across the country. I guess you’ve figured out my sister and I are both named for the states where we were born. When our parents were killed in a car accident, the two of us just stayed her. We already had our lives, different though they were.”
“You certainly went in different directions,” Razor commented.
“No kidding. Florida had always been a little flighty, a lot like our mother. She used to say I got the brains and Florida got the looks.”
Even now, it still pinched a little to remember that.
Razor looked at her with his penetrating stare and…was that something else circling in his eyes? “No kidding? I have to say either your mother never took a good look at you or she was blind, but go on.”
“Florida is…was…beautiful. Long blonde hair, emerald-green eyes, dimples and a figure most women would kill for.”
“Doesn’t that depend on who’s looking?” Razor asked.
His eyes raked over her, sending a flash of heat through her body. She took a deliberate sip of her coffee, ignoring the fact it was lukewarm. She just needed something to cool down her hormones. She seemed to have no control of them when this man was around.
“The last two years my sister was in high school, she was always involved with one boy or another. She ran with a crowd of girls who thought partying was mandatory. I was out of school by then, had a job, and was taking college classes online. I had a job, not much, but it paid for my dinky apartment and allowed me to keep an eye on Florida.” She sighed. “Not that it did much good.”