Hailey's Truth (25 page)

She searched for something to say. “I’m sorry,” was the best she could come up with.

Jeremy stepped into the room, a short, older woman following behind. “Dinner is ready, Señor,” she said in very poor English.

“Thank you, Maria.” Donte took Hailey’s hand, led her to a seat, pulled out her chair. “Let’s put business away for tonight. I hope you enjoy lobster.”

“I love seafood.” Hailey still puzzled a bit over Donte’s phone call but smiled as she sat, pushing herself in.

Donte and Jeremy took their seats as Maria brought in three elegantly presented shrimp cocktail.

“Again, Donte, how beautiful.”

An hour later, Hailey dabbed her napkin against her mouth, full and simply charmed by the man sitting across from her. She savored one last bite of moist cake in a rich chocolate sauce before she set her fork down. “That was amazingly delicious. Compliments to your chef.”

Donte sipped his coffee, then chuckled. “My chef will have a mighty head if I compliment him as many times as you’ve raved about him.”

She grinned. “He deserves every good word sent his way.”

The beautiful clock across the room rang out the time with each deep bong. Nine o’clock. She glanced out the window to shore. Austin was surely back by now.

She’d had such a wonderful time learning about Donte’s several charitable organizations, getting to know her brother better through the work he’d been doing for Donte. Jeremy was indeed in good hands. She’d been so proud when Donte told her he saw a bright future ahead for her brother.

A whippy thrill coursed through her system at the anticipation of getting back to Austin, of sharing her happiness with him. She wanted him with a sudden desperation that took her breath away. Movies wouldn’t make the agenda again this evening if she had anything to do with it. Tonight would be the perfect night to surprise him with the little blue number Morgan had bought her for her birthday.

She hugged this moment of happiness to her, excited she would be going home to Austin, thrilled Jeremy worked for a man she could admire.

“I’ve lost you, Hailey.”

Her attention snapped back to Donte and her brother. “Excuse me?”

“You were someplace else, lost in pleasant thoughts.”

She sent her brother a look of apology, reached for Donte’s hand. “I’m sorry. I was just thinking how happy I am. You’re a very good man, Donte, with the work you do, for taking my brother under your wing and giving him a chance to start fresh.” She smiled at Jeremy. “Mom and Daddy would be so proud of you. I’m sorry I had any doubts about you over the last few weeks.”

He met her eyes, then glanced down. “That means a lot, Hailey.”

The door opened to the hallway. The sleek man with the gun at his hip stepped into the room. “Pardon the interruption, Señor, but I must speak with you.”

“Let me say good night to my guests. I will be right with you.”

Jeremy and Donte stood, and Hailey followed suit.

“I’ll walk you to the boat. Desi will be happy to take you back.”

They walked down the stairs to the launch.

“Thank you for coming.” Donte shook Jeremy’s hand.

“Thank you for having us.” Jeremy stepped into the boat.

“I would like to see both you and Mateo first thing in the morning.”

Jeremy nodded and took his seat.

Donte’s warm hand captured hers. “Hailey, I cannot express how much I’ve enjoyed getting to know you.” He kissed her knuckles. “Please tell me you’ll come back again soon.”

She was sure that if she weren’t in love with Austin her pulse would’ve pounded with the feeling of his lips against her skin, but her heart rate proved unaffected as it continued its slow, steady beat. “I would love to. I had such a nice time. The food and company were top-notch.”

“You are simply spectacular. Come back again.”

She nodded as he kept hold of her hand while Desi helped her onto the boat.

“Goodbye.” She smiled.

“Goodbye.”

Austin took his seat in the cab. After an hour-long attempt to gather information on the missing teens, he still had nothing. No one was talking—
no one—
which left him wondering. What was scaring people silent? Or better yet,
who
was scaring people silent?

Usually cash made people chatty, but American twenties, fifties, and even crisp one hundred dollar bills weren’t worth the price of a few words. He did learn the girls were natives of San Miguel, Cozumel’s small island town, but that tidbit came via the news.

