Resurrection Page 4

  “We’re safe here?” Mary Grace whispered.

  “That’s a relative word, but yeah. Sit tight for a couple minutes.” She hurried to the next stall, grabbed the faded gray tarp and hurried back to cover the ATV. This farm was four miles from the nearest town, and from what she’d heard, people didn’t venture here much. But she wanted to hide as much of their presence as possible. “Hope you don’t mind sleeping on the ground.”

  “I’d rather sleep here than in that freaking mansion.” Heat laced the woman’s words.

  “Did they…hurt you? Abuse you?”

  Mary Grace shook her head as she stretched her arms over her head and twisted, working the kinks out of her body. “No.”

  “Good. If you want to, call your husband, tell him you’re alive. We’re heading out early tomorrow.”

  “Do you think we’ll make it?” she asked, even as she pulled out the satellite phone Skye had given her earlier.

  “I do. We’ll be able to blend and I have a plan for getting us out of here in a few hours. I just need to make some calls, make sure we’re still good to go.”

  “What should I tell him about you?”

  “That I’m your guardian angel.” Because Mary Grace’s was clearly a slacker.

  “Okay, but…”

  “Just tell him I work for the US government and I’m part of a rescue team. The rest of the team was killed and I’m bringing you home. Final destination is Corpus Christi.” She’d already hired someone who’d be able to get them across the border without alerting anyone. It would just be a matter of getting to the small, makeshift airport without anyone discovering them. “And honestly, I’d tell him to keep his mouth shut about this and maybe even hole up somewhere other than his home. Because if David Ramirez thinks you’re alive, he’ll send someone to check out your husband, to see if you’ve contacted him. I don’t know the connections Ramirez has in the US, but I know he has them.”

  “Arturo Ramirez is dead. There’s a good chance they’ll think I poisoned him.”

  “Did you?”

  “No.”

  “Okay. Even if you did, it doesn’t matter to me. The guy was a piece of shit. But that puts another wrinkle in getting you home safely.”

  “He was dying of pancreatic cancer. Had maybe a month to live at the most. I had no reason to kill him. The longer I kept him alive, the better for me. He was the reason I was still alive at all. I think Rafael Ramirez, his youngest son, killed him. I saw him coming out of his father’s room and then when I checked on Arturo, he was dead. I took blood samples, which are in my pack.” She patted the small bag strapped across her middle. “And I took all the copies of his medical work. I can prove I had no reason to kill him. But the timing of your rescue and him dying…it doesn’t look good for me.”

  The wheels had already started turning in Skye’s head. “We’ll make this work. I’ll make it work with David Ramirez. It’s not a stretch that Rafael would try to kill their father. And no one wants that psycho in power.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. David will keep the region stable. His brother will wreak havoc.”

  “How do you even know that? And seriously, take off that mask. It’s creepy.”

  Skye had kept her black mask on for multiple reasons, the main one being she didn’t want Mary Grace to be able to identify her to anyone. Not Colt, not Mercer, no one. “First, I want your word on something. I think most people are liars, but I’ve heard from a reliable source that you have honor, so I want you to promise that you won’t tell anyone what I look like. Not even your husband. I’m rescuing you as a Good Samaritan but I don’t want anyone to know who I am or what I look like. So you won’t speak of me once I’ve gotten you to safety. Agreed?”

  “Yes, I swear it.”

  “If you’re facing torture, you can tell someone who I look like.” She felt like she needed to tack that on. Because Mary Grace seemed like the kind of person who’d try to hold out if she was being tortured.

  Mary Grace blinked, then let out a rusty-sounding laugh. “Agreed.”

  She yanked off the mask, glad to have it off. It was made of cotton and breathable, but still uncomfortable for so long, especially for that long ride in the forest.

  “What?” she asked as Mary Grace stared at her.

  “I don’t know. I expected you to have two noses or something. You’re…stunning.”

