Protecting Arizona (Special Forces: Operation Alpha) Read online

  The DEA had worked long and hard, in conjunction with the sheriff’s office, to get the proof they needed. It wasn’t easy because Vasquez had built such a strong public image to hide behind, plus he was excellent at concealing his tracks. But as DeLoach was fond of saying, no one is perfect. Everyone makes mistakes, and Vasquez had made his.

  It didn’t hurt that they’d been able to convince one of his men to switch sides. The man was worried about his sisters still in Mexico who’d been left without protection when Vasquez had brought the man to Florida. As DeLoach was fond of saying, every piece of metal has a weak spot. You just have to find it. The DEA had dug very deep to find this one, and the information the man had given them was invaluable. In return, they had spirited his sisters out of their village in Mexico and settled them where they were safe.

  Now they were just days away from making the actual arrests. They had the information on the distribution system. They knew who many of the lower-level dealers were. It was time to reel in the kingpin himself and maybe turn him to get to the cartels. And best of all, there had not been one single leak. The planning of the operation had been tighter than tight. Only the most trusted agents had been chosen for this particular team.

  For Arizona, this was a two-edged sword. Her idiotic, immature sister had met Vasquez, been swept off her feet by him, and married him. Worse, she had a child, a little girl, Ruby, whose sweetness made Arizona’s heart ache. Arizona had pleaded with her sister so many times to take the child and leave Vasquez, but without any luck. Lately, Florida had been almost defiant, accusing Arizona of being jealous of all her wealth. There seemed, however, to be an undertone of fear beneath her sister’s stubbornness that worried the hell out of her. Despite the conflict between the two of them, she was determined to get both of them out of there before the hammer dropped.

  Once again she glanced at her watch, checking for any kind of message from her sister. Still nothing. A bad feeling was sitting in the pit of her stomach. She was glad when the meeting wrapped up fifteen minutes later. And happier still that no one hung around to chat with the team leader. When the room had emptied she’d walked over to where DeLoach stood.

  “I hate to do this, but I need to talk to you.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “Right now?”

  She nodded. “This is important. I received an urgent text from my sister more than an hour ago and nothing from her since then. I’m very worried about her.”

  DeLoach frowned. “The one married to Vasquez?”

  “Yes, and I think she’s in trouble.”

  When she first applied to the DEA, Arizona was upfront about her sister and brother-in-law. She supposed she could have left it off since they had different last names, but that wasn’t the kind of person she was. When they ran their investigation as they did with every agent, they found nothing to disqualify her, so the information just sat in her file. But that connection was one of the reasons DeLoach had asked for her on his team. He’d hoped she’d be able to provide some insight, and, of course, she told him what little she knew, which was precious little. She’d never been invited to the house, never met the man, always meeting Florida alone or later on with Ruby.

  “What’s the deal now? I thought we agreed you’d tell her to get the hell out of there before we hit Vasquez. We’re scant days way from grabbing him up along with his lieutenants.”

  “I know, I know.” She bit her lip. “I couldn’t very well walk up to the door, ring the bell, and say, come on, Florida. Let’s go for a ride. Oh, and bring Ruby with you.”

  “Ruby’s your niece, right?”

  Arizona nodded. “I’m pretty sure Vasquez has no idea I’m a DEA agent. We decided when I discovered she’d married him that it would be safer for her if he didn’t know.”

  “Of course. But what’s happening now?”

  “I wish I knew. She…” At that moment, her phone buzzed, and she looked at it. “Finally, she answered my text. I need to take this. Please.”

  “Go ahead.” He nodded. “Just let me know what the deal is and if I have to replace you on the team.”

  “Replace me?” She stared at him.

  “Arizona.” He shook his head. “We are far enough away from our deadline that I can pull in another agent, but I need to know now.”

  She read the message, her stomach knotting.

  “Left Luca. Something bad is going on, and it scared me. At Chestnut Hill Motel with Ruby. Come now.”

