Whatever It Takes (14 page)

Nate’s eyes closed and his breathing slowed and evened out in sleep.

Alex watched him for a moment, then grabbed her bag and retreated into the shower. She took her time, letting the water wash away the tears that finally came, not eager to face Nate any time soon.

Eventually, she forced her mind onto the mission and Marco’s rescue. Her part in the plan was easy, and no one had to tell her what it was. She’d been doing it most of her life. Use her body and her exotic looks to distract Diego. Joe wouldn’t put it like that, of course. He’d probably be mad as hell if he heard her say those words. She’d let him describe her job however he chose—­then she’d get on with distracting the man.

She took pains with her preparations, dressing in her last pair of clean navy blue shorts and a sleeveless white eyelet top that stopped at midriff. Brushing her hair until it shone, she gathered it into a ponytail that made her look about thirteen. She’d seen Diego’s type before, and she wouldn’t be surprised if he preferred the younger set. Lotion on her arms, legs, and throat provided a haunting dime-­store fragrance. At last, she pulled on socks and then her hiking boots.

The final item on the agenda was the hardest. She picked up the scabbard that held her dagger, drew the blade, and turned it over. Accustomed to the weapon always accessible under her right hand, she would miss its weight on her belt, but surely Diego wouldn’t let her walk in with a knife. With a quick thrust, she shoved it into the prefabricated sheath specially made for it on the inside of her right boot. Then she folded the top of her sock over the handle, and the dagger disappeared from sight.

S
OMETHING WAS WRONG.
Nate automatically reached for Alex only to find she wasn’t there. He was halfway off the bed when he heard the water running in the shower and collapsed on his pillow in relief.

He must have really been out of it to not hear her get up or yearn for the warmth of her body next to his. As soon as she opened the door, he would have her back in bed. Waking up beside her every day wouldn’t be a hardship by any stretch of the imagination. Hell, if she didn’t hurry, he’d be joining her in the shower.

As though she’d heard his thoughts, the water shut off, but she still didn’t appear. He shook his head and then groaned, stifling his impatience so as not to actually call out for her to hurry. No doubt
that
would go over like a lead balloon.

Was she nervous about today? Maybe she needed some time alone. As much as he could respect that, the idea of not being with her made his skin crawl. It would be a hell of a day, but he had no intention of letting her face Diego on her own. For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what Joe was thinking.

Nate wanted Marco out as bad as, or worse than, anyone else. Responsible for the death of his kidnapper, Nate had been haunted by Marco’s plight for months. Now they had a chance to make things right—­but the cost was too high if it called for Alex’s life. If that made him a hard-­ass, so be it. There had to be a way to get them both out, and Nate would find it.

The bathroom door swung open, and Alex stepped out with her bag. She was fully dressed and ready to go, and Nate experienced a moment of disappointment. The second thing he noticed was the conspicuous absence of her dagger on her hip. She was watching him when his gaze swept back to her eyes.

“Alex? Going in there is one thing. Going in unarmed is suicide.” He regretted his choice of words as soon as they left his tongue.

Her lips were set in a serious line. “I’m
not
unarmed.” She dropped her bag and rested her foot on the bed. Reaching beneath the fold of her sock, she grabbed the dagger’s hilt and slid it out far enough for him to see.

Nate smiled and reached for her hand. “Good girl. Now, why are you dressed? It’s early yet. We’ve got lots of time.”

Alex avoided his attempt to pull her onto the bed. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“That’s okay. I wasn’t thinking about
sleep
.” He raised his eyebrows, a useless attempt to make her smile.

She disentangled her hand and backed away a step. “I need some air. I’m going to walk down to the marina and visit with Ben if he’s around.”

“I’ll go with you.” Nate threw back the covers.

“Please, Nate. I’ll only be a few minutes.”

“Screw that. Have you forgotten what happened here yesterday?” He rose and started pulling on his clothes.

“Really?” Her tone was sharp. “I’m armed . . . and I’m crazy. If that doesn’t keep the bad guys away, what are
you
going to do to help me?” An instant’s regret flashed in her eyes before she turned on her heels, strode to the door, and disappeared.

