Page 91 of Dare to Love Again

She stood to do as he ordered but froze when another man appeared behind him.

“Pax?” She blinked, not believing her dear friend, whom she’d missed and worried about for what seemed like forever, was at Rossi. “What are you doing here?”

He came forward, his arms open, and she went into them happily.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured against her hair. “I’m sorry I left you so abruptly, and to such a shitstorm.”

Her head fell back, to ask how he’d heard, but his hand came up to touch her bruised cheek, his face growing dark with anger. “Carlos did this?”

“Yes, but it’s fine.” She hugged him tight. “I’m glad you’re back safe. Are you done with your mission?”

“It wrapped up today, thanks to your man and his team.”

She glanced at Finn who still stood in the doorway looking on.

“I don’t understand.”

“Finnegan here keeps closing my cases for me. Martin Lopez and his drug family are out of business because of him, which was case number one. We never identified the leader, however, which made finding him case number two for me, which Rossi handled as well.”

She stared up at him blankly.

“It was Carlos Hernandez, sweetheart.”

“You’re kidding.”

He shook his head. “Imagine my shock when I learned our prime suspect had joined the same club as me. I was getting ready to go undercover and couldn’t risk him seeing me. We built a solid case against him and were only days away from making an arrest, but we wanted the money, too. When Finn tipped us off today about how he was spiraling out of control, we couldn’t wait any longer. Too bad by the time we got to the scene, we’d missed the big finish. The Rossi men had everything locked down and tied with a nice neat bow.”

Eric slapped him on the shoulder. “Which proves you should stop fooling around with the Feds who are always a day late and a dollar short and come work for us.” He became serious when he turned to her, and his hand cupped the side of her head in an affectionate, big-brother-style gesture. “You’re safe now, little one. He won’t bother you again—ever.”

He spoke with finality, but she asked to be certain. “You mean, he’s—”

“Dead,” Pax answered succinctly.

“Good riddance to bad rubbish, my mother always said. Who took him out?” Thomas asked.

“He did it himself,” Eric supplied, on the move again, crossing the room to Val.

Thomas grunted. “Knew he was a weak bastard; most bullies are. What happened that he took the coward’s way out?”

“He was holed up at a family home in Walnut Park, the owner one Martina Lopez Castillo,” Finn answered. Largely silent, he hadn’t moved, his eyes fixed on Esme still in Pax’s arms.

They were merely friends, never more so, and she loved him like family, but she could feel the intensity of Finn’s gaze from across the room. She stepped back. Pax, who must have sensed it, too, let her go, a smile tipping his lips.

“Esme—” Finn started.

“Let me guess,” Thomas spoke over him, trying to get the full story, since he’d missed out on the action while keeping tabs on her. “Carlos is related to Martin’s mama somehow.”

“You’d be right. Carlos Castillo Hernandez is her nephew,” Eric supplied.

“It’s so confusing when everyone has three names,” Val observed.

“In Mexico, it’s tradition to take both parents’ surnames,” Esme explained to her. “I learned that only recently at work.”

“You’re right, lass. Castillo was his father’s family and Hernandez his mother’s, which is reversed to our way of thinking,” Finn told her. “That’s why we didn’t make the connection right away, and it didn’t help he dropped the Castillo when he moved to the states. If I’d had that intel, I would have linked him immediately to Lopez and Roger Cassell, aka Rogelio Castillo our client back in San Antonio.”

He held out his hand to her and repeated, “Come here, Esme,” just as Eric bit out an emphatic curse.

“I can’t fucking believe he slipped through our screening process. And I’m shocked he was the brains of the operation.”

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