Page 108 of Her Wolf

The problem with Americans

The DEA agent, Peter Hansen, had parked his Jeep at the far end of the lot. Finn walked at a brisk pace, Ana and the other three men trailing him.

They could conserve their energy all they wanted, but he refused to let Cora get away from him again.

He had a flashback of the bedroom in Noah’s junkie farmhouse: Cora, wet and slimy with bath suds, pulling the trigger of her Taurus.

But tonight she’d been unarmed.

Drugged.

And her captors had at least a forty minute lead.

All because this bullshitting DEA agent hadn’t thought to mention the fact that he knew where Cora was.

Finn barely suppressed a snarl as he reached the Jeep. He spun back, gesturing Lars to move faster. He and Bailey each held one of Hansen’s arms, the man’s hands still bound behind his back.

Neo’d done a good job of clearing out the party; the Jeep, a handful of middle-income cars, and the caterer’s truck were all that remained in the lot.

Lars took Hansen’s keys from his pocket, giving the man a surly look when Peter flashed him a smile, and handed them to Finn. The Jeep unlocked with a quiet beep, and Finn gestured for the men to untie Hansen.

“Move,” Finn said in a low growl.

“Going as fast as I can.” Peter climbed into the driver’s seat, and hauled a laptop bag out from under it. He turned, setting up the laptop on the passenger side while Finn scanned the parking lot.

If they’d just been ahead of this a few minutes, they’d have been able to stop every car leaving the premises. It might not have helped — Cora could have been escorted off the hotel’s property already — but at least he wouldn’t feel like he’d failed her again.

Again.

The word rang echoed in his head.

“Got it,” Peter called out to them over his shoulder. “Last location is fifty miles south of here.”

“What do you mean, last location?” Finn stepped up, moving Peter aside with the back of his hand so he could peer into the interior and look at the computer’s screen.

“The tracker sends out a signal every sixty seconds. It’s been sending out the same signal now for more than ten minutes.”

“They’ve stopped,” Lars said, crowding in beside Finn and trying to peer at the laptop screen.

“Or they found the tracker,” Peter said, his voice despondent.

“Where is she?” Ana asked.

Peter drew air through his teeth in a quiet whistle. “I think they hopped the border.”

“What? She’s in Mexico?” Lars demanded.

“Close enough,” Peter said, zooming in on the map. He pointed, and Finn made out a faint line on the satellite footage. “See that? It’s the Rio Grande. Cross it, you’re in Mexico.”

“Fuck,” Finn spat, stepping back so Lars could get a better view of the screen. “Fuck!”

Ana came up to him, laying a cool hand on his arm. “We can still find her, right?”

“We?” Finn looked down at the woman, realizing for the first time that she’d followed them out here. “You go back to the villa.”

“What? Why?” Annoyance sparked in Ana’s eyes. “I can help.”

“Only if you plan on being bait,” Bailey said, but Finn could hear his heart wasn’t in it. Ana’d been the one to rouse Bailey, tracking down a cold compress for the impressive bump on the back of his head. Guy didn’t seem so grateful anymore, but Finn could sympathize.

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