Cowboy Delirium

“That’s more like it.” Luke went back for the goods, giving Rio the opportunity he’d been waiting for.

“Is this about a ransom or a payback?” he asked Poncho.

“A ransom. If it were payback, she’d be dead.”

“Who’s the victim?”

“Jaime Collingsworth.”

“Collingsworth as in Collingsworth Oil?”

“Could be.”

“So this is about money?”

“You’ll find that out if and when you need to know.”

“I didn’t sign on to be treated like a second-class citizen.”

“You do as you’re told, Rio.”

“That’s not how it was explained to me. I’m a Navy SEAL. We don’t play the role of flunky.”

“You were a SEAL. Now you’re just the new guy on the block. The boss wants proof you’re a hundred percent before he invites you to the dinner table.”

“Carlos would have never thrown me a crumb if he hadn’t checked me out fully. I was told I’d be a key player.”

Poncho leaned on the short counter that separated the kitchen from the rest of the room. “This kidnapping is big, Rio. See this through without a glitch, and you’ll see plenty of action next time from the inside out. And your bonus will make all the trouble worthwhile.”

“I’ll see it through, but I don’t want any more surprises like the abduction tonight. And I’d just as soon you take that buffoon with you when you leave.” He nodded toward the door where Luke had stepped outside. “He’ll be nothing but trouble for me.”

“Luke’s not as dumb as he seems. And the boss trusts him to do as he’s told without talking. That counts.”

Carlos might trust Luke, but Rio didn’t, especially now that he had the sexy spitfire thrown into the mix. Any way he looked at it she was solid trouble. When the pin is pulled, Mr. Grenade is not your friend.

Odd how that old Murphy’s Law of military combat came back to haunt him even now.

He needed more information about the woman, and he wasn’t going to get it from Poncho. That meant he needed a minute without Luke hanging over his shoulder. He had to bide his time.

When Luke returned to guard the victim, Poncho and Rio did a quick walk-through of the small cabin.

There were two bedrooms, one with a couple of twin beds, the other with a double bed. The one window in that room had been securely boarded up. The door locked with a key from the outside. No doubt this was Jaime’s room.

The furnishings in Jaime’s temporary prison consisted of the bed with a saggy mattress and pine bedside table topped with a cypress-knee lamp that looked as if it had been crafted by a six-year-old. Rio flicked on the lamp. To his surprise it worked.

A pine rocker with a deerskin seat sat next to the door that led to a bathroom the size of a small broom closet. It held only a toilet and a stained sink. The rusting medicine cabinet on the wall was missing a cover. It had been mirrored, Rio surmised, and removed so that Jaime couldn’t break it and use a jagged sliver of the glass as a weapon.

Jaime had revived enough that she was sitting up straight in the chair when Poncho finally took his leave. She pulled her arms over her chest and looked Rio in the eye. “Whatever he’s paying you to keep me here, I can pay you more to let me go.”

Luke walked over and propped on the arm of her chair and stroked her chin with a slightly crooked finger. “Now why would we want to let a pretty lady like you leave?”

She shoved his hand away. “Because if you don’t, my brothers will find you and kill you.”

“Yeah, well, your brothers aren’t here now, are they, sweet thing? It’s just you and us.”

Rio stiffened. “Let up, Luke.”

“Don’t get so huffed up. No one said she’s yours.”

“I’m saying it.” Rio walked over and tugged Jaime to a standing position. He pulled her close and let his hand cup her firm buttock so that Luke didn’t miss the message. “You’re off duty now, Luke. I’m taking over for the night.” He led Jaime toward the bedroom.

She snarled as he pushed her inside, her words still a bit slurred when she said, “Go ahead. Get your filthy kicks, but I promise you’ll rue the day forever that you kidnapped me.”

Rio figured that was a damn safe bet.

Chapter Three

Jaime jerked free of Rio’s grasp and stumbled away from him, bracing herself to fight him off. Not that she could. She’d have never broken free at all if he hadn’t intentionally loosened his grip on her arm.

The physical advances didn’t come. Instead the man stood with his back against the closed bedroom door. “Don’t worry,” he said. “All I want from you, Jaime Collingsworth, is a few answers.”

Relief left her weak, but tension still crackled in the stuffy, dimly lit room. He knew her name. That didn’t surprise her. “I thought you had all the answers.”

“I’m working on it. Tell me about your family.”

“What about them?”

“Are they wealthy?”

“No,” she quipped. “They’re dirt poor and mean. Rattlesnake mean.”

“So that’s where you get your winning personality. Let’s start over and this time, stick to the truth.”

“Why, because you’ll do something drastic like kidnap me and lock me up in a filthy, disgusting room if I lie?”

“I don’t suppose you’d believe me if I said I’d like to keep you safe.”

She studied the man she’d first considered a hunk. In any other situation, she would have found him attractive in a rugged, risky sort of way. His jawline was craggy, his physique muscular without having the exaggerated features of a body builder.

He was taller than Buerto by a good four inches, which put him well over six feet. His short, thick hair was blue-black, like midnight on a moonless night.

But it was his eyes, the color of rich cognac, piercing yet shadowed with mysterious incongruities, that got to her the most. They tempted her to believe there really might be more than evil lurking behind those burning depths.

She couldn’t afford that luxury.

“The other men called you Rio. Is that your real name or just an alias?”

“It’s my name. Tell me about your brothers,” he coaxed. “Are they in politics?”