Alejandro (12 page)

After thanking the attorney, Audrey, Mrs. MacGruber, and Angel walked out of the office.

Mel met them at the doorway. “All finished?”

Audrey nodded. “It’s over. I think we’d like to get some lunch now.”

“I have an appointment I have to get to,” Mrs. MacGruber announced. “But I’d like to see Angel before you leave.”

Angel threw himself onto the woman’s legs, clutching them tightly. “Don’t go, Nana Gruber!”

The sight brought fresh tears to Audrey’s eyes. The boy loved his Nana Gruber.

The woman stooped to hold him in her arms. “I’ll see you real soon, my boy. You behave for your aunt, you hear me?”

Angel nodded. He turned toward Audrey, his face solemn. Tears stung the back of Audrey’s eyes. Even though the two of them had grown closer over the past couple of days, Audrey still felt as if her status as aunt was secondary to Mrs. MacGruber — that Angel would put up with her only because
Nana Gruber
had asked him to. Audrey took the boy’s hand in hers and followed Mel to the elevators. Penny had also displayed a begrudging attitude when Audrey was given permission to be her guardian.
Why am I always the bad guy?

****

Ale snatched a rag from his back pocket and wiped the grease off his fingers. “Try it now,” he ordered his coworker behind the wheel. Ale watched the engine as the car revved to life, bringing a smile to his face.

His coworker laughed as he exited the vehicle. He slapped Ale on the back, acknowledging his work on the engine.

Well, at least something’s going right today
. He fixed car after car, with little chance to see Trujillo. In fact, Trujillo arrived late to the garage and left after an hour. He’d been back only once before taking his lunch break. Typically, he’d run his schedule by Ale.
What’s he keeping from me now?
The more Trujillo concealed, the more Ale’s nerves were on edge.

Chatting with the guys yielded nothing new. None of them had done any “overtime” for Trujillo, which meant whoever followed him to Lana’s was an outside contact. Ale replayed the scene between himself, Carlos, and Trujillo the night before. Carlos had been visibly upset when informed of Lana’s death. He’d known her years before. What was the nature of their relationship? Asking Carlos about how he knew Lana would raise a red flag, but Ale decided to risk the consequences. Perhaps he’d discover more about Trujillo in the process.

After work, and a clandestine meeting with DEA contacts, Ale was still considering his plan when he walked into the safe house long past nightfall. For the first time in months, he felt as if he could sleep standing up. Tonight, he’d finally rest.

Setting the keys to his motorcycle on the kitchen island, he suddenly remembered dinner. He wished the meal hadn’t come to mind because just then, he heard his stomach growl — loudly. Too tired to cook, he searched for a packet of cookies when he spotted it. A note on the microwave. Snatching the sticky note, he read the short memo written by a feminine hand.
Dinner in the microwave
. “She didn’t.”

“I did.”

Ale jumped and rotated to find Audrey standing behind him, arms crossed over her chest, a mock scowl on her face. “Honey, you’re late.”

Ale laughed so hard he’d consider the embarrassment later. He was tired, and she wouldn’t have to say much and he’d have another laughing fit. “I don’t believe it.”

Audrey pointed to the microwave. “Check it, if you want.”

Feeling the same level of excitement as when his mother used to cook his favorite meal, Ale quickly turned toward the microwave and eyed the buttons. “I’m not sure how long—”

“Here, let me.” Using her hip, she nudged him out of the way and set the timer.

After about a minute, he inhaled the warm scent of — no — beef roast? Really? When did she have time to fix a roast?

Audrey busied herself in the kitchen, unwrapping something covered in foil and placing it into the microwave on the plate of food before the timer resumed the countdown. When the bell chimed, Audrey used a potholder to remove the plate of steaming food. She set the plate down on the island in front of him, and then added a napkin, fork, and knife, and ended with a tall glass of iced tea. Tea. Did he have tea?

Beef roast, mashed potatoes, green beans — and a roll. Mouth watering and sleepiness gone, Ale eagerly snatched up the fork and knife, unsure of where to start. When was the last time he had a home-cooked meal? Cooked by someone so…

Robe.

