Chapter 50
“Sure,” Durrand said and stared at Shepherd, gaze level, voice dead steady. “Stay here if you want. Maybe this time you can convince your little chica that you’re preferable to the drug dealing murderer who financed Miller’s whole damn SNAFU.”
The too small hostel thrummed with silence. Eddy glanced from one man to the other.
“Maybe Santiago’s not the one who hired the hit on Herrera.”
“Well, it doesn’t really matter, does it?” Durrand asked. “Your girl left you to return to him.”
Shep ground his teeth. “She doesn’t know he’s a drug lord.”
“Oh, well then…” Durrand said and laughed, a low mirthless chuckle. “Looks like your taste is running toward the usual fare.” Rising abruptly, he stared down at the Okie.
“What the hell does that mean?” Shepherd rose, too. He looked as lean and hungry as a wolf.
“Let’s just take it easy,” Eddy said. They’d just endured two days of hell. Durrand had been sick with worry that he had hit Shepherd too hard. That his friend would never come to. But the cowboy had awakened while they were still traveling. Awakened and nearly tore the Pinto apart trying to return to Carlotta. Threats had been issued. Curses and accusations had followed, but they’d finally arrived in Borgata. Still, it was anybody’s guess if they would survive long enough to board their plane in two hours time.
“It means…” Durrand said, head lowered slightly. “She must be dumber than a fucking box of rocks.”
“She ain’t dumb,” Shepherd said. His voice was hollow.
“Then she’s a drug lord’s wh—”
Durrand never finished the word. Apparently, it’s difficult to talk when someone is slamming their knuckles into your jaw. He careened backward, snarled, then hunched forward ready to retaliate, but Eddy stepped in between them.
“Quit it! Just quit!” she yelled and stretched out her arms as if she could hold them back by sheer force of will. They paused for a second, glaring at each other. “Listen…” Her voice was shaky. “My leg hurts like hell, we’re running out of time, and there’s been enough blood spilled in this country without the two of you acting like morons.”
“The fucker cold-cocked me,” Shepherd snarled and shuffled to the left, ready to lunge again.
“He couldn’t leave you in the jungle, Linus. He only hit you because he cares about you.”
“The hell he did!”
“The hell I did!” Durrand echoed. “I hit him because he’s a damned idiot who never thinks—”
“And he’s sorry,” Eddy snapped, wresting her glare from one to the other. “Sorry he hurt you. Sorry he had to leave Carlotta behind. He didn’t want to do it. He just couldn’t bear the idea of losing you again.”
Resentment throbbed in the air like a smashed thumb.
“Is she right?” Shepherd asked finally, eyes hard on Durrand. “Are you sorry?”
“I’m sorry you’re such a—”
“See!” Eddy rasped and managed to refrain from rolling her eyes, from smacking Durrand upside the head. “He feels terrible that you were injured, and he blames himself for not convincing you to stay out of Colombia in the first place.”
Shepherd faced Durrand, maybe recognizing a whiff of the truth through the stink of testosterone. “It wasn’t your fucking decision. You’re not my boss,” he snarled and took a step forward.
Eddy put a trembling palm against his wall of his chest.
“Not your boss!” she snapped. “Your friend.” She drew a deep breath, steadying herself. “A friend who’d take a bullet for you. You probably didn’t even know he was shot.”
Shep’s brows lowered but then he snorted. “Ya mean the head wound? Hell, I’ve had worse mosquito bites.”
Durrand crunched his hands into fists. “You’ve always been an ungrateful son of a—”
“Not the head wound. The chest wound. He almost didn’t make it,” Eddy said. Her throat had grown tight, her voice low. “He nearly died trying to find you. I didn’t even know he’d been wounded. He just kept running, leading me through the jungle, despite his injuries. Getting me to safety so he could rescue you, his best friend. He’s the most loyal man I’ve—” Her voice cracked.
Durrand’s gaze was steady on her and she knew she should quit. Knew she had no right to think she understood him like no one else. No right to believe they were meant to be together. So what if she felt their souls had melded on that one night in Tevio’s hacienda? It had only been sex. So why did she feel like it meant everything?
“He’s loyal,” she said finally and cleared her throat. “And kind and brave and the best friend an ingrate like you will ever have.”
Shep snorted but didn’t disagree. Instead, he raised his chin a little, straightened slightly, and studied her with calculating, river-blue eyes.
“So how did you get involved with such a paragon, Jennifer Edwards?” he asked.
