The Omega Team: Hot Target (Kindle Worlds Novella) (8 page)

***

Minutes later

“No, this must be a mistake.” Jacquie gasped.

She stared at her laptop screen until her eyes burned. Memories raced through her mind as she replayed everything she knew through her head.
Please…this can’t be.
When her vision blurred, she realized she’d been crying.
No way.
She wiped the tears from her cheeks and took a deep breath.

“This can’t be right. I gotta run it again.”

She punched the keypad and double checked her findings.
Twice more.
Rafael Madero’s police personnel record kept coming up. Dressed in uniform with his hair short, he held his chin high and had stared into the camera that day, a different man than the brooding and withdrawn man she knew. Jacquie couldn’t get her mind to accept what she’d found.

Why would Ruiz do this?

It had to be a conspiracy. Why would a Cuban politician ask for Athena by name, to solve a cold case murder on foreign soil? It was too much of a coincidence that her boss was related to Rafael, but why would Ruiz plant Rafe’s fingerprints and how had it been done? Rafael’s passport had only one stamp for Cuba. He’d never been to this country before now.

None of this made sense.

Yet Rafael’s face still stared at her from the screen. She couldn’t look at it anymore. Jacquie stood and headed for the window, fidgeting with her hands until she stuffed them in her pockets. Lightning streaked across the horizon and rain sluiced down the glass in a steady stream, casting a painter’s tableau of city lights across her bedroom.

“What’s the connection?” She shook her head and chewed her lower lip.

A sudden impulse gripped her. Jacquie had to discover the link between the Maderos and the drug cartel leader, Hector Borrego. She raced back to her laptop and ran a query on several keywords. Link after link filled pages of her Internet search. She scrolled down and looked for anything that would tie Athena or Rafael to a Cuban drug kingpin.

When one article had a photo of Rafael and his wife and child, Jacquie stopped breathing. With trembling fingers, she clicked on the link and a news story spread across the screen.

“Oh my God.”

She didn’t need any more confirmation. Cartel boss Hector Borrego had been connected to a police investigation into the murder of Rafael’s wife and child. The online post talked about leads that were proven false, but the damage to the investigation had been done. Rumors insinuated that Elena Madero, Rafe’s wife, had been part of the cartel. It didn’t matter that the rumors were unfounded. Since the murder had an unsavory connection to a drug deal, all the dead ends turned the case cold and no suspects were found.

Rafael had more than enough motive to wield his own justice, but would he have done it?

Jacquie could only imagine how devastated Rafael would’ve been to read such trash. To accuse his wife—and the mother of his little girl—of drug connections that had gotten her killed, would have been the final indignity. The justice system had failed him. Money talked and people could be bought. She had no idea what she would’ve done in his place, but it ripped her apart to imagine the depth of his pain. No man should lose his wife and his baby girl to such a gruesome murder—with no hope for justice.

No way. I don’t believe this.

“Rafael,” she whispered his name and turned off her laptop. Athena would want to know.

***

Rafael felt gut punched when the knock finally came to his door. Lying on his bed, he stared at the ceiling and took a haggard breath before he sat up and flipped on the lamp. He braced himself for the look on his sister’s face. She would know Ruiz hadn’t planted his fingerprints—that the digital scan of his prints was correct—and he was capable of murdering in the name of Elena and Ariana.

How could she not know this?

He trudged across the room and grasped the handle. When he opened the door, Rafael was surprised to see Jacquie Lyles.

“We have to talk,” she said as she pushed by him.

“Please. Come in.” He closed the door behind her, to give them privacy.

Jacquie walked toward Rafe’s window and didn’t turn to face him. She looked beautiful in the glistening rain with her blonde hair picking up the pastels of the city. He wanted to remember her like this, before she turned and accused him of murder.

Hotel Inglaterra

1:45 AM

“I found an article online about the death of your wife and little girl,” Jacquie said with a catch in her voice. “I didn’t mean to pry, but I think you know why I had to do the search.”

