Authors: Tamara Hunter
“She’s pretty, eh?”
Carlos registered the inquisitive tone in Alfonso’s voice
but didn’t respond. Carlos had escaped Alfonso and Ava’s attempts to set him up
over the years, and he wasn’t about to cave now. But the idea of Trella on a
date sent a rush of irritation over him.
“Do I need to warn Ava about your interest?” He joked with
Alfonso.
“Plenty of men would want to go out with her. What do you
think?”
“About the security system?” Carlos deliberately
misunderstood.
“Avoiding the question doesn’t make it go away,
hijo
.”
“I’m not interested.”
The older man pursed his lips for a second. “Is she
interested in you?”
I
wish
. Carlos threw up his hands in defeat.
“Not at all, and she’s perfectly capable of dating whoever interests her.”
“Guess you’re not her type then.”
The words “how do you know” danced on his tongue, but he
didn’t utter them. Despite his unwillingness to be drawn into further
discussion about Trella, a question ripped from his throat.
“What’s her type?” Carlos rubbed the back of his neck. He
wasn’t interested in Alfonso’s theory about the type of man Trella would be
interested in. It was none of his business. He tightened his jaw. He was
leaving for Vegas tonight.
Five seconds ticked by. Alfonso said nothing.
“What’s her type?” Carlos ground out the words.
Alfonso calmly packed up his tools. “Someone who’s
interested in her, and it’s not you.”
Sighing, Carlos ran his hands over his head, realizing the
other man had played him. “I have an uncomplicated life. I travel often. No
woman is interested in a man who doesn’t have time to dote on her.”
“You have a point, but Trella isn’t any woman. She didn’t
mind being married to a detective.”
Carlos scrubbed a hand down his face. He’d never win.
“Whenever she decides to date again, I’m sure she’ll be selective.” He decided
to change the subject. “What do you know about Hector Rodriguez?”
“The councilman?” Alfonso snorted. “He would sell his soul
for money.”
“My impression, as well. What have you heard about his
Immigrant Work Program?”
Alfonso released a string of curses. “Fancy name for
charging outrageous fees for smuggling people.” Alfonso’s words corroborated
Louis’ notes.
“You sure?”
The older man nodded. “The people he supposedly helps end up
light in the pocket, and the ones who can’t afford to pay end up working for
him by doing whatever he asks.”
“Blackmail?”
“And selling women.” Alfonso shrugged. “It’s what I hear.
The man’s a snake. I wouldn’t put anything past him.”
Carlos tightened his jaw. Had Louis confronted Rodriguez?
And if he did, had he been killed to silence him?
From his office window, Hector watched Trella’s progress
across the parking lot. That husband of hers must have shared his suspicions.
Too bad they would end with her. His operation lasted only because he didn’t
allow loose ends.
He’d have to be on his best behavior if he intended to
discern what she knew. Afterward, he’d get rid of her. He knew how to make it
look clean. Her death would be unsolved…just like her husband’s was.
He stroked his cock through his slacks as he watched her
climb into the car, revealing a flash of toned leg. She’d divulge what he
wanted to know willingly…or unwillingly. Then he’d allow himself the pleasure
of taking her.
* * * * *
After lunch, Trella and Miguel stopped at a nearby
coffeehouse. Trella ordered three lattes as she waited for her friends. Selina had
called with an urgent request to meet, saying she had important news.
Trella found a table far enough from Miguel where they could
chat without him hearing but that also provided him a clear view of her and of
the door. Two minutes later, Selina breezed through the cafe. Dressed in a
black pencil skirt and a cranberry-colored ruched top, she sashayed through the
maze of tables. Face beaming, she slid onto a chair.
Before Trella could question her, Melissa joined them. Clad
in black pants with a white t-shirt and a gray vest, she dropped onto an
adjacent chair. She smoothed her hands over her copper-colored bob.
“Someone better be damn near dead. My shift at the hospital
ended only three hours ago.” Melissa picked up one of the drinks, took a sip
then smiled appreciatively. “Spit it out before I fall asleep.”
Selina patted Melissa’s arm. “Sorry for the last-minute
notice. You guys recall me talking about the account I was trying to land for
the CPA firm?” She cleared her throat. “I signed the account as a client this
morning, and…I’ve been offered a partnership.”
Trella grinned. “You go, girl.”
Melissa squealed, causing several patrons to glance their
way. “Sorry, it’s all I can manage without a full seven hours of sleep.”
“I couldn’t wait to tell you guys.” Selina sipped her drink.
“So, am I forgiven for having you two haul ass to hear my news?”
Melissa nodded. “Yeah…this once.”
“Amen, sister.” Trella laughed. “But since I’m probably
behind on the latest, Melissa, have you had any more contact with the
radiologist hounding you for a date?”
“No, and thank goodness.” Her friend wiped her mouth with a
napkin. “I mentioned his actions to another coworker. She confirmed dude has
hit on five other nurses.”
