“I sent you that videotape of Octavio and the federales.”
“But how did you penetrate his organization…?”
Valdez’s smile grew hard. His eyes were equally cold. “Like all shadows, the Sombra has secrets he must keep.”
“Okay, I’m curious. Who the hell is this ‘disappeared’ heiress?”
“Mia Kemble.”
Terence whistled. “Of the Golden Spurs Ranch?”
Valdez handed him a photograph of a redheaded woman on a magnificent, black Arabian stallion. She was pale, and her eyes looked haunted. Tavio was holding the bridle as he stared up at her. Everything was just as Valdez had described. The murdering son of a bitch was besotted.
Terence’s blood congealed even as his heart began to thump at a maniacal pace.
“How do I know the picture isn’t fake?”
“Has the Sombra ever lied to you before?”
Terence shook his head. He couldn’t help but think of Abby. For her sake, the Kembles of the Golden Spurs Ranch were the last people on earth he should mess with.
If he refused, the Sombra would simply tip off some other reporter.
Hell. Once a bastard, always a bastard. When had he ever let his personal life get in the way of a good story?
“Can I keep the picture?”
Valdez smiled.
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