Hunted (4 page)

“Thanks,” Leticia said with a little laugh. “I’m proud of me too.”

Unease tightened her stomach. “Did Carl… Did anything happen to make you decide this?”

Another pause, and Zoe could feel Leticia’s hesitation before she answered. “He tried to go after Xander.”

Zoe sucked in a breath, her spine going rigid as her eyes narrowed and her fingers tightened around the phone.
That piece of shit.

“We were arguing again and he got physical, then Xander tried to get between us to protect me. Carl sent him flying, would have beaten on him if I hadn’t screamed at Xander to run. Luckily the neighbors heard us this time and when they showed up Carl took off. Right then I realized I couldn’t afford to wait any longer. My baby’s the most important thing in the world to me—he deserves to live without fear.”

“And so do you,” Zoe added, unable to hide the edge to her voice. She’d been volunteering once a week at the shelter for more than a year now, and too many times the women she’d come into contact with there actually believed that they deserved the treatment their abusers dished out. It made her furious. No woman or child should ever have to live in fear of a beating or worse from a man in their life when he lost it.

“Yeah, I know.”

But Zoe got the feeling Leticia
didn’t
know it. Not yet. She would though, eventually, when she’d had enough time and distance from Carl to see everything clearly. “Did you go to the police?”

“Yes, and I got a restraining order like you told me to.”

“Good.” She glanced at her watch. Ten minutes to six. “Listen, I can still come in, it’s no problem—”

“No, we’re fine. But thanks. Just…you’re sure this place is secret, right? I mean, even the cops, they don’t know where it is, right?”

One of the reasons she’d refused to leave before was because she was so afraid of Carl and his connections across the city. It was no secret that some politicians and cops down here were known to be corrupt, and even though Leticia hadn’t said who Carl was or what he did, clearly she believed the strings he was capable of pulling were powerful ones.

“Right. Only the workers and the women who stay there know the location, and we’re all bound to secrecy. You and Xander will be safe there,” Zoe promised.

A loud sigh filled the line. “Be nice to feel safe enough to sleep through the night for once. Maybe not tonight or even the next one, but hopefully in a few days it’ll sink in that we’re not in danger anymore.”

Zoe hated that she and Xander had lived that kind of life for so long. “Do you have a plan in mind yet? Where you want to go?”

“I’m not going back to Tennessee. He’ll look for me there, track down my family. He
knows
people, has connections all over the South, and a lot of them owe him favors. Trust me when I tell you, I have good reason to be scared of him.”

Jesus, who was this guy? “Then we need to start thinking about somewhere else you could go. A different city for sure, but out of state would be even better. We’ve got contacts through social workers, even the FBI—”

“
No
. No Feds or cops or anyone else like that.” Her voice was so panicked that Zoe felt a chill run down her spine. “Just you and whoever can help me here. That’s the only reason I came in. I trust
you
.”

“Okay, it’s all right, I won’t say anything to anyone,” Zoe said, rushing to soothe her. Her cousin Tuck was on the FBI Hostage Rescue Team and his girlfriend, Celida—who was also Zoe’s best friend—was an agent too. They’d have solid contacts to help her, but she wasn’t going to break Leticia’s trust. “I’ll be in first thing in the morning to talk everything over with you. Okay?”

Maybe by then Leticia would realize she needed more help than Zoe or the others could give her, and she’d allow Zoe to contact Celida about this. Maintaining Leticia’s trust was key, however, and she wouldn’t rush her into a decision. One false move and the woman could bolt, disappear without a trace with her son. Maybe Carl would find them again. Zoe couldn’t let that happen.

“Thanks, I appreciate it,” Leticia said softly.

“It’s the least I can do,” Zoe insisted. “I’ll have my cell with me if you need anything, okay?”

“Nah, I don’t wanna bug you, you’ve already done so much to help us. I’ll see you tomorrow though?”

Zoe didn’t miss the uncertainty in the question. Leticia may not have had many people she could count on in her life, but Zoe and the others at the shelter were solid. They wouldn’t let anything happen to her on their watch. “Bright and early.”

