The Stranger and I
Carol Ericson

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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To my husband, Neil, and our two boys for their

enduring love and support. Ustedes son mis héroes.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Epilogue

Chapter One

The sharp snap jarred Lila out of an uneasy sleep. She bolted upright. Shrugging off the coarse, itchy blanket, she peered through the dirty car window into the dark, now-silent night. Where’d Chad go?

She glanced into the front seat. The keys dangled from the ignition, and her purse rested on the passenger seat where she’d left it before crawling into the back for a nap. Her mouth dry, she inhaled the mist seeping through the open window in the front.

Pressing her nose against the cool glass, she tried to focus on the dark shapes etched in the muted moonlight. Rubbing her eyes, she rolled down the window, catching the salty air on her tongue. A grove of palmetto and conical boojum trees created a thick barrier halting the encroachment of the narrow gravel road.

She heard it again, a crack cutting through the air. That same sound had permeated her sleep, dredging her up to this muddled state of consciousness. Instinctively, she opened her mouth to call out to Chad, but prickles of uncertainty danced along the back of her neck. She snapped her lips shut.

Chad told her earlier that he had to make a stop to meet someone before they crossed the border, but in this deserted spot? Didn’t make sense.

She grasped the car-door handle, easing it forward and nudging the door open with her knee. The dome light flickered and faded, failing to shed any light on her predicament.

“Damn,” she muttered, “broken like everything else in this crappy car.”

She placed a sandaled foot on a thick carpet of plant life that muffled her step.

And slid into the unknown.

Leaving the door open, she stole through the cluster of trees toward a new sound. Voices. Did Chad find his friend? The tone of the voices didn’t sound very friendly. She crouched behind some underbrush that skirted a small clearing.

Angry words punctuated the night air. She strained to understand them, inching toward another bush to gain a clear view of the open space.

She gaped at the man kneeling on the ground with his hands secured behind his back. A streak of what looked like blood stained his right cheek. Chad. And those men didn’t look like friends.

A thickset figure stood before Chad, holding a thin whip. Another, taller man pointed a gun at Chad’s head. The man with the whip snapped it and barked out a question in a foreign language. Chad shook his head, earning him a swipe across his bare chest. A thin line of blood sprang up. He jerked his head back, his long blond hair swinging behind him.

Lila bit the inside of her cheek to keep from screaming. The metallic taste of her own blood spiked her tongue. She couldn’t understand the stocky man. Her brow creased. The language he spoke didn’t remotely resemble Spanish.

Chad’s tormentors had their backs to her, so she poked her head above the shrubbery to get his attention.

His half-closed eyes widened for a moment. He shook his head and groaned out, “No,” before dropping his chin to his chest.

Was that meant for her? She ducked.

Crouching, she scanned the ground for a heavy rock or a stick. She needed a weapon. She glanced back at the gun glinting in the moonlight and froze. A rock, no matter how heavy, couldn’t take on a firearm.

Her eyes darted to the other side of the clearing. Should she create a disturbance? Could Chad escape? Eyeing his limp form, she doubted he could make much of an effort. No, she had to get away and find help if she hoped to save Chad.

From their language, she knew the men weren’t Mexican Federales. At least Chad hadn’t broken any Mexican laws to get into this predicament. Or had he? What did she really know about Chad Delaney beyond what his casual chatter revealed during the three carefree days they’d spent together?

The man with the whip growled out another question. Raising his head, Chad gasped out an answer in the same language.

Wrong answer.

The whip shot out again, this time catching Chad across his bare thigh. Lila twitched with the impact, the sting resonating on her own flesh.

Chad threw his head back and yelled, “El túnel está aquí…” The tall man fired his gun. Chad pitched face forward in the dirt.

Her stomach lurched. She ground her teeth together to subdue the sour lump of terror rising from her gut.

Her eyes burned into the backs of the men now standing over Chad’s lifeless body, but her feet stayed as rooted to the ground as the thick brush that ringed the clearing.

Branches crackled and the trees across from her parted, ejecting two more men brandishing guns. As they cursed in Spanish, Lila peeled her feet from the ground and backed up one step at a time. The thick, springy undergrowth silenced her footsteps, but the two sets of men were too busy screaming at each other to hear anything anyway.

Once free of the bushes, she spun and ran for the car. Her heart ricocheted in her chest. The sound of her own terror roared in her ears like a wild beast. She tripped on a gnarled root. She sprawled forward, flinging her arms out in front of her. The sharp edges of the leaves and twigs covering the ground bit into her palms and knees. She dragged herself up. She plunged ahead, ignoring the pain that pierced her ankle.

Staccato blasts echoed in the clearing.

More tree branches snapped.

Were they chasing her?

A sob ripped through her throat. A scream penetrated the mist. She couldn’t tell if it belonged to her or one of the four men involved in the shoot-out behind her.

She lunged at the car and gripped the door handle. As she yanked the door open, her breath raked through her lungs. She twisted her head over her shoulder to peer into the moon-smudged darkness.

No one followed. Were they all dead? She didn’t plan to stick around for the autopsies.

Dropping onto the driver’s seat, she grabbed at the keys in the ignition and cranked them forward. The engine sprang to life, and she ground the gearshift into Reverse. She stomped on the accelerator without even looking behind her. The back door of the car, which she’d left open, slammed shut. Her heart rate charged up another notch.

The tires crunched on the gravel, spewing dust and grit in their wake. Once she hit the paved road, Lila spun the steering wheel, threw the gear shift into first and gunned it. The car lurched and almost stalled before she shoved it into second and then third gear. Giving a protesting whine, the car straightened out on the asphalt and hurtled forward into the night. Her eyes picked out a Jeep pulled over to the side of the road. Stopping was not an option.

Lila clutched the steering wheel, her eyes darting back and forth between the road in front of her and the rearview mirror. Surely the men who murdered Chad heard her escape but still nobody came. And who were the other two, Chad’s friends?

She careened off the main road onto a smaller one that paralleled the coast. Her mind buzzed with shock and fear as she continued driving on for another hour.

Peeling her eyes from their constant vigil between the road ahead and the one receding in her mirror, she glanced down at the instrument panel. She needed gas. She needed food. And she needed to harness her galloping thoughts.

Calling the police in Mexico spelled trouble. What if Chad planned to meet this friend for a drug deal or something? Would the police arrest her as his accomplice? A cold fear grabbed her gut.