She didn’t answer immediately, but Shepherd continued.
“He came to ya with some sob story about how he was riddled with guilt ‘bout my leavin’ with Miller, didn’t he? How he intended to save me.” He nodded. “Yeah. That much is clear. He’s hell on wheels when it comes to guilt, but why did ya decide to come along on this little carnival ride through hell? That’s the question.”
She shrugged. “I’m a trained agent.”
Shepherd snapped his gaze to Durrand whose brows lowered another notch.
“Agent?” Shep asked.
She pursed her lips. “CIA.”
“Yeah?” He grinned crookedly. “Then why aren’t ya CIAin’?”
She shuffled her feet, uncomfortable, though she didn’t know why. “I believed at the time that getting your ass out of trouble was a worthy cause.”
“And Gabe thought it was a good idea to drag ya into this shithole?” Shep stared at her a second then barked a laugh.
Eddy gritted her teeth. She was just about ready to rap the ungrateful son of a bitch in the head herself. “I’m a master marksman,” she said.
“Oh, I believe it,” Shep admitted and shifted his gaze to Durrand. “If her looks don’t kill ya, her sharp shootin’ will, huh? And then she’s got that whole Spanish thing down, so ya don’t have to know shit, right? My question is…” He turned his attention back to her. “Why’d the CIA let a star student like you go?”
She shrugged. “I don’t think that’s relevant just now.”
“Let me guess,” Shep said. “They stuck ya behind a desk and ya wanted more. So when this knight in shinin’ armor came along with all his do-gooder ideas…” He motioned toward Gabe. “Ya jumped at the chance to get out of Dodge. Is that it?”
“Something like that.”
He frowned a little as he assessed her all-American features. “And ya just left the agency high and dry after all that trainin’ they gave ya?”
“I told them I wanted field experience.”
“And they refused?”
“Numerous times.”
“Even after ya threatened to quit?”
“They didn’t even answer my email.”
Shep’s brows jumped. “Ya emailed your resignation?”
She resisted fidgeting. “I just…I was upset.”
“Are ya sure they got it? I mean…emails go MIA all the time. In fact, McManning can make ‘em disappear with the flick of his wrist.”
She shook her head.
“He’s a dipshit, but he’s a magician on the computer. Ain’t that right, Gabe?”
“Let it go,” Durrand said. His words were little more than a growl, but perhaps Linus Shepherd wasn’t the type to heed sensible warnings even if they were snarled like a curse.
“See, we’ve known McManning since…how long would ya say, Durrand? Ten years? Fifteen?”
“It’s not too late to take you back to Tevio,” Durrand growled.
Shepherd laughed. “Ya won’t do that. ‘Cause ya always do the right thing. No matter the cost. And I bet ya agonized about costin’ Jenny here a possible promotion, didn’t ya?”
“What are you talking about?” Eddy asked.
Shepherd’s nostrils flared. “I’m talkin’ ‘bout Gabe puttin’ a call into his old friend. I’m talkin’ about him asking McManning to make sure the agency couldn’t counteroffer so you’d risk your neck comin’ down here to ease old Gabe’s guilt.”
“He’s got nothing to feel guilty about.”
“You kiddin’ me?” Shep asked and snorted again. “He survived when his buddies died. He let me run off to Colombia before I was ready.”
“That’s ridiculous,” she said. “You’re a grown man.”
Shepherd laughed but jerked a nod toward Durrand. “Ask him.”
“I’m not going to—”
“Go ahead,” Shepherd urged. “He’s practically incapable of lyin’.”
Eddy’s stomach felt suddenly queasy, but she turned toward Durrand. “I don’t even know why you bothered to save him,” she said. “If I were you I would have—”
“He’s right.” Durrand’s voice was very quiet.
She blinked. “What?”
“My usual detail was dead or wounded. Reynolds was out of the country. But he managed to recommend an agent named Edwards. I needed help. You had the skills. I blackmailed Frank McManning so he’d make sure the agency didn’t get your email for forty-eight hours.”
She tried to formulate a question, tried to verbalize a response, but instead, she simply grabbed her pack, turned, and headed for the door on wooden legs.
“Edwards!” Durrand said and charged after her, but she pulled out the Glock and pointed it at his chest.
“Follow me,” she gritted, “and I swear to God you’ll wish you were still in the hole!”
He stepped back a pace.
Eddy left to the sound of Shep’s raucous laughter.