Читать книгу Christmas Double Cross - Jodie Bailey - Страница 13

THREE

Danielle’s head pounded.

No. That wasn’t it.

She squeezed her eyes shut tighter. It wasn’t just her head. It was every part of her body. Even her hair hurt. For sure her head took the prize, though. Every time she managed to crack her eyes open, the light in the hospital room drilled into her skull. But mixed in with the pain was fear.

What had happened to the man who had manhandled her to the ground? Was he still here? Waiting for her? Lurking in the hallway? Her memories were too muddled to make any sense. She remembered darkness. Chaotic, whirling darkness. Slamming against objects. A dull roar that rose and fell until it lapsed into eerie, shuddering silence with a final crash. Then...light. And a face she recognized, arms lifting and cradling her as she tried to bring reality back into focus.

The man from her shop. He’d spoken very little, only a few words she couldn’t piece together. He’d brought her to the hospital.

He’d saved her life.

Why?

Her breaths came faster. Maybe he was in on the attack against her.

But no. His face when he’d spoken of her mother... No. He wasn’t that kind of man. Haunted maybe, but not evil.

Not like the man who’d apparently tried to kill her.

She fought to sit up, wanting to feel less vulnerable and helpless, but her muscles protested. Her whole body was too heavy to move, the pain amplifying her panic.

Gentle hands on her shoulders eased her back, and someone laid a hand on the top of her head. “Dani. It’s okay. You’re safe.”

Dani. Only one person was allowed to call her that.

Relaxing into the pillows, she turned her face toward the voice. “Lights?”

“Want me to see if I can turn ’em off?”

She nodded slightly and the sound of his feet in those ever-present Vans padded across the room, then the light in front of her eyelids dimmed considerably. She eased them open as her brother sat in a chair beside the bed and slouched against the back, stretching his legs out.

Danielle almost smiled, and would have if her jaw didn’t ache so badly. Now that he knew she was awake, all signs of concern or affection from Justin would probably cease. They were in public, after all.

The twinge of amusement didn’t last long. His brown eyes were dark with something that had to be fear as he stared at her. His too-long brown hair fell over the creases in his forehead. He was upset, even if he’d never say it out loud.

“I’m fine. Really. Don’t look at me like that.” Even though it was painful, Danielle pressed the button to ease the bed up, trying to prove to both of them that she’d survived the ordeal mostly unscathed. Still, if she hurt this bad tonight, what would tomorrow feel like?

“Somebody tried to kidnap you. They stuffed you in a trunk, Dani. And when that car wrecked, you could have been...” He shoved out of the chair and paced to the window, shoving his hand through the mop of hair she kept begging him to cut. “Somebody has to look out for you. I should have been at the shop tonight.”

Fear threatened to rip Danielle’s chest open, but she managed to keep her voice level. In spite of her own trauma, she had to stay strong for her brother. He’d been through enough, losing both parents when he was younger. Nearly losing his sister in a car accident had to be weighing on him now. But she was entitled to her fear, too, and the thought of those dangerous men anywhere near her brother twisted her stomach into knots. “What were you going to do? You’re fifteen, and those guys had guns.”

“Maybe I should start carrying.”

“Absolutely not.”

“All I’m saying is—”

“No.” She pushed every ounce of the parental authority the state had given her into her voice. “All I’m saying is you’re too young. And you’re letting that crew you hang around with fill your head with the idea—”

“They’d have helped me save you tonight.”

“They’ll drag you to jail with them.” She’d seen him on the corner and in the little Mexican take-out place in the shopping center, hanging out with a whole new group of friends who gave her insomnia. They were a rough bunch. While she believed Justin hadn’t done anything crazy yet, sometimes she thought it was only a matter of time before they convinced her soft-hearted brother that he needed the group’s “protection.” Or their cash. They flashed a lot of it. Was that what drew him? “Justin—”

“The cops want to ask you some questions. Wanted to know when you had your head on straight and were awake.” He huffed out a sigh without turning away from the window. “I’ll go tell them you’re back to your old self again.”

She huffed. The police hadn’t been any help so far. “I won’t talk to them.”

“Dani, you have to. They’ll find these guys so they don’t hurt you again. Somebody has to figure out why this happened.”

“Somebody has been zero help since the shop was hit by vandals. For whatever reason, the police aren’t doing anything. When they do talk to me, they treat me like I did something wrong. Tell them to go away.”

“I won’t.” He whipped around so fast his hair flopped across his forehead. “Somebody tried to kidnap you. Don’t you think that’s a little bit worse than tearing apart the store? You know what they keep talking about at school, warning the girls about? It’s not drugs these guys are after now. It’s pretty girls. Young girls. Wanna know why?”

