putting away their owner.
So close.
The woman screeched again, an earsplitting sound, a reminder that he had another person to break out of here first. Get Veronica Spencer out before the whole investigation went down.
And if he could, do it without giving himself away.
She kicked the rear door for the hundredth time, and Guerra laughed with delight. “The chica’s got fire in her. I look forward to snuffing it out.”
Ethan’s stomach clenched along with his teeth. He fought the urge to pull over and arrest the sleazy man right there. Instead, he smiled Guerra’s way and hoped that it covered his true feelings well.
As well as his growing doubts in Roni Spencer’s guilt.
If she was working for the Boss like Pace said, why would Guerra try to take her out? A little disagreement between accomplices? Jealousy?
Or was this whole scene staged, made to look as if she was innocent in front of...who?
Him?
Ethan sent a quick look Guerra’s way. Had the man figured out he had an agent in his presence?
Ethan’s hand curled tight around the steering wheel. “Are you going to give me some directions, or are we just going to drive all night?” he asked, acting as if he didn’t really care.
“The Boss wants us to bring our feisty chica to him. He also wants to meet you. He was impressed with your vision to go big and ransom the woman. You just earned your way into the big house. What do you think of that?”
Ethan’s saliva glands juiced. He could taste the victory with this case already. So close had just become right now.
Ethan envisioned the win being handed to him on a silver platter, although knowing the extent of this ring, the platter would be solid gold. He couldn’t wait to tag the platter as Asset Forfeiture, and every other piece of property stolen by this crime ring. If he believed God cared one bit about him he might have thought he was being handed the win as some sort of reward. But that couldn’t be the case. God would never give him anything. And Ethan definitely didn’t deserve a reward, nor did he want any favors. He’d learned it was best never to expect any, especially in his line of work. He had a job to do, and he did it alone. Period.
Ethan switched lanes and answered Guerra’s question with an aloof shrug. “Should be interesting, but I was looking for some pocket change. I thought we were going to ransom the woman. What could the Boss possibly want with Spencer?”
Guerra stilled and glared at him with his beady black eyes. The man didn’t appear to buy Ethan’s nonchalance.
Ethan readied to spring into fight mode, his gun within reach in his ankle holster.
“Remember, muchacho, I’m putting my life on the line by bringing you along. I could leave you right here, if you catch my drift.”
Ethan locked his eyes on Guerra’s black-gazed warning. Slowly, Ethan smirked as if to say, is this a joke? A slow rumble of a laugh erupted from his tight vocal cords. The bluff was a risk, but no fear could be shown or he would be pushing up this spring’s daisies along the roadside.
Guerra smirked in return and chuckled, too, at first low, then loud and cackled. A laughing hyena came to mind, all sharp teeth bared in a wide-open mouth; 100 percent vicious and sickly illuminated by the lights of the dashboard. “The Boss is going to like you, Ethan Gunn. Keep heading north. We’re going to the border. Right outside Canada in a logging community. The middle of nowhere, really. Wait till you see this place. Our chica might never want to leave, if she even could.”
Ethan stilled his hands on the wheel. Once again Guerra’s words didn’t sit right. “And we’ll ransom her there?”
“We’ll see,” Franco said with a small smile and looked out his window. End of conversation.
Again, Roni Spencer felt like a victim in all this, not an accomplice. She felt like an innocent civilian caught up in his investigation.
Ethan bit down on the inside of his cheek, remembering the last civilian he’d snagged in an investigation—and nearly got killed. He’d vowed never again. Solo or no-go. That’s how it had to be with him.
Ethan peered into the rearview mirror to the woman tied up in the back. Not a noise or movement could be heard now. He doubted she’d fallen asleep. She had to be listening to them. Had Guerra’s words ground her impudence into fear? Was she feeling as sick as he was? He had to stop this from going any further.
“I don’t think we should be bringing her,” Ethan said. “She doesn’t seem the type to go quietly. She could get us all killed.”
“Boss’s orders, and what he says, goes. I don’t think you want to get on his bad side. And not mine either. Now drive.” Guerra put his gun on his lap, his trigger finger itching to make his point.
Ethan continued north and thought of his tracking chip sewn into the inseam of his boot. He trusted Pace to be charting his every move north and following with the team. They wouldn’t be too far behind and would be ready to move in with guns blazing if Ethan needed them. But only if. Anything earlier would jeopardize the investigation, and Pace wouldn’t make his move a moment too soon.
Ethan drove on, leading Pace to the Boss, but that also meant leading Roni Spencer into even more danger. Whether she was a criminal or civilian didn’t matter.
He shot another look in the rearview mirror. The bundle on the floor remained still and quiet. Regardless of what Pace believed about her, something told Ethan he’d just graduated from undercover car thief in this operation to nefarious human trafficker. And Roni Spencer was his first delivery.
Roni’s aching head took hit after hit as the van bounced over a deep-rutted road. Logging roads in the middle of nowhere. They’d left the smooth highways a while ago and traveled far enough from her home that none of her family would ever find her. Not the one in the CIA, and not even Wade’s intelligent service dog, Promise.
The van thumped again and Roni forced her eyelids closed, swapping the tormenting darkness of her shroud for a darkness she controlled. Her arms and legs had long gone numb from the constricting ropes bound to her appendages. They drove her to near insanity, but not as much as her fear. In this moment of stark terror, all she wanted was her mom.
The image that formed in Roni’s mind wasn’t one of the photographs that portrayed her birth mother, but instead, a living and breathing woman, Cora Daniels, came to mind.
Cora was so much more than the family’s maid. She had worked for the Spencers long before Roni was born. It was Cora who cared for Roni so lovingly after the loss of her parents. It was Cora who filled the role as mother through the many surgeries on Roni’s burns and through the emotional pain that followed for so long after. It was Cora who made sure Roni never felt left behind, not when her parents died and not when Wade left for the army. Cora was Roni’s support team when her blood relatives weren’t, when her own uncle—her guardian—found her lacking. Roni pushed thoughts of Uncle Clay away. She didn’t need his negativity in her moment of life-and-death. She refocused on Cora’s loving face in her mind.
As
