Evasive Action (Holding the Line Book 1) Page 4

  “I will.” She nodded. “Pillows?”

  “Not sure if I have extras. I’ll check.”

  “Take your shower. I’ll look in the closet.”

  He retreated to his bedroom, snapping the door shut. He peeled off his uniform and dropped it in the hamper in the bathroom.

  The warm spray of the shower hit him midchest as he stepped under the water. Bracing his hands against the tile, he dropped his head. What was he doing? Inviting April Hart to stay at his place even one night meant trouble.

  He’d never been able to get her out of his mind, out of his heart.

  He scrubbed the grit and dust from his hair, digging into his scalp. Now, he’d have to not forget about her all over again.

  He finished his shower and pulled on some gym shorts and a T-shirt. With any luck, April would be worn out from her drive and the terror of finding that head, and be fast asleep in his guest room.

  He stepped out of the bedroom and peered around the corner at April, camped out on his couch cradling a hot drink, her feet on top of his coffee table. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. Luck had it in for him tonight.

  “Did you find everything you needed for the bed?”

  “All made up, except for the pillows. You don’t have any extra, but that’s okay. I’ll do without.” She tapped her feet together. “I made some tea. Hope you don’t mind.” Her gaze met his above the rim of her cup. “I didn’t know you were a tea drinker.”

  “Those are left over from my mom’s visit.”

  “How’s she doing?” April’s tight smile made it clear she didn’t care how his mom was doing.

  Mom had made it clear how she felt about April ditching her only son, practically at the altar.

  “She’s fine.” His gaze darted to her bare feet propped up on his furniture and back to her face. “What time are you leaving tomorrow?”

  She slid her feet from the table, curled one leg beneath her and then changed her mind, planting both of them on the floor. “In a hurry to get rid of me? Not that I blame you.”

  “Not at all.” He waved his arms around the room in a grand gesture. “Stay as long as you want.”

  Her eyes widened for a second. “Be careful.”

  Pulling back his shoulders, he crossed his arms. He had to get a grip. One side of his mouth curled into a sneer. “Don’t worry. Where you’re concerned, I’m gonna be careful.”

  “Good call, Archer.” She stretched her arms over her head and faked a yawn. “This show is boring, and I’m beat from that drive.”

  “I—I just asked about tomorrow because I have work in the morning.”

  “Whether you’re here or not, I can make my way to my own house.”

  “Okay, I’ll leave it to you. Help yourself to breakfast in the morning.” His shoulders dropped as he walked to the kitchen to get some water. He’d go to work tomorrow, and she’d be gone by the time he returned—out of his life once again.

  He walked into the living room clutching a glass of water and eyeing April, still ensconced on his couch. “Did you leave anything in the car that you need?”

  “No, or just some cash in the cup holder.”

  “Not a great idea. Leaving things in plain sight in your car is what lures thieves to break in.”

  She tipped her head back against the couch cushion. “Hard to move. Must be the beer, or the six-hour drive.”

  “I’ll get it for you.” He pointed at the table to the side of the front door. “Keys to the car?”

  “The only keys I have.”

  “Who does that?” He shook his head as he stalked toward the door and snatched the keys from the table.

  Someone who ran out on two weddings, that’s who.

  He crossed the porch, the warm night air enveloping him as he trooped down the driveway, gravel and dirt crunching beneath each slap of his flip-flops. He pressed the remote, surprised this old beater even had one.

  He yanked the door handle, and the dome light flickered. That would have to be replaced soon, but the car belonged to her friend, didn’t it?

  He shoved his hand in the cup holder, pinching the bills between his fingertips as he pulled them out. His fingers scrabbled in the bottom of the cup holder for any change, tracing the edge of a smooth disc. He grabbed it and pulled it out, cupping it in his palm.

  He held his hand beneath the dome light, and his blood froze in his veins.

  What the hell was April doing with a calling card from Las Moscas?

  Chapter Four

  April pushed up from the couch. Clay was sure taking his sweet time out there. He obviously wanted her to leave and probably wanted her in bed before he even came back into the house—just not his bed.

  But the way he looked at her with that fire in his hazel eyes gave her the same old thrill. He couldn’t hide his attraction to her because he hadn’t been schooled in the art of deception, as she had. It had served her well. She probably could’ve even faked things with Jimmy after what she’d discovered about him—but she hadn’t wanted to try.

  Adam possessed the same skills as she did—learned from the same master. Adam had never given one hint that he knew what Jimmy did for a living. He’d introduced her to Jimmy and built him up to be this great guy...and she’d allowed Jimmy to sweep her off her feet at just the right time in her life.

  Clay burst through the front door, his jaw tight, his face suffused with red rage.

  April jerked back, digging her fingernails into the cushions of the couch. “What’s wrong?”

  “This.” He thrust out his hand, and uncurled his fingers. “Why the hell is this in your car?”

  She sagged against the couch. The token—she’d left the token with the fly carved onto it in the cup holder. So, it wasn’t a coincidence that the headless woman had something similar clutched in her hand.

  “I found it.”

  Clay blinked, and his solid chest heaved. “You found it here? In my driveway?”

