by Zoe Dawson
He stepped to the kitchen door and pushed the swinging door open just a tad. He gave her a signal that she should follow.
When she pushed through the door, she discovered the man she had spoken to propped up against the wall. He stared at them.
Gut shot. The trail of blood was his as he’d dragged himself back here.
“You.”
She walked over to him and crouched down. “What happened?”
“They don’t like loose ends. They left that guy out there to take care of me when I wasn’t useful anymore. Got the drop on him with a gun I keep for emergencies under the counter. Even when you help them there’s no guarantee you’ll live.”
She nodded. “I’m here for information. I think you know what I need. What I’m looking for. Because you were Daniel’s contact. Weren’t you?”
“How do you know this?”
“Daniel’s contact sent us to you. I deduced you had to be him and was using this opportunity to make sure we were legit.”
“It’s true. I had to be cautious and make sure this wasn’t a setup, but they got to my assistant in the bakery. He was one of them.”
“The dead body out there.”
“Those bastards killed my youngest son, shot in the street, so I was more than willing to help the DEA take them down. But then they took my oldest son for collateral, to insure I wouldn’t warn you. Even so, they killed him…” he sobbed softly, his face contorted in pain. “Let me hear as he pleaded for his life. They are a blight on our country.”
“Then help me now so Daniel’s death will have meaning, so your sons’ deaths will have meaning. The DEA won’t give up. Especially now that the Las Espadas have killed Daniel.”
He nodded. “I’m sorry about Daniel. He was a good man. It doesn’t matter what happens to me now. The name you want is Dr. Miguel Costa.” The arms dealer coughed. “He has a clinic just on the outskirts of town. You can find him there.” He rattled off an address. “Take what you need from my shop.” He recited the code. “You must hurry. It’s possible my assistant has already passed this information onto the cartel or someone else. They are offering money for information. Like I said.” His voice went weaker. “They have eyes and ears everywhere. They are ruthless…my boys…” He closed his eyes, his voice anguished. “My boys…hurry…”
That was all he said as he suddenly stopped talking on a long exhale, and the life drained out of him as he slumped over. Kinley reached out and closed his eyes.
Together they turned away and Kinley led the way over to a rack. She reached behind a metal support and switched a button. The panel slid open and Kinley typed in the code he’d given her.
The whole wall moved aside and inside was an arsenal.
“Hoo-freaking-yah,” Beau murmured enthusiastically, and Kinley turned to look at him. She huffed a short laugh and walked to a large green zippered bag.
Beau wasted no time in grabbing a submachine gun, another handgun and plenty of ammo, along with other gear. Kinley went with her tried-and-true SIG along with enough ammo. They loaded up the bag and left.
Once they were back in the car, she input the address and then checked the weather. It was habit. She’d often done it before a tour at sea. “Oh, hell. There’s weather coming our way,” she said. “A tropical depression. Not a hurricane, luckily, though this is the season. It could get really wet.”
Before they left the shop, Beau called in an anonymous tip regarding the shopkeeper. His death was something else Kinley could use to keep her going on this mission.
Fifteen minutes outside the city, the rain hit, and it was epic. Torrential, wind blowing, and gusting. It slowed them down to a crawl.
Beau had taken over the driving and she looked out at the smeared and indistinct landscape. The windshield wipers made a slapping sound as they crisscrossed, wicking away the moisture.
She looked over at him. “You said you were from Louisiana, right?”
His eyes lit up at the mention of his home. He nodded and smiled. “I’m used to driving in this kind of rain. We get quite a bit of it.”
“Where exactly in Louisiana?” She reached out and absently rubbed her fingers along his forearm. He captured her hand and held it.
“I’m from Vermilion Parish in the heart of L’Acadiane or, in English, Acadiana. My family lives in Delcambre, a small town right on the bayou. It’s the home of much of the local fishing industry.”
“The bayou. What’s that like living near so much water?”
“There is no place like it anywhere. Lush ferns growing near purple iris beneath hardwood trees dripping with moss and some of the largest willows you’ll ever see. Some brighter flowers like black-eyed Susans and daisies. It’s a rich environment to grow up in. Some of the trees in the bayou are ancient. At night the swamp can be misty and dark, the water shining like black glass under a pale moon.”
She shivered a bit. “Alligators, right?”
“Ah, me gators. The bayou can be beautiful, but it can also be dangerous.”
“You said you have a large family.”
“Yes, four brothers and a sister.”
“There are four men as handsome as you running around?”
He smiled. “Yeah, we are similar. One of my brothers is a fisherman, one lives in New York City working on Wall Street, one is a firefighter and the last one is in the Marines.”
“And the sister?”
“She’s in her freshmen year at Tulane. She’s into chemistry.”
“You must miss them very much.”
His eyes got that faraway look people had when they were thinking about the past. “Miss them like hell. We were very close growing up, but I’ve been away from Delcambre for ten years. I go home as often as possible, but my tours were extensive and now that I’m based in DC for my job, I see my family mostly during holidays.”
They fell silent as the GPS tracker gave instructions for a turn and Beau navigated the slippery road and the heavy rain.
“How about you, sugar? Where you from?”
