Page 36 of Wicked Suspicion

Ten minutes. No second guard.

Case got into position near the door. If he’d missed a camera, he wouldn’t get far, but he was taking his chance.

He reached for the lock, soundlessly opened it and waited.

Slipping outside when it was clear, he closed the door behind him and eased into the corner of the house. The instant the guard appeared, Case acted. Landing a hard fist to the man’s temple, he knocked him out and dragged him into the suite.

When he had the guy trussed up and stripped of weapons, he donned the shoulder holster over his T-shirt, tugged on the baseball cap and the backpack, and slung the strap of the M4 across his shoulder. There wasn’t a lot of outdoor lighting, not near the suite, and it was nearly dark. He should be able to pass as one of the mercenaries hired by Vargas.

Case went outside and patrolled like the guard while he checked out the situation. Everything remained quiet. No one was paying any attention to the balcony.

There were no stairs on this side of the house, so he climbed over the railing. Hanging on to the wrought iron he lowered himself far enough to drop onto the small patch of grass below. Staying in the shadows, Case began searching for Nyx.

Getting her over the wall and off the property? That would take a diversion, a large one, but after he had his Fireball safely at his side, he’d find Oz and have his teammate contact the Big Dog.

No matter what it took, Nyx wasn’t spending one more night here.

Chapter 16

Nyx didn’t know anymore when she exited the limo than she had when she’d entered it. She stood in front of a neoclassical mansion lit up brighter than a star going supernova, her arm threaded through the drug lord’s, and tried to make sense of things.

The circular drive was filled with limos. There was a line behind them waiting to drop off their passengers, while the ones in front of theirs were slowly driving away. In the center of the circle, there was a fountain with a bronze statue in the style of ancient Athens. Water gently cascaded, making a pleasant, relaxing sound, but her nerves were pulled too tight to appreciate it properly.

“I’m your date?” she asked, careful to keep her tone neutral.

Voice soft, the drug lord warned, “Tonight, you are not to contradict me, argue with me, or disagree with anything I say. Am I clear?”

“Understood,” Nyx said, although nothing was clear to her. Was she supposed to be some kind of gold-digging trophy girlfriend who only kissed ass? Vargas hadn’t answered any of the questions she’d put to him during the drive from his hacienda to here. She was floundering as to what he wanted from her—aside from agreeableness.

She didn’t like feeling uncertain, but she was in over her head and had been since she was captured. At least at the hacienda she’d been able to rely on Case. Nyx wished he was here with her now.

“Shall we?” Vargas said, indicating the entrance.

Reluctantly, Nyx moved. It wasn’t only being on a date with a drug kingpin that had her off balance. She’d grown up an Army brat and now she was a grad student. Formal parties weren’t part of her lifestyle. Sure, the Paladin League had fundraisers for the rich and famous, but as a contractor, she’d never been asked to attend. How was she supposed to behave?

Vargas—no, Julián. She had to start thinking of him as Julián or she’d mess up. She didn’t want to face his wrath over something so easy to avoid. Julián paused while she gathered her skirt with her free hand and then they ascended the two shallow steps to the front door. His tuxedoed bodyguards trailed them.

The foyer soared two stories and a curved staircase led to the second level. Carved wood and an ornate wrought-iron railing made it a showpiece. Parquet flooring stretched as far as she could see. There was a line, and Varg—Julián steered her to the end of it. Nyx decided it must be a receiving line like at weddings, but who were they greeting? The event’s hosts?

The queue was surprisingly silent. Weren’t lines at parties normally social? Or were things different in this financial class?

They weren’t moving quickly and Nyx looked around, trying to be subtle about it. There were quite a few bodyguards in attendance. Then she stiffened. Up ahead were members of the presidential brigade. Not only were they Puerto Jardin’s special forces, but they also acted as their version of the Secret Service.

She glanced up at Varg—Julián, but he ignored her. As they neared the head of the line, Nyx stiffened.

President Cardozo and his wife.

Adrián Cardozo was one of the most corrupt leaders Puerto Jardin had ever been cursed with and they’d had more than their fair share.

Julián tightened his arm, bringing her arm closer to his body. When he had her attention, he issued a quiet warning. “Watch your facial expression. You will be delighted tonight.”

Nyx nodded and tried to appear neutral. Delighted was beyond her acting abilities. Cardozo and men like him were the reason life was hard for all except the elite in Puerto Jardin. They lined their pockets with the aid money sent by the US and left the people it should have helped to fend for themselves.

“Do better,” he hissed softly.

“I’m trying,” she said and worked harder at hiding her distaste. She must have succeeded because the tension in his arm eased.

They reached the head of the line.

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