Caught in the Act (11 page)

She realized that she was sitting on the counter, one knee bent, with her dress hiked up to the tops of her thighs. He hadn’t averted his eyes, either. “Are you trying to look up my skirt, Officer Cortez?”

“It’s Adam,” he reminded her. “And yes.”

She drew in a sharp breath. Although the door was open, the space in the bathroom was cramped and she couldn’t straighten her knee without brushing it against the front of his jeans. She was very aware of her body in relation to his. Sensuality hummed between them. Her hair was damp from the dousing he’d given her, tendrils clinging to her neck. The front of her dress was wet, too. Her nipples tightened against the cups of her bra.

For modesty’s sake, she should rearrange her skirt or cross her arms over her chest. But she didn’t want to. She had a shocking urge to lift her dress up higher, to pull him closer. She wanted his hands on her skin, his eyes on her breasts. She longed to feel the buttons of his fly against the cleft of her sex.

Anticipating his taste, she moistened her lips.

His eyes locked on her mouth, and he wrapped his hand around her ankle, taking her foot off the top of the sink. Letting her leg slide down the outside of his, he skimmed his fingertips along her calf, hooking his hand
behind her knee. She shivered, tingling at the contact. He moved between her splayed thighs, right where she wanted him. She twined her arms around his neck and tilted her head back, giddy with excitement.

Just before his lips touched hers, she caught a flash of movement in the storeroom.

Maria.

She gasped, shying away from his mouth.

“What are you doing?” Maria asked, sounding shocked.

Adam was just as startled by the interruption, and twice as annoyed. He stepped back, cursing under his breath.

Kari hopped down from the counter and left the bathroom in a hurry, trying not to rub against him on the way out. She could feel heat and tension coming off him in waves. “I cut my foot and he was … helping me.”

Adam didn’t corroborate the story. He was obviously aroused and hadn’t recovered enough to turn around yet.

Maria frowned. “Are you okay?”

“Of course,” Kari said, her cheeks hot. “There was a lot of blood to wash up.”

“Washing up,” Adam muttered, slamming the bathroom door.

Kari hobbled toward Maria, lowering her voice to a whisper. “Why are you here?”

“I took a lunch break,” she said. “What happened?”

“My store got vandalized last night.”

Maria’s eyes widened with dismay. “Was it bad?”

“Not too bad. We just painted over the graffiti.”

When Adam came out of the bathroom a moment later, Kari didn’t know what to say. It was incredibly
awkward, juggling her would-be lovers. Maria draped her arm around Kari in a possessive manner, glaring at Adam. “I’m so sorry,
mi amor
,” she said, stroking her damp hair. “I will kiss it better.”

Kari almost died from embarrassment. Maria’s breath fanned her cheek and their bodies were plastered together, full length. But she couldn’t tear her gaze away from Adam. He stared back at her, looking somewhere between jealous and intrigued. Like he didn’t know if he wanted to pull them apart or watch them go at it.

“I have to leave,” he said, shaking his head in regret.

“Thanks for helping me,” Kari said.

“Yeah.” He rubbed a hand over his mouth, as if trying to recapture their almost-kiss. “See you later.”

Maria stopped petting her as soon as he was gone. “Was that okay? I didn’t know how much gay to be.”

Kari sank into a chair and buried her head in her arms.

“I don’t think this is working. He still likes you. What were you doing with him in the bathroom?”

“We were this close to kissing,” she said, her thumb and forefinger an inch apart.

“You are not a good lesbian,” Maria informed her.

“I know,” Kari groaned.

“Are you mad at me for interrupting?”

“No,” she said, smoothing her disheveled hair. “I’m glad you came. For all I know, he’s investigating me, or snooping for Moreno. And even if he’s not, I can’t get involved with a police officer right now.” She glanced at Maria, feeling dazed. “This is madness.”

“He will not give up,” Maria said.

“What makes you say that?”

“The way he looked at you. At us. He wanted me to disappear!”

Kari flushed, picturing the scene they’d made. She wasn’t sure that Adam wanted Maria to disappear. He probably would have been amenable to letting her stay. “I’ll have to do a better job at discouraging him.”

Maria took the seat across from her. “Something happened at the hotel.”

Her stomach tightened with unease. She’d been too wrapped up in her own drama to notice that Maria appeared shaken. Her baseball cap was missing, her long black hair hanging down her back. “What?”