The light broke to the east, filtering through the haze, working its fingers through the gaps in the brown hills. A battered sign announced the next town, Loma Vista.

She pulled up to a gas pump in front of a dusty roadside café on the outskirts of town. As she filled the tank, her hands shook and the gas sloshed from the nozzle dribbling down the side of the car.

Leaning into the window, she grabbed her purse and walked toward the little café to pay and get something to eat.

The man at the counter smiled, his teeth gleaming against his brown skin. “Hola, señorita. You pay for gas?”

Lila answered, “Hola, yes, the gas, and could I please have some huevos rancheros and a cup of coffee?”

The few patrons at the counter ignored her. Americans close to the border were commonplace, even off the main road.

When she pulled out her wallet, a white envelope, with her first name scribbled across the front, slid to the floor. Wrinkling her brow, she picked it up.

She paid the clerk and carried the envelope to a table by the window. She ripped it open and pulled out a single sheet of folded paper.

Lila, if you’re reading this then something happened to me. If I don’t return to the car, take it across the border and go straight to the name and address at the bottom of this page. Don’t call the police or go to the Federales. I’m sorry to drag you into this, but when I saw you standing at the side of the road it was a stroke of luck for me. I’m afraid it was an ill omen for you, but once you deliver the car and tell Justin what happened you’ll be fine. Again, I’m sorry…

The name Justin Vidal and an address appeared at the bottom of the page.

The proprietor put her plate of eggs on the table. She jumped.

He frowned. “Lo siento, señorita. I scare you?”

Shaking her head and covering the letter with her hand, she gave a hollow laugh. “Oh no, no. I’m just tired. That’s why I need the coffee. Gracias.”

He shrugged, put the coffee cup on the table next to the plate and shuffled back to the counter.

Clutching her fork, she stared at the letter. Chad expected trouble and picked her up anyway. She jabbed at the eggs on her plate and speared a forkful into her mouth. As she chewed, she ground her teeth together.

He used her to make sure the news of his demise would get safely back to this Justin Vidal, whoever he was.

She swallowed and sighed, her anger evaporating as quickly as it collected. The man just died. She could at least try to honor his last wishes, unless there were drugs in the car. She wouldn’t go down that road again.

She screwed her eyes shut, trying to block out the vision of Chad plunging forward into the dirt. Before the others arrived, Chad and the two men had been speaking a strange language. Arabic? She didn’t see the men as clearly as Chad’s battered body claimed all her attention. Why did a man like Chad, a surfer on vacation in Mexico, speak Arabic?

The other two came charging in speaking Spanish. Were they all connected, or did the Mexicans stumble onto the scene as she did? With guns? Chad had some strange friends.

Puffing her cheeks, she blew out a breath of air and swept her change off the table into her hand. While putting her change away in her wallet, she flipped it open to the plastic insert. With her fingertip, she traced the outline of a face in the photo. Tyler.

She finished her eggs and swallowed the rest of her coffee, grimacing at its bitter taste. Calling a farewell to the man at the counter, she walked out to the car. She glanced up and down the road.

Before proceeding any further with this wild scheme or getting in any deeper, she wanted to make sure Chad didn’t have anything illegal stashed in his trunk, making her an unwitting accomplice. Once was believable, twice was criminal.

In keeping with the car’s battered condition, the trunk lock was broken. She eased open the trunk, tilting her head sideways to glimpse inside. Drawing her brows together, she reached out to pluck at what looked like a pile of clothes.

Her fingers touched clammy human flesh. She gasped and drew back as the trunk light illuminated the curled-up body of a man. She clamped her fist to her mouth.

She slammed the lid down and stood trembling. Her hand gripped the keys in the broken lock. Was this the friend Chad went to meet? She craned her neck to glance into the café at the same bunch of men huddled over the counter. Nobody even looked out the window.

Could she dump the body out here? Don’t be ridiculous. She’d never get away with that.

Should she tell someone inside the restaurant to call the Federales? Chad’s letter specifically ordered her not to do that, but what did she owe Chad? He dragged her into this mess and then got himself murdered, but maybe he knew calling the Federales would get her into trouble now.

The screen door of the café banged open, and the proprietor stepped out onto the sagging porch. “Is everything okay, señorita? Your car okay?”

She yelled back, “Está bien. It’s okay.”

He stood outside watching her, and she made one of her hasty decisions. Oh hell, I’m going to do what Chad asked me to do in that letter. Dead body or no dead body.

She waved to the man on the porch and slid into the car.

Taking it slow and easy, she got back on the main road toward Tijuana and the border. She joined the line of cars crawling through the border stop. She licked her dry lips and called over one of the many vendors threading their way through the cars. After a few minutes of haggling, she bought a large, gaudy sombrero and a donkey puppet on strings in an attempt to appear like a normal tourist, even though she felt far from normal. Tyler would like the puppet anyway.

As she inched the dirty little car forward, her mouth got drier and drier. Her hands gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles bleached white. She drew a ragged breath and grabbed the water bottle lying on the seat next to her. She grimaced at the film of sediment at the bottom of the bottle and wet her lips with the warm, stale water.

Releasing the steering wheel, she flexed her fingers and coached herself. “You can do this, Lila.”

The Border Patrol agent approached her car, and she turned down the radio and rolled down the window. His dark sunglasses hid his eyes, reflecting her face. Her lips peeled back in a smile.

He ducked his head. “Good morning, ma’am. What was the reason for your visit to Mexico?”

“Just came over as a tourist.” She didn’t want to get into any long explanations with him about her research as a marine biologist.

Gesturing to the car, he said, “Looks like you’ve been driving quite a bit.”

She shrugged. “Just down the coast and back.” Sucking in a breath, she held her smile and waited.

He shook his head. “It’s not a great idea for a woman to drive alone in Mexico.”

Stepping back, he waved her through. “Have a nice day.”

She expelled her breath, and breezed across the border into the United States of America.

Once she reached the border town of Nestor, she pulled off the road into the parking lot of a shopping center. She grabbed the grubby street map shoved in the door’s side pocket. After jotting down the directions to the address in Chad’s note, she took off to deliver the bad news and the dead body to Justin Vidal.

Cruising into San Diego, she searched for the address among streets that twisted and turned through hills and canyons. She found it tucked away on a quiet block dense with trees. A high fence and lush vegetation obscured the house from the road.

