“Our ride.”
Gritting his teeth, he hoped the hell Rafe had come through, and not with an SUV that looked like a typical Fed vehicle. He needed to look innocuous, but on short notice, he worried Rafe wouldn’t be able to pull this off.
He turned his attention to the train tracks. Early morning sunlight glinted off a still unrusty section of railroad track. A dense canopy of tall, spindly Australian pines flanked the tracks, swaying in the breeze. Trash littered the tracks—soda cans, orange peels, candy bar wrappers. Brush and sun daisies grew between the tracks. The colorful yellow flowers softened the sense of decay and neglect. Grackles crowed in the nearby trees. A few dropped down to forage for scraps in the litter lining the railroad tracks.
Nature takes over everything eventually, if given enough time.
A few minutes later, a sleek black sedan drove up behind them and stopped. Engine still running, the driver’s side door opened.
Jace breathed relief as Rafe stepped out of the vehicle, leaving the door open. Never one to drop his guard, his team leader scanned the surroundings, not once, but twice, before putting distance between himself and the car. The car was an older model, nondescript, but gleaming in the harsh sunlight.
“Now we get off,” he told Kara, turning off the engine and dismounting.
As Jace grabbed their backpacks from the saddlebags, Kara removed the helmet and placed it on the seat next to the one he’d placed there. They walked over to the car. Jace bent down and peered inside. He rolled his eyes at the rearview mirror.
“Fuzzy dice?”
“My cousin’s car. He likes to gamble. Borrowed the wheels from him.”
Kara looked over Rafe as one might scrutinize a new ally. Or an enemy. Her gaze whipped back to Jace. “You look somewhat like Jace.”
Rafe offered a dazzling smile. Jace couldn’t see the resemblance. Yeah, they were about the same height, bearded, similar slender but muscle-toned build and had dark hair, but the resemblance ended there. Rafe’s skin was sun-darkened, hinting of his Hispanic origins.
His hair brushed the collar of his white dress shirt, where Jace’s was down to his shoulders.
“Hello. You’re Kara. Heard much about you, but Jace never mentioned how beautiful you are,” Rafe said in his deep voice.
“Funny. Jace never mentioned you,” she said.
Rafe gave a sharp bow. “Rafael Jones Rodriguez, at your service, Miss Wilmington.”
“Jones?” Kara’s brow wrinkled.
He shot her a toothsome, aw-shucks grin that usually made women melt. “I’m Cuban, on my mother’s side. My dad is Joshua Jones. Old family joke is keeping up with the Cuban Joneses.”
Kara’s pretty, glossy lips quirked up in a faint smile. Rafe’s dark eyes gleamed with intensity as he studied Kara. Rafe might be his friend and a top-notch, dedicated Federal agent, but he was a guy as well. Real ladies’ man, and the ladies loved him back. Kara, however, only sniffed and turned back to Jace.
He felt an utterly juvenile thrill that Rafe’s charm hadn’t had any effect on her.
“We’re leaving the bike with him?” she asked.
“Yeah. The car is less conspicuous. Just hope she’s fast.”
“Fast?” Rafe shook his head in apparent amusement. “We’re talking my cousin Luis, who’s a mechanic and swapped the original engine for real power. New tires, the works. Got a full tank of gas as well.” Rafe spoke to him but kept looking at Kara.
“Good enough. If they start shooting, I can always toss the fuzzy dice at them,” Jace drawled.
A joke to ease the uncomfortable tension, but Rafe’s smile dropped.
“That’s not funny, Jace.”
“I promise I won’t get any blood on the seats.”
“They start shooting, you get the hell away, Jace. That’s a direct order. I’ll be damned if I lose anyone else.”
Gone was the ladies’ man. Rafe turned into the stoic FBI agent who’d witnessed two of his men gunned down in a hail of bullets.
He didn’t like the dawning questions on Kara’s face, as if she was starting to put pieces together.
Raising his hand to his ear, he signaled Rafe he’d call him later. Rafe gave a brusque nod and walked around the car to open the passenger door for Kara.
Ever polite, Kara nodded. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Jones Rodriguez.”
Rafe didn’t answer but shut the door when she was settled inside. He helped Jace toss the two packs into the trunk. Then he fetched the extra helmet from the bike and tossed that inside as well.
“Here. I can’t use two helmets.”
Jace reached inside the car, removed the dice from the rearview mirror and handed them to Rafe. “Return these to your cousin. I can’t guarantee the car will be in terrific condition when he gets it back, but at least the dice will be intact.”
“We need to talk.” Rafe’s gaze flicked to Kara as he peered inside the car. “Alone. Excuse me, Kara, if I seem rude.”
He began speaking in rapid Spanish to Jace. Kara held up a hand. “Sorry. I’m fluent in Spanish. You’re saying something about critical information at this juncture?”
Rafe stared while Jace grinned. He didn’t know why, but he liked Rafe underestimating Kara.
“Let’s talk over here a minute. But only a minute. I have to get on the road.”
“We have to get on the road,” Kara pointed out.