And wasn’t it strange that when a picture of the young ladies flashed on screen and their mother’s pleas echoed through the speakers, the bartender turned the TV off? Why wasn’t everyone searching? It was interesting that no one felt compelled to help the distraught local family get their twin daughters back.

The cabbie drove away from the busy, tourist-filled streets, taking Austin further out of town. With each turn, they left more of the hustle and charm of beachside Cozumel behind, entering third world conditions most guests usually didn’t see.

Streetlights were fewer and farther between, until they vanished altogether. Buildings that hadn’t seen fresh paint in years held security bars in their crumbling doors and windows. Junkies leaned or sat against the sad looking structures while prostitutes stood in the blue and red glow of bar lights. The signs encouraged patrons to enjoy hot, ready women along with a shot of tequila.

Frowning, Austin peered out the windows. Had they taken a wrong turn? Did the University really plan to put twelve college kids up in a place like this?

The cabbie took a right, traveling a mile further. Homes began to appear along the sidewalks again. The small, concrete blockhouses were far from luxurious. Security bars still lined windows and doors, but it was a huge improvement. A little paint and a few plants would make this area cleaner and somewhat respectable. The block they’d come from was beyond hope.

The cab turned once more, and came to a stop.

Seriously?

The two-story property was little more than a pile of dilapidated shit. The lamp across the street flickered in a half-hearted attempt to light the buildings around it, throwing the apartment in shadows.

Austin’s instincts hummed as he stared at the darkened house. He was ten minutes late for his meeting. Why wasn’t the landlord here waiting?

Austin unbuttoned his maroon shirt, unfastened the snap over his weapon. Something wasn’t right.

“Will you wait for me?” he asked the cabbie in Spanish. “I’ll compensate you well.”

“No. This is not a safe place. New trouble is brewing. It’s dangerous.”

“What danger?”

The man stayed silent, white-knuckling the steering wheel, staring straight ahead.

There wasn’t any point wasting time on questions he already had answers for. He knew what the new trouble was. The cabbie was smart to keep his mouth shut, but Austin tried once more. “Do you know of the girls who vanished?”

Still no response.

There had to be a connection between the girls’ disappearance and the Zulas. He
knew
there was. What else would bring such fear to an entire island? “Will you drive by again in forty-five minutes? I’ll more than triple your wage if you pick me up.” Everyone had a price.

“I will see what I can do.” The streetlight blinked off, sending their surroundings into darkness.

Austin gave the cabbie an American fifty, a supremely generous payment and tip. “If you’re back in forty-five minutes, there will be another.” The cabbie would make more in forty-five minutes than he did in two weeks.

“I will be here.”

That’s what he thought. “Thank you.” Austin stepped from the car and the cabbie drove off. On full alert, Austin looked around, his instincts screaming that danger lurked close.

He walked to the apartment door, gave it a testing shove. The lock barely held. “Well, Jesus.” He shook his head in disgust as he wandered to a window and yanked on the black security bar. The steel didn’t move. “That’s something, at least.” He tried a couple more. The bars were solid.

As he scanned the area, he realized he and Jackson would have their hands full. He and Ethan had been foolish to take the landlord and site director at their word when they told them the apartment was up to par for their stay.

Austin crouched, shoved his finger in a gaping crack in the disintegrating foundation. His gaze tracked up to the decaying roof. He was starting to wonder if the pictures and diagram he’d received of the interior were even from this residence. Muttering a curse, he stood and turned into the dark alley.

A skitter of unease ran down his spine, warning him to flee. He wanted to turn and go, to get home to Hailey, but he had work to do. There was no way he could allow twelve college kids into this house, into this section of town, if these were to be their accommodations for the next three months.

Austin wiped at the sweat pearling his brow, pausing mid-step at the scurry of sound coming from the large trash pile. His heart bumped against his ribs as he drew his weapon, breathing through his mouth. The stench was unbelievable. He held his gun with both hands, bracing his arms close to his shoulder, ready, scrutinizing the shadows the flickering lights played over the dark.

The clatter came once more.

Austin settled his finger on the trigger as he braced himself against the peeling white paint of the concrete wall. The noise came again as he moved forward, slowly, silently, ready for the trap.

