them, they might know where Belle was staying. They’d also probably know where his ranch was,
and that he was a part of the CoS.
“We need to go somewhere else.” He drew away and took her by the shoulders. “I know a little
bed and breakfast. I’l take you there. Okay?”
She nodded, tears running down her cheeks and a fearful expression on her features. “What
about the others?”
He opened the passenger side door for her. “While I’m driving, you call Leon, Marta, and
69
***
She stepped up into the chil y cab and dug his keys out of the jacket pocket. “Sorry for scaring
you. It was just that you’d taken so long and I wanted to know what was going on.”
“It’s all fine.” He took the keys she handed to him. “As long as I know you’re safe.”
Once he’d climbed in, started the truck, and heat was blowing from the vents, they headed away
from the horrific scene and back down the hill.
After Dylan gave her instructions as he drove, Belle started to make the calls. Her hands
shook as she found Leon’s name in her contacts and pressed “Call”. Everything felt so surreal.
Each member of the CoS might be targeted? Why? Nothing was computing in her brain for it to
make sense.
It was after midnight and Leon sounded sleepy but concerned as he answered the phone, and
clearly saw her name come up on his caller ID. “Belle?”
“Leon, I’m stil with Dylan.” She took a deep breath, trying to keep from sobbing. “Tom’s dead.”
“What?” Leon sounded fully awake now. “Tom?”
“Dylan thinks someone might be targeting the CoS, and the remaining five of us are in danger.”
The words didn’t seem real as she spoke them. “He believes it might have something to do with the
postcards.”
“You’re sure?” Leon’s voice held disbelief. “How did Tom die?”
She explained about the explosion and that Dylan thought it wasn’t an accident.
“You need to get yourself and your family to safety.” She swallowed and proceeded to give Leon
the instructions Dylan had spel ed out to her. “Dylan said to go to a small hotel in Sierra Vista where
you can go under an assumed name without showing ID. Some kind of crappy no-tell motel.”
“Shit.” Leon bit out the word. In the background, Belle heard Leon’s wife’s voice, asking what
was going on. Leon’s words were a little muffled as he must have pulled the phone away from his
ear. “Babe, get the kids together. I’l explain in a minute.” His voice was clear again. “Okay, we’l go.”
“Tell Leon to call me in the morning,” Dylan said.
She repeated the instruction.
“I stil have Dylan’s card.” Leon sounded agitated. “I’l get a hold of him. Both of you be careful.”
“Just get going.” The urgency within Belle made her jittery. “I’m going to get a hold of Marta and
Christie.”
Streetlights flashed by as Dylan drove. She disconnected with Leon and pul ed up Christie’s
number. The call went straight to voice mail. Feeling almost frantic, she pressed redial and again
she heard Christie’s voice, telling the caller to leave a message.
“Christie.” Belle tried not to rush her words. “
Call me.
I need to talk with you. It’s urgent.”
When Belle disconnected, she looked at Dylan. “What if something has happened to her?”
70
***
Belle nodded and got Marta’s number. The call was answered after two rings.
“Hello?” The voice was not Marta’s and it was far from calm. “Who is this?”
“This is Belle Hartford.” A sick feeling gripped Belle’s stomach. “I’m trying to reach Marta.”
“This is Marta’s wife, Nancy.” The woman sounded like she was crying. “We’re at the hospital.”
“Oh, Nancy. What happened?” Horror rose up inside Belle, clawing its way through her chest as
her gaze met Dylan’s. “Is Marta okay?”
“She’s in serious condition.” Nancy’s voice was tight. “Someone hit her over the head. When I
found her there was blood everywhere.”
“Oh, my God.” Belle put her hand over her mouth then lowered it to speak. “Are you at the
Copper Queen Hospital?”
“Yes.” Nancy sobbed. “The force of the blow caused swelling to her brain and the doctors
induced a coma. They said it was to protect her brain from being damaged by the swelling and
pressure.”
“We’l be there.” Belle’s heart thudded. “We just have to check on Christie.”
Nancy was apparently too distraught to question why Belle had called at this hour and why she
was checking on a friend this late at night.
“Ask her if there are police officers at the hospital,” Dylan said.
Belle asked Nancy the question.
“Yes.” Nancy’s voice cracked. “Why?”
Dylan took the phone from Belle. “Tell one of the officers to stay close, that Agent Curtis with
DHS believes it might be an attempt on her life. I’m going to call BPD to make sure an officer is
posted.”
Belle could hear the woman’s frantic questions. Dylan said, “We’l be there as soon as we can
to explain.”
After he ended the call, he handed the phone back to Belle. “Try Christie again.”
Belle’s mind was spinning as she brought up Christie’s number. When it went to voicemail for
the third time, she wanted to scream.
While she tried to call Christie, Dylan spoke on his phone and she heard him address someone
as Lieutenant Marks before giving a quick rundown and asking for an officer to be posted by Marta’s
hospital room.
Dylan made a second call as Belle left Christie another message. She heard him explain the
situation in more detail to whoever was on the other end of the line.
She realized they were almost to Warren, where Christie lived. Dylan shoved his phone back
into its holster and guided the truck to one of the terraces where some of the nicer homes were
located.
71
***
pul ed into Christie and Salvatore’s driveway, Belle was opening her door before Dylan had brought
the truck to a full stop.
