Abducted: Reconnaissance Team (Texas Rangers: Special Ops Book 1) (13 page)

“What?” she blurted.

“Hear me out, Liz. It's not straight forward.” 

“You think I should go back?” 

He shook his head. “No.” 

“What do you think?”  

“I probably will go back.” 

She drew a sharp breath. “You'll end up dead.” 

“Not if we handle things right.” 

Liz felt lightheaded. “Even if that maniac doesn't get you, you’ll never survive in a Mexican jail.” 

His brows drew down. “You don’t think much of my ability to take care of myself.” 

She stared. “You're insane. You'll probably end up dead, yet all you can do is defend your manhood.” 

“You're cutting me to the quick here.” 

Unexpected tears threatened to spill. “This isn't funny.” 

He laughed, “Liz, honey, you have me all wrong.” 

She shook her head, suddenly feeling a strange surge of hysteria. “I don't have you wrong at all.” A tear slid down her cheek and she was shocked to realize she was crying.

“Liz.” Ben dropped the reins and grasped her shoulders.

She blinked through the tears and resisted when he pulled her against his chest.

“Don’t cry, honey. It'll be okay.”

She wanted to stop crying, wanted to tell him he wasn't going back to Mexico while telling him to go to hell. Instead, she blubbered into his shirt.

“You can't stay in protective custody forever,” he said. “Although, if I’m the officer protecting you, that idea isn’t all bad.” 

Liz could imagine his idea of 'protection' and felt certain she was getting a taste of it right now. She hadn't been wrong. His arms made her feel safe, and that only meant she wasn't safe at all. 

“You're tying me in knots, Liz.” 

“What?” she hiccupped.

“I'm going to break the rules,” he said. “Fraternizing with a witness is a big no-no.” 

“I have no intention of allowing you to fraternize.” She intended to break free of his hold, but froze when he put a finger beneath her chin and tipped her face upward.

He wrapped his other arm around her waist. “You weren't supposed to be a witness.” He drew her so close she was forced to lean her head back in order to see his face. 

Her mind muddled. “I-I didn't mean to be.” 

A corner of his mouth twitched. “I think you couldn't help yourself.” 

“Hey, wait a minute—” 

“Birds of a feather,” he murmured, and pushed her hat from her head. It hit the ground as his mouth reached hers. 

Liz drew a breath, and caught the scent of…masculinity, as their lips touched. The tremor in her stomach exploded. Her knees weakened and she grasped his arms for support. Beneath her fingers, steely muscle strained against the fabric of his shirt. Ben slipped a thigh between her legs and her mind whirled at the pressure of his erection, hard and demanding, against her abdomen. She gasped and his tongue slipped past her lips. Her nipples responded by stiffening to hard peaks through the soft cup of her bra. He groaned and swept his tongue across hers. Her tongue thrust back before she realized the response. Ben's arm tightened around her waist.

A beat thrummed in her head in unison with the ache between her legs. Liz told herself to pull away, but her body didn't follow the command. She whimpered. He growled back. She slid a hand up his arm, around his neck, and fisted his hair. The thick, soft hair between her fingers was a strange aphrodisiac that turned her insides to jelly. His kiss grew fierce, then his mouth slid down her jaw and along her neck— He abruptly broke off and yanked her head against his chest. The gallop of his heart made her head spin.

“Another minute and I'd have to touch you,” he said in a hoarse voice that bled with desire.

Liz's mind snapped to attention. And she would have let him. She couldn’t remember having responded to a man with such intensity—or the last time a man had responded to her with such passion. Had to be his age. She'd simply forgotten how quickly men his age could
respond
to a woman. This, she realized with an unexpected panic, was dangerous territory.

Ben released her and for an instant she thought she would fall to her backside. Liz remained frozen as he bent and picked up her hat.

He placed the hat on her head, then gave her a lopsided smile. “In my defense, I have been waiting three days.” He grinned. “A lifetime when you want something.” 

“What?” 

“You don't think this attraction started last night?” He laughed. “When I met you at the photo shoot three days ago I decided I'd come after you once the job was over.” 

“Come after me?” she repeated.

“Yep.” 

Butterflies skimmed the insides of her stomach. “That's silly,” she said. “I would have left El Paso today.” 