  Skye gave a muted laugh and pulled the black rubber band out of her now messy ponytail. Her hair was long and auburn, courtesy of her mother’s Scottish heritage. Her skin was a few shades lighter than Mary Grace’s, courtesy of her father’s Spanish heritage. “Well, back at ya, Dr. Jackson.”

  “You can definitely call me Mary Grace. And thank you again for saving me.”

  Skye lifted a shoulder. “Call your husband. And please tell him not to alert anyone. Not yet. It’ll put us in danger.”

  Mary Grace nodded. “My husband is smart.”

  Yeah, well men did dumb things when it came to women they loved, but Skye nodded. As Mary Grace made the call, Skye stripped off the long-sleeved dark sweater she’d had on as well, needing to let her skin breathe a bit after that ride, despite the forty-eight degree weather. Dusting off her pants, she exited the small barn and conducted a quick perimeter check. The house was about fifty yards off and she wasn’t going to bother doing a recon of it. There were no lights on and she’d hear someone coming anyway. She rarely slept, usually only in two- to three-hour batches.

  After faking her own death she’d been lying low and trying not to think about—obsess over—Colt Stuart. It was incredibly easy to picture him in her mind. With dark hair, green eyes and a smile that made her panties melt, she would never forget the man. At thirty-four he was in his prime physically, muscular but not bulky. And she’d kissed every inch of his hard, toned body. Gah, that frustrating, sexy man filled most of her thoughts anytime she allowed herself to relax.

  Walking away from him had been almost impossible. But she loved him too much to do otherwise. Because by simply existing, she was putting him and anyone he cared for in mortal danger. She wished it was different… Nope, not going there.

  For the moment she shook off thoughts of him and leaned against the outside of the barn. Stars sprinkled the sky and a cool breeze rolled over the damp terrain, caressing her bare arms as she made her first phone call to the pilot she’d hired to fly Mary Grace back to the States. After letting him know he was on standby, she made another call as backup to a Border Patrol agent she knew, who’d also be able to help them get into Texas with no issue.

  She didn’t actually plan to go back to the US with Mary Grace. She just wanted to make sure the doctor was in good hands before she let her go and went her own way. If she had to, Skye would deliver Mary Grace to her husband, but she’d rather part ways before she got that far.

  Once she was done, she headed back into the barn. Mary Grace was leaning against the tarp-covered ATV, wiping tears from her eyes. But Skye was pretty certain they were happy ones.

  She held out the phone to Skye. “My husband wants to speak to you, if that’s all right?”

  Nodding, she took the phone. “Hello?”

  “Ma’am…I don’t know how to ever thank you, but thank you for getting my wife back to me.” His voice was thick with tears, making her uncomfortable.

  Skye had never dealt with crying men. Or kids. Both were scary. “No need to thank me. We head out in a few hours. Did your wife tell you to lie low?”

  “Yeah, but I’m not sitting at home waiting. We’ll meet you in Corpus Christi.”

  She wondered who the “we” was, but didn’t ask. “Did she also tell you not to alert anyone—”

  “Yes. I’m only telling a few trusted friends. They’re all former military, and all of them have security clearances. Some higher than others.”

  “Okay.” She had a feeling she knew who all those friends were as well, since Colt had told her about his friends, men he considered family. “We’
ll keep this phone for now. Your wife will call you as soon as we reach the airport she’ll be flying out of.”

  “She?”

  Hell. “I will personally be putting her on a plane with someone I trust. She will be returned home to you safe and sound.” Skye didn’t like making promises, but she damn sure intended to keep this one. For Colt.

  “But you’re not flying with her?”

  “I hadn’t planned to.” Because she needed to have a sit-down with David Ramirez and that was going to take some particular finessing. If he didn’t agree to let Mary Grace go free and clear, Skye would have to kill him. And his brother too, because that crazy bastard couldn’t be allowed to take over the cartel. She might not be CIA anymore, but she still had a responsibility.

  “I don’t want her flying without you. She said you’re her guardian angel, and she trusts you. What’s the airport you’ll be flying out of? I’ll just meet you and take her myself.”