Selina grimaced. “Ew. Glad you found out before he wore you
down with his persistence.”
Melissa placed a hand on Trella’s arm. “How is it, staying
in the house?”
“A bit rough. Miguel had the day off yesterday.”
Melissa frowned. “Why didn’t you call one of us to come over
last night?”
Trella sipped on her latte, hesitant to divulge the fact
Carlos spent the night. Why should she be, though? They were two adults who
slept in the house and did nothing wrong. “I wasn’t alone.”
Selina quirked a brow. “Who stayed with you?”
Trella leaned forward as if sharing top-secret information.
“Carlos Diaz.”
Melissa lowered her cup. “Louis’ former partner, right?”
“I remember
papi
.” Selina nodded. “Fine with a
capital F.”
Trella sipped her drink. “He drove in from Vegas. Cooked
dinner for me. It was late when we finished eating, so I invited him to stay.”
“Why was he in town?” Melissa asked.
She didn’t want to keep info from her friends, but Carlos
wanted to keep Louis’ suspicions of the IWP between the two of them for the
moment. “Visiting friends.”
Selina tapped her nails on the table. “Admirable. Especially
when a phone call would suffice.”
When her friend pursed her lips as if deep in thought,
Trella knew she had to act fast. The woman would keep chipping away at last
night’s events until she was satisfied.
“I saw him naked,” Trella blurted.
“Geez.” Melissa rubbed a hand down her face. “How’d it
happen?”
“He was coming out of the shower.”
Selina laughed. “Totally tacky, but was I right about him
being fine?”
An image of a naked Carlos flashed in Trella’s mind. “Hell,
yeah.”
“What’d he say?” Melissa asked, eyes alight with curiosity.
“He brushed it off.”
Melissa nodded. “Obviously, you didn’t.”
She shrugged. “He’s leaving today, so it doesn’t matter.”
Selina wiped her lips with a napkin. “We did suggest easing
back into the dating pool.”
“Wading. Not dunking in body first.” Melissa agreed.
Trella laughed. “You don’t have to worry. I’d never date
him.”
Her friends exchanged glances.
“Why not?” Melissa asked.
“It’d be too weird. He’d remind me of Louis.” Plus, Carlos
already had her feeling out of sorts, and all she’d done was see him nude.
“I always thought…never mind.” Melissa glanced away.
“What ‘never mind’?” Selina asked.
“Remember the night we met Louis and Carlos?”
Trella nodded. “Yeah, so?”
Melissa blew out a breath. “I noticed Carlos’ face when he
saw you. I always believed he was interested in you.”
Selina nodded. “I thought I was the only one who picked up
on his expression.” She shrugged. “But then, Louis was the one who approached
our table first.”
Trella cradled her mug between her hands. “I don’t remember
it that way at all. Didn’t Carlos have like two or three women hanging on his
arms?”
Melissa nodded. “Yeah, when he finally joined us at the
table he did, but I still thought—”
Trella shook her head. “I’m not his type. All his women are
tall and slim. Have you ever seen him with someone who doesn’t fit the mold?”
“Hmm. You’re right. All his women do tend to look the same.”
Selina glanced around the crowded room before leaning closer. “What did his
body remind you of?”
Hot, sweaty sex
. Trella finished her drink. “A work
of art. What else?”
* * * * *
As Miguel drove, Trella struggled to ignore images of a nude
Carlos floating through her mind.
“How far?” he asked.
With a start, she realized he’d driven through the entrance
to South Mountain Park and ascended the mountain. “I’ll let you know when I see
the right spot.”
He drove slowly, allowing her time to observe the scenery.
“Pull over here.”
Miguel eased to a stop at a lookout. Trella climbed from the
car with her digital camera and clicked off several photos of the valley below.
Satisfied, she returned to the car. Miguel continued up the
winding road.
Minutes later, she instructed him to pull over again. She
snapped a couple more photos, angling the high-powered lens to obtain the shot.
The heat invigorated her, making her feel one with nature. Catching sight of a
large grouping of Saguaro Cacti, she immortalized it, taking several rapid
photos.
She returned to the car. “Take us higher.”
“Don’t you have enough?”
At the high tone of Miguel’s voice, she stared at him. Sweat
trickled down his face. He wiped it with a tissue.
“You okay?”
He opened the window. “I have a slight fear of heights,” he
squeaked out in a breathy, shaking voice.
“How slight?”
He squeezed his eyes shut then opened them before answering.
“About several hundred feet back.”
“Why didn’t you say something?”
Trella jumped out. She ran around the car and yanked open
the driver’s door, motioning for Miguel to exit. He nodded his acquiescence but
his hands remained glued to the steering wheel. After several tries, she was
able to loosen his grip.
