32

Bailey’s heart jackhammered in her chest, in her throat, in her ears. She could not let him know she recognized him. Without missing a beat, she summoned a smile from deep in her gut and held out her hand, praying it wouldn’t tremble. “Thank you so much for being willing to provide your money.” How her voice could sound normal was beyond her.

His blue eyes bored through her, and she mentally pictured a soothing beach and held his gaze. One wrong move on her part, and he’d pull out the gun that was more than likely in his pocket. Keep it together.

What seemed like an hour passed, then a subtle relaxing of his shoulders, and he slipped his empty hand from his pocket and clasped hers. “It was the least I could do for my Maria.”

“She’s a sweetheart, but I’m sure she’s starving.” Bailey reached for Maria, feeling the .38 again. She stilled, hoping he didn’t notice the bulge in Danny’s jacket that she wore. But could she use it? Breathe. If Edward sensed her fear . . .

“Can you smell the brownies, Maria?” She willed the girl to come to her. “Don’t you want one?” For half a second Bailey wasn’t sure he’d release her, then Maria wiggled loose and went into Bailey’s waiting arms.

“I want a brownie.”

“Angel, why don’t you take her to the kitchen?” She handed Maria to him.

Maria looked over her daddy’s shoulder. “Tio, come with me?”

Her nerves screamed Run, but instead, she turned back to Edward. Normal. Keep it normal. “Yes, why don’t you? My mother makes great brownies.”

Bailey didn’t know what she’d do if he agreed. She couldn’t say or do anything to alert Ben that Edward was a murderer with Maria around him.

“No, I think I’ll return to the hotel now that everyone is safe.”

“Okay.” The child slid out of Angel’s arms and ran out the door.

Bailey waited until Maria’s footsteps reached the kitchen before she slipped her hand in the coat pocket. Her insides still screamed for her to run and not stop. Please give me courage.

“I don’t think you’ll be going anywhere, Mr. Montoya,” she said, pulling the gun out.

His eyes narrowed, and his lips thinned.

The gun wavered, and she forced it to be still.

“Bailey, what are you doing?” Ben cried.

“You won’t use that.” Edward rammed his hand in his pocket.

Her hand froze on the gun. This wasn’t target practice. She couldn’t shoot him.

His hand came out of his pocket, the gun aimed at her.

Everything in the room faded except the gun. He’ll kill everyone here. A dose of adrenaline shot through her veins.

“He has a gun!” she yelled and pulled the trigger. The gunshot rang in her ears as blood spurted from above his knee.

Danny dove toward him.

Too late.

He fired just as Danny kicked the gun out of his hands. The bullet whizzed by her ear and embedded in the wall.

Eric and Ben grabbed Edward and handcuffed him. Then Ben stood and looked at Bailey. “I don’t suppose you want to tell me what’s going on, do you?”

“I—ah—man. Poppy field . . .” The room swam, and her knees buckled.

When Bailey came to, her mother held a cold cloth to her head. “What happened?”

“I’m afraid you fainted,” her mom said.

Fainted? She wasn’t the fainting kind. She raised slowly—no need to faint again. Someone had carried her to the library.

“That was a good knee shot.” Her dad’s smile stretched across his leathery face.

“Thanks to you.” She swallowed. “Where’s Edward? I didn’t kill him, did I?”

“They’re working on him, trying to staunch the blood. The bullet severed the artery above the knee.”

“Is . . . is he going to make it?”

Her mother avoided her gaze. “Like I said, they’re working on him. But if he doesn’t, don’t blame yourself. He would have killed you . . . and no telling who else.”

Bailey leaned her head back on the couch. “He was the man in the poppy field.”

“Yeah,” Danny said. “Ben figured out that’s what you were trying to say when you fainted.”

Bailey turned as Danny sat beside her. Angel and a pale Solana came in behind him. “Where’s Maria?” She didn’t want the girl to see her tio on the floor, bleeding.

Angel helped Solana to a chair. “We took her to your sister’s house.”

“Good. I still don’t understand why he wanted to kill me.”

Danny put his arm around her. “Angel thinks he’s El Jefe.”

Angel nodded. “There’s never been any indication my uncle was involved in the Calatrava drug cartel—he hid it well.”

“Until I saw him in that poppy field. He knew if I identified him, the game was over.” She shook her head. Edward Montoya was the head of the Calatrava drug cartel? She rubbed her forehead. “What about Joel? What’s his part in it?”

“We don’t know yet,” Angel said.

“Do you think Edward ever loved Maria? Or was it all an act?” Danny asked.

“My uncle is not capable of loving anyone,” Angel said.

Danny squeezed her hand. “How did you know Edward had a gun?”

“The way he first looked at me. He had his hand in his pocket, and it was like he was waiting for something. When I realized who he was, I was afraid he’d use Maria as a hostage, so I pretended I didn’t know him.”

“I doubt he would ever have felt safe as long as you were alive and might eventually remember who he was.”

“Poor Elena.” Tears scalded her eyes as a siren wailed from the road. Would it have made a difference if she’d reported seeing the poppy field? With the Calatrava in so many pockets, probably not. But it was something she’d have to live with.

Ben appeared at the doorway, and from the look on his face, she knew Edward was dead before he spoke.