  She showed DeLoach the message. “You think he knows we’re about to drop on him?”

  “Anything is possible. We’ve of course kept a lid on it, but you know nothing is foolproof. You need to find out what’s what with your family. If your sister is in trouble, go check it out. Get her somewhere safe.”

  “But—”

  “Take care of your family, Arizona. Go. Just call me and let me know what the deal is. If you can stash them somewhere until this is all over, that would help. If not, take the time off and do what you need to.”

  “Thank you.”

  She didn’t wait for him to change his mind, just grabbed her purse and raced from the room.

  Arizona looked up the motel address and plugged it into her GPS. The Chestnut Hill was way out past the University of South Florida, the opposite end of the city from Davis Islands where Luca Vasquez had his McMansion. At least her sister had gotten out of Vasquez’s immediate geography. The interstate was jammed, of course, which didn’t help her anxiety level as she wrangled her way through the traffic. She tried three times to reach Florida on her cell phone but without success. That didn’t help her anxiety level at all.

  At last she hit the exit she wanted, and ten more stress-filled minutes brought her to the hotel. Looking around, she didn’t see her sister’s car anywhere, but there could be any number of reasons for that. She just hoped Florida hadn’t changed her mind and left. Gone back to that scumbag.

  No. She sounded in too much of a panic for that.

  Florida had texted her the room number, which was on the second floor. Arizona stuffed the small Sig Sauer she liked to carry as her personal weapon into her pants pocket. Then she took the stairs two at a time. Her hand was raised to knock on the door of the room when she realized it wasn’t completely closed, that it hadn’t latched. Every nerve in her body went on instant alert.

  With her Sig in her hand, she nudged the door open another inch or two and peered through the narrow opening. Her heart clenched when she saw her sister lying on the bed, bloody and unmoving. She waited, listening hard, but couldn’t detect any movement. Letting out her breath, she slammed the door open just in case there was anyone behind it.

  But no one was there except for Florida, lying still on the bed, blood covering her T-shirt. Arizona looked around for Ruby, but the little girl was nowhere to be seen. Not even hiding in the closet.

  Oh god!

  Shoving her gun in her pocket, she gritted her teeth and checked Florida’s pulse for any heartbeat but found none. She tested the wide pool of blood on her sister’s shirt and found it wet. Whoever had shot Florida—and Arizona had no doubt who that was—had found her, killed her, and grabbed Ruby in the half hour since Florida’s last text.

  It took every bit of her personal discipline to keep from throwing up. This was not a time for nerves or falling apart. She had to find Ruby. That was her priority. She closed her eyes for a moment, and a vision of the tiny little girl with the glossy black curls, a dimple in one cheek, and Florida’s blue eyes popped into her brain.

  I’ll find you, sweetheart.

  Pulling herself together she looked carefully around the room, absorbing everything. A suitcase lay on the floor, broken open probably from being tossed there. Clothes spilled out of it in a haphazard manner, b ut none of that was important compared to the fact that Ruby was missing.

  She examined the room again, looking for any clues, but there was nothing else. She knew it had to be Vasquez who’d done this. There was no question in her mind about th
at. Somehow he’d known to track Florida here and killed her. Maybe he’d even had men follow her when she left the house. That meant he had Ruby. She was sure of it.

  The taste of fear was harsh in her mouth. She had to get that little girl back. No way was she leaving her with a man like Luca Vasquez, even if he was her father. No, not father. Sperm donor was more like it. If only she could have convinced Florida to leave long before this, but that was water under the bridge now. Her sister was dead, and her niece was missing. That was what the important thing right now.

  Okay, think, Arizona. Finding Ruby is the only thing on your list. Don’t get embroiled in anything else.

  That meant the police, among other things.

  Okay, better to use the motel phone then her own. She picked up the receiver, hit the button for local calls and dialed 911.

  “I want to report a murder,” she said when the operator answered. She ignored the questions, gave the name of the motel and Florida’s room number and disconnected.

