Crossfire Christmas (15 page)

“And what kind of future does he promise you?”

“He doesn’t.” The sorrow that gripped Teresa’s heart at that notion proved the depth of her feelings for the man. “I imagine that once he finds out who set him up and has that man arrested, he’ll go back to Houston. To his job, to his life there. But right now he needs me, Emilia. Like no one has ever needed me before.” Teresa circled the room, finally making sense of why Charles Nash meant so much to her. “He needs me to be strong and capable. He lets me do things. He lets me argue with him. I don’t feel like the baby of the family when I’m with him. I just... I feel like...me. He lets me be me.”

Emilia reached for her hand across the stainless-steel counter, perhaps understanding more than Teresa had given her credit for. “When I first met Justin, I thought he was a criminal. When I found out he was an undercover cop, he was still just as dangerous. It’s not an easy life.”

Teresa squeezed her sister’s hand, unused to hearing this cautionary tale about her marriage. “But you looked past the danger. You got to know the man he was underneath that bad-guy persona. Justin is a good man. You love him.”

“With all my heart.” Emilia’s serene smile warmed with the love she was used to seeing there. “Justin saved my life.”

“I remember the bomb threats around the city that year. He saved me, too.”

“He’s a wonderful husband and a good father. And now we’re having our second child together.” Emilia released her hand to cradle her swollen belly in a maternal hug. “I’ll keep your secret. I’ll list the patient as John Smith and send the bill to you—with the promise that he pays you for it, like he said.”

Tears stung her eyes as Teresa smiled her gratitude. “He will. Nash is a stickler for repaying a debt and keeping his promises.”

Emilia stood, slipping back into doctor mode for a moment. “He’ll need his dressings changed once a day for a couple of days. After that, he’ll need air to get to the wounds for them to heal properly. If there’s any green or yellow discharge, he’ll need to come back and see me.”

“I know the drill.” Teresa pulled her sister into a hug. “Thank you. For taking care of Nash—and for giving me the chance to take care of him.”

“Don’t make me regret this.” When Emilia pulled away, her eyes were a little bright, as well. “If anything goes wrong...if you get hurt—”

“I know a good doctor.”

“I don’t just mean physically. If you care for him, and he—”

“I know a good friend, too.” She hugged her again before gathering up their coats and her bag and heading out the door. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Teresa was halfway to the elevators when she heard her sister groan. “What are we going to tell AJ?”

* * *

T
HE
HOSPITAL
WAS
swarming with cops.

Okay, so maybe
swarming
was a bit of an overstatement. But the black-haired man with the graying temples and wrinkled suit striding down the hallway carried himself with an air of authority like law enforcement. The uniformed KCPD officer walking beside him confirmed it.

Teresa ducked back into the hospital gift shop, hugging the bag of clothes she’d just bought for herself and Nash. She pretended a rapt interest in a display of Kansas City postcards as the two men entered the gift shop and crossed to the clerk at the counter to introduce themselves.

The dark-haired man pulled out his badge and clipped it onto the pocket of his suit jacket. “Good afternoon, ma’am. I’m Jesse Puente, an agent with the Drug Enforcement Administration. This is Officer Reynaldo from your local police. We’re looking for someone.”

That man was Nash’s supervising officer? The captain she’d inadvertently alerted to Nash’s location when she’d sent him that frightened email? Panic jumbled her thoughts for a moment. What should she do? Nash was only two floors above them. How had Puente and the other officer tracked him here to the hospital?

Go. Run. No. Don’t draw attention to yourself. Just mosey on out of here, then beat it upstairs to warn Nash.

The conversation faded as Teresa shifted the package in her arms and headed into the hallway. But the glass door hadn’t closed behind her before Captain Puente called out to her. “Teresa? Teresa Rodriguez?”

She kept walking. She wasn’t in scrubs today, wasn’t wearing her name badge or classification pin since she was off the clock. For all anyone knew, she was a guest here to visit a sick friend.

“Ms. Rodriguez?”