“Chuy warned me,” she said. “If you talk to your sister again, they will do bad things. To your store, your house … you.”

Kari swallowed dryly, feeling ill. After seeing the vandalism she’d known they meant business, but she hadn’t stopped to consider Maria’s welfare. “Did he hurt you?”

“No,” she said, looking away.

“Where’s your hat?”

She lifted her hand to her head. “I don’t know. I will try to find for you.”

“I don’t care about the hat, Maria. You shouldn’t go back there.”

“Today is payday,” she said, stubborn.

“If he touched you—”

“He didn’t get the chance. The man from
la migra
was there, and he started a fight with Armando. I got away.”

“Who’s Armando?”

“Chuy’s partner.”

“What about next time?”

“Next time I will not get caught. Chuy was angry with me for … 
como se dice?
Trying to listen to them.”

Kari gaped at her, incredulous. “You were eavesdropping?”

“Yes. I heard them say something about Tuesday. New drugs coming in.”

“That’s the day I go to Mexico,” she murmured, her eyes filling with tears. “What am I going to do?”

Maria’s expression softened with sympathy. Instead of giving Kari answers, she offered her support, putting an arm around her trembling shoulders and murmuring words of comfort while she cried.

Adam came home from work in the wee hours of Saturday morning, dead tired.

He still didn’t know what to think about Kari. If she was a drug smuggler, she was doing a damned fine job of fooling him. And an even better job of appealing to him on every level. There was something about her, a sweetness he couldn’t resist. He’d anticipated a sexual attraction, but he hadn’t expected to
like
her.

As he pulled into the garage, he noticed a strange presence at his doorstep, a figure slumped over in the dark. Ian. Adam wondered what had brought his friend back again so soon. It was unusual for him to visit while he was on assignment. They went weeks, sometimes months, without seeing each other.

Adam locked his car and left the garage, approaching the lump on his doorstep with caution. Ian was leaning against the side of the house, dozing. Always a light sleeper, he startled awake before Adam reached out to
nudge him. The hood of his jacket slipped down, revealing his misshapen face, grotesque in the moonlight.

Adam swore under his breath. “What happened?”

Ian lumbered to his feet, with help from Adam. His left eye was swollen shut and dark with bruises. But he just shrugged, playing it cool.

“Do you need to go to the ER?”

“No, I’m good.”

“Come on,” Adam muttered, unlocking the front door and watching him limp inside. He went straight to the refrigerator, grabbing a bag of frozen peas. “The DEA can’t afford ice packs?”

Ian accepted the bag with a wry smile. “I had one. It melted.”

“You need painkillers?”

He put the peas over his eye. “Yeah.”

Adam went to the medicine cabinet and shook out a few tablets, over-the-counter stuff. He’d offer something stronger, but he knew Ian wouldn’t take it. He handed him the pills and a glass of water, grimacing. “What’s the damage?”

Ian took the bag away from his face long enough to swallow the painkillers. “I think I have some cuts on my back.”

Adam gestured toward the bathroom, resigned to playing doctor again. Only Ian wasn’t half as pretty a patient as Kari. When he pulled his T-shirt over his head, Adam’s gut clenched in sympathy. “Jesus, man.”

Ian turned, trying to check out his back in the mirror. There were a couple of shallow lacerations and some serious bruises. “Am I that fucked up?”

“Nah,” Adam said, finding the antiseptic. “You look like shit, though.”

Ian smoothed a hand over his stomach, which was washboard flat. He had always been lanky, and now he really fit the description of an addict. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on him. “I could use a plate of your sister’s enchiladas,” he admitted.

Adam dabbed at Ian’s scratches with a soaked cloth. “Yeah, well. Maybe you should have married her.”

Ian tensed, either from the sore subject or from his stinging wounds. They rarely discussed his fling with Raquel—it was ancient history. Adam didn’t know why he’d brought it up. Frowning, he finished tending to Ian’s back and gave him a clean T-shirt.

“Thanks,” Ian said.

They went back to the kitchen, where Ian sat down and Adam heated up some soup. “What are you doing here?” he asked, studying Ian’s puffy eye. He wouldn’t have shown up like this unless he was in trouble.

Ian took a few spoonfuls of soup and pushed the bowl aside. “I got in a scrape with a target,” he said, rubbing his bruised jaw. “I’d rather not make a big deal of it.”