  She hated just walking out with her sister lying there, but if she didn’t get away she wouldn’t be able to do anything. She peeked through the slit where the drapes on the window didn’t quite meet and scanned as much as she could see of the parking lot. She didn’t see anyone sitting in a car watching the room, but of course that meant nothing. They could be anywhere. She needed to get the hell out of here.

  Leaving the door ajar just as she’d found it, she waited until there were only a couple of people moving around at the other end of the parking lot. Then she hurried down the steps and into her car. She kept glancing in the rearview mirror as she pulled away from the motel but didn’t see any vehicles tagging her. When she thought she was far enough away, she pulled into a strip center, parked, and called DeLoach.

  “My sister is dead.” She could hardly make herself say the words. “Shot.”

  “Jesus, Arizona.” There was a pause. “You need to call the cops.”

  “I did. From the motel room, so they don’t have my number. I won’t be staying around to talk to them, though.”

  “You know Vasquez is behind this.”

  A bitter taste flooded her mouth. “Of course he is. And I have no idea what precipitated this, either. The last few calls from Florida, scattered as they were, gave me little information, only that things were not the same.”

  “She didn’t give you any hint at all?” he asked.

  “None.” She sighed. “Of course, with my sister, that could mean anything. But, Joaquin, Ruby is missing. If Vasquez has her, I have to get her back If I’m going to find Ruby, I don’t have any time to waste.”

  “Whatever you do,” DeLoach said, “you can’t do it by yourself.”

  “I’ll have to,” she argued. “You said before I could take the time to help my family. Well, that’s what I’m doing. I certainly don’t want it to in any way affect the takedown of Vasquez.”

  “The murder of his wife may complicate it,” he pointed out. “His whole routine will be thrown out of sync. I don’t want to postpone the raid on the dealership and give him a chance to move the merchandise before we can grab it, but I also don’t want to arrest him at his wife’s funeral. Bad for us.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to wait an hour or so and call a friend I have in the county sheriff’s office. He can let me know what’s going on and I’ll take it from there. I wish we could help you with Ruby because you definitely will need some help.”

  “I know.”

  “Just keep me in the loop, okay?”

  “Will do. And thanks. For everything. Giving me the time and all.”

  “And you know if it turns out we can find Ruby as part of our operation we will.”

  She disconnected the call, then sat for a moment, trying to unscramble her brain. Think, she told herself. Where would he take Ruby? To his McMansion where he could keep her under guard? Or to some other place where she’d be away from everything? Certainly away from where she, Arizona, might look for her.

  Joaquin was right. She couldn’t do this herself, much as she hated to admit it. She hated the fact that she and Florida had had such a fractured relationship, but her sister had an irresponsible wild streak, just like their parents, that Arizona had trouble dealing with. Sometimes, over the past year, Florida would manage to sneak away, and they would have a few hours together hidden away somewhere. She was never sure, however, if Vasquez had sent someone to follow his wife and knew about Arizona.

  Think, she told herself. She couldn’t go up and ring the doorbell and ask where her niece was. Then Vasquez would know she was aware of Florida’s death, and she might be the next body. And if he knew what she looked like, she couldn’t exactly go snooping around anywhere he was.

  Damn!

  She was an experienced DEA agent. How could she not figure out a plan here?

  Because there are too many variables, and the first concern has to be for Ruby.

  Tex Keenan!

  The name popped into her head as she sat there.

  Tex was a former SEAL who was an electronics wizard and had taught a class to several DEA agents. She’d been one of the lucky attendees. They had chatted for a while afterward, and he’d given her his card. Told her if he ever could help her with anything to let him know, and gave her his phone number. She scrolled through her contacts and sure enough, there it was. If ever she needed help, it was now. She just hoped to hell he had someone he could put her in touch with, and that whoever it was got there five minutes before yesterday.

  She scrolled through her contacts for Tex’s number and punched it.

