Page 4 of Deadly Holiday
Chapter Two
Cooper hungrily tracked Celina’s every movement.
She and Ronni were playing Santa’s helpers, passing out candy canes and keeping the kids in line occupied while they awaited their turn to see Santa. Via contentedly played with Jett in his playpen. With every twirl of Celina’s skirt and flirty smile she sent his way, Cooper was tempted to say the hell with it all and find a private room somewhere. Judging from her sexy response earlier, Celina would likely be up for a repeat of their ‘frisking’ session at the house.
Instead of mapping her luscious curves, however, he was relegated to sitting in Santa’s large, ornate chair andho-ho-hoing his way through the long line of kids waiting to see him.
He was miserable as hell, but he could be patient. He was, after all, the man with a plan, and Operation Wedding Ceremony was a go. Cooper had called in a favor from his Homeland Security buddy, Roman Walsh, and Aunt Charo and the cousins were in America for a visit. They had arrived late the previous night.
It hadn’t taken much convincing to get Celina to leave early for the party and they were blocks away from the hospital when Cooper got a text from his old partner, Bobby Dyer, with a thumbs up. While Cooper kept Celina occupied at the party, Bobby, his wife, Eliza, and Celina’s family were at the house getting everything ready for the ceremony.
Even the taskforce was in on it. Thomas would be sneaking out early to pick up the cake, Mitch and Emma were taking Novia with them for the night, and since she was Celina’s closest friend, Ronni had been ordained by an online ministry so she could perform the ceremony, which would be at Cooper’s house. Everything was falling into place. All that was left was to convince the woman of his dreams to marry him tonight instead of kicking him in the balls for planning everything behind her back. It was a fifty-fifty shot. Celina had a temper that was often accompanied by some impressive hand gestures he didn’t know the meaning of. He was fairly certain none were flattering.
A little girl cautiously approached his chair, and Cooper forced his brain back into Santa mode. Her frail hand was tucked into her mother’s, and she moved slowly, as if each step took a tremendous effort. She wore Christmas pajamas with a hat covering her head. Her grey eyes were solemn and serious as they peered at him. Cooper recognized the look—it came from someone who had seen and experienced far too much. He had seen it in the hardest of criminals, and in the eyes of the victims they left behind, but seeing it in the eyes of someone so young pierced his heart.
Cooper cleared his throat, forcing his best Santa voice. “Well hello, little girl. Do you have a request for me?”
She looked up at her mother, eyes doubtful. “Are yousurethis is the real Santa?”
He smiled behind his beard, liking her boldness.
Her mother sent him an apologetic look, dropping to her knees next to her daughter. “Avery, remember how we talked about Santa having helpers all over the world who took requests from little girls and boys?” The girl nodded. “I’m sure this Santa will be happy to hear what you want for Christmas and will try his very best to see that it happens.”
That seemed to satisfy her because the girl smiled, and with some help from her mother, climbed onto Cooper’s lap. She leaned close, studying his face through the beard and fake brows. Years of training made him stay still under her close scrutiny, and when she finally drew back, he wondered if he’d passed inspection.
“You’ll do,” she quipped, and Cooper couldn’t hold back the laugh that rumbled from his chest.
“I appreciate that. So tell me, Avery, what is it that you would like for Christmas?”
What he heard next chased away all of his humor.
“I don’t want it for myself, I want it for my best friend, Jana,” Avery explained, looking worried. “She’s really sick and needs to have her treatment, but her daddy took her away from the hospital. I want Santa to find her and bring her back. Her full name is Jana Ortega. Got it? You can find her, right?”
The air became trapped in his lungs like he’d been sucker punched in the chest. Of all the things he expected to hear tonight, that wasn’t one of them.
“Why did her daddy take her away?” he forced himself to ask, noting that Celina had inched a step closer. She must have overheard Avery’s request.
“I don’t know, but she won’t get better if she doesn’t have her surgery. Look,”—she lowered her voice—“I know you aren’t the real deal, but I’m desperate. Jana needs help, and no one else can do it.”
Throat tight, Cooper slowly nodded, already knowing he was going to do everything he could to help this little girl’s friend.
But warning bells were going off in his head. Jana Ortega—the name rang a bell.
Could Jana be the daughter of Basilio Ortega? The cartel leader was on the run from US authorities, and had only recently been moved to the top of their priority list. Basilio’s wife had been killed a week prior by a rival gang looking to take over in Basilio’s absence, and the SCVC Taskforce had been briefed by Director Dupé to be on the look out for the man. Bas had a daughter—a sick one, from what Cooper remembered.
Fuck. If Jana Ortegawasthe man’s daughter, it would make sense he would fear she would become a target as well and pull her from treatment.
Adrenaline spiked in Cooper’s veins. He needed to talk to Celina, and now. “I promise, I’ll do everything I can to help Jana. Now you do me a favor and enjoy the party, okay?”
Avery threw her arms around his neck, squeezing as tightly as her weak arms would allow. “Thank you, Santa. Thank you so much!”
Her mother helped her hop down and Cooper stood from his chair, making a big show of stretching his arms over his head. “Boys and girls, Santa needs to take a break and check on his reindeer. If you promise to be good, I’ll come back soon and hear all of your Christmas wishes.”
There was an audible groan, and parents led their children away, heading towards the crafting tables. Mitch’s face morphed into a look of sheer panic as he was mobbed by kids. If he didn’t already have a fire to put out, Cooper probably would have stopped to enjoy the other man’s distress. Instead, he cupped Celina’s elbow and steered her into the kitchen, letting the doors swing shut behind them.
“Does Basilio Ortega, the cartel leader, have a daughter? He does, right?”
Celina frowned, wracking her brain. “I don’t remember. Why?”