“You mean you’d rather not report it?”

After a brief hesitation, he nodded.

“Why?”

“There was a girl …”

Adam took a seat at the table, cursing silently. He already knew where this was going, and he didn’t like it.

“I was outside with a secondary,” Ian continued. “My primary dragged her into a secluded location, against her will.”

“You couldn’t leave and call for backup?”

“Not in time to help her.”

“Shit,” Adam muttered, understanding the dilemma.

“The other guy was staring me down, spoiling for a fight. He’d warned me away from this girl before.”

“Why would he do that?”

“I was looking at her.”

“She’s pretty?”

“Very.”

“Go on.”

“I got this feeling that he didn’t like what was happening. But he couldn’t step up, either. So I just tackled him.”

“Jesus, Ian.”

“Yeah. He fought hard, obviously.”

“Was he armed?”

“He always carries a knife.”

“You’re lucky he didn’t shank you.”

Ian nodded. “The target came out to break it up, and the girl got away.”

“How did
you
get away?”

“I told him the other guy was taunting me. We both pretended like the fight had nothing to do with the girl. He bought it.”

“Are you sure?”

“No. But I’m a good customer, so maybe he cut me some slack.”

Adam leaned back in his chair, mulling the story over. “Okay, but why not report it? You took a gamble and it paid off. The girl is safe.”

“If I make a report, my judgment will be questioned. I’ll be taken out of the field for a psych eval and a physical exam. Maybe even reassigned.”

Adam glanced at Ian, wondering if that would be for the best. He didn’t say it, because he knew his friend had
worked hard to get close to these guys. Ian wouldn’t give up before he brought them down.

“There’s another complication,” Ian admitted.

“What?”

“The girl … I know her.”

Adam straightened in his chair. “You know her?”

“It’s Maria Santos. From El Caracol.”

“No way.”

“I’m sure of it.”

“You’re crazy,” he said, refusing to believe him. “Her face was bruised and battered when you found her.”

“The swelling went down after a few days. I recognized her.”

He searched Ian’s good eye, trying to assess his mental acuity. Undercover work had a way of messing with your mind, eating away at your soul. Adam knew that from experience. “Did she recognize you?”

“I doubt it.”

“This is why you stepped in, isn’t it? You’ve always been bugshit over that girl. You left CBP, quit Border Patrol—”

“I hated that job, Adam.”

“And you like this one? You enjoy living in a dump, looking like a bum?”

“Do
you
enjoy destroying people’s dreams? Keeping families apart?”

“Fuck you,” Adam said tiredly. “Fuck you if you think you’re doing something more honorable than I am.”

Ian went back to his bowl of soup, finishing it with swift, angry motions.

“If this girl from El Caracol remembers you, you’re done. She could blow your cover at any moment.”

“Thanks for the heads-up,” Ian said, his voice laced with sarcasm. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“You can’t keep this a secret, Ian. You’re endangering yourself and the investigation.”

Drops of broth clung to his goatee, proving that his manners had become just as raw as his appearance. “Are you really going to lecture me on rules and procedures?” he asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Why shouldn’t I?”

“Because you’re the sneakiest bastard on CBP,” he said, rising to his feet. “And now you’re a fucking hypocrite, too.”

Adam stood and walked over to the fridge, annoyed. Ian was pissing him off, but he had a point. He grabbed a beer for himself and a soda for Ian, making a peace offering. “Kari’s store got vandalized last night.”

“Whose store?”

“Kari Strauss’s. She owns Zócalo, on E Street.”

Ian popped open the soda. “You’ve been watching her?”

Adam nodded. He might be a sneaky bastard and a hypocrite, but he couldn’t lie to his best friend.

“I’ve seen her before,” Ian admitted. “She’s nice-looking.”

Adam took a pull on his beer, thinking about her smooth, tanned legs. “Yes, she is.” He’d seen a glimpse of her panties today, purple with little flowers. He’d have given anything to get inside them. “I think she has a girlfriend.”

Ian almost choked on his soda. “Really?”

Adam smiled, taking his beer to the couch. Ian followed close behind, eager to hear the rest. “I helped her
paint over the graffiti this morning, and she cut her foot on some glass. We were in the bathroom, cleaning her up, and she was giving me these … signals, you know. Like she wanted more than a Band-Aid.”