Bounty Hunters: 03 Stay Hungry (21 page)

"They wouldn't already have him?" Angela's tone rose as she spoke.

Angela loved her father; the bond between the two of them was tight. Jake didn't need to see the two of them together to guess what Angela had with her father was close to what Jake had with his.

"I don't see how they would have him. I just talked to him." Jake kept her phone in his hand and walked around the table, picking his phone up, too. He stared at both of them, knowing Angela was watching him. "Is your father so arrogant he would think it wasn't crucial for me to know where he was going?"

"My father isn't arrogant," Angela snapped. "He might be confident. He's the best there is. But mister, he isn't any cockier than you are."

If he weren't so focused trying to work his brain around this he might have smiled at the expression on Angela's face.

"If I were dodging someone who'd just decided a mark should be on my head, I'd let my backup know where I was." He gestured with the phones in his hands, ignoring her comment. There was a difference between being cocky and simply knowing you were good. He'd tell anyone that, but changing the subject would make him lose his train of thought and there was something not right with everything that just had played out. He needed to figure out what it was. "So if you don't tell your backup what you're doing--"

"You're my backup."

"I'm not his," Jake finished, staring into Angela's milky gaze. "So if he'd plotted to do something, he might not have put either of us in the loop."

"What?" she whispered.

"Maybe it wouldn't cross his mind to do it." Although it was a rather stupid move. Jake kept that thought to himself, though. "All I know is that if he were checking into a room he would be checked in by now. I can't think of any hotel that would be this slow."

"Unless he thinks our phones aren't safe." She glanced pointedly at the cell phones Jake held in each of his hands.

Jake held his phone up, capturing her tentative stare at the same time and holding it as he spoke. "There is a scrambler in my cell phone, as there is in all of our phones with KFA. Anyone who tries tapping in on our phone conversations will be blessed with a high-pitched, incredibly annoying whine in their ear." He grinned and Angela cocked one eyebrow and tilted her head, giving him the impression she found him either amusing or annoying. Jake was sure he was both, although at the moment he was serious. "Is your phone censored at all?"

"That's a track phone," she explained, nodding at her phone in his other hand. "It's not my real number. I started a new account when I took up residency here. If Mario does a search on me, and I was sure he would, there would be no way he would be able to trace my true identity. Does Dad know your phone is scrambled?"

"Well, obviously you weren't thorough enough." Although when Jake had done a search on her real name, he hadn't found any pictures of her.

When she sucked in a ragged breath, her gaze faltered as she looked away from him. "What picture do you think he's talking about?"

"I've been looking," Jake said, returning his attention to the laptop screen.

"You didn't find it? I guessed that was what you were doing on my laptop when I was listening to Mario and Bobby's conversation. And I don't have a clue what picture they were talking about. There shouldn't be anything anywhere on the Internet that connects me to my father." Before Jake could say anything, Angela marched around the table and held out her hand. "I need to call my dad. Let me use your phone if it scrambles phone calls. We'll search for the picture after a bit. First we secure my father."

Jake placed his phone in her palm but then wrapped his fingers around her hand with his cell in it when she tried pulling away. "Your father doesn't know my phone is scrambled. He might not answer and that might explain why he hasn't called back. If he feels he's being hunted, he might cut himself off from us to protect you."

"I have to know he is okay." She wasn't pleading. There was a firmness in her tone Jake was growing accustomed to hearing. Her father might be an arrogant son of a bitch, but something told Jake he seldom crossed his daughter.

Jake let go of her hand. "Call him."

Angela punched numbers into Jake's phone, then slowly lifted her gaze to his when she put his phone to her ear. He heard it ring, once, twice, three times, as their gazes remained locked. Her anxiety climbed with each ring. Huxtable wasn't going to answer. It was damn near impossible that Mandela would have snagged him considering the time frame. Jake couldn't kick the feeling he was missing something, though.

"Damn it," she whispered, ending the call when it went to voice mail and slowly lowering his phone. Angela snagged her phone from Jake, giving his phone back to him, and punched numbers again.