Rafe didn’t say a word. In the reflection of the glass, she saw him slump onto the corner of his mattress, waiting for her to go on. The rain bled trickles of color down his face and body. She wanted to hold him, but she couldn’t.

Jacquie crossed her arms tight and stared out his bedroom window, watching the storm outside. She had things to say and she didn’t want to be distracted by his soul searching eyes. His little girl’s face haunted her. She couldn’t imagine the magnitude of his loss at losing a child.

“The article said there was a link between Elena and Ariana’s deaths and the Borrego drug cartel. How is that even possible?”

She didn’t believe in coincidences in her line of work. She’d learned to be skeptical from her time with the Tampa PD and her work with the Omega Team, but she found it nearly impossible to believe Rafael would lie to his sister about the tragic deaths.

“There’s only one connection between Hector Borrego and the death of—” He couldn’t finish. “Me. I’m the connection.”

Jacquie didn’t know what he would say next, but whatever it would be, Rafael paid a price whenever he spoke of Elena and Ariana.

“Talk to me, Rafe. You know why I’m here. I have to know the truth.” She turned and knelt in front of him, pleading for him to trust her. “If you tell me you didn’t do this, I’ll believe you. Just say it. Please.”

Rafael couldn’t look her in the eye. The fact that he didn’t question what she meant by
‘Tell me you didn’t do this’
confirmed her worst fears—that he knew they’d find his fingerprints on the shell casing—but she had to hear it from his lips. She had to understand how it had happened and why.

“I can’t do that, Jacquie.” Rafael reached for her hand, but pulled back from her.

His silence made it hard for her to breathe.

“What do you want me to do?” The words came out of her mouth before she really understood what she meant.

Would she lie for him? Could she forget about their mission and dismiss a man’s murder because his death didn’t count as much as an innocent woman and her child?

“I can’t tell you that either,” he said. “Do what you have to do, Jacquie. My sister trusted you with the evidence. It’s out of your hands and out of mine now. You have to do the right thing.”

Jacquie didn’t understand. He was pushing her to turn him in, as if he didn’t care. Malicious killers didn’t act like this. They lied. They ran from the police. They did anything to avoid the punishment they earned by their evil actions.

But she couldn’t answer one question that had plagued her since she confirmed his fingerprints were on the shell casing. If she were in his place, what would she have done?

To answer that question, she had to know what it would mean to become a mother. She thought of loving a man so much that she wanted to have his baby and bring a precious life into this world together, only to have evil cross the threshold into the shattered safety of her loving home and kill that future. The insanity of that cruelty churned heat through her blood—
pure rage
—just imagining the utter loss and powerlessness of losing a child.

If she understood only a fraction of what he truly felt, she knew she’d be capable of doing the same thing he did. He’d challenged her to
‘do the right thing,’
but there was nothing
right
about what happened.

There was no justice in any of it.

“I have to hear you say it, Rafe. How did your fingerprints get on that shell casing?”

“You know how,” he said. “Ruiz had nothing to do with it.”

“Then tell me how you got on Borrego’s radar when you lived in Chicago and he lived in Cuba.”

Shadowy fingers of rain trickled down his bedroom window and cast him in undulating darkness. She traced a hand down his muscled arm, tracing a fleeting glimpse of light, until he entwined his fingers in hers. His large hands made hers look small.

“My SWAT team in Chicago got a call. A hostage rescue,” Rafe said. “Three idiots strung out on crystal meth had taken hostages. They got caught trying to rob an older couple who were babysitting their two grandkids. When a neighbor called 911 and cops showed up, things escalated.”

When he heaved a sigh, she knew that she’d forced him to relive a terrible memory, and she squeezed his hand.

“Addicts turn real paranoid and mean,” he said. “They killed the grandfather, right in front of his wife of thirty-five years. Those kids saw everything, too.”

Chin down, he shook his head.

Jacquie couldn’t imagine dealing with such a life or death situation. Her worst day might mean dealing with a paper cut. She couldn’t fathom what it would take to save a life by taking another.

“That’s terrible. What happened?”