When he asked the clerk for confirmation of her name, Teresa knew she had no choice but to stop and face the two officers hurrying down the hall behind her. “Yes?”

The older man was all smiles as he slowed his pace and approached. “Hi, I’m Captain Puente. We exchanged emails?”

“Ma’am.” Officer Reynaldo looked bored with introductions and more interested in watching everyone who entered the hospital’s main lobby and came down this corridor to the gift shop or visitor elevators at the end of the hall.

She shook the captain’s hand when he offered it. “Nice to meet you.”

If he noticed any reticence in her greeting, he didn’t respond to it. “In your email to me, you mentioned you were a nurse. But you didn’t mention where you worked. Some of my men from Houston and your local PD are checking out area hospitals, searching for Agent Nash. It’s lucky I ran into you.”

“Yes.” She moved her sack behind her back, hiding the men’s shirt and underwear she’d just purchased. “Lucky coincidence.”

“Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”

Teresa shook her head. She minded like crazy, but if she could keep the cops occupied down here on the first floor and maybe even send them on their way, then they wouldn’t find Nash upstairs.

“This is where you work?” he asked, probably confused by her sweater and jeans. “You’re out of uniform.”

“Yes. I’m off duty today. Doing a little Christmas shopping. We get a discount here.”

“I’m glad that Agent Nash has released you. He’s no longer holding you against your will?” So much for pleasantries.

Something down the hallway caught Officer Reynaldo’s attention and he circled around behind her. Teresa clenched her toes inside her boots to keep from bolting. Even though they’d effectively blocked her escape in either direction, he still didn’t seem that interested in her, so she tilted her gaze back to the older man and concentrated on Puente. If Nash wasn’t sure he could trust him, then neither was she. “No. As you can see, I’m a free woman. I was never in any real danger. It was just a...miscommunication.”

Puente pulled back the edges of his jacket, giving her a clear look at the gun he carried as he rested his hands at his waist. “I was hoping you’d call me so I could reach Nash. I’ve lost three agents already. I don’t want to lose another one.”

His paternally indulgent tone made her suspicious instead of putting her at ease as he’d most likely intended. “Some men broke into my apartment. Looking for Mr. Nash, I expect.”

“You weren’t hurt in the break-in, were you?”

She was getting too good at this twisting-the-truth-into-a-lie thing. “I wasn’t there at the time, but I haven’t wanted to go back to check my computer or anything else on the premises. And I didn’t have your number.”

He arched a black eyebrow. “You can’t check your email from another location?”

“I’ve been very busy.”

“Excuse me, sir.” Officer Reynaldo came up behind Teresa, and she stiffened. But the brief whiff of the tacos or burritos he’d had for lunch quickly receded as he backed away again. “There’s a good view of the parking lot across from the elevators. I thought I’d go take a look.”

Puente nodded, dismissing him. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. You can show me around the rest of the hospital then.”

The rest of the hospital?

A nervous suspicion shimmied down her spine. “How many of your officers did you say were here, Captain?”

“I didn’t.” He folded his hand around Teresa’s arm and pulled her aside, ostensibly to clear a path for the balloons-and-wheelchair entourage coming down the hallway with a new mother and baby. But he didn’t release her. “I get the idea you don’t trust me, Ms. Rodriguez. I want to help you. I want to help Nash. But I need information. Where is he? How is he? Look, I get that he’s threatened you to keep his secrets.”

Teresa twisted her elbow from his grasp. “He hasn’t threatened me. I’m not afraid of him.”

“He’s probably told you, then, that if we can connect you to him, then the Graciela cartel can, too.” He braced a hand against the wall and leaned toward her. “Graciela’s men are here in Kansas City. They want Agent Nash. I suspect they’re the ones who broke into your apartment. They’ll use you to get to him. I’ve seen the Gracielas’ torture victims. Most of them would rather be dead.”

She tightened her grip around her backpack and the sack. “Stop trying to scare me. Nash explained how dangerous the men after him are. Why do you think I’m avoiding my apartment?”