Jake reached out and stroked her damp hair over her shoulder, enjoying the cool silkiness of it. Angela didn't stop him; in fact, she barely appeared to notice the gesture as she chewed her lip and focused on his chest as she listened to the phone ring.

"God damn it!" she cried out, tossing her phone on the table when no one answered. "Where the hell is he?"

She began pacing but stopped when she neared Jake. "You're the bounty hunter. You're part of KFA. My God, you're damn near a household word," she said, narrowing her gaze on him as if that were an accusation. "Find my dad, Jake. We're not brainstorming or searching for a damned picture until I know he's okay." Her expression more than challenged Jake. With a look, Angela showed him she actually would try kicking his ass if he countered her.

Once again, that tightening in his gut hit him. It spread to his chest, making it hard to breathe for a moment. He would go out in the night and track Huxtable down, whatever it took to calm that frantic look on her face.

"Can you think of a reason your father would lead me to believe he just woke up and it not be true?"

She blinked, exhaling. "I'm sure there could be many reasons."

"Think, Angela. I need to know where to start hunting." When she noticeably relaxed, the tightness inside him grew hot, spreading throughout his body faster than he could take his next breath.

"Okay," she breathed, giving him a quick smile that might have been anything from gratitude to an apology for her offhanded comment. Her milky green eyes showed the turmoil flooding her system. Angela was holding on by a thread and unwilling to show him how much this turn of events affected her. "When he's working a case," she paced to the other end of the room and took her time turning around as she continued speaking, "which is what he's doing right now--"

"You know where he is right now?" he demanded. "What the hell?"

"No!" Angela snapped, her voice sharp. She shot a hostile look at him.

"You aren't making any sense."

"I don't know where he is." Angela looked at him, her expression lined with worry. "Jake, please find him."

He knew at that moment he'd do anything to make her happy. He should take time to analyze the emotions ransacking his system, but now wasn't the time.

"I will, sweetheart," he promised, closing the distance between them. "But you aren't making sense. You said something about his case..."

"Yes." She tucked damp hair behind her ear and appeared to be focusing on his neck. "The missing persons case for Marianna."

"Yes."

"I know he's finding my half-sister." She walked around him, still not focusing on him. "Marianna and I grew up together and he knows how much I love her. When I was sixteen, I moved here to live with Dad, and Marianna and I fell out of touch. She was the perfect little sister. I remember I missed her terribly at first, but Dad and I got to be so close, and I fell in love with the mysteries he would share with me. As soon as I was able, I started working with him, which was long before I was legally able to work a case. Dad would let me do the little things, although they didn't seem so little at the time. I would write down all the clues, or lay out clothes he would wear while undercover. I remember how important that made me feel." Her back was to him when she sighed, lost in her memories. "But Marianna was the perfect kid sister. She never was too far from my thoughts. So when we started talking on the computer, we were instantly best friends and I loved her to death all over again. She is still so absolutely perfect."

"Has your father shared any leads with you? Has he mentioned where he was with this case?"

Angela made a snorting sound and looked at him. "He didn't even want to tell me he was looking for her. He thought it would distract me from this case."

Jake knew damn good and well how it felt to have family members in danger during the heat of a case. More than once they'd been hot on a trail, ready to crack everything wide open and bring down their guy, when one of them had gone missing. It was one hell of a distraction. Each time it had happened, it had created a fever of intensity in him that burned so hot he would have done whatever it took to bring his family home and back together. He wouldn't go there, though. This wasn't about him.

He didn't realize he'd been scowling at the ground until Angela cursed under her breath. She spun around, turning on him. Jake moved in on her but she warded him off with her hands.

"When Dad is hot on the trail, or is ready to break that big lead, he forgets about the rest of the world. He'd forget to eat if I didn't put a sandwich in his hand as he was hurrying out the door," she said, her eyes suddenly bloodshot. "He really is amazing. Watching him in action can be breathtaking at times."

"So maybe he's hot on the trail of his missing-person case?"

Angela opened her mouth to answer when her cell phone chimed and vibrated across the table at the same time. She jumped on it as if it were alive and she needed to catch it before it ran off.