“The leader came out of the house, screaming and holding a gun to the head of a five-year-old little boy,” he said. “The hostage negotiator ordered my sniper team to take the shot if we had a play. I had a clear shot and I took it.”

“But you saved that little boy, right? You helped those hostages.”

Rafael nodded.

“Yeah, taking out the leader diffused the situation fast. Arrests were made and the rest of the hostages got out alive, but the kid I shot was only twenty years old. I’ve never forgotten his face. I wish we could’ve rescued those hostages without firing a shot, but that doesn’t always happen.”

Rafe fixed his gaze on her.

“The kid’s name was Mateo Borrego, the son of Hector’s younger brother who lived in Chicago. Mateo got hooked on his own product. Never a good thing.” He shrugged. “After Hector found out what happened, he put me on a hit list. I thought only my life was in danger, but that bastard knew how to really kill me.”

“I hate that this happened to you, to your wife and little girl. It’s so unfair. You were only doing your job.”

“That’s not how a man like Hector Borrego sees it, but I’m no better than him. I took the law into my own hands. How is that any different than what he did?”

“But it
is
different. I know you’ve lived your life with a strong sense of right and wrong. That’s why you became a cop.” She touched his cheek as she knelt in front of him. “But I think you’ve blamed yourself for what happened to your family and that’s the real reason you want to be punished. You want to stop feeling the pain of missing them, but maybe all you did was balance the scale.”

Jacquie couldn’t believe she’d said that killing a man in cold blood had only made things right, but how could any notion of justice make him whole again? 

“After we had Ariana, I never knew I could be so happy. I thought there would
always
be the three of us, but now it’s just me and it’s…unbearable.” He lowered his chin and a tear rolled down his cheek. “It’s not that I have any real death wish, but I think I just want my body to feel, what I feel in my heart.”

“Shh. Don’t say that,” she whispered and pressed a finger to his lips. “Elena and your sweet Ariana wouldn’t want this for you.”

Rafael shook his head.

“I don’t deserve your understanding. I’m not the man I used to be. I can never be that again.” He let go of her hand and looked away. “I have no right being on Athena’s Omega Team. She needs to know what you found on that shell casing. You have no choice but to tell her.”

Jacquie felt sucker punched.

At first she thought she held his fate in her hands whether she chose to tell Athena or not, but no matter what she decided, Rafael had set his destiny in motion when he left that shell casing at the crime scene five years ago. She couldn’t save him. Anything she did wouldn’t matter. Rafe would push for the punishment he thought he deserved.

Still, if the decision had never been in her hands, why did she feel like his executioner?

“Hold me,” she whispered to him. “I need you to hold me.”

Rafael pulled her into his arms and held her tight against the warmth of his body. He cradled her as if she were something rare and precious. He’d shared his darkest secret with her. Not even his sister knew what he’d done. The intimacy they’d shared meant much more than her idea of hot fantasy sex.

When Rafe picked her up and placed her on his mattress, Jacquie thought he might kiss her, but he did something that surprised her more. He climbed into bed with her and held her tight. They stared out the window and watched the rain.

Jacquie clutched his strong arms around her and let the tears come. After seeing the faces of his wife and baby girl, she became profoundly connected to his grief, as if she sensed the depth of the emptiness in him. She knew what she had to do—what he wanted her to do—but it tore her apart inside. He’d lost too much and now, whatever remained of his life, he’d lose that too.

She’d been right from the start. Rafael Madero would break her heart—but sex would have nothing to do with it.

***

Rafael hadn’t felt this close to a woman since he held Elena in his arms. Jacquie asked for him to hold her, but once he pulled her into his embrace, he realized he needed a different kind of intimacy more. His burden had been lifted. Someone else knew his worst secret and he’d have one night to share with a good woman he didn’t deserve. By morning, everything would change. He’d have to settle for the few hours he’d have left.

For the first time in years, Rafael didn’t feel alone. He drew comfort from another human being who cared about what happened to him. He watched the rain and let it mercifully heal his soul for the time he had.

After he shut his eyes, he slept like the dead.