Texas Hold 'Em (17 page)

Then again, maybe not.

As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she spied a pile of wind-driven garbage that had collected between a creosote bush outside and one of the pilings underneath the house. A faded plastic bag caught her eye first, then an empty beer can rattling beside it. About a foot away, a length of short rope slowly uncoiled itself at the disturbance. A sick realization came to her immediately.

It wasn’t short, and it
definitely
wasn’t a rope.

The snake was at least five and a half feet long, maybe a little bit more. The telltale black and brown diamonds painted along its spine shimmered in the dawn’s yellow glow spilling over the nearest mountain ridge and under the house. Empty black eyes stared at her from a triangle-shaped head, dark diagonal lines painted on either side of it, flowing back toward the tail. As she stared, the snake raised its head off the ground, the striped bands just above the rattles undulating slowly.

Fear filled her mouth, horror blocking out everything else, including the distant gunfire. Rattlesnakes were common in the area. But she’d never been this close to one and he definitely didn’t look happy at having his home disturbed. She measured the gap between them with her eyes and guessed it to be four feet, maybe less. She tried to reassure herself. Even if the snake were six feet long, it would be hard-pressed to strike her from that distance.

She might be okay.

Unless it was longer.

Or the space was shorter.

She inched backward, her movement so slow it was almost invisible. The snake watched with an unblinking stare. Suddenly her foot caught on a larger rock and slipped. The rattler’s eyes flicked, his tongue darting out as if to see what had happened, and figure out how he could take advantage of it.

Rose’s pulse took an extra beat as she held her breath.

She reminded herself of the facts. They had a bad reputation for sure, but rattlers avoided people, like most snakes, and biting was rare. She’d been called out only once to a ranch where the owner had been bitten by one. The man had survived, but his ranch had been too remote for him to get the attention he’d needed quickly enough. A bad heart condition hadn’t helped. He’d lost his leg, the venom too potent to overcome. He’d considered himself lucky at that. Licking her lips, she wondered if she’d be that fortunate.

Releasing her breath, she started moving again, widening the distance another foot. She was almost at the edge of the house when she heard the door of the room above her fly open. Enrique’s Spanish curses filled the air as he realized what happened. Rose didn’t waste another second. With the snake momentarily distracted, she abandoned her crawl and scrabbled backward with panic-fueled speed. Just as she reached the edge of the house, the rotten floorboards creaked again. More of them suddenly gave way with a horrible moan, and Enrique’s legs came crashing through the hole. The snake’s head turned, and then he struck.

…

After a five-minute ride, Santos left the Harley on a ridge closer to the ramshackle cabin than the one where he’d been standing before. He didn’t want to risk Enrique hearing the bike, even though the exchange of gunfire by the gate where he’d posted the ACES team had destroyed any hope of catching the occupants by surprise. Hopefully, Enrique still wouldn’t expect Santos to appear at the house so quickly, and that’s how he wanted to keep it.

Running through the brush toward the porch, he let images of Rose fill his head. He saw her in her kitchen questioning him, and he saw her straddling the back of his bike in the moonlight. He thought about how she’d looked naked in the bed at Reina’s, her face flushed after they’d made love, her lips red from kissing him. He recalled her expression when she’d told him she’d killed Mike Slider. Most of all, he remembered how she stared at him in misery when he’d arrested her mother.

She’d never forgive him, and maybe he didn’t even deserve her absolution, but he’d done what he had to do. And he’d love her forever, regardless of how she felt about him.

Spotting a boulder halfway between him and the cabin, he ran for it and slid to a stop, taking advantage of the protection. Whipping the binoculars out of his pocket, he brought them to his eyes.

The SUV—and hopefully the guards—were gone.

The place looked abandoned. But unless Enrique had taken her into the desert, Rose must still be there. Santos swept the glasses over the surrounding area. It looked as empty as the rest of the desert. A sudden movement caught his peripheral vision, and he jerked the glasses back toward the cabin and squinted. The crawlspace under the house was barely visible, yet that’s where he’d seen something. Probably an animal. Maybe a coyote or a javelina scrounging for food. He wasted a few more precious seconds staring, finally deciding he’d imagined it.

Jumping up and zigzagging through the scrub, he ran for the porch light once again. When a high-pitched scream split the silence, his heart stopped. But his feet didn’t.

…

Enrique bellowed as he slithered through the opening, the sound of a cracking bone coming a heartbeat later. Slashing at the rattler with a knife he gripped in one hand, he reached for Rose’s leg with the other.

The drug dealer was tall, broad shouldered, and crazy with fear. Trapped on his back and unable to turn, he latched on and pulled.

