Authors: Angi Morgan
The Cattleman (20 page)
She held her hands up in the universal sign of surrender. “Help me. Please. I’m American.”
* * *
“Y
OU
’
RE
A
US
CITIZEN
?”
Reed Campbell had taken one look at the curled-up little ball when he opened the crate and felt an unfamiliar tug at his heart. He pushed it aside as she shot to her feet. Her face was bruised. She had a busted lip. Even though her hair was overly bleached and tangled, and she could use a shower, her hazel eyes had immense depth—the kind that drew him in, which was ridiculous under the circumstances. It had to be her vulnerability that stirred the kind of emotions that had no place at work.
“Yes.” She spoke in perfect English, but American citizens didn’t normally travel home in a crate from Mexico. It looked as if standing took effort. “You can sit down if you’d like.”
She nodded and he helped her to a smaller crate where she eased down. He asked an agent to grab a bottled water out of his Jeep. A few seconds later, one of his colleagues produced one.
The cap was on too tight, and she seemed too weak to fight with it.
“I can do that for you.” He easily twisted off the lid.
She thanked him, downed three-quarters of the bottle and then poured the rest over her face.
“What’s your name?”
She stalled as though debating her answer. “Emily Baker.”
“I need to see ID, ma’am. Driver’s license. Passport.” He looked her up and down. No way did she have a wallet tucked into her two-piece swimsuit. The material fit like an extra layer of skin, highlighting full breasts and round hips. Neither of which needed to go in his report. He forced his gaze away from the soft curves on an otherwise firm body.
He cleared his throat. Damn, dry weather.
“I don’t have any with me.” The words came out sharp, but the tone sounded weary and drained. The crate she was in was huge and there were several compartments. More illegals? Human trafficking? Reed had seen it all in the past six years as a Border Patrol agent.
“Let’s see what else we find in here,” Agent Pete Sanders said.
She seemed to realize she stood in front of them wearing next to nothing when she crossed her arms over her chest and her cheeks flushed pink. She suddenly looked even more vulnerable and small. Her embarrassment tugged at his heart. More descriptions that wouldn’t go in his Homeland Security report.
She shivered, glanced down and to the right. She was about to lie. “Look. I can explain everything.”
“I’m all ears.”
Agents hauled over two crew members and told them to stay put.
She looked up at Reed again, and her hazel eyes were wide and fearful. Her hands shook. The men seemed to make her want to jump out of her skin even more. She was frightened, but not a flight risk. Cuffing her would most likely scare her even more. Besides, pulling her sunburned and blistered arms behind her back would hurt more than her pride. She also looked starved and dehydrated. One bottle of water would barely scratch the surface.
Getting her to talk under these circumstances might prove even more difficult. As it was, she looked too frightened to speak. Reed needed to thin her audience. He glanced at the K-9 officer. “I got this one under control. The other agents will see if there are more stashed in there. She’s a quick run up to immigration.”
The officer nodded before giving the command for his dog to keep searching. As soon as the two disappeared around the corner, the blonde dropped to her knees. Tears filled her eyes, a perfect combination of brown, gray and blue.
“I know how this must look. I’m not stupid. But I can explain.”
“You already said that.”
“Okay. Let’s see. Where do I start?” Even through her fear, she radiated a sense of inner strength and independence.
Hell, he could respect that. Even admired her for it. But allowing a suspected illegal alien, or whatever she was, entry into the country wasn’t his call. “At the beginning. How’d you end up in the crate?”
“I, uh, I...”
This was going nowhere. He wanted to reach out to her, help her, but she had to be willing to save herself. “We have some folks you can talk to. They can help.”
“No. Please don’t take me anywhere else. Just let me go. I’ll show up to whatever court date. I won’t disappear. I promise. I have a good job. One that I can’t afford to lose.”
Reed knew desperation. Hell, most drug runners were just as desperate. They’d offer bribes, their women, pretty much anything to manipulate the system.
