It was the most expensive piece she possessed, on consignment from an elderly woman at her church. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. What did this man want, showing up late, asking specifically about the stone figure so soon after someone ransacked the place looking for...something? “I have one on consignment, but it’s not here. It’s a rare piece, and the shop is not secure enough to house it. If you’d like to see it, I can make arrangements for us to meet elsewhere, but I should tell you the owner is asking for ten thousand, and she’s not willing to negotiate that price.” Actually, if left on her own with a smooth talker, Senora Noguerra would likely wind up giving the priceless artifact away. That was the main reason Danielle had convinced the older lady to let her handle the sale, even though she didn’t generally work with consignments or deal in artifacts worth that much money.
“Understandable. If you have a business card, I can call you after the holidays and set up a time. I definitely want to see it. If someone else expresses interest before we can meet, let them know I’ll beat any price.”
“Certainly.” Her voice stayed level. Amazing, given the way her chest tightened in anticipation. She’d get Senora Noguerra a good price, maybe even higher than she’d dreamed, and finally allow the elderly lady some breathing room in her finances. Danielle pulled a card from her pocket and handed it over.
He took it by the edge and glanced at it. “Danielle Segovia.” When he lifted his eyes again, he found hers immediately, reading her expression. The full force of those brown eyes was almost more than she could handle. She nodded and said a quick prayer he’d leave soon, before she asked him to walk next door for coffee or something stupid like that.
Which she couldn’t do. Justin was due back to the apartment soon, and Danielle had a few things to say about the late nights her younger brother had been keeping lately. She’d gotten the automatic email from the school today. His grades were dipping. This wasn’t the time to be flirting with a man, even if he did take the time to honor her mother’s memory, unlike everyone else who came in and plunked the statue down when they found out it wasn’t genuine.
The stranger extended his hand. “I’m Colter Beckett.” His grip was strong and warm, and he held on tightly for an instant longer than he should have, spiking electricity up her arm before he pulled away. “I’ll talk to you in a few days.” He turned and left the store, disappearing up the sidewalk toward the end of the building.
Danielle slumped against the pedestal and whistled low. Wow. Wait until she told Zoe about this guy. She balled her fist to hold on to the warmth of his hand, then shook it out just as quickly. Stupid. She had better things to do than give in to the impulse to run to the window and watch Colter Beckett walk away.
She had a fifteen-year-old brother to raise.
Puffing out one more breath, Danielle locked the front of the shop and killed the lights. Grabbing her purse from the back, she set the alarm and stepped out into the chilled El Paso night, straining to see the stars overhead. If this cold snap kept up much longer, they might actually get snow for Christmas. A genuine rarity.
As she pulled her keys from her purse, an engine started in the small alley behind the shop. When she lifted her head, headlights blinded her.
Danielle froze instinctively, even as she tried to tell herself that there was no reason to believe she was in danger. Maybe it was some kids using her back lot to hang out. Maybe one of the cops who’d said they’d drive by after the break-in had finally made good on the promise. It would be the first time.
But then a huge man, broad and bulky, stepped into the headlights and stalked toward her, his silhouette a hulk in the brightness.
Danielle backed up two steps before she bumped into the locked door of her shop, dropping her purse. She turned to run for the parking lot.
But the man was faster. A thick arm wrapped around her waist and jerked her backward against a beefy chest, crushing the air from her lungs before she could scream.
“It’s her.” Colt switched the phone to his earpiece then turned the key in the ignition, speaking before Austin could say hello. “I had her give me a business card. We can pull a print to be sure. I’m to get in touch with her after the holiday, and we’ll see how much intel I can gather before we take her in. Once she trusts me as a runner for hire, we’re in.”
“Brent’s not going to like this.”
The muscle under Colt’s eye jumped, the place where his stress seemed to show the most. Ranger Brent McCord had once been a close friend, but this Adriana Garcia thing had fractured that friendship. McCord said the woman had once saved his life, and based on that single encounter, he refused to credit any of the evidence against her—even when it came to Greg’s murder.
Colt didn’t dispute that her actions had prevented Brent’s execution...but she’d probably had some darker, hidden motive for it. A woman who could kill so indiscriminately would only save a Ranger if the choice in some way benefitted her. Maybe she’d even planned for this to happen—for Brent’s defense of her to create cracks in their Ranger team.
“He saw Adriana Garcia five years ago for under two minutes. Not enough time to be a reliable judge of her character. Brent needs to remember to be objective.”
“So do you.”
“This woman is the reason Valentina Hernandez was killed. She killed Greg with—”
“Nobody knows the stakes more than I do, Blackthorn. Believe me.” Austin ground out the words. “But we don’t have concrete proof that Adriana killed Greg. No matter what we feel, we have to remember, innocent until—”
“Got it.”
“Loosen up, or you’re going to tip her off. Either that, or Vance is going to pull all of us and bring in another team.”
“I said I’ve got it.” Only Colt wasn’t so certain anymore. Through his whole career, his instincts had been his guide. He was known as the man who could feel danger before it happened. Now? He’d missed the fact that his best friend was a traitor. Colt dropped his head against the headrest and glared at the ceiling.
But he was right this time. As pleasant as she seemed, as soft as her eyes had gotten when she’d spun that story about her mother, as much as her supposed grief had tugged for just a second at Colt’s own, he knew they had their woman.
With a deep breath, he reached for his seat belt and tilted his head forward, movement catching at the edges of his vision.
At the back of the shopping center, a man dragged a woman toward a dark blue two-door sedan that had seen better days.
The woman twisted and fought with all she had. With a massive head thrust backward, she caught the brute in the jaw and broke free, crashing to her knees on the cracked asphalt, a dark curtain of hair falling across her face.
Recognition jolted through Colt and his jaw tightened as he ran through his options for intervening. Jump out and run for the fight without knowing what he was getting into, or gun the engine and blow in through tire-squealing smoke.
The would-be captor reached down and hauled Colt’s suspect to her feet, backhanding her so hard she fell against the open trunk of the car, where he stuffed her in the rest of the way and slammed the lid.
No time to make it on foot now.
“We’ve got trouble.” He clicked his seat belt and jammed the car into Drive, tires squealing as he gunned the engine and raced toward the man trying to take their suspect away. The blood rushed hot in his veins as he relayed what he was seeing to Austin, who called for backup.
He