Between Hearts: A Romance Anthology Page 9

  “This doesn’t happen. Not to me,” Delaney said, finally looking at him. There was vulnerability there as if she didn’t know what to do with this realization.

  “What?” he asked in answer.

  “I can’t see it. I’ve analyzed every little thing that I know of the case, but the connection eludes me.” She gestured widely with her hands, encompassing all the things on her desk. He leaned in and saw that they were page after page of notes, written in elegant handwriting.

  Ben detected in her the same helplessness he had felt before he stepped into the Stark Group building. He stood up and went to her side of the desk. He knew he was crossing a line, but he could not let her do this to herself. She just gave him the greatest gift anyone had ever given him. He gently took her face in his hands, mesmerized by the contrast their skin color made. She was about to freak out, he knew by the confusion in her eyes. But he had to.

  His lips found hers, and for a second, she froze. Neither one of them breathed. It was a soft kiss, not intended for anything other than telling her that he understood. Every word exchanged between them came out laced with annoyance, for some reason. There was no place for that in this moment.

  Delaney briefly closed her eyes. She didn’t stop the kiss, but she didn’t return it either. When he removed his lips from hers, they both closed their eyes. He felt her take a breath to speak. He smiled, resting his forehead on hers.

  “Benjamin, this is not the tim—”

  Really, the woman talked too much. He took advantage of her open mouth and went back for another kiss. Softness traded places with desperation. His hands found their way into her hair, and she gripped his forearms so tight they’d leave marks for sure.

  The kiss ended when she pushed him away from her with a gasp, her eyebrows raised in shock.

  Ben tried to make light of the rejection. “I’m a little rusty, but that wasn’t so bad, huh?”

  “Shut up, Benjamin.” She glared at him before letting her eyes wander back to her notes. “Do you remember the mud on Gerardo’s shirt collar?”

  The what?

  “It was less than an inch in diameter, so you might not have seen it.” She waved with her hands. “But it was blue-tinged. I didn’t have my swabbing kit with me, so I have to make do with my physical impressions alone, but I could swear it smelled like azurite. And Maria’s locket, did you see it? I don’t have tactile confirmation, but it was clearly a brand new Rosa de Guadalupe locket with a shiny veil in the exact shade of blue as azurite pigments.” She started pacing the room, her desk forgotten.

  Ben sat down in her chair and frowned at her while she paced.

  “Do you know what all that means, Benjamin?”

  “Ummm.” He cocked his head, trying to make sense of her diatribe. He had nothing.

  She threw her hands out in exasperation. “I’m reasonably certain I know where Lara is being held.” She smiled triumphantly.

  Chapter Six

  After her startling proclamation, Delaney grabbed her keys and with a, “Let’s go,” shouted from the exit, got on her motorcycle.

  Ben didn’t speak bikes, but he was pretty sure the monochrome machine was special. Everything about the woman was.

  He jumped behind her, ignoring her eye-roll at his hesitation. He’d never ridden a bike before, so it was awkward trying to figure out where to put his very long limbs. Finally, she grabbed both of his hands and rested them on her waist. It did not make anything less awkward, but those dangerous thoughts he’d been having about her body and his hands all over it somehow lost importance when she put the bike in motion. Her hair flipping in his face made him aware that neither of them were wearing helmets. Shouldn’t they be wearing helmets? He was probably going to die before he found Lara. That would just figure.

  After an undetermined amount of time, she finally stopped. Ben hastily dismounted, mumbling under his breath something about never riding a motorcycle again. She didn’t say anything, but the look she gave him clearly shouted, “Get it together, loser.” Her lively eyes were very expressive, and in the short time of their acquaintance, they mostly seemed to tell him how inadequate she found him.

  “Your sister should be inside this building somewhere.” She surveyed the dilapidated warehouse.

  He took a second to look around, and then looked at her as if she was crazy.

  “It’s not that I’m doubting you, but…” He was absolutely doubting her. “How would you know that from blue mud that smelled like azurite and a locket?”

  “Eighteen days ago, an illegal shipment of Namibian azurite found its way into the city.” She noticed his bewilderment, and with another eye-roll added, “I have a friendly ear monitoring the main smuggling channels. It’s a hobby of mine. The shipment is being linked to Casillas’ organization. Apparently, he’s branching out from the drug cartel. He chose quite the merchandise to do it; a medium size cluster of azurite can be sold for up to a hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars to the right buyer. Anyway, the azurite was typically used in a myriad of ways, including jewelry. Maria’s Rosa de Guadalupe locket caught my eye because the veil of the virgin looked to be the exact shade of azurite found only in the mines of Tsumeb in Namibia. Quite rare, but also a very delicate mineral, so I’m sure Maria’s locket will not become a family heirloom any time soon. It does give us a very important clue as to where the shipment may be held. Azurite must be kept in a cool, dark, sealed storage environment similar to that of its original natural setting. I hadn’t had time to actively pursue the matter yet, but I did narrow down a few possible locations for where the shipment might be stored. The photographs established Gerardo as one of your sister’s keepers. And we know he was involved in Casillas’ azurite endeavor as well. This seems to be the most likely location for both operations, considering the fact that Gerardo wouldn’t go far from his pregnant girlfriend. In one of the last pictures taken, Lara had blue dust in her hair. The lighting was poor, so it was impossible to determine the exact shade, but I’m almost sure it was azurite blue. She’s inside this building, Benjamin.”

