The Fifth Kingdom (9 page)

Bill woke at her first subtle move away from him. They had spent the night wrapped in each other’s arms, alternating between lying side by side to being spooned together. He rolled to watch her as she rose from the bed, but was unable to gauge her emotional state as the room was relatively dark in the dim morning light.

“I know it’s early,” she said, standing by the bed, her hands laced together and hanging before her. Her feet pressed tightly together, likely to battle the slight chill created by the air conditioning.

Had he been her lover, he might have wondered why she was running from his bed well before the crack of dawn. But he wasn’t and with the investigation underway, that was best. Because of that, he didn’t press.

“It’s okay. I need to get up, but you should probably try to get a little more rest.”

A grateful sigh greeted his response along with a heartfelt, “Thanks. I think I will.”

She flew out the door in a shadowy blur and he relaxed back into the pillows. Raised his hand to check the time on his watch. Five o’clock.
Almost time to get up,
he thought, but lingered a bit, not wanting to lose the sense of serenity the night had brought. Unfortunately it wasn’t long before the demands of the assignment intruded. His brain jumped from one fact to another, connecting all the dots. Leading him to the next moves he would have to take along the journey to find Deanna’s mother and eliminate any possibility of a terrorist attack by Primera Mexica with whatever it was that Miranda had discovered.

But first a shower.

He rolled from bed, grabbing his ribs as they protested the movement, though they felt better than they had the day before. The rub and binding had helped for sure. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he removed the wrap and then walked to the bathroom. Closed the door and got the shower going as hot as he could stand it. The warmth would help his ribs as well, he thought as he undressed.

He hadn’t been wrong, it occurred to him as the water slipped over him, undoing the kinks in his body and alleviating some of the ache in his side. The heat surrounded him, reminding him of the warmth of Deanna’s arms as they had enveloped him. Of the heat generated as their bodies had nestled together and the press of her body, so strong and yet so feminine.

Between his legs, desire awakened an erection and his balls hardened as he imagined holding her close. Cupping those generous breasts and tasting them.

With a groan, he eased his soapy hand down and encircled himself. Stroked while he ignored common sense and let his mind wander to thoughts of Deanna and making love to her. Of hearing her soft husky moans from beneath him as he drove her to a climax. Having her arms surround him once again, pulling him close.

Shuddering, he allowed his release to wash over him, way too quickly because he couldn’t permit himself the leisure of savoring his daydreams for too long. Reminding himself that’s all it could be with her—daydreams—until the assignment was done.

And as soon as it was successfully concluded, he had no doubt that she would be open to more. When that happened, he certainly would take way longer before finding his satisfaction and hers.

Finishing in the bathroom, he exited to find an assortment of messages flooding his BlackBerry, including one confirming a connection between Hector Lopez and Primera Mexica. Finally a link that confirmed how the fringe group might have learned about Miranda Adams’s discovery of the tomb and a possible relic.

He immediately dialed ADIC Williams and was rewarded with a grumpy, “Do you ever sleep?” In the background, he heard a female voice, Williams’s wife Bill supposed, echoing the complaint at the hour of the call.

With a chuckle, he said, “Us CIA guys don’t have the luxury of sleeping late like you FBI guys do.”

“Tell me you’ve got good news, right?” ADIC Williams asked with a resigned sigh.

“Definitely. My men got a hit on Hector Lopez. He’s got ties to PM and based on our review of the journals, he had contact with Miranda Adams. She had reached out to him before her disappearance.”

“That is good news. So what’s our next step?” Although Williams was technically in charge, Williams had enough sense to know when it was time to let Bill take the lead in the investigation.

“A trip to Mexico City. I’ll have my people make arrangements with the intelligence attaché at the embassy. Coordinate with him to set up a way to meet Lopez.” His mind was already spinning through all the ways to ensnare Lopez. Find out just how deeply he was woven into the plans that PM had for Deanna’s mother and her discoveries.

“Sounds like you’ve got all the bases covered. Keep me posted and in the meantime, we’ll continue to offer any support you may need,” the ADIC confirmed before he hung up.

Dressing in his jeans and another sweater once more since they would likely be traveling and he wanted to be comfortable, he eased his holster back on and slipped in his automatic pistol. Grabbing a Windbreaker from his bag, he put it on because he planned on doing a quick check on the two guards before they were relieved by the next watch.

When he exited into the main living space, he was surprised to find the older Dr. Vasquez sitting in the recliner with a book in his hand. A mug sat on the side table beside him, filled with coffee if the aromatic smell was any clue.

“Good morning. You’re up early,” he said deferentially. “No earlier than you,” the old man replied and eyeballed him in a decidedly wary way. Although the professor often seemed absentminded and in his own world, he obviously had a clue that something had happened between his daughter and Bill.

Bill pointed to the door. “I’m just heading to check on the watch. I’ll be back shortly.”

“Deanna had a rough night,” the professor said, clearly not about to let Bill make his escape, but Bill was not about to get into it with her father.

“We should let her sleep later then,” he said and barged out the door, intending on completing his plans before it got too late.

He walked the grounds, keeping a keen eye on things and checking on the two agents who had nothing to report. It had been a calm night, which brought relief. If their two perps had been involved with Los Leones, Bill suspected that the cartel would have quickly had more thugs in the area to try and complete their plan. From what they knew of Primera Mexica, their capabilities were far more limited than that of the drug cartel. That likely explained why things had been peaceful during the night—only PM was involved in this attack and not the cartel.