Audrey had on a thick robe, which probably hid that alluring nightgown he so clearly remembered from the previous night. He smirked. Guess she was making it obvious that a repeat of last night wasn’t going to happen tonight. As if a robe could stop him.

“You’re not hungry?”

Meeting her eyes, he nodded. “This looks…” He paused, unsure if his choice of words would accurately describe his gratitude.

Audrey sat on a stool opposite him. “Just eat. And thank you.”

Forgetting his table manners, Ale wolfed down the greens first, and then inhaled the mashed potatoes, leaving the best for last. He took his time with the roast, savoring each tender, juicy bite as if it were made by loving hands for his personal consumption. Meat fit for a king. “What happened at the attorney’s office?” he asked between bites, becoming aware of Audrey’s stare as he ate.

With downcast eyes, Audrey smoothed the same tendril of hair behind her ear as if she’d missed it the first few times. When she found her voice, it held a mix of sadness and exhaustion. “Penny had arranged everything — as if she knew she wasn’t going to live much longer.” Audrey coughed and put her hands over her eyes. Before he could move from his chair to do what he swore he wouldn’t do — hold her — she dragged her fingers through her hair and continued. “Did you know my sister had more than twenty thousand dollars saved?”

Ale paused mid-chew. “How much?” he asked around the food in his mouth.

“Twenty thousand. She established a trust fund for Angel.”

“Where did she get twenty grand?”

Audrey shrugged, clearly perplexed. “I was hoping you could answer that. Was she a paid informant?”

Another one of his mistakes in handling Lana. He didn’t even pay her. In fact, he hadn’t offered her a dime for her services, and she had ended up paying with her life. Ale swallowed the flesh in his mouth, his appetite dwindling. “No, I didn’t.”

“Well, now it’s Angel’s.”

They lapsed into silence. Could the money have come from Trujillo? Lana was his woman, but that was five years ago. Perhaps he gifted her jewelry, which she sold. “Where’s the will?”

Audrey hopped off the stool. “I’ll go get it.”

In less than a minute, she returned with an envelope. Without thinking, Ale took it from her hand, and in the process, managed to brush a few of his fingers over hers. Strange, her hands were cold. He gave her a quick glance. Still in that robe. She had to be warm, or at least comfortable. Her hands weren’t cold last night—

“There isn’t much to it other than the trust fund and a few personal belongings that are most likely at her house. I assume I can’t return to pick them up?”

“Not yet.”

Audrey sighed and waited for him to finish studying the form.

Like she said, nothing there. “There wasn’t anything else?”

Audrey bit her lip, her eyes going to the ceiling. She let out an audible pause. It was a simple yes or no question. What was she hiding?

“Audrey?”

She shook her head. “Other than the morbid good-bye letter, I don’t think so. Why? Wouldn’t she have told you everything she knew about Trujillo and the drugs?”

Apparently not.
Only Lana would know how much in the dark he was about Trujillo — and now Carlos. “She may have left a few things out.”

Audrey nodded. “Like Angel.”

“Like you.”

Audrey blinked. “Huh? What would I have to do with any of this?”

Swallowing the last of the roast, Ale made a grunting sound of satisfaction before leaning back and lazily crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t know, you tell me. Why would she contact a sister out of the blue, whom she hasn’t spoken to in how many years? And ask her to take her child?”

“Wait a minute—”

“You said it yourself — she hated you.” He hadn’t meant to sound so accusatory, but Lana’s actions didn’t make any sense, and he couldn’t take the chance she might have told her beautiful sister something that Trujillo now knew — if Lana talked.

And he couldn’t assume she hadn’t.

Audrey’s soft, pouty lips hardened into a thin line. Sapphire eyes iced, and fists balled on the counter. Ale now believed she was telling the truth. Whatever she knew, she’d have come forward for her sister’s sake.

“I don’t have to listen to this.”

He moved to block her exit.

“Out of my way,” she ordered while backing up to the opposite counter, a flash of fear in her eyes.

“Afraid I’ll kiss you again? Don’t worry, there’s no chance of that happening.” He ignored the look of hurt in her gaze. It was for
his
own good. “Understand that I have to be sure. What Trujillo said the other night… your sister might have detailed the whole operation to him, including your arrival and subsequent guardianship of Angel.”

