Page 26 of Wicked Suspicion

But Nyx was the one out of the room. She was the one who found the phone. Was she supposed to let the opportunity slip away because Lurch wasn’t there to send the text?

She was pretty confident about what his answer to that would be, and her chin went up.

Shit. She’d been so worried about an imaginary argument that she’d forgotten something basic. Recon the location. She should have been memorizing the route through the hacienda.

Lurch would have made note of their route when they’d been brought to the suite, but the more intel they had, the better. Nyx worked on nailing down the turns they took, and how many feet between them. It was a large hacienda.

She wondered if Lurch already had the layout of the estate. If his assignment involved Vargas, the intel reports he read before inserting would likely have included a blueprint. Since he was meeting the drug lord at the ruins, his op might be to shut down the flow of illegal narcotics. Nyx kept track of the route anyway. It was stupid to make assumptions.

The guard gestured for her to climb the stairs, and then he indicated she turn right. She knew which room was theirs. The two armed men standing on either side of it was a dead giveaway. As they neared, the men came to attention, suggesting that her escort had rank over them.

It might mean nothing, but maybe they could use that somehow.

One of them opened the door for her. When she hesitated, her watchdog shoved her inside. Nyx stumbled over the threshold.

Lurch strode toward her, but stopped abruptly, raising his hands to shoulder-height. She didn’t need to glance behind her to know that someone had pointed a weapon at him. Maybe at her, too.

Without another word being spoken, the door closed, and she heard the lock turn. She was back in her prison, and her cellmate looked pissed.

Case watched Nyx flail. She steadied herself before he could reach her and he came to a stop, two assault rifles and a pistol aimed at his chest encouraging the decision. He raised his hands, showing he had no plans to attack, but they appeared wary. It wasn’t a surprise. He was furious over the way she was shoved and couldn’t manage a neutral expression.

He wanted to check her over, make sure she was unhurt, but he kept his eyes on the three men. They were the threat.

As soon as the door closed, Case turned his attention to Nyx. She appeared uninjured, but he went to her, gently clasping her shoulders, and asked, “Are you all right?”

Her lips wobbled as she nodded and he pulled her against his chest, wrapping his arms around her, and rocking. To his surprise, she hugged him back, holding on fiercely. It restoked his anger. Nyx was no one’s pushover, and those assholes had scared her enough to leave her clinging to him. Corralling his temper, Case made soothing noises and pressed a kiss onto the top of her head. He didn’t stop until her grip let up.

With one last hug, he eased her back. More calmly than he had earlier, Case asked, “Are you okay?”

“Yes. They didn’t do anything to me.” Nyx stayed in the circle of his arms, her hands resting loosely at his waist.

“Where have you been all day?”

“Señor Vargas gave me a research project.”

“Explain,” he ordered. Her lips thinned, probably over his tone, but she didn’t pull away.

“He learned that I worked for the Paladin League. Señor Vargas was aware I was assigned to search for the Lost Treasure and he was curious about what you knew. I told him you didn’t believe in chasing shadows and probably didn’t know much about the treasure.”

Case’s lips curved. Damn, he liked her. She was smart enough to convey the information he needed without giving anything away and she’d provided him with an opening to ask the question he needed answered. “Refresh my memory on this treasure.”

Her smile almost looked real. “I knew you weren’t listening when I told you about it.”

“Fireball, I always listen to you. I just don’t always retain everything you tell me. Come on, remind me about this missing treasure.”

She nodded. “In 1820, the revolutionaries were closing in on Trujillo. The Spanish viceroy packed up everything he could get his hands on—jewels, gold, artwork, and other valuables—loaded it all on an English ship with guards and sent it to Spain.”

“An English ship? My degree might be in math, but I thought England and Spain fought wars against each other.”

Nyx caught the piece of personal intel he slipped her. He saw it in the slight change of her expression, but she didn’t comment. “You’re not wrong, but the viceroy wanted the goods out of Puerto Jardin before the country fell out of his control and the Spanish ships were full. He paid the English captain an impressive sum, had the treasure transported from Trujillo to the port, and sent soldiers to ensure the English didn’t steal anything.”

“But that didn’t work.”

Shaking her head, Nyx said, “No. The English crew killed the Spaniards and stole the treasure. They were hunted down. The crew was tortured for information and then put to death. The captain and his first mate were spared to recover the treasure, but they escaped instead. When they were recaptured in 1821, both men were executed.”

“And the treasure was never found?”

“That’s the story. People have hunted for it for two hundred years.”

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