Intimate Enemies (9 page)

“Hold on, missy.” Natalie’s voice dropped back into her serious lawyer tone. “First, you owe me another call today. That one, as fun as it was, doesn’t count.”

Cassie clipped out a distracted, “Sure.”

“And two, was any of that true?”

“Everything, unfortunately,” she muttered, irritated and frustrated.

“And three, did you report the accident?”

“I was at the police station when they opened their doors.”

Natalie sighed, clearly relieved.

“And I ate all my Brussels sprouts.”

“Ha-ha.”

“I gotta go,” Cassie said. “I’ll call you later.”

She disconnected, pulled open the battery cover on her phone and removed the battery. Beneath, tucked into a shadowed corner, a tiny listening device clung to the frame. She’d discovered the device when she’d swept her room for bugs the night before, something she’d been doing since Saul had started using the bugs in her teen years. She pried it loose, dropped it into her pocket and reassembled her phone.

Then she dialed Raymond Santiago, an attorney her mother had used exclusively until Saul had insisted she change to someone else as soon as he’d learned of Raymond’s sincere, longtime, and deep fondness for Alejandra. Cassie had secretly wished for so long that her mother would marry Ray. Had secretly wished he could be her father. He was such an amazing man—intelligent, patient, kind, generous—and Cassie was sure she’d never seen a man love her mother more than Raymond had loved Alejandra.

Saul had killed so many dreams. He’d shown up, all high-profile flash. He’d made her mother feel glamorous and beautiful and sexy and young. And he’d used her mother’s needs to manipulate Alejandra right into giving him total control over the estate, their family, and, ultimately, her life. Only years later, after his claws were too deep to remove without substantial damage, and his façade had tarnished and faded did her mother see beneath the pretense and realize just what she’d allowed.

Alejandra had successfully removed some of his talons, but unfortunately not all, before she’d died. Which was yet another thought that floated in the back of Cassie’s mind when she thought about the yacht explosion.

Raymond’s secretary answered on the third ring and immediately transferred Cassie to the attorney.

“Cassie,” he answered the line, his voice deep and robust and warm. “I was just thinking about you.”

“Oh, yeah? Something good, I hope.”

“Actually, not…really. I’ve spent quite a bit of time looking over your mother’s
fideicomiso.
”
A sigh drifted over the line, the sound thick with disappointment. “I truly want the same thing you do,
mija
. You know I adored your mother, and I can’t express how much I despise Saul. And while I could suggest several good investigators to help you get dirt on him, from what I can see in this document, that won’t invalidate Alejandra’s provision for his residency at the estate.”

Cassie’s heart plunged straight to her gut. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth against the immediate sense of defeat.

“I’m not finished combing through it,” Ray offered in her silence. “And there is a slim possibility I could still find something that will work to get him out, but…I don’t want to give you false hope, Cassie.”

She drew air through a tight throat. “I understand.”

“It did occur to me…” Ray started, then paused.

“Yes?”

“Uh, this isn’t particularly…professional of me…”

“Ray…” Cassie tried to push compassion into her voice, but it sounded more like frustration to her own ears, and she hoped Ray didn’t take it that way. “You’re talking to me, here. I’ll take anything that will get him out of the house.
Anything
.”

Still, Ray hesitated. Finally, he said, “The dirt an investigator would dig up might not affect the state of the
fideicomiso,
but if it’s something you can make stick, he could end up in prison.”

For a moment, Cassie’s brows pulled in a frown. Then she got it and, in a classic V8 moment, slapped her palm against her forehead. “I never thought of that. Ray, you’re brilliant!”

“No, just vindictive. It’s not pretty, but there you have it. Human nature’s weakest link. It’s not a permanent solution. If he were to go to prison, he would eventually get out, and the
fideicomiso
would still remain valid. But you would gain time. Laws can change with time. Even mortality status can change with time…especially for an arrogant bastard like Saul in a Mexican prison.”

“Good point. If I don’t have any other options, I’m not above looking into that one.”

“So, we’ll keep our appointment in two hours? I’ll be finished with the document by then, and you and I can sit down and make a game plan.”