Audrey was looking at him funny. Her eyes had narrowed before widening, and at one point she was smiling, and then wasn’t.

“What?”

A soft smile rounded her cheeks, making them look — he wanted to run kisses down them.

“You said his name?”

Frustrated that he allowed himself to yet again be distracted by her beauty, he set his hands on his hips and spat, “Who?”

“Angel. You never say his name.”

No, I guess I don’t
. No reason to get attached.

“Why don’t you like children?”

He blinked. “What? Who said I didn’t like children?”

Audrey shrugged, a curious look in her eye. “Well, when you have an antipathy to saying a child’s name, one has to wonder the root cause.”

“What? Are you a psychologist?”

“Child developmental specialist, actually.”

“I like kids,” he muttered.
Why am I having this conversation?

“Good. Because he waited all day for you to come back and teach him how to fight.” She rolled her eyes as she said the word “fight.”

“Not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’m in the middle of an operation here. You might want to explain that to him,” he ground out. Infuriated with how he’d lost control of the discussion, he snatched the plate and glass off the island and nearly threw them into the sink.

“Why not explain it to him yourself? Little boys idolize cops and firefighters. I’m sure it will help him take his mind off…”

Anger ebbing, he considered her request. For two seconds. “You know what makes undercover work?” he asked, turning toward her. She shook her head no. “
Not getting attached
.”

“No attachments.”

“None.”

Hands on her small hips, she asked the question he’d been asking himself all day. “Then what was last night?”

Phenomenal. Just a kiss. Utterly repeatable. I was tired and frustrated and you were in a nightgown…
Last night he’d shut the debate down and decided to just act on instinct. Should he start something with Audrey?
No.
Especially because she’d want him to finish it, and he’d eventually leave her.

Leave her and Angel.

Leave her and the kid.

Whatever. He couldn’t risk his focus or her heart. His heart? Safely secure. This — what he was ready to do — would just be… His hands gripping the counter on either side of her, she was trapped. Her gaze held none of the fear he’d seen moments before. A fire of sorts. Desire? He’d felt it in her kiss, the way she pressed into him. Perhaps she wanted it as much as he did. No need to call Ruby. “What do you want it to be?” The raw need in his voice surprised him. He was used to staying in control. Annoyed over the lack of longing in her eyes, he’d have to pace himself — ease her into it. His eyes dropped to her robe, wrapped tightly around her frame. First, he’d have to ease her out of this.

Eyelids low, nostrils flared, her voice was soft and husky. “I want it to never happen again.”

He jerked back as if she’d slapped him.
What?
First he couldn’t read Trujillo, and now this woman. He
was
losing it.

She took his momentary lapse in concentration and slipped beneath his arm and darted out of the kitchen — leaving
his
eyes to shoot darts at
her
back.

Chapter Seven

THE creak of his door propelled Ale out of REM sleep and into the world. Not making a sound, his hand slowly slipped beneath his pillow to grasp the steel butt of his Glock. How did someone get in? Had he slept so heavily he missed the sounds of everything but the door to his room?
Audrey
. Was she in danger? What about the boy?
Dear God, if I was fast asleep while someone was hurting them… Please, please, please let them be okay
. His mother had prayed quite often, but Ale never really saw the point.

Until now.

Ale stilled his breathing, waiting for a clear shot of the intruder. A dark head atop a — wait, less than three-foot-tall person? — poked through the crack between the door and the frame.

“Marshal?” The tiny trespasser tiptoed into the room.

Tension quickly ebbing away, Ale almost laughed out loud at the little ninja. Angel’s noiseless footsteps approached his bed, his back hunched as he crept along some invisible path. “Marshal!” the boy whispered loudly.

“Hmm?” Ale reached for his cell on the nightstand next to his bed. He unlocked the screen and read the time. Five a.m. He’d actually slept five hours.
How in the world…
Thanks were due to the woman who had prepared a tasty meal that no doubt put him into a coma for three hundred precious minutes. Guilt struck him fast and hard. He should’ve expressed his gratitude last night in the form of words and not… Well, he hadn’t succeeded. Instead, the woman had run out on him, and there was nothing left for him to do now other than apologize or their relationship would be more awkward than it already was.