Rogue Diamond (2 page)

Finally, she turned to the crowd
, her large in
digo eyes brimming with tears. "Oh, please help me find the child. She's a little girl, eighteen months old. She belongs to the woman who is injured! She must be hurt too! Maybe under one of these wagons! Please look for her!"

A rumble of sympathy waved through the crowd and they began to scatter and do Alex's frantic biding. Two men helped her set one of the wagons upright and watched sadly as she dropped to her knees on the pebbled street. There was no child beneath it.

Undaunted, she scrambled to her feet and led them to another overturned wagon. "This one! Help me lift it.
Maybe she's here!" With an inex
haustible energy,
Alex searched, spurring the cu
rious crowd to help her. "She's here! She has to be here! We had her with us before the crash!"

The sound of another
si
ren reminded Alex of Teresa. She ru
shed back in time to murmur com
forting words to the unconscious young woman before the medics lifted her onto the white
sheeted gurney. They closed the ambulance doors, and Alex turned frantically to a policeman.

"You must help me find her child. The three of us were right here. She's just a little girl, not quite two, with curly brown hair, wearing a pink sundress. And now I can't find her. Maybe she's hurt!" From the way the policeman looked at her, Alex wondered if she was making any sense.

He gave her a gentle smile. "We will find her, senorita. But, please—" He looked down and Alex followed his gaze. She was clutching his arm with white-knuckled fingers which dug into his forearm.

"Sorry." She released him and whimpered apologetically. "I'm just so scared. First, Teresa. Now, Jenni. Things are happening so fast. ..."

"I understand, senorita. Don't worry. We will find her. Now, tell me more about this child that is mis
si
ng." The
si
ren from the ambulance taking Teresa away blotted out all pos
si
ble conversation for a few minutes.

Nick Diamond heard the distant
si
rens and knew by the
increa
si
ng swell, they were ap
proaching his vicinity. Maybe there had been an incident at the
neighborhood bar, a spot of con
stant turmoil, he thought. Then again, maybe not. What if there was some problem with their contact for the pickup tonight? What if someone had squealed? He always con
si
dered what might go wrong when the time grew close. It was his bu
si
ness to be a little paranoid.

Nick lurched instantly to his feet, moving rapidly for a man so large. Though lean, his legs were powerful, his body muscular, his chest broad. His deep umber eyes gleamed
as he scanned 
his surroundings. There wasn't a speck of warmth in those eyes, though
. T
hey were cagey, almost vicious, and dark. Those eyes had looked despair squarely in the face, and stared unflinchingly at all kinds of atrocities.

He had overcome the fear most men felt in dangerous
si
tuations, and anticipated his next risk with shrewd
determination, almost eager
ness. It was the way he lived, on the edge of disaster and excitement. It was this edge that brought his lean b
ody to a slightly crouched po
si
tion, his taut muscles flexed like a coiled spring.

Although he was an American, Nick Diamond blended in with the dark-haired Mexican people around him. Purposely, he dressed in casual peasant-style clothing—
loose
white britches and a
camisa
, a shirt that hung out
si
de his waistband. B
eneath the loose clothes and be
hind the dark,
bushy mustache was a man of tem
pered steel, a dangerous man.
Norte
a
mericano
, some Mexicans called him. Those who knew him referred to the tall
, commanding man as El Capitan
. He definitely fi
t the title. His coarse, unfet
tered
camisa
sometimes concealed a small gun, which was almost completely hidden in his large hand when he held it. He wasn't reluctant to use the weapon; indeed, the cold steel had saved his life more than once. To those who'd seen him in action, he engendered fear. And respect. In a
time and place
desperate for heroes, Nick Dia
mond was a reluctant proxy.

Before Nick could take another step, a short, stocky Mexican m
an in
si
milar peasant attire ap
peared in the doorway. His muscular arms braced the arched portal, effectively blocking the exit.

"What the hell is that all about,
Jose
?"

"It is nothing, Capita
n. Listen." The burly man with the elaborate handlebar mustache held up a finger. It was almost a comical gesture coming from such a rough-looking man.

Nick paused as the
si
ren's whine was cut short.

"See? They stop a couple of blocks away. Maybe two stubborn cars wouldn't give up their right of way. Did you hear the crash?"

"
Oh yeah. More than two cars, I’d say. Y
ou have
some careless,
craz
y
drivers in
this city. Or m
ight be trouble at Pancho's Bar again."

The first
si
re
n was followed closely by a sec
ond.

"
Si
."
Jose
relaxed in the entry way and turned to look out into the street, still listening. "Or the marketplace."

"Maybe we should check it out."

"Not we, Capita
n. Maybe I will go."
Jose
shook his head and the carefully curled ends of his mustache jiggled.

"We need to make sure it's a wreck
and not some
terrorist act
."

"No, Capita
n. No more heroics, please. We're supposed to keep a low profile, remember? If you keep on saving lives, word about you will spread fast and everyone will be talking. We do not want that."

