Obsession (6 page)

“We can arrange that.”

Alejandro turned right onto a gated gravel road lined with pine trees and low-lying shrubbery.
No
Trespassing
signs warned people in Spanish and English of punishment, fines, and imprisonment. There were worse things. Like Raul and his special room. She thought about the big man who’d helped rescue her from the hell on earth.

“Where’s your giant friend?”

“Tio had some business to attend to in town. He’s meeting us here with our police chief.” Alejandro made a face as if someone had just farted. “About time Isabel put him in his place.”

Angie licked her bruised lips and gingerly touched her swollen cheek. Eager to confront her attacker with two armed men at her side, she wondered how Raul would respond. Would he grovel because his boss found out? Would the creep fast-talk his way out of attempted rape, blame her, point to the obviously planted bag of drugs? Would Isabel relent because she needed cops and politicians in her pocket? Or would she give the man some equally rough justice? One could only hope.

Alejandro pulled the car into a huge circular driveway. In the center stood an enormous three-tiered copper fountain topped with a winged cherub taking a watery piss. Exuberant growths of bright red geraniums fought for space with Bird-of-Paradise plants and an array of greens that she couldn’t identify. An expansive brick walkway invited visitors to the front door, a door that appeared to be hand-carved mahogany. A balcony on the second floor with wrought iron railings called out for hot coffee at sunrise. The biggest surprise was that everything, right down to the Moorish style mullioned windows, was done in good taste—except the cloven hoofed pet.

“You’re not like any of the drug dealers I’ve ever met before. What’s a nice guy like you doing in a place like this,” she waved her hand at the villa, “with goats?”

He pulled the key out of the ignition, turned, raised his sunglasses, and winked.

Her breath caught in her throat, and her stomach tensed—but not from giggles. Handsome, charming, breath taking. And a drug lord. She was
not
falling for a drug dealer. No. Way. Not
again
.

As if reading her thoughts, he gave her a long, sexy smile that went all the way up to piercing azure eyes. Pinned by the intensity of his scrutiny, her boneless arms refused to move. Almost otherworldly in color and intensity, his bright blue gaze and slow non-verbal assessment reminded her of someone she’d met long ago. Who? Where? The man had to be the devil incarnate. Maybe the goats were
his
.

He reached over and placed his hand on her shoulder with care. The gentle touch and warmth of this chivalrous man’s hand on her shoulder warred with the hard, cold knowledge that he worked for one of the biggest cartel bosses in Mexico. Alejandro tipped his head toward the mansion and spoke in a low rasp. “Here, at this house, no one is what they seem. Remember that. It could save your life.”

****

Alejandro climbed out of the VW Beetle and confronted the goat.

“Hey, Guillermo,” he shouted and waved his baseball cap at the animal. “Get off, you furball.” Guillermo the goat, aka “Billy,” was a black shaggy thing the size of a German shepherd. Billy turned his face toward Alejandro and shook his head and short horns.

“Don’t you give me that who-died-and-left-you-boss look. Get down.”

Billy raised his nose in the air and clattered from the roof, to the front windshield, to the hood of the car. Then, as if to demonstrate who was
really
in charge, the animal performed a tap dance worthy of a Broadway hoofer. Alejandro pushed the arrogant beast off the car. The creature pranced over to the center of the driveway and began to graze on the red flowers alongside the fountain.

“Stupid goat.” He glanced at the woman through the windshield. Dammit. Of all the drug cartels in all of Mexico, why did this gal have to come to Isabel’s? And why did she have to be so damn—
winsome
? Under that kick ass exterior, the woman had a childlike quality and sweetness that reached into his chest and squeezed his tough heart. He shifted his gaze to the munching goat. He
had
to stop thinking about her that way. She was a momentary bump in an otherwise smooth operation. There was
no room
for romance in his life. His weekly visits with the lovely Natasha satisfied his needs. What more could an undercover agent want?