She pulled up across the street and, still favoring her sore ankle, walked through the gate up to a large wooden deck.

She rang the doorbell and knotted her hands in front of her. What was she doing? She had a dead guy in her trunk. She should just call the police right now. She spun on her heel, when a gruff voice from behind the door stopped her.

“Who is it?”

She gulped. “Ah, you don’t know me, but I met Chad Delaney in Mexico, and he gave me a lift, and—”

The thick wooden door jerked open. A strong arm shot out and dragged her across the threshold. That same arm encircled her neck, pinning her back against a body as hard as granite.

She clawed at his arm and stomped down on his foot in a futile struggle. A click close to her ear made her freeze. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the barrel of a very big gun.

The low voice, as smooth as silky, dark chocolate but not as sweet, purred in her ear. “That’s better. Now, who the hell are you, and where’s Chad?”

A river of anger coursed through her veins, washing away the fear. She did everything Chad asked of her, and his so-called friend planned to repay her with a bullet in the head?

She gasped out, “If you’d get your arm off my neck, I could tell you.”

The man grunted and released her so quickly, she stumbled. She pivoted and looked up into a pair of tawny-colored eyes glinting with sparks of anger. The man’s intense stare plucked an answering chord in her chest, and she raised her hand to cover her heart. Then her gaze fell to the gun still aimed in her direction.

“And stop pointing that thing at me. I’ve had just about enough of you and Chad, and, and…” She sagged against the door while hot tears scalded her cheeks. She sensed movement from the stranger, but he made no attempt to comfort her.

Comfort? Yeah, like a rattlesnake.

Damn, she hated crying. It never solved anything. Didn’t do much good when her father died, and wouldn’t do much good now in the face of this man’s smoldering fierceness.

Dragging a hand across her face, she heaved herself off the door. She glanced up through wet lashes at the imposing figure still standing in front of her, sinewy arms crossed over an unyielding chest. He watched her through narrowed eyes.

Tiger’s eyes.

But at least the gun had disappeared.

She rubbed her nose with the back of her hand and croaked, “Can I sit down?”

He stepped back and nodded toward a chair by the window, his dark, wet hair falling over one eye. She limped to the hard chair and perched on the edge.

“Who are you, and where’s Chad?”

Gripping her knees, she drew a shaky breath. “Chad’s dead.”

The man in front of her swore softly but didn’t move, except for a twitching muscle in his jaw. Some emotion flickered in his eyes. Fear? Regret?

He intoned, “Go on.”

She dragged her hands through her tangled hair as she continued. “I met Chad three days ago just outside of Playa Roja. I’m a marine biologist, a graduate student at U.C. San Diego, and I went to Mexico to conduct a study of the marine life off the coast there.”

His lean jaw relaxed a little, and encouraged, she plunged ahead. “My car broke down, and Chad came by and gave me a lift.”

The man’s breath hissed out between his clenched teeth, but he said nothing. Every taut muscle in his body signaled danger.

She faltered. “I—I…He said he was driving back up across the border and could take me all the way into San Diego. We planned to drive all night, crossing the border in the early morning, but last night Chad mentioned he had to make a quick stop to meet a friend.”

Interrupting her for the first time since her monologue began, he asked, “Did he tell you why? Did he tell you his business in Mexico?”

She shook her head. “He didn’t say why he was meeting the friend, but he told me he came to Mexico for the surfing.”

Sinking into the chair across from her, he extended his long legs in front of him, crossing his ankles. “How’d he die?”

Lila shot him a look from under her eyelashes. His expressiveness rivaled the Terminator’s. Looked about as hard, too. “I climbed into the back seat to get some sleep, and when I woke up Chad was gone. He’d parked down a gravel access road at the edge of a clump of trees. I had a strange feeling when I woke up, so I crept to the clearing and saw Chad with his hands behind

him and two men questioning him. One had a gun and one had a whip or something. They asked him a question in a foreign language, he answered in the same language, and the one with the gun shot him.”

The man sprang forward, his eyes wide. “You mean, you witnessed Chad’s murder? Did these people see you?”

Was that concern for her? Encouraged by this first sign of emotion other than anger, she answered, “Yeah, I saw everything, but they didn’t see me. I hid behind some bushes.” She tilted her head. “I think Chad saw me though.”

He waited in silence, his muscles perfectly still, but even in repose the man buzzed with activity, a thinly contained restlessness.

Slumping in her chair, she massaged her temples. “After the men killed Chad, two other men came crashing through the bushes, yelling and screaming in Spanish.”

His brows shot up. “Two more men? What happened after that?”

She hunched her shoulders. “I didn’t want to stick around to find out. While I ran back to the car, I heard gunfire and a babble of voices. I got to the car and took off.” She bit her lip. “They probably heard me drive away, but I don’t think they followed me. Too busy shooting at each other.”

He shifted in the chair and ground out, “You don’t think they followed you? That’s rich. You probably led them right to my doorstep.”

He jumped up and peered between the plain white blinds as if expecting to see the two men standing on his deck.

With his back to her, Lila now saw the gun shoved in the waistband of his faded jeans. His damp T-shirt clung to his back, outlining his muscles. Must’ve just gotten out of the shower.

He spoke over his shoulder, “What are you doing here anyway, and why didn’t you call the Federales? Come to think of it, why didn’t you call the U.S. authorities once you crossed the border?”

She took a deep shuddering breath. “Chad left me a note.”

Fumbling in her purse, she withdrew the slip of paper and handed it to him.

He opened it and scanned the contents.

“Chad asked me not to go to the Federales, told me to come straight to you.” She added, “Y-you are Justin Vidal, aren’t you?”

He snorted. “Little late to be asking that question, isn’t it? Yeah, I’m Vidal. This still doesn’t explain why you didn’t call the police when you got across the border. You took a big chance coming here. For all you know, Chad and I could be drug dealers.”

Wrinkling her nose, she said, “Yeah, I thought of that, but Chad didn’t strike me as the drug-dealer type. And, well, I liked him. I wanted to carry out his last wishes. They were his last wishes.”

Her nose stung with tears, and she rubbed it. She did not want to cry in front of this man again. Useless to cry anyway. He seemed immune to her feelings, immune to all feelings, including his own.