She helped him from the car. They made their way slowly to
the passenger’s side. She buckled him into the seat. Returning to the driver’s
side, she secured herself.
Driving down the narrow, winding road, Trella rambled about
the upcoming art show to keep his mind off the fact they traveled on the outer
edge of the road. A black SUV appeared behind them in the rearview mirror. They
hugged a corner. The vehicle remained tight on their tail.
Sweat trickled between her breasts. Miguel trembled as he
clutched the door handle. At the next lookout point, Trella eased the car off
the road. The large vehicle filled with teenagers roared by. She exhaled
loudly.
Miguel’s shirt was drenched. “I…I’ll be fine. I think.”
Seeing no other traffic, Trella returned the car to the
road. In moments, they exited the park. Despite what he’d said, she didn’t
think he felt fine at all. Trella weaved through traffic toward the nearest
hospital. She screeched to a halt in front of the emergency entrance. She was
out of the car as soon as she’d put the gear in park.
“I think he’s having a heart attack!”
Two attendants rushed Miguel inside, as Trella quickly
dialed Carlos. Reaching his voicemail, she left a message before proceeding to
the admissions desk.
After completing the forms, she paced the floor. Miguel had
to pull through. If he didn’t, it was her fault.
An hour later, a middle-aged, gray-haired doctor,
accompanied by a perky blond nurse, approached her with Miguel between them.
“It wasn’t a heart attack. Big man here had a panic attack.”
A rush of relief ran through her, and she sank onto a
plastic chair in the waiting area. “Thank God.”
“He’ll be fine, but he needs rest. His blood pressure’s
elevated. I want him to see his regular doctor as soon as possible.” The physician
handed Trella a slip of paper. “I’ve prescribed a temporary supply of pills to
lower his pressure. Make sure he takes one a day. But until he sees his doctor
and receives a clean bill of health, I don’t want him working.”
Miguel said nothing, but a look of disappointment crossed
his face.
She slipped her hand around his arm. “I’ll make sure he
schedules an appointment.”
After securing Miguel’s release, Trella led him outside to
the parking lot. “I’m so sorry.”
“Not your fault.” He settled onto the backseat.
Whatever medication he’d been given made him sleepy. His
lids closed before she exited the lot. After filling his prescription at a
nearby drugstore, Trella drove straight home, not surprised to discover Miguel
still asleep when she pulled into the garage. He woke to make it into the
casita
.
She helped him get comfortable before trying Carlos’ cell again. When he didn’t
answer, she left a message updating him on Miguel’s condition.
She spied the electronic security system installed in the
mudroom. Surely, Carlos hadn’t headed back to Vegas without saying goodbye. She
changed her clothes then began preparing dinner, all the while trying to
convince herself the restlessness strumming through her was not due to worry
over Carlos’ whereabouts.
* * * * *
After visiting with his aunt and assuring her Miguel would
follow the doctor’s orders, Carlos returned to Trella’s.
She opened the door dressed in a caftan, the flowing, silky
material close in color to the cinnamon-brown hue of her skin. At first glance,
it appeared she wore nothing at all.
He climbed from the vehicle. Yeah, he had to leave this
place. This woman was nothing short of an addiction.
He followed her inside. “How’s Miguel?”
“Resting. He’s grumpy because I refuse to allow him to eat
junk food.”
He closed the door and locked it. “After I received your
message, I checked on Miguel’s mother. She insisted on making him an
appointment with her doctor.”
Trella breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. I was concerned
when I didn’t hear from you.”
“Sorry, I should’ve let you know my whereabouts.”
Damn,
man, when have you ever let a female keep you on a leash
?
“Thanks for having the cameras installed.”
“Come up with a password, and we’ll take the system live.”
Nodding, she worried her bottom lip. “Um, about this
morning—”
“Forget it.”
“I just think—”
“Estrella, let it go.”
She gasped. “You haven’t called me by my formal name since…”
The night we met
. He finished the sentence in his
mind. “I know.” Her intoxicating eyes drew him in, making him want to release
every secret he held. Just as they had that night.
“Why?”
He shrugged. “Wanted to get your attention.”
She blinked. “Oh.”
“Don’t be embarrassed by what happened. It didn’t mean
anything.”
She shrugged, avoiding looking at him. “We’re on the same
page then.”
He folded his arms in front of his chest, not liking her
flippant attitude. “Did you read the instructions on how to access the cameras
on your laptop?”
She nodded. “Are you heading back to Vegas tonight?”
As fast as I can
. “Yes. If you don’t mind, I’ll need
you to email me the file of Louis’ notes. I can follow up from home.”
“No problem.”
“I’ll check on Miguel, then I’ll be ready to leave.”
“Holler at me before you do.”
She glided through the patio doors, the caftan billowing out
with every step. The side splits offered peeks of bare, toned legs, and he
wondered what she wore beneath it.
Yes, Sister Mary Frances, I’m still in hell
.