Caught in the Act (32 page)

Moreno pressed a button, ending the call.

Kari recoiled in shock, her mind screaming a shrill warning. What was she going to do? She didn’t trust this man, or his crew of violent criminals, at all. He’d already betrayed her. Their last collaboration had been a disaster.

“I give you my word that she’ll be returned to you, unharmed.”

“That’s what I was told about Sasha. But you couldn’t keep her safe.”

He flinched, bothered more by this truth than by the blows she’d dealt him earlier. “She was her own worst enemy.”

Kari crossed her arms over her chest, staring at the dirt mound that her sister had been buried under. If only Sasha had faced her traumatic past instead of self-medicating. She’d never learned to deal with her emotions or take responsibility for her actions. Kari hadn’t known how to be a parent, a friend, and a sister.

“What happened at the end?” she asked.

His gaze followed hers to the grave and then moved away, across the grassy sprawl. “We went to a nice hotel in Rosarito. I wanted to spend some time together, just the two of us. I was rationing her drugs, giving just enough to stave off withdrawals.” His eyes were bleak. “Sometime during the night she found my stash and did it all.”

Kari studied the mark on his cheek, feeling hollow. She didn’t want to speculate on Sasha’s state of mind before her death. The possibility that she’d taken her own life on purpose was too disturbing to contemplate.

Even more unsettling was the idea that Moreno had
killed Sasha with the most powerful weapon at his disposal: love.

Taking a ragged breath, she changed the subject. “What excuse will I give for wanting to visit Armando? We’re hardly friends.”

“Say you came to ask about Maria. He was the last person to see her.”

She nodded, steeling herself for the task. Once more she would do his bidding. But she would never, ever feel sympathy for him. It didn’t matter how much they had in common or how devastated he seemed by Sasha’s death.

“I’ll do it for Maria,” she said. “But I hope you come to a bad end.”

He gave a slight bow. “I expect nothing less.”

22

Kari jogged home to retrieve the rental car, her thoughts racing.

She told the officer she was going to the grocery store and left, driving to the closest area hospital. The heat of the day had receded, leaving a pleasant breeze in its wake. She parked at Scripps and walked across the lot as the sun dipped lower in the sky.

A receptionist greeted her at the front desk. “May I help you?”

Kari didn’t know how to proceed. Should she sneak around, hoping to stumble into the right room? That could take hours in this enormous building. “I’m here to see Armando Villarreal.”

The receptionist checked her database. “He’s in ICU. No visitors allowed.”

“Oh,” she said, crestfallen. After a moment she asked, “Is there a vending machine around here? Or a cafeteria?”

“It’s at the end of Hall B.” She handed Kari a folded pamphlet with a map of the facility. “On the west side of the building.”

Kari thanked her and headed in that direction, her pulse kicking up. Bypassing the cafeteria, she continued to the intensive care unit, peeping through the double doors at the entrance. There were at least a dozen rooms in the unit, but only one had a uniformed police officer sitting outside, reading a magazine.

She hung back, loitering near the restrooms. How was she going to get by him? While she tried to think of a better idea than stealing a set of scrubs and playing doctor, he rose from his chair and walked toward her.

Trying to act cool, she bent to drink from the water fountain and watched him pass by on his way out of the ICU. After he disappeared into the men’s room, she strode forward, doubting she’d get a better opening. Heart pounding with anxiety, she hurried down the hall, ducking into the room the officer had been guarding. It was dark inside. She waited for her eyes to adjust, standing silent, her fingertips tingling with awareness.

The first bed was empty. A curtain divided the room, blocking her view, but the steady beep of a pulsometer indicated a quiet presence. She stepped closer, peering around the curtain. A man in a hospital gown was lying on his back, his eyes closed. He was connected to an oxygen machine and an IV drip.

It was Adam.

Although his face was partially obscured by a breathing apparatus, she recognized him. Perhaps someone who didn’t know him on an intimate level might mistake him for Armando, but Kari had no doubt.

The sight of his slack body made her stomach twist with distress. She’d just buried her sister, and her sanity was hanging by a fine thread. Seeing Adam so close to death pushed her right over the edge.

While she stood there, trembling like a leaf, he opened his eyes and sat forward, pointing a gun at the center of her chest.

As she drew a breath to scream, a figure burst from the bathroom, grabbing her from behind. Her high-pitched shriek was cut short as he clapped his palm over her mouth, silencing her with crushing pressure.

She struggled to break free, twisting back and forth in his arms. He stumbled sideways but didn’t release her.

Adam ripped the oxygen tubes away from his face. “What the fuck, man? Were you going to let me shoot a defenseless woman?”

The man holding her eased his grip. When Kari stopped kicking, he took his hand away from her mouth. “How am I supposed to know she’s defenseless?” he asked, flipping the light switch. Under the harsh fluorescent glow, Adam didn’t appear sick or injured in the least. Her concern for him evaporated.

“She’s clearly unarmed,” Adam said, setting down his weapon.

The man checked anyway, skimming his hands along Kari’s sports top and jogging pants. Her cheeks heated with embarrassment, because he was thorough. “You’re right,” he said. “She’s clean.”

Adam gave his partner a warning look, as if he hadn’t liked the way he’d touched her.

“Why didn’t you call me?” Kari asked, itching to slap them both. “This whole time I thought you were dying, you son of a bitch.”

The man beside her coughed with surprise.

“Take a break, Ian,” Adam said.

Ian left the room without an argument, favoring his right leg a little on the way out. Kari thought he looked
familiar, but she couldn’t quite place him. He was tall and dark-haired, sort of scruffy-looking, with intense eyes. Not as handsome as Adam, but attractive.