He glanced up from the letter, his eyes traveling over her body, as if seeing her for the first time. His gaze left pinpricks of excitement in its wake. Great, she had an insane attraction to a robot.

His lips tightened into a grim smile. “I see.”

Lila folded her arms across her chest. She wasn’t sure what he saw, hopefully it didn’t include her peaked nipples, but she had more of her story to tell. “There’s something else.”

Waving the letter at her, he said, “Go on.”

She cleared her throat. “There’s a dead body in the trunk of Chad’s car. I think it might be that friend he planned to meet.”

The letter fluttered to the floor, as Justin Vidal took a step back, one eyebrow lifted in patent disbelief. He whispered, “What?”

Feeling more than a little satisfied that she’d elicited some solid emotion from the man, she enunciated, “A dead body.”

He growled, “I heard you the first time. I can’t believe you drove across the border with a dead body in the trunk of your car.”

She corrected, “Chad’s car.”

His hand sliced through the air, and she ducked.

“Whatever. What’s it doing there?”

She launched into an explanation of how she’d stopped for gas, checked the trunk to make sure Chad wasn’t concealing anything illegal and discovered the body of a man curled up inside the trunk.

She stood up as she finished. “You see, that’s another reason why I didn’t want to call the authorities. I didn’t want to come under any suspicion.”

“And your actions up to now haven’t been suspicious in the least.”

She shook her head. “I thought you’d be happy I came straight to you.”

She expected a better reception from Justin Vidal than this. She’d just been through hell, and he was treating her like the enemy.

Planting herself in front of him, she wedged her hands on her hips. “I want some answers now. Who are you anyway and who’s Chad and what was he really doing in Mexico?”

“That—” he gripped her arm “—is not important right now. All you have to know is that we’re the good guys. Let’s go see this dead body, if he’s really dead.”

His touch seared her skin. How could such a cold man cause a wave of heat to rush through her body? “Yeah, you’re the good guys. Chad brought me into this mess, and you’ve done nothing but manhandle me since I got here.” She shook off his hand before his scorching touch caused her to melt in a puddle at his feet. “Will you please get off me?”

Those tawny eyes darkened as he dropped her arm. He limped to the front door and, hanging back, gestured her through first.

What was he worried about? He had the gun.

She glanced down at his bare feet. “Why are you limping?”

His lips twisted. “You stomped on my foot.”

Was that supposed to be a smile?

“Sorry.” As she brushed by him out the front door, he recoiled. She rolled her eyes. Man, did he have issues.

They hobbled into the street, empty except for a few cars parked along the side. She led him to Chad’s battered little car and flipped up the trunk. Her mouth fell open as first she stared into the trunk and then turned to Justin Vidal, studying her through narrowed eyes.

Frantically, she plunged into the trunk, clawing at her bags, her diving gear and a tire iron, to no avail.

The dead man was gone.

Chapter Two

“He’s gone.” The woman’s arms flailed in the air as she looked up and down the street, as if expecting her “dead man” to suddenly materialize.

Justin crossed his arms and watched her dive into the trunk again. Chad must’ve been out of his mind picking up this woman. Chad was dead. His throat tightened. Why’d the impulsive fool go it alone? And why did Molina choose that moment to go to Costa Rica?

Chad must’ve discovered something after he placed that call from Mexico City, but the note held no clues unless Chad left him something in the car. Did the woman know more than she’d revealed? Who were the Mexicans who came onto the scene? Were they working with Chad? Chad’s killers would’ve pursued her and killed her—unless they died at the scene themselves.

Trust Chad to involve a woman. He probably slept with her. Chad could just about get any woman to do anything for him after he took her to bed. In their line of work that talent definitely had its uses.

Justin eyed her slender form half buried in the trunk as she clawed through its contents, probably searching for the dead man. Chad always did have good taste in women.

Her head popped up, a tangled mass of blond curls framing her flushed face. “He was in here. I swear.”

He said, “Maybe he wasn’t dead. Maybe he just walked away. Did you see any wounds on the body, any blood? You check his pulse?”

Her deep blue eyes mirrored her confusion. “No, I didn’t want to touch him.”

He shot back, “Then how’d you know he was dead?”

She raked her hand through her hair. “I—I…He was in the trunk,” she finished lamely.

“So?” The woman had about as much sense as a kitten in the rain. He squelched an urge to brush a lock of hair from her eye. The sooner he sent her on her way, the better.

Glancing back down at the gaping trunk now disgorging its contents, she asked, “Why would he be in the trunk otherwise?”

He surveyed the fins, oxygen tank and mask spilling out of the car. Chad didn’t dive. “A man in the trunk of a car close to the U.S.–Mexican border isn’t all that unusual. Maybe he climbed into the trunk when you stopped for food.”

Her brow cleared as she nodded. “I get it. You and Chad aren’t drug smugglers, you’re people smugglers.”

“We are not,” he snapped. Actually, he had a sinking suspicion that the man in the trunk was Chad’s informant. If so, they walked right into a trap. Did the informant somehow escape from the trunk? He had to find him, get information from him.

She smoothed her hands over her face and emerged with a frown tugging at the corners of her full lips. Ever since she’d intruded on his space, her emotions had been galloping across her face in an everchanging kaleidoscope. An unwelcome stab of guilt pricked Justin’s conscience, and an even more unwelcome jolt of desire knotted his gut.

“The less you know about us, the safer it is for you. I’ll help you collect your things from Chad’s car and give you a lift home. Your role in this little drama is over.”

He examined the trunk’s broken lock, which showed signs of tampering. Did the informant escape or did someone follow the woman here and remove him from the trunk? Icy fingers tripped up his spine.

“There’s a trace of blood in here.” As he ran his hands over the inside of the trunk, he heard the rumble of an engine build, its low roar coming closer until tires screeched around the corner. His head shot up. A dark sedan rocketed down the street toward them.

He yelled, “Get down.”

Dragging a bag out of the trunk, she looked up, mouth agape. He tackled her. The car slowed down. He stuffed her under Chad’s car with one hand, reaching for his Glock with the other. A bullet pierced the air, slamming into the curb beside him. He leveled his weapon at the hooded figure leaning out the car window and shot back.

Another bullet whizzed past his ear and clanged against the bumper. The soft body beneath him jerked. He fired once more at the retreating car before it sped around the corner, choking the air with exhaust.

