Against The Night Part 20

"She's not my lady, just a real nice girl who needed help." Johnnie tried not to think of Angel onstage or Amy in his bed. Nice was far too bland a word.

"You said she was a kindergarten teacher?" Clive added, tipping back his beer. "Not exactly your usual style."

No, but then you haven't seen her dance. "I'm just trying to do her a favor."

"Oh, yeah," Dev said, "I could see that when you looked at her like she was little red riding hood and you were the big bad wolf."

Clive grinned. "Yeah, like you were about to self-combust."

Johnnie grunted. "Very funny."

He was grateful when Dev took a breath and brought the conversation back to business. "So we're all on the same page. I'll be working on this, and you guys provide backup if I need it."

"I've got a man who can do some checking," Johnnie said. "Name's Tyler Brodie. Former marine. Not long on experience at this kind of thing, but useful. Kid has a way of coming up with information. I'll have him give you a call."

"Sounds good."

"We're set then," Clive said, coming to his feet.

"If I decide to leave town I'll let you know," Johnnie added, figuring he'd be back from Belize by the time Dev's info had all come together.

Now that their business was finished, Johnnie followed the men back into the kitchen. Dev's brilliant blue eyes went straight to Lark, ran over her as if he couldn't wait for the rest of them to leave so he could haul her off to bed. Clive smiled at his pregnant little Molly with the sappiest, proudest expression Johnnie had ever seen.

Johnnie told himself the only thing his eyes revealed when he looked at Amy was a strong dose of l.u.s.t.

And prayed to G.o.d it was the truth.

Darkness hovered above the bright glow of lights along the Sunset Strip. Johnnie sat in a rawhide chair in the bar at Cisco's Cantina, listening to the sound of trumpets blasting out a spicy Mexican tune.

At this late hour, the crowd had faded to a few remaining tables. He ordered a beer and quietly waited for Special Agent Kent Wheeler. He was hoping to get something, some crumb of information that might confirm or deny Carlos or Manny Ortega's involvement with Rachael Brewer.

All day, he'd been working one case or another. Ty had found the info they needed to close the insurance fraud case, a fireman who was golfing and playing football with his buddies while he collected disability payments, supposedly in far too much pain to work. But Ty hadn't found anything more on Rachael's movements around the city.

Instead, Johnnie put him to work trying to come up with a location for the chop shop Dev was searching for that was rebuilding expensive stolen cars.

"If you find them," Johnnie had said to Ty, "whatever you do don't try to get inside. Just give me the info and back off. We've got a team put together to deal with it once we have what we need."

"Okay, but I want in," Ty said. "I know how to follow orders, and I'm good."

The kid still had the marine gung ho gleam in his eyes. Might be interesting to give him a try.

"I'll think about it," Johnnie said. "You just find out where they're working on those cars."

After his meeting with Ty, he'd called Wheeler and told him he was looking for information on the Ortegas. Wheeler had called back to set up a meet. During the day, Johnnie had been in and out of his home office at least three times. He didn't like to think how hard it was to stay away from Amy, who was watching TV right upstairs, force himself to think about work and not spend the day in bed with her.

Since it was her last day off, she had used the exercise equipment in his gym-warming up, she said, for the round of self-defense techniques he planned to show her. Then she'd made coffee for Ellie, who had blatantly shown up at his door, probably to give Amy another once-over. He had a bad feeling about that. The women would likely get along a little too well, which could lead to serious trouble for him.

At least Amy wasn't down at the club being Angel, asking dangerous questions, strutting around without her clothes and flaunting her luscious little body.

And she would be waiting for him when he got home from his meeting with Wheeler-something he shouldn't be grinning about, but stupidly was.

The music in the cantina changed tempo, increased to a hot salsa beat, drawing him back to the moment. Across the room, he spotted Kent Wheeler's slim frame walking toward him.

Wheeler sat down across from him, the silver in his thinning brown hair glinting in the light of the candle on the table. "I've got something for you. Not much. I figure I owe you after the tip you gave me on that s.h.i.+pment into San Pedro."

"How'd that pan out? Didn't see anything about a bust in the papers."

"We were there. The s.h.i.+pment came in just like your guy said, but there was nothing in the containers. They knew we were coming."

"You got a leak then?"

"Looks that way. Could have been some other problem."

A c.o.c.ktail waitress appeared. Johnnie's Bud was nearly full. Wheeler pa.s.sed, and the waitress disappeared.

"What about Pandaro?" Johnnie asked. He was the errant husband Ty had been following who turned out to be involved with the San Dimas cartel.

"He's disappeared off the map."

"Not good."

"No, it isn't."

"So what about Ortega's connection to Rachael Brewer?" The question he was meeting Wheeler to ask.

"I've heard the same rumors you have. Manny was supposed to be seeing her, but there isn't any proof. He denies it, and he has a solid alibi for the night the girl disappeared."

"Doing what?"

"Working at the Vieux Carre. A dozen people saw him that night."

"Or he paid a dozen people to say they saw him."

"Either way..."

"Where is he now?"

"No one seems to know. He isn't in town, though. His condo's empty. Supposed to be back the end of the week."

Nothing new there.

Johnnie took a swig of his beer. "I've been following a lead that puts Rachael on Ortega's jet to Belize two days after her disappearance from the Kitty Cat Club. Nothing solid yet. You keep pretty close tabs on Ortega. Got anything that might confirm it?"

