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  “Do you have his number?”

  “I think so, or I can get it.” She glanced at the clock on the wall oven. “Can I call you with that later this afternoon? I need to leave now to pick up Brandon.”

  “Sure thing. I’ll just get my wet clothes and haul me and them out of your way.”

  After stopping at the counter to grab her keys, she followed him to the door. She picked up his soaked shirt while he retrieved his boots and socks. The rain had stopped and the sun had come out. Humidity clotted the air.

  Their fingers touched when she handed him the shirt. She didn’t back away and the moment grew tense.

  “About this morning—”

  “Brandon,” she said, cutting off what would have been a feeble attempt to explain his feelings and reactions when he didn’t totally understand them himself.

  All he knew for certain was that Alonsa had been hurt enough. If he could help it, he wasn’t going to add to the pain. That didn’t make it a damn bit easier to walk away.

  CUTTER PITCHED SOME fresh hay into the barn’s last stall, then hooked a foot on the stall door and stared at the black beauty staring back at him. Reaching the top slat, he scratched the snip of white beneath the soulful eyes.

  Doing routine ranch work and helping his foreman, Aurelio, and his wranglers with the chores was Cutter’s way of relaxing when his mind got too entangled in a case. Or when his vivacious wife threw him a curve he couldn’t handle. That was happening more and more often these days.

  “Okay, Lucy Lu,” he said, bemoaning his concerns to Linney’s favorite horse. “My wife spends more time with you than me, so what do you think is turning her into a water spout these days?

  “Granted, I shouldn’t have joked about making a saddle from her chicken fried steak last night, but that was only after she’d admitted it was indigestible.

  “Cooking’s not her thing. We both know that. Well, she’s got spaghetti and meatballs down to where it’s almost as good as Merlee’s, but get past that and it’s risky.”

  Lucy Lu snorted and threw back her head as if he’d just given her a horse laugh.

  “Not funny, old girl.”

  Who cared if Linney wasn’t a great cook? She was dynamite at everything else she put her mind to. She and Aurelio had whipped the ranch into shape in no time flat. And the old ranch house had been spit and polished to a fair shine. Best of all, it looked and felt like home.

  But then anyplace with Linney would be home. Her kiss made his morning. Her laughter highlighted his day. And crawling into bed beside her every night made life worth living. Always would. She claimed to feel the same way about him.

  “So why all of a sudden turn into a broken water main every time the wind changes direction, Lucy Lu? Answer me that.”

  “You and Lucy Lu got a thing going on?”

  “Just might,” Cutter said, turning toward the barn door and the man standing in it. The fading sun backlit Hawk so that he looked more shadow than flesh and blood. From his stance, Cutter could tell something was weighing him down, too. “You going for a ride?”

  “No. Aurelio said I could find you here. I wanted to check on the status of the case you’ve got coming up for me.”

  “I’m still working the deal,” Cutter said. “Looks like it may be a couple of weeks before we come to an official agreement—if we come to an agreement. Lots of small print to work out when you deal with a government agency. They love regulations. I like to get the job done.”

  “I hear that.”

  “Have you heard anything from Goose about the sketch you gave him?”

  “Not yet,” Hawk admitted. “Hopefully he’ll discover the identity of the mystery woman, but I’m not counting too heavily on it.”

  “Do I detect a trace of uncertainty in your voice?”

  “No uncertainty about the outcome, just the way I’m going to get there.” He paused a mere second.

  “Failure is never an option,” he said, finally smiling and sliding back into the frame of mind that had seen Cutter and him through some hellish assignments as frogmen. They’d always come out with the mission accomplished. Hawk would find out what happened to Lucy.

  Surely Cutter could handle a few overactive tear ducts.

  “How are things with Alonsa?”

  “She’s hanging in there, eager to get her daughter back.”

  “I meant on a personal level.”

  “There is no personal level with us.”

  “Then why do I get the feeling that she’s behind your lousy mood? My guess is you’re falling hard for her.”