The woman raised her head, her eyes occupying half her face. “Who was that? What’s going on?”

He pulled her up. “Looks like you were followed after all or picked up at the border. Or that’s your dead man taking revenge for his mode of transportation. You okay?”

Before she could answer, a man stepped out on his porch and yelled, “What the hell is going on out here?”

Justin waved his arm. “Just some kids lighting some leftover firecrackers. I chased them off.”

“Damn kids.” The man retreated, banging his screen door behind him.

Still clutching his gun at his side, Justin propelled the woman across the street and into his house. He yanked a duffel bag out of the closet and started shoveling clothes into it.

He said over his shoulder, “We have to get out of here.” Turning, he saw her standing in the middle of the room knotting her hands in front of her.

He had no intention of becoming this woman’s white knight, but he could show her a little courtesy for her trouble. He stopped packing. “Sit down. I’ll get you a soda or something.”

She shot a glance at the window, her breath coming in short spurts. “Will they come back?”

“Not now. They’ll be afraid the gunshots will attract the police, but they won’t stay away for long.” He handed her a can of soda, and she gulped it. He studied her face, its delicate planes creased with anxiety. Damn Chad.

She lifted her eyes to his and the trust shining from them chipped at a hard corner of his heart. “Where are we going?” she asked.

“To safety. Is there anyone expecting you, family, husband?” He held his breath.

Her long, golden lashes swept down to veil her eyes for a moment. “No, I’m not expected back from Mexico for another week.” A grin twisted her lips. “I left early to get a jump on recording my research.”

He returned the grin then finished packing. After dropping his bag by the door, he disconnected his laptop and stowed it in its case. He gave the small house a final glance. He’d have to abandon it, just as he had a few others along the way.

His gaze shifted to the woman on his couch, her feet curled beneath her long tanned legs. She held the can of soda pressed against her cheek, her eyes closed. He realized with a start he didn’t even know her name. How did Chad address her in the letter? Lisa? Lily?

They had a long drive ahead of them, and he had to call her something. “What’s your name?”

She drained the can of soda and answered, “Lila Monroe.” She hesitated. “Justin, why do I have to come with you? Why can’t you just take me home?”

The sound of his name on her lips touched him, and he felt his face shutting down, his barriers rising. He wouldn’t allow himself any messy emotional attachments. He just had a job to do. “We’re not dealing with ordinary criminals here. You don’t want these people discovering who you are, where you live, where your family lives. If I dropped you off at your home now and they followed us, you’d never be safe.”

She breathed out, “I’m scared.”

He stood rooted to the floor, fighting impulses he’d long held at bay. The sincerity of her emotions touched a core within him, a core he guarded and protected with a hardened shell. How had she insinuated herself there so easily?

He picked up his bags. “We need to leave, Lila. You’ll be safe where I’m taking you. Get another soda for the road, and grab one for me, too. We’ll get something to eat along the way.”

Stowing his bags in the bed of his truck along with the camping gear he always kept there, he ordered Lila to climb in the cab and wait. He stole out to Chad’s car, keeping his weapon ready, and grabbed the gear from the open trunk. He swept the contents of the glove compartment into a bag and then loaded everything into his truck.

Lila sat in the passenger seat staring ahead at nothing, her face pale beneath sun-kissed skin. Justin cursed Chad and his lust, not for the first time. It was, however, the last. His breath hitched in his throat.

Starting the engine, he looked at his silent companion. “You ready?”

She closed her eyes and nodded. He expelled a breath, relaxing the muscles of his face. The eyes were supposed to be windows to the soul, and she seemed to peer right into his. The clear blue light from her eyes probed his inner depths, peeling back one layer of his defenses at a time. From the moment she appeared on his doorstep, he felt transparent under her gaze. And worse, she seemed to understand his defects and pity him for them.

Did she realize Chad’s death lay at his door? Justin should’ve been a better mentor, should’ve been more forceful in telling Chad to hold tight until he got down there. He failed Chad just when Chad needed him most. That thought burned behind his eyes until he doused it. Better not go down that road.

After an hour’s sleep, Lila stirred. Those impossible golden curls shielded one half of her face. Her long lashes with their dark tips lay like a curve of velvet on her cheek. Her lips, even in repose, turned up at the corners.

A Pollyanna, that fit her perfectly, trusting, gullible. Fortunately this experience would cure her of that fatal flaw. Better to be on your guard.

She shoved her hair back from her face, blinking rapidly. Looking out the window, she asked, “Where are we?”

He answered, “Heading north on the I-15.”

Turning her head toward him, she said, “The desert?”

“That’s right. Do you mind driving for a while? I need to make a phone call and sort through Chad’s stuff.”

“I can drive, but can we pull over at a rest stop or something? I feel like I’ve just run a marathon, barefoot, and with wild beasts in pursuit.”

His eyes roamed over her lithe body, and his hands itched to follow. He shook his head and laughed. “Looks like one of those wild beasts caught up with you.”

She cocked her head at him. “You have a nice laugh. You should use it more often.”

He gripped the steering wheel. “Not much to laugh at these days.”

“You’re wrong. The world holds a lot of laughter.”

Not his world. He cut off her homily. “There’s a rest area two miles ahead.”

He maneuvered the car off the interstate and pulled in to the parking lot. While Lila slung a small bag over her shoulder and headed for the restrooms, he leaned against the truck facing the highway.

The flat desert landscape offered safety. An occasional Joshua tree reached up to the sky, proclaiming its indomitability against the suffocating desert heat, but most of the plant life crouched in the hot sand, allowing the naked eye to see for miles.

A couple of truckers hogged several parking spaces between them, and a family with three kids ducked in and out of a large cooler, pulling out sandwiches and drinks. Justin’s chest contracted as the father swung the youngest boy up on his shoulders for a trip to the vending machines.

Lila emerged from the restroom, her dusty denim shorts and wrinkled T-shirt replaced by a pair of khaki hiking shorts and a blue tank top, which exposed her toned arms. A tortoiseshell headband swept her hair off her face, although a few of those riotous curls found freedom. As she stood in front of him, he suppressed an urge to capture one of those ringlets and wrap it around his finger.

She held out her hand. “Keys?” He dropped them into her palm and tossed her bag in the back of the truck. He brought his laptop and the bag containing the contents of Chad’s glove compartment into the front.

