Alex looked at his watch again and stared down the street at the little house where the drug deal was supposed to go down. The front yards of the older neighborhood were full of trees, but from where he was parked half a block away, he had a clear line of sight to the house with the address he’d been given.
At nearly midnight there was still no sign of anything out of the ordinary. A light in the front room shone through shabby curtains, but he could detect no movement. He hoped the dealers would show; the DEA agent needed something concrete.
At some point, this investigation had become more than Alex helping Misty because the Navarro name and business were threatened. Alex was an attorney; his sense of justice wouldn’t permit an innocent young man take the fall for a drug dealer, especially if it was a Navarro.
Alex tensed when a car swung into view, but it parked across the street and a young couple got out and carried a sleeping baby into the house. Damn, this was more boring than watching paint dry. Two minutes later, another car came around the corner and Alex sat up straighter. It was another beater almost as crappy as his, not Ren’s usual Lexus IS, but that was definitely his cousin behind the wheel.
Shit.
Ren parked in the driveway and knocked on the door. Alex strained to see who let him in—why hadn’t he thought to bring binoculars?—but he was too far away and Ren disappeared inside too quickly for Alex to make an identification.
What should he do now? Sure, he could drive away, but damn, he really needed the other dealer’s identity. There was only one way to find out.
Alex scanned the neighborhood. The rest of the houses appeared to be closed up tight; he eased out of the car and pushed the door almost closed. He took shelter under the shadows of the trees and used them as a cover as he worked his way down the half block to the drug house.
Of course, this yard had no trees, but there was a hedge along the front of the house that should keep him from being spotted. He slid out from behind the trees and into the narrow space between the bushes and the house, careful not to make a sound as he crept toward the front window. The drapes were cracked open, and he angled his body as he peered in. He almost fell over in shock at the sight of Chito Sauceda counting a stack of bills and gesturing to Ren.
Grandfatherly Chito Sauceda, retired school teacher and mariachi musician, was a drug dealer, and at least a mid-level one, if that stack of money was any indication.
The puzzle pieces started falling into place. Chito’s all-American cheerleading granddaughter Haley and her friend Eric Morales were dealing for Chito. They were young and personable and, like Chito, not people who looked or seemed suspicious. Yet they were seen talking to Susan Santos the night of the party, and they would have also been the logical contact with Yesenia.
Shit. The little act they and Ren put on the night the drugs were planted? Someone found out Kirby had a history of drug problems and they selected him as the perfect dupe.
Alex needed to get out of there. He was backing out from behind the bushes when a car whipped around the corner and down the block. He froze, praying the car continued down the street, but no such luck. The car turned into the driveway and as it did the bright glare of the headlights caught Alex crouching between two bushes in the hedge. Shit, shit, shit. Alex was lit up like a Christmas tree. There was no way the driver had missed seeing him.
Alex cursed when the driver leapt from the car carrying what looked like a gun. Reacting instinctively, Alex backed out of the hedgerow and took off running, ignoring a shout from the driver, plunging into the shaded cover of the trees next door. His heart beating in his throat as he dodged behind trees, hoping his pursuer would lose sight of him. He heard footsteps and felt a whoosh of air against his ear as he heard the faint pop of a silenced weapon.
Three houses down, then two, and then he was jumping into the old Saturn—only to find Ren sitting in the passenger seat with a gun trained on his head. “Going somewhere, pendejo? Get the hell out of the car.”
“Go to hell, Ren. What are you going to do? Shoot me?”
Alex got his answer a second later when Ren slammed the pistol into the bridge of his nose. Blood spurted as Alex’s face exploded in pain. “One more word and I pull the trigger. Now get out of the car.”
Alex grasped the wheel in fury, almost but not quite ready to call his cousin’s bluff. A month ago he would have taken his chances. It wouldn’t have mattered if he’d lived or died. But not now. Now there was a woman and child who needed him, and he figured that his best chance to survive was to cooperate, at least for the time being.
He eased out from behind the wheel. The driver of the other car stood with his gun also trained on Alex’s head. “No, don’t shoot him,” Ren said quickly when the other man cocked his pistol. Alex’s head was swimming and he could feel the nervous sweat breaking out on his forehead.
“Why not?”
“Because I said not to, Juanito,” Ren said calmly. “Chito and I are in charge, not you.”
