Against the Law (26 page)

She was far more than a client or a woman he had taken to bed. He was crazy about her, maybe even a little in love with her, just like Montez said.

His stomach knotted painfully. How had he let it get this far? How could he have been such a fool?

It isn't too late,
he told himself. If he was careful, if he set things on a more even course, he could protect himself.

“You're right,” he said gruffly. “It's better for both of us if we keep our relationship strictly business from here on out. I mean, we're friends. More than friends, but that's all it can ever be.”

She tried to smile, but her bottom lip trembled. “I know.” She tipped her head toward the door. “Do you think it's too late to join the others in that little café? I think…I think I'm hungry after all.”

It was a lie and they both knew it. Neither of them was hungry—at least not for food.

“It's not too late,” Dev said. But leaving was the last thing he wanted. Taking Lark to bed was what he wanted to do.

He walked over to the closet, reached up on the shelf as far back as he could and pulled out his Browning
9 mm. Stuffing it into the back of his jeans, he let his shirt fall over it, hiding it out of sight.

“Ready?” he asked as he pulled open the door.

Lark nodded.

But she didn't seem any more ready to leave than he was.

L
ark rode next to Dev in Jake's Jeep toward the big wrought-iron gate in front of Ricardo de La Guerra's huge Spanish-style home. Her heart was pounding and her mouth felt dry. She told herself to relax, that this man wasn't Alvarez. If he didn't like what they had to say, he wasn't just going to shoot them.

She forced herself to sit back against the seat, tried to focus on the breeze rushing through her hair. Earlier that morning, Dev and Jake had driven the roads in the hilly neighborhood so they would know their way around in case of trouble. When it was time to leave for the meeting, Dev had driven directly from the motel without a hitch.

She surveyed her surroundings as they drew near. The house and grounds, though walled and gated, weren't as remote as those belonging to Antonio Alvarez. There were other homes along the road that wound up the hill. But the big Spanish-style mansion on several private
acres looking out over the city was by far the most impressive.

Dev stopped the Jeep in front of the gate and a guard dressed in a perfectly tailored beige uniform walked out of the gatehouse up to the driver's side door.

“May I help you?” he asked politely in Spanish.

“I'm Devlin Raines,” Dev replied in the same language. “The lady is Lark Delaney. Senor de La Guerra is expecting us.”

The guard walked back inside the gatehouse and picked up a phone to let the security people in the main house know they were coming, then the big iron gate slowly swung open.

“It's lovely,” Lark said, her gaze going to the huge two-story, tile-roofed mansion built in a U-shape on top of the hill. Several guesthouses in the same Spanish style sat a little behind and off to one side of the house. The grounds were verdant and perfectly groomed. Palm trees and lush foliage lined both sides of the wide, paved driveway.

As they pulled up in front of the house, a heavyset man with a thick bulge under his arm—a weapon barely disguised by his jacket—walked up to the Jeep to greet them. Dev repeated in Spanish what he had told the guard at the gate.

“There is supposed to be three of you.” Dressed in the same beige uniform, the man looked from Dev to Lark. “Where is the child?”

“There is only the two of us,” Dev said firmly. “Please take us to Senor de La Guerra.”

The guard cast a long, assessing glance at Lark, who, dressed in tan slacks and a turquoise blouse, looked not
the least bit threatening. He hesitated only a moment, then stepped back so that they could climb out of the Jeep.

Another uniformed man came forward as Dev lifted his arms and was thoroughly searched for any sort of weapon. The guard pulled the satellite phone out of Dev's pocket and shoved it into his own. The guns they had used in the raid had been unloaded from the Jeep and now sat in a canvas bag on the floor in Jake and Johnnie's motel room. Dev's gun rested under the seat of the Jeep.

“You will please follow me.”

Lark felt Dev's hand at her waist, guiding her up the wide tile steps to the ornate wooden doors. The guard opened the door and they stepped into a two-story entry lined with beautifully painted terra-cotta vases sitting on dark wooden pedestals.

Lark's palms felt damp. They were there, inside de La Guerra's home. Now all they had to do was convince him. The thought made her stomach churn.

Another man walked toward them, this one dressed in white slacks and a short-sleeve, maroon-and-white print shirt. He was maybe a little past forty, his black hair combed back from an unremarkable face, except for his high, carved cheekbones and deep-set black eyes.

