The Fifth Kingdom (10 page)

“Two of my men were killed yesterday when they visited your daughter,” Javier advised, his anger contained…for now.

“My daughter is just a history professor. I don’t think she is capable of killing your men,” Miranda countered, worried about whether Deanna had been injured during the incident.

“The police report says my men were shot by the police during an attempted mugging of your daughter,” Javier continued and pounded a fist into his palm as he began to pace back and forth in the small space.

“You don’t believe that?” she asked just to confirm, although it was obvious from his demeanor.

“My men would have known better than to grab her in front of the police. But even if they had, they were better armed than your average policeman,” he said, continuing to pound and pace.

“I wouldn’t call New York City cops average,” she countered and paid for it. Javier grabbed her by the throat and drove her against the wall. The rough cinder block grated against her back, scratching her skin through the thin fabric of her shirt.

Shoving his face close to hers, Javier said, “You warned her somehow. She must have had other protection to be able to kill my men.”

“I’ve had no contact with anyone,” she rasped barely able to breathe from the pressure he was exerting on her throat.

He released her by tossing her against the wall once again. Her head rebounded against the cinder block with a loud thud and the impact disoriented her. She splayed her hands on the coarse surface, seeking purchase as the room spun from the blow and her knees slowly crumpled.

“We will grab her, Miranda. Count on that. Maybe then you’ll be more willing to tell us about the tomb and what’s in it.”

He didn’t wait for her answer, barging out of the room with the same bluster and violence with which he’d entered.

Miranda sank down to the cold cement floor, her head still reeling from the impact with the wall. Her body quaking with fear that Javier would make good on this threat and grab Deanna. Miranda could deal with whatever they wanted to do to her, but she knew she would not be able to handle anyone hurting her daughter.

She’d already done enough of that herself.

Curling up into a fetal position in the corner, she prayed that Javier was right. That her daughter had found someone to protect her. Someone who could keep her safe from the crazies in this Primera Mexica cell.

Maybe that person could also help her escape this ongoing nightmare and help her protect the tomb.

She could not let such a find fall into the hands of the wrong people. Primera Mexico could use it to grab attention for themselves and further their cause. Worse yet, they could sell the relic for big money to a private collector. Enough money to pay for more weapons to spread their violence.

She would not let that happen.

The five-star hotel was situated along Paseo de la Reforma, close to the United States Embassy and near Chapultepec Park. The area was filled with dozens of tourist attractions, luxurious hotels and restaurants in addition to ultramodern office buildings and several other embassies.

Deanna loved the location. If circumstances had been different, she would have enjoyed a walk through some of her favorite spots in the park. As for the hotel itself, high-end luxury was not what she normally indulged in. A uniformed bellhop opened the door for them as they entered a lobby lined with gleaming marble, furniture with dark polished woods and lush fabrics, and sophisticated artwork. The oak-and-granite check-in desk was discreetly tucked into an alcove along one wall.

She stood beside Bill as he checked them in, nervously rubbing the gleaming diamond engagement ring on her finger, part of the cover to explain Bill’s presence with her.

“Your suite has a wonderful Paseo view. Feel free to enjoy the hotel’s many amenities. If you need anything during your stay, please let us know,” the hotel clerk indicated as she handed Bill the folder with the key cards and hotel information.

“
Gracias
. My fiancée and I are certain we will enjoy our visit,” Bill said. For good measure, he eased his arm around her waist, drew her close and dropped a kiss along her cheek.

Playing it up, she laid her right hand with the very large diamond ring on his chest and almost cooed, “We will definitely enjoy our time here.”

Bill chuckled and guided her to the elevator, the bellman following with their bags, including Deanna’s well-traveled knapsack, which looked incongruous with the other expensive luggage Bill’s people had provided that morning to bolster their roles as a high-powered oil equipment executive and his pampered fiancée. But she never went on any trip without those essentials and she certainly would not leave them behind now. It was very possible they’d have to head into the Mexican countryside based on the vague descriptions in Miranda’s journal regarding the site of the tomb and she wanted to be prepared.

As the door opened into the suite, Deanna barely contained her gasp at the beauty of the room and the gorgeous views of the Paseo and park.

Bill wrapped his arms around her waist in a hug. “So glad you like it,
mi amor
.”

“Love it,
querido
,” she replied, reaching up over her shoulder to caress his cheek.

The bellhop smiled as he took
all
their bags into the bedroom, but Deanna was suddenly worrying about just how far Bill planned to take their ruse. A moment later, he leaned close and whispered, “Not to worry.”

