Stronger Than Sin (15 page)

Bruno whipped onto the roadway. Early evening had little traffic volume, and in no time they had made it to Liliana’s parents’
restaurant.

El Mirador was on the main drag in Bradley Beach, and there wasn’t an empty spot anywhere nearby. Bruno pulled up into the
alley behind the restaurant.

“I’ll be back in a second,” she said, exited the car, and entered through the service entrance straight into the kitchen.

Her mother was prepping a plate but smiled as she noticed Liliana. “
Mi’ja,
” she said and wrapped her arms around her daughter.

Liliana hugged her back hard and, after they separated, pointed to a bag on a nearby table. “I’m assuming that’s for me.”

Her mother pressed the paper bag into her hands. “I made some of my special
sopa de pollo
for your friend. To help him feel better.”

She grinned and shook her head. Her
mami
always thought food could cure most anything. “I know he’ll love it,” she replied and hugged her mother good-bye.

“I’ll be by tomorrow,” she tossed out as she paused to hug her father and then exited.

The Suburban waited in the lot, intimidating in the growing dark of the night.

She jumped back into the passenger seat, and the aromas of dinner quickly escaped the container, seasoning the air with the
enticing scents from the food her parents had prepared.

“It smells wonderful,” Jesse said and rubbed his flat midsection as if in anticipation of the meal.

She grinned back. “It is, and
Mami
even made some soup just for you.”

His brows knitted together. “Just for me? Why?”

“It’s super special. Sure to cure the common cold and an assortment of ailments.”

Jesse’s grin widened, bringing alive the engaging dimple to the side of his enticing lips. “I could use something like that
right now.”

She eased her hand back into his and squeezed gently. “You’ll feel better in no time.”

Jesse twined his fingers with hers, enjoying the repartee, with his guilt somewhat diminished. He hadn’t stolen the inhibitor,
which would displease Whittaker. But he hadn’t betrayed her trust.

At least not tonight.

They traveled in silent camaraderie for the remaining
few minutes to his home. Howard and Bruno were quick to urge them from the vehicle, with Bruno providing minimal assistance
to Jesse.

Jesse plopped into a chair by the kitchen table while Bruno, once again displaying his domestic abilities, laid out the placemats,
dishes, and cutlery. Howard assumed a place just beyond the table, hands held before him in that stereotypical cop pose.

She brought the plastic takeout trays to the table and uncovered them, releasing even more of the aromatic fragrances from
the dishes.

Enchiladas. Chicken in a rich mole sauce garnished with toasted pumpkin seeds. Neatly wrapped flautas topped with some
queso fresco.
Not to mention the chicken soup and a trio of side dishes. Refried beans, yellow rice, and ripe plantains drizzled with sour
cream and more
queso fresco.

“That looks and smells great,” Jesse replied as she grabbed a ladle Bruno had provided and spooned soup into his bowl.

“She and dad are great cooks. It’s made the restaurant a big success, only…”

Bruno sat beside Jesse and said, “Only what?”

“They had a fire some years back. Nearly put them out of business.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Bruno said, and a muffled cough erupted from Howard.

Bruno looked over at him. “Not joining us?”

“Ate already. You should watch what you eat,” Howard cautioned.

Bruno, who Liliana was beginning to suspect was not the brightest bulb, looked down at the slight bulge in
his midsection and then glared at Howard. “I’m not fat, man.”

Howard said nothing else, just remained in the pose, staring straight ahead as if the three of them were not sitting only
a few feet away. Unnerving, and in the back of her brain, it occurred to her that Howard’s earlier warning had to do with
more than the food.

Was he worried Bruno was getting too friendly with them? And what if he was? They weren’t criminals.

“Soup’s delicious,” Jesse said as he brought another spoonful up to his mouth.

“I’ll let
Mami
know.”

Jesse savored the richness of the dish and wondered if it was possible that the love it had been prepared with somehow made
it tastier. He hoped that one day he would be able to thank Liliana’s mother himself for the meal.