He returned to the apartment, but sensed he would have no choice but to answer to Deanna’s father when he realized Deanna was still not awake.

Slipping off his jacket and laying it over the back of a chair, Bill looked toward the professor and asked, “Can I get you some more coffee?”

“
Por favor
,” Gonzalo answered and held up his mug.

Bill strode over, grabbed the empty mug and said, “Light and sweet?”

“So you know how my daughter likes her coffee?” Gonzalo said, shooting him a very parental hairy eyeball.

Bill juggled the mug back and forth in his hands and met the old man’s gaze directly. “I know how she’s feeling right now. Confused. Alone.”

“It seems to me she wasn’t so alone last night,” Gonzalo challenged, warning evident in his tone.

“Respectfully, that’s not any of your business.” Before her father could reply, Bill walked back to the kitchen and prepared the coffee. Returned to give Gonzalo the mug, grateful that he didn’t begin the discussion again. Her father just thanked him and returned his attention to the book he had been reading.

Bill set himself up at the kitchen table, began reviewing the reports that had been sent to him on Hector Lopez. Apparently he was a familiar figure in certain circles in Mexico. Historians and academics regularly called on him for his expert opinion. Antiquities dealers came to him to purchase assorted objects or to have Lopez authenticate the provenance of relics they had acquired. It made perfect sense that Miranda, after possibly discovering something unexpected in the tomb, may have gone to Lopez for assistance in light of his reputation.

Unfortunately, Miranda and others were likely unaware that Lopez had deep ties to Primera Mexica or if they were aware, may have had some sympathies for the group. Hopefully their approval for the fringe group had ended when PM had become more violent in recent years.

Since Lopez was a fixture at many social events in Mexico City, Bill hoped it would be relatively easy for them to arrange to meet him and not make it obvious that they had set their sights on him. With some carefully planted information, he hoped that Lopez could provide information that would lead them to Miranda.

He saved the various reports to his computer and was about to start booking flights and hotel rooms when he hesitated, worried about how Deanna would react to his making the decisions without her. So not a good thing, the hesitation. If it had been anyone else working with him on the assignment, he would have just gone ahead and made the plans because they would be expected to heed his commands.

But not Deanna. They had reached a different level of understanding last night and he didn’t want to jeopardize it, for both personal and professional reasons.

A willing Deanna would be much more helpful on the case.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t begin to prepare in other ways.

Via secure channels, he emailed his CIA contacts and asked them to look for additional background information on Hector Lopez. He also made a list of items he would need to develop the cover he planned on using for Deanna and him and asked for those items to be delivered by midday. Finally, he coordinated with their embassy intelligence attaché in Mexico City and provided them with the fake identity he would be assuming during the visit and requested that the attaché attempt to identify any possible events where they could meet Lopez. It was well past eight and three mugs of coffee later when he logged off.

Time to get going,
he thought, eager to review what he had put into place and finalize any other details for what they would do next. Which meant he had to get Deanna going, but as he rose from the table, the sound of a footfall from down the hall advised him that she was already up.

Deanna exited the hall and paused, laying a hand on the wall as if she still needed support. Her eyes were slightly red-rimmed, her creamy skin pale. She had opted for faded jeans and a simple black T-shirt and yet the simple clothing didn’t detract from her elegance or sexiness.

As their gazes connected, she sensed something was happening. “I guess it’s time for us to be on the move.”

“Only if you’re up for a trip to Mexico.”

She shot a half glance at her father, but then returned her attention to him. “What do I need to do?”

The death wails were familiar to Miranda. She’d heard them more than once on some of the digs she’d taken to areas where war, poverty and illness often took people well before their time.

The vocal evidence of grief was chased by angry shouts. She’d heard those often as well, when the men would gather around the campfire, pumping themselves up in preparation for retribution.

Against whom?
she wondered and feared that she might be the target of that anger.

Miranda was fluent in Spanish, but between the histrionics and speed of those speaking over each other, she could only make out a few words.

Enough to know people were dead and that there would be retaliation. But not enough to know anything else.

Javier shouted down the others into silence.

The silence was even scarier.

Miranda rose from the corner of the tiny room and walked to the door. Placing her ear against the thick wood, she struggled to comprehend what Javier was saying, translating his words.

“…cannot kill her…information…tomb.”

A good thing for her since he was apparently cautioning the others against venting their grief on her. She wondered why Javier had suddenly become the voice of reason, but was thankful for it. She had been unable to find a way out of the storage room in which they had tossed her after torture had failed to break her. She had searched every corner. Pried at every loose bit of cinder block, but to no avail.

She was glad she had put together a backup plan because she had feared someone was trying to steal her discovery. Never had she imagined that Primera Mexica would think that there was something within the tomb that they could use to help their cause. Deanna would likely know by now that she was missing and have the journals. Hopefully her daughter would reach out to someone to help her. Maybe she would soon be free.

The clump of boots coming toward the door made her shift back to the corner where she prepared herself for yet more violence. That was one thing on which she could count: Javier and his colleagues believed that violence was the answer to most everything. They might not kill her, but they would make her pay.

The rattle of the lock was followed by the door flying inward, rebounding against the far wall.

Javier tromped in, two of his armed men trailing him. From the dark glares they shot her, she knew trouble was headed her way and braced herself for more trauma. She had barely stopped hurting from the beating she had received days earlier, but she would tolerate whatever they did in the hope of surviving until she was rescued.