Intimate Enemies (8 page)

Unease gnawed at Rio’s gut. He pulled his phone and dialed Sumner’s number. On the third ring, the San Diego Harbor Police detective picked up. “I was just about to call you.”

That wasn’t a good sign. Team members called only to impart crucial information. “Why?”

“Christo.”

Rio’s sixth sense had definitely triggered. “She’s my topic of conversation too. You first.”

“She left me a voice mail about the case. She says the insurance company wants to close out the claim.”

Rio’s mind cranked, trying to put the timeline together and get a glimpse inside the girl’s head. “When did she call?”

“This morning.”

“Bullshit?”

“I think so. I called them today to make sure. The COO assured me everything was on lockdown. Only those with the highest clearance level can get access, and as he tells it, no one has contacted Christo about the yacht. Why were you calling?”

“She’s here.” And this clinic she was building was obviously not the only item on her agenda.

Fuck him to hell and back.

“She’s…there?” Sumner said. “As in Baja?”

“What can you tell me about her?”

“I can tell you she’s a handful. Damn smart and fucking persistent. You can’t answer the woman with the standard, ‘I can’t discuss an open case,’ or ‘We’re waiting for results.’ She questions everything. She follows up on everything. For the last few weeks, she’s started challenging everything and everyone.”

Fucking fantastic.
On the dock, Cassie’s posture softened. She smiled up at Mario. And, not a huge surprise, Mario grinned back.

Not only was she smart, persistent, and challenging. She was charming too. She said something that made Mario laugh, and the belly hanging inches over his belt shook. Rio thought of the way she’d made him laugh on the beach last night. Of how damn good it had felt. Even from a distance, the growing camaraderie between her and Mario showed.

Rio thought to the beach again and wondered if she’d been trying to create camaraderie between himself and her just as she was doing now with Mario.

Had she been using him? Seducing him in the hopes of…what? Getting information? Favors? It wouldn’t be the first time a woman on a job had tried to use him for exactly that. The possibility Cassie had come on to him for that reason and not because she’d been thinking about him the way he’d been dreaming about her all these months turned him inside out.

“And the research she’d collected,” Sumner said. “You should have seen the stacks of documentation she brought in to me—hazards, troubleshooting, recalls on Carter yacht equipment, accident statistics on yachts similar to her mother’s. She even had a folder of newspaper clippings.” Sumner sputtered a dry laugh. “She must have had every damned article ever printed on the explosion—from both American and Mexican papers. She also had hundreds, and I mean
hundreds
, of articles about similar instances on other yachts—some accidents, some murders, some undetermined.”

Sumner’s information hit on that shiver of discomfort in Rio’s gut, and it radiated through his body. He rubbed at the ache in his head and groaned, “Shiiiiit.”

Five

Rio couldn’t hold still behind the Dumpster after Mario wandered back to his work. Cassie continued to stand at the slip, staring at nothing for several minutes. Minutes that seemed to go on forever. She just stood there. Completely still.

Rio did enough moving for both of them. He crossed and uncrossed his arms, stuffed his hands in his pockets, turned in circles, rocked his weight from one foot to the other. He was about ready to walk down there and wring her beautiful neck when she reached up, rubbed her face, and heaved her shoulders in a sigh.

Normally, he would have guessed by her body language that she was hurting. Rio recognized the signs of pain, because he had squelched a fair amount of emotion since the funerals too—guilt, anguish, loneliness. But the lingering doubt about their…thing…on the beach last night made him wonder if he was reading her right.

He thought of their meeting as a
thing
because it sure as hell had been more than a kiss, and he didn’t know what to call it. Maybe foreplay. Because while their hands hadn’t been all over each other, their bodies had been. And by the way she’d encouraged him, he wondered now if they would have ended up in bed if he’d let their kiss go as far as she’d wanted.

And, shit, he couldn’t be thinking like that now. Thoughts of sex with her channeled all his blood to his dick. There was no room for any of the feelings or want or need she brought out. Emotions put him at increased risk in an extremely hazardous environment. Totally unacceptable. Especially now that he had Cassie’s safety to consider, regardless of her agenda or motives.