  Hawk shoved his hat back an inch or two off his forehead. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Yep. She’s crawling under your skin, all right.”

  “You are obviously watching too many reality dating shows with Linney. And speaking of Linney, she just called and invited me to dinner tonight. Shall I bring the antacid for dessert?”

  “No, I’ve got dozens of bottles hidden in my office. Just don’t say anything like that to Linney. She’s freaky sensitive about things these days.”

  “Really, ’cause she sounded in a great mood on the phone just now.”

  “A good mood? In that case, nice talking to you, pal, but duty calls back at the house.” He looked around for his windbreaker and spotted it dangling from a peg a few stalls between him and the door, which Hawk was still blocking. He grabbed the jacket and scooted past Hawk. “Want some advice?”

  “No, but something tells me the bullet’s heading for me anyway.”

  “Don’t fight it with Alonsa. Once they get inside you, you’re doomed. If you don’t believe me, ask Marcus.” A few steps later Cutter stopped and looked back. “And pray for pasta.”

  CUTTER WAS WRONG. Hawk hadn’t let Alonsa crawl inside him. He’d never let anyone delve into the old wounds, scars and sores that had been festering there for as long as he could remember.

  He liked the fascia that covered little Tommy Taylor a lot better. Liked being Hawk. Liked being the brave navy SEAL people saw him as. Liked the respect that came with all that.

  But the facade was only skin deep. The old wounds still lurked, ready to sink him like the deadly currents that lay hidden beneath the surface of a smooth sea. Let Alonsa crawl inside him and she’d back off faster than a man staring down a live grenade.

  His cell phone dinged once, the signal he’d received a text message. He checked. The message was from Alonsa. Obviously she wasn’t just dying to talk to him again.

  Here’s Mitch Gavin’s cell number…

  Hawk committed the number to memory as he went back to the truck for his pen and notebook. Then he punched in the number and waited for an answer.

  “Yo.”

  “This is Hawk Taylor. I’m looking for Mitch Gavin.”

  “You got him, but I don’t recall ever meeting a Hawk Taylor.”

  “You didn’t. I got your number from Alonsa Salatoya. I’m working with her to find her daughter.”

  “Are you with the FBI?”

  “No. I’m with the Double M Investigation and Protection Service down here in Dobbin, Texas.”

  “So Alonsa finally went private. Couldn’t understand why she didn’t do that months ago. Todd would have. Actually, Todd would have found his daughter himself long before now. But that’s a moot point, isn’t it? How can I help you?”

  “I’m running into a lot of dead ends. I think if I knew a little more about Todd’s private life, I could get past some of them.”

  “I’m sure Alonsa can fill you in on the particulars concerning Todd.”

  Mitch’s voice took on an edge that suggested he didn’t like the idea of squealing on his dead friend. Hawk could understand that, but he couldn’t accept it. “Wives don’t always know everything.”

  “Did Alonsa tell you that?”

  “No, that’s just man to man, if you know what I mean. Besides, if Todd was half the father Alonsa says he was, I don’t think he’d want anything he�
��d done to stand in the way of finding out what happened to his daughter.”

  “You mean find the perverted bastard that killed her, don’t you?”

  “There’s no evidence she’s dead.”

  “It’s been two years. I know Alonsa can’t bear to face it, but the kid’s dead. Either at the hand of some perverted scum that picked her up at the zoo on a deranged whim or taken out by one of the subhuman forms of humanity Todd arrested. Some of those guys have no conscience.”

  “The subhumans in question have been investigated pretty thoroughly,” Hawk said. “So have the perverts. And based on the evidence, I think the crime may have been on a far more personal level. Did Todd have anything going on in his private life that might cause someone to hold a serious grudge against him or Alonsa?”

  “Todd? No way. He was a people person. Made friends of everyone.”

  “Was he having an affair?”

  “Not at the time he was killed. He had been seeing a bimbo he’d met in a club down in SoHo, but they’d broken up a few weeks before that.”

  “Did his lover take the breakup bad?”

