Her Loyal Seal (21 page)

“Don’t be walking around just wearing a blanket. Real clothes this time.”

“Who knew you’d be such a prude.” She watched as he left. Lydia wondered why Drake and Darius were here. She wanted a few more minutes of not knowing. Was that too much to ask for?

All three men were standing around the seating area. Darius and Drake were tense, they had obviously been waiting for her.

“What’s up?” She looked over at Clint and he shrugged. He held out his hand and she went to him.

“Let’s get Mason on the video,” Drake suggested. Darius was already starting the call. Drake wouldn’t look her in the eye.

“Drake, what’s up?” She insisted.

“One time, Lydia, I just want this said one time. If we’re wrong, we’ll never mention it again, you have my word.” She got a really bad feeling as Drake looked down at her, his eyes soft with sympathy.

“Hi Guys,” Mason said from the computer screen.

“Lieutenant, you’re scaring my best girl. Let’s cut to the chase.”

“We got some information on Berto. Well, on all the Guzman’s.” Mason looked directly at her. His eyes were piercing and sympathetic. Damn, she was scared.

“Is it my parents?”

“Your family is fine for now. We’re trying to put some of the puzzle pieces together. After your Dad started working for the accounting firm, did you ever meet Guzman or his sons?”

“No!”

“Think Lydia, you were pretty young when he went to work for him.”

Lydia leaned over the table where the computer was placed, so she could get into Mason’s face. “Mason, I’ve been tracking this asshole for almost two years now, I’d remember him or his spawns.”

“Okay, we didn’t think so. Do you think Beth has?”

“No.”

Mason just looked at her. All of the other men in the room were silent.

“I said ‘no’.”

“Baby, how would you know if Beth had or hadn’t met them?” Clint asked.

“She would have told me.”

“Lydia, did your dad ever take Beth to his office?” This time it was Darius asking. Lydia plopped down on the couch.

“I don’t understand, why would it matter if she had met them? It would have been a long time ago. What’s this all about?”

“It matters because Berto is fucking nuts. That’s why.” Drake just sounded defeated. He wasn’t yelling, he wasn’t sounding outraged. Now she was
really
scared.

“Please, won’t one of you tell me what is going on? Is Beth in some sort of danger? I mean besides the obvious of having to hide from killers?” Clint sat down next to her on the couch, and turned the laptop so it was facing the two of them. Darius and Drake sat on either side of them. It was a tight squeeze, but they all managed to fit, so Mason could see them.

“Please Mason, talk to me. Don’t make me wait.” Drake patted her hand, as if to tell her it would be all right.

“He’s not trying to drag this out. He needed you to answer those questions, honey.”

“Lydia,” Mason began, “we got our information on Berto’s obsession with the certain types of women. Remember when we told you that he only wanted to
interact
with a specific type of Hispanic woman?”

“Cut the euphemisms Mason. I remember perfectly. Of the Hispanic and Asian women he planned to sell, he would rape the Hispanic women, but only certain ones. Yeah, got that the first time. It still makes me sick to think about it.” Lydia tried to keep her shit together but it was getting tougher.

“Lydia, one of the guys who started talking said something pretty interesting. He said Berto was the one who was going to come witness your family’s murder at the shack. He told everyone Beth wasn’t to be harmed, and she would be leaving with him.”

“But he doesn’t know Beth. It doesn’t make any sense. But I thank God for it. Her life would have been spared.” She clapped her hand over her mouth. Her eyes widened in horror. Beth wouldn’t have been spared. What unimaginable things would have happened to her?

“Mason, what else did this guy say?” Clint asked.

“He knew nothing more than that when it came to Beth, but that scared the hell out of us. It means Berto has targeted her. All we can figure is somewhere down the line he’s met her. Lydia, we’re going to have to ask your dad.”

“This is going to kill Papa.” She pressed close to Clint’s warmth. “He’s going to hate himself for putting Beth at risk, but there is no other explanation.”

“We do have good news. The same guy had a lot to say about daddy Guzman. He gave up everything. Shit, he even drew maps to guide the Mexican authorities to Guzman’s plantations. His operation is shut down. Tomorrow, they’re going to raid the place where he should be and arrest him.”

“Thank God.”