He spoke to the guard, who handed him Dev's satellite phone, then turned in their direction. “I am Alejandro Castillo,” he said in English. “I work for the don. He awaits you in his study. It is just down the hall.”

She was surprised they were all so polite. Even after
what Dev had told her, she had expected mannerless ruffians, the cliché of a collection of drug dealers.

Castillo led them down a red-tiled hallway whose walls were lined with exquisite paintings in heavy wooden frames. She recognized a Degas and a Diego Rivera and wondered how much drug money the don had paid to buy them. In the distance down the hall, a young woman dressed in a white blouse and black skirt covered by a white ruffled apron scurried, broom in hand, around the corner.

As they moved along the corridor, she caught a glimpse of the living room, polished hardwood floors, colorful rugs and lovely Spanish antiques. Castillo arrived in front of the study, lifted the iron latch and opened the heavy wooden door.

“Your guests have arrived, Don Ricardo.”

“Show them in, please, and I would like you to stay, Alejandro.”

Castillo straightened, made a polite bow of his head. “As you wish.”

De La Guerra waited as they walked into the study, which was furnished with heavy carved tables and chairs and a huge oak desk. An oak-mantled fireplace opened in front of a leather seating area near the corner. Bright striped serapes draped over the back of the leather sofa.

Lark's gaze went to the man with the iron-gray hair and intense black eyes. He was only a little taller than average, but his shoulders were wide, his waist flat and trim. He was an attractive man in a hard, weathered way, and immaculately dressed in cream-colored slacks and
a blue silk shirt. She recognized his expensive shoes as Dior.

The don wasn't a large man and yet there was something about him that made him seem so.

His dark gaze went from Lark to Dev. “Where is the child? My instructions were for you to bring her with you.” His English was even more polished than Castillo's.

“My daughter is only four years old,” Lark answered before Dev could reply. “I don't know you, Señor de La Guerra. I refuse to bring my daughter into a situation where she might not be safe.”

One of his gray eyebrows went up. “You come into my home and insult me?”

“No, I—”

“The child was recently abducted from her home,” Dev explained. “She has just been returned to her mother. It's natural for Ms. Delaney to worry about her safety.”

“So she remained with your friends at the Hotel Barranca.”

Lark felt the blood draining out of her face.

“You think I did not know? You are in my world now, Señorita Delaney. I know everything that goes on in my world.” He motioned for them to take a seat on the sofa then came to stand in front of them. Light streaming in through a window flashed on the heavy ruby ring he wore on his right hand. On the left, a simple gold wedding band was worn smooth by age.

“You need not fear for your child,” he said. “I do not harm children. I have three of my own.” He sat down in
a chair at the end of the sofa and Castillo took the seat at the opposite end.

“I admire your courage in coming here,” de La Guerra continued, “even more so since you did not follow my wishes. But I see your point. Perhaps it was an unfair request of a woman so recently become a mother.”

Lark's gaze sharpened on his face. So he knew Chrissy wasn't her biological child. She wondered how much more he knew. A good deal, she imagined. The man wore an air of confidence like a comfortable shirt.

“Why don't you tell me a little about why you are here,” de La Guerra said to her.

Lark flicked a glance at Dev, whose subtle nod urged her to begin. “My little girl's name is Chrissy. She was my sister's child. Recently, my sister passed away.”

“I am sorry.”

“Thank you.” Lark went on to explain how Heather had been forced to give up her baby when she was only a teen. How her dying wish was to know her little girl had been adopted by a loving family. Lark told him how they had searched and finally found the adoptive parents, but that same day the Wellers were murdered by Antonio Alvarez.

“Weller was laundering money for Alvarez,” Dev put in. “Apparently the man was stealing.”

“Go on.”

Lark told him how Chrissy's nanny had hidden her in a closet and saved her life.

“But Alvarez wasn't satisfied with the carnage he'd left behind,” she continued. “His men broke into my home and abducted the child. With Mr. Raines's help
we were able to rescue her, but Alvarez won't stop until we're dead. I'll do whatever it takes to protect my daughter. We're hoping you will be willing to help.”

She could feel her heart beating frantically inside her chest. She prayed he wouldn't see how desperate she really was.

“And by ‘helping' you mean getting rid of Alvarez.”

“That's right,” Dev said. “We know Alvarez has been trying to gain control of the El Dorado cartel for years. So far you've been able to stop him, but the price in men and money has been high. You'd like to get rid of the man for good, but Alvarez keeps himself surrounded by an army of soldiers and so far you haven't been able to get to him.”

