She returned her attention to the road, watching the miles slip past, the endless flat landscape broken only by an occasional oak or a patch of scattered green shrubs along the interstate. “How do we get Timmy out?”
“Good question. First we need to be sure he’s there. We need intel. Once we have it, we’ll figure how to get him out.”
Her gaze remained on his face, bringing a memory of the way she had looked at him last night, with a concern that hinted at the soft woman inside the tough shell. It made him want to know more about her, made him want to take her again, watch the pleasure bloom on her face when he brought her to climax.
His blood heated and slid straight into his groin. The cold shower he’d taken had done nothing to end the lust dogging him all morning.
“We need a helicopter,” Lissa said, drawing his attention back where it belonged.
His mouth edged up. “Funny you should say that. I’ve been thinking about it since we left the motel. I’ve got a friend, retired from the Laredo Air Force Base, ex–helo pilot named Alex Romero. He owns his own chopper now, does charters, tours of the area, anything to make a buck.”
“Will he fly us into Mexico?”
“We don’t need him to fly us in. We need him to fly us out.”
“What about your car?”
“We’ll buy a junker, leave it down there.” He glanced at the road, a little surprised to see scattered palm trees bending in the warm breeze drifting over the landscape.
“We’re closing in on Cotulla,” Lissa explained. “This is part of the Texas Tropical Trail.”
“It’s humid enough, that’s for sure. Makes you appreciate the air-conditioning.”
A smile touched her pretty lips. “Oh, that’s right—you’re a Colorado boy.”
“Born and raised.”
“Julie says you’re out of the army for good, on your way home.”
“That’s right. I’m headed for Denver. I’ve got a grandmother there, the woman who raised me. I’m going home, but not until we get Timmy back.”
“I’m not going home without him, either. I’m not quitting until he’s back with his mother.”
Colt flicked her a sideways glance. “Julie’s lucky to have you for a friend.”
She smiled. “I’m lucky to have her, too.”
Colt had been fortunate to have Liam’s friendship. Now he had Julie, Megan, and Timmy. They thought of him as family, same way he thought of them. Aside from Gran, maybe they were all he’d ever have. The thought, slamming into him from out of nowhere, was oddly disturbing. For years, the army had been his home. Now it was as if he needed a compass, or maybe a rudder, to steer him.
He wasn’t the marrying kind, he reminded himself. But the truth was, he had just never met the right person. He was hard-edged, cynical, and tough. He’d never met a woman who could handle him. His gaze traveled to the lady in the seat beside him, but he blocked the thought before it had time to surface.
Instead, he steered the conversation back to the problem at hand. “When we get to Laredo, we’ll talk to my friend Alex, make arrangements with him to pick us up in Monterrey. We can also buy a car to drive across the border.”
“Whatever it costs, I’m in for half,” Lissa said.
“Believe it or not, I’m pretty well-set. Didn’t have much to spend money on while I was in the army. Sent a little to Gran but she didn’t really need it. Invested the rest of what I saved, made it grow a little.”
“That’s what I try to do.”
He nodded. He wasn’t rich, but he wasn’t poor, either. And whatever it cost to retrieve the boy was worth it.
Less than an hour later, after a phone call to Alex, Colt drove up in front of Romero Aeromotive in Laredo, a small, private and corporate aircraft terminal. He punched in the code Alex had given him and a gate slid back, opening a portion of the chain-link fence surrounding the property.
Colt drove through the gate and continued across the asphalt to a blue metal hangar with an office on one side. He turned off the engine, and both of them climbed out of the Mustang.
The damp heat hit him. The asphalt felt soft under the soles of his low-topped leather boots. He liked Texas, but he wasn’t crazy about the weather.
A good-looking Hispanic man sauntered out of the office to greet them, about five-eight, thick black hair, linebacker shoulders, and the thighs of a weightlifter.
“Colt! My friend, it’s good to see you!” They embraced and leaned in to bump shoulders.
“Good to see you, too. Alejandro Romero, meet Lissa Blayne.”
She stuck out her hand, and in typical Alex fashion, he clasped it tight and engulfed it in both of his. The guy was a charmer, always had been. Colt usually found it amusing. Today, when Lissa flashed Alex a wide white smile, Colt felt a trickle of irritation. Since he wasn’t the jealous type, he forced himself to ignore it.
“It’s good to meet you, Lissa,” Alex said. His voice was smooth, with a trace of a Spanish accent. “Come inside out of the heat and we’ll figure all of this out.”
They walked into a cluttered office, over to a metal desk with a computer on top, a wheeled chair on one side and two metal chairs upholstered in blue vinyl on the other. A bulletin board loaded with newspaper clippings about the air force base hung on the wall, along with framed pictures of Alex’s blue-and-silver chopper, an Airbus EC 120.
“You want a beer or something?” Alex asked.
“No, thanks,” Lissa said.
“Maybe later,” said Colt, keeping his options open. For the next few minutes, he filled Alex in on the missing boy, his father, Ray Spearman, and the compound El Puñal owned in Monterrey.
“You need more than just a helicopter, my friends,” Alex said. “You need information. We’ll fly down together, stay till we get what we need. I have family in Monterrey. And I know people