  “Are you kidding? She dumped Todd for some TV producer. Best thing that could have happened to him. He decided it was time to grow up and start trying to make a go of his marriage. He was afraid Alonsa was serious that time about taking the kids and moving out.”

  “What about other women in his life?”

  “He wasn’t a hundred percent. He fooled around some, mostly just one-night stands.”

  Any guy fooling around on Alonsa had to be a hundred percent nuts.

  “There was this one woman, pre-Alonsa. She was a real nutcase.”

  “In what way?”

  “Stalked him when he went out with someone else. Called him all hours. You know, fatal attraction stuff.”

  “What happened?”

  “I don’t remember. She fell out of the picture a few years back. Guess she either met someone else to torment or moved away. No, wait, I think she checked in to a mental hospital. Come to think of it, Todd mentioned not too long before he was killed that she’d been in a car crash in New Jersey while high on prescription drugs. At least I think that was the same fruitcake.”

  “What was her name?”

  “Damned if I remember. Michele, maybe. She was super smart, but got fired for some stupid reasons. Cool chick, but crazy.”

  “Did you ever meet her?”

  “No. I was setting up a project in Australia when they were going hot and heavy. I saw a picture of her once. Not gorgeous, but not bad.”

  “Anyone else in his life who was that persistent?”

  “No, but there was one woman who scared him,” Mitch added. “Nothing personal about his connection with her, though.”

  “Who was she?”

  “Some female attorney. He was working a case down in Houston.”

  Hawk’s attention heightened. He poised his pen. “When was this?”

  “Right before Todd was switched to the drug bust detail that got him killed.”

  “Do you know what kind of case it was?”

  “Something about stealing babies and toddlers out of Mexico and selling them to rich Americans who couldn’t pass adoption regulations. Apparently the attorney ran the show, though she didn’t get her hands dirty.”

  “What frightened him about her?”

  “She was a mean friggin’ bitch. One story said she’d ordered the murder of an entire family of some cop in one of the border towns. Three kids and a wife. Shot down like dogs. No proof it traced back to her, of course, but that was the rumor.”

  “Why did they pull Todd off the case?”

  “No idea. But you can bet if they’d left him on the case, he’d have gotten the goods on her and put her away for life. He told her so. Pissed her off big time.”

  “Are you sure he never mentioned a name?”

  “Like I said, Todd never gave out specifics. It wasn’t ethical. You might use a little persuasion and get that name from Craig Dalliers.”

  Friendly persuasion was not Hawk’s weapon of choice.

  “I guess you’ve met Craig,” Mitch said.

  “I’ve talked to him.”

  “Really. How’d that work out for you?”

  “He offered some cooperation.” Apparently not nearly enough. He definitely hadn’t mentioned a black-market baby ring.

  “Craig must hate having another man on the scene. Probably green with jealousy.”

  “You mean because I’m stepping on his toes?”

  “Because you’re a new guy in Alonsa’s life. He and Alonsa used to play footsies between the sheets, but you should probably ask Alonsa about that.”

  “None of my business.”

  “Whatever. Sorry I couldn’t be more help, but you take care. Like I said, Todd put some real mean sons of bitches away. You mess with them, they’re liable to give you an early intro to your maker.”

  “I don’t plan to let that happen.”

  “Neither did Todd. You know there’s no real reason to tell Alonsa about Todd’s infidelities. He loved her in his way.”

  “I’m not here to spread gossip. But I do have a sketch of a woman who might be connected to the abduction. Would you mind taking a look at it and see if you recognize her as someone Todd knew or had any kind of dealings with?”

  “Can you fax it to me? I’m in my car now, but I’ll check it out later.”

  “All I need’s a number.”

  He wrote down that info as Mitch dictated it.

  “I’ll get back to you after I take a look at the sketch. When you see Alonsa again, tell her hello for me.”

  “Will do.”

  The idea of Alonsa having been with Craig in any kind of intimate way planted a rock-hard knot in Hawk’s gut. Not only that, but if Mitch’s accusation was true, then she’d lied about no one having a reason to hold a grudge against her.