He shook his head. It was the damn mother card. Hooked. Again. First the sex-trafficked Natasha, who really
did
have a daughter being held hostage by an organized crime ring in Moldova, now Angie, who had a baby being held hostage by an organized religious cult. Since when did criminals and cults become organized? Had they all gone to business schools for MBAs? What was the world coming to?

He sneaked a glance at Angie. Why, oh why, did she have to be a redhead, too? Her long copper colored hair was the erotic equivalent of waving a red cape in front of a horny bull. Add the gorgeous breasts that he tried to pretend he didn’t see in the craptastic jail, her battered but still beautiful patrician face, and her warped sense of humor—and he was ready to slit his jugular. As if feeling the heat of his gaze through the glass, she looked up and gave him a teary, lopsided grin with perfect teeth. His heart lurched. He pressed his eyeballs to crush an image of grabbing her and pulling her into her into a passionate kiss on her full red lips. If he didn’t stop, he’d have a hard time explaining his hard-on. He heard the car door slam shut.

“Are you okay?” The object of his obsession stood in front of him, a concerned expression creasing her forehead.

“Fine,” he lied with a smile. “Just a bit of headache. I hate that drive.”

“Here I thought you had nerves of steel.” She grinned. “I was terrified we’d fall off the side of the canyon.”

“There are worse things to be afraid of.” The front door yawned open. “Like the people inside that house.”

A man’s massive frame filled the entryway.

Angie took a step back and bumped into Alejandro. “Who is that?”

“That, my friend, is Tio’s little brother, Pepe.”

“Are there more like that where they come from?”

“Dozens.” He took her by the elbow with care. “It’s okay, his bite is worse than his bark. Time for you to meet the boss lady. You’re gonna
love
her.”

Angie straightened her shoulders and shook her arm out of his clasp. “I’m a bad ass girl, too. Don’t you ever forget that.”

“How could I? Even in handcuffs it was obvious you were putting the hurt on that jerk. I have no desire to tangle with you.” Except in bed, he added to himself.
Stop that. No sex with the women on the job.

As if hearing his thoughts, she quirked an eyebrow at him and shook her head. “Let’s go see my new BFF, shall we?”

Pepe shouted in Spanish.

“What’d he say?”

“He said, ‘Get your asses in here.’ Such a class act, that guy.” Alejandro swept his baseball hat off and bowed. “You first, milady.”

She spun on her heel and marched ahead of him. As if to add icing on the delectable confection named after angels, her luscious behind swayed hypnotically before him, begging for his attention. He sighed and enjoyed the view. Thank all the gods by whatever names they go by, the baby would be here soon, safe in his mother’s arms. Then she’d be on her way. The tingling he felt from head to toe told him if he spent too much time with her, the combination of her physical beauty, grit, and passion could damage more than his heart. The last time he’d felt this way about a woman, she’d blown his cover. The thought of
that
debacle cooled his libidinous thoughts.

He crossed into the cool hallway and smacked Pepe on the back of his head. “
Cállate!
Shut your mouth. Your balls are falling off your tongue.”

Pepe roared with laughter, picked Alejandro up in a bear hug and squeezed him until he was breathless. Garrulous and profane when excited, the big man rattled on in Spanish, “Tio called and told me about your adventure. Now I wish I’d gone with you to meet the
senorita
instead of my brother. He has
all
the fun.”

“When he gets here with Raul, I bet you’ll have some fun, too.”

“How did that asshole get to her first?”

“She arrived half a day early. Must have driven all night and day.” Alejandro nodded at Angie who stood nearby and tapped her fingers on her crossed arms. “Angelita wants her baby back and she wants him
now
.”

Pepe’s smile faltered. “Couldn’t find a trace of him in any of the missions, towns or villages in the entire State of Chihuahua.” He gave Alejandro the details of the network’s inquiries and ended with a sigh. “No crazy cults, no white babies.”

Alejandro’s stomach dropped. Who was going to have to tell her the bad news?

Isabel’s commanding voice cut through the air. “Pepe, I need you. Where are you?”

The big man shrugged. “We’ve got company.” He pointed at Angie and spoke in English, “Taking you to meet the boss lady.”

A flash of hope lit her green eyes. “Is my son with her?”