"It's Dad," she sang out, giving Jake a toothy grin as she answered it before it rang twice. "Where in the hell are you?" she snapped, her smile disappearing so fast Jake wouldn't have noticed it if he hadn't been watching her. "Dad!" she shouted, but then pulled the phone from her ear, staring at it with a mystified look on her face.

"What did he say?"

She looked at Jake, frowning. "He said he was fine and not to worry about him, then hung up."

Chapter Eleven

Angela fought the covers when her undercover cell phone woke her up from a troubled sleep. She had been haunted by dreams of Marianna and her dad. Marianna was crying out to Angela, begging for help. Then her father was next to her, insisting she not worry. In the next instance both of them were gone. Angela had never felt so alone. So incredibly alone. No matter where she looked she couldn't find either one of them. She was all by herself. Angela woke up with a knot in her gut. Her phone was still on the table and her room was cold as she hurried to grab it.

"Hello," she grumbled, her voice rough and her mouth too dry. Her heart still pounded in her chest, with her dream still fresh in her mind.

"Where did you go last night?" Mario asked.

Angela went blank as she fought to remember what excuse she'd planned on giving Mario when she talked to him next. She'd prepared a script in her head she would play out in order to convince Mario she had seen nothing other than a fight between him and his hired help, which had upset her terribly. The trauma from her dream prevented her from remembering the convincing words she'd planned to use on Mario.

"What time is it?" she asked, instead of answering him, and headed to the bathroom.

"It's early." Mario didn't sound upset. He didn't sound anything, which caused the knot in her gut to grow. "We need to talk."

"Okay." After she drank about a pot of coffee. She stared at her tangled hair and the extra-large T-shirt that hung crookedly on her. "I need time to wake up, Mario. I didn't sleep well."

"Because of me." He wasn't apologizing for upsetting her, was he?

It hadn't crossed Angela's mind that Mario might try to convince her no one was killed last night. That thought didn't wake her up completely, but it definitely zapped her brain, giving her somewhat of a kick start.

She rubbed her face with her palm and sighed. Some of the lines she planned on using on him came to her as she stood barefoot on the cold bathroom tile. "Not completely," she said, taking her time answering. It would make her sound more sincere. "I know we both agreed we were in this for fun and the adventure," she began, pausing and listening to the silence on the other end of the line.

Mario's willingness to hear her out could mean a couple things. Maybe he was waiting to hear if she would comment on his murdering a man in cold blood. Or, if Mario believed he'd found her picture on the Internet, he'd hear whatever she planned on saying to him, then calculate how to use it against her, which he'd do in person. His MO didn't suggest he'd make idle threats. When Mario struck, it was with venom meant to kill.

"And you've been nothing but honest with me since we first met," she added, leaning against the counter and staring at her bloodshot eyes. She couldn't remember what time it had been when Jake had left or even crashing. "I know you have to be ruthless sometimes in order to control the business you run," she finished, deciding leaving it vague over the phone and keeping the conversation open would make it easier to pick up where she left off once her brain was awake.

"I'm coming to you. Be ready. We'll discuss this more in person." There was no emotion in his voice. His baritone was dark and sounded ruthless.

"I need a shower and time to get ready. Give me an hour."

Although she was grateful that he agreed, forty-five minutes later she still didn't feel ready to take him on. Her dreams had taunted her until she woke up again. After showering, dressing, and downing her second cup of hotel room coffee, which was mediocre at best, she still didn't feel coherent.

Staring at her destroyed bed, she thought it looked as if she'd had wild sex in it the night before. Images of Jake filled her mind along with memories of him getting her off with his fingers while he held her in his arms.

"Jake," she whispered, her voice still scratchy. It was barely eight in the morning, but she needed to let him know she was heading out. She'd demanded he find her father. It wouldn't surprise her if Jake were already hot on her father's trail. Suddenly she was frantic to talk to him. Bounty hunting was illegal in Illinois. Granted, he wasn't going after anyone for a bounty, but Angela knew there were cops in Chicago with serious attitudes.