“I’m El Espectro’s representative, man. Besides, Chito’s going to want him dead,” Juanito protested.
“That may be, but it will be up to Chito to make the call and do the shooting. Now, I’ll take care of him, you bring in the shipment.” Ren gestured to Alex with his pistol. “Come on, hijo de puta.”
Alex straightened and looked Ren in the eye. “Who’s the hijo de puta, cuz? You’re the one peddling drugs.”
Ren gave Alex a rough shove and he was frog-marched into the house where a fed-up-looking Chito waited. “Like we’re not going to see you right outside the window.”
Alex glared across the room at Chito. “Why?”
“Why do you think? Do you have any idea what Haley’s college is going to cost?” Chito turned to Juanito. “Go get the damned shipment out of the car so you can get out of here, now that we have this unanticipated complication to deal with.”
Great. Now he was an unanticipated complication. Chito turned to Ren. “Why didn’t you just kill him?” he asked as he gestured to Alex.
“Because if we shoot him here, we dirty up this place and have to find another one. Let’s just get the damned shipment packaged and I’ll deal with him later.”
Juanito left. Alex sucked in a deep breath through his throbbing nose as Ren shoved him across the floor into a big, sturdy metal desk chair. He yanked out a pair of zip-ties and pulled Alex’s hands behind him, threading the ties through the metal slats in the back of the chair. He secured the ties around Alex’s wrists and another tie around his feet and leaned down where Alex had to look him in the eye.
“Pay attention,” he breathed almost soundlessly before straightening up and moving away.
*****
Misty pulled around the corner and cut her lights. There was only one house on the block with the front light on and cars in the driveway, and she surmised it was the house where the drug deal was supposed to go down. She didn’t recognize any of the cars, but that didn’t mean anything. Alex wasn’t in his own car, and common sense dictated none of the others were either.
Or maybe not. As she drove slowly by the house she noted that one of the cars was a late-model Lincoln crossover, and if she wasn’t mistaken there were baby seats in the back. Were they just there for cover, or did the dealer really have a family? She continued to drive quietly and breathed a sigh of relief, which quickly turned to consternation. There was the little Saturn Alex had been in earlier, but he wasn’t in it.
Misty pulled her car up behind the Saturn. She pulled open the unlocked driver’s side door and gasped at the sight of blood on the steering wheel and the driver’s seat. The keys and the burner phone were on the floor of the car. Throwaway or not, he wouldn’t have left the phone behind.
Misty got back in her car and punched in her father’s number. “Dad, I’m here and Alex is in trouble. How soon before the cops arrive?”
“It took me awhile to get through to that Ellison bastard. They’re at least fifteen minutes out.”
“What am I supposed to do? Just wait? They could kill him before the cavalry arrives.”
“Misty, they could have killed him already.”
“Dad—”
“Misty, do not go charging in there. Think of your own safety. Think of the baby.”
Rolando clicked off, and Misty’s mind raced. She had no business approaching the house and she knew it. But there had to be something she could do. She stared at the house, willing something to happen, and watched as a man she’d never seen before got some kind of sack out of the crossover and carried it into the house. He made two more trips and didn’t come back out.
So what should she do? What if they got in the cars and drove off? What if Alex was still alive and they took him with them? If they hadn’t killed him already, they would kill him for sure. She couldn’t very well give chase. But what if they couldn’t leave? What if something was blocking their way?
Misty eased her car out into the road and slowly crept down the street, pulling it up to the driveway and parking sideways across the entrance. She killed the engine and pushed the door to, then hot-footed it down the sidewalk.
Thankfully the old Saturn started on the first try. She gagged; she was sitting in Alex’s blood. With the chance of saving him pumping through her veins, she pulled his car in place behind the Mustang. She was about to get out and find a hiding place when the front door opened.
Damn, damn, damn. She dove for the floor but in only a matter of seconds she felt the car door open and a rough hand yanking her by her hair. “Well, well, well, what do we have here?” a cruel voice hissed in her ear as she was jerked from the car. “Looks like another sleuth’s come out to play tonight.”
*****
Alex’s mind raced as he stared across the room at the busy conspirators. He’d seen a YouTube video on how to get out of zip-ties, but there were three of them, with weapons, and Ren had said “pay attention.” Alex decided to wait until his odds were better before trying to free himself.