  Airport was a bit of a stretch. It was more like a landing strip in the middle of nowhere. “On the chance this call is being monitored—and I don’t think it is—I’m not telling you.” He’d never be able to find it anyway. Not without exact coordinates. “And it would take you a hell of a lot longer to get to it than it’ll take for me to get her home. That’s more time she’s on Mexican soil.”

  Mercer cursed.

  “I’ll go with her to Corpus Christi,” she said quickly, not wanting to drag this out any longer. They needed rest before setting out again. And she wanted to get out of here before daybreak. Much easier to steal a car in the early morning hours. Right now she was certain Ramirez would have people looking for them in any nearby towns. But the hour or two right before dawn, most people would be sleeping. That was when she’d make her move.

  “Thank you. Mary Grace said your team died. I’m incredibly sorry for that. Was…a man named Colt working with you?”

  Just hearing his name made her go still, but she answered quickly. “I don’t know anyone by that name.” And she hadn’t technically had a team. She’d just told Mary Grace that in reference to the pilot and Perez’s dead guy.

  Mercer let out a breath. “Okay. Can I talk to my wife now?”

  She handed the phone to Mary Grace so they could say their goodbyes. Soon enough they’d be on the road, on the way to freedom.

  At least for Mary Grace. Skye wasn’t sure she’d ever have true freedom. Not until a monster was dead.

  Her only saving grace was that he thought she was dead. And she was hunting him, determined to eliminate him before he finally got someone to steal what he wanted. Something that could kill thousands upon thousands. If he discovered she was alive, however…

  She wouldn’t let that happen.

  * * *

  With a trembling hand, Mercer set his phone on the side table in the living room. He’d been sleeping—the times he could—on the couch in the living room the past two months because he hadn’t been able to get in the bed he’d shared with his wife.

  Mary Grace. Who was alive.

  The woman he’d loved since he was fifteen was alive. And relatively unharmed. He swiped at tears he hadn’t even realized had fallen. He wasn’t a crier, but hell. Mary Grace had just called him.

  He wanted to run right out the door and fly to Mexico. But that would be stupid. He had to formulate a plan and get to Corpus Christi. That was the first goal. Then if needed, he’d head right into Mexico and bring his wife home. But Mary Grace had assured him the woman who’d rescued her was a pro. So right now he had no choice but to trust that.

  He nearly jumped as his phone buzzed, thinking it was Mary Grace calling or texting. When he checked the incoming text message, he stood.

  “Everything okay?” Brooks asked, meeting him in the hallway as he appeared out of freaking nowhere. As if his buddy had been lurking. Which he probably had. The guy had been on him like a shutdown cornerback the past four days.

  “Yeah. Savage is here”

  “Wha—here, as in outside?” Brooks glanced at his watch. “At two in the morning?”

  “Yeah. Called him a few days ago.” Mercer had called another of their childhood friends because he’d been certain that Colt and Brooks were keeping something from him. Savage did contract work in places of the world most sane people wouldn’t travel to, and it had taken him a few days to get back to the States. Now Mercer was glad he’d called. Because Savage and Brooks would be coming with him to get Mary Grace.

  Without saying anything else, he headed to the front door and pulled it open.

  With a tired smile, Zacharias Savage pulled Mercer into a tight embrace. Guy was one of his few friends who was as big as him, though unlike Mercer, he’d never played pro ball. “Good to see you guys,” he said, clapping him on the back before dropping a duffel into the foyer. Then he did the same to Brooks as Mercer shut the door.

  “God, it’s good to see you too. Can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were headed into town.” Brooks shook his head slightly.

  Of all of them, Brooks and Savage were closest to each other. Had been since they were teenagers. “I made him promise not to contact you,” Mercer said, looking between the two dark-haired men. “Because I know you and Colt are keeping something from me. I asked him here so he could get it out of you. But as of three minutes ago I think I know what you’ve been hiding. I just got a call from Mary Grace. She’s alive.”

  Silence reigned for a full five seconds until Brooks smiled and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “He found her. Thank God.” Relief, joy and too many other emotions were in his friend’s voice.

