Exposed (13 page)

Manny, one of the other assistant attorneys on the case was there. He was a couple years older than her and though he’d hinted at being interested in her she’d made it clear early on that she only wanted to be friendly colleagues and nothing more.

Noting how tired he looked, she smiled at him. “Long day, huh?”

“Oh yeah,” he agreed, shifting his grip on a couple of banker’s boxes holding files. “I love burning the candle at both ends. Reminds me of law school.”

She chuckled. “Doesn’t it though? Ah, memories…”

Together they rode to the lobby. It was dark out and even though the building was well lit and had security on site, she still felt a spike of unease as they approached the front doors.

“Hey, would you mind walking me to my car?” she asked Manny. “I’m parked around the far side.”

“Sure, no problem.”

She was glad he didn’t make a big deal out of her security situation. Everyone in the office now knew she’d received a threat involving the Fuentes case.

Manny kept up some friendly chatter as he walked her to her car. It made everything seem less ominous. At the far end of the east side of the building they turned toward the overflow parking lot.

“Which one’s yours?” Manny asked her.

“Silver Buick, parked over by—”

He suddenly stopped and dropped the boxes he carried, grabbing her wrist to pull her back.

Alarm punched through her. “What?” she demanded, her heart rate shooting up.

“Look,” he said, staring toward the parking lot.

She followed his gaze. Her silver rental sat at the far end of a pool of light cast by one of the overhead lamps. Someone had painted a large black oval on the hood.

Her belly constricted.
Oh my God, that’s—

“It’s
el Santo’s
mark,” Manny said grimly. “Come on.” He gripped her hand and began rushing her back toward the building entrance.

Marisol hurried after him, fear detonating in her chest. She’d just been marked for death by the most lethal enforcer in the U.S.’s drug trade.

Chapter Nine

Ethan got out of his rental truck just as a team of men escorted Marisol out of her office building into the parking lot. Police and other unmarked vehicles were parked out front of the law firm and the increased security presence told him something big had happened.

He jogged over to the entrance, held up his ID for the cops out front and headed straight for Marisol. She looked unhurt but tired, and her features were tight with strain.

While he was relieved she was okay, he wanted to know what the hell had happened. He’d come out of a meeting to find a message from Celida on his phone, telling him she wasn’t sure of the details but that Marisol had been threatened again, this time by
el Santo
. He’d jumped into his rental truck and broken half a dozen traffic laws getting here. He was still in his fatigues, hadn’t even taken the time to change before heading here.

“What’s going on?” he asked her, ignoring the other agents around her.

“Not here,” one of them said. A middle-aged man who seemed to be in charge. “I’m Special Agent In Charge Lammers. U.S. Marshals are moving her to a safe location. One of my agents is already picking up her things and will drop them off at the safe house later on.”

A safe house? Jesus. “I’ll follow you there,” he said, falling in step with them. He just wanted Marisol away from here and somewhere safe.

Lammers eyed his uniform for a moment as they walked. “You’re HRT?”

“Yes.”

“How do you two know each other?” He nodded between him and Marisol.

“We grew up together,” Marisol said from the middle of the pack of agents escorting her. She had her arms wrapped around her waist, her spine rigid.

One of the marshals’ phone rang. He checked the screen, frowned before answering. “Travnik.” His gaze strayed to Ethan as he listened. “Yeah, he’s here now.” A pause. “All right. Appreciate it.” He disconnected and said to Ethan, “That was my boss. Apparently someone named DeLuca got you approval to accompany Miss Lorenzo to the safe house. If it’s okay with her.”

Ethan owed that man a beer.

“You comfortable with him following us?” the marshal asked Marisol.

Marisol looked at Ethan and nodded, and he plainly saw the relief in her eyes. “Yes, it’s fine.”

“All right then.” Travnik doled out instructions to the other agents before addressing Ethan again. “You can follow me there. My agents will take her to the house by a different route.”

Sounded good to Ethan. He shifted his gaze to Marisol. “I’ll be there right after you arrive.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

“You don’t need to thank me for that.” He just wanted to ensure she was being taken care of properly and find out what the hell had happened to cause this sudden leap in security measures.