Adjusting the seat and starting the engine, she asked, “Same direction for a while?”

He nodded and flipped open his cell phone. Someone picked up after two rings.

He recited, “This is Lone Wolf 58634.” Those searching blue eyes skimmed his profile, so he turned to look out the window at the lunarlike landscape.

The voice on the other end responded, “Hi, Justin, this is Prasad. I mean, Warrior Sheikh 28221. What’s the word, my man? When are you going to Mexico?”

Justin took a deep breath. “Sooner than I planned. Chad’s dead.”

Prasad choked out, “How’d it happen?”

“They shot him. Thank God they didn’t do worse. I think he might’ve discovered something. Can’t think why else he’d plow ahead like that without me.”

“Where was Molina?”

“Following a lead in Costa Rica.”

Justin could hear Prasad measuring his words. “Nobody’s going to blame you. We all know how impulsive he is…was. How’d you find out? We haven’t heard a word here.”

Justin slid his eyes over to Lila, concentrating on the road in front of her. She didn’t fool him. She’d been soaking up every word. “He picked up a woman. She witnessed the murder, then hightailed it out of there.”

Prasad gasped and then chuckled. “Figures there’d be a woman in the mix. Is she hot?”

Justin avoided taking inventory of the lovely lady in the driver’s seat and grunted, “Yeah.” He turned up the air-conditioning.

Prasad continued, “How’d she find you?”

“Chad left her a note with my name and address.”

Prasad exclaimed, “And she actually came straight to you instead of the Federales? Wow, Chad must’ve really done a number on her. You gotta admire the guy. I’m glad he went out in a blaze of glory. We should all be so lucky.”

Shifting in his seat, Justin redirected the conversation, telling Prasad the rest of the story about the two Mexicans who arrived on the scene, the missing body in the trunk and the shoot-out in the street.

Prasad whistled. “You’ve had a busy morning, and all I’ve been doing is monitoring a couple of databases. What do you think happened to the guy in the trunk?”

“Not sure. I think he may have been Chad’s informant. They probably met and got ambushed. If he walked away from that trunk, I have to track him down.”

“Yeah, good luck with that. Do you think the Mexicans who showed up on the scene were working with Chad? Did they kill his murderers?”

“Probably and maybe. The witness claims she wasn’t followed, which only makes sense if the killers are dead.”

“Then how’d their associates find your place?”

“They made Chad’s car and picked it up at the border. She’s lucky…” Lila aimed a sharp glance at him and he trailed off.

Prasad asked, “You discover yet what Chad was in such a fever pitch to find down there that it got him killed? Anything to do with this chatter we’re hearing about a terrorist attack on our soil?”

“I don’t know, but I have a computer disk from his car, and I’m going to pop it in my laptop once I get off the phone. One more thing, Prasad, I’m coming in, and I’m bringing the woman with me. I didn’t want to risk taking her home when we might be followed, but you guys can safely drop her back in. They don’t know who she is.”

Prasad assured him they’d be there for the rest of the night and could resettle the witness.

Justin set up his laptop and inserted the disk, ignoring Lila’s penetrating gaze.

She said, “Are you going to tell me who you are now…Lone Wolf?”

He stopped tapping the keyboard. She had a point. She’d been on the express train to hell and back and deserved to know. “You’ve heard of the Department of Homeland Security?”

She waved her tapered fingers. “Of course, the department that brought us color-coded threat levels.”

“Right. We’re a covert offshoot of that department called Homeland Intelligence Agency or ‘hiya’ as we fondly call ourselves.”

Those lovely lips tightened into a smirk. “As in, ‘Hiya, we’re just a bunch of friendly guys and gals’?”

He threw his head back and laughed. “Yeah, something like that. We’re your best friend if you can give us information about terrorists slipping across our borders.”

Her mouth formed a perfect O, which was way too kissable for comfort. “You’re kidding. That’s what Chad was doing in Mexico?”

“Working undercover…disguised as a surfer. Good disguise, huh?”

Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she turned to him. “Yeah, that long blond hair, tanned body, devil-may-care attitude. Perfect disguise.”

Her voice broke, and his gut clenched. Oh, yeah, Chad really did a number on her. Justin left her alone with her grief.

After a few moments and a few sniffles, she tilted her chin toward the laptop. “You find anything yet?”

He’d been scanning the files on the disk, but they contained old news. “No, nothing we hadn’t already gone through together. He called me from Mexico City. Must’ve been a few days before he picked you up. We’ve been searching for a tunnel from Mexico to the U.S., and he made contact with some coyotes down there.”

Her brow creased, and he continued. “The guys who help illegals cross the border. But the illegals we’re after aren’t the ones scrambling to get here to find work. We’re looking for the ones intent on exploding bombs in our shopping malls or on trains or buses.”

She squinted at the asphalt in front of her, chewing her lip. A tunnel? A memory she’d been trying to suppress began solidifying in her mind. Chad kneeling in the dirt. The brutal whip slicing his body. The blood. His long hair swinging back. The gunshot. And before the gunshot? El túnel está aquí.

She jerked the steering wheel, and Justin clutched at the computer. “Hey, watch the road. The highway still kills more people than terrorists do.”

She whispered, “El túnel.”

His eyes glinted as they bored into her. “What did you say?”

She repeated, “Túnel, el túnel está aquí. That’s why he spoke in Spanish. They didn’t understand Spanish. He shouted that to me.”

Justin snapped the laptop shut and turned to her. “Are you telling me Chad yelled out ‘The tunnel is here’ before those men executed him?”

Bobbing her head up and down, she exclaimed, “That’s exactly what I mean. He found this tunnel you’re looking for. It must’ve been right there where they killed him. Maybe he didn’t know that when he wrote me the note. He discovered it, or his contact told him, and they surprised them and killed them.”

His tiger eyes formed two slits as he watched her. Now what? Was he going to get mad at her again? Just when he started to thaw out. He actually laughed…twice.

He spit out, “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

She tossed her hair. “You’re unbelievable. I just solved your case for you, and you’re mad because I didn’t do it sooner.”

He inclined his head and compressed his lips before stating, “You haven’t solved the case, and this is no TV cop show.”

Scowling at him, she said, “I didn’t remember what he said because I’ve been trying to forget what I saw and heard in that clearing.”

