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The bartender placed their beers in front of them and Josh absently clinked his mug against hers. “What makes you think he’s alive now? Just because that violent individual in the alley told you so?”
“That’s not all. There have been a couple of other signs...messages.”
“From him?”
Her hand jerked at Josh’s harsh tone, and the beer sloshed over the side of the glass and ran down her hand. She plucked a cocktail napkin from the artfully arranged stack and dabbed her knuckles.
“A couple of texts using a...nickname that nobody else would know.”
Josh leaned back and took a gulp of beer. “Why would your husband text you? Why not call you or better yet, walk up to your mother’s place and knock on the door?”
She flicked the beer mug with her fingernail. How much should she reveal to this man she’d just met yesterday? Telling him the whole truth, that her husband and father had been involved in the drug trade and both had been killed at the same time in a planned assassination—would make anyone run for the exit.
That’s not something you just blurted out on a first date.
“It’s complicated, Josh. He wouldn’t be in a position to just come to me freely.”
“Sounds...dangerous.”
“It is.” She twisted her hair around one hand and then dropped it as the strands abraded the scrapes on her palm. “That’s why I don’t want to drag you into it from your safe and sane world of software development.”
“Yeah, safe and sane.” His lips quirked. “Sounds pretty far-fetched to me. Would you really go off with a stranger in search of your husband? Or did you know that man in the alley?”
“Never saw him before in my life.”
Josh shook his head. “I can’t believe a savvy woman like you, a cautious woman like you, one who carries a .22 in her handbag on a date...”
She touched the purse hanging over her knee.
“Yeah, I know you have it in there. Anyway, can’t believe someone like you would traipse off with a stranger promising to take you to your dead husband.”
“I...” She pressed two fingers against her lips. She knew she’d been taking a risk meeting that man in the alley, but she had to know if Ricky was alive. “You’re right, but he offered a compelling lure.”
“That’s exactly what it sounds like to me—a lure. That man in the alley wants something from you and figured the best way to get you to go with him was the story about your dead husband.”
Hunching forward, she grabbed his wrist. “But what if it isn’t a story? What if RJ’s father is alive? I have to know.”
“Forget about it, Gina. He’s dead.”
She flung his arm away from her. “You don’t know that. You don’t know anything. I’m sorry I told you.”
“Why, because you don’t want to hear the truth?”
“It’s a possibility. Don’t you understand that? I have to know for sure, for RJ’s sake.”
“He’s dead, Gina.”
“Stop saying that. How can you be so sure after hearing just a portion of the whole story?”
“I am sure.”
“Why?”
“Because I was there when your father and husband were shot and killed.”
Chapter Four (#u384220e4-1c6b-5e90-9906-f81936431ef2)
Ice water raced through her veins. She gulped against the sensation of drowning, but the air never seemed to make it to her lungs. She sputtered and gasped.
The stranger across from her squeezed her knee. “Do you need some water?”
“Water?” She gurgled. Why would she need water when the stuff threatened to overwhelm her?
“Gina, are you okay? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to spring it on you like this.”
“Spring what?” She pressed her hands to her face, her skin cool and clammy beneath her touch. “Who are you? What do you want from me? Have you been the one sending those texts?”
His lying eyes widened. “Texts? Someone’s been sending you texts?”
She tried to hop off the stool but forgot her feet were hooked around its legs, and she fell forward instead. His arms curled around her, breaking her fall as she landed against his chest.
“I’ve given you a shock.” He gently lifted her from the stool and set her on wobbly legs. “A table opened up in the corner. Let’s grab it.”
She didn’t want to grab anything with this man, but she couldn’t seem to form a coherent thought, never mind launch some kind of offensive against him.
She allowed him to lead her to the table and she plopped down in the chair.
He placed her mug of beer in front of her. “Have a drink.”
Wrapping her hands around the heavy glass, she raised it to her lips and gulped down half the mug. Then she wiped the foam from her mouth with the back of her hand.
“Are you going to tell me who you are or am I going to whip that weapon out of my purse for encouragement?”
He had the nerve to smile, if that’s what that twist of his lips meant.
“I’m glad to see you’re coming around. You had me worried there for a minute.”
“Stop stalling, Josh Edwards, or whoever you are.”
“Josh Elliott—only a partial lie.”
She ignored the hand he held out to her. “That doesn’t tell me a thing. What are you and why are you stalking me and how do you know about my father and my husband and how they died?”