  That would make the most sense to him. It would get her out of this particular predicament. She found it in his driveway when she drove up and dropped it in the cup holder, not thinking anything about it.

  That would wipe the angry look from his face and allow her to squirm away from the truth. Sometimes a girl got tired of squirming.

  She folded her hands across her midsection. “No, I didn’t find it in your driveway.”

  “In town, then? On the street?” He spit out possibilities for her, his body stiff and coiled.

  “I found it in my ex-fiancé’s office.”

  The color flooded Clay’s face again, and he squeezed his fist around the wooden disc. “You know what it is, don’t you?”

  “It’s the calling card of Las Moscas.”

  “What does it mean, April? Who’s your ex-fiancé? What have you gotten yourself into?”

  She held up three unsteady fingers. “That’s three questions.”

  “And you’re going to answer all three of them.” He strode past her so fast the ends of her hair stirred.

  Clay dumped the token on the countertop where it clattered with a jarring, accusatory tone. “Start talking. Start telling the truth...for once.”

  “I didn’t know about Jimmy’s involvement with Las Moscas until today. I didn’t even know about Las Moscas until you told me about the cartel.” She hugged herself and sniffed.

  “Jimmy what? What’s his last name?”

  “Verdugo, Jimmy Verdugo.”

  “You met him in Albuquerque?”

  “Yes, when I went to visit Adam.”

  “Visit from where?”

  She lodged the tip of her tongue in the corner of her mouth. It seemed as if Clay planned to use his interrogation to get to the bottom of a few other truths. “I was living in LA.”

  “That’s where you went after.
..you left me?”

  “I got a job in accounting. Lots of accounting jobs there.”

  “You hate accounting.”

  “Had to work.”

  He ran a hand across his face as if to readjust his questioning. “Let me guess. Adam knew what Jimmy was. He probably introduced you.”

  “I just found that out today, too. Adam knew Jimmy was a drug dealer, and he did introduce us.” Her nose stung at the betrayal from her brother and she rubbed the tip.

  “That son of a...” Clay slammed his hand against the counter and the disc skittered across the tile. “How did you find out?”

  “Jimmy was busy this morning, before the wedding. Trying to close out some business for his—” she curled her fingers for air quotes “—import/export business. I took the opportunity to sneak into his office.”

  “You had to sneak into your fiancé’s office?” He rubbed his palm on the thigh of his shorts.

  “I know, right?” She pushed her hair from her face. “I had my suspicions about his business before today, but I thought maybe he was engaging in some shady practices. He never wanted me looking at his accounts, even though I’d offered my services for free.”

  “You’re telling me you snuck into his office, saw his books and figured out he was running drugs?”

  “You of all people know how these guys operate. Obviously not. While I was snooping in his office, I heard him coming down the hallway with his best man and business associate.” She lifted her shoulders. “I hid.”

  “In that wedding dress?” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder toward the spare room.

  “The sliding door to his balcony was open. I stepped outside. If he had pulled those blinds open, I would’ve been finished.” She clenched her teeth against the chill snaking up her spine as she relived that moment of terror.

  “You overheard his conversation with his associate?”

  She dipped her chin to her chest once. “I did, and I got an earful. Did your mother ever tell you not to eavesdrop because you’d never hear anything good about yourself? Yeah, I’m sure your mother told you that.”

  “What did you hear?” Clay’s hazel eyes darkened to deep green, making her pulse flutter.

  “It—it’s kind of unbelievable.” She sank to the couch. “I still have a hard time believing I heard it.”

  “I’m all ears.” He pulled the stool beneath him and straddled it.

  “They talked about a drug deal, a shipment from Mexico, but it sounded like they were going to intercept it or something. From their conversation, there was no doubt in my mind that they planned to hijack this shipment for their own. Is that something Las Moscas would do?”

  Clay scratched his chin. “No. That’s something another organization would do to Las Moscas.”

  “He definitely had the calling card of Las Moscas in his desk. I stole that before I left.”

  “Maybe Jimmy’s a member of the cartel, and he and his best man are planning a big double-cross.”

  She put a hand to her throat. “That doesn’t sound like it’s going to end well for Jimmy and Gilbert.”

  “Do you care?” He wedged his hands on his knees and hunched forward.

  “About Jimmy? No.” She drew her knees up to her chest, digging her heels into the cushion of the couch—and Clay didn’t even object. “He was using me, Clay. The courtship, the engagement, the wedding—all a big farce. Jimmy never cared about me. He set me up, or Adam set me up.”

  “Set you up for what?” Clay cocked his head to one side. “What do you have to offer Jimmy Verdugo, a drug dealer? You didn’t win the lottery after you left me, did you?”

  She swallowed. Every time he said that she left him, the knife twisted deeper into her gut.

  “Not money. Connections.”

  His eyebrows shot up to a lock of dark hair curling on his forehead. “What connections? Your drug-addled brother? Did he think Adam could provide him with a steady stream of clients?”

  “Not my brother. My father.”

  “Your father?” The crease between his eyes deepened. “What the hell does your father have to do with any of this? He disappeared ten years ago after he murdered your mother.”