Cassie smiled. “You’re on.”

She hung up with at least a sliver of hope. There was a certain cosmic rightness to Saul going to prison.

Beneath the awning of Miguel’s, Cassie sank back into the shadows and waited with complex strands of emotion weaving through her chest. As vengefully fun as it had been to create a little punishment for Rio bugging her phone, the sex talk had also rekindled all the heat they’d shared the night before. More, if she were honest. Which was a strange sensation layered over the frustration at discovering him tailing her and the pain of standing over that empty slip at the marina.

She had managed a semi-coherent conversation with Mario, but the absence of
Endless Pleasures
had been a violent reality check. One she’d thought she’d been prepared for.

She’d been so wrong.

That yacht had held her best, most vivid childhood memories, second only to the estate. Her mind was too swollen with grief to recall any specific event, but the boat had represented love and joy and life—all the wonderful moments shared with Mamà and Santos out on the water.

Each breath brought a stab of pain as if her lungs didn’t have room to expand. She closed her eyes against the building pressure of tears. She couldn’t let them fall. If they started, they’d never stop, the way the dam had broken at the cemetery and she’d clung to Rio.

Cassie wiped her face and cleared her mind. It didn’t matter what she’d hoped to find in Rio. He’d clearly chosen his loyalty to Saul over her last night—not only by his words but by his action of bugging her phone.

What this all meant for Cassie now was that she had to stay cool and maintain the upper hand. Saul’s games were always slippery, but if she remained focused, she would win.

The first thing she needed was control. And the first step in gaining control was drilling into the enemy’s weaknesses and utilizing leverage. Saul had sure as hell taught her that.

She peered around the edge of the building again. Rio was still walking, head down, hands in his pockets. She dropped back beneath the awning’s shade to wait.

She flexed the tension from her hands and readied herself to confront him. By his pace, she could gauge the time it would take him to reach her. Five, four, three… He strode past right on cue. Cassie straightened from the wall, and Rio caught the movement in his peripheral vision. He sidestepped and twisted toward her, moving back at the same time, hands up and defensive.

She was startled by the sheer smoothness of his movements, suspicious over the way he braced his feet wide, knees slightly bent, and remained so intensely still. He was quick, agile, practiced. He was
trained
. He was a goddamned professional. She knew one when she saw one.

But here, professional didn’t mean what it meant in the States—a cop or private investigator or security specialist. Here, professional meant someone who could make things happen, get things done, legally or illegally. Someone who could protect and kill. Which begged the question: why did Saul need someone with these skills? And a follow-up question of: who and what the hell was Rio?

When he recognized her, Rio’s tight posture uncoiled. His hands slid into the front pockets of his jeans. He tried to relax his body into a casual stance, but it wasn’t quite working.

“Cassie,” he said in greeting.

She savored the sound of her name in his voice a moment, then returned a cordial, “Rio.” But she was done with the games. She didn’t have the time or the patience. “What the hell are you doing?”

One dark brow lifted above his sunglasses. He looked up and down the street as if he’d find the answer there. “Uh…walking…to my truck…?”

“You’re not going to follow me the rest of the day?”

His mouth shut. He heaved a breath that rocked his shoulders.

“No denial,” she said. “How refreshing.”

The restaurant door opened behind her. Cassie glanced over her shoulder and found Miguel, the taqueria owner and a classmate from elementary school, grinning.

“I just brewed a fresh pot of tea.” Miguel offered a hand to Rio. The men shook. “Come in and keep Cassie company while we get her order ready.”

“Great idea,” Cassie said to Rio. “We definitely have some issues to straighten out.”

Miguel held the restaurant door open and called toward his sister at the counter, “Maria, two sweet teas.”

Rio took the door from Miguel, who returned to the counter. Once he was out of earshot, Rio said, “Look, I can’t stay. I’ve got a lot to do at the estate—”

“You misunderstood that as a request.” She worked to keep her voice even. She was still embarrassed enough from his rejection last night to pull a nasty attitude, but that would get her nowhere. “This is more important than anything you have to do at the estate. Besides, that is one of the things we need to talk about.”