  Mercer felt every one of them too. Joy the most prevalent. “No, he didn’t. Some woman did. Mary Grace said she’s kind of intense, blew a bunch of shit up and pretty much single-handedly rescued her. Definitely has training, though she didn’t tell me much else, not even what the woman looks like.”

  “Colt went after her,” Brooks said, confirming what Mercer had figured out by now. “He made me promise, because—”

  “Yeah, I can guess why. If she hadn’t been alive…” No. No. He was getting his wife back. Life couldn’t be that cruel to take her away after this. “I’m still pissed at the two of you, but I’m gonna let that go for now.”

  “What’s the plan?” Savage asked quietly, clearly not needing any other details.

  Yeah, he loved his friends. “We pack bags and head to Texas. The woman who’s got my Mary Grace said that’s where she’ll be bringing her. They’ll be heading out in a couple hours. I’ll tell you everything I know once we’re on the road.”

  “I’m already packed,” Savage said.

  “I can be ready in five minutes,” Brooks said.

  “Same here.” According to his wife, she’d been held by the Ramirez cartel to take care of the dying patriarch. Eventually Mercer wanted everyone who’d hurt his wife to pay, but for now all he cared about was getting her back and keeping her safe. “We need to get ahold of Colt too. You have a way to contact him?” he asked Brooks, already heading up the stairs to pack.

  “Yeah. He’s gone mostly dark, but he’s been checking his messages and texting me to let me know his progress.”

  Mercer owed him. Big time. And he owed Mary Grace’s mysterious savior. “Tell him we’re on the way and someone else got to Mary Grace first.” Even though she was safe for now, Mercer wouldn’t be able to breathe easy until he held his wife in his arms again.

  Chapter 4

  —Blood makes you related. Love and loyalty make you family.—

  Colt stared at the prisoner he’d tied to a chair in this dingy shack in the middle of nowhere, Mexico and ripped the hood off his head. Even if the guy screamed, no one would hear him. He’d picked a rural area to take this guy to instead of an urban one. If by chance someone did overhear, it was unlikely they’d call law enforcement. No, everyone here avoided calling the police if possible. Everyone but tourists. And he was definitely not that.

  “¿Inglés o español?” he barked. br />
  “English is fine,” the guy muttered, anger and a little resignation on his face—as if he was preparing to be tortured.

  Colt figured it would be English, considering Santiago Lopez lived in Texas. Born in the United States, he’d been recruited by the Ramirez cartel at the age of twelve. Colt knew that from one of the files he’d copied and taken before he’d decided to undertake this solo mission. “You’re going to tell me everything I want to know about the missing doctor.”

  Lopez looked away from him, no doubt taking in his surroundings, looking for a way to escape. They were in an abandoned home, likely of a poor farmer who’d either died or headed to the nearest city. Probably the former. There was nothing on the walls except a few framed photographs. Threadbare furniture had been left as well, but everything of value was gone.

  “I got no idea who you’re talking about.”

  Colt reined in a sigh. He didn’t have weeks to break this guy. Not when Mary Grace’s life was on the line. “We can do a whole song and dance here where I torture the shit out of you and I’ll never know if you’re telling me the truth or not.” He pulled out his SIG, strode toward the guy and pressed the weapon against his crotch. No time to finesse this situation. “Because torture rarely works. But I’ll have to try, regardless, because I want to know about the individual who took the doctor.”

  Lopez shifted against the chair, struggling against his wrist and ankle bindings, but there was no give. Pressing a SIG up against a man’s junk was almost a surefire way to get him to talk.

  Colt pressed the weapon harder. “It’s obvious I’m not a cop.” He’d kidnapped the guy leaving a bar thirty minutes ago, thrown him into the trunk of a car he’d stolen, then brought him to this place out in the country. Colt had nothing to lose at this point. He had to find Mary Grace. For all he knew she’d been kidnapped by someone else. Doubtful, but he wouldn’t rest until he knew she was safe.