“Stop it.” Nausea whirled in her stomach, overwhelming the pain with a fear that might take her out. If those guys were human traffickers...

Justin’s expression softened and he came back to her, resting his hand on her head again, the way their father had done when they were kids. “Help stop these guys. Make sure they don’t target somebody else, somebody who doesn’t have a hero willing to chase them down. One of them... One of them got away.”

“Then they can question the other one.”

His fingers tightened on her scalp. “The driver’s dead. He didn’t have an ID on him.”

Dead. It was a final, awful word, even for a man who had harmed her. “Who told you that?”

“The guy who saved your life.” His words bit off at the end. He was trying to bury his fear underneath anger.

Danielle’s eyes widened. “He’s here?”

“At the end of the hall in a huddle with a bunch of official-looking types. I think he’s a cop. Or something bigger. There’s some cowboy hats, boots, leather belts out there...”

Texas Rangers? They handled things the police wouldn’t touch.

Maybe that was what she needed. “I’ll talk to Colter Beckett. But only him. Nobody else comes in this room.” Something in his demeanor at the store had tugged at her, had said that despite the odd air about him, she could trust him.

And he had, after all, been the one to rescue her.

Justin headed for the door, then stopped at the entrance and hung his head. He glanced back at her, all traces of his earlier anger and frustration gone. “I’m glad you’re okay. If you weren’t...”

If she could get out of bed and go to him, she would. Even if he tried to pull away, she’d hug him hard enough to reassure both of them. “God’s got us, Justin.”

“Sure He does.” He was gone before she could say anything else.

Spent after trying to be strong for him, Danielle shut her eyes and let the weight of her head pull her into the pillow. All she wanted was to go home, but she hadn’t seen a doctor or a nurse to ask how long she’d be here.

A soft tap at the door opened her eyes again.

Colter Beckett stood there. Tall. Muscular. His brown eyes just as unreadable now as they had been in the shop. But the set of his jaw was a whole lot different.

Guarded. Cautious. Angry.

But at whom?

Stepping into the room, he shut the door and strode in with a defiant confidence he hadn’t carried earlier. He stopped at the foot of her bed and looked down at her as though he was holding back a whole lot of what he really wanted to say.

She suddenly wished she hadn’t let him in the room.

With practiced efficiency, he held out identification that included the familiar star-shaped badge of the Texas Rangers. “Ranger Colter Blackthorn. Who were those men?”

The abrupt question tensed her shoulders and raked across her already aching head. “I’m sorry?”

“Did you recognize either one of them? Have you seen them before? Anywhere?”

Danielle shook her head, her eyebrows furrowing and tugging on the bruise that was bound to be forming in her check and jaw. Something was wrong. The way he was looking at her, questioning her... It was exactly like the police had treated her when the shop was vandalized.

She wasn’t the victim in his mind.

Somehow, she was the criminal.

* * *

The barely controlled anger coursing through Colt wasn’t something he was used to. Looking down at the woman who was responsible for so much betrayal and death and pain... His fingers wrapped around the hard plastic at the foot of the bed and dug in, his jaw clenched so tight the tension radiated into his temples.

She had no right to look up at him with eyes so wide and frightened, tugging at his sympathy and making him want to ease up on his questions. He was starting to understand how Brent could have fallen for her manipulations. But he wouldn’t be that easily trapped.

He pulled a deep breath in through his nose and fixed his gaze on hers.

She shrunk further into herself. For half a second, he almost relented, but then he remembered who he was dealing with. A woman cold-blooded enough to kill for what she wanted, greedy enough to funnel drugs into the country without care for the harm she was doing.

Colt forced his jaw to work. “If I were you, I’d start talking now, Danielle.” Her name ground out on a wave of sarcasm so heavy, it nearly sank in the air. “We already have the warrant for your apartment. Your prints and DNA are being run as we speak, courtesy of that same warrant. You’re caught. It’s over.”

Her mouth opened, closed. Wide brown eyes narrowed, a deep V writing confusion between her eyes as she shook her head. “What is... I don’t...” She exhaled loudly and leaned her head back toward the ceiling, muttering something softly in Spanish. Colt picked up only a few words. Jesus. Help me.

Wow. She was a better actress than he’d thought. She’d have to be to fool Rio, who wasn’t known for being the trusting type. But appealing to Jesus? Colt hadn’t been on speaking terms with God in many years, but even he knew that was a low blow.

Still, she looked helpless. Scared.

The fear in her eyes drew him, made him want to dial back his aggression and comfort her, make her feel better.

But she couldn’t drag him in. He’d long ago grown cold.

Tucking his elbows closer to his sides, he pulled his gaze from her to a spot just above her head. Forgetting who he was dealing with would be dangerous. “Why me? Why talk to me?”

