Cold Day In Hell (12 page)

His eyebrows dipped as he frowned. "I'll look into it. You deserve to know what's going on with Ortega."

She nodded. "Thank you. I contacted the FBI, but they aren't very responsive."

He understood. "They're not into sharing."

Movement caught her attention. Holly had moved and was sitting on the bench. Waiting. She and Ty had history. Exactly what, Ana didn't have a clue. But the joyous reunion appeared to have been sincere, and Holly probably wanted to catch up.

Ana opened her purse, scribbled her cell number on the back of a receipt and handed it to Ty. "Anything you learn and share will be appreciated." She nodded toward Holly. "Go. She's waiting."

Unwilling to get in the way, Ana forced herself to turn away from Ty. Holly had been kind, befriending Ana without question. No way was she intruding.

A strong hand gripped her shoulder from behind. "You're not leaving."

It was a command not a question. A command something deep inside wanted to obey.

"I have plans," she lied.

His hand dropped to his side. Before he saw through her deception, she waved at Holly, and hurriedly walked to the car. She drove out of the lot without checking her rearview mirror. Too many emotions were churning through her. Her insides felt as if she'd been caught in a whirlpool. She understood none of it.

Along with being close friends of the owners of Lost and Found, Inc., Holly had been good to Ana. So had Kay Wolfe, who'd met Ana and Jack Fury at baggage claim the day they'd arrived. Kay and her husband had signed on as Ana's sponsors, making the transition easier.

No way would she let a little hero worship hurt the few people in the US who'd been kind to her. The sexual pull she felt for Ty was just hormones made worse by loneliness. She'd pushed him out of her mind once and could do it again.

Confused by Ty showing up at the library and her internal reaction to him, she parked outside her apartment and released the seat belt. The driver's side door jerked open.

Ana looked into eyes filled with hate.

Carlo Medina sank his fingers into her hair and dragged her from the car onto the ground. Her head hit the hard pavement, and rockets exploded inside her skull. Her mind froze for a split second before a blast of adrenaline roared through her system. Every ounce of training she'd received in self-defense classes kicked in.

First rule? Scream. So she did. Loudly and continually, while she fought to stay conscious.

The sun glinted off the blade of a knife.

"
Puta. Uno se muere hoy
," he growled.

No. She didn't intend to die today. A horn honked. Over and over. Over the racket, a woman's voice yelled something about calling the cops.

Medina's attention shifted, and Ana seized the opportunity. She pushed with all her strength. He stumbled and fell. The knife hit the pavement and slid under a parked car. He scrambled to his feet, slammed the toe of his shoe into her ribs, and grabbed for her hair.

"The cops are here," a woman screamed.

Carlo raised his head to look, and Ana kicked straight out. The blow didn't seem to bother him, but he turned and ran.

She stood, stumbled into the driveway in time to see him drive away in a black SUV. Ana clung to the side of her car, trying to steady herself and gather her thoughts. Something warm ran down the back of her head. A finger test confirmed her suspicion. Blood.

The horn silenced. A woman got out of a car and ran to Ana.

"Let me look at you." The stranger frowned as she inspected the injuries. "Hang on." She hurried to her car and returned with an infant in one arm and two diapers in her hand.

"Where are the police?"

"I lied," the woman said. "They'll be along soon. In the meantime, hold this on your head while I wrap this one around your arm."

"My arm?" Ana hadn't realized her elbow was bleeding. "Thank you for helping. You saved my life." Ana moved to the stairway and eased down to the first step. The percussion band marching in her head dwarfed the throbbing in her arm.

"Muggings in this area are unusual." The woman shifted the curly blonde baby to the other hip. "I'm Claire Bingham. Apartment 1216. I called 911. The cops and an ambulance should be here in two shakes."

Ana battled back tears as fear lashed through her veins. The harder her heart pounded, the more her head and arm throbbed.

This was no mugging. Manuel Ortega wanted revenge bad enough to send a killer to America. That Carlo Medina had come himself meant the target on her forehead would remain until her death.

What should she say to the police? In her home country, more than a few officers were on Ortega's payroll. Who could she trust?

