Читать книгу In Safe Hands - Linda Conrad - Страница 12

From his booth in the darkest corner of the bar, Colin watched while the blighter who’d dropped off his pint backed away from the table, muttering something in Spanish. Colin tried to ignore the twit’s stares. He knew the fresh scratches on his face must look strange, but they’d already closed over with scabs and were healing thanks to Maggie’s natural potions. Not much else he could do about them now.

Needing to test his muscles, he stretched in his seat. A little soreness remained, but none of the intense pain from before. That Maggie Ryan had done an amazing job on him.

He had no trouble understanding why he’d so easily accepted her natural healing ability, yet still could not believe her witchcraft story. Years earlier, he himself had received training from a curandera healer. His father had been a diplomat, stationed in the Mexican state of Vera Cruz at the time, and Colin went for summer holiday. He’d spent a couple of fascinating months there learning about natural healing, honing the healing skills he’d picked up years earlier from his Irish mother and grandmother.

Colin seldom allowed himself to dwell on his early lessons in native plants, or on the Irish half of his background for that matter. Such thoughts usually turned dark when they led to the uncomfortable memories of his mother’s abandonment, and from there to thoughts of John, and the worthless reasons he’d given himself for neglecting his own brother.

He now knew that no amount of anger toward his mother was adequate grounds for deserting his baby brother. It hadn’t been John’s fault that their mother drove a wedge between the family. Colin realized, too late, that John had looked up to him, counted on him. And Colin had let him down. Stayed away when John needed his big brother the most.

Feeling melancholy, Colin tried to shake off the memories. He’d left Maggie’s room because, if he’d stayed, he might have begun to believe all her stories. Her spirit had called to him, her body set his afire at first sight. He couldn’t think clearly around her.

Natural healing was one thing, but witchcraft and crystals were quite another. Deep in his being, he did not believe.

He wasn’t ready to give up on John. To admit he’d lost his only brother. Not yet.

After making a couple of phone calls, Colin had gotten hold of a man who swore to know the truth. He was to meet that man here, in this pub, in the middle of the day.

It now seemed a waste of time.

Without warning, Colin felt the cold steel of a gun barrel as it pressed against his neck.

“Don’t move, Fairfax,” the deep voice said in heavily accented English. “And don’t make a sound.”

Where had the bastard come from? Colin had been watching the front door, and the bloke had appeared out of nowhere.

“We’re going to take this out to the alley. But if you make any wrong moves, I’d just as soon shoot you here. Understood?”

Colin nodded. His mind was busy calculating his chances, and the choice between making a stand here or out in the alley. Would this man have any real answers for him? Or was he just there to stop Colin’s questions for good?

“Get up. Slowly, por favor.”

Colin found himself leaning more toward the idea that this hombre wanted to kill him, not talk. The thought chilled him to the bone. His brother must be dead after all.

Numb and heartsick, Colin shifted and slid out of the booth. The man at his side grabbed his arm and jammed the gun in his ribs.

“Now walk. Nice and easy, sí?”

A commotion in the front of the bar caught everyone’s attention. Colin and his captor slowed then stopped dead.

“Colin, darlin’.” A high-pitched female voice lilted through the barroom. “Don’t you dare walk away from me, you…you…I’ve got something to say to you.”

Colin turned and blinked at the sight of Maggie shoving her way through the tables and heading directly for him. She looked like an avenging angel, storming through the bar patrons, who all watched her every move. An angel in a familiar, pea-green coat. He wanted to warn her to stay away but hesitated to make any quick moves. Instead, he waited for a chance to take control of the situation. Colin knew he could wrestle the gun away from the smaller man at his side if all things were equal, but he didn’t want anyone else to get hurt.

Particularly not Maggie.

She stormed up and raised her voice so she could be heard throughout the bar. “Colin Fairfax, you come home with me right this minute. How dare you leave just when I was telling you about the baby.”

“What?”

Maggie grimaced and shoved at his chest. “Come on. Stand up like a man. Let’s go home and face the music together.” She grabbed his arm and tugged him away from the stunned gunman.

Colin shot a glance at the guy and saw the man’s mouth had dropped open. Colin knew exactly how he felt. What the hell kind of game was she playing?

A dangerous one.

Maggie pulled him toward the front door. Every eye in the place was locked on the two of them.

“Maggie,” he whispered in her ear. “The guy has a gun pointed at us and no one is watching him now. We need to disappear before he figures it out.”

They both hit the door at a run. Maggie leaned against it and shoved. Just as daylight and cold city air blasted him in the face, the zing of a bullet whizzed past his ear and hit the front window. Glass shattered everywhere.

Bending, he threw his arm over Maggie’s head and shuffled the two of them out the door as fast as he could. “Move!”

As they hit the sidewalk, he took control and grabbed her arm. “Let’s go. Run.”

She started off without a word, managing to keep up with him as he dashed along the packed sidewalk. They ran full out and pushed through midday crowds until they were both out of breath.

Panting, he slowed after they’d gone about five blocks. “What the hell did you think you were doing?” he gritted out.

