Page 5 of Grave Peril

“Ms. Cabelo,” the senator said as he strode by.

“Senator.” Lela kept her voice cordial, despite her distaste for the man.

Behind the closed door of her office, Lela dumped the paperwork on her desk and sagged into her chair. She looked at the various photos of her family, arranged in one corner, and reached out to touch one of the frames. It was a picture of her parents, taken before her father’s death.

Franco Cabelo had been a good cop, and had been in line for chief of police. The Houston PD was his life, his passion. All of Lela’s young life, she’d thought of her father as indestructible. He’d protect her and fight for what was right. She hadn’t doubted that.

Then her father had been gunned down in an alley. It was broad daylight, and he’d been making an arrest. He’d been known and respected for doing his part to reduce drug-related crime in the city. A thug had taken him out, and although the criminal had been prosecuted, that hadn’t brought her father back.

Lela ran her fingertip over the top of the gilded frame. “I love you, Papá. I miss you so much.” She’d blamed the drug cartel for her father’s murder, and rightfully so. It was so unjust that such a good man had been killed in his prime, leaving his loving family behind.

A tear rolled down her cheek and she brushed it away. She’d lost her father when she’d been in high school, just after her sweet sixteen birthday party. The event had crushed her and the rest of the family. She’d been especially close to her father.

Lela had been his only daughter. Her father adored his sons, but his hija preciosa, precious daughter, was the apple of his eye. He did special things with her, took her on outings, and when she was old enough, he taught her how to fight.

That might seem a strange thing to teach a girl, but not for a cop. Her father knew the dangers that were ever-present, and it was his aim to keep her safe. Yet knowing he couldn’t be with her every second of every day, he’d made sure that his precious girl could take care of herself.

Although Lela hadn’t stopped missing her father, she’d grown up and had a life of her own. The job with the senator had provided immense satisfaction, because she could finally do something about violent crime. She was actively working to reduce the threat of the drug cartels.

Looking at the photograph, her heart fell. “I’m sorry, Papá,” she said. “I won’t let him get away with it.”

In recent months, Lela had discovered that Senator Ortiz wasn’t what he claimed to be. It began with a suspicion, based on observations of his behavior. While touting all the right messages, he was doing the opposite. He’d allied with the cartel for profit. That discovery had sickened her. In the public eye, the man presented the image he wanted others to see, and even forwarded causes that raised his popularity.

Meanwhile, the senator lined his pockets with ill-gotten funds. He helped launder money, yet kept a portion of it. He used his influence to protect ruthless criminals. And as appalling as it was, he dealt drugs on the side. His greed knew no limit.

But he wouldn’t get away with it.

It had taken Lela months, but she’d put together evidence against him. Familiar with police methods, she’d discreetly followed Ortiz and obtained photos of key meetings. She’d managed to get copies of accounting records that were incriminating. Yet there was one more vital piece of the puzzle.

Lela needed the data from her boss’s computer, and was certain that he was arrogant enough to believe that no one would dare crack into it. On that score, he was wrong. The senator’s private office was locked unless he was using it. But locks could be opened if one knew how.

Now Lela was the one after her prey, and she’d been patient, watching for the right moment. Such an opportunity was coming up very soon. And she couldn’t wait.

A knock brought her back to the present. Her friend Ashlee Vidal peeked inside and, seeing that Lela was alone, walked in. In the looks department, her friend was the exact opposite of her. Lela had dark, wavy hair, while Ash’s hair was long, blond, and straight as a board.

Lela had her father’s deep brown eyes, while Ash’s were as blue as the sky. And Lela had curves to spare, but her friend was as tall and willowy as a runway model. Yet they had much in common, and tended to see issues in the same light.

Ash glided up to the desk in her leather heels. Her pastel designer suit and silk blouse were without a wrinkle, as was her lovely, flawless skin. “I’m starved,” she said. “Aren’t we going to lunch?” She glanced at the photos on Lela’s desk, then furrowed her brow. “What are you doing in here?”

That was the thing about Ash: she was perceptive—a bit too much sometimes. It wouldn’t do for Lela to falsify her feelings, since her expression must have already revealed her emotion. “I just miss my dad, that’s all. Some days are like that.” She stood up and grabbed her purse. “I’m up for Fusion Taco. My mother called earlier about the party this weekend, and has me drooling for Mexican food.”

Ash smiled, showing perfect teeth. “I’m in.” She made a sweeping motion toward the door. “Let’s get going, then. I have to be back on time for this new project I’ve been assigned.”

Lela followed her friend out and caught the elevator before it closed. The restaurant was right around the corner, so they should be back in plenty of time.

The place was busy, but Ash found a table. Lela sat across from her, and they ordered iced teas. Having been there so many times before, there was no need for a menu. The waiter took their orders for fish tacos and sped off to the next table.

While Lela sipped her tea and waited for the food, Ash launched into her favorite topic: men. It seemed that beauty alone couldn’t guarantee an enviable love life. She had no shortage of dates, but finding the right man had eluded her.

“So, we go on the date, and he immediately thinks he’s invited to my bed.” Ash pouted. “Isn’t there a man out there who wants to get to know me? At least have a real conversation before we get intimate?”

Lela stirred more sugar into her tea. “You haven’t found the right guy, that’s all.”

“Any suggestions?”

“I’m the last woman to give advice. You know my track record. Ten years of misery,” Lela said. “No, that’s an exaggeration. The first couple of years were good. It just all went to hell after that.”

“I’m surprised you made it as long as you did. I know you, Lela girl, and you aren’t one to play second fiddle to a man. It has to be an equal partnership or nothing for you.”

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