Page 19 of Liaising Kai

“What is that supposed to mean?” he asked, allowing her to enter the elevator ahead of him like a gentleman. The doors closed and she felt caged, even though he wasn’t even touching her. The air always felt like it was alive when she was next to him.

“You know what it means, Davis. We’re both adults.” His laugh was rich, and deep, and so incredibly sexy that she braced her hand on the rail next to her. She gave him a sidelong glance. “We’re both on edge sexually. We both want each other and it’s frustrating and complicated.”

His gaze darkened. “I’d be a fool to counter that bold statement, especially when it’s completely accurate, but damn those complications.”

Her heart rate did a little jump. There it was again. That offhand sincerity that did odd things to her equilibrium. Damn him for agreeing with her. He was an honorable man with a highly regarded level of personal integrity. Damn him again for that.

“Yeah,” she agreed, hating the breathy catch in her voice, but incapable of stifling it. They ate breakfast and talked about inane things, steering clear of heavily emotional topics. When Dario and the sheriff pulled up, they were ready to go.

They drove to the promenade. “This is the Las Peñas neighborhood,” Dario said as he parked the cruiser. “Mrs. Cordeo lives up there.” He pointed toward the colorful houses painted in hot pink, lavender, deep purple, aqua blue, sky blue, coral, and peach tones.

“Santa Ana Hill,” the colonel provided, but Kai had heard about the tourist area. It was located northeast of the city at the foot of the Guayas River, sporting shops, museums, restaurants, and bars. There were four hundred and forty-four steps exactly to reach the top, and they were numbered.

“There is no other access than to walk. Her residence is twenty stairs up,” the colonel said.

They headed off, the view from the northern end of the promenade stretching out to the open ocean with a green ribbon in the background. They crossed over the trolley tracks into the Las Peñas neighborhood, the beginning of the colorful houses, lined with cobblestone streets. When they reached the concrete numbered stairs, dotted with blooming bushes of deep pink blossoms, they climbed, passing fountains and plazas with people enjoying their breakfasts.

At the twentieth stair, they turned left toward a traditional Spanish gate with wrought iron, wading through several cats. They came to her townhouse five minutes later, the exterior painted in a delicious mango color with orange trim. Mrs. Cordero’s home looked twentieth century, built in wood with European influences—French-type balconies and windows that opened more like a door instead of a sash. There were very few people around. The walk was short, which made it easy to see that the front door was ajar. Her first thought was that they were, once again, too late. Her hopes and her heart sank. This was getting old fast.

Kai stiffened, pulling her weapon. “Davis…the door.” He and the two police officers followed suit. She cautiously pushed the door open. “Mrs. Cordero,” she called, an eerie kind of quiet met the hollow sound of her voice, fading away unanswered.

Kai suddenly held her breath, anticipation making the tension mount. In the hall was a small dog, a Scottie, Kai thought. He was lying on his side dead in a pool of his white fur. She gritted her teeth, hit by a metallic smell she knew all too well. They cleared the first floor, including a bedroom and living room.

Davis pulled ahead of her as their voices rang out, “Clear.” All except Davis.

She found him in the kitchen, his broad shoulders rose and fell as he holstered his Glock and heaved a sigh.

She tried to take in the scene with the eyes of a seasoned veteran—objective, observant. But she couldn’t fend off the initial shock of seeing the woman they hoped to question lying dead and knowing that the people who had killed Mayta, kidnapped and then subsequently murdered not only Carter Lennon, but the whole OCDETF Task Force, had killed an old woman, whose only crime was to be related to Mayta and Eduardo Mosquera.

They were up against some ruthless, vicious animals, and Kai felt uncomfortable and uneasy in a city she didn’t know with people she couldn’t really trust. She fortified herself with the knowledge that she could trust Davis, and even though they would need to be careful going forward, she wasn’t about to back down from finding these monsters. Nate’s death hung heavy on her, and there was no way she could forsake his death and back down now.

Davis said, “Her fingers are burned pretty badly. Looks like torture with another twenty-two to the back of the head.”

She bit the side of her cheek. The woman had suffered, tough old thing. She had fought against her captors, but it hadn’t done her any good, taking in the dazed expression in her dark eyes, her mouth open in shock, as if she had started to cry out, only to find it too late.

Violent deaths in Guayaquil weren’t uncommon, but not of little old ladies being executed in their kitchens.

“Los Esmeraldas,” Dario said.

“You don’t know that.” Cesar’s jaw hardened and his eyes narrowed as he stared at Dario.

“It’s their signature hit,” Dario said, his chin lifting. She liked the way he stood his ground.

“Nothing conclusive until we have proof. You should know that,” Cesar said, his temper threatening to boil over. She studied him, his anger seeming out of place.

“Cesar, there’s no need to jump down his throat. He’s stating his opinion.”

“Look here, Kai, I don’t condone opinions. Facts and evidence are what moves me.” He leaned over her, trying to intimidate her with his height and his scowl. “You're a guest here. Don’t forget that.”

She squared off against him, not about to back down, but aware that she had to maintain a working relationship with a foreign police department. They were here to discover who was involved in murdering their citizens. “I’m aware of our status here, Cesar, but we have a job to do. We intend to do it.”

Surprisingly, Cesar was the one who backed down. “I apologize for my outburst. I’m a stickler for protocol.” He looked at Dario and said, “Call it in.”

Dario nodded and retreated. She gave Davis a look, then nudged her head toward the younger man as he got on the radio. Davis gave her a subtle nod.

“Look at this boot print,” Davis said, distracting the colonel. When he walked over to take a better look, Kai headed down the hall. As soon as Dario was off the radio, she said, “Tell me about the Los Esmeraldas.”

Dario shot a quick glance down the hall, but when he saw that the colonel was occupied with Davis, he said, his voice low. “They are the predominant gang around here. Merciless killers with one purpose—protect their drug smuggling operation.”

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