“Okay,” Ashford leaned back in the easy chair across the table from them, “I think we have some catching up to do, Cruz.”
She chuckled, “That we do,” before wavering. “Look, Ash,” Cruz crossed her legs and pushed her t-shirt hem over her knees, “if I know anything about Jessica, it’s that her loved ones mean everything to her.”
Ashford nodded.
“She wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize their safety. And, in this case, that means keeping you in the dark about,” Cruz rolled her head, “whatever’s going on down in Mexico.”
Hardy grabbed his cell. “Without more details, I’m afraid all we can do is help you,” he pointed his chin at Father Mahoney, “protect your family. That being said, I’ll still place a call to Jameson. He’s higher up the food chain. Maybe he knows something we don’t...or can ask questions of people that we can’t question.”
“It seems,” Mahoney put his cup on the table, “you people have some work to do. So,” he rose from his chair, “I think I’ll take this opportunity to excuse myself...and try to get some shuteye.”
Cruz stood. “I’ll show you your room, Father.”
“Actually, if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to sleep on the floor at the foot of my granddaughter’s bed. I brought my sleeping bag.”
Head down, Hardy thumbed his cell phone. “Just like a good shepherd would do.”
Cruz, Ashford, and Mahoney fell silent.
After several seconds of hearing only the ticking sound of a nearby clock’s second hand, Hardy looked up and saw everyone staring at him. “You know,” his gaze went from one person to the next, “like in biblical times...when the shepherd would literally lie across the opening to the sheep pen. Any predator that wanted to harm his flock would have to go through him.” He motioned toward the religious man. “Am I right, Martin?”
Hearing his first name being spoken aloud, Mahoney smiled at Hardy. “You and I are going to get along just fine, young man. And, yes...you are right.” He raised a hand. “Good night, all.” The man picked up his sleeping bag and suitcase and ascended the staircase to a chorus of well wishes.
Cruz pointed at Ashford’s duffel bag. “Grab your stuff.” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “You’ll be sleeping in the room next to Cassie’s.”
“Wait a minute.” Ashford snagged the hand she was motioning with, her left hand. He frowned at the appendage before peering at her. “We just saw each other...what...two months ago?” Hardy, Cruz, Ashford, and Devlin had met for drinks at a restaurant. The occasion had marked Hardy’s introduction to the latter couple.
Ashford lowered his gaze to a piece of jewelry on Cruz’s finger. “And that wasn’t there.”
The trio exchanged glances, two of the three grinning from ear to ear.
Ashford shot out a puff of air. “I stand corrected, Cruz.” He let go of her hand. “You and I have a lot of catching up to do.”
∞=∞=∞=∞=∞=∞=∞
.
Chapter 21
Nightmare
3 may—2:49 a.m.
mexican highway 2
southwest of
san antonio, texas
“Not without Hawk.”
“We’ll be cut to pieces.”
“I’m going for him.”
Hawkins caught her eye.
She regarded him.
Shaking his head at her, he pressed his back against the SUV, made a face, and pushed himself upward.
The cacophony stopped.
Staring at Devlin, Hawkins nodded once. “Tell her I love her, Dev.” He whirled around.
“Hawk!”
Devlin jolted forward in the seat. “Hawk!” Breathless and perspiring, she batted her eyes before rubbing them with a thumb and forefinger. She glanced around the GTO’s interior, her mind still showing her flashes of the shootout. After raising the seat’s backrest, she threaded fingers through her hair, pushing locks away from her face.
“Are you okay?”
She eyed the driver. “Just a bad dream—nightmare, actually.”
Randall nodded while shooting downward peeks at his forearm. “I can tell.”
Her gaze dropped to her left hand. She still had a crushing hold on his right limb. She let go. The moonlight reflected off the white hand imprint on his skin. “Sorry.”
“No problem...kept me from falling asleep at the wheel.”
She caught her breath. “What time is it?”
“Almost three.”
“What? You were supposed to wake me at two.”
Since leaving San Fernando, Randall had raised the convertible’s top, and the muscle car’s occupants had taken turns driving, so they could get some sleep. During the times when both had been awake, the mood in the vehicle had been somber. Neither person had spoken a word. The only sounds had been the engine groaning and the wind racing by the Pontiac.
“You were out cold. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Anyway, the couple of hours I got earlier were plenty.”
“Where are we?”
Randall gawked at the GPS map on the cell phone from Steele. “Not far from the coordinates Steely gave us.”
Yawning, Devlin shifted her position, crossed arms over her chest, and rolled her head over the headrest, away from Randall.
He peeped at her a few times, washed a hand down his face, and squirmed in the seat. “Hey, I’m truly sorry for the trouble I’ve caused you and your family. I...I never thought the plan to find the mole in the Marshals Service would go this far...or lead to the deaths of good people. From the depths of my soul, I just wanted to apologize.”
Devlin turned toward him and studied the side of his face for nearly ten seconds.
His eyes jittered back and forth between her and the road ahead. Feeling the heat from her stare, he gripped the wheel tighter. Say something, will you? Anything, except this awk—
“It’s not your fault.” She looked away. “You were doing the job your superiors ordered you to do.” She envisioned her right cross connecting with his chin. “As long as we’re doling out apologies, I think I owe you one as well.”
He made a face. “You do?”
She came back to him. “How’s the jaw?”
“Ah,” he bobbed his head up and down before stroking his left cheek. “Don’t worry about it. I probably had it coming.”
“I wasn’t in a good place at the time.”
He waved a hand in the space between them. “I get it. It’s fine. In your shoes,