She took him at his word. He had been nothing but honest up until now.

After their bags were settled and the bellboy attended to, Bill returned to the living room of the suite and gestured to the large sectional. “I’ll take the sofa tonight.”

Even though the immense sofa boasted plump cushions, she couldn’t imagine that with his large frame he’d be comfortable. But she also wanted to delay the discussion for the moment, knowing there were more pressing matters.

“We can decide on that later.” She laid her purse on the coffee table and walked to the windows, loving the views of the city.

He came to stand beside her and murmured, “Beautiful.”

She shot him a look from the corner of her eye and realized he was only half referring to the vista. “Have you been here before?”

“Only once. My previous assignments were mostly in Europe.”

“That’s where I had planned on going this summer. I was going to just pack my bags and explore the countryside. Some castles. Whatever came my way,” she said.

“Maybe you’ll still be able to do that once we’re done here.”

She was tempted to ask him if he might help her out with some suggestions, or possibly even go with her, but bit her tongue.

“What time are we expected at the embassy?” she asked instead, glancing at her watch.

“The intelligence attaché will receive us at four, so we have about two hours to kill. Feel like a walk to stretch out your legs after that airplane ride?”

“That would be great. It’s Sunday and the vendors are out along the paths in the park. See,” she said and pointed to the gaps in the trees where it was possible to see an assortment of small kiosks and pedestrians as they strolled through the gardens.

“I just need to get a few things and then we can go.”

He walked away and she admired his stride, all broad-shouldered and lean-hipped masculine swagger. His jeans molded perfectly to his ass and then his body flared upward in a V to those immense shoulders beneath the looser fabric of his polo shirt. She heard the rasp of a zipper on the bag and some noise as he rummaged through the contents. When he returned to the room, he sported his dark blue Windbreaker and the slight bulge that confirmed he had armed himself.

The reminder chilled some of her earlier joy in exploring the park.

“Ready?” he asked, zipping up the jacket halfway.

“I can see you are,” she said as she turned from him and grabbed her purse.

With a nonchalant shrug, he replied, “Always be prepared.”

Deanna had a similar motto, but her idea of preparedness didn’t include deadly force. With a nod, she walked out of the room with Bill behind her, his hand resting possessively on the small of her back.

The pressure of it was light, but unmistakable, a constant reminder that he had her welfare in mind. Comforting, and yet she couldn’t shake the worry that his protection was even necessary. That her mother—Miranda—was responsible for this danger also.

Purging her mind of those troubling thoughts, she tried to recapture the sense of joyous anticipation from moments earlier.

As they walked out of the hotel and through the pristine gardens, the bright sunny day abated her mood somewhat. Once on the street, they strolled across the normally busy Paseo de la Reforma. Today the street was closed and the vehicular traffic had been replaced by pedestrians and bicyclists enjoying a Sunday afternoon.

They entered Chapultepec Park and began their stroll, winding their way through the paths and the many kiosks and stalls lining the trails in the park. Occasionally they stopped to pick up a few things to munch on, candy-covered nuts and some salty
pepitas
. They ate the nuts and pumpkin seeds as they ambled along the footpaths and Deanna explained about the history of the park, but also something more important.

“The National Museum of Anthropology is at the other end of the park. It’s where the Aztec Sun Stone is located.”

“Maybe we’ll have time to scope it out later,” he indicated as they doubled back to the hotel where they grabbed a cab for the short drive to the embassy, which was also nearby on the boulevard.

The Marine sentries at the door immediately became alert as they approached, clearly recognizing that Bill might be armed and therefore dangerous. Bill raised his hands. “Let me get my ID.”

He carefully unzipped his jacket and then with one hand, reached in and withdrew his ID wallet. The Marines immediately relaxed their stances and waved them through the doors of the embassy.

Inside they were quickly shown to the private office of the intelligence attaché with whom Bill had corresponded via secure email. The man rose from his desk as they entered and walked around to greet them.

“Dr. Vasquez,” he said and offered his hand, an appreciative smile on his face that Bill didn’t much care for. Especially when the attaché covered Deanna’s hand with his own and held it for a little bit longer than Bill thought necessary.

“Mr. Rubio,” he said, drawing the man’s attention.

“Of course, Special Agent Santana,” Rubio said, shaking Bill’s hand and then gesturing to the two chairs before his desk.

Once he was seated behind his desk again, Rubio shifted around some papers before him until he reached a slightly thicker folder. He flipped through the file for a moment before closing it and handing it over to Bill.