  Not that he suspected Craig’s wife of kidnapping Lucy, but if Alonsa had lied about that, who was to say she hadn’t lied about other affairs? The idea galled him to no end. Only why bother lying to him when she was desperate for him to find Lucy?

  For now he’d give Alonsa the benefit of the doubt. In the meantime he’d follow Cutter’s advice and pray for pasta.

  And for the name of a Houston attorney with a black scrap of hell for a heart.

  HAWK’S MIND WAS muddled with complications surrounding the fate of Lucy Salatoya when he walked from his two-bedroom cabin on the ranch to his pickup truck. A brown longhorn stuck its head over the top of a nearby fence and looked at him as if begging for a taste of the grass on his side of the barbwire.

  Forbidden temptation was always sweeter, even to a steer.

  He climbed behind the wheel and reached for his sunglasses. The sun’s swan dive below the horizon could be brutal when you were driving west, even for only the half mile or so that separated his cabin from the main house where Cutter and Linney lived.

  Hawk had moved in shortly after Marcus Abbot had moved out. He liked the feel of the place, rustic, cozy, lots of windows for soaking up the pastoral atmosphere.

  Only place a man breathes free is on a ranch, his dad used to say. Hawk wasn’t sure about that, but he did know ranching got in a man’s blood, the same way being part of a Special Ops team did. Cutter had offered him a sampling of both. Live on the Double M and team up with him and Marcus in the business. The Double M Investigation and Protection Service. No boundaries. No limits. No job too tough.

  The job he’d taken on himself wasn’t too tough. Getting over Alonsa Salatoya might be.

  He slowed as he approached the house. There was an extra car in the driveway. Alonsa’s. Linney’s matchmaking was in full swing.

  Things bucked inside him, like his nerves were shorting out and recharging in random sequence. He doubted Alonsa would be thrilled to see him, but at least there would be no chance for a repeat of the kiss that had started the sensual onslaught this morning.

  He might
just get a few seconds alone with her to find out what kind of past she’d shared with Craig Dalliers. In fact, he was counting on it.

  Chapter Nine

  “I love your spaghetti and meatballs,” Alonsa raved as she licked the last drop of spicy sauce from her lips. “I have to have your recipe.”

  “Did you hear that, loving husband of mine?” Linney cooed. “Alonsa wants my recipe.”

  “Can’t blame her. The meal was magnifico!” He kissed his fingers in Italian fashion to punctuate his praise. “In fact, I think it was so fantastic that you and Alonsa should retire to the porch for coffee while Hawk and I clean up the kitchen. When we’re through, we’ll join you for dessert.”

  “Dessert,” Hawk said. “Now you’re talking.”

  “It’s just lemon pie I picked up at a bakery in Conroe this afternoon,” Linney confessed. “I didn’t want to chance homemade since the last pie I baked we had to drink through a straw.”

  “But it was still delicious,” Cutter said.

  “Oh, you.” She punched him playfully, but it was clear to Alonsa that she was drinking up his flattery. She loved watching their interactions. It was the way life should be between a husband and wife.

  Fun and teasing, touching and caring. And passionate. She was certain that Linney and Cutter shared passion. Linney fairly glowed with it tonight.

  Alonsa and Hawk had added the only tension to the dining room. This morning’s kiss, and the way Hawk had broken off as if he were afraid it was going to contaminate him for life, had changed everything. And it wasn’t as if she’d just thrown herself at him.

  Well, she had, but it was clear he was as turned on as she was until…Until he wasn’t anymore. So explain that.

  “If it’s okay with Alonsa.”

  Her name spoken in Hawk’s voice jerked her back to attention. “I’m sorry. I was thinking of something else. Is what okay with me?”

  “That you and I get a pass from KP chores.”

  She knew this was more of Linney’s matchmaking but it had backfired on her friend this time. Hawk’s only interest in Alonsa was in finding her daughter.