  It seemed impossible that she could be so assured from such random clues, but when put together, he could see how they might be connected. It was borderline unbelievable, but the hope in his heart was uncontainable.

  “So what do we do now?” he asked.

  “Now we get your sister,” she stated without inflection, like it was the most natural thing in the world to barge in to a smuggler’s warehouse and rescue a kidnap victim.

  Come to think of it, perhaps for Delaney Stark it was not such a rare occurrence.

  * * *

  Even though it was still a few hours until sunset, the poor illumination inside the building made it seem like it was already night. They didn’t bring a flashlight in their haste to get to the site, so they had to make do with their cell phones. The inside of the warehouse certainly didn’t look like it was a center of any type of operation.

  “There is nothing in here,” he said, fighting back the urge to wail at the heavens for taking away his hope with every step they took inside the empty building.

  Delaney ignored him as she kept walking, motioning for him to be quiet. Her face tightened in concentration. He was about to state, once again, the futility of the excursion when a bang resonated from a distance. They both froze.

  “Carajo, eres un dominado, cabrón,” a man laughed from a distance.

  “Virgen Santa María dice que si no consigo esas cortinas hiponoseque hoy duermo con el perro. No es chiste, cabrón,” the distinct voice of Gerardo Perez replied with a sigh. This was it, they were really here.

  “Pussy,” the first man’s voice laughed again. Their voices sounded closer; they were making their way toward Benjamin and Delaney.

  “Bollocks,” she cursed under her breath and grabbed his hand. She dragged him all the way to a small utility closet and closed the door gently.

  The space was so reduced that they were practically on top of each other. Under different c
ircumstances, he would’ve liked to address the fact, but the reality was that at least two dangerous, possibly armed cartel members were right outside. The adrenaline rush he felt at the moment had nothing to do with the woman in his arms.

  More voices spoke from the other side of the door. What was this, a cartel convention? In hindsight, it probably hadn’t been the smartest move not to notify the police of their discovery. He got so caught up playing detective the last couple of days that he forgot he had no training whatsoever for situations like this.

  Something was wrong with Delaney. She was clutching his neck so tight he had trouble breathing. “This is not the moment for you to start panicking,” he whispered angrily at her. He was panicking himself, but he was allowed. He was just a regular guy, not a super detective like her.

  “I don’t do well in confined spaces.” Came her muffled reply. Her heart rate was sky high, and he didn’t feel her breathing. Oh, this was just precious.

  He kept an ear on the voices outside, and as soon as he stopped hearing them, he tried to open the door to let her out. “Fuck, it’s locked,” he cursed.

  She clutched him harder upon hearing this. Of all the bizarre things that happened to him in the past few days, a vulnerable Delaney Stark holding on to him as if her life depended on him had to top the list. From the first moment he met her, he recognized the warrior in her. In her polished mannerisms, sharp wit and all-seeing eyes was a woman capable of conquering the world. It was a startling awakening to find she had fears like the rest of it.

  A small eternity later, there was another unexpected sound coming from the outside. Blaring police sirens.

  Benjamin could not discern any of what was happening clearly, but it seemed like Gerardo and company had a visit from his friends in blue. He heard an officer speaking on his radio close to their hiding place, so he took a chance. Delaney was still petrified, and he had to do something. He started banging on the door until he heard the officer outside report to his comrades about them.

  Everything happened in accelerated motion after that. The door was opened, and the flashlights from the police blinded him momentarily on the way out. They must have been inside for hours; it was almost already night outside.

  After identifying themselves, the officers led them to where the EMTs were waiting. They came prepared for a raid, that much was obvious.

  “Paula called them,” Delaney explained as he looked around expectantly. There was still no word of Lara.

  “What?” he asked distractedly.

  “Paula called the police. I texted her on the way here. Look, I just wanted to say thank you,” she added, a sheepish expression on her face. It was cute. He did not need to think of her as cute. Not until Lara was safely found.

  “Thank you for what? I didn’t do anything,” he replied.

  “For letting me hold on,” she said simply.

  He smiled. “Anytime, sweetheart.”

  “And don’t call me sweetheart.”

  His smile broadened.

  He was about to reply when he saw her. Lara. Covered in bruises like in the pictures, a blanket wrapped around her as a female officer led her out of the warehouse. His heart lurched violently, and he started running toward her.

  Benjamin did not stop until his arms were full of his little sister. Her voice, broken and timid, so unlike anything he ever heard from her in his life, croaked “Benny,” before she dissolved in tears, holding on to him like Delaney did not half an hour ago. As he held her, everything righted itself in his universe. He looked to the other side of the warehouse courtyard, to where a still pale Delaney was being berated by her redheaded friend. She held his gaze, a question in her eyes.