His nose hurt like a sonofabitch as his heart pounded in his throat. He watched Juanito make three trips outside, each time returning with, of all things, re-usable grocery bags that he sat on a folding table with a triple beam balance in the middle. Chito and Ren sat at the table carefully removing the contents of the bags, which contained blocks of marijuana and plastic sandwich bags of every kind of pill imaginable.
When they seemed satisfied, Chito counted out fifty thousand dollars and handed it to Juanito. “We’re good here,” Ren said as Juanito pocketed the money “Next time.”
“And don’t forget we’re looking to expand,” Chito added. “Ren’s ready to take his place in the organization.”
Juanito nodded. “El Espectro’s ready to do business with him.”
Good God, Alex thought with disgust. Ren not only was dealing drugs, he was bucking for a promotion. Juanito sailed out the door and Chito secured it behind him. “All right, you need to take Sherlock Holmes for a little ride,” Chito spat out.
Alex flexed his hands against the back of the chair. Was he strong enough to pop the ties? Would it do any good if he did? God in heaven, please don’t let me die. I don’t want to let the baby down. I don’t want to let Misty down.
Alex breathed a sigh of relief when Ren shook his head. “No, let’s get the drugs bagged up first.”
“Jesus, Ren, you want me to take care of it?” Chito asked as he reached for his gun.
“No,” Ren said sharply as Alex tensed. “He’s familia. I’ll take care of him.”
Chito nodded, sat down at the table and Ren joined him, each taking a box of Zip-lock bags beginning what looked like a long project.
They had barely started when loud banging on the front door had them both jumping up, and pulling out their guns. Chito peeked out the peephole and yanked the open the door in disgust. “Jesus, it’s Dr. Watson,” he snapped. “What’s with all the amateurs tonight?”
Misty?
“Damned if I know,” Juanito said as he pushed a terrified Misty into the door and kicked it shut behind him. “I found her car and his”—he pointed to Alex—“old beater blocking the driveway. Bastante. We need to get rid of them now.”
Alex stared horrified as Juanito shoved Misty across the room and Chito yanked her against him and put a gun to her head.
“Kill us? Are you sure you want to do that?” Misty asked contemptuously. “This is El Jefe Navarro’s son. You kill him and he’ll have every man he can buy hunt you until you’re dead.”
Juanito stared at Alex in shock. “Jesus, Sauceda, what have you gotten me mixed up in?” “I don’t want the Navarros up my ass, and neither will El Espectro.”
“Shut up, Juanito. I didn’t get you mixed up in anything,” Chito snarled back. “Shit, Ren’s a Navarro too.”
Juanito looked over at Ren with wide eyes. “And nobody thought to tell me before we give him his own territory? Idioto. You think El Espectro’s going to want to get tangled up with the Navarros? Any of the Navarros?” He looked at Ren, assessing him. “So why’s a rich boy peddling drugs? Aren’t you loaded enough already?” His eyes narrowed. “Or is something else going on with you?”
“Nothing’s going on with me,” Ren said tightly.
“Yeah, right.” Juanito looked from Misty to Alex. “So what the hell do we do now?”
“These two have to die,” Chito said flatly, gesturing to Alex and Misty. “I don’t care who the hell he is.”
Dear God, why didn’t Misty stay home? Not only was Alex about to be killed, but Misty and his baby were going to die also.
As he stared across the room, knowing what their odds were, his life flashed before his eyes. Not his past, but the life he could have with Misty and their baby: baby beds and car seats, breakfast on a high-chair tray, tricycles and bicycles and soccer, school plays and Mass on Sunday, Christmas mornings and Halloween nights, cars and dates and going off to college—all the joy and fun of raising their child together, growing old together.
Alex wanted that life. Desperately. He wanted Misty and their child and all they could have together. He wanted it more than he could have ever imagined.
But he was about to lose them and his own life too.
And he wouldn’t allow that.
They didn’t have much of a chance, but they had to try to save themselves. He glanced at her; she was staring at him in horror. He held her gaze, desperately trying to communicate as he surreptitiously worked the ties against the back of the chair, hoping Chito and Juanito, who were arguing over where to kill them, wouldn’t notice.
He thought he had the zip-ties weakened enough to pop them. He waited until Chito and Juanito’s argument was at fever pitch then nodded to Misty. She nodded back and he mouthed “One, two,” and on the count of three he jerked his arms and legs against the metal slats, neatly popping the ties as Misty whirled around and elbowed Chito in the chest and kneed him in the balls, taking him to the floor.