“It’s possible after tomorrow’s arrest, we’ll have all the evidence we need against the congressman. It might mean Guzman’s drug empire is no more. If that really happens, then the reprisals that the US Marshall’s have been worried about, are gone. You and your family won’t have to go into Witness Protection.”

“What about Berto and his sick fascination with Beth?”

“He didn’t have any idea of his whereabouts. But we should be able to find him. Everyone involved is hell-bent on taking down the human trafficking ring. We’re sure there will be some evidence when they capture Guzman tomorrow. Until we do, you and your parents might not have to be under guard, but your sister will be.”

“That doesn’t make any fucking sense,” Clint ground out. “Won’t Berto be likely to seek retribution on the rest of the Hidalgo family?”

“No,” Lydia said tiredly. “I know him. He’s not his father. He’s not some cartel crime lord. You know this Clint, you’ve read the same things I have. He’s all about Berto and making money. If he’s moved onto human trafficking, he’s just in it for the money. And apparently my sister,” Lydia’s voice broke.

“We’re going to get him, there is no fucking way this fucking bastard will get his fucking hands on Beth.” Drake stood up and started pacing the length of the hotel suite.

“But I wanted this to be over with, for everyone.” Lydia pressed the heel of her hand to her eyes. She felt a headache coming on. Clint squeezed the back of her neck, offering relief.

“So now we wait. When is the raid going down?” Clint asked.

“Three o’clock.”

“Will Mama and Papa still have to be in protective custody until the trial?”

Mason traded glances with Darius and Clint who were still sitting on the couch. “It’s probably for the best, Lydia. The DEA agents are out on bail.”

“Okay.” She wanted to go back to bed. “Oh yeah, I hope you have a nice time with Sophia. She deserves a great birthday. Clint told me about all she’s been through.”

“We have quite the party planned. Hopefully you’ll get to meet her soon.”

“That’d be nice Mason. Really nice.” She rubbed her temple. Her head was really beginning to pound.

“Okay, let’s wrap this up. I need to get Lydia some aspirin and back to bed.”

“Good night, Lydia. Guys, I’ll keep you informed.” Mason signed off.

Darius stood and joined Drake at the door of the suite.

“Call us when you get up. Lydia, I hope you get to feeling better,” Drake said as he walked out the door.

She slumped against the back of the couch. The next thing she knew Clint was giving her some water and two white tablets.

“Here, Baby.” She swallowed.

“Sorry,” she said looking up at him. Damn the light was hurting her eyes. She closed them. He picked her up and carried her to their bedroom. He helped her out of her clothes and she lay there with him. The pain didn’t subside and she whimpered.

“Let me work on you. You’re tensing up and the pain’s getting worse, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” her voice was slurred.

Clint gently rolled her over. He pushed her hair over her head and did a couple of soft touches up and down her back and then lightly stroked her neck and scalp. She pushed up into his fingers trying to increase the pressure.

“Don’t move baby, I’ll do it harder.” Over time his touch became more firm, until she finally sighed in relief.

“You can stop now. I feel better.”

“Just go to sleep. I like touching you.”

She drifted off with the feel of Clint caressing and caring for her.

Chapter Eleven

“I want to talk about Rylie.” Were the first words out of Darius’ mouth as he entered the hotel suite. Thank God she was firing on all cylinders, otherwise Lydia didn’t think she would have been able to have handled such an abrupt change in topic from last night’s.

“Okay,” she said slowly. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Has she contacted you? What have you been doing to find her? Is she still messed up with this Guzman shit?”

“Whoa there Hoss. Let’s order up some breakfast. Lydia hasn’t even had her coffee. We’ll tell you everything we know.” Clint clamped a hand on his friends shoulder and guided him towards the dining room table where the coffee pot sat. Lydia gave Drake a questioning look, and he just shook his head in confusion.

Darius poured himself some coffee. All three men took it black, while Lydia doctored hers up with an appropriate amount of cream and sugar.

“The last time Rylie contacted us we tracked her down to Oklahoma,” Clint said.

“Where?”

“We don’t know.”

“Why not?”

Darius was asking the questions rapid fire. Clint was showing a hell of a lot more patience than she would have been. What the hell was Darius’ problem?