“I did say that Dallas isn't that far away,” he said.

Liz snorted. “Easy to say when I’m standing here.” She shook her head. “You're still fraternizing. You said you weren't supposed to do that.” 

His gaze remained fixed on hers. “You said you wouldn't let me.” 

“And I shouldn’t have—just as you shouldn't have—” 

“Tempted you?” he finished the sentence.

“Caught me off guard,” she corrected.

Ben laughed. “Liz, I doubt you've ever been caught off guard.” 

He was so wrong. He had caught her off guard last night at the party, then in Mexico…and here in a field of poppies. She'd lost her balance the moment she laid eyes on him at the gala. She had to get a grip on the situation—which meant getting a grip on herself.

“You're only proving my point, Ben.” 

“How's that?” he said.

“Your youth is showing in your inability to remain professional.” 

He laughed again, hard this time, and without rancor. “You tell yourself that, honey. Then show me a man of any age who would keep his hands off you.” 

She narrowed her eyes. “Mr. Hunter, I won't deny I find you attractive.” 

“You can't deny it,” he said.

“It's rude to keep interrupting.” 

He canted his head. “You're right, Ms. Monahan. I apologize.” 

Liz shook her head. “You can't expect me to take this seriously.” 

He caught their horses' reins and handed her hers. “You will.” 

They reached within sight of the ranch when Ben's phone rang. At least whoever called had the good timing to wait until after he had filled Liz in on what he knew about the plan to return to Mexico. He hadn't liked the shock on her face when he described the charges against them in Juarez had been bumped up to accessory to murder, but he hadn't been surprised. She would be a fool not to take the situation seriously, and Liz Monahan was no fool.

She'd recovered enough to say she wasn't agreeing to anything the FBI proposed until she'd spoken with her lawyer. That was smart, but Ben suspected her insistence had as much to do with wanting to learn how bad things really were as showing good sense. Liz thought that if she didn't go back, maybe that would stop him from going. He didn’t have that option. And he didn't want her anywhere near Mexico.

The only reason he hadn't sent her packing out of El Paso was because he didn't know anyone he trusted to watch her. Even the Rangers in Dallas weren’t able to keep tabs on her 24/7. He had to tuck her away somewhere safe, and the ranch was the safest place. A few days was all he needed to get to Mexico and catch Sanchez. But it wasn’t that simple, was it? Liz was right. Even from prison the human traffics dealer could order a hit on them. Anger rocketed through Ben. The only way Liz would be safe was if Sanchez died.

“Ben.” 

Liz's sharp tone yanked him from his thoughts.

“Aren't you going to answer your phone?” 

The phone gave another shrill ring. “Got lost in thought,” he said.

She gave him a penetrating look that said she knew exactly what he'd been thinking.

Ben pulled the phone from his jeans pocket. “You'd think they knew I just came within range.” 

“It's tough being popular,” she said in a dry tone.

He looked at the display and didn't recognize the number. Only close friends, family, and work had his cell number. Ben flipped open the phone. “Hello?”  

“Good evening, Mr. Hunter,” came Mrs. Remmey's greeting.

Ben heard the strain in her voice and pulled his horse to a stop. “Sanchez contacted you, didn’t he?” Ben caught the startled glance Liz sent his way.

“Yes,” Mrs. Remmey answered.

“May I ask where you're calling from? I don't recognize this number.” 

“My husband’s downtown office.” 

Ben nodded toward the ranch and mouthed ‘
Go’
to Liz. She shook her head and he gave her a narrow-eyed warning that said ‘do as I say.’ She only raised her brows.

“I see,” he said into the phone. “Very secure, I take it, and maybe not monitored by the FBI?” When Ben filed his report, he let the Remmey’s know the FBI would be contacting them about their granddaughter—and Sanchez.

“Certainly more secure and
private
than the phone in our home,” she replied.

“What did Sanchez say?” Ben asked.

“He wants to know where Ms. Monahan is staying. As arranged, we gave him the name of the hotel. He knew she visited me earlier today.” 

So Sanchez had someone watching the Remmey’s as Ben suspected he would. “Mrs. Remmey, is it possible he has a mole on your staff?”  

“I would like to say no, but we both know that's not realistic.” 

“Is there anyone in particular you would suspect?” Ben asked.