“Because I thought you were someone who could be trusted. When it comes to the authorities, I’m picky lately.”

She’d found her voice, and it was rising fast.

“Seems to me, if I were you, I’d be picky, too.” Colt let himself pin her eyes again. “You chose the wrong person to trust, because I’m the one you ought to fear the most.”

Her eyes widened as her head jerked back. She winced from the movement, tears edging to the corners of her eyes.

He turned his head to look out the window at the El Paso skyline. “Listen, I’ll lay it out for you. What we want is—”

“Colt.” The voice came from behind him, low and loaded with authority.

Forcing his fingers to unlock from the foot of the bed, Colt turned to face Austin Brewer, who stood in the doorway, imposing in his unofficial uniform of khaki pants and a white button-down, his Stetson at his side. Normally, Austin was smiling, but not now. Something in his expression said things had gotten a whole lot worse than someone trying to kidnap the suspect the Rangers had been hunting.

His gut twisted. Was it Carmen? Since going undercover in the Garcia cartel over a month ago, Ranger Carmen Alvarez had been missing. No contact. No nothing. The greatest fear among the team was that she’d been taken... Or worse. And the look on Austin’s face right now hinted that Colt might need to steel himself.

If they’d lost Carmen because of the woman behind him... He fisted his hands and walked toward Austin, who fell into step beside him.

“You can’t question her like that. You’re way out of line.” Austin kept his voice low, a reminder, not a reprimand.

Digging his teeth into his lower lip, Colt stayed quiet. Austin spoke the truth. They had to tread lightly or a technicality would wreck this case in court.

“Now come with me—there are some things you should know,” Austin continued, leading Colt a short distance up the hallway where Rangers Trevor Street and Ethan Hilliard waited.

Trevor’s glance raked over Colt’s then stuck to a bulletin board on the wall, something like pity, maybe even frustration, in the look.

Ethan just watched.

“Carmen?” Colt wasn’t going to wait for someone to lob the grenade. He was going to pull the pin himself.

Ethan shook his head. “No word on that front.”

That was either good...or very, very bad. Bad news meant closure. No news meant she was still out there, and no one knew her condition. But Colt knew Carmen. She was smart. Tough. Savvy enough to keep from being found out. Knowing her, she was hiding, waiting for the right time to come in and blow this whole thing wide open.

If that was the case, why did everyone look as though someone had keyed their pickups?

Austin blew out a loud breath and scratched the top of his head. “No easy way to say this, Blackthorn.”

“Then spit it out.”

“That woman is not Adriana Garcia. Not even close.”

Colt backed off and stalked up the hallway away from his teammates, dragging his hand through his hair. No way. The woman in that hospital bed had to be Adriana Garcia. The photo wouldn’t lie. Neither would his gut.

Except his gut had proven wrong one too many times recently, which was probably why Trevor couldn’t look him in the eye.

Colt turned back to his team but didn’t step closer. “Prove it.”

“The print we lifted off the business card? It belongs to Danielle Segovia. The same one that’s been showing up in the database all along. Twenty-six. Born and raised here in El Paso. Mother was Mexican. Father an American she met when he was stationed at Bliss. Both died in a car wreck a few years ago. She’s raising a younger brother. We have school records, taxes filed. She’s solid. The print doesn’t match Garcia’s.”

“A good cover.” Except fingerprints didn’t typically lie.

“There’s more. Lizzie called. Preliminary DNA testing on the blood found in the car’s trunk is way off. Danielle Segovia is not even a twelfth cousin to the Garcias.”

The words hit Colt in the chest, forcing the air from his lungs. He gripped his cheeks and dragged his hand along his mouth, tugging at the tension in his jaws. “So why did someone try to take her?”

“Same reason we came after her. Same reason local law enforcement tipped us when she called them about the break-in at her store and she looked just like the BOLO we put out on Adriana.” Ethan straightened and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I glanced through the window of the room just now while you two were talking.” He held his phone up, open to the passport photo of Adriana Garcia that they all carried. “She’s a dead ringer, right down to the way she parts her hair.”

Trevor sniffed and finally spoke. “Which means Manning and Rook are at the wrong apartment right now, searching for evidence they’re never going to find.”

“Major Vance already called them off,” Ethan said. “They’re headed here, because we’ve got bigger problems in that hospital room right now.”

Colt dropped his chin and shook his head. Bigger problems was an understatement. Not only had they not found the woman half of the state was hunting, they’d led Rio Garcia here and put a civilian in danger. That meant Danielle Segovia was one more complication in the hunt for Adriana Garcia.

One that could prove deadly for the woman they had placed in harm’s way.