She’s in fine form this morning.
Nate sat on the edge of the bed and ran his hands through his hair. Something had her chewing nails, and he’d bet it was more than nerves. He seemed to be catching the worst of her bad humor, but it couldn’t be personal. Nothing had been wrong when they went to sleep. On the contrary. Now, however, it didn’t appear as though she wanted him in the same hemisphere.
What was that about?

He finished dressing, stuck his gun in his belt, and grabbed his baseball cap. It didn’t really matter what she wanted. He would tail her all over this county if that’s what it took to keep her safe.

As he stepped from the motor home, he spotted her halfway to the lake. Her ponytail bounced from side to side, mimicking the motion of her shapely hips. He followed her, walking along the gravel road that led to the marina, his gaze sweeping the campground for anyone or anything that didn’t belong. All appeared as it should under an expansive blue sky, awaiting the arrival of the sun to rouse the desert floor. Sweat trickled down his neck. It would be another warm one today.

The crunch of tires on gravel behind him caught his attention. He glanced over his shoulder and studied the maroon-­colored station wagon headed his way. He couldn’t make out the occupants, but their slow, careful driving and the older family car reminded him of when his father used to take him fishing on the weekends. There would probably be a lot of families arriving for a day on the lake. The tension eased from his shoulders as he swung back toward Alex.

She had paused and turned partway, staring intently at the car behind him. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, and there was no relaxation in her stance.

Nate stopped and looked back, studying the station wagon closely for the cause of her obvious state of uneasiness. Suddenly, the driver revved the engine, the car’s tires spun on the loose gravel, and the vehicle lurched toward him, accelerating as it closed the fifty feet that separated them. He pulled his gun and aimed at the windshield . . . but he couldn’t take the shot. He still wasn’t a hundred percent sure this wasn’t some teenage kids out for a joyride. They hadn’t done anything worthy of getting shot . . . yet.

As though the driver read his mind, he cranked the wheel to the left, lined up with the edge of the road, and came straight for Nate.

Alex screamed a warning. He wanted to tell her to stay back, but she wouldn’t hear him over the roar of the car’s engine, and who was he kidding—­she wouldn’t listen to him anyway.

Nate stood his ground, his weapon leveled at the driver. At twenty-­five feet, he could make out the silhouette behind the wheel and one in the passenger seat. At twenty feet, he fired three times, and then dived off the road as the car careened out of control.

It came to rest on the right side of the road where the sand finally bogged down the tires. By the time Nate got to his feet, Ben had apparently heard the commotion and had the car, and its occupants, covered with his shotgun. Alex rushed toward Nate, and, for a second, he expected her to slip her arms around his waist. At the last minute, she stopped.

“Are you all right?” A slight tremor in her voice told him how scared she’d been.

He grinned. “I am now.” He strode to where Ben was standing beside the car.

Nate wasn’t surprised that both occupants were dead. It did surprise him to see the headshot of himself taped to the dashboard when he’d had it in his mind that these were more of Diego’s cronies after Alex.

“You got yourself some enemies we don’t know about, son?” Ben leaned against the front of the car like it didn’t have two dead men inside.

“I’m made a few over the years—­one in particular just recently, but he doesn’t know I’m here.” His sister was the only person who knew.
Shit!

“I’ll call the sheriff.” Ben started for the store, and Alex followed him after a moment’s hesitation.

Nate strode toward the dock, his cell phone in his hand. He walked along the pier until he reached a bench overlooking the lake. He could still see the front of the store where Alex had disappeared with Ben. He slouched on the wooden slats with his legs stretched in front of him and dialed his sister’s number.

Relief flooded him when she answered after the third ring. “Susie. It’s Nate. I’m just checking up on you.”

“Why? What’s happened? You never call when you’re on a job unless something is wrong.” He could hear the panic in her voice.

“Relax, sis. Everything’s fine. I have to ask you a question, though. Have you told anyone where I am?”

“No, of course not. Oh . . . except that friend of yours from high school . . . Willard something-­or-­other. He called two nights ago—­said he needed to talk to you right away about another friend who was in trouble. I told him I’d ask you to call if I heard from you, but that you were in Nogales and . . . Oh no. I screwed up, didn’t I.”