The deep lines at the sides of his mouth retreated. “I’m sorry. Thanks for telling me what you remembered, and you’re probably right. He discovered the tunnel, and they discovered him.”

She felt a warm glow. That’s more like it. She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. “How do you think that guy got in the trunk?”

He shrugged his broad shoulders. “The terrorists ambushed them and killed him first before you woke up. What I don’t understand is how they stashed the body in the trunk without waking you up or seeing you.”

She snapped her fingers. “Chad covered me with a blanket. The night was pretty warm and I didn’t remember having a blanket, but when I woke up I was completely covered. Maybe Chad hid me on purpose.”

Clapping her hand over her mouth, she uttered, “Oh my God, what if they had found me in that car?”

He touched her shoulder. A current sizzled from his fingertips to her bare skin. She searched his face to see if he felt it, too.

His amber eyes flickered, and then he drew back. “You must lead a charmed life. Could you find that spot again?”

“Are you letting me in?”

He pressed his back against the truck’s door. “Letting you in?”

The man had more nerve endings than an exposed tooth. She held up one hand. “I mean, are you allowing me to help?”

He relaxed. “If you can get me as close as possible to that spot, that’d be a big help.”

“I think I can do that.” She mentally converted the hours she drove into miles, and remembered the little town where she stopped for food and gas. Yeah, she could give him that.

Then maybe they could get her home, and she could call Mom and Tyler. She’d leave them out of this until the HIA could get her safely back to her apartment in San Diego. Then this strange, bottled-up man could get back to his job alone, and she could get back to her life.

She’d have to start pulling back on the strings that attached her to him. He was a wounded bird if she ever saw one, as damaged as any sea creature she helped to restore to its habitat. He had his own habitat, that sterile house where he took tea with anger and fear. He couldn’t even express sadness at the death of his colleague, even though she could read the pain haunting his eyes. Was he afraid if he let go he’d never find his way back to that barren shore he called a life?

Some people were past saving, better to concentrate on the ones who still had hope. She heard Gareth’s mocking voice whisper, “Sap.” Where he was concerned, she’d been a sap. And in that incident with Adam. She shuddered.

She hadn’t been wrong about Chad, though. In the end, she couldn’t save him, but she’d helped him. Shifting her eyes to the silent man next to her intent on the computer screen, she wondered if she was wrong about him. To save him would be a challenge beyond even her abilities.

They’d been on the road for nearly three hours. The moist ocean breezes of San Diego had long since been replaced by arid gusts that needled their flesh. Justin told her to pull over so he could take over driving duty once more. Before changing places, they stretched their legs outside the truck.

The shimmering heat rose like seaweed from the desert floor. Justin, hands on hips, drilled the horizon with his piercing gaze. He carried himself with the loose-limbed grace of an athlete. He’d deceived her with his strength when he’d yanked her into his house, impressing her as a huge, powerful figure. He had power all right and stood over six feet tall. But even though his body was taut, he was no bulging muscleman.

As if sensing her scrutiny, he turned and grinned. “You ready for the last leg of the trip?” His smile banished all the pain and disillusionment from his face. What put it there?

“Yeah, I’m ready to say ‘hiya’ to hiya.”

He shook his head as he climbed back into the truck. “This heat’s getting to you.”

Their last stop had been in Twentynine Palms where they fueled up and downed a couple of sports drinks along with some sandwiches. Justin promised her a shower and some rest at the HIA facility. She needed both.

They hurtled over the blazing asphalt of Highway 62, leaving Twentynine Palms and civilization in the dust. Justin turned down a road heading south. A gated structure, the color of the encroaching sand, took shape in the glimmering heat.

Lila quipped, “Will you have to kill me after I see the secret compound?”

A shadow passed over his face. “Don’t joke about it.”

They inched up to the gate, and he inserted a key card into a slot. The gate rolled back on squeaking wheels. He parked the truck and stepped out onto concrete, glittering with particles of sand. The facility looked deserted, but most of the agents parked their cars in the back.

His jaw tightened, and a pulse throbbed in his throat. All his senses danced on the head of a pin. He sniffed the air, his nostrils flaring at the faint, acrid odor of gunpowder. Range practice?

Lila chirped, “Is it always so quiet here?”

He felt for the gun he’d just shoved into his gun bag along with his backup and ascended the steps to the entrance. He punched the intercom. No answer. Swiping his sweaty hand across his T-shirt, he flipped open the print reader with his other hand. He pressed his thumb against the reader and said, “Lone Wolf 58634.”

The lock on the gunmetal-gray door clicked. He withdrew a badge and flashed it at the reader. A second click. Shoving the door open, he stepped over the threshold. The familiar whirring and buzzing noises filtered out from the data lab in the back.

Victoria Lang sauntered into the hallway holding a pink-frosted cupcake, an overnight bag slung over one shoulder. “Oh, it’s you. Prasad said you were coming in. Guess we didn’t hear the intercom.”

Justin expelled a breath and eyed the cupcake. Lifting one eyebrow, he asked, “One of your creations?”

Victoria scooped at the icing with a long, manicured fingernail and licked it. “Yeah, it’s Dave’s birthday. There’s more in the back.”

He gestured to her bag. “Are you off?”

She lifted the shoulder with the bag. “I’m leaving tomorrow morning, taking R & R in Vegas for a few days. Is this the witness?”

Before he could answer, she extended a sticky hand to Lila. “I’m Victoria Lang. Glad you came forward.”

Justin made a terse introduction. “This is Lila.” Victoria didn’t need to know Lila’s last name. Nobody did.

Lila said, “I don’t think I had a choice.”

Victoria shook her head so that her sleek black hair rippled over her shoulders. “We all have choices. Looks like Chad made a dumb one.”

Justin clenched his teeth. Was she blaming him for Chad’s failure? She couldn’t blame him any more than he blamed himself. “He was on the scent.”

Waving her cupcake in the air, Victoria said, “Yeah, yeah, but you’d never put anyone else in danger, Justin, except maybe yourself.”

He asked, “Anyone hear from Molina yet?”

She lifted her dark sculpted brows. “Nope. You think he’d know about Chad’s death. They were partners down there, albeit reluctant ones.”

Prasad joined them in the hallway, his face drawn and too gaunt for a man his age.

Justin nodded to the younger man. “You okay?”

Prasad shrugged thin shoulders that masked a tensile strength. “I can’t say I’m surprised. Chad always did take more risks than anyone else.”