Nick relaxed his shoulders and leaned trim hips against the edge of an old wooden desk. "If you're referring to that incident last week, I merely performed ba
si
c CPR. Nothing fancy. The man was having a heart attack. I couldn't let him die in the street.
”

"And now everyone thinks you work miracles. It makes you some kind o
f hero."
Jose
ges
tured with an expres
si
ve hand.

"Some hero," Nick grunted with a low laugh. "If they knew the truth about me, they'd swing me from the nearest mesquite tree."

Jose
grinn
ed, his white teeth flashing be
neath his handlebar mustache. "
Si
, Capita
n. But they don't know the truth. They only know what they see. So you must lay low. Especially today. We cannot take a chance on mes
si
ng up tonight's haul. Too much at stake."

"Ah, you're right,
Jose
.
But
I need to know everything that's going on around me." Nick folded his muscular arms across his broad chest. "Anyway, the policia are there by now, and they can handle it. Probably."

His eyes flickered with sarcasm and
Jose
si
ghed and looked away. He had worked with Nick Diamond long enough to know what he was thinking, how his shrewdly calculating mind worked. Nick's years of experience had left him
wary and unyielding. No one or nothing could be trusted.

A third
si
ren pierced the dead quiet.

Nick shifted uncomfortably and looked up, his unswerving umber eyes meeting his partner's in a mutual understanding.

Jose
nodded and began to move before the demand could even be made. "
Si
, senor, I'll go check it out."

"Good idea." Nick turned back to the shabby space he and
Jose
called an office and picked up a paper from the desk.

Fifteen minutes later,
Jose
returned with an account to relay. "A drunk driver crashed into a light pole and knocked over many wagons in the public marketplace. With the Saturday crowd in the market, they were damn lucky. Only a few people were injured."

"Badly?"

Jose
shrugged. "One woman. They took her away in an ambulance."

Nick's eyes narrowed. "You're sure it was an accident?"

Jose
nodded. "There was another young woman involved. A norteamericana, with blond hair. She was looking for a Mexican baby. Claimed the
child was there before the acci
dent."

"Injured?"

"They don't know. Couldn't find her."

"Hmmm." Nick looked back down at the sheet of paper in his hands. As soon as he'd memorized
this information, the paper would be destroyed, leaving no evidence.

"The woman, she was very pretty,
Capitan
. Blond hair and blue eyes. Muy bonita.
F
rom the States—"
Jose
halted.

Nick had already turned his back. He hadn't heard, nor did he care about any pretty,
blond
woman. But it wasn't surpri
si
ng to
Jose
. In the year they'd worked together in Mexico, Nick had never shown
anything more than lusty inter
est in any woman. Although his women were beautiful, Nick never bothered with anything more than a brief encounter.

The man was remarkable.
Jose
knew his partner had blocked everything else out and now concentrated c
ompletely on the information be
fore him, and the wrap-up of tonight's operation. It was just as we
ll. He didn't need the complica
tion of a woman in his line of bu
si
ness.

The policeman jotted down more information from Alex, then stuffed the pen and paper into his pocket and led her to his sergeant. The three conferred, then began a search in the streets which lasted u
ntil every cart had been set up
right again and the wrecker had hauled away the ugly green hulk of a car. Its drunken driver had long
si
nce been whisked away to jail.

Even when the police gave up the search, Alex stayed. Hours later, after the mess in the streets was completely cleaned up and vendors were attempting to sell what wasn't destroyed by the crash, Alex was still there. Except for the light
post resting against a building, the marketplace bore no trace of the
earlier
tragedy that had darkened Alex's life.

But Alex couldn't give up. Jenni had to be here. If she wasn't injured, then someone had rescued her. Someone knew where she was, Alex was sure of it. One of the shopkeepers had to know where the
child was, and Alexis was deter
mined to find out. Tirelessly, she went from shop to shop, vendor to vendor, even to strangers on the street. "Have you seen a little girl? About two. Dark, curly hair . . ."

"Senorita?"

"Yes?" Alex halted wearily be
si
de an open-
front
taco stand
.

"Senorita, please, come in. Have a seat." The shopkeeper ges
tured to a small round wrought-
iron table near
the wall. "Let me give you some
thing to drink. To refresh you."

The small place looked like a welcome haven, and his voice was so kind that Alexis complied without a second thought. She slumped at the table and stared
blankly, exhausted from the en
ergy-draining
events of the day. When he shuf
fled toward her with a blended fruit and ice drink in his hand, Alex recognized him as the same man who'd stepped forward to help her after the accident.

Alex smiled faintly, her mouth softening. "Thank you for helping me today." She spoke to him in fluent Spanish. "I was so scared."

"It was nothing." He shrugged and sat down
oppo
si
te her, slidi
ng the tall glass across the ta
ble. "Here. Drink, please."

"Thanks." Alex
si
pped gratefully, not fully re
alizing how hot and thirsty she was until this minute.