The team escorting Marisol headed west after leaving the parking lot, while Travnik headed south. Ethan followed him to a quiet Coral Gables neighborhood.

They circled around the area a few times before Travnik entered a gated community and pulled into the driveway of a two-story Spanish-style house at the end of a cul-de-sac. Ethan parked at the curb a few houses down and waited a few minutes before walking to the front door, where Travnik let him in.

“We’ve checked the perimeter and all’s clear,” the man said after shutting and locking the door. Ethan could see two others talking to Marisol in the kitchen down the hall. “She’s all set up here and my agent already brought her things over. We’ll have another marshal posted outside, down the street. Will you be staying with her? Protocol dictates at least two of us stay with her at all times, but we can keep watch outside if you’re going to stay.”

“Not sure. Depends on what happens.” They could get the call to execute the op on Alvarez at any time. And despite his commander getting approval for him to be here, Ethan wasn’t sure what DeLuca would think of him crashing here instead of with the others when they might be called in at any moment. He was about twenty minutes from headquarters here. Too far away if he needed to go operational.

“Here’s my personal cell number,” he said, handing Ethan a card. “I told her to call me if anything comes up. You do the same.”

The other agents left with Travnik. Ethan locked the door behind them just as Marisol walked up behind him. He swept his gaze over her.

“Let’s talk in the living room,” she said, gesturing for him to follow her. He sat at the end of the same couch she sank onto. Drawing her feet up beneath her in a ladylike pose, she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear before speaking. “
El Santo
or someone working for him spray painted his symbol on the hood of my rental sometime between nine-thirty and nine-forty, while I was still inside working.”

Holy shit. “Did they find anything?”

She sighed. “There was an explosive device attached to the undercarriage, but it wasn’t hooked up. Because of the symbol on the hood, we know that last part wasn’t an accident. And when they reviewed the security footage there’s a blackout of those ten minutes. The security officer on patrol in the parking lot was on the far side when it happened and didn’t notice anything. They’re still trying to look at other cameras and city CCTV footage to see if they can figure out who might have done it, but if it was
el Santo
, then they’re likely not going to see him. He didn’t gain his reputation by being sloppy.”

No, he hadn’t. And no wonder the FBI had immediately moved her to a safe house. The symbol alone was enough reason to take extra precautions, but that he’d left an inactivated bomb strapped to her undercarriage made Ethan’s blood turn cold. “I’m glad they’re taking this seriously.”

“Me too. The weird thing is, Fuentes hinted that he knew about the threat I’d received. Or maybe he knew that this was coming, I don’t know. It would be hard for him to orchestrate anything from where he is, but not impossible. He said I’m the sacrificial lamb on this case.”

A warning buzz started up in Ethan’s stomach. “He threatened you during an interview?”

She nodded. “He knew damn well every word he said was being recorded, and he had to know there were others watching from the other side of the two-way mirror. He was either talking out of his ass to make himself feel less helpless, or he knows what’s going on. Anyway, the FBI are looking into it now.”

On the outside she seemed to be handling it all fine. It was the inside he was concerned about. “When’s the last time you ate something?”

Marisol blinked at him. “I don’t know. Lunch maybe. Why?”

“You look done in.”

She rubbed a hand over her face and rolled her head from side to side. “Just been a long day. A long week, actually.”

He got up and headed into the kitchen. “I didn’t get dinner either. Let’s see what they left you in the fridge.”

She followed and started looking in the cupboards. “There’s bread and pasta, a couple of cans of soup.”

He studied the contents of the fridge. “They’ve got some salad greens and cheddar cheese in here.” He looked at her over his shoulder. “Grilled cheese and salad?”

A grin tugged at her mouth. “Sure.”

It took them a few minutes to find the equipment they needed. Ethan made the sandwiches while Marisol cut up some veggies and tossed the salad. They ate together on the couch, settling into a companionable silence. Ethan paused in the midst of chewing a bite of salad when his phone chimed with a text.