  She wrapped her arms around her legs and touched her forehead to her knees. “The authorities never proved he killed her.”

  “I’m not going down that road with you again, April. What did Jimmy Verdugo want with your father?”

  “You know how everyone said my father went to Mexico when he vanished?”

  “Yeah, which is why most people around here believe he’s guilty.”

  She balanced her chin on her knees. “Well, Jimmy and Gilbert believe he’s some big-time drug lord down there.”

  “What?” Clay hopped from the stool and sat on the edge of the coffee table in front of her. “That’s crazy.”

  “They mentioned a name, a nickname. You must know it. El Gringo Viejo.”

  The color ebbed from Clay’s tawny complexion. “Jimmy thinks your father, C. J. Hart, is El Gringo Viejo?”

  “So, you do know him.”

  “Every Border Patrol and every DEA agent knows of El Gringo Viejo.”

  “Given what you know about him, could he be my father?”

  Clay raised his eyes to the ceiling as if running through facts and dates. “As far as we know, El Gringo Viejo started operating about eight years ago.”

  “That fits my father’s timeline. He’d have been down there eight years ago.”

  “He moves around a lot. His people are loyal.”

  “Is he part of Las Moscas? From what Jimmy and Gilbert said, it didn’t sound like it.”

  “He’s not part of a cartel. He provides high-quality product to everyone, and lets them figure it out among themselves. He’s a freelancer.”

  “Jimmy was convinced enough to date me and marry me.”

  “That Jimmy must’ve been some kind of smooth operator.” A muscle flickered at the corner of Clay’s mouth, and April wanted to press her lips against it.

  She’d settled for Jimmy because he’d been a Clay clone. Adam didn’t admit it on the phone, but he most likely trained Jimmy to push all of her buttons. She’d never love anyone the way she’d loved Clay—still loved him.

  “I’m pretty sure right now that Adam coached Jimmy into my heart.” She laced her fingers together, and her knuckles blanched.

  “I’m sorry.” Clay covered her hands with one of his own. “Adam needs an ass-kicking. He must believe this garbage about your father.”

  “We didn’t have a chance to talk about it, but I’m sure he does. He may have even been the one to convince Jimmy of it.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me any of this when you showed up here? Especially when I told you about the carving of the fly?”

  “I was getting ready to tell you—most of it, anyway, even though it made me look like a fool.”

  “Join the club.”

  Her eye twitched. “But then Adam called.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He told me if I told anyone about Jimmy and his business, Jimmy would kill Adam...and me.”

  Clay reached forward and wrapped his fingers around her ankle just below the elastic of the green sweats. “Did this guy ever threaten you before?”

  “Never.”

  “But he raised your suspicions somehow. That’s why you had to sneak into his office and eavesdrop on him.”

  “It was just the finances. He was always so vague about his business. Being an accountant—which you’re right, I hate—I was curious about his numbers. He brought in a lot of money, lived a lavish lifestyle.”

  “Is that how he seduced you?” His fingers tightened around her ankle briefly before he released her.

  “Are you calling me a gold digger?” She narrowed her eyes and curled her toes in
to the cushion of the couch.

  “I don’t blame you for wanting someone to take care of you. What Jimmy offered must’ve been attractive after what you’ve been through.”

  “I admit, the money made his life seem easy—people to handle the pesky details, private trainers, personal chefs, private jet. I was living in some kind of fairy tale until I woke up in that office and realized how fake everything was—including my feelings for Jimmy.”

  “I’m assuming Jimmy knows you ditched the wedding because you found out about him and his motives. Can Adam spin it? You got cold feet? Hell, it is kind of a pattern for you.” Clay smacked his palm against his chest. “In fact, this is what I recommend you do. Call Jimmy and apologize for running out. Tell him you’re not ready. Tell him you went back to your ex.”

  April’s heart skipped a beat. If only.

  “How long did you know him before the wedding?”

  “Six months.” She pulled her hair back from her face. “This could work.”

  “Perfect. You were too hasty.” Clay pushed off the table and stepped over it on his way to the kitchen. “Do you think that moron brother of yours kept his mouth shut about you? He needs to convince Jimmy you don’t know anything about his dirty business.”

  “I don’t think he told Jimmy I eavesdropped on the conversation with Gilbert.” She twisted her fingers. “I did take that carving, though. He probably missed it.”

  “Where was it?”

  “It was one of several in his desk.”

  “Maybe he won’t miss it. What would it mean to you, anyway?” Clay turned around, his phone in his hand. “You didn’t tell Jimmy I was Border Patrol, did you?”

  “I didn’t tell Jimmy anything about you, other than I had been engaged before and ended things right before the wedding.” April folded her hands and pinned them between her knees. She hadn’t wanted to tell Jimmy anything about Clay—never even told him his name.

  “That’s good.” He held up the phone. “Do you think it’s too late to call Adam and warn him to stay quiet?”

  “I can’t believe Adam even kept your number in his phone.”

  “Probably insurance. Figured I could get him out of a jam if he ever needed the help.”