She wished for Ty. Wanted his strength. Needed his support. Instead, she decided to call Kay Wolfe. Maybe Lost and Found, Inc. helped people disappear.

A tear broke before she could pull it back. Again, she'd have to run as if she were the criminal. What kind of life would she have living in constant fear?

She started to stand, but Claire's hand stopped her. "You're better off staying put."

"I need my phone from my purse."

"I'll get it." Claire laughed. "I'd lend you mine, but the 911 operator said not to hang up, so I left it on the seat."

Sirens blared in the background. Ana's vision narrowed. Kind of like she'd entered a foggy tunnel. She took her phone and pushed Kay's number. Despair gripped Ana, taking the will to fight out of her. She didn't have the strength to talk.

Handing the cell to Claire, Ana asked, "Will you tell her where they're going to take me? Please."

****

Ana's heart did that funny clench when she heard the argument outside her cubbyhole in the ER. She'd been poked and prodded, stitched and X-rayed. She'd have a new scar, courtesy of Ortega. She hadn't known what to say when the police had questioned her. Feigning confusion, she'd put off talking until Kay had arrived. She'd filled out the paperwork giving the barest of facts, and the two cops seemed to have accepted her mugging story.

The debate continued over Ty's admittance to see her. His tone dropped to that low octave he used when angry, but Kay's voice remained steady and calm. Ana's blood pumped faster at the sound of his concern, which made her headache worse. Still, he'd come and that meant a lot.

"Let's make sure the doctors are finished first," Kay insisted. "You can wait your turn."

Kay sounded as if she spoke to a petulant child, but Ana hoped he'd insist. She had to tell him the truth. Right or wrong, they had lied to the cops, and it was too late to change the story now.

"The hell you say. I'll push back every curtain until I find her."

Shoe heels clicked on the tile floor and got louder as the dispute drew closer. Ty walked in, followed by Kay.

"Sorry. I probably shouldn't have called him." Kay's apology sounded sincere, but her grin hinted otherwise. "He insisted on seeing you."

"Damn right I did." He crossed the room and leaned over the bed. His hand rested on hers. "You're okay?"

"Slight concussion. Another scar for this arm."

Ana motioned Ty to come closer. A frisson of fear raced across her skin at what she was about to say. Memories of her parents' deaths and her stabbing drew tears to the surface. She willed them away. Today's assault meant she had to leave. Hide. Again.

"Carlo Medina attacked me."

Ty's gaze turned cold. His grip on her hand tightened. "You're positive?"

Ana nodded. "Carlo told me I would die today."

A nerve in Ty's jaw twitched. His dark eyes closed for a second. When they opened, the pain in them cut right through her. "The son of a bitch must have been watching me. I led him to you."

"It's possible." Kay rested her hand on Ana's leg.

"What did the police say?" Ty asked.

"Nothing," Kay answered. "We let them believe it was a mugging."

Ana saw the puzzled look on Ty's face. "I asked Kay not to tell them about Carlo." Ty's puzzlement turned into a frown, so Ana continued. "I don't know that they can be trusted. In my country, talking to any official could be dangerous."

Ty's head moved forward in a slight nod, agreeing with their decision. Guilt clouded his gaze. Could she get him to help her now?   

"We have to move you right away." Ty raised his gaze to meet Kay's.

Kay nodded. "He's right."

Reality crashed in around Ana. The throbbing in her head worsened. She should've known she'd spend the rest of her life in hiding. Jumping at shadows. Moving from place to place. Afraid to leave her apartment.

"Where would I go? Carlo knows where you live and probably every place you've been. I'll bet he knows you're here."

"We'll take you to a safe house. You'll be okay." Ty sounded convincing. His eyes disagreed. "Will Marcus be home tomorrow?"

Kay pulled her phone from her pocket and scrolled through. "In the morning."

"He can protect Ana while I hunt for Carlo. But first, call Nate. He needs to contact his friend with the feds. Dalton can provide me with a secure place to take Ana."

"I'll call Nate right now."

 "While you're at it, the FBI needs to be told Carlo Medina is in the country. No doubt they or the DEA would like to get their hands on him." Ty's gaze narrowed to slits. "If I find him first, they can have what's left after I'm finished."