Shit!
The bastard had contacted Susie. Daniels was letting him know that he hadn’t forgotten and he wasn’t giving up. “Are the police still watching the house?”

“Yes. How bad did I mess up this time?”

“I didn’t go to school with anyone named Willard, Susie.” He didn’t want to scare her, but she had to know how serious this was.

“Oh damn. I’m so sorry. Nate.”

“It’s all good, and this will be over soon. In the meantime, tell Gina and Ashley to keep their eyes open.”

“I will. Stay safe, big brother.”

“I’ll be home before you know it.” Nate ended the call and laid the phone beside him on the bench. Thank God he’d arranged for protection for them before he left. Otherwise, he’d be deciding between them and Alex right now—­Alex who said she didn’t want him anywhere around, but whose actions indicated otherwise.

He tried to make himself comfortable on the bench, determined to wait until she came outside. This was crazy. He should go in and have some coffee. He quickly rejected the idea. Alex had said she wanted to be alone—­with Ben, apparently. Nate scowled. The sheriff would be here before long, and then any chance of talking to her in private would be postponed indefinitely.

After the longest thirty minutes of his life, he heard the door close and glanced up. She hesitated, looking between him and the RV, obviously undecided as to which way to go. Finally, she turned toward him and approached slowly.

Without a word, she sat stiffly at the far edge of the bench, close enough that the slight aroma of an unfamiliar fragrance tantalized him. She seemed more open, but Nate wasn’t going to push it. Let her talk if and when she was ready.

She trailed her fingers down his forearm near a fresh scratch that had drawn blood. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Just a scratch or two.”

“It’s Daniels, isn’t it?”

Nate shrugged. “Looks like it. I’ll have to do something about him when I get home.”

There were two fishing boats on the lake already, and every now and then voices could be heard drifting across the water. Gentle waves lapped against the dock, the motion and sound creating a peaceful setting. Too bad they weren’t really on vacation.

Alex sat forward and turned sideways to face him. “Are you going to shadow me all day?”

“If I have to.” Though he would have chosen to
accompany
her—­not shadow. Her sarcastic words stung, especially in light of what just happened, and made him all the more determined.

“I don’t want you getting hurt because of me. I can take care of myself.”

“I’m sure you can.” He cocked his head and smiled.

She took a deep breath as anger flashed in her eyes. “You don’t agree?”

Her question stuck like a chicken bone in his craw. Nate lowered his hands from behind his head and rested them on his thighs. “What’s wrong, Alex?”

Fear stole across her face and was instantly replaced with scorn. “You mean other than a five-­year-­old kid victimized by Diego and the rest of his dirtbags? Marco won’t get out of there unscathed, you know. Best case scenario—­he could end up like me.”

Nate swung toward her and grabbed her shoulders. “I’m concerned about Marco too. All I know is, getting him out and home to his mother is better than leaving him here for whatever Diego has planned. As for ending up like you—­I think he could do a hell of a lot worse, but I don’t appreciate you changing the subject.”

The hostility in her body language heightened.

“You know damn well what I was asking. What happened between us, Alex?”

Her gaze dropped to somewhere on his chest and he had to fight the impulse to shake her. “I thought we had something pretty good going. If you’re done with me, just tell me. I’ll back off—­but if there’s something else eating at you, let’s get it out in the open. Communication, remember?”

She looked toward the lake before her anguish-­filled eyes met his again. Three times she opened her mouth and closed it without a word. The fourth time was the charm. “We’re done, Nate.”

Her words hit him hard, and his world spun for a moment. His hands dropped away, and he stared at her. In his wildest dreams, he hadn’t imagined she’d give him the boot without some explanation. Now that she had, he wasn’t sure how to proceed. He’d told her he’d back off, and he should be true to his word, but he’d be damned if he’d leave it like this. She couldn’t mean it. He didn’t believe her. Shit! All of a sudden, he’d turned into one of those guys that couldn’t let go.

“Alex, what . . .”

The screen door slammed one more time, and Ben walked toward them. “Sheriff’s coming.” He pointed down the gravel road. “Best let me do the talking if we’re going to get out of here in time to meet Joe.”