Puente grinned, dropping his hand and pulling away. “So at least I know he’s alive. And nearby, I’m guessing.”

“All I did was patch him up. I haven’t seen him recently.” At least that, technically, wasn’t a lie. She’d been hunting down clean clothes that would fit him for the past half hour. “He was injured in the shoot-out where your Agent Delvecchio got killed.”

His dark eyes narrowed. “What do you know about Tommy?”

“Only what Nash—Agent Nash—mentioned when I was helping him. He said Agent Delvecchio was like a kid brother to him.” She glimpsed movement behind her from the corner of her eye. Officer Reynaldo. Had there really been anything to look at outside? Or were the two men cornering her into a trap? Teresa’s breath stuttered in her chest. “Maybe you all felt that way. I’m sorry for your loss.”

He shrugged. “We’re still looking into Delvecchio’s disappearance. Thank you.”

“Wait.” Something wasn’t right. “You said disappearance?”

For a moment, Jesse Puente looked grim. But just as quickly, that pleasant professional facade reappeared. “Apparently, the M.E.’s office here in Kansas City isn’t releasing the bodies from the warehouse to us, pending identification.”

“Sir?” She startled at Reynaldo’s voice beside her. “I just got a call that the main office has the E.R. record for the past few days you were asking for.”

“Good.” Captain Puente pulled out his wallet and handed her his card. “If you see Nash again, have him call me. He may not trust anyone right now, but I can help him. But not if the cartel finds him first. If he needs backup, tell him I’m closer than he thinks.”

Teresa accepted the card, a little surprised to see Puente already retreating down the hall after Officer Reynaldo. “You’re letting me go?”

He paused. “This is just a friendly conversation, Ms. Rodriguez. I’m not detaining you in any way. This is a big city. And I’m not that familiar with it. It’s hard to find someone under those conditions. Especially when he doesn’t want to be found.”

And yet Puente had found her.

“It’s my job to follow up on any leads. And you’re the best one I’ve had so far. But as you said, you’ve had no further contact with Nash. So I have no reason to take up any more of your time.
Gracias.
”

Teresa didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath until the captain caught up with Officer Reynaldo, and the two men fell into step and crossed the lobby toward the business offices.

Then her lungs emptied with such a rush of relief that it left her light-headed. She swayed against the wall for support. But only for a few seconds.

The moment Puente and Reynaldo disappeared around a corner, Teresa spun around and hurried toward the elevators. But five steps and she stopped.

She glanced back over her shoulder to see if either officer or anyone else was watching her. The hospital lobby was busy. The gift shop had the clerk and a handful of customers inside. Although Puente and Reynaldo hadn’t reappeared, there were too many people to keep track of. She needed to make sure no one followed her up to the third floor.

Instead of heading for the elevators, she changed course and opened the door to the first empty consultation room she passed. With one last peek over her shoulder for curious eyes, she closed the door and cut through the room’s back exit into the hospital employee area. She hurried through a break room and came out in an inner hallway, away from anyone’s watchful eyes. Once the coast was clear, she dashed over to the employee elevator and got in to go to the third floor to find Nash.

Chapter Eleven

“Nash?” Teresa pushed open the door to 3010 and darted inside.

“That was too long, Peewee.”

She butted the door shut and tossed him the bag of clothing. Nash was sitting up on the edge of the bed and caught it with his good hand. He dumped the contents onto the bed and ripped open bags and tore off tags with an urgent sureness that made her think he was feeling stronger.

“I know. Sorry.”

“Tell me what’s happening.” His dirty-gold hair stuck up in rumpled spikes on one side of his head, as though he’d just awakened from a nap. But he’d already pulled on those big scuffed boots and had his gun strapped to his belt. Shirtless and golden, bruised and bandaged, her wounded bear seemed to have found the energy for one more battle.

“Your captain is here. In the hospital.” Teresa dropped Jesse Puente’s card on the bed as she hurried past to open the tall slim cabinet that functioned as a closet. She pulled out their coats. “He wants you to call him. He said he could help you and offer backup if you need it.”