“There are those I can say with certainty would not, but I suspect no one. Yet, everyone has a price.” 

“I'm very sorry,” Ben said.

“Don't be sorry, Mr. Hunter. Just get my granddaughter back.” Before he could say that was exactly what he intended to do, she added, “He wants to know who you are. He made a point of mentioning that you were on the news today.”

So the video hadn't yet given Sanchez Ben's identity. “Do you think he's fishing or does he have some way of knowing that you colluded with me?” Ben asked.

“He knows you’re a law enforcement officer, but Francis believes he doesn’t know what agency you’re with. He demanded to know who referred you to us. Our quick plan last night did not prepare us for this.” 

Ben’s gut twisted. The Feds were right. He’d screwed up this operation, but good.

“So Francis improvised,” she said.

Ben startled and his horse shifted in reaction. Ben tightened his hold on the reins.

“Francis said his contact was Mr. Soto, and explained that he used Mr. Soto to buy drugs for clients. Francis told Mr. Sanchez that he hadn’t wanted to admit to the association, so made up the story about a government contact.” 

Ben recalled Sanchez’s belief that Francis Remmey was hiding a connection with Soto. “Mrs. Remmey, you couldn’t have done any better if we’d planned it.” 

“I certainly hope you’re right because he threatened to kill Christina after—” her voice broke “—after he passed her around to his men.”

Anger whipped through Ben. Sanchez would make good on his threat, even if the Remmeys complied with every demand he made. Men like Sanchez didn’t give second chances, even for honest mistakes.

“He let us speak with her.”  

Ben jarred. Had he heard correctly? “You spoke with her?” 

“Yes… Mr. Hunter, she’s so frightened. The men, they look at her and…she’s only fifteen,” Larissa ended in a whisper.

Ben jumped when warm fingers touched his fist. He swung his gaze up to Liz’s face. She gave his hand a squeeze, then released him, and his mind centered back to Mrs. Remmey. “Sanchez made sure she was good and scared by the time she talked to you,” he said

“I believe so.” 

“But no one has hurt her yet?”  he asked.

“No.” 

“Mrs. Remmey, your granddaughter is alive
and
well. As long as she’s with Sanchez and he needs you, she’ll not be harmed or sold. Keep that in mind.” 

“Yes,” Larissa said as if just understanding. “If he’s with Christina, that means he’s probably not in El Paso. But that only makes finding her harder.” 

“No,” Ben corrected. “Knowing she’s near Sanchez is better than having no idea where she is at all. This is a step forward. I assume the FBI knows everything you told me?” 

“Yes, I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be. This is their job and they’re good at it.” If Masters and Braxton weren’t in charge of the kidnapping, that is, and Ben was sure they weren’t.

Larissa gave a laugh, small though it was, and Ben was glad.

“I thought you didn’t like them,” she said.

“We’re not bosom buddies,” he admitted. “But they will do everything possible to bring her back safely. We have a better chance of saving her if we work together.” 

“They said nothing about informing you of this latest development,” she said.

“I imagine not. I’m low man on the totem pole. They’ll fill Captain Medina in on the details. Now tell me where you left things with Sanchez.”  

“We received a second phone call from him ten minutes after his first call. He knows Ms. Monahan isn’t at the hotel and wants to know where she is—of course, you are his top priority. He wants to know who you really are.” 

“Does that mean he wants you to speak with Juan Soto?” 

“No. He said to leave Soto to him.” 

“Larissa, if Sanchez questions you about Soto, tell him that your husband approached him a week ago, right after Sanchez kidnapped Christina. This is very important. Soto is out of the country, which means Sanchez can’t get in touch with him immediately. That also means you couldn’t have spoken with him recently. Don’t offer any information, but if Sanchez asks, have the answer ready. Tell him that your husband spoke with him immediately after Sanchez kidnapped Christina and Soto said he would send Adam Billings to you. Your husband can say that he didn’t want to say anything until he’d met me.” 

“Speaking of meeting you,” Larissa said, “Mr. Sanchez wanted to know why you were Ms. Monahan’s date.” 

“What did you tell him?” 

“She needed a date, and we believed it was a good way to make your presence at a fashion designer party seem natural.” 

Ben grinned. “Mrs. Remmey, you’re a natural.” 

