Page 30 of Dangerous Liaisons

Michael drew on his cigar.

Jesse took a deep breath. “I’ve been accused of selling information that got five men killed.”

He glanced sharply at her. Three heartbeats of a pause drew out before he said, “Were these men important?”

“If you call Special Forces important, yes.”

“Ah.” Michael looked back at the street. “What do you want from me?”

“The man who is said to have paid me for this information is Colombian. It’s asking a lot, Michael, but I need to find him.”

“Who is this man?”

“Amadeo Perez.”

Michael halted. “Amadeo Perez, the drug lord?”

Jesse nodded.

Michael started walking again. They strolled in silence while he drew hard on his cheroot. “You’re right. It is asking a lot. What makes you think I can help?”

“I need the information, Mikey.”

He laughed. “The ends justify the means. You’ve changed, Jessica.”

Anger shot through her. “I’m not asking you to murder anyone, just get me a piece of information. Anything that happens to Perez as a result won’t be any great loss.”

“You plan on killing him?”

The quick response startled her back to reason. “No. I don’t kill people. That’s never been my business.” Killing hadn’t been her business, but she had killed—twice. The taste still turned her stomach. “I gather information.”

“But you don’t sell it?”

“I haven’t changed, Mikey.” But she had. Just how much, she wasn’t sure.

He sighed. Jesse remembered that sigh all too well, and it gave her hope. Michael Quesada was a tough man, but he was also sensible and sensitive. A poet at heart—a poet born into the wrong family—which is why she still thought of him as Mikey, The pet name she’d him on their first date.

They reached the end of the street. Michael took a final puff on his cigar, then dropped it on the ground and snuffed it out with the toe of his boot.

“I don’t know Perez, Jessica.”

“I know. A lead, Mikey, that’s all I need.”

He laughed. “You and every other D.E.A. agent in the U. S.”

“I’m not D.E.A.” She paused, then added, “One more thing.”

He lifted a brow. The expression on his face contained a hint of incredulousness. “You always did have guts. What is it?”

“I need information on a Cole Smith. He started out in the military, Afghanistan, Iraq, then moved into Special Forces. I hear he was part of the mission I’m supposed to have sold out. I need to know everything about him you can get.”

Michael gave a nearly silent laugh, then sighed again. “I won’t be coming back to Santa Marta for a long time. Do you still have that fantastic memory?”

Jesse nodded.

“Mquesada at bogatel dot com. Email me in three days. I’ll send you what I find.” He shook his head. “I can’t hand you Perez. No one can. If you don’t hear from me, then I didn’t get anything.” He leveled his gaze on her. “Or I changed my mind.”

“I understand.”

Michael stepped from the sidewalk onto the street. “Don’t come looking for me again, Jessica.”

Jesse watched him cross the street, then stroll down the sidewalk until he blended with the shadows. This really was the last time she would see him. The thought hurt.