He grabbed her arm as he put the vehicle into park. “Stay here.” His expression was hard as he
looked at her. “Lock the doors when I get out. I need to make sure it’s safe.”
The look on his face told her she shouldn’t argue because she wouldn’t win even though she
wanted to see for herself that Christie was okay.
But what if Christie wasn’t all right?
Dylan climbed out and waited for her to lock the doors before he strode to the wrought iron
security door at the entrance.
***
***
Salvatore held his phone to his ear and listened to Ryan Davies. Salvatore stood in front of the
special bookcase he’d had installed when his contractor cousin had put in the safe. Just one flick of
a switch and the bookcase would swing open to a set of stairs that led to two rooms beneath the
house.
In those rooms, he had enough supplies for himself and Christie to survive for well past a month.
And beyond that…freedom. If anything ever went down where he needed an out, they would be
gone once things had cooled.
He listened to Davies, a mercenary for hire that Salvatore had retained through his most
powerful cousin, El Verdugo. Dr. Tom Zumsteg was no more. And thanks to a bug Davies had planted
in the doctor’s phone at the hospital, Salvatore knew that Zumsteg hadn’t had time to give his
postcard to Dylan Curtis.
Salvatore gave a triumphant smile as he ended the call with Davies. Now Salvatore needed to
get rid of the rest of the circle to make sure they didn’t figure out the meaning of the cards. Once
Salvatore had gotten more out of Christie, after hearing what had been on her own card, he’d known
that those notes were meant to point back to him.
It was too bad Rodrigo required the services of Davies now, so the mercenary wasn’t available
to wipe everyone out who needed to be eliminated. Salvatore would have to rely on others to rid him
of those he despised…every single member of the circle.
He couldn’t allow them to figure out what Nate O’Mal ey had been trying to tell them.
Salvatore’s phone rang and he looked at the screen. Oscar Garcia, a nurse at the Copper Queen
Hospital, with more good news, he had no doubt.
“Is she dead?” Salvatore asked instead of giving a greeting.
Oscar cleared his throat. “No.”
Sudden fury burned in Salvatore’s chest like heated metal as he held the phone to his ear and
said the words slowly. “Marta De La Paz is not dead?”
Oscar was clearly trying to sound confident as he spoke. “The doctors do not know if she wil
recover.”
“You wil make sure she dies.” Salvatore clenched and unclenched his free hand as he stopped
and stared at the closed door. The office was soundproofed and his wife would not hear even if he
shouted. He managed to maintain control. “You are a fucking nurse. You can go into her room when
there is an opportunity. Smother her with a pillow. Anything.”
Oscar let out an audible breath. “The authorities have posted a guard at her door. A policeman.”
Salvatore’s body went rigid. Law enforcement had already figured out that the precious circle
73
***
Trying to relax his muscles, Salvatore forced himself to take a deep breath. He should not be
surprised since Curtis was a federal agent. With the attack on Marta and the explosion happening at
the same time, however, Salvatore had hoped Curtis wouldn’t have time to catch on until tomorrow
when it was too late and the rest of the circle would be dead.
“Find a way,” Salvatore said in a fierce growl to Oscar. “Kil her.”
“Yes, sir.” Oscar had barely spoken the words when Salvatore disconnected the call.
If only they had known where Curtis was tonight, they would have taken care of the one man
who could have put everything together so quickly.
Salvatore made another call, to his most trusted man, Paco Esperanza. He’d have Paco keep
an eye on Oscar and make sure he did the job.
With a growl, Salvatore started to reach for his humidor to get the key to the door above the
safe. He hadn’t indulged in a few days, but right now he wanted to snort a line of coke more than he
cared to admit.
A knock at the office door jerked his attention from his thoughts and his hand from the humidor.
Why would Christie bother him this late at night? He frowned and strode toward the door, unlocked
it, and yanked it open to see his wife standing in front of him, a robe wrapped around her slender
form, her red hair tousled.
“Someone is at the front door.” Christie furrowed her delicate brows. “The doorbel has been
ringing. I thought you might not want me to open it myself this late at night.”
The doorbell rang insistently through the house as she finished speaking. He hadn’t heard it
before, thanks to the soundproofing in his office.
Without answering her, he headed down the hallway to the front door that was heavy and solid
behind the security door.
He peeked out the peephole and saw that Dylan Curtis was on his doorstep.
For one moment Salvatore wondered if Curtis had guessed who had ordered the murders of the
circle members. He mentally shook his head. No doubt Curtis was here for a more noble cause—to
inform and warn them.
Salvatore opened the door. The irritation that was likely on his features would be excused as
being interrupted at such a late hour.
“What’s going on?” Salvatore tried not to snap as he spoke through the screen of the security
door.
“Dylan.” Christie moved beside Salvatore and he wished he’d sent her to bed. “Has something
happened?”
“Do you mind opening up?” Curtis gestured to security door.
“Of course not.” Christie bit her lip as she looked up at Salvatore.
74
***
Curtis looked from Salvatore to Christie. “There’s no easy way to say this. Tom is dead.”
Christie’s eyes widened and she clapped her hand over her mouth as if to hold in a scream.
Salvatore tried to look appropriately shocked. “What happened?”
“An explosion at his home.” Curtis moved his gaze to Salvatore. “It was a bomb.”
“My God.” Salvatore looked at his wife and put an arm around her shoulders as shock and