“All over. I traveled with my father to all his billets. I lived mostly in Coronado because that’s where my father was stationed. When he became a diplomat, it was London…and…well, after he was murdered, I went to an aunt’s back in Coronado, then to a cousin’s in San Francisco, another aunt’s in Monterey. The cliffs there are quite magnificent, the ocean so turbulent.”
“Why were you tossed around so much?”
“I was in demand until they realized that my inheritance from my dad was protected. Then they lost interest in supporting me. It was all in trust and I couldn’t touch it until I was eighteen. It was a help when I was in school and for living expenses. My family wasn’t as close as yours. When my father wasn’t deployed, he was training. When he wasn’t training, he was on base.”
“Your mère?”
“Does that mean mother?”
“Yes, sorry, mother.”
“She died when I was one. My father didn’t remarry. He had girlfriends who I stayed with and caregivers, but when he could, he took me with him. After he left the SEALs, he was always there for me.”
“That’s a tough life, huh?”
“No, not really. I didn’t really experience that. My dad was great and all I needed. I was sheltered and protected.”
“Why the Coast Guard?”
“I think it stemmed from my time in Monterey. I fell in love with the changing face of the sea. Because of what happened to my father, I knew I always wanted to do some kind of police work and protecting our coasts appealed to me.”
“CGIS was always your goal, then?”
“Yes, I want to have my own team someday. If I can stop screwing up and getting myself tied up with seductive bastards who happen to be agents.”
She hadn’t meant for that comment to come out so harshly. It could be a result of all that had happened with Daniel, but Beau didn’t deserve that. “I’m sorry, that was…”
“Honest.”
“I was
half of that equation with both you and Daniel and I had a choice with both of you, so I can’t really complain. It’s just that with our kind of lifestyle, it’s really difficult to meet people and have a normal life. Mostly I meet guys on the job because I’m so often on the job. When I’m home, it’s downtime for me.”
“Kinley, I understand fully.”
“Then what’s up with the one-night stands?”
He didn’t immediately answer. She was under no illusion that Beau had any long-term plans for them. This was a moment out of time. They’d been thrown together and they had an amazing connection. She tried really hard to not fool herself. When the mission was over, she expected they would be, too.
That brought definite regret. But Beau had made things clear from the start and just because she was falling for him, that didn’t change a thing.
She realized he’d tensed up and she didn’t know how much she wanted him to confide in her until he spoke.
“I got…burned pretty bad and now I’m a jaded jerk.”
“What happened?”
“Jennifer was ambitious and always gung-ho about her job. She wanted to make admiral and that is a tough career path. I guess I thought she was willing to make room for me in her life. We had a lot of arguments about spending time together, mostly on my side. She suggested I go for SEAL training. I should have realized then that it was a way to put distance between us. I took the SEAL route and our correspondence waned, mostly because there isn’t a lot of downtime in BUD/S. She didn’t show up for my graduation and didn’t return my messages. When I got home, she was gone…everything was gone. I was going to propose to her…”
Kinley’s chest filled and she squeezed his hand in sympathy. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected him to say, but that caught her off guard. It would have been easier to hear that he was one-dimensional and a womanizer than it was to find out he’d had his heart broken.
“I hate this woman already,” she murmured. And she did. How could she have hurt Beau like that? He was… Kinley had to get a grip, especially now.
“I don’t use women. I just enjoy their company and then move on.”
Well, he couldn’t say it plainer than that, even though it hurt. She was a big girl and had known what… Okay, she hadn’t known exactly how amazing it would be with him, but she’d known his boundaries. She respected them and really, it couldn’t be better that he felt that way. It made it easier on her.
So why was her heart aching so hard?
There was no more time to worry about their personal relationship. The GPS tracker squawked and let them know they’d reached their destination.
The clinic was an oblong structure and Kinley realized that it was more of a health clinic than a place where people came for plastic surgery.
Beau parked the car.
“Kinley…” he said.
She loved the way he said her name, with that slight accent making it sound incredibly exotic. There was way too much she loved about Beau.
“I get it, Beau. Don’t worry about me. I understand and you were quite clear. Temporary. I’ve got my career to focus on. That’s really what matters to me.” She didn’t want to examine her feelings for Beau anymore.
Whatever he’d been about to say died on his lips. With a stiff nod, he opened his door and slipped out of the coupe. There, that should allay his fears about her wanting anything…even if she did. But that was stupid fairytale stuff.
Her shoulders drooped a bit, and she took a deep steadying breath. It was time to get this information from the good doctor and get the hell of out of Cuba.
Inside, the clinic was clean, neat and well maintained. The woman behind the reception desk looked up as they walked in. “¿En què puedo servirles?” She was very pretty with long, dark hair and wide, chocolate-brown eyes.
Beau smiled and approached the desk, introducing himself and including her. She smiled and said something in Spanish. Beau nodded. “We’d like to see him now. It’s very important.”
The woman picked up the phone and spoke, then hung up and motioned for them to follow her. They trailed her past the waiting area. The people in the waiting room were an odd mix. Some well-dressed, others shabby. Clean, but it was clear they were quite poor. She disappeared through a door that opened up to a hallway with examination rooms on either side. When she got to the end of the hall, to a closed door, she knocked before opening it and ushered them inside.