“He showed you his badge? You’re certain it was him?”

She nodded, stopping at the bed to stuff her own change of clothes into her backpack. “There was another man with him. He wore a local uniform, but he kind of gave me the willies. He wasn’t paying attention to the conversation. He was just...lurking.”

He pulled a T-shirt over his head. “Did you catch a name?”

“Officer Reynaldo. Does that mean anything to you? Is he in your little black book?” Nash squeezed her shoulder as he shook his head. “Puente said he had a whole team of officers and agents combing the city looking for you.”

He pulled the IV from his hand and shucked into his shirt. “They’re not going to find us. Let’s go.”

Grabbing their coats in one hand and her arm in the other, Nash peeked into the hallway before opening the door. “Which way?”

She pointed to the right. “Back stairs are down there.”

Clinging close to the wall, keeping his head bowed but his gaze on a constant scan, he led her down the pristine white hallway. Three steps. Four. Five. She plowed into his back when Nash suddenly stopped and swore beneath his breath. “Moreno.”

He snatched her hand and quickly reversed course.

“What is it?”

“Company.”

She glanced back to see the two men at the counter of the ward’s central desk. Although they had their backs to her, it was easy to recognize a uniformed police officer. But she guessed it was the man with the cowboy hat and curly black hair Nash wanted to avoid. “Do you know him?”

“Yeah.” He ducked into the first room on the left, pulling Teresa in behind him. “
He’s
in the book.”

Her stomach knotted. A cartel man or the suspected mole. Right here. In her hospital. Not twenty feet from where Nash was peering through the slit he’d left open in the doorway. Teresa fisted her hand in the back of his shirt, willing him to put more distance between them and the people who wanted him dead.

Nash retreated, all right. But only to urge her to move. “Hide our stuff.”

Teresa turned. Froze. She hadn’t checked the room number. “Oh, no.”

Laila Alvarez was propped up against the pillows in her bed, playing with her stuffed horse. She smiled. “Hey, Mr. Nash.”

“Hello again.”

“Again? Mr. Nash?” She couldn’t stop him from brushing past her and pulling aside the middle curtain to make sure the second bed in the room was empty. “You two know each other?”

He closed the curtain and opened the closet, pausing for a moment to assess its size. “We’ve met. Hide our gear.”

“Hey, sweetie.” She spared a reassuring smile for Laila before following him to the cabinet closet, where he was pulling out hangers and tossing them into a drawer. “We can’t stay here and endanger a patient.”

“We can’t go out there.”

“But—”

“Every person in this hospital could be in danger if one of Graciela’s men decides to take a shot at me.” He grabbed their coats and stuffed them into the drawers, too. “If we get out of here, the danger comes with us. Now hide.”

“I hate this. How do you two know each other?” She opened another drawer and set her backpack inside.

“I took a walk as soon as Chester left me in the room. I needed a better idea of exits and who belonged here and who didn’t.” He winked at the girl in the bed. “We talked about Texas for a couple of minutes.”

“You were supposed to be resting—”

Nash pressed his finger over her mouth and shushed her. “Moreno’s coming this way. Get in.”

“There’s no room for both of us, you big beanpole.” She heard the men’s voices approaching, too. “Bend your legs. That’s it.”

“Teresa—”

She pushed him into the closet and shut the door. She nervously patted her chest to make sure she wasn’t wearing any identifying pins or nametags, then pulled up a stool beside the bed. This wasn’t much of a plan, but it was the only one she could come up with on a split second’s notice. “Laila, I need you to be very brave. Don’t tell anyone anything about Mr. Nash. It’s like hide-and-seek, and we have to win.”

“Okay.” Her favorite patient looked small and fragile with her pink knit cap on her bald head and the oxygen clip on her finger.

But her dark eyes lit up with anticipation as Teresa asked for her help. “We’re going to play a pretend game now, okay? You be a patient, and I’ll be your friend who’s come to visit you.”