As she tucked her phone back into her bag she felt lighter, as if an invisible weight had been lifted from her shoulders. The streetcar had just come into view at the far end of the road when her cell buzzed again. This time when she pulled it out she smiled at the sight of Tuck’s name on the display.

We just finished up. Heading into NOLA now. We still on for tonight?

She snorted. Was he kidding?
Uh, duh. YES!
she typed back.

Got Bauer, Evers and Schroder with me. Be at your place around nine.

She didn’t know who Schroder was but guessed he must be one of their teammates. Bauer and Evers, though, she knew. And she’d like to get to know one of them a whole lot better.

A buzz of excitement hummed in the pit of her stomach as she texted again.
Sounds good. I’ll be ready.

Ready as in looking fabulous and set to make a move on a certain sexy former SEAL with questionable social skills, she thought with a satisfied smile. His rough edges didn’t bother her. He’d been through a lot. They were different, but they also had a lot in common. They’d both been divorced, for one, though hers looked freaking amicable compared to his. And she knew damn well he wanted her, no matter how aloof he seemed.

In a way he was like Leticia, jaded and street smart and didn’t trust easily. Zoe was determined to win him over, show him not all women were manipulative and calculating psychos like his mentally unstable ex.

Putting the phone away as the streetcar ground to a halt in front of her and opened its door, Zoe climbed the steps, imagining the look on Bauer’s face when she showed him just how
interested
she was and took them firmly out of the friend zone this weekend.

****

Carlos parked in the back alley and climbed out of the car with a foreign ball of unease grinding in the pit of his stomach. All the blinds on the front of the house were drawn. His sixth sense kicked in. It had kept him alive in many dangerous situations before so he never ignored it. And right now it was telling him that she was already gone.

He entered the gate at the side of the wooden privacy fence encircling the property. The neighborhood was good and even though he’d offered to buy Leticia a house multiple times, she’d always turned him down, preferring to live in this modest place and pay her own rent. Her independence was one of the things he loved most about her. Now it threatened to take her from him for good.

Opening the side door with his key, the stillness hit him. He closed the door behind him, the sound seeming to echo in the absolute silence that surrounded him. His hand shook as he shoved the key back into his front pocket. Jaw clenched, he flipped on the kitchen light. The dirty dishes in the sink were a dead giveaway. As was the milk carton still on the granite-topped counter.

She’d gone. He’d bet right after he’d taken off yesterday.

A deep, burning rage lit up in his chest. The heat of it seared him as he stalked through the kitchen to the family room. He paused, his gaze stuck on the fireplace. All the framed photos of them were gone. His hand balled into a fist at the thought of her wiping the images of them away.

His boots thudded over the hardwood as he strode down the hall to the master bedroom. The bed was perfectly made, not a single wrinkle in the coverlet. He stepped to the bathroom, noticed immediately that her makeup case and toothbrush were missing. A sick feeling of dread took hold, smothering the flames of his anger. Pushing open the door to the walk-in closet, he held his breath and flipped on the light.

A gap on one of the shelves caught his attention. There were several gaps in between the hangers on the rod next to it as well. He glanced up at the top shelf, noticed the largest of her suitcases was missing. Oh yeah, she was gone all right. And from the looks of it, not just for the weekend.

Disappointment and betrayal warred inside him, along with a heaping of guilt. He’d made her run. He’d scared her away by being too forceful too soon. She was different than any of the other women he’d been with, more headstrong and confident. He’d known early on that she wouldn’t come to heel quickly or easily, which was half the reason he’d wanted her so bad. She was the only woman who’d ever stood up to him and held her ground, even knowing him and his reputation. What he was capable of. He loved that about her.

But now she’d left him. Run from him with her mouthy brat who had caused all this in the first place.

He’d teach her there was nowhere she could go that he couldn’t find her. And when he found her…

He shut off the light and closed the closet door. If she came back he didn’t want her to know he’d been here. He couldn’t risk spooking her to bolt again before he caught her and taught her a lesson. No woman ever walked out on him.