Dr. Costa rose from behind his desk. He was a compact man, balding with a fringe of salt and pepper hair cut close to his scalp. He wore a white lab coat, and a stethoscope was draped around his neck.
“Mr. and Mrs. Nadeau?” he said in beautifully accented English. “Welcome. Please be seated.”
“This isn’t exactly the kind of establishment I was expecting. But, at least it’s clean,” Kinley said, still playing her role.
“Sweetheart,” Beau said in an indulgent way.
“My clinic serves many, Mrs. Nadeau, and I am a certified doctor as well as quite skilled with cosmetic surgery. What can I do to help you?” His pleasant smile didn’t waver even in the wake of her rudeness.
“I want some work done.”
Dr. Costa studied her for a moment, and then sighed. “Are you certain, senora?” He came out from behind the desk and faced her. “May I?” he asked. She nodded.
He tipped up her chin and turned it both right and left, studying all the planes and angles. Then he released her.
“I cannot augment what is already quite perfect. You have the bone structure of a goddess and an uncommon beauty. I wouldn’t touch your face no matter how much you paid me. I simply cannot help you.”
“What?” she asked, looking at Beau and laughing softly. “Goddess?” This isn’t what she’d expected of a greedy man who took black-market jobs for the money. But nothing was ever as it seemed and ruthless men always found ways to get others to do what they wanted.
“Actually, Doctor, I have to agree with you,” Beau said, steel replacing the bored-CEO look in his eyes. “Since you can’t help with my wife’s plastic surgery, perhaps there is something else you could help us with?”
He looked puzzled for a moment, going back behind his desk and sitting down. “What would that be, senor?”
“Diego Montoya.”
Dr. Costa stiffened and sat forward. “I don’t know anyone by that name.”
The fear in his voice underlined the lie.
“Who are you people?”
“We’re people looking for photographs of Montoya. The before-and-after, if you get my drift.”
“Americans. CIA?”
He reached for the phone, but Beau pressed down on the receiver before he could lift it.
“We can do this easy, Dr. Costa, or we can do this hard. Me, I like easy.”
He sat back, torn and terrified. “Who did he threaten in your family, Miguel?” Kinley asked, going with her gut.
He looked at her sharply and rubbed his hand over his bald pate.
“That…monster, that…criminal, threatened my beloved Maria. My wife. I had to do what he asked. But I destroyed all evidence of it just as he ordered. I’m sorry, but I cannot help you. I would ask that you leave my clinic and not return.”
She planted her hands on his desk and leaned forward. “I know what it’s like to lose someone to a terrorist. I don’t buy it. You kept insurance.”
His lips thinned.
“He’s a threat to the United States. He’s murdered innocent people. As a doctor, how can you let that sit on your conscience while he’s free to perpetuate even more heinous acts on even more innocent people? Husbands, wives, children?”
Dr. Costa rose and went to the window, obviously torn. “I hate these men who make my country into a…a conduit for drugs, a place that shelters murderers and cutthroats. Men with money who think they are above the law.” He rubbed at his forehead, his voice thick. “He came to me because I am the best. He threatened me when I refused, and when I still refused,
he threatened her. I hate that he made me use my skills to mask him. To protect him from the law and the cartel who’s hunting him like the dog he is.”
“Dr. Costa. We need your help.”
He turned back to them. “I can’t risk her. She is everything to me.”
“If you give us the means by which to capture him, he will no longer be a threat to you or your wife.”
That made him pause. It was apparent that apprehending Diego Montoya appealed to him very much. Dr. Costa was no black marketer for hire. That was evident. “You are not only a very beautiful woman, but a very persuasive one. I must think about this and consult with my wife. That is the only answer I can give you at this moment. Come back at closing and I’ll give you my answer.”
“Dr. Costa…”
“Beau.” She put her hand on his arm and he shifted his gaze to hers. After a moment, he stepped toward the door. “At closing then. I know you will do the right thing.”
Outside Beau snagged her arm. “That was a nice bit of tap dancing in there, but I hope you know what you’re doing. We’re on a timeline here and if he decides to say no, we’re going to have to push and he knows it. He could run.”
“He won’t run.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because this is his home and he’s dedicated his life to helping these people. He’s nothing like we thought. Did you see the patients in that waiting room? They’re local and they’re poor. I’m banking that he’s a good man caught in a bad situation. He’ll do the right thing, Beau. Trust me.”
It started to rain as they got back into the Mercedes. Beau pulled his handgun from the small of his back, checked his clip and slammed it home, chambering a round and re-holstering the weapon. “I’m going to watch the back. You stay here and keep an eye on the front. Call me if you see anything suspicious.”
She grabbed his arm before he exited the vehicle. “Thank you.”
“What for?” he growled, obviously frustrated that they had to wait around.
“Trusting me.”
He flashed her a wry grin. “I just want to do this the easy way.”
He slipped out of the vehicle and headed into the thick, dense growth of the jungle butting up to the rear of Costa’s clinic.