“Look, Darius,” Lydia interrupted. “Rylie has been on the net as Sylvia for over three years. I’m betting that before then she was doing a hell of a lot under different names. She is one of the best I’ve ever run into.”

“So she’s wily, like a coyote,” Drake chimed in. He laughed at his own joke. Everyone scowled at him.

“What I’m saying Darius is that we were lucky to track her to Oklahoma. We’ve been concentrating on the Guzman case, and now I want to nail Berto, but finding Rylie is important, so we won’t give up on her.”

“You don’t understand.” Darius hadn’t touched his coffee, he looked between Clint and Lydia. “She’s young, her parents are dead, she’s been abused and she doesn’t have an anchor. She’s going to keep taking risks until something bad happens to her because she thinks this Robin Hood thing is her only purpose. She has no sense of self-preservation. We’ve got to stop her.”

“You can’t know that,” Drake said.

“Yes I can.” His teeth were clenched. The last time she had seen him look like that was when he had been ministering to her in the jungle.

“Explain it to us, Darius. Tell us how you know this,” she said gently. She reached over the table and grabbed his clenched fist.

“I grew up in foster care. I just know.” He looked her dead in the eye, ignoring Clint and Drake. “I know.”

“Then it’s a done deal,” Drake said. “As soon as Guzman is handled, we have two number one priorities. We find the fucker Berto, and we make sure Rylie is cared for.” Darius pulled his hand away from Lydia and picked up his coffee.

“All right then.”

“I want breakfast. Does this place serve grits, or is it too hoity-toity?” Clint called in the room service order, and Drake bitched all during breakfast that they didn’t have grits on the menu.

Darius got up first from the table. Lydia watched as he went to the window to look outside. He then came back to the table and sat down. Two minutes later Drake repeated the process. When Clint did the same thing, curiosity got to her.

“What is going on? Are you worried someone is going to come here?” Clint looked over at her with a rueful expression.

“We’re just antsy, Baby. We can’t stand the thought of Mason and the others in harm’s way in Mexico and us sitting here. So we’re just walking around and looking for shadows.”

“Enough already.” Drake went to his jacket and pulled out a dog-eared deck of cards. “Clint, see if you can at least get some GPS going on the team, and track them. In the meantime, let’s see if we can settle by playing a little poker.”

Clint pulled up his computer and soon they had Mason’s position pinpointed. He wasn’t moving.

“I’m going to set it up so it pings as soon as he moves. In the meantime I intend to win back all the cash that I lost to Darius last time.”

“Dream on, buddy. I’m the master at poker.” Lydia listened to the byplay. She’d only played poker once, but she remembered the rules, they seemed straightforward enough.

“Deal me in.”

It took over an hour before the computer pinged to let them know Mason was on the move. Nobody was really interested in the game, and stopped playing to watch the computer screen.

“There!” Drake pointed to a building. “That’s their target. It’s acquired.” Lydia watched as all the men seemed to hold their collective breaths when Mason’s dot stopped moving on the screen. They let it out as one when it started to move again.

“Does Mason know you can track him?” Lydia asked.

“Clint tracks everyone,” Drake answered. “All of our cells have tracking devices for Clint to follow us. I’m sure Clint doctored the burner phone you got so he could track you.”

“Did you?”

“Hell yes.” For some reason that made her feel comforted.

The icon for Mason stopped again.

Clint got a text.

“They got him!” Mason said he’d SKYPE with us when he could. The relief in the suite was palpable. They went back to playing cards, and Darius beat everyone easily. Two hours later Mason was on the screen. He spoke directly to Lydia.

“They got him, Lydia. Guzman is in custody. Everything went down without a hitch.”

“What about Berto?”

“What we’re being told is it’s going to take a couple of days to sort through everything to find any evidence of Berto and the human trafficking ring.”

“So Guzman didn’t say anything?” Clint asked.

“I’m sorry man. No he didn’t. They have him in for questioning. I spoke to Inspector Rios and he’s sure he can get him to talk.”

“He won’t,” Lydia said dejectedly.

“I agree,” Mason said. “We’re really counting on finding something on his computers. I was told he had quite the set-up. In the meantime, your sister is safe in hiding. Once Berto is captured, your whole family will be able to live a life without fear of reprisal from Guzman. But…”