Probably unlikely, but then again, he had to have something to look forward to besides helping his sister. The latter still
seemed like a long shot, given everything happening with his body and the people with whom he was dealing. Although he had
agreed to assist Whittaker, he didn’t really trust he would keep his word. For that matter, he still wasn’t sure that he could
rely on Whittaker’s assertion that his sister was sick. But he would not let his doubts possibly endanger Jackie.

Spooning up more of the soup, he considered whether Liliana was a woman of her word, and the answer was immediate.

Yes.

Which made him consider whether telling Liliana the truth would help in any way. Whether it would abate his guilt about deceiving
her.

But as she sat beside him, quietly eating, he realized that if he told her the truth now and she wouldn’t play along with
him, he would be risking his sister’s well-being and possibly even Liliana’s life.

So instead, he finished off the bowl of soup and afterward felt amazingly recharged. “This
is
a cure,” he said, rubbing his hand across his stomach.

“There’s more,” she said and would have risen to remove the soup bowls, but Jesse stood instead.

“Let me.” He quickly cleared off the three bowls, and by the time he returned to the table, Liliana had served each of them
an assortment of the dishes.

As he watched Liliana, Jesse thought about how different she was from the women in his past. Women who had warmed his bed—but
not his heart, he reluctantly acknowledged—and who had all been alike. The same false smiles and equally plastic parts.

Unlike Liliana, he thought, shooting a glance out of the corner of his eye at her generous curves. Provided by nature, of
that he had no doubt. The comely doctor would likely not approve of enhancing herself physically, since she prized other,
more important traits.

Intelligence. Dedication. Honor.

In the short time they had spent together, he knew more about her than the many women who had passed through his life.

She faced him, her fork halfway to her mouth, and paused. A furrow developed in the middle of her forehead as she considered
him. “Is everything okay?”

He wanted to say that it wasn’t. That he had so much to tell her. That he needed to kiss her again and find satisfaction with
her like none he had experienced.

But the words failed him.

“Everything is fine. The food is… amazing. I’ve never had anything like it.”

“Me neither,” Bruno advised and pushed away from the table. He rose and gestured to Howard, who had remained silently passive
throughout their entire meal.

“You sure you don’t want some of this?” Bruno asked the other guard.

The distant rumble of the garage door opening snared Howard’s attention. “Whittaker’s here.”

Beside her, Liliana sensed the immediate tension that entered Jesse’s body, but before she could say anything, Howard barked
out an order.

“Bruno. Get Bradford settled upstairs. He probably needs some rest.”

Jesse pushed off abruptly from the table. “I think I can find the way to my own bedroom.”

He held out his hand to her.

She glanced at the three men, wondering at the hostility she sensed among them. Footsteps sounded in the hall, approaching
briskly, and a moment later, Whittaker appeared at the far door to the kitchen.

He jammed his hands on his hips, which pulled back his suit jacket, revealing the double holster beneath with the menacing
grips of his gun.

He arched a brow and asked, “Something wrong?”

T
ired. I’m going upstairs to rest,” Jesse replied, and before Whittaker could protest that statement, Jesse was in motion,
leaving the room—and her—behind.

Whittaker glared at her. “How did the treatment go?”

“It drained him physically, but I’m hopeful that the samples we took after the therapy will show a reduction in the bone-morphogenic
proteins in his blood.”

“What about his marrow? When will you test the inhibitor?” Whittaker snapped.

Liliana rose from the table, intending to follow Jesse as soon as she could finish with the FBI agent’s questioning. “Dr.
Rojas should still be at the lab, cloning the marrow specimens so that we have enough material—”

“And when will that be?” Whittaker barked.

Anger ground through her at his attitude. She wasn’t one of his men he could order around or a criminal he was trying to intimidate.
Which made her wonder yet again why it was that Jesse was being treated like a prisoner.

“Special Agent Whittaker. I assure you that we are working as quickly as possible and in accordance with accepted protocols.”

He didn’t miss the chill rebuke in her tone. With an
exasperated sigh, he ran his fingers over his buzz cut and shook his head. “I understand.”

Liliana supposed that was about as close to an apology as she would ever get from the taciturn agent.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to check on Jesse one last time before heading home.”