Maggie turned and gave him a sweet smile. “Why, Colin darlin’, you know the answer to that. I was saving your idiotic ass. What else?”

The head of the notorious drug cartel leaned back in his cushioned chair and looked around the veranda. The men in his employ either ate, drank or played cards as they lay around and waited to do his bidding.

All his money. The power he had accumulated. It would all mean nothing if the one man with more power learned of his past foolish mistake. In fact, his whole life would be worthless.

Ten years it had taken. He had worked hard and smart enough to climb to the top of one of the largest Mexican drug cartels. It would be too humiliating to have it come down around his ears, all because he had needed to take one small bit of revenge.

In truth, he’d managed to become the jefe—the boss—by demanding respect, and everyone knew that respect must be maintained.

No one blamed him because his organization had been infiltrated by an international undercover operation. Those agents had had their jobs to do, and he had his. All is fair in such wars. In fact, when he’d learned of their operation—fortunately before much damage could be done to his own organization—he felt respect for the men who had planned such a daring sting.

Respect for everyone but the traitor who’d become his lieutenant. Sighing, he thought once again of Juan. Juan, who’d been like a son to him. Better even than his own sons, because the man had had polish. Juan had accomplished things that his sons and nephews could not. It had been Juan who negotiated the money exchanges with higher-ups, Juan who bought and sold the real properties, Juan who could talk to the patrones and the politicians with more culture and power. Without Juan, the jefe’s connection with the big boss, Governor Garcia, would never have happened. His cartel would’ve been much less powerful.

Congenial and smart, Juan had been a tremendous help. The very idea that he’d been a spy all that time still rankled.

“Jefe, the hombre you wait for, was that him on the phone? El Cuervo de la Muerte? The Raven of Death?” Carlos, one of his men, had sucked up enough courage to interrupt the boss’s thoughts.

He nodded. “Yes, but El Cuervo will find his own time on earth growing short. He has failed in his mission. I have issued orders.”

“El Cuervo did not kill the Anglo? The nosy one?”

The jefe could swear he’d gone over these plans with Carlos earlier. Why couldn’t the man remember even the most important things? Carlos’s incompetence made him think of Juan, and that made him angry again.

“The Raven was supposed to eliminate Colin Fairfax, Juan’s brother. I cannot allow this Fairfax to continue asking questions. He must die. But El Cuervo missed his opportunity.” The jefe spat out the words in a fury. “Twice. The Raven of Death will not live to fail a third time. There are others who can be bought who will not fail.”

Carlos backed up and visibly shivered in his boots. “I do not understand the importance of this Fairfax. Juan is muerto. Why do you care if his brother asks questions? All the world should know el jefe demands respect and loyalty. The punishment for betrayal must be death.” Carlos shrugged, as though the idea was obvious.

The jefe waved his underling away as he had no wish to continue this conversation. The truth was bad enough. He could not afford word of it to spread.

The mistake had not been his fault. How was he to know that the traitor, Juan, had married since he’d disappeared into hiding? No one had heard from Juan for nearly a year when the jefe’s people finally managed to bribe a man who knew of his whereabouts. The minute he had been found, Juan’s fate had been sealed, though the jefe paid extra to make it look like an accident.

Qué carajo! How was he to know about a marriage that had been kept a secret from everyone? The jefe groaned under his breath as he faced his bad luck. Even the killing of an innocent woman should not have been too terrible as collateral damage. Innocent people died in cartel slayings every day.

But it had turned out this woman was special. Of all the people on earth for Juan to have married and died beside, why had he chosen Governor Garcia’s young daughter? And why had she chosen Juan as a means to escape her father?

Thankfully, the young couple had kept their romance quiet. It wasn’t much of a break, but the jefe could use it. Governor Garcia was still looking for his missing daughter and had no idea she’d married. But the powerful man would find out eventually. And then he would not give up until he learned the rest. The governor didn’t have his own black brujo magic the way the jefe did. He couldn’t see the future in the crystals, nor frighten his enemies with hexes and curses, but the governor did have many of his own contacts, and much power. That made it imperative for the jefe to stop nosy questions before the wind could carry the news back to the governor’s ears. All people asking those kinds of questions must disappear.

The jefe’s hands shook as he tried to pour himself a drink. He had also just learned of something else that had the potential to be much worse news for him. Something he had somehow missed months ago and now wasn’t sure he knew how to handle.

It seemed Juan and the governor’s daughter had had a child together. A baby. And that baby lived, despite the “accident” that killed its parents.

Taking a much-needed shot of tequila straight and warm, the way it was meant to be, the jefe felt the familiar burn clear to his gut as he wondered what he should do about the child when he found it. And he would find it. It was only a matter of time.

“What were you thinking?” Maggie shoved at Colin’s chest and narrowed her eyes at him. She should be giving him the evil eye, but he refused to look at her directly.

They’d quit running long enough to stop at the hotel, so Colin could pick up his duffel from the luggage check. Now they were down in Penn Station, trying to stay lost in the crowds. Colin kept his eyes shuttered from her view. She figured that meant he felt guilty for getting them both into that jam back at the bar. Well, he should. That was twice she’d had to save his life.

