“Let me call my partner, Silas Duran,” he told her. “He can make the arrangements for a security escort, and I can wait with you until everything is in place, so you can leave.”
“You trust this Silas?” she asked.
Russ nearly gave her an automatic yes—but stopped. He settled for a nod.
Silas was a fellow agent and probably well trained. But Russ didn’t like that Silas had only been on this case for a couple of days. He also didn’t like that Silas might have pulled strings to get the assignment. That’s the way it seemed to Russ, anyway. But that was a problem for him to mull over when he had more time.
She opened her door and looked at him. She nibbled lightly on her bottom lip, caught it between her teeth for several seconds. “I suppose you want to see Emily?”
He did. But the timing was all wrong.
Or was it?
Russ didn’t know how long it would take to get this investigation back on track, and he couldn’t leave San Saba until Milo put him in touch with the head honcho—the slimeball only identified as Z. Russ wanted to find Z and lock him away for a long, long time for what he’d done. If it took him weeks or longer to do that, it would be weeks before he first got to see his niece.
“Yeah,” Russ heard himself say. “I’d like to see her. I won’t stay long.”
He had to pay an uncle’s tribute to his dead brother’s child and give Julia a promise that he would be back as soon as he could.
Since Julia was obviously too anxious to stay put any longer, Russ took out his phone and called Silas while they made their way into the hotel. He also kept watch around them, and breathed a little easier, once they made it into the lobby.
“Russ,” Silas answered, “I was just about to call you.”
Oh, no. Even though he’d only been working with Silas a short time, he knew that tone, and this wasn’t good news.
“Where are you now?” Silas asked.
“With Julia Howell.” Ahead of him, Julia made it to the elevator and jabbed the up button. “She’s about to leave for her estate, but I need to request a security detail for her.”
“We have a problem. She can’t leave,” Silas said.
Russ hoped he’d misunderstood. “What do you mean?”
“I mean she can’t leave. If she does, this investigation is over, and you get to start it from scratch.”
Because he might lose signal in the elevator, Russ clamped onto Julia’s arm to stop her from stepping into it.
“I need to check on Emily,” she insisted.
Russ pulled her to the side so he could continue this conversation, a discussion that he was positive he wasn’t going to like.
“Explain,” Russ told Silas.
“Milo just called his contact to set up another meeting for tomorrow afternoon. We can choose the exact time and the location.”
Russ relaxed a little. Maybe the investigation hadn’t been ruined. Maybe he could rescue that baby after all. “Well, that’s good. The meeting’s critical.” And it was critical they control the location so they could set up security.
“No, it’s not good.” Silas said, cursing. A first. He had never heard Silas use even mild profanity before.
Russ listened to Silas’s news. Yep, it was bad all right. And a few moments later, he was doing his own cursing. “Can we change Milo’s mind?” Russ asked.
“No. Believe me, I tried, but he was adamant. We can take extra precautions. We can even bring in a few more agents. So the question is, do you think you can talk Julia Howell into cooperating?”
Russ looked over her at and saw the nerves right there at the surface. He could possibly convince her to do what Milo wanted. Possibly. But even if they controlled the security and the meeting place, it didn’t mean something wouldn’t go wrong. Julia could ultimately be in more danger than she already was. If that was possible.
Milo would dig to find out who she was, and then he’d wonder why an heiress worth fifty million would get involved with a lowlife like Jimmy Marquez. By doctoring her records, they could make it work.
Well, maybe … if they could convince Milo that Julia had a thing for slumming or bad boys.
“The stakes are too high to fail,” Silas reminded him.
Yeah. And that was the real bottom line.
One way or another, even if he had to resort to begging, even if he had to put her in more danger, Russ had to bring Julia deeper into this.
Because a baby’s life depended on it.
The moment Russ ended his call, Julia got them into the elevator. Everything inside her was starting to spin. Her breathing was too fast. Her thoughts were going a mile a minute.
She tried to make herself slow down, so she could think this through, but the only thing that kept going through her mind was the importance of keeping Emily safe. Later, she’d berate herself for coming here to San Saba before she had thoroughly assessed the dangers. Julia had been in such a hurry to carry out Lissa’s dying wish that she hadn’t considered that some dying wishes just couldn’t be fulfilled.
This was obviously one of them.
She had to grab Emily and leave the minute Russ had a security escort in place.
When the elevator door finally opened, Julia rushed out. She fished her keycard from her purse and slid it into the lock as soon as she reached the door. Then she hesitated—looked back at Russ, who was right on her heels.
“What?” he asked. After a moment of studying her face, he cocked his eyebrow. “Trust me, I’m having second thoughts about being here with you, too. But unless you got a time machine in that purse, we can’t go back to the bar and undo what happened.”
True, but Julia still didn’t open the door. “Just how much are things messed up?”
“They’re messed up,” he answered. Now it was his turn to hesitate. “But I swear I’ll do everything humanly possible to keep Emily safe.”
Julia nodded. That was something at least. “You should know, I don’t handle danger well. Old wounds.” She added “Literally.” Out of breath, she knew she had to get control of herself.
He touched his fingers to his chest. “Does this mean you’re about to have a panic attack or something?”
“No,” she snapped.
That wasn’t exactly the truth. She might have one. It wouldn’t be the first.
“I’m not sure what it means. I just thought you should know that alley meetings and having guns pointed at me aren’t things I can handle.”
“You already have,” he reminded her.
“Things I can’t handle again,” she said. “Or after the fact. I usually don’t break during the heat of the moment, but afterward, all bets are off.”
Russ stared at her, and that stare reminded her