He pulled it out, expecting to find a message from DeLuca calling him in, but instead saw Schroder’s number along with a picture of a massive double bacon cheeseburger in his teammate’s hand. Another picture appeared a second later, the same kind of burger in Vance’s big hand, his cheeks bulging with a massive mouthful of beef and bacon. Beneath them were the words
Wish you were here
.

Grinning, he typed back,
No you don’t.

You’re right
, Schroder answered a moment later.
More bacon for me this way
.

Ethan snorted then said to Marisol, “Hold up your plate for a second.” She threw him a questioning glance but did as he said. He took a picture of her grilled cheese and texted it back.
Gourmet grilled cheese sammies. And the company’s better here anyhow
.

Schroder responded a moment later.
That hurts, man. Seriously, ow.

Ethan chuckled and put his phone back into his pocket. Marisol swallowed the mouthful she’d been chewing and quirked a brow. “Gonna share?”

“Oh. It’s just Schroder.”

“You said he’s the team medic?”

He nodded. “We’re all trained in combat first aid, but he’s way advanced compared to the rest of us. He was a former PJ.”

She frowned. “What’s that?”

“Pararescue Jumper. Air Force Special Ops. There aren’t very many of them. Anyway, he’s kind of the team shit disturber. In a good way,” he added. Hard not to like the guy.

She smiled at him. “I think it’s neat that you guys seem so close.”

“That’s by design. We get a big say in who makes the team, so we only pick guys we know we’ll like and be able to work with. Our team’s awesome. I love working with them, they’re the best.” It was hard, physically demanding work and the pace was damn near frenetic, but he wouldn’t have it any other way and knew the others would agree.

He noticed Marisol’s plate was empty now. “Here.” He took it from her, stayed her protest as he headed for the kitchen. After loading the plates into the dishwasher and giving the countertop a wipe he sat down next to her, closer this time.

She gave a contented sigh. “That hit the spot, thanks. I feel better.”

“Good. Can I do anything else to help? Want me to stay while you take a shower or whatever?”

“That’s sweet, but no, I’m good for now. Just want to unwind for a bit.” She laid her head back on the couch cushion.

Unwinding for a little while sounded good to him, especially if it meant spending more time alone with her. He leaned back into the couch, put an arm along the backrest, his hand just inches from her shoulder. Marisol had her legs tucked beneath her, her lower legs bare from the knee down, her toenails painted a soft coral pink.

He dragged his eyes from the length of her sleek, sexy legs and back up to her face. “Are you still going to Key West to interview that witness this coming week?”

“Of course,” she said, sounding surprised that he’d asked.

“Did Lammers or Travnik tell you there’ll be a security detail with you?”

“We didn’t talk about it, but I assume we’ll have some kind of security with us. Travnik is already having someone escort me to and from the office, and increasing security there. I’ll be talking to him in the morning. I’ll talk to Frank about the Key West trip and then check with both Lammers and Travnik.”

Ethan frowned. “You’re still planning to work out of the office after this?”

She shrugged. “I have to. Trial’s coming up fast. I’ll have an armed escort to and from the building. And besides, I won’t let some thug intimidate me.”

Ethan set his jaw. “
El Santo’s
not just any thug, Marisol. That’s why you’ve got three federal marshals staying with you at all times.”

She shot him an annoyed look. “I know that.”

“So you’re not scared after what happened tonight? What would have happened if he hadn’t warned you with that symbol spray painted on the hood then hooked up the device and you’d climbed inside and started the engine?” Because the thought was enough to give him fucking nightmares.

She shifted a little, glanced away. “It shook me a little, yeah. But I can’t let them know it. I can’t let them win.”

He grunted in reply.

She settled her gaze on him once more, raised a finely arched eyebrow. “What?”

“I don’t like you being exposed that way.” If it were up to him he’d whisk her out of the city, far away from this mess until it was over. He wanted to wrap her up in his arms and promise to protect her from everything, but he couldn’t.

And to be fair, had he been in her position he wouldn’t run either. While he admired her dedication, it drove him crazy that her life was in danger now.