“Answer me. What the devil possessed you to try meeting with that man again? Are you crazy? Isn’t one attempt on your life enough?”

He folded his arms over his chest, lifted his chin and gave her a cold appraisal. “I couldn’t believe…the man I contacted is an agent for your government. I didn’t expect anyone working for the United States to send an assassin. Rather cheeky of him, if you ask me. I was only trying to find the truth about my brother.”

This wasn’t a joke, darn it. Fuming, she grimaced as she stared him down. His nearness gave her goose bumps, but she wouldn’t put up with any nonsense. She opened her mouth to tell him off, then promptly shut it again. Maggie couldn’t be too hard on him. Not when she understood how devastated he must feel underneath everything else.

Besides, someone wanted him dead. That whole, wild idea made her knees weak.

“Let’s sit a minute and settle down,” she whispered.

They found a quiet alcove, and by some miracle, two empty seats. As Colin plopped both his duffel and himself down, he gave her a quick glance, then began studying his shoes. She could feel the silent grief rolling off him in waves. So he hadn’t trusted her. Big deal. If she’d been in his place, she probably would’ve done the same.

Compassion colored her thoughts, making her heart go all mushy for the poor guy. She decided to give him a break—find a way to keep his mind off of dealing with the guilt.

By talking his ear off. “I have two brothers of my own, you know.”

He shot her a questioning look, and she figured she was on the right track. Give him something else to think about.

“Oh yeah,” she rambled on. “Two big brothers. When we were kids, it was both a blessing and a pain to have them hovering over me all the time. They taught me to ride and rope and swim. The three of us are real products of our environment. Have you ever been to south Texas?”

Without waiting for him to answer—without even taking a second breath—she babbled on. “After being separated for almost fifteen years, all of us are finally living within a few miles of each other. My oldest brother, Josh, he was a Ranger in the army. In Afghanistan. Did you say you were stationed in Afghanistan? You two might have met there.

“Anyway, my other brother, Ethan, was in the Secret Service, guarding big shots like ambassadors, and even the President of the United States on occasion. Both Josh and Ethan are back home in Texas now, helping me with my new business.” Her voice softened. “Josh is married and Ethan is engaged. Both of them are in the process of adopting the kids that came along with the wonderful women in their lives. But that’s another long story. I don’t think you want to—”

Colin lifted his head and raised a hand. “Take a breath before you faint, love.”

Maggie elbowed him in the ribs. She drew in a deep breath and tried to calm down, but kept her eyes trained on Colin’s face. His expression seemed lighter, less sad.

“What kind of accent do you have?” he asked. “I’ve been to a lot of places in the world, but I’ve never heard anything quite like it.”

The idea hit her without warning. He needed to come home with her. Get out of this city and away from whatever danger stalked him. Colin should also take the opportunity to see his brother’s grave and meet his darling baby niece. Maybe if he did all that, it would make him feel a little less guilty about losing track of his brother, give him closure of a sort.

And maybe…Well, if he saw that Emma was happy and healthy and living with people who adored her, maybe he would be more amenable to letting the baby stay where she was.

“The accent’s a mishmash, same as me,” she answered airily. “My granddaddy and Nana Ryan came over from Ireland as a young couple and never lost their Gaelic lilts. I probably picked up a little of their accent when I lived with them.”

She sighed and drew in air. “And my Abuela Lupe, my mom’s mother, speaks with a heavy Spanish accent. She’s living in Mexico now, but she lived with us at the ranch until my mom died when I was fifteen. I learned a lot from her, including how to speak Spanish.”

She had his full attention now. He was staring at her as if he was seeing her for the first time.

“Look,” she began as she rose to her feet. “Why don’t you fly home with me today? You can meet the baby and my family and friends. See your brother’s grave.”

He flinched at the mention of his brother.

With unexpected tears filling her eyes, she had to force herself to continue. “Maybe you’d like to put another headstone on his grave. One with the right name and all.” Lordy, but she sure hoped he wouldn’t want to take his brother’s body back to England. She wanted baby Emma to be able to visit her daddy’s grave when she got old enough to understand.

“Come to Texas with you?” Colin looked a little overwhelmed. But soon enough his eyes cleared and he too stood. “That’s a brilliant idea, Maggie, love.”

“Well…great. Let’s go then.” She turned, but kept right on talking over her shoulder as she picked up her backpack. “We can take the Air Train from here. It’ll get us to the airport in enough time for—”

Colin grabbed her arm, swung her around and pulled her close. Too close. It took her breath away.

“Thank you for saving my life,” he whispered against her lips as he gazed into her eyes. “I’m not sure how you managed all of this yet, but I owe you a debt.”

“Uh. No.” She could barely think while standing this close to the blue and silver highlights in his eyes. “You—”

Breaching the gap between them, he stopped her words—her thoughts, her breathing—by lasering a kiss across her lips. A sudden rush of fire through her veins turned her world upside down, and the unflappable Maggie Ryan finally hit the wall.