She finally scuffed a foot at the wooden planks and wandered back toward town. Rio waited for her to disappear, put his game face back on, and headed to the dock. He called to Mario, who scrubbed the weathered wood with a wide push broom two rows over.

The big man’s head lifted, and his gaze locked with Rio’s. “Señor Santana.” He lumbered forward and offered his hand. “Good to see you. What can I do for you?”

Rio shook Mario’s hand and lifted his chin in the direction Cassie had gone. “What did she want?”

A flush bloomed under Mario’s double chin. His fingers closed around the broom’s wooden handle, and he leaned into it. “Nothin’. She just come to visit the slip.”

“You talked for fifteen minutes, Mario. What did she say?”

Mario’s dark brow fell. Anger heated his eyes. Rio had found only two groups of men in town who stood up to him—men who made honor a way of life and men who lived stupid and died young. Mario was the former.

“I no need these problems, hey?” Mario said. “I already answer the
fèdèrales’
questions jus’ like you ask. I no do nothin’ wrong.”

Rio pulled out his wallet, fingered through the cash, and forced the bills into Mario’s hand. “What did she say?”

Mario shoved the bills back at Rio. “I no want your money.”

He put a firm hand over Mario’s and eased it back. “You’ve earned it, Mario. And all I want is information.” He paused, then added, “To keep her safe.”

Mario’s scowl turned skeptical, but he pocketed the cash.

“She ask about Alejandra and Santos.” He lowered his voice as if someone might be listening. “When I saw them last, if I know them well. She want to know who uses the yacht, if they brin’ guests.” He shifted on his feet, wiped his damp brow with the back of his hand, and looked down at the dock. “Then she ask if I know Santos’s amigos. Was he part of a gang? Did they have the same tattoo he wore on his shoulder? Did they ever ride on the yacht? Who was on the boat the day it blew? She ask about maintenance, and Enrique, the mechanic.”

Shit.
Mario wasn’t the only one who didn’t need these problems. And,
double shit
, she was in way deeper than Rio had guessed.

“What did you tell her, Mario?” Rio added a
tell-me-and-you-won’t-get-in-trouble
threat to his voice.

“I tell her nothin’.” His hands came out, palms waving toward Rio. “I tell her I don’ know, I can’t say, I don’ keep records of who goes on the boat. I tell her I jus’ manage the docks; the boats are the owners’ concern. I tell her nothin’, señor, I swear.”

“Come on, Mario. She’s a beautiful woman. I saw you two flirting.”

“She a beautiful woman to you, Rio. She a charming
girl
to me.” His voice, the glare he shot down his nose at Rio said,
Don’t be disgusting
. “And we were not flirting. We were talking. You young men, always jealous of everything. So insecure.”

Insecure? Mario made him sound like a five-year-old. Which, okay, was about how old he felt when he thought about Cassie taking him for nothing but a joyride. That wasn’t what he wanted from her. Wait. Reframe. That wasn’t
all
he wanted from her. He’d known that much from day one in the cemetery.

“Besides, are you loco?” Mario looked at Rio like he’d lost a nut. “You think I want trouble? Here? Now?” His eyes darted toward the spot where a van had been found abandoned less than two weeks ago, stuffed with mutilated, dead bodies. The van and the bodies were long gone, but the gang’s message lived on. “I don’ want her to get hurt. If she keeps askin’ questions like that around here, she’s gonna get hurt. She a nice lady. She love her mamà very much. Santos was a true brother to her. They a nice family.”

Yes, they were. Rio knew that from spending time with Alejandra and Santos. In a lot of ways, he felt like he already knew Cassie. Had grown fond of her through their stories and their love for her long before he’d ever met her at the funerals. Sweat gleamed on Mario’s dark face. “This is such a problem. I no good at lying, señor. I just a simple man, want a simple job. If
los Muertos
hear she’s asking questions, if they think I told her somethin’…”

Rio looked out over the blue sea, boats lined up in their slips, seagulls gliding overhead. Difficult to believe this serene setting provided a killing ground for the area’s most lethal gang—
Muerte
, or Death. Their claws sank so deep into this territory, every time they made another move, the community bled.
Los Muertos
was associated with a larger and far more powerful cartel based in Agua Prieta, and that gang wanted this harbor. But so did
los Muertos
’ rivals,
los Diablos
, or the devils. Of course,
los Diablos
also had powerful backing from a larger gang, their headquarters in Mexico City.