“I don’t know about that,” she said. “Mr. Sanchez is a persistent man. He has reason to question everything, at this point. I fear Francis and I are no match for him.” 

“You’re not facing him alone,” Ben said. “Do you have any idea where he is? Any clues at all? Any background sounds? Did he say anything about meeting with you?” 

“No.” 

Ben hadn’t thought so. “Remember, he won't harm her as long as he believes you're of use to him.”

“There is one other thing,” Larissa said.

Ben braced himself. What else could there possibly be?

“Sanchez is insisting that we prove our loyalty by beginning with a shipment of women across the border.”

“He can’t be serious,” Ben said. “He’s got to know the cops will be watching every move your husband makes.”

“Yes. He made it perfectly clear that if not for the fact that he needs us to find you, he would have already killed Christina. Here’s the thing, Mr. Hunter, Francis can easily arrange a shipment with another exporter.”

“You mean bring someone else in on the operation?” Ben asked.

“Not exactly. That would be too dangerous. But we can use another exporter’s trucks. The shipment would look like it’s coming from the other exporter, but it would be our goods that are transported. In truth, we’ve known all along we could do this, but we didn’t tell Mr. Sanchez. The last thing we wanted to do was give him another way to use us.”

“But Sanchez finally figured out that angle,” Ben said.

“Yes.” Her voice broke. “How can we possibly doom other girls to the same fate from which we are trying to save Christina? But if we don’t agree…”

“I don’t think you’ll have to send other girls to their doom,” Ben said. “I believe I know how to handle this. Can you give me a few hours?”

“Yes,” she replied. “We are not to call Mr. Sanchez until tomorrow morning.”

“That’ll do,” Ben said, and hoped like hell Medina agreed with Ben’s idea.  

* * *

By the time Ben disconnected the call, a hundred questions swirled through Liz’s head, but she bit her tongue and listened to his summary of Larissa Remmey’s news. There was something he wasn’t telling her, but Liz agreed to wait for answers until after he called headquarters. After dinner, Ben led her into the den. His father excused himself and took R.W. and Hal with him, leaving them alone.

Ben sat on the couch beside her and said, “I'm going to have to leave you here. Officers will be assigned to guard you.” 

She'd expected this. Throughout dinner she'd fought off the memory of his kiss by running through a dozen scenarios, all of which ended with Ben leaving and her hidden here at the ranch. She didn't like what either of those elements implied: that she was a prisoner, and Ben had to risk his life to free her and Christina.  

“What does your father think about my being here?” she asked.

“He's agreed to keep you safely hidden here at the ranch.” 

“He's not worried about the danger to his men?” 

Ben gave an impatient shake of his head. “The boys can handle Sanchez’s goons if they show up.”

“I told Richard that me filling in for Tanya was a bad idea,” she muttered.

That earned her a small smile.

“You're going after Mr. Sanchez, aren't you?” she said.

“It's likely I'll enter Mexico under the guise of facing the charges.” 

What had changed in the last hour? She didn't know Ben Hunter well—she didn't really know him at all—but she wouldn't be surprised to learn that her not going back was his plan, not the FBI's.

“I thought the FBI wanted us both to return,” she said. 

“There's absolutely no doubt Sanchez will come after me in Mexico,” Ben said.

“He won't wonder why you're returning alone?”

“We have someone to play your part.” 

Liz blinked. “Who did you get that can pass for me?” 

His brow furrowed. “You don't worry about it. The only thing you're going to worry about is staying put in this house.” 

She shook her head. “Can't do that.” 

He looked nonplussed, then his expression darkened. “You're going to do it, even if that means I have to hogtie you and—” 

“Whoa, there, cowboy. There will be no hogtying, and no more orders.” 

“Liz—” 

She laid a hand on his arm. “Ben, it's not what you think.” 

He hesitated, clearly torn between making good on his threat and listening. “What is it, then?” he demanded.

“I won't stay here—”

He started to interrupt.

“Hush,” she ordered. “I won't stay here. There’s no need. I can go to another hotel.” 

Ben shook his head. “I’m not leaving you in public without me.” 

Liz couldn’t stop a laugh. “You said I would have protection.” 

“You will. Here at the ranch.” 

“A safe house, then,” she said.