  “Keenan.”

  Just hearing his voice calmed her a little.

  “You said if I ever had a problem, you could help me. Okay. I need help.”

  She poured out her story to Tex who listened on the other end without comment.

  “Give me five minutes,” he told her when she’d finished. Then he disconnected.

  They were some of the longest five minutes she’d ever spent. But when Tex called back and told her what he’d arranged, she drew her first full breath since Arizona’s call. She confirmed the rest of the details then dialed Joaquin to tell him what was happening.”

  “A SEAL?” he asked. “Excellent. You’ll be in good hands.” He paused. “Just don’t get yourself killed, okay?”

  “I’ll do my best not to.”

  Cranking the engine, she pulled out of the parking lot and headed to where she’d told Tex to have Clint DaCosta meet her.

  Razor.

  She hoped he was as sharp as his name implied. And that his SEAL skills were as keen as ever.

  Chapter 2

  Clint “Razor” DaCosta steered his Ducati Panigale motorcycle off the highway and into the truck stop on his right. He’d been riding since early morning, and both he and his bike both needed gas. He still had no idea where he was going but was too restless to just sit in a motel room. When you had no home to go back to and no one waiting for you, staying on the move looked like the best option.

  It’s your own fault, asshole.

  Okay, if he was honest, maybe it was. His commitment to the SEALs was so strong that he’d refused to allow himself anything but the most casual relationships. His trips home grew less and less frequent as more and more his family pressured him to “find someone,” to “settle down,” to “create a welcoming place for himself to come home to.” But neither his mind nor his emotions were ready yet for any of those things. The problem was, he had no idea what they were ready for.

  Being a SEAL had been his life for so long. Indeed, almost his lover. He thrived on the camaraderie, the action, the knowledge that he was serving his country in a capacity where he could accomplish things. And when his friends went home between missions, he never thought to be jealous. He was satisfied with riding his bike and finding adventures in new places.

  But after twenty years he had finally reached a place of no return, especially when the injury to his
arm had knocked him from his role as a sniper. He had to find a new purpose in life, a way to re-identify himself. Not that there weren’t opportunities out there. Many of his fellow SEALs had reoriented to civilian life with only a couple of blips. Of course, he had to admit that most of them had created niches for themselves preparing for that day. They had wives, girlfriends, children, other support systems he’d deliberately chosen to avoid as unnecessary. He hadn’t wanted to take the time or energy.

  Many of the men he knew had gone into security work of some kind, but he wasn’t sure if the injury to his arm would make him ineligible. Oh, it still worked okay, especially if he did the daily exercises he tried to be religious about. No matter what he did, he had no desire to end up with a gimpy arm. He’d also thought about trying to train himself to shoot with his left hand. He knew others who had done it with varying degrees of success.

  After he filled the Ducati’s tank, he parked it and found a booth in the coffee shop. He had chowed down two doughnuts before he got on the road that morning and breakfast for lunch sounded better and better. He ordered a soda—he was trying to cut back on coffee—and, after a quick glance at the menu, a full breakfast platter. For some reason, he was suddenly very hungry. He was about to do a search on his phone for nearby shooting ranges when the signal dinged for an incoming call. He was surprised to see Tex Keenan’s name on the readout. He had met Tex through a variety of circumstances, and the two of them were part of a community of former SEALs who kept in touch with each other.

  “Aren’t you busy tracking the world electronically?” he joked. “Maybe those friends of yours don’t keep you busy enough. Or is Melody ignoring you?”

  Razor knew that wasn’t happening, even as he teased his friend. All you had to do was spend five minutes with Melody and Tex Keenan to know how much in love with each other they were.

  “You should only have someone who keeps me as busy as Mel does,” Tex joked back.

  “So, what are you calling about?” Razor asked.

  “Several months ago, I taught a class in the use of computers and electronics for the DEA. They held the session in Washington, and agents came from different field offices.”