Rose blinked away the blood still trickling from her temple and lifted her free foot as high as she could. A solid jolt ripped through her body as she slammed her tennis shoe into Enrique’s head. It bounced off, and she smashed down on his collarbone even harder. Bone ground against bone, and he shrieked in pain. But he held onto her even tighter.

Desperate to escape the enraged man and the even more pissed-off snake, she clawed at the loose gravel, dragging Enrique with her. In a haze of disbelief, she almost laughed, imagining the snake holding onto Enrique’s ankle like he gripped hers.

Sweet air rushed over her face as she reached the edge of the house. With her last ounce of strength, she managed to reach back and swing her arms above her head, sinking her fingernails into the soft wood siding above her. Splinters pierced her fingertips. Grunting with effort, she dragged her shoulders over the rocky, unlevel ground underneath the house.

At the same time, Enrique managed to get his other hand around her ankle. He wanted out from under the house as much as she did, and was using her as his rope. Her fingers were torn from her grip on the siding, and he started dragging her backward instead. Shadow enveloped her again as he pulled her back, her head slipping past the edge of the house. She screeched and kicked violently and, stretching out her fingers, frantically felt for a rock, a stick, even a clod of dirt she could use against him before he could gain complete control over her.

Instead of a weapon, she found a pair of familiar hands. Slipping his fingers beneath her shoulders, Santos leaned down and yanked her free.

She’d never been as happy to see him as she was at that very second.

Chapter Eighteen

“Are you okay?”

Santos pulled her tight in a hard embrace, then released her.

Rose gasped out, “Yes. Enrique…he’s under there,” she managed, pointing to the crawlspace. “And he’s got a knife.”

Santos threw himself to the ground and started to crawl, ready to kill the man with his bare hands.

Rose cried out another warning. “Wait! There’s a rattler, too. I think it’s dead, but watch out.”

Stopping where he was, he peered under the house, his gaze leading his gun. Frozen in the dim light, Juan Enrique lay in the dirt, his chest heaving as he struggled to breathe, his chest rising and falling from the effort. A knife shone dully a foot behind him. Beyond the bloody weapon was a coiled diamondback, his head hanging by a ragged thread, his body still jerking. The snake was alive, but just barely, his dying rattle an empty threat.

“Get me out,” Enrique begged him. “
La serpiente de cascabel
—it’s right behind me. It’s already bitten me. Please!”

Santos wondered if he could live with himself if he abandoned the man and simply walked away. Enrique’d had no problem torturing Concepción DeLeon until she’d died. Some people might have said he deserved a death as painful and hopeless as hers—especially her mother. Then Santos had another idea. Enrique couldn’t see the snake; he had no idea it was almost dead.

“Why did you kill Concepción DeLeon?”

“Get out of my way or pull me out!” the drug dealer screamed. “It’s going to bite me again—”

“Tell me the truth and I’ll help you,” he countered.

“Who the hell are you?” the dealer screeched. “Just get me out.”

“Tell me,” Santos pressed.

“Yes, yes! I killed her, okay? She threatened to tell everyone about Carlos—her brother—and Bennie. I had to get rid of her before anyone found out I hired them, now please—”

“Who the hell’s Bennie?”

“He was at the trailer park with Carlos.” He lifted his head and tried to look around him, his panic reaching a near explosive level. “I wa—wanted them to grab the sheriff and make everyone think Ortega had done it. Now get me out of here before I die!”

“And the dead man at your house? Was that Bennie?” Santos asked calmly.

“Yes,” Enrique howled. “I killed him so the sheriff would think it was me and stop looking for me! And I wanted to shut him up so he wouldn’t tell anyone about the trailer park.”

“The candle, and the boy with the knife?”

Enrique gasped. “Yes! Yes, I did it all, now p-please… I-I’ve told you everything. You can’t leave me here! Help me out, Mother of God—”

Santos wanted to abandon the drug dealer even more than he had before his confession, but he couldn’t. With a muttered, “Shit,” he reached in and grabbed Enrique’s arm, dragging him over the gravel as roughly and painfully as he possibly could.

The minute he cleared the crawlspace, Enrique pulled out a wicked boot knife, jumped to his feet and launched himself at Santos.

He cursed himself for not being faster as they both went down, Santos sprawling in the dirt. The Glock went flying. Enrique sliced out with his knife, and his cheek erupted in a fiery sting. He swiped his hand back the other way. The blade was at Santos’s throat before he could block it. Grabbing Enrique’s wrist, he barely managed to deflect the knife’s trajectory. The blade jumped from his throat but kept coming, and this time it sliced across his forehead. On the downward swing it pierced the skin of his throat.

Then Enrique went unaccountably still. Santos raised his gaze. Rose stood behind him with Santos’s gun pushed into the back of Enrique’s neck. Her hands were completely steady.