Angela admitted she no longer wished to work this case alone as she listened to Jake's phone ring. It wasn't because she was suddenly scared of Mario after seeing him kill a man in cold blood, with his bare hands. Mario was capable of stealing people from their lives, drugging them, and making them kill and possibly get killed, all so he could win a damned game. Angela had known how dangerous this case would be before now.

Jake was an asset now that danger closed in around her, but she enjoyed going over the evidence with him. He brought good insight to the table. The way his expression had been pinched with excitement when he told her he'd overheard a conversation the night before, while she'd been in her bath, had almost turned her insides to jelly. He'd seemed larger-than-life as he'd brainstormed what bugged him about her father's phone call, his deep green eyes as vibrant as they'd been when he'd gotten her off on her bed.

Angela had come damn close to unloading her fears about Marianna on Jake. She was guilt-ridden over her half-sister and, so far, had kept all of her worries to herself. Jake had seen how emotional Angela was last night and had almost pulled her into his arms. If she had let him wrap those strong arms around her, Angela would have lost it. She didn't doubt for a moment he would have consoled her. It would have been so nice to unload on him. Angela imagined where opening up to him would have led, and not because Jake was such a playboy. More than likely she would have instigated sex, then she'd be even more guilt-ridden today. Or would she have felt better?

She shivered. There wasn't time to dwell on Jake's skills in bed. Although when there was time she definitely planned on learning what else he was good at doing.

"Good morning, darling," Jake answered after the fifth or sixth ring. His deep, raspy voice crawled into her system like a warm blanket, making her instantly hot and swollen and wanting him now. "It's early. Everything okay?"

"Are you awake?" she asked, surprised he was still asleep. Maybe he hadn't slept well either.

"Part of me is wide awake."

She heard the smile in his voice, and her body reacted even as she fought not to grin at his implication. The swelling between her legs started throbbing. What if she left her room and traipsed down to Jake's room? He wouldn't kick her out of his bed. And Mario would still be around, still angry and threatening, once she and Jake were done. It would be so much nicer starting her day by giving in to her needs and enjoying hot, wild sex.

"Mario is going to be here in a few minutes to pick me up," she said instead of giving Jake any indication that his subtle comment had affected her at all.

"Where are you going?" His lazy drawl was gone. Jake was all business.

She pictured him sitting on the side of his bed, probably naked, his hair tousled and a thick shadow across his jaw. The image made her weak in the knees as desire spread throughout her. Suddenly it wasn't cold in her room anymore. A fire had ignited inside her after just a few seconds of talking to Jake on the phone. Her needs went beyond physical. It wasn't rocket science figuring that out. She ached to discuss Mario's call with Jake, as brief as it had been. There were often clues hidden under everyone's nose that were easier pulled out when time was taken to analyze every aspect of a situation or conversation. Angela was falling for Jake's mind as well as his body.

"I'm not sure. He didn't say. But we're going to talk about last night. He brought it up already on the phone, and when I told him I didn't sleep well last night he suggested it was because of him."

"If you need me for any reason, send me a text. It doesn't have to say anything. Text one letter or one number, anything. I'll know that means you're in trouble and I'll be by your side in the next minute."

Angela knew he wasn't exaggerating, and it was on the tip of her tongue to ask where he would be while she was with Mario. She jumped, her heart lodging in her throat, when there was a firm knock on her door.

"Someone is at the door," she whispered, suddenly annoyed that Mario hadn't given her time to enjoy her fantasy of seducing Jake. Not that she would have played it out, but it was a hell of a lot better thinking about making love to Jake than it was playing mind games with Mario.

"Be careful. I'll be close, very close," Jake told her, his tone deepening with his promise.

"Don't let him know you're near," she said, focusing on her door. There was a click in her ear. Jake had hung up on her. Angela pulled her phone away from her ear, staring at it for only a second before hurrying to put it in her purse. If she'd hurt Jake's feelings he would get over it or discuss it with her later. Right now, she had work to do.

She really hoped he wasn't mad at her, though. Damn it. There wasn't time to fall for the damn brute when her head needed to be incredibly clear to remain a step ahead of Mario. The first place she and Mario were going would be to get more coffee, good, strong coffee.

