Callahan's Gold (Southwest Desert Series Book 3) (21 page)

Nick Diamon
d heard the distant sirens and knew by the increasing swell, they were approaching his vicinity. Maybe there had been an incident at the neighborhood bar, a spot of constant turmoil, he thought. Then again, maybe not. What if there was some problem with their contact for the pickup tonight? What if someone had squealed? He always considered what might go wrong when the time grew close. It was his business to be a little paranoid.

Nick lurched instantly to his feet, moving rapidly for a man so large. Though lean, his legs were powerful, his body muscular, his chest broad. His deep umber eyes gleamed as he scanned   his surroundings. There wasn't a speck of warmth in those eyes, though. They were cagey, almost vicious, and dark. Those eyes had looked despair squarely in the face, and stared unflinchingly at all kinds of atrocities.

He had overcome the fear most men felt in dangerous situations, and anticipated his next risk with shrewd determination, almost eagerness. It was the way he lived, on the edge of disaster and excitement. It was this edge that brought his lean body to a slightly crouched position, his taut muscles flexed like a coiled spring.

Although he was an American, Nick Diamond blended in with the dark-haired Mexican people around him. Purposely, he dressed in casual peasant-style clothing— loose white britches and a
camisa
, a shirt that hung outside his waistband. Beneath the loose clothes and behind the dark, bushy mustache was a man of tempered steel, a dangerous man.
Norteamericano
, some Mexicans called him. Those who knew him referred to the tall, commanding man as
El Cápitan
. He definitely fit the title. His coarse, unfettered
camisa
sometimes concealed a small gun, which was almost completely hidden in his large hand when he held it. He wasn't reluctant to use the weapon; indeed, the cold steel had saved his life more than once. To those who'd seen him in action, he engendered fear. And respect. In a time and place desperate for heroes, Nick Diamond was a reluctant proxy.

Before Nick could take another step, a short, stocky Mexican man in similar peasant attire appeared in the doorway. His muscular arms braced the arched portal, effectively blocking the exit.

"What the hell is that all about, Jose?"

"It is nothing,
Cápitan
. Listen." The burly man with the elaborate handlebar mustache held up a finger. It was almost a comical gesture coming from such a rough-looking man.

Nick paused as the siren's whine was cut short.

"They stop a couple of blocks away. Maybe two stubborn cars wouldn't give up their right of way. Did you hear the crash?"

"Oh yeah. More than two cars, I’d say. You have some careless, crazy drivers in this city. Or might be trouble at Pancho's Bar again."

The first siren was followed closely by a second.

"
Sí
." Jose relaxed in the entry way and turned to look out into the street, still listening. "Or the marketplace."

"Maybe we should check it out."

"Not we,
Cápitan
. Maybe I will go." Jose shook his head and the carefully curled ends of his mustache jiggled.

"We need to make sure it's a wreck and not some terrorist act."

"No,
Cápitan
.
No more heroics, please. We're supposed to keep a low profile, remember? If you keep on saving lives, word about you will spread fast and everyone will be talking. We do not want that."

Nick relaxed his shoulders and leaned trim hips against the edge of an old wooden desk. "If you're referring to that incident last week, I merely performed basic CPR. Nothing fancy. The man was having a heart attack. I couldn't let him die in the street.”

"And now everyone thinks you work miracles. It makes you some kind of hero." Jose gestured with an expressive hand.

"Some hero," Nick grunted with a low laugh. "If they knew the truth about me, they'd swing me from the nearest mesquite tree."

Jose grinned, his white teeth flashing beneath his handlebar mustache. "
Sí, Cápitan
. But they don't know the truth. They only know what they see. So you must lay low. Especially today. We cannot take a chance on messing up tonight's haul. Too much at stake."

"Ah, you're right, Jose. But I need to know everything that's going on around me." Nick folded his muscular arms across his broad chest. "Anyway,
the
policía
are there by now, and they can handle it. Probably."

His eyes flickered with sarcasm and Jose sighed and looked away. He had worked with Nick Diamond long enough to know what he was thinking, how his shrewdly calculating mind worked. Nick's years of experience had left him wary and unyielding. No one or nothing could be trusted.

A third siren pierced the dead quiet.

Nick shifte
d uncomfortably and looked up, his unswerving umber eyes meeting his partner's in a mutual understanding.

Jose nodded and began to move before the demand could even be made. "
Sí, seňor
, I'll go check it out."

"Good idea." Nick turned back to the shabby spa
ce he and Jose called an office and picked up a paper from the desk.

Fifteen minutes later, Jose returned with an account to relay. "A drunk driver crashed into a light pole and knocked over many wagons in the public marketplace. With the Saturday crowd in the market, they were damn lucky. Only a few people were injured."

"Badly?"

Jose shrugged. "One woman. They took her away in an ambulance."

Nick's eyes narrowed. "You're sure it was an accident?"

Jose nodded. "There was another young woman involved. A
norteamericana
, with blond hair. She was looking for a Mexican baby. Claimed the child was there before the accident."

"Injured?"

"They don't know. Couldn't find her."

"Hmmm." Nick looked back down at the sheet of paper in his hands. As soon as he'd memorized this information, the paper would be destroyed, leaving no evidence.

"The woman, she was very pretty, Capitan. Blond hair and blue eyes.
Muy bonita
. From the States—" Jose halted.

Nick had already turned his back. He hadn't heard, nor did he care about any pretty, blond woman. But it wasn't surprising to Jose. In the year they'd worked together in Mexico, Nick had never shown anything more than lusty interest in any woman. Although his women were beautiful, Nick never bothered with anything more than a brief encounter.

The man was remarkable. Jose knew his partner had blocked everything else out and now concentrated completely on the information before him, and the wrap-up of tonight's operation. It was just as well. He didn't need the complication of a woman in his line of business.

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Mary Tate Engels, author of more than 30 romance novels, soon to be on eBooks at Amazon.com, also has two non-fiction southwest history books with Texas Tech University Press: Tales from Wide Ruins, Jean and  Bill Cousins, Traders; and Corazon Contento – Sonoran Recipes and Stories from the Heart, co-authored with Madeline Gallego Thorpe. She has three sons, two granddaughters, has raised a wolf in her back yard, and has adopted two black cats for good luck 

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Loves Dawning-
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A Lasting Love -
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A Rare Breed - http://www.amazon.com/dp/B004HZXT9S

Rogue Diamond -
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Speak to the Wind -
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Under the Desert Moon -
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Under the Desert Sky -
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