“That’s not much of a game.”

“You can’t call me Teresa. You have to make up a name.”

The little girl laughed. “Okay, Laila.”

Teresa squeezed the girl’s hand as she heard men’s voices outside the room. She picked up one of the Marguerite Henry stories stacked beside the bed. “Shall we read a book?”

“You go down that side. I’ll check over here.” A man’s voice preceded the soft knock at the door. It opened without invitation, and the curly-haired cop from Texas strolled in. He stopped when he saw Teresa and pulled back the front of his jacket, flashing both his badge and his holstered gun. “Excuse me, ma’am. Good afternoon. I’m Agent Cruz Moreno, DEA. We’re following up on a lead and conducting a search of the hospital.”

“What do you think you’ll find in this little girl’s room?”

He smiled, probably used to charming his way into getting what he wanted. “Mind if I take a quick look around?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. She needs her rest.”

Agent Moreno took a couple more steps into the room. “I just need a quick look at that bed behind you, ma’am.”

Before Teresa could stand and block his path at the foot of the bed, Laila piped up with one of her curious questions. “Are you a cowboy?”

“Huh?” Cruz Moreno stopped, looking almost startled to hear the patient speak.

“You’re wearing cowboy boots and a hat. You’re supposed to take it off inside. Do you have a horse?”

“No, kid. I’m a cop.” He dismissed Laila and directed his explanation to Teresa. There was no charm to his words or smile now. “I’m looking for a man. Taller than me. Light hair. He may be injured.”

Teresa shrugged. “This is a pediatrics ward. We don’t have any adult patients here.”

“This is my friend Laila,” the little girl interjected.

Agent Moreno ignored the introduction and moved toward Teresa. The man wasn’t that tall, but he was huskily built, and she got the idea that he was willing to throw some of that weight around. “He might not be a patient. He might be masquerading as one of the staff or acting like a fugitive.”

“What’s that?” Laila sat up from her pillows, determined to be heard.

“A criminal. Someone who doesn’t want the police to catch him. Seen anyone like that, kid?”

Sensing his irritation, Teresa drew his attention back to her. “I haven’t seen anyone like that. Are we safe here?”

“Depends on how desperate he gets. Don’t worry, ma’am. We’ll find him.” His shoulder brushed against Teresa’s and she flinched away as he reached around her to pull open the curtain. He chuckled when he saw the empty bed. “I thought maybe you were hiding something from me, Laila.”

Teresa held his suspicious dark-eyed gaze, keeping his focus on her and not the closet. But before she could think of the dismissive words that would chase him from the room, the real Laila started talking. “You have an accent. Are you from Mexico? They have horses there. They speak Spanish and Andalusians are Spanish. From Spain. They’re horses.”

“What?” Agent Moreno shook his head. Laila’s questions seemed to confound him. And distract him from his purpose.

“Do you have an Andalusian horse?” she asked.

“No, kid.” He tipped his hat to Teresa and slipped past her to the door. “Sorry to have bothered you, ma’am.” Teresa’s feet stayed rooted into place until the door closed and she heard Moreno talking to the other officer outside. “Without any better leads than what we’ve got, this is like searching for a needle in a haystack. Let’s call this floor clear and start looking where the grown-ups are.”

Teresa hurried to the door and peeked through a small opening just as Nash had, waiting for Moreno and the other officer to get on the elevator at the end of the hall. She looked the other direction, too, seeing no one but a couple of staff members she recognized.

“They’re gone,” she announced, dashing back into the room. She opened the closet door and crossed over to Laila to give her a gentle hug. “Sweetie, you were wonderful.”

“Did we win?”

“You bet we did,” Nash answered, sliding out of the cramped space.

Laila was still sitting up straight in the middle of the bed, her dark eyes eagerly following Nash’s every move. “I don’t like him. He wears fancy cowboy boots. Not real ones you can work in, like yours. His were too shiny.” Nash handed Teresa her bag and coat. “I like you. You listen when I talk. Even when I’m boring.”

