“Please, Senor Ramos, let me begin by explaining what happened, how things went—”
“I do not wish to hear how you failed. I wish to hear what you are doing to succeed.”
Roberto swallowed. A handsome young man with his olive skin and jet-black hair. In his late twenties, he was smart or he would not be working for Eduardo. He had been educated in the States, preferred to call himself Bobby, but he had learned quickly that he could earn far more money working in Colombia.
“I have hired more men as you instructed,” Roberto said. “Members of the same group, Mara Salvatrucha. Here they are known as MS-13. The men are angry at the deaths of their brothers and determined to extract revenge from those responsible. Which works in our favor. Still, they demanded to be paid more. They say the risks are now greater, which is true. I agreed to pay what they asked. I assumed that would be your wish.”
Eduardo nodded. The pittance more it would cost meant nothing to a man like Luis Montoya. “If they bring me the girl, the cost will be worth it.”
“Of those who were involved in the failed attempt, several were killed, but only one apprehended. He will not talk to the police. He knows his family will pay the price if he does.”
Eduardo nodded. “Good. That is good. We need to locate the girl and make plans.”
“Sí, Senor Ramos.” For the next few minutes, Roberto filled him in, telling Eduardo everything he had learned about the Winston girl and her lover, Chase Garrett, the man who had traveled with her to Colombia to find her brother, the same man who protected her in Dallas and had rescued her from his men the night of the fire.
When Chavez finished, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a cracked cell phone with a broken screen. “This belonged to Garrett. He dropped it after he was shot. It no longer works, but perhaps it will help you in some way.”
Eduardo reached out and took the phone. “I will find the girl. Tell the men to be ready. Once we have her location, they must be prepared to move.” He looked at Roberto hard. “There cannot be another failure.”
“No, Senor Ramos. I understand.”
Eduardo’s gaze darkened. “Do you? Senor Montoya will not be so forgiving a second time.”
Roberto’s face paled beneath his dark skin.“Sí, senor.”
“I will call when I have the necessary information,” Eduardo said. “You may go.”
Chavez made a curt bow of his head, turned and walked out of the suite.
Eduardo glanced down at the phone in his hand. He opened the back and removed the SIM card. Walking over to the laptop he had set up on the desk against the wall, he dug into the briefcase beside it and took out the tools he needed.
In minutes he had a card reader plugged into a USB port, the SIM card in the slot at the back of the reader. The data began to flow into the computer. Emails, text messages, phone contacts, a treasure trove of information about the man who owned the phone.
Chase Garrett, Harper Winston’s lover and devoted protector, would lead him to the girl. Eduardo smiled. It was almost too easy.
Chapter Forty
Aharsh wind blew over the Dallas streets. Cars dodged leaves and blowing papers while pedestrians pulled up the collars of their coats and huddled into the folds. The usual sixty-five-degree late-October days had fallen into the low fifties, and a storm hovered on the horizon.
“You ready for this?” Chase stopped Harper just outside the Bernstein Law Office on the sixth floor of a ten-story high-rise on North Central Parkway.
“No. I’m never going to be ready for my father to explain why he’s a criminal. Unfortunately, I don’t have any choice.”
Chase opened the door, and they walked into an opulent office with deep burgundy carpet and dark wood paneling. French Impressionist art hung on the walls, and Rodin-inspired sculptures sat on pedestals and on the table in front of a tailored burgundy sofa and chairs.
Chase let Harper precede him up to the receptionist desk, where a svelte brunette in a gray skirt suit sat behind a computer.
“May I help you?” the woman asked.
“Harper Winston and Chase Garrett, here to see Mr. Bernstein.”
“Of course.” The brunette rose from her chair. “Please follow me.” As she led them down a hall into the interior of the office, the woman tossed Chase a glance he ignored. He wasn’t interested in other women. Hadn’t been since the day he and Harper had flown off to the Caribbean to find her brother.
When Harper picked up on the exchange and cast him a look down the length of her pretty nose, he found his mouth edging up. He liked that she cared. He liked it a lot. But before he could do anything about it, he had to find a way to keep her safe.
The receptionist held the door open, and Chase followed Harper into a conference room dominated by a polished mahogany table surrounded by eight round-backed rolling chairs. The door closed behind them, giving them privacy.
Seated at the far end of the table, Knox Winston’s gaze zeroed in on Chase as he walked into the room, and though the man knew Chase would be accompanying his daughter, his silver-threaded eyebrows knit in anger.