“Drop the knife,” she said evenly. “Drop it now or you’re a dead man.”

…

The gunfire down the road stopped soon after they had Enrique hugging one of the beams at the corner of the house, his hands tied securely around it. By the time Rose had walked around the corner with Santos by her side, the ACES team was riding up, Dan’s truck on their bumpers. Jessie got off her bike and strolled toward the two as if nothing had happened. She gave Enrique a casual glance. “Really? Only one bad guy? We’ve gotten rounded up down by the gate.”

Shaky and filthy, Rose managed a laugh. “We’ll do better next time.”

“I’m sure your deputy will appreciate credit for the arrest, regardless.” Jessie grinned. “Somehow he got an anonymous tip two motorcycle chapters were shooting at each other down by Las Lomas. Unfortunately, he’ll only find one gang when he gets there. The others just…rode off into the sunset.”

“Good job.” Santos tilted his head toward the falling-down cabin and told Jessie, “Take the team over there and let Enrique hear you brag about beating another gang. I want him thinking I came out here to make a deal with him. Drop a few names. Enrique will think his brother sent us. He owns this place.”

Santos watched her leave, then he faced Rose. “Thanks for the help back there.”

“One good turn deserves another. You’ve helped me out a few times here lately.”

“Let’s call it a draw.”

Unsure of where the conversation was heading, she hesitated. If they didn’t handle this moment right, everything between them could be lost forever. It was probably lost anyway, once Santos realized her mother had escaped.

She procrastinated with a simple question. “How did you figure out what happened to me?”

He explained the phone call from the tech in Austin. “Your neighbor saw the license plate on the SUV, and we traced it to Marcos Enrique.”

“But how did you find this?” She waved her to indicate the isolated landscape. “We’re in the middle of nowhere.”

A reluctant acknowledgement flashed over his harsh features. “Dan knew where it was. He has a hunting lease on the ranch next door.”

Rose couldn’t help but grin. “I guess we owe him one, too.”

“I’m afraid so.”

A silent pause came, and then Rose spoke again, her amusement slowly fading again. “I heard Enrique tell you what he did. He boasted about it to me, too. His grandmother would have been devastated. She was a good woman.” The morning air held the scent of cedar as a sudden breeze made the nearest tree shiver. “He wanted us to think Ortega was behind everything.”

A look came into Santos’s eyes that made her shiver, too. “I’ll find him,” he promised, looking toward the shadowy mountains. “Ortega got away this time, but sooner or later, I’ll find him. I’ve come to realize something, though—”

Jessie came around the edge of the house, slapping her riding gloves against her chaps. “Enrique got the story. Unless you need anything else, we’re going to leave before King gets here.”

“We’re good. Tell the guys I’m buying the beer tonight.”

Saluting Santos and giving Rose a quick nod, she walked away. The Harleys grumbled to life and the ACES team took off.

Rose turned back to Santos, a sudden concern coming to her. “You think your cover’s still good?”

“Even if he finds out anything, Enrique will keep quiet, if he wants to stay alive. He’ll be more worried about his ass than mine, because if they ever find out the truth, Ortega’s men will hunt him down and kill him for messing with their boss’s reputation. He’s a lot of things but he’s not an idiot.”

He took a step toward her, and suddenly she was paralyzed. His gaze was filled with unspoken questions, his face etched with an unreadable expression. She could feel the tension coming off his body, and it enveloped her. He looked like a man who had come to a decision. What was it?

“If I fight, drink till I pass out, drive like a maniac…no one gives a shit,” he said quietly. “I don’t care how I have to act, if that’s what I need to do to stop Ortega.”

“I’m not so sure it’s an act anymore,” she said.

“You may be right.” He lifted a hand toward her cheek but dropped it before he could touch her. But I warned you, Rose. I told you how much I want to put the bastard away. I said I’d do anything to get him, and I still mean that. I’m just not sure I’d do it the same way.”

“What about my mother? She—”

He suddenly looked uneasy. “She knew what she was getting into. I gave her every opportunity to pull out.”

Rose nodded. “She confirmed everything you said. How you urged her to take her chances and plead out. How she insisted on going undercover instead. How you promised her you wouldn’t tell me. Even the arrest she knew would come. I just wish it could have been played another way.”

“I do, too,” he said simply, his admission surprising her. “If I’d had any idea it would end like this, I would have refused to let her go undercover, no matter how badly she wanted it. I should never even have let her hear my boss’s offer. She should have taken the chance and left Ortega behind.”