“Sorry. No. We’re still searching for him.”

Tears filled her eyes and spilled down her scratched cheeks.

Alejandro put his arm around her slumped shoulders. “It’s a large state, a lot of territory.”

She looked into his eyes, her gaze imploring. “Tell me the truth.”

He nodded. “Pepe said they’ve searched all the populated places in Chihuahua. No cults, no white babies.”

“Everywhere? Are you sure?”

“They’ve checked the villages along the railroad and the highway. Nothing.”

“What about the Sierra Madre? My father
specifically
prophesied about a fortress in the mountains.”

Pepe man shook his head. “You’d have to be a goat or a madman to get in those places.”

“My father’s a psychopath. He can do things you would
never
think possible.” She headed down the hall. “If you can’t figure out a way to search those mountains and canyons, I will. I’m taking this up with your boss.”

Alejandro ran after Angie, Pepe lumbering behind him. They all screeched to a halt in the living room. Alejandro gagged. Something smelled like hairy armpits mixed with a porta-pottie on a sweltering day. Fists on her hips, Isabel stood behind a large wicker sofa. “About time you got in here,” Isabel directed her comment at Pepe. “Angie, I’m Izzy.” Her wild black curls danced around her head as she spoke with jerky, wild gestures. “I went for a ride on my favorite horse, Nightrider. This—this
thing
—jumped out of the bushes on the side of the path, waving a machete and looking like something from a bad parade for
Día de los Muertos
—Day of the Dead. He terrified Nightrider. The poor animal reared up and almost threw me off his back. If Pepe hadn’t shot this lunatic, I don’t know what would have happened next.”

The Latina turned and pointed at the floor.

“Can you tell us who the hell this is?”

Pinioned with ropes at the wrists and ankles, the man’s head lay at an awkward angle, a hefty blue tattoo exposed on the side of his neck. A large blue cross inside a circle matched the pendant lying on his scrawny chest. Alejandro circled the prisoner and pulled his shirt over his nose in a futile attempt to avoid the stench of sweat and urine drenching the air around the filthy man. Bones tenting beneath his pale skin, Alejandro could not only count the man’s ribs, but his vertebrae. Covered with red peeling skin, bug bites, and scabbed over wounds, the man’s back gave mute testimony to a litany of abuses, the least of which was severe sunburn.

His stomach knotted when he realized what the stripes meant. Flogging. Alejandro crossed his arms and stroked his beard, puzzling out the possibilities. That left either penance
or
punishment at someone else’s hands. Who would have done that to him? His gaze travelled down his back to the knotted, blood-stained rope tied around the man’s waist as a belt for his shredded denim shorts. He shuddered. Those wounds were self-inflicted. But fresher ones, bruises and abrasions dotted his arms, legs and ribs.

The red haired woman gasped and her eyes widened. “That’s one of my father’s followers.”

"Glad you know who he is. I couldn’t get a thing out of him, even with my favorite steel toed boots.”

“Is he alive?” Angie touched the poor wretch’s arm.

The man shrieked. “Nononononononono.”

“Still breathing.” Izzy grinned. “He thinks you’re going to kick him.”

A reasonable fear, Alejandro thought.

Angie glared at Izzy. “What’d you do to him?”

“He’s been on a time out.” Isabel smirked. “In a hot box.”

“He’s
useless
to us if he dies.” Angie sat on the floor and lifted the scrawny man onto her lap.

How could Angie stand the stench of the man?
Alejandro gagged every time the fumes wafted toward him.

She pointed at Pepe. “You. Water.
Agua
.
Now
.”

While Pepe raced out of the room, she worked at the ropes without success. The redhead looked up at Alejandro with an exasperated expression.

Without a word, he knelt down, pulled out his pocketknife and sawed at the ties until the man’s hands and legs fell loose.

Pepe returned with a case of water and handed her an open bottle.

Lifting the man’s head, Angie began to pour small amounts into his mouth. At last, he began to swallow, first in tiny sips, then great gulps.

“Okay,” she spoke in soft voice, “easy, Brother.”