Angela was almost to the door when she did an about-face and studied her suite. All of her spy equipment was put away. The place wasn't spotless but didn't look as if she was trying to catch a criminal, either. Her heart was beating too fast in her chest, and she felt jittery. But something told her not to leave anything that could possibly incriminate her anywhere, even after she left. She'd hidden her surveillance equipment behind her suitcase in her closet the night before. The hotel room was wired to capture anything that was said in here on tape. But if someone broke in here while she was gone and found her equipment, it wouldn't matter whether a conversation was recorded or not. There was another solid knock when Angela dove to her closet floor, yanked out her suitcase, pulled out her clothes, and brought up the false bottom. She almost hurled her equipment into its hiding place, her hands shaking, then closed the false bottom and tossed her clothes back inside the suitcase.

"Crap!" Angela almost tripped when she spun around again, yanked her purse open, pulled out her phone, and switched it to Silent. The last thing she wanted was to miss a call from her father. But like him, she knew phone calls couldn't interfere with her investigation. "And neither can your frazzled brain."

Straightening, she ran her hands down the snug-fitting sundress she'd chosen for the day. There was a third knock, this one a bit louder and more persistent, but Angela paused in front of her full-length mirror, taking in her appearance.

She hadn't washed her hair this morning but instead wrapped it in a bun while showering. Nonetheless, it was damp and frizzy. But it hung straight and was tangle free. No one had ever convinced her she looked better with her thick mane falling almost to her rear. Angela much preferred it up. Wearing it down made her look relaxed, more carefree. Right now, she definitely needed all the help she could get pulling that look off. She did a final twist, ran her hands over her rear, and made sure her dress was straight. It was a bright pink sleeveless dress with a high collar, tapered at the waist to show off her figure, and ended just above the knees. If only she felt as sharp as she looked.

"Fake it, baby," she instructed herself, holding her head high and exhaling slowly as she took her time walking to the door.

Angela unlocked the door and opened it, taking a step backward, and started to point over her shoulder. "Just let me get my--," she began, expecting Tomas to be standing in the hall.

"Did I not give you enough time to get ready?" Mario stepped toward her, his dark eyes pinning her with a hard, condemning stare. He didn't like being left to wait in the hallway.

"Mario." She almost smiled and caught herself. It was time to put on the performance of her lifetime. If Mario didn't believe 100 percent that she thought she had witnessed a fight and not a murder, her entire investigation, all the work she'd done over the past year, would go up in smoke. Angela relaxed her expression, not moving but tilting her head when he stepped into her space. "I expected Tomas and was struggling with my zipper," she lied, holding Mario's gaze.

"This morning will just be you and me." Mario moved in on her, touching her shoulder, then guiding her back into her suite.

Or he would have if Angela didn't step to the side, gripping the cold doorknob, although the metal warmed quickly in her damp palm. She was far from cold, but the heat that surged through her while talking to Jake was far from the same sensation she experienced now as her flesh burned where Mario had touched her. She felt repulsed, disgusted, and fought the urge to step out from under his touch.

Angela found herself against the wall, still holding the door, when Mario let go of her and sauntered into her room. He wore khaki pants and an expensive-looking button-down shirt. His black hair curled at his collar and the casual loafers he wore aided in his footsteps being silent as he continued moving through her suite until he stood next to her table, where the night before she and Jake had sat and listened in on Mario's conversation with his henchman.

"You're upset." Mario turned to face her. "Close the door, Angela. We're going to talk. I much prefer your beautiful smile over this frown I see right now."

If they stayed here, she wouldn't get her coffee. It would seriously suck, remembering every line she'd rehearsed in the shower, if her brain sunk back into its fog.

Angela let the door close but remained in front of it, clasping her hands in front of her while once again trying for a calm, relaxed expression. She hadn't realized she'd been frowning. "I'm not sure staying here is a good idea. I'm not properly prepared to entertain, Mario," she offered, and gestured with a wave of her hand as if one look at her suite would explain to him what she meant. "And I intended for you and me to go to coffee. You didn't give me time for room service, and the coffee in the room is mediocre at best." She wrinkled her nose, making a face she would despise on another woman, as if any problem were someone else's job to fix.