Locking the front door behind him, he let himself out back through the side gate, his attention snagging on the garbage can lid sitting askew next to the garage. Walking over, he lifted the lid, every muscle in his body going rigid when he saw the broken picture frames inside. Pictures of them together, the images obscured by the shatter marks in the glass. All from the fireplace, the few from her bedroom.

The symbolism of it hit him in the chest with the force of a bullet. She’d not only run from him, she’d thrown them away.

He dragged in a slow, deep breath to ease the pressure in his lungs, the fury choking him, and dug his phone out of his hip pocket. “She’s gone,” he said when Rick answered.

“Sorry, man,” Rick said, sounding apologetic.

Carlos swallowed past the thickness in his throat. “Trace her phone and find out where she is.”

“Hang on.” The sound of fingers clacking on a keyboard came in the background.

Carlos stood there waiting in the smothering heat, and even though his body was sweating, inside he was ice cold. His jaw tightened again as he stared down at the ruined photos.

Tossing the lid aside, he tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder and tied the black plastic bag shut with an angry tug, then yanked it from the can. He wasn’t leaving them here for anyone else to find. Later he’d come back and sweep the place for other personal stuff that might hint at his connection to Leticia, wiping any fingerprints and erasing himself from the house. DNA was a problem, but he had the resources and he’d call in a cleaning crew to scrub any evidence of his presence from the premises.

There could be no proof left behind once he located and went after her.

“You sure you put the tracker on her phone?” Rick asked.

Carlos straightened, held the phone in his hand once more. “Yeah, why?”

“It’s not working. Think she might have found it and disabled it?”

“No.” He’d put it inside the SIM card slot himself when she wasn’t looking. “She might have ditched it and gotten a new one though. Trace her call records. Find out who she’s been talking to and where she called from. Call me back once you find something.” Jealousy, suspicion swirled in his mind. If she’d been calling one guy more than any other, he’d find out. If the guy had touched her, he was a dead man walking for touching what was his.

Carrying the trash bag, Carlos stalked to his truck. A nondescript ten-year-old Ford pickup that was perfect for his latest undercover role. He’d gotten so good at playing parts over the years that he actually believed his own cover story. Leticia had fallen for it too, falling in love with the bad boy image the job required. But she didn’t realize just how bad he could be, or all the criminal connections he had access to because of his role.

She was going to find out the truth firsthand soon enough.

At a little past nine that night Clay stood sweating on the cracked sidewalk out front of Zoe’s place with Tuck, Evers and Schroder. He knew she’d moved here from Mid-City to rent a place a couple months ago, soon after his surgery. The noise of the French Quarter surrounded him with the smoky sounds of jazz coming from a band playing around the corner and the laughter and chatter from the tourists filling the cramped streets. Underlying the tantalizing scent of food coming from the restaurant down the street, the faint scent of overripe garbage hung in the still air.

“Move over and gimme some room, man,” Schroder said to him, bumping his shoulder into Clay’s to get him to step closer to the wall.

“Find your own spot, it’s too damn hot for you to stand so close,” Clay muttered, but stepped aside anyhow. They were all crowded together in the little patch of space created by the wrought iron pillars supporting the balcony above them, to allow the flow of pedestrians to walk past. It was wide enough that it blocked the stream of the streetlamp coming from behind them.

“Quit your bitching. We’re in New Orleans, baby. They call it the Big Easy for a reason—this town’s full of food, jazz and women. Who cares about a little humidity?”

Ignoring the jab, Clay peered through the black wrought-iron gate at the entrance of Zoe’s place that served to block the pedestrian traffic from entering the historic brick building. He sincerely hoped she had better security upstairs, because anyone with a bolt cutter could cut through that flimsy-ass lock she had on there, and anyone with some training could blow through it with a couple well-placed kicks.

He lifted his gaze from the combination lock holding the thing shut and looked through the arched entryway to the far end. Warm lamplight filtered down through what appeared to be a courtyard nestled in the center of the building. The sound of trickling water came from whatever lay on the other side of the far brick wall.