“I don’t think she would have, no matter what you said or did,” Rose countered, now surprising herself. “The man she saw Ortega kill—he wasn’t a stranger. He was her lover after she’d realized what kind of man Ortega really was. He wouldn’t let her leave, but he couldn’t make her love him. She wanted revenge as much as she wanted anything.” She’d admitted that at the hospital. “But I’m not sure who used who in this deal.”

He didn’t seem shocked at her words. In fact, he looked as if his mind were somewhere else. His expression made her think again, and she considered his words, her thoughts swirling in confusion until they narrowed to a single sharp point.

Immediately, she questioned her realization, second-guessing herself.
She couldn’t possibly be right
. Then slowly and carefully, she accepted the truth.

Her mother hadn’t escaped. Santos had looked the other way, and allowed her to leave.

Rose suddenly understood his dedication to his work, his black and white ways, his shoot-now-ask-questions later routine had all been abandoned because he loved her. He’d been willing to forsake the very foundation of who he was because she meant more to him than anything else. Possibly even his life.

Her breath caught in her throat as she contemplated the enormity of what he’d done.

He’d let Gloria go. He’d bent the rules.

All for her.

…

Rose’s eyes widened in shock, and Santos knew exactly what was coming, but for the first time in a long time, he couldn’t lie. Even if it made a fool out of him, he had to tell her the truth. The time had come when he couldn’t do anything else.

“She didn’t escape, did she?” A tiny intake of breath accompanied her words. “You let her go.”

“Yes. I let her go. It was the only thing I could do, no matter the consequences. I love you too much to make your mother pay any more than she already has.” Capturing her gaze with his, he spoke softly. “I love you, Rose. I loved you when we lived together, I loved you when you walked out the door. I’ve loved you every minute since then. And I’ll never stop loving you. Never forget that, no matter what happens between us.”

She seemed to collapse against him. “Oh, God, Santos—I love you, too. I don’t know what I was thinking when I doubted you. I didn’t understand, but I do now.” She paused. “What made you change your mind? How did she…” She stopped, the ability to express herself escaping in light of her revelation.

“I was listening outside the door when you went to see her at the hospital. I’d gone there to formally charge her, then I heard the two of you talking about Mike Slider.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “I pulled the hospital watch, and told Jessie to go home.”

She opened his arms, folded them around her, and held on so tight he found it hard to breathe. “I can’t believe you did this for me.”

“I was willing to give up my identity and pretty much everything else in return for keeping her—and you—alive, until I could locate her and catch Ortega. I took too many risks. And realized I had to accept what I’d been trying to push away all along. If I really loved you as much as I knew I did, there’s one thing I couldn’t do any longer—to be dishonest with you. The only way I knew to convince you I had changed and you were getting the truth was to put my money where my mouth was. I had to let her go.”

The wind shifted and the piercing cry of a mockingbird came to them. The sound seemed out of place. Then again, maybe not. The bird didn’t have a song of its own, all it did was sing others’ tunes.

Nothing was what it seemed in West Texas, not even the animals.

He tightened his hands against her back. “I have no idea where your mother is, and I don’t want to know. All I hope is that it’s somewhere good. She deserves a second chance.” The sound of his pulse echoed in his ears. He’d faced stone-cold killers with less trepidation. “I hope you’ll give me one, too.”

She pulled back to look at him, her eyes filled with tears. He was struck by how they glistened, and he realized he’d never seen her cry before. Not in all the time they’d been together. Not even when they’d parted before.

She grabbed his hands, and suddenly his breath was trapped inside his chest. “Oh, God, Santos, I’ve made such a mess of things. I’m the one who should have realized you were only doing what you thought was right. All you’ve ever wanted was to do your job, and all I ever did was try and stop you. I was so wrong. I— I don’t know what to say.”

“‘I love you’ was good enough.” He grinned. “You can’t top that.” He looked down at their entangled fingers, his heart thumping faster than he thought was possible. “But I’d really appreciate if you let me stay in Rio County and finish what I came here to do.”

“Of course, I’ll let you do that. I love you, too. Too much to ever to let you leave. We can’t ever let that happen again. And that’s a feeling that’s never going to change, no matter how much trouble life may throw at us in the future. No matter the arguments, no matter the troubles, no matter what. All that counts is we found each other again. You’re staying here, even if I have to arrest you to make it happen.”

“Even though the night we made love you said it didn’t mean anything?”

She smiled. “Maybe you’re not the only one who doesn’t always tell the truth.”

He pulled her back into his arms and held her against him, a fierce wave of love washing over him. His embrace said everything he didn’t have the words to describe, and he realized from her tremble that she understood. He cursed himself again for the conflict that had almost stolen from them the most precious thing anyone could ever have—their love. All he could do was pray that time would heal the hurt. Something told him that restoration had already begun in her heart and his.