His sixth sense told him this was different. There was an innocence and purity to her eyes that drew him in. Victim?
He pressed his lips into a frown. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
“Am I under arrest?”
“No.”
“Then I’m free to go?” The flash of hope in her eyes seared his heart.
“I didn’t say that.” With her perfect English, he knew she wasn’t illegal. But what else would she be doing tucked in a crate headed for the States, looking like a punching bag? Human trafficking? She was battered and bruised. If someone was trying to sell her, she’d fought back. But that explanation didn’t exactly add up. Most traffickers didn’t risk damaging the “product.”
The officers moved to another wall on the other side of the crate. Twenty people could’ve been stuffed in there. He hoped like hell they weren’t about to open up the other side and find more in the same shape as her. Seeing a woman beaten up didn’t do good things to Reed. He fisted his hands.
“What happened to you?” Even bruised and dirty, she was pretty damn hot. The tan two-piece she wore stretched taut against full breasts. Reed refocused on her heart-shaped face. Was someone trying to sell her into the sex trade? One look at her curves and long silky legs told him men would pay serious money for her. His protective instincts flared at the thought.
“I was on vacation and was robbed. They stole my passport. Said if I told authorities, they’d find me and kill me. I spent a night in the jungle trying to find my way back to the resort. I walked for an eternity, saw this ship and hopped on board praying no one would follow, find or catch me.”
The bruises on her face and body outlined the fact she wasn’t being honest. He shot her a sideways glance. “What happened to your face?”
“One of the men hit me?” Yeah, she was digging—digging a hole she might not be able to climb out of. It would take more than that to cause the bruising she had.
“I hope I don’t have to remind you it’s not in your best interest to lie to the law.”
Her gaze darted around before settling on him.
“So, the story you’re sticking with is that they jumped you on the beach?”
“No. I went into town.”
“In just your swimsuit?”
A red rash crawled up her neck. Hell, he hadn’t meant to embarrass her. She already seemed uncomfortable as hell in his presence. He had an extra shirt in his vehicle he could give her.
“Oh, right. I, uh, I already said I got lost.”
“Enough to jump inside a random cargo ship and go wherever it took you? Sounds like someone trying to get away from something.” Or someone. Yet another truth that hit him like a sucker punch.
She fixed her gaze on the cement. Was she about to lie again?
“You want to explain what really happened?” he preempted, pulling a notebook and pen from his pocket. She was beautiful. An inappropriate attraction surged through him. He shouldn’t have passed on the offer of sex from Deanna the other night. And yet, the thrill of sex for sex’s sake had never appealed to Reed.
“I’ve been through a lot in the past couple of days. Like I said, I got disoriented or something.” She blinked against the bright sun. “Where am I?”
“Galveston, Texas.”
Relief washed over her desperate expression. “Oh, thank God. That’s perfect. I’m from Plano, a Dallas suburb.”
“I’m familiar with the area. Have family there.” He looked up from his pad. “What are you really doing here?”
“I work for a company called SourceCon. You can call and check. They’ll tell you I’m on vacation. My boss has my itinerary.”
Finally, he was getting somewhere. She was still lying about getting lost in Mexico, and she was a bad liar, too. That was a good sign. Meant she didn’t normally lie her way out of situations. She didn’t have the convictions of a pathological liar. But now he had something to work with. It wouldn’t take much to make a quick call to verify her employment. He could do that for her, at least.
The sound of one of the crate’s other walls smacking the pavement split the air.
“Hey, Campbell,” Pete said.
“Yeah. Right here.”
“You’re gonna want to see this.” He rounded the corner, hoisting an AR-15 in the air. “Looks like your friend here is involved in running guns.”
Reed deadpanned her. “You just bought yourself a ride to Homeland Security.”
Copyright © 2015 by Barb Han
ISBN-13: 9781460375891
The Cattleman
Copyright © 2015 by Angela Platt
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