His pulse throbbed in his throat, in his head, as he stopped, all but on top of whoever was there. A mountain of trash bags and construction debris separated him from the other side. Austin lifted his leg, gave the garbage a powerful kick. Black bags and wood planks toppled down with a huge crash. An orange alley cat let out a frightened screech as it ran off in the opposite direction.

“Fucking cat.” Leaning back against the wall, Austin relaxed his grip on the gun and took a deep breath, which he regretted immediately. “Goddamn, this sucks ass,” he muttered. He breathed in again, stood straight, this time alert to the putrid stench of rotting flesh. The smell was unmistakable.

Something was dead and it wasn’t small. Austin pulled the corner of his shirt over his mouth and nose, hardly able to tolerate the wretched odor. He stepped over several of the bags he’d sent tumbling, stopping short and turning away when he found the source. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

Austin brushed his arm over his tearing eyes, struggling not to vomit. Someone had had their head blown off fairly recently, and their remains still sat slumped against the wall, bloated, rotting, partially eaten by rodents and probably that alley cat.

Bracing himself, Austin turned again. “
Fuck
.” The deceased was a man, but he could tell little else from the rapid decomposition. A dirty, beat up duffel bag lay in the corpse’s lap. The victim had probably been homeless.

He had to get out of here, had to get back to the cabana and give Ethan a call—figure out how they should handle his discovery. “Shit.” Stomach shuddering, Austin started through the piles of trash toward the front of the building. He glimpsed at his watch. The cab would be back in twenty minutes, but where was the fucking landlord?

Even as he thought it, his gut told him the owner of the apartment wasn’t on his way and never had been. He’d been in this business too long not to recognize a setup. But who wanted him here, and why?

He didn’t plan to wait around and find out. It was time to get the hell out of here. Trouble waited—somewhere. He wanted to run far and fast.

Austin took a step toward the street as something whizzed by his ear, crumbling the chunk of concrete just to the right of his face. Years of training had him crouching and rolling before it fully registered he was being shot at.

Another bullet pinged off broken cement, this time just centimeters from his shoulder. “Shit.” Austin increased the speed of his roll, no longer worried about the stench of garbage. The trajectory of the bullets came from somewhere above.

Two more bullets winged passed him, barely missing their mark as he scurried to his feet, hurrying around the corner of the building. Austin lost his breath as he collided with a solid wall of muscle and fell backward, dropping his gun.

The hulk of man pulled Austin up by his shirtfront, smirking. “Where you going, punk?”

Without hesitation, Austin slammed his forehead into Hulk’s face, making contact with his nose. The guy loosened his grip on Austin’s shirt as he crumpled forward, blood spurting like a gory fountain.

“You broke my fucking nose!”

Austin plowed his elbow against Hulk’s neck, sending the asshole to the ground. “Yeah, well I knocked you out too.” He whirled for his weapon, ready to make a swift exit.

Another thug in a green skullcap picked it up and pointed Austin’s own Glock at him. “Not a good idea, homie. We came with a warning, but maybe I’ll kill you instead.”

Austin held up his hands at chest level as he scanned the area, looking for something to use as a weapon. “I think I’ll take the warning.”

A humorless smile creased Skullcap’s face. “A smartass.”

“Sometimes.” Spotting a glass bottle out of the corner of his eye, Austin took a step back, bringing his arms up in a defensive posture, as if someone stood behind Skullcap. “No!”

When the man glanced over his shoulder, Austin stooped, grabbed the empty bottle, and swung. Glass shattered as Skullcap dropped the gun and began clawing at his eyes. “I can’t
see
! I can’t see anything!”

Austin stooped down for his gun this time, turning to leave as two men came out of the alley across the street.
What the fuck?

“You wanna play games with us, big boy?” The man in front of Austin menacingly tapped brass knuckles against his palm as he advanced. “Let’s play.”

Austin glanced over his shoulder as the guy in a wife-beater rushed him with a two-inch blade.

Austin whirled, firing his gun. The bullet tore a hole through the man’s palm, knocking the knife from his hand. While the man screamed, Austin bolted down the street.

Brass knuckles took chase. “You’re fucking
dead
.”