His lips thinned, and his jaw muscles bunched. Cassie couldn’t help but remember that mouth on hers. The heat, the hunger, and all less than twelve hours ago. Her cravings for more had kept her blood warm and humming all morning.

“Really, Cassie—”

“I guess this would be a good time to point out that while you may think you work for Saul,
I
own the land, the house, and all the financial assets.”

A slow grin lifted his mouth, and, dammit, those dimples appeared again. Little crescent-shaped hollows in both cheeks. Her stomach did that weird, uncomfortable flip.

“Are you trying to say,” he asked, “that in a convoluted way
I
work for
you
?”

“I’m pointing out some facts you may or may not know. You made your alliances crystal clear last night. But, if I were in your position, I’d stick close to that fence. I can promise you, my side is a safer place to hang.”

That comment stifled his killer grin, but she didn’t gain any satisfaction.

Cassie walked into the restaurant without looking back. She didn’t need to look to know he’d followed her in. She could feel him—his heat, his presence, his security.

Only two tables remained open in the clean, no-frills restaurant. Cassie took the larger one beside a window. Just seeing him was torture. She didn’t need to be any closer to him than necessary.

Rio lifted a hand in greeting to three men at a corner booth, then sat opposite her. He removed his Ray-Bans, hooked them on the collar of his T-shirt, and fixed her with an attentive look. His eyes were even more striking in the daylight, a beautiful mossy shade of green. Contrasted against his black hair, the overall effect was dramatic. Intense.

He clasped his hands on the Formica tabletop, drawing her attention there. Instead of remembering how they’d felt holding her last night, her memory strayed to thoughts of those long, strong fingers covering her back and caressing her shoulders that day at the cemetery. Then his voice shimmered into the memory, deep and soothing at her ear.
“I know it hurts. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Maria set two glasses of tea in front of them, cutting off Cassie’s thoughts. Now if she could just get rid of the tingle along her spine, the gnawing ache in her chest…

“
Gracias
, Maria.” Rio handed her a twenty and waved away the need for change.

Two years younger than her brother, Maria set a wide, beautiful smile on Rio. “
Muchas gracias,
Rio.” She turned to Cassie. “Nice to see you again. I’m sure Nina and Mirabel are happy to have you home.”

Cassie hadn’t seen either her cousin or aunt yet, and the fact that they were here and waiting for her should have made this feel like home, but the word felt foreign. Where was home? Here, in Baja, where she’d been rooted most of her life? San Diego, where her career waited? The truth was, she didn’t belong anywhere. And, without Mamà and Santos, she didn’t belong to anyone either. She was starting to think she didn’t even know who the hell she was anymore.

Still, she nodded and returned Maria’s smile. “Good to be back. How are your parents?”

“Ornery as ever. Papa had both knees replaced, and he’s been driving Mamá crazy while he recovers.”

“Maria.” Miguel beckoned his sister from the counter where three customers waited.

“And
he’s
been driving
me
crazy without Mamá here. I’d better get back.”

Cassie refocused on Rio and circled the cool glass with her hands. “That was a nice wad of cash you gave Mario down at the docks.” She ran a finger over the condensation on her glass and checked for a reaction from beneath her lashes. She got nothing, just that calm expression. “Was that from the estate’s operating fund? Does Saul know you’re cutting into his hooker cash? He’d probably have a problem with that.”

Still no comment from Rio.

“Or…” She tipped her head, pushing for a reaction. “Maybe that was you. I only know they came to the house, not who they serviced. Is that the kind of woman you like, Rio? The kind you can—”

“I try to be generous when I can.” His stern tone made his thinning patience plenty clear. “Mario’s been very good to your family.”

She ground her teeth before enunciating clearly, “And that has what to do with why you were you following me?”

“We mentioned the dangers in town last night.” He looked out the window, his gaze pausing on several milling groups of less than savory-looking men, then returned his attention to her. “This isn’t the best neighborhood, but it’s not the worst either. The docks are the worst. You shouldn’t have gone down there by yourself.”