“We’ve gathered some additional intelligence on Lopez. We’ve also arranged for the two of you to attend a gala later tonight. I know it’s short notice, but we only just discovered that Lopez is supposed to attend the event also.”

Bill examined the first few pages in the file. He snuck a peek at Deanna. “It’s a formal gala at the anthropological museum. Are you up for it?”

Deanna tossed her hands up in the air. “The faster we meet Lopez, the faster we find Miranda, right?”

It was impossible not to hear the eagerness in her voice and the gleam in her eyes. Bill understood. The sooner they found Miranda, the sooner Deanna could be back to her normal life. Maybe on her way to Europe for that adventure she had mentioned.

Facing the attaché, he said, “Will you arrange for secure transport to and from the museum tonight?”

“I’ll have an embassy car waiting for you at eight at the hotel. Is that enough time for you to get ready?”

With another quick look at Deanna, who nodded, he confirmed it. “We’ll expect the car at eight.”

Deanna had insisted on privacy while she went shopping for a gown at the boutique in the hotel lobby. He had acquiesced to her request, quickly selecting a tuxedo for himself while keeping a keen eye on everyone coming and going from the store where Deanna was trying on dresses. Although he doubted that Primera Mexica was aware that Deanna was in Mexico City, he couldn’t let down his guard. And if they were able to make contact with Lopez tonight, he would not be able to leave Deanna unguarded for even a second in the future. He appreciated she might not care for the constant contact with him, but it would be necessary.

Up in the suite, they sat down on the sofa and went over the notes on Lopez and his many interests as well as the information they had on his connections to PM. Then they ran over the facts relating to Bill’s role as an executive for a company that sold equipment to oil companies. After an hour of rehearsing and prepping for any possible questions that Lopez might ask, it was time to get ready for the gala.

Bill showered first and then wrapped himself in one of the thick terry cloth robes to allow Deanna the use of the bath and bedroom.

As he dressed, he caught sight of his reflection in the glass of the windows in the suite. The bruise along his ribs was a startling deep purple against the olive tones of his skin. He glanced down at his side and ran his hand along the injury. It was still sensitive to the touch, but not as uncomfortable as it had been the night before. Deanna’s lotion had worked wonders to lessen the pain.

Shrugging off the robe, he dressed in the monkey suit he had bought just a couple of hours before. The cotton of the shirt was smoothly expensive against his shoulders as he slipped it on. The designer tux, shoes and accessories had cost a small fortune in the boutique, but they’d had little choice given the lack of time.

He had just finished pulling on the jacket and had his hands on the lapels, straightening it out when she walked out of the bedroom.

The sight of her struck him harder than the bullet that had slammed into his vest, punching all the air out of his lungs.

Sinfully smooth satin, the color of a fine Merlot draped every luxuriously lush curve of her toned body. She had swept up her hair into some kind of ‘do, exposing the elegant line of her neck.
So much perfect creamy skin
, he thought, wondering how it might feel. Loose tendrils in seemingly casual disarray around her face highlighted her high cheekbones and hazel-green eyes exotically lined with thick lashes. A smile quirked onto her lips at his perusal, but then she did a little looking of her own.

Her gaze swept up and down his body, then locked with his as a burst of color heated her cheeks. “You’re not armed?”

He strode to her and laid his hand on her waist, the fabric smooth beneath his palm, although he imagined that the skin beneath would be flawless and far more silky.

Reaching down, he took hold of her hand and brought it around to the small of his back. “Tux was too fitted, but I’m still ready.”

His action dragged their bodies closer and as Deanna felt the solid bulk of the gun beneath her hand, there was another hardness she couldn’t fail to notice along her belly. “I can see that,” she teased, but pulled away, both flattered and disturbed by his reaction.

“I’m sorry. That won’t happen again,” he said and coughed uncomfortably.

She shook her head, a little annoyed with herself for trying to ignore the elephant in the room. So she didn’t. “We’re two consenting adults who know the rules.”

A hard look crept into his eyes. “The rules? Do you suppose you could lay them out for me, just to make sure I understand ‘the rules’?”

“No emotions. No attachments. No tiptoeing around each other as if we don’t both like what we see,” Deanna replied and with a wave of her hand, gestured up and down his body.

“A very clinical analysis, Dr. Vasquez,” he said, but then with a nod of his head, he added, “But certainly something to be considered. Shall we go?”

He bent slightly, as if bowing, and offered her his arm. She slipped her arm through his and together they walked out of the suite. Throughout the trip down to the lobby and out to the limo waiting for them, he played the role of the solicitous fiancé, but when they were seated within the car, he grew remote. Almost detached and she wondered at the reason for it.