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Javier made a gagging sound.
Yip.
“Miss Fields, how did you come to be in Mexico?” Abdul’s expression was mocking. He had nothing but contempt for the woman who got herself kidnapped.
“I was invited to attend a resort opening.”
Ignacio beamed proudly. “My latest property.” He kissed the tips of his finger. “So beautiful.”
What? Ignacio owned the resort? Had my kidnapping been planned? A scheme from the very beginning? Maybe. Probably. But Marta’s death hadn’t been part of the plan. The Zetas had colored outside the lines with that. “The resort is yours?”
“I own a majority interest. Abdul and his people own the rest.”
Everything stilled. Everything. My heart. My blood. My vision. The men around me were frozen in time.
What better way to launder drug money than through resorts? The managers could overstate the number of rooms booked. And drinks served. And meals eaten. No one would look askance at a large amount of U.S. dollars—the tourists brought them.
Who did Brett Cannon work for? Ignacio or Abdul? Either way, he worked for a criminal. Was he the one who’d alerted Javier I was headed to the airport? And what about Agent Gonzales who’d refused to return my passport? Was he in Ignacio’s pocket?
The butterflies tied more knots.
Yip.
I found my voice. “This—” I waved my hand at the elegant dining room “—my coming here was planned before I set foot in Mexico?”
“I was delighted you accepted my invitation.”
“Why me?” A stupid question. The answer was hanging on the wall wearing a red dress and a mantilla. I nodded toward Chariss’ portrait. “I saw her on the news. She’s worried sick.”
A shadow crossed over Ignacio’s face. “I’ll make it up to her.”
That shadow was nothing compared to the thunderstorm on Abdul’s face. “You risked our investment for this eahira?
Given his tone, it was easy to guess what eahira meant.
Ignacio’s hand slammed against the table. The silverware jumped. The water in the goblets jumped. I jumped. “No more talking.”
Somehow I managed a few bites of fish. Sawdust flavored fish.
Lunch lasted another thirty interminable minutes.
At the end, I’d consumed three bites of fish and two bites of rice. Not a single bit of slaw.
Javier rose from his chair and extended his hand to me. “A quick tour, then I must attend to business.”
Abdul scowled. Deeply.
Javier looked mildly amused.
I stood and took Ignacio’s hand.
“This way.” He led me through the house, past rooms I’d not yet seen. Past an ornate office. Past an arsenal. Past the kitchen where men ate at an enormous farmhouse table. They stood was we passed.
Outside, Ignacio tucked my hand into the crook of his arm and looked down at my shoes. “You’re not dressed for the stable.”
“No.”
“Perhaps a short walk then I must deal with Abdul.”
“A walk would be lovely. I haven’t been outside since—” I touched my cheek.
“Javier was keeping you safe.”
Javier was keeping an eye on me.
“You have a lovely home.”
“Gracias.”
We walked down a crushed gravel path that meant sure destruction for the Jimmy Choos covering my feet.
I wobbled.
Ignacio steadied me.
I smiled up at him with one of Chariss’ smiles. “I think you are my mother’s biggest fan.”
“I am.”
“Why Chariss?”
“She’s the most beautiful woman in the world. And, what an actress. When her eyes fill with tears, I cry. When she laughs, I feel her joy. When she is angry, my fists clench with fury.”
Who could argue with that?
“Here we are. My babies.”
We stood in front of a fifteen-foot tall fence. On the other side, two lions lounged. The male regarded me with golden eyes then yawned. The female ignored me completely.
“Someday, I will have a private zoo. But for now, they are enough.”
“That fence will hold them?” The lions were enormous. Their wildness barely contained by the bars that held them.
He gave me an indulgent smile. “The fence will hold them.”
“They’re beautiful.”
“As are you, my dear.” He glanced at his watch and frowned. “I must deal with Abdul. What would you like to do this afternoon?”
“May I ride?” If there was a trail off this mountain, I’d find it.
“Yes, yes, whatever you wish.” For an instant, the drug lord standing next to me looked almost shy. “I brought you a few gifts. They’re in your room. I hope you will do me the honor of wearing them tonight. Dinner is at eight.”
How could I say no?
Planning my escape on horseback with four armed sicarios riding next to me proved impossible.
After a couple of hours, we returned to the stables then I returned to my room.
Wrapped packages covered every inch of the bed.
I pulled the largest one toward me and slid my finger under the taped edge of the wrapping paper. Folding the paper back revealed a Valentino box. Valentino—Chariss’ favorite designer.
A gown in the softest shade of lavender lay swaddled in tissue paper. I didn’t dare touch the fabric—not with hands fresh from the stable.
I opened a smaller box. Inside lay a triple strand of enormous South Sea pearls held together with a diamond clasp. Other boxes held a matching bracelet and earrings. Ignacio was a generous gift giver.
I showered away the horse smell, did my hair and make-up, and put on the dress. It was too short. I’d have to wear flat sandals.
The pearls—being pearls—were just right.
I glanced at the Rolex watch Javier provided when I arrived. Still thirty minutes to go. But, without Consuela, my room was lonely. And boring. When I tried the door to the hall, I found it unlocked. I slipped out into the hallway walked toward the dining room.
Voices stopped me.
Loud voices.
Angry voices.
Unintelligible voices except for one word. Venti.
I backed away—quickly—turning on my heel and hurrying toward my bedroom as if pursued by a pack of killer Chihuahuas. Being bored and alone was better than getting caught eavesdropping.
I opened the door. “Eeeek!”
A sicario, on his hands and knees next to my bed, regarded me with a slack jaw and wide eyes.
I pressed my hands against my chest. “What are you doing?” I demanded. I knew the answer. He was here at Javier’s behest. Searching my room.
The man gaped at me.
“Why are you here?” Outrage. I needed to sound outraged. “Why are you in my room?”
“Consuela lost her collar.”
Seriously? That was the best he could come up with? He should have pretended not to understand English.
“I don’t think it’s in here.” My smile said I believed his lie.
“I have to look.”
“Sorry to disturb you. I forgot my lipstick.” I hurried into the bathroom, grabbed a tube, then went into the closet and lifted the amethyst Baker Street bag off its shelf.
With the sicario watching, I dropped the lipstick into the bag. “Now I’m ready for dinner.” Sounding carefree—that was the ticket. Not giving the man a hint as to my galloping nerves—that was the other ticket. “I hope you find her collar.” I waved gaily and sashayed out the door with the weight of his stare draped across my shoulders like a mink stole.
Ignacio, wearing a suit to rival one of Javier’s bespoke ensembles, met me in the hall. “I was on my way to escort you to dinner.”
“How thoughtful.”
“What’s that?” He pointed to the bag in my hand.
“A handbag. It looks like a pretty rock doesn’t it?” I opened the bag and handed it to him.
He glanced at my lipstick then returned the bag. “Nowhere near as lovely as you.”
Blech. “You’re too kind.”
He tucked my hand into the crook of his arm. “Abdul will leave in the morning and then we’ll have plenty of time together.”
Double blech. I manufactured a smile.
Ignacio led me to the dining room where Abdul and Javier waited. Both men wore suits that probably
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