“You drug-dealing bastard,” she yelled as she yanked his gun out of his hand and hit him hard in the head with it. “That’s for Kirby.”
Alex dove across the floor and tackled a startled Juanito, knocking him to the floor and stretching out his hand with the weapon high above his head. But Juanito was young and strong and once the element of surprise had worn off he kicked and punched and tried to aim his weapon at Alex.
But Alex was wild, crazy, furious. His old life had been stolen from him, Leigh Anne’s killer had never been brought to justice, and another woman and child of his were in danger and this thug had put them there.
The adrenaline rush gave him strength like he’d never known. “You son of a bitch,” Alex ground out as he hit Juanito over and over. “God damn you and God damn every killing bastard out there.”
Alex climbed on top of Juanito, punching him over and over with one hand while he banged the bastard’s hand with the gun repeatedly on the floor. In spite of the beating he was taking Juanito steadfastly refused to let go of the gun. He rolled and bucked Alex off of him and swung his pistol toward Alex, but Misty barreled into him from behind, knocking him back into Alex who shoved him back across the floor and into the table, knocking all the bags of pills onto the floor.
Misty grabbed for the gun as Alex twisted Juanito’s arm nearly out of the socket. His hand jerked just as Misty dislodged the weapon and the room was filled with a deafening boom. Juanito let out a yelp of agony as the bone in his arm snapped in two.
Alex gave Juanito’s head one more satisfying thud against the table as the door burst open and the room filled with policemen. “All right, everybody, hands up,” a tall, blond detective said as he pointed his gun at them.
Alex held his hands above his head. Then he glanced over at Misty, who had blood pouring out of her shoulder and down her shirt. “My God, you’ve been shot.” Ignoring the guns pointed at him, he reached for her as she swayed on her feet. “Jesus, asshole, get that gun off us and get my woman some help.” He pointed to the two men on the floor. “There’s the bad guys.”
Misty looked over at the detective. “Fancy meeting you here, Ellison. Took you long enough.” She blinked up at Alex. “You’re safe,” she whispered as her eyes closed and she went limp.
“Damn it, get her some help,” Alex bellowed as he sank to the floor with Misty in his arms.
The detective glared at them as he reluctantly lowered his gun. He stepped over and gently moved back the torn fabric of Misty’s blouse. “It’s just a flesh wound. She’s not even bleeding that badly.”
“Damn it, she’s unconscious.” Alex resisted the urge to plow his fist into Sawyer Ellison’s face.
“Her father said she’s pregnant. Pregnant women pass out all the time.”
“Especially the ones who’ve just taken a bullet because you didn’t do your job.”
Ellison gave Alex a fuck-you look as he backed up and motioned to the rest of the policemen in the room. The other officers swarmed Chito and Juanito, and after they were read their rights, they were marched out the door.
“You’re missing one,” Alex said as he looked around, mystified. Ren was nowhere to be seen. In fact, he hadn’t seen Ren since he and Misty had jumped Chito and Juanito. “You need to find him.”
“I’m not missing anybody,” Ellison ground out.
“Yes, you are. My cousin Ren. He’s up to his eyeballs in this.”
Ellison looked at him disgustedly. “I’ll need you down at the station as soon as you get her in an ambulance.”
“I’m going with Misty,” Alex said stubbornly. “And you need to find Ren.”
“I know exactly where Ren is, and I need to talk to you. Now will you come willingly, or do I have to haul you down in a cruiser?”
“Fine. I’ll come down and we’ll make it quick. She’s going to need me.”
Ellison turned his attention to the drugs scattered everywhere while Alex sat in the middle of the floor cradling Misty in his arms. Thank God she was going to be all right. Maybe that future with her and the baby he’d envisioned was more than a possibility.
Would she want that future? Or would she still insist that he didn’t love her and the baby enough to marry him?
He knew he cared. He cared deeply, not just for her but also for the baby.
He knew he wanted to spend time with her and laugh with her and eat pizza with her and listen to her play her trumpet. He admired her intelligence and her grit and thought she was beautiful. He wanted to raise their child with her. And he wanted to make love to her. God, he wanted to make love to her, every day for the rest of his life.
But did he love her?