The “except you” hung in the air.

Justin brushed it away with the sweep of his arm. “You learn from his mistakes and go on, but it can happen to any one of us, even you, Warrior Sheikh.”

Victoria snorted. “You still using that code name, Prasad? Dream on.”

He countered, “Yeah, okay, Amazon Goddess.”

“Wow, would you be S.O.L. if you were out in the field and needed assistance from me? I’ll have you know, I’m now Lady Hawk.”

Dropping a curve of long dark lashes over one eye, she winked at Lila and said, “Our boss has an exaggerated flair for the dramatic.”

Justin grumbled, “Or the ridiculous.” He gestured toward Lila, “Prasad, this is Lila, the witness I told you about.”

Lila’s cheeks grew pink under Prasad’s scrutiny, and Justin stepped between them. Prasad didn’t need to know any details, either. Justin asked, “Is Leo in?”

Victoria answered, “No, he hasn’t been around much. Phones in from San Diego, gives us orders. You know Leo.”

Justin knew his boss hankered after a promotion. More office work. More money. Less danger. Hell, the man had a family, two teenagers ready to start college soon. He deserved a breather.

Prasad said, “I called him about Chad. The news hit him hard.”

“Leo always has his favorites.” Victoria directed a pointed glance at Justin.

He turned his back on her. Leo had been his mentor in the early days, but Justin didn’t need him now. Just complicated things, like Justin’s own mentoring relationship with Chad and Prasad complicated things. His own father had failed as a role model, so what business did he have trying to guide others?

They all walked together into the data lab where three agents tapped away at keyboards in front of computer screens with one hand, balancing cupcakes in the other. They looked up at Justin’s entrance and crowded around him to glean the details of Chad’s murder.

He revealed only the basics as he intercepted Lila’s puzzled look and finished, “Lila’s going to show me the site of Chad’s execution on the interactive map in the back and I’ll go down to Mexico in the next few days to check it out.”

Dave, the birthday boy, asked, “So you think they followed her?”

Justin replied, “Haven’t figured that out yet, but if the Mexicans killed the two dirtbags who murdered Chad, their accomplices probably waited for Chad’s car at the border.” He felt Lila tense by his side and all his nerve endings tingled with a desire to touch her, smooth away the worry lines between her eyebrows.

He steepled his fingers and shot her a look from beneath his eyelids. “She needs to get home safely. Maybe a helicopter ride into Lindbergh Field.” She’ll be safe and I’ll be safe. The thought nibbled at the edges of his mind. Ridiculous.

Dave shoved his glasses back up his nose and pressed, “Are we debriefing her here? Did Chad say anything before he died?”

Justin quelled the agent’s curiosity with a cold glance from narrowed eyes. “I already did that. Chad said nothing.”

Dave stepped back, holding up his hands. “All right. Enough said.”

Before Justin took Lila to the navigation room, Prasad announced, “I’m going into Twentynine Palms for rations to get us through the rest of the night. Anyone need anything?”

Dave protested, “Hey, it’s not your turn. It’s my turn to go in. You just want to see Janet.”

Victoria explained, “Prasad met a cute Japanese woman who works at the shopping center in Twentynine Palms. A Muslim who practices Islam and a Buddhist. We keep telling him it’s doomed.”

Prasad laughed. “Lust conquers all.”

He began taking orders for beef jerky, microwave popcorn and lattes while Justin and Lila retreated to the back room. A long night loomed ahead of them all.

As he punched the code in for the door, Lila asked, “Is that it? Just the six of you?”

“It varies, depending who’s out in the field. The team’s bigger but some of the agents are on assignment. Danny Molina and I are stationed in Mexico right now. Chad was, too.”

“Why weren’t you down there with him?”

He shoved the door open. “Personal business.”

As they entered the lab, Lila stared, wide-eyed, at the collection of satellite images on the screens around the room. Justin pointed out Afghanistan, Iraq, Pakistan and Indonesia before leading her to a lighted map of Mexico.

He handed her the pointer. “If you touch the screen with the pointer and then touch another spot twice quickly, the number of miles between the two distances will flash. Or I can switch it to minutes.”

She held the pointer between two fingers. “Cool.”

“If you press down on a point on the map, the name of the town will flash on the screen, or the name of the nearest town and the distance.”

She caught her full lower lip between her teeth and studied the map. Talking to herself, she said, “Let’s see, I got to the border at around eight o’clock, stopped for forty-five minutes in Loma Vista before that.”

He leaned in, watching her pore over the map. Her musky scent, a combination of tangy salt and stale lilac, enfolded him, weaving a silky web around him. He stepped back to break the threads.

She needed to get home, back to her family and friends. He knew instinctively she had lots of friends. Her warmth would draw people to her, grateful to be included in the glow that floated around her like a cape. God, he was losing it.

She murmured, “I think the site is around this area. It’s south of this little town, Loma Vista. Some dense foliage marked the spot. The rest of the way to Loma Vista was pretty bare.”

Blinking his eyes, he focused on the map where she circled with the wand.

“I can’t be absolutely sure until I see the place again. It was dark, and I was sleeping when we got there and terrified when I left.”

Drawing in closer, he noted the general location but didn’t write it down. He frowned. “Are you sure this is the place?”

She nodded. “I’m figuring it out by hours not miles, and I’m sure I stopped in Loma Vista and it took me another forty-five minutes to the border. Why?”

Scratching his chin, he said, “It seems kind of far from the border to be tunneling in. I expected something closer to the border itself.”

He flipped a switch to erase the entire transaction. “At least it gives me a starting point.”

Handing him the pointer, she asked, “Why didn’t you tell your colleagues out there about the tunnel?”

He shrugged. “It’s only a supposition right now. Something Chad and I worked on, nobody else, except Molina, and I’m not sure how far Chad took him into his confidence.”

She sighed. “I thought government agencies were supposed to be working together now—”

“Shh.” He held up his hand.

She started to speak, and he hissed, “Quiet.”

A hollow puff. A soft thud. A quick footstep.

He prowled toward the door of the navigation room, lifted a chair and lodged it under the door handle.

Her eyes round with fear, a sickly pallor soaking into her skin, Lila choked out, “What’s wrong?”

He spun toward her, regretting his next words. “The facility’s been compromised.”

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