He flashed the girl a crooked grin that had captured Teresa’s heart, as well. “I like you, too, darlin’. And somehow I doubt you could ever be boring. I owe you one for helping me out.” He slipped into his coat before helping Laila get situated back under her covers. Teresa’s breath did funny things in her chest when he leaned over to kiss the girl’s cheek. “I won’t forget.”

Teresa had a kiss for her, too. “Bye, sweetie. You do whatever the doctors tell you, okay? I’ll be back for Christmas.”

Laila held on to both their hands. “Are you coming to the Christmas party, too, Mr. Nash?”

Golden-brown eyes locked on to Teresa’s over the girl’s bed. She read the message there. Christmas, even just a few days away, was too far in the future for him to even consider. To even hope for.

Before Teresa could plead with him to move beyond that fatalistic outlook, he released Laila and started for the door.

“We’ll see, darlin’.” He clasped Teresa’s hand instead, pulling her into step behind him. “Let’s get out of here. I assume you know a back way?”

Teresa nodded and moved into the hallway ahead of him. “Follow me. The emergency wing is closest to the garage where we parked.”

A nod or a smile to the coworkers they passed was enough to discourage any conversation. Although she imagined there’d be plenty of questions about the tall, tough-looking man following her down the hallway when she came back to work on the twenty-fifth.

Provided she’d be alive and able to report back to work.

The possibility that she might not, that she might lose Charlie Nash even if she did survive, sharpened her gaze and hurried her steps.

No one met them coming or going down the back stairs. They didn’t even run into anyone as they jogged through the employees’ inner hallway.

But when she opened the door into the busy waiting area down by the E.R., she saw the one thing that could stand in the way of their escape. A cop.

Teresa pulled up and hung back in the stairwell. “Nash, look. With Emilia.”

He peeked over her shoulder to watch Emilia and the uniformed officer walking down to the E.R. bays where they’d been that morning. “Do you think she’s telling him about me being here?”

“No. She promised.”

“Wait a minute. Ah, hell.” He tensed behind her. His fingers bit almost painfully into her shoulders. “That gun isn’t regulation.”

“What difference does that...?” The shiny silver pistol that stuck up out of the officer’s holster had meant nothing to her. But when the man chatting with Emilia turned, glancing up and down the hallway, his gaze moving right past the shadowed doorway where they hid, Teresa’s knees wobbled, and she leaned back into Nash’s grasp. “That’s the man who was at my apartment. Why is he dressed like a cop?”

Nash swapped positions with Teresa. He pulled back the front of his coat, checking his own sidearm. “Why do you think?”

“Captain Puente,” she groaned. “He called me by name. He knows I work at this hospital.”

Nash swore as the fake cop held open one of the swinging doors and followed Emilia inside. “Then he knows your sister does, too. Stay put.”

“He won’t hurt her, will he?” Nash’s answer was to dart across the hall, flattening his back against the wall there. “Where are you—?”

But he was already stealing down the hall and slipping into the E.R. entrance next to the door through which Emilia and the man had disappeared.

Worried now for both Nash and her sister, Teresa followed. She copied the slim profile Nash had used and sidled along the wall until she reached the E.R. doors. Although there were four separate sets of swinging doors along the way, the workstations inside were sectioned off into several more bays divided by privacy curtains. The configuration of the rooms made it easier to change the layout to meet patient needs. Unfortunately, the interior curtains also made it nearly impossible to know where her sister and the cartel thug had gone or where Nash might be. But when she heard the fake cop’s thickly accented voice challenging something Emilia had said, Teresa went straight to the doors where their conversation was escalating into an argument.

“Where is your sister and her boyfriend?” the creep demanded.

Teresa peeked through the window. When she saw the curtain was drawn, she pushed the silent door open and sneaked inside to do whatever she could to protect Emilia.

Although the curtain blocked her view, Teresa could hear Emilia moving about the work area with the cool efficiency of the doctor she was. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I told you the E.R. was empty. Now get out of here. You’re contaminating this room.”