“Why am I to believe that has changed?”

“Ms. Delaney mentioned the rescue we made, a raid we carried out on Alvarez's compound.”

“Yes, I know of it. A very bold move. Alvarez was beside himself with rage.”

Lark suppressed a shiver.

“During the assault,” Dev continued, “we uncovered certain information, including the exact location Alvarez can be found this weekend. I believe this is the chance you've been waiting for. And once he's been dealt with, Ms. Delaney and her little girl will be safe.”

“And perhaps you, as well, Mr. Raines.”

“That's right. Once Alvarez finds out I was the man who led the raid, it's certain he'll come after me.”

The don turned the heavy gold-and-ruby ring on his finger. “You were successful against him once. Why not handle the job yourself?”

“I'd like nothing better. Unfortunately, one of my men was wounded in the raid. Another is seeing to his care so I don't have the manpower I had before. On top of that, our assault was well planned. We had plenty of ammo, air power. That is not the case now. We need help this time. That's why we're here.”

The don leaned back in his chair, slowly turning the ring on his finger. “I would need to know more details. If I were to put my men at risk.”

Dev leaned forward. “We have a man at the location, checking to be certain Alvarez's plans haven't changed. Once I receive word from him—and if you agree—I can give you all the information you need.”

De La Guerra stood up from his chair and Castillo rose, as well. “Then we shall wait for your phone call.”

Castillo walked over and handed Dev back his satellite phone.

“In the meantime and for the next several days while we are working this out,” the don said, “you will remain here as my guests. Once you receive word, we will talk again.”

Lark shot up from the sofa. “I can't stay here. What about Chrissy? I can't just leave her. She's been abandoned too many times already. I have to go back.”

De La Guerra's dark gaze fixed on her face. “You are right, of course. My men will return you to the hotel. You can pick up the child and bring her here. As I have told you, your daughter is in no danger. The three of you will stay in the guesthouse. Tonight we will all have supper together. By then we should know if we are to become business partners.”

Lark studied de La Guerra's hard, handsome face. For whatever reason, she didn't believe he meant to hurt them. She flicked a glance at Dev, read the grudging agreement in his expression. “All right, we accept your invitation.”

“Alejandro will drive you. Room two-fifteen, I believe.”

Dev's jaw tightened. “I'll go. I need to speak to my men, tell them what's going on.”

“Tell them also,” de La Guerra said, “that should we decide to move forward, I will expect their assistance. This is a mutual problem. If we are to solve it, we will do so together.”

Dev made no comment, but she recognized the look on his face and it meant he wasn't pleased.

He cast Lark a glance. “You'll be all right till I get back?”

“I'll be fine.” She hoped so, at any rate.

“I won't be gone long.”

“In the meantime,” de La Guerra said, “I shall introduce Ms. Delaney to my wife, Dolores.” For the first time he smiled. “She is eager to meet you. She is quite fond of your LARK handbags.”

With absolutely no idea why, Lark felt a ridiculous sweep of relief.

 

Montez called as Dev rolled the Jeep into the motel parking lot. He'd been allowed to go after Chrissy on his own. But de La Guerra knew exactly where to find him and both of his men. And he held a very lovely hostage.

Dev pulled the sat phone out of his pocket, flipped it open and pressed it against his ear. “What have you got?”

“Alvarez is coming,” Montez said. “He is bringing the woman, just as he planned. The hotel staff is working like a hive of bees to prepare the presidential suite.”

“De La Guerra hasn't agreed yet, but I think he will. Unfortunately, I've got a bad feeling he's going to insist we be there when the hit goes down.”

“Is that so?”

“He wants Riggs and Cantrell in on the assault but they've done more than their share already. I'm sending them back to the States.”

“Not gonna happen, bro.”

Dev looked up to see Cantrell looming over him.

Dev shook his head at the determined look on Jake's face and returned the phone to his ear. “What else?”

“Alvarez's plane is supposed to land at the airport eleven o'clock tomorrow morning. The hotel limousine will be picking him up. He has asked for only one car, which means he will be bringing only a handful of men. But there are bound to be more, men he pays to protect him once he reaches the hotel.”

“De La Guerra needs to hit him before he gets there. That doesn't give us much time.”

“It will have to be enough.”

“That it?”

“For now.”

Jake took the phone from Dev's hand. “Riggs and I are on our way. I'll call you as soon as we get in.” Jake hung up the phone.