“Is that Agent Foster?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Were you two in on this together? He was trying to get close to Maria while you were working on me?”

“Of course not,” Adam said, scowling. “He was there to bust Chuy Pena. Maria was a distraction he didn’t need.”

Kari crossed her arms over her chest, uncertain. She didn’t know whom to trust anymore. Every man she’d come in contact with lately had lied to her and manipulated her. “Is there a reason you couldn’t return my calls in person?”

His expression softened. “I’ve been ordered not to contact you.”

“By who?”

“My boss. After everything went wrong at the border I was interrogated about my relationship with you.”

“You were honest?”

He gave a curt nod.

She stared at him, still reeling from shock. “Did you ever think of me? Wonder if I was up late every night, worrying about you?”

“Yes,” he said quietly. “I thought of you. I’m sorry I couldn’t go to your sister’s funeral. I wanted to be there.”

As if she hadn’t cried enough today, fresh tears rushed to her eyes. She turned her back, hiding them from him. He rose from the hospital bed, yanking off the remaining tubes and monitors. But when he put his hand on her bare arm, she snapped.

With a strangled sob, she rounded on him, pummeling
his chest with her fists. She felt like she was dying inside, imploding in fury and frustration. He’d let her down at the most critical time of her life.

Her sister was dead and she’d never be whole again. “I hate you!”

Although her strikes were a release of miserable energy, not a serious attempt to injure him, they made more of an impact than she’d figured. He fell backward onto the bed, pressing a palm to his midsection.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he replied, schooling his expression. “Bruised ribs.”

“I thought you’d been shot.”

“I was wearing a bulletproof vest.”

“Doesn’t that protect you?”

“Not always. High-powered rifle fire can penetrate the plates. I was lucky.”

She covered her trembling mouth with one hand, disturbed by the close call. After the hell he’d just put her through, she didn’t want to care about him. She wanted to walk away and never look back. “I just came to see if you were okay,” she said, dropping her arms to her sides. “I won’t bother you again.”

He stopped cradling his ribs and reached out to her, wrapping his strong fingers around her wrist. “Don’t go. Please.”

“You’re not supposed to talk to me.”

“I want to explain.”

She studied his handsome face, torn. Her heart was too tender to absorb another blow right now. “Make it quick.”

He cleared his throat, searching for a starting point. “When I saw you at San Ysidro the first time, I knew
you were Sasha’s sister. I didn’t send you to secondary inspection for selfish reasons.”

“Such as?”

“I suspected you were involved in Moreno’s smuggling operation, especially after I saw Chuy Pena at your house.” His gaze was steady. “I thought I might be able to get close to Moreno through you.”

“By sleeping with me?”

“Yes.”

She wasn’t impressed by his honesty. He couldn’t win her over by telling her something she already knew.

“Then I began to feel conflicted,” he said. “I liked you, on a personal level, much more than I expected to. Your store got vandalized and I realized that I cared about you. I wanted to protect you.”

Her temper sparked at his words, fueled by pain and loss and adrenaline. “You cared more about catching Moreno than protecting me and you know it. You asked me out because you wanted
him
, not because you wanted me. You attached a GPS to my van to track my movements.” She jerked her hand from his hold, counting his sneaky actions on her fingertips. “You lied to me and spied on me and played me like a pawn.”

A muscle in his jaw flexed. “You lied to me, too.”

“I lied in self-defense because I didn’t know what else to say. You did it as a strategy, planned and premeditated.”

He rolled his left shoulder, appearing guilty. “You’re right, and I’m sorry.”

She didn’t accept his apology.

“After Sasha’s body was found at San Ysidro, we followed the real shipment to the drop-off location. Moreno was there. I chased him for a few blocks and we
ended up in an alley, just the two of us. I could have taken him out. Before his sharpshooter got into position, we were alone. He mentioned Penelope, baiting me. I had my gun pointed at his head and I was very, very tempted to execute him.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because of you. I pictured the way you looked at me after they cuffed you, like you were dying inside. I know I caused that, and I didn’t want to be … consumed by hatred anymore. Killing him wouldn’t solve anything. It wasn’t worth it.”

She waited for him to continue, her throat raw.

“For the past few years, I’ve fantasized about that moment a thousand times. I lived for the chance to take him down. But when the opportunity presented itself, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I’d already lost Penelope. I didn’t want to lose you, too.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You mean more to me than vengeance.”

“So … you let him go?”

“No, I took out my handcuffs to detain him and came under fire. After the second shot, he got away.”

Kari couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Waves of sorrow and frustration crashed over her, scattering her already turbulent emotions. “You had him right there in front of you, and you couldn’t pull the trigger?”

Adam frowned at her, as if she was missing the point. “I was tired of living in the past, fantasizing about murder. I wanted to move beyond that, let go of the memories. Don’t you see? I did it for you.”

She ran a shaky hand through her hair, laughing harshly. “You shouldn’t have.”

He seemed to think she should feel honored by his
decision. “Would you rather I’d murdered him in cold blood?”

“Yes,” she said, lashing out at him. “He ruined my sister’s life! He fed her addiction, and fed it, and fed it. He’s responsible for dozens of drug overdoses and street killings! You decide to go soft on him after an attack of conscience—your first, by my account—and I’m supposed to be happy for you? Well, I’m not, Adam. I wish you’d killed him. I wish you’d done it a long time ago. Then my sister would still be alive. The fact that she’s dead and you let him get away makes me sick.”

“It makes you sick,” Adam repeated, his brow furrowing.

“Yes. How could you think I’d be proud of your restraint? You lied to me and used me for
nothing
.”

“Damn you,” he said, his teeth clenched. “That was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. And it wasn’t for nothing—it was for you. I let go of the past because I wanted a future with you.”