Page 51 of Buck
She brought her chin up a notch and looked him hard in the eye. “My sister, Carmen. She’s just waiting for me.” She moved into his line of sight. “I would like to talk to you about your shipping job at La Buena Tierra. Do you have a moment?”
His eyes slid to the car, and she didn’t like the flash she saw there for her baby sister.
“She’s still in school,” Mari said.
He abruptly let her go, then smirked. His cool eyes held fast on her speculating. “For the boss’s sister. Sure. Come on in.”
Why did that sound eerily like what the spider said to the fly? She chalked it up to her nervousness about working out the particulars to protect Diego and her family.
His living room was immaculate except for a bunch of papers on the coffee table. They looked like they’d been thrown there. “Have a seat,” he said, indicating the couch.
She moved away from him and took a seat. He sat in a chair across from her. “So, what about the shipping?”
“It’s my understanding that you’ve taken over for Mr. Barrantes.”
He shook his head in sorrow. “Poor Mr. Barrantes.” He looked relaxed and yet she had the impression of leashed power beneath his calm facade. Her stomach knotted with tension. “He taught me everything I know.”
“I see and you’ve kept meticulous records? Judging by his home, he was a clean, neat guy.”
“Is there a problem with the records?”
“Not to my knowledge, but Diego was remiss in offering you the manager’s position. You’re doing the work, so you should receive the salary.”
He hadn’t smiled much, so when he did, it was dazzling—a quick grin, a boyishly lopsided curve of white teeth accompanied by a twinkle in his eye. He had those kind of eyes, dark and utterly depthless. “You want to offer me the manager’s position?”
“Yes. We need someone to be responsible for the work.” She cleared her throat. “As you know we’ve had some problems with the cartel, and the DEA and American military are assisting our government in providing us protection.”
“Yeah, Diego explained the situation.”
“Well, they are investigating us—our finances, production, shipping—every aspect of our business.”
He narrowed his eyes, and she blinked, something shifting in him, make a cold shiver trickle down her spine.
“You need a fall guy?”
“What? No.” She stared at him. “Whoever did the work, needs to be responsible for it. Don’t you agree?”
“I took over for him when he disappeared. Your brother didn’t seem interested. But I?—”
His cell phone rang, and he grabbed it. “I’ll be right back.” He moved into the kitchen away from her. Her palms were still sweating, and she really wanted to get away from here. All of a sudden, there was something about this guy that made her want to flee.
She couldn’t hear the conversation, only a low rumble. She looked around the room, her gaze snagging on the papers. It was so strange that everything in the place was so neat except this pile. She leaned forward and blinked a couple of times. The edge of a document peeked from the papers, and she leaned in to get a better view. It looked like a passport…wait…no there were two passports. His?
Unable to help herself, she reached out and lifted the papers, revealing not two but four passports, and her blood froze. All of them had Sanchez’s boyish face on each. All of them held different names. Gabriel Pérez, La Cruz, Costa Rica, Peter Donovan, Miami, Florida, and Marco Bianchi, Venice, Italy. But it was the last passport that made her eyes go wide and her heart pound. Santiago Vega. She knew that name. Everyone knew the name of the alleged Sombre Sindicato’s drug trafficking boss, the notorious SS-1.
She jumped up, hastily covering the passports, and headed for the door at a quick walk. When her hand touched the knob, he emerged from the kitchen. She was breathing hard from the fear that clutched at her heart.
“Where are you—” He looked toward the table and swore softly. She threw the door open and ran for her life. But she didn’t get far. A gunshot boomed behind her. She stopped dead and turned around. Santiago was holding a semiautomatic pistol, but he wasn’t aiming at her. He was aiming at her sister. Carmen’s eyes were wide with terror.
“You and your sister. Back into the house.” She closed her eyes and motioned to Carmen, who got out of the car and started walking toward her. She was visibly shaking. What had Mari gotten them into?
He came up to them, grabbing Carmen who screamed. “Do that again, and I’ll break your jaw.” Carmen burst into tears, but he was unaffected. He shoved them both into the house and forced them onto the couch. He zip-tied their feet and hands, then made a call. He spoke rapidly, and she realized it was to his gang. “No,” he said into the phone, giving her a very cold look.
They had all been getting played, and it was easy to see why with this charismatic monster who hid behind a beautiful mask. Another grin curved his mouth…only this one was pure wolf.
Then she understood why the fine hair stood up on her neck when she’d met him, understood that she had entered the viper’s den—understood much too late. She hadn’t comprehended the shade of darkness in his eyes. He was a deception, and his warmth was a deception. Pure ice ran through his veins and the shadow she felt breathing death down her neck.
“We’re going to be pals for some time. You’re going to tell me everything you know.” For a killer, his voice was very calm, very measured. He continued to hold her gaze, his eyes growing flatter and deader with each passing moment, as if they weren’t worthy of even his lowest contempt. “If not, I’ll kill your sister, slowly. A death unlike you could ever imagine, then I’ll do much worse to you.”