She left Whittaker staring at his two men. He waited until he could hear her footsteps on the stairs and then questioned them.

“Did Bradford get the inhibitor?”

A puzzled look came to Bruno’s face, but Howard quickly answered, “He went for it but then chickened out.”

“Damn,” Whittaker cursed.

“Not to worry, boss,” Howard replied, reached into his suit jacket pocket, and pulled out two test tubes.

“The inhibitor?” Whittaker questioned and waggled his fingers for the tubes.

“Yes, sir. When Bradford failed to fulfill his mission, I stepped in,” Howard said as he placed them in his boss’s hand.

Whittaker held the test tubes up to the light. They were filled with clear liquid. Hopefully enough for Morales and Edwards
to not only use on the patients, but to analyze and synthesize more.

“Did they see you take them?” he asked as he pocketed the medication.

Howard shook his head. “No, and I don’t think they’ll notice that they’re gone. Bradford knocked over the racks and quite
a few of the tubes broke.”

“There was glass all over the place,” Bruno jumped in, but Howard shot him a dirty look.

“No thanks to you. I think we have a problem with Bruno. He’s getting a little too friendly with Bradford and the doctors,”
Howard warned.

Whittaker glared at his other man, who squirmed beneath his observation.

“I know what I have to do, boss. Just say the word and they’re all history,” Bruno replied, a whiny tone weeding through his
words.

“For now, keep things normal. Even let Bradford out and about, as long as you keep an eye on him. Dr. Carrera is already uneasy,
and we must not let her think there’s anything unusual going on.”

Whittaker raised his hand, crooked his forefinger at Howard. “Come with me. I may need assistance at our other location.”

Whittaker shot a withering glare at Bruno. “Make sure Bradford is tucked in for the night and that Dr. Carrera is satisfied
that all is in order.”

“Yes, sir,” Bruno replied, mimicking Howard’s earlier tone. Not that it would help, Whittaker thought. Bruno came from the
streets and lacked the spit and polish Howard had acquired from his many years of serving beside him in the military. Whittaker
would trust Howard with his life, and as for Bruno…

He was as expendable as the people he was guarding.

“We’ll check back later,” Whittaker said and exited with Howard.

Bruno watched them go, an unsettling feeling in his gut. He didn’t much like the way either of the two men treated him, as
if he was inferior. And despite his assertion that he’d kill either Bradford or the doc without hesitation, well…

He wasn’t quite sure it would be all that easy to do, not that he hadn’t disposed of his share of miscreants in the past when
it was necessary. But the doctor and Bradford were different.

Different, but still dead meat as far as Whittaker was concerned.

With that in mind, he hurried upstairs to make sure all was in order as Whittaker had instructed.

Liliana listened to the beat of Jesse’s pulse and glanced at the pressure gauge. Perfectly normal, which brought a smile to
her face.

“Everything is fine,” she said, completing the exam.

“And
I
feel fine,” he said, trying to relieve her of any concerns after the little spell he had faked back at the lab.

“Glad to hear that.” She was just putting away the blood-pressure device when Bruno appeared in the doorway, a stern and yet
almost comical look on his face.

“Something wrong?” she asked.

“Just wanted to make sure everything was okay up here,” Bruno replied and glanced between the two of them.

“Everything’s okay, thanks. I won’t be much longer,” she answered. Although she was done with her assessment, she wasn’t quite
ready to leave Jesse for the night.

Bruno turned his attention to Jesse, who said, “Could you please see the doctor to her car after she’s done?”

“Sure thing, Jesse. I’ll give you two a little time alone,” he said and, with a conspiratorial wink, closed the door behind
him.

“He’s not your typical FBI agent, is he?” Liliana asked, both amused and puzzled by Bruno’s behavior.

“Maybe he got pistol-whipped once too often,” Jesse teased, leaning back into the pillows, although his gaze never wavered
from her face.

His too-earnest attention was a little disconcerting, and she averted her gaze as she put everything back into her medical
bag. She zipped it shut and was about to rise when Jesse lovingly placed his hand on her arm.