Kay started toward the exit, her phone already to her ear.

Up until now, Ana had kept her comments to herself. If he thought she intended to sit around and hide behind a bodyguard, he was wrong. "I'm not hiding somewhere until you catch him. I told you I'm trained in military tactics. I want to help."

"This is my fault." Ty leaned over her, his mouth inches from hers. "And I'll fix it."

He still didn't get it. She had to persuade him to help her.

If she failed, she'd return to Colombia alone.

Chapter Ten

Ty crossed the lawn, stopping just off the porch of the safe house. Isolated at the end of a narrow winding road, the cabin offered solitude and the ability to monitor the exterior and spot intruders. The place was solid, homey, and defensible. 

Ty dragged a hand over his head. If he'd had hair, he'd have ripped it out by the roots. His gut knotted. Everyone would have been better off if he'd honored Ana's original request and helped her kill that bastard Ortega.

How many people would die because her pleas had fallen on deaf ears? Guilt for the deaths of Santiago and his people weighed heavily on Ty's shoulders. They had provided shelter, a little food, and a lot of kindness. That kindness had cost them their lives. The villagers' only sin had been to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Even if it meant he had to return to Colombia and finish the job, no one would harm Ana. His responsibility for her would not be over until she was truly safe. On salary or not, this was business, and that saddened and pissed him off.

"You coming in or you gonna wander around like a rabid hound dog?"

Startled, Ty reached for the Beretta on his hip. Odd how after six weeks, strapping on the holster and sliding his pistol home felt like he'd run into an old friend.

"Sneaking up on me could get you killed." That he'd allowed Nate to come outside and sit on the steps unnoticed infuriated Ty. Getting caught unaware was a sign of carelessness, and his lack of focus added embarrassment to his anger, which added fuel to the already raging fire in his belly.

"Hell, I could die of old age waiting to hear what you'd learned, so I came outside to ask." Nate had one of his chicken-shit grins plastered on his face. "I take it by your irritable behavior you came up empty."

"Smart man. I guess that's why you're the boss," Ty joked, relaxing for the first time today. "Canvassing Ana's neighbors was a waste of time. I'd hoped Claire Bingham had noticed Carlo's license plate number, but she had been too busy drawing his attention from Ana."

"Too bad. I'd bet money he's driving a rental. I'd like to know how long the bastard has been on American soil."

"I should've helped her kill Ortega. A rival cartel would've taken over and nobody would give a damn about her."

"You don't know that."

"I know this. Ana was my responsibility. Mine to save or lose. And she's smack in the crosshairs of a lunatic. Looks like my job is not over."

"When I contacted the FBI, Dalton said Jack Fury's been assigned to the Dallas office. We're to call on him if we need help."

"Then call—"

"He's already on his way."

"Marcus?" He'd had some kind of complication closing his case. Ty thought he might need him for backup.

"He's home. Give him time to shower then he'll contact you."

Ty wasn't against having outside help. Hell, he'd welcome some. Fury and the FBI could pull strings quicker than anyone at the Lost and Found office. But Marcus would give Ty breathing room.

"How's Ana?" He'd held off asking as long as he could. No use risking another lecture. But something deep inside ached that she'd been attacked.

"Resting. Her headache's much better." Nate slung a leg over his Harley. "Go check on her. I'm going home."

Trying to talk over the roar of the motorcycle was a waste of time. Ty walked to the porch, paused, and saluted. Nate smiled and was gone.

Dog-ass tired and disgusted, Ty shook the thick cobwebs from his head and decided a pot of coffee was in order. He had watch tonight, so he had to be on his toes. He'd rest when Carlo's dead body was carted off to the medical examiner's office.

Ty opened the door and stepped inside. The stillness couldn't have been louder. Ana wasn't in the living room or kitchen. His panic was fleeting. Of course, she was resting. Moving quietly, he walked down the narrow hall to the second of the two bedrooms. Her room.

No Ana.

His heart rate spiked. Shit. No way had he picked up a tail, and Nate was too perceptive to have led anyone to the safe house.

Maybe she'd stretched out in the lounge chair on the back porch. Again, no Ana.

"Ana," he called out. He waited a beat and said her name louder.