“I’m a United States navy SEAL.” He pulled out a wallet and snapped an ID card on the table between them.
Pressing her lips into a line, she poked it with her finger as if it could bite her. It looked official, but she knew all too well anything could be faked or forged. “And?”
“We assisted the CIA in Colombia when they took down the controlling members of the Los Santos drug cartel and the two terrorists they were meeting.”
She flinched, nearly biting her tongue. “Terrorists?”
“The two men your father was meeting with that day—known terrorists.”
The ice in her veins turned to molten lava as rage coursed through her system. “My father was meeting with terrorists in his home, while I was there? While RJ was there?”
“Afraid so.” He cocked his head at her.
He didn’t believe she didn’t know.
“How did you assist the CIA? I didn’t see any military there that day.”
He blinked once, his spiky black lashes falling over dark eyes filled with secrets. “That’s classified information. Let’s just say we were there for protection.”
“Not mine.”
“Did the CIA...rough you up?” His jaw tightened.
“Did they pull out my fingernails under a bright bulb? Not quite, but it was no picnic, and the DEA was even worse.”
“I’m sure it was...traumatic to lose your father and husband in that manner.”
She flicked her fingers. “That was then. This is now. What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to protect you.”
She snorted. “From what?”
“From that man in the alley who pretended he was going to take you to your dead husband.” He steepled his blunt fingers. “From whomever is sending you text messages.”
The worry she’d been experiencing ever since she’d received that first text washed over her once again, and she clutched her stomach. The sudden pain in her gut could be from mixing mojitos and beer, but she didn’t think so.
“Ricky really isn’t alive?”
“No way.”
She took a slow sip of beer this time and licked the nutty taste from her lips as she considered this latest piece of news. Would this navy SEAL have any reason to lie to her...about this?
“I still don’t understand. Why am I in danger all of a sudden?”
Folding his arms on the table, he lifted his chin. “Why don’t you tell me what was in those texts?”
She dug her cell phone from her purse and skimmed through her messages. She stopped at the first one she’d received and read it aloud. “‘Where are the drugs? Where are the weapons, paloma?’”
“Paloma? Dove.”
“I-it was Ricky’s nickname for me. Nobody knew about that name. That’s why I believed that man tonight when he said Ricky was alive.”
“I wouldn’t put much stock in that. Ricky could’ve told anyone about it. Drugs and weapons? What do you know about drugs and weapons?”
She jerked back, putting more space between her and Josh’s intense gaze. He might be here to protect her, but he didn’t trust her.
She didn’t trust him either.
“I don’t know anything about drugs or weapons. I had nothing to do with my father’s business and didn’t even know his business until shortly before I was married.”
“Once you knew his business and your husband’s was drugs, why would you choose to put your son in danger by bringing him to that house?”
Gina crossed her arms, digging her fingernails into her biceps through the material of her silk blouse. She locked eyes with Josh, but this time the passion that kindled between them was anger, not sexual attraction.
She let a long breath out between her teeth that turned into a hiss. “It’s complicated.”
“And the other texts?” He sank back in his chair and sipped his beer.
“Same exact words, except the last message I received in the bar when you were in the restroom.” She pulled a crumpled napkin from her purse and flattened in out on the table in front of him.
“Clever. He must’ve been the one who bought us the drinks.”
She dropped the phone on top of the cocktail napkin. “My father was a drug dealer. I don’t know anything about weapons.”
“Do you want me to tell you?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“I’m not sure you want to know the truth.”
“Bring it.”
“Your father, and the Los Santos cartel, had started dealing with terrorists out of Afghanistan. In exchange for the product from their poppy fields, he was going to supply them with weapons...and passage into the US.”
Now she did feel sick.
She bent forward, leaning her forehead against the sticky table, her hair falling around her face. “I can’t believe he’d do something like that.”
And then she remembered what he’d done to her and she could believe it.
“Gina? Are you all right?”
Balancing her chin on the table, she peered at him through the curtain of her hair. “Not really. I thought this was all behind me.”
“Can you think of any reason why your father’s associates would be contacting you?”
“Is that who you think it is?” She blew the hair out of her face, as she raised her head.
“That’s a good possibility.”
“Could it be the Feds?” She splayed her hands on the table, wiggling her fingers. “Maybe they’re trying to trap me?”
“I think I would’ve been told, since essentially I’m reporting to the Feds.”