The complex weave of gangs and gang associations in this country created an exquisitely brutal tapestry. If Rio gave it too much thought, he’d throw his hands up in defeat, move to an island in the Bahamas, and weave baskets for food—where he’d be just about as useful as he felt now.

“You did good.” Rio took a long breath of the salted air and squinted into the distance. “If she comes back, just do what you did today and call me. I’ll come get her. And you make sure Enrique is as quiet as you are. She’ll stay safe, and you’ll stay out of trouble.”

The curses Rio muttered on his way back into town almost drowned out the ping of his BlackBerry—an alert from the wiretap software.

Rio attached headphones and tapped into Cassie’s call. One to San Diego, by the looks of the phone number.

“So, is he all you remember?” an unfamiliar woman asked.

“Not even close.” Cassie’s slow speech and sensual voice sent a rivulet of heat down the center of Rio’s chest. Shit, that was uncomfortable. “He’s soooo much hotter.”

Rio tripped on an uneven ridge in the sidewalk and stopped walking.

“Details, girl,” the other woman said. “I want details.”

God, so did Rio—if she was talking about him. If not, he wanted to put a knife to his own throat.

“Mmmm,” she hummed low and sexy. A rush of lust hit him solidly between the legs. “So handsome. I didn’t remember what he looked like at all, you know, but he’s got this thick black hair and light eyes, kind of green. And his body, oh, man, serious underwear-model material.”

Okay, he didn’t know about that last part, but, yeah, she was talking about him. He did have unusual green eyes, passed down from his mother’s side. Rio stepped backward until his back hit the brick façade of a storefront.

“Does he have a brother?” the other woman asked.

“Nat.” Cassie’s voice held teasing reprimand. “You’re married.”

“Married, not dead. Send me a picture so I can drool. When are you going to jump him?”

Cassie laughed with a mischievous edge.

Rio’s throat closed. His body temperature spiked. Another rush of blood surged into his hard-on.

“Oh my God.” The unknown woman’s voice lifted. “Cassie Christo, did you already…?”

“No…” Cassie’s voice started off innocent enough but ended with teasing promise. “Not…yet.”

Rio clenched his teeth and leaned his head back against the wall.

If only.

“But I did kiss him,” she continued in that delicious
I-couldn’t-get-enough
tone. “And oh my God is right. You know how you can tell how good a guy will be in bed by the way they kiss?”

What?
Electricity arced through his body. Something about the words
how good a guy will be in bed
coming out of Cassie’s mouth made him feel like a rocket ready to launch.

“This guy would be…
will
be
…off the damn charts—the back-arching, toe-curling, sheet-fisting, multi-orgasmic charts.”

Mother of God…
Snapshots of Cassie, naked, in his bed, experiencing those very stages of pleasure, flashed in his mind. And, fuck, he couldn’t breathe.

“Cass,” the other woman groaned Cassie’s name, just the way Rio would have if he could speak. “You’re killing me here.”

“I’ll give you something more to think about while you suffer,” Cassie said. “I got a nice feel of his equipment during that kiss, and let’s just say his tool chest…is
plenty
full.”

“Jesus.” Rio breathed the word and jerked the earpiece from his ear, because the woman had his equipment working at full torque from nothing more than her voice and her words.

He pushed off the building, wiped sweat from his forehead, and started up the street again. That phone call had done nothing to provide intel—other than what he’d missed out on last night. What he would miss out on tonight. And every night in the future because of this damned situation.

That and the fact that Cassie Christo was the hottest woman in the fucking Western Hemisphere.

* * * * *

Cassie peered around the side of the building where she waited inside the recessed doorway of Miguel’s taqueria.

“Okay,” she said to Natalie as she spotted Rio well down the street, returning his phone into its holster. “He’s not listening anymore, but he’s headed my way. I have to go. I need to put in a quick call to Santiago. Thanks for the help.”