"According to our sources, the jet made a trip to Belize on May 2. Ortega's got a villa in the southern part of the country, big, well guarded. We know a woman was on the plane. We know the jet arrived in Belize City. No idea of the ident.i.ty of the female pa.s.senger or where the pa.s.sengers went after the jet landed."

Johnnie raked his hands through his hair. He thought of Amy and her missing sister and a knot tightened in his belly. "What about the return? Did the woman come back on the plane?"

"According to the flight plan, the jet returned from Belize nonstop to Ensenada. Reported three pa.s.sengers aboard. We don't know who they were."

"So they could have left her in Belize."

"If they did, she's in more trouble than Pandaro."

"If she's still alive."

"Yeah."

Johnnie blew out a breath. "Looks like I'm going to Belize."

"I can put you in touch with someone there. A local we work with. Nathan Dietz can get you where you need to go and anything else you need. Best I can do."

"That'd be great."

Wheeler stood up. "Keep us posted, will you?"

"You know it." Johnnie watched him turn and walk away, dreading the confrontation he was about to have with Amy.

She'd want to go with him and he wasn't about to take her. He wished she didn't know he was meeting with Wheeler. He'd rather tell her the bad news after he took her to bed.

Which likely wouldn't happen once she knew she would be staying in L.A.

Nineteen.

Sitting in the living room waiting for Johnnie, mostly staring out at the lights of the city, Amy finally gave up and headed down the hall to his bedroom. She took her time changing out of the tight jeans, crop top and heels she'd put on earlier, wanting to look good for him, and instead slipped into one of his Ranger T-s.h.i.+rts.

It was well past midnight, but as she slipped beneath the covers of his bed, she wasn't the least bit sleepy. Sometime tonight, Johnnie would be talking to a drug enforcement agent and that agent might have news about Rachael. As it got later and Johnnie didn't come home, her nerves grew more and more taut and kept her on edge. She was dying to know what he had found out about Rachael. He might even have learned something that would tell them whether her sister was alive or dead.

But Johnnie was a night person. He worked late hours and had warned her he probably wouldn't be home until the bars closed.

She glanced at the clock. One in the morning. She was beginning to feel a little drowsy. Maybe if she closed her eyes, she would fall asleep. If she did, she knew Johnnie would wake her when he climbed into bed.

The thought made her pulse kick up. All she had to do was think of that strong male body and she was hot for him. It was kind of amazing, considering she had never felt that way about a man before.

She yawned as she reached over to turn off the light on the bedside table, heard the sound of the front door opening, and paused. The thud of heavy boots coming down the hall had her sitting up in bed, swinging her legs to the edge of the mattress.

"Johnnie?" she called, though she was already so aware of him she recognized the cadence of his footsteps.

"It's me," he answered, stepping into the room.

Amy shot out of bed and hurried toward him. "Did you meet with Wheeler? What did he say?"

Johnnie rubbed his forehead. "He didn't have much. He knew about the plane trip to Belize. He said there was a woman aboard."

Amy's stomach knotted. "So Rachael was one of the pa.s.sengers."

"Could be. Or, could be any other woman in L.A."

"But the timing...everything fits. Did...did he say if the woman returned?"

"Said he didn't know."

Amy gripped his arm. "She could be down there, Johnnie. My sister could be in Belize. I have to go, see if anyone there has seen her."

Johnnie gently caught her shoulders. "I'll go. I'll get a plane out tomorrow if I can. Wheeler gave me the name of a contact, someone who can help me while I'm there. I'll go down, ask around, see if I can find anything that will prove she was actually in Belize."

Amy felt a rush of relief. "We need to get on the internet, book some airline tickets. I'll pay, of course. The pay at the club isn't much but my tips have been terrific."

His eyes darkened. "I'll bet."

"So we're leaving tomorrow?"

Johnnie shook his head. "You can't go with me, baby. The places I'll be going aren't places you'd want to be. Let me handle this for you."

She studied his ruggedly handsome face. He was planning to leave her home-she couldn't believe it. "I can't stay here and do nothing. Rachael's my sister. I need to be there."

"It's too dangerous. And we don't know for sure your sister was ever there."

Anger began to churn in her stomach. "I'm going. Don't even think you're leaving me here. If Rachael's in Belize, she would have called if she could. That she hasn't means she's in some kind of trouble. Which means if we find her, she's going to need me."

"All right, I'll go down first, find out what I can. If the information looks promising, you can join me."

Her expression went from stubborn to mutinous. "I'm going."

Johnnie's grip on her shoulders tightened. "d.a.m.n it, you're staying right here! If Rachael was on that plane, she was somehow involved with Ortega. If that's true, then she was playing with fire. The man is a ruthless, conscienceless animal. I won't let you get into something that might just get you killed!"

Amy worked to rein in her temper. Arguing wasn't going to sway him. She would do what she had to, what she had come to Los Angeles to do.

She was going to Belize-one way or another.

They went to bed angry, lying on the mattress with their backs to each other, the clock ticking off the seconds, both of them wide-awake.

An hour later, Amy rolled onto her back and looked up at the ceiling. "In our family my dad and mom had a rule."

"Yeah, what's that?" Johnnie growled from the other side of the bed.

"They never went to bed angry. They might argue again in the morning, but at night, they were together. It worked great for almost thirty years."

Johnnie rolled over beside her. "Amy, I just don't want you getting hurt."

"I know."

He ran a finger along her cheek. "I missed you tonight."