  He nodded. It was all he needed to say. His face conveyed his gratitude.

  Delaney smiled.

  Epilogue

  Delaney observed her hall, elegantly decorated for the fundraising gala her nana made her host every year in the family townhouse. This year, Tamara wasn’t here to serve as the smiling hostess, so the task unfortunately fell on her own shoulders. There weren’t many people she feared, but her nana certainly made the list years ago. It was better not to cross her and just smile through the pain of having to make inane small talk with the arrogant snobs with big pocketbooks who currently ambled through her residency.

  There was Shubert Montgomery, of the Philadelphia Montgomerys, ogling Felicity next to the piano. Her undercover expert admittedly looked stunning in her golden gown. Delaney smiled when she saw a fuming Greg walking determinedly towards them, little Madeline trailing behind him in a golden dress matching her mother’s.

  In the left corner, she saw Karen and Paula, along with Jaime Moskowitz from Customs and Immigrations, heatedly discussing something. Karen was gesticulating wildly; Jaime smiled in amusement; Paula looked a bit outraged. Her best friend’s flaming red hair seemed more alive than usual. It didn’t happen often, but when the Mexican and the Scottish disagreed about something, blood tended to be drawn. She should probably keep an eye on the situation, lest the man got caught in the crossfire. He was a bit handy with those weekly reports of his.

  Delaney loved to be a part of the festivities, but from a distance. Observing the world around her required all five senses to be aware of every small detail. She didn’t observe with her eyes alone. The team that she was incredibly fond of could never do it; it wasn’t something that could be taught.

  She knew her acquaintances all thought of her as eccentric. She was too smart and too rich to be called crazy, so eccentric was probably not a bad choice of word. Over the years, people learned to leave Eccentric Delaney Stark alone, else she might rudely divulge secrets everybody knew of but only whispered about like it was polite. From a young age, her favorite thing to do at events like these was to stand in the middle of the room and take in all of the attendants’ tells and cues. She probably deduced more of these people’s dirt than she cared to admit. She could bullshit like the best of them—these Americans had the most peculiar expressions—but she usually had very little tolerance for such sentiments from these people.

  Just when she was going to see about the Karen/Paula situation, her favorite song by Nina Simone started playing. She closed her eyes in appreciation; music was one the few things that numbed her brain from the connections. It was at least the safest thing.

  “May I have this dance?” A voice interrupted her musical ecstasy. A voice she hadn’t heard in over a week, but still remembered whispering reassurances in her ear in that dark utility closet.

  Benjamin stood in front of her, looking extremely handsome in a white tuxedo and laughing eyes.

  She arched an eyebrow. “What are you doing here?”

  “I received an invitation this morning. I assume from one of your minions. Probably Greg. Did you know we root for the same baseball team?”

  Delaney sighed. “I did not, as a matter of fact.”

  “You do realize my hand is hovering in midair, waiting for you to give me yours so we can dance, right? It’s getting uncomfortable.” He cocked his head to the side in thought.

  She mutely extended her own hand, too caught up in the staring match to notice nobody else was dancing. Prior to meeting this man, that just never happened.

  “How is your sister doing?” she asked softly.

  “She’s alive. That’s what matters.” He shrugged. “I’m giving her space, which is what she told me she needs. There will be time for questions later.”

  She could feel his hands through the thin satin that made up most of her gown, traveling the length of her back. They swayed to Nina’s raspy crooning, as she sang about feeling good. She rested her head on his shoulder, and it was nice. He smelled of Old Spice and coffee. As far as perfect moments went, this one ranked pretty high, although she would never tell him so.

  The moment was interrupted by a tug of her dress in her midsection area. She glared at Benjamin, thinking tugging games were a bit beneath him. He frowned back.

  “Aunt Delaney,
there is a message for you,” the source of the tugging proclaimed from below. It was Madeline, trying to get her attention.

  “What message, darling?” she asked.

  The little girl shrugged, looking mildly annoyed. “I don’t know. The man told me to give it to you. I don’t read letters that are not for me. Greg told me it’s not cool,” Madeline explained, exhaling heavily as if the matter troubled her deeply.

  Delaney extended her hand to receive the message, a smidge of apprehension coursing through her body. It was a sturdy looking envelope. Peering around to determine who was prone to such theatrics in the room, Delaney concluded that it could have come from pretty much any person in attendance. Her grandmother’s acquaintances loved dramatics.

  As she started to read the note, she really wished, perhaps irrationally, that it had been one of her nana’s friends.

  For the first time in seven years, true fear settled inside her. It had been that long since she heard from this man, and it had been that long since she wished she never did again. Her youthful lack of judgment, the only token on Earth of her rebellious little phase, the very reason she hated enclosed spaces, was mocking her with seemingly harmless words. Why was he warning her now? It simply didn’t compute.

  “Something wrong?” her dancing partner asked, his hands still circling her waist.

  Delaney looked back into Benjamin’s smiling eyes as the words replayed over and over in her head, a whisper from a figure she never thought would come back into her life.

  “Not a thing,” she lied as her gaze wandered back to the piece of paper she had in her hands.