Liaising Kai

Chapter 5

Kai watched Davis’s handsome,battered face as he slept, while tears ran down her cheeks. The plane was full but dim as they winged toward José Joaquín de Olmedo International Airport in the port city of Guayaquil, pronounced Way-uh-keel, in one of the most environmentally diverse countries in the world. A hot and humid place most of the year, a sharp change from the beautiful Southern California weather. She’d packed light.

She was still processing everything that had happened today, including the fact that she had almost died. She was thankful that she had carte blanche when it came to resources. US Attorney Leight Waterford had called and given their investigation the green light.

She was thankful for this time alone. Things with the case were confusing and painful, and anything involving Davis Nishida was always intense. She had been closed down since they had returned from the courthouse and the tragic and terrible events that had happened. She couldn’t turn to him or talk to him about any of it while she was in boss mode. If she had, she would have broken down right then and there. But would it be so hard, so wrong to lean on him? Or would she lose whatever shred of herself she still hung onto?

And, again, would that be so bad?

She couldn’t fault him for sleeping. He, too, had experienced a devastating loss today, one a longtime friend. It had hit him hard. That much she could see. But they didn’t have the luxury of giving into their emotions, not then. But now, she could allow herself this one small breakdown. She could mourn fully when this case was solved.

She ached to touch him, imagining how his skin would feel, so warm and smooth, except for the five o’clock shadow that coated that incredible jaw. He just kept impressing her every step of the way. She loved how he challenged her, made her think about what she was doing, supported her, and the way he had saved her, knocking her down to the floor while bullets whizzed all around them, and leaning out that window with nothing but his crooked leg anchoring them, nothing but his strength, determination, and courage to see it all through.

Even this staring at him was soothing. She wiped at her cheeks, the flight attendant hovering. The little gold pin on the attendant’s uniform spelled out Angela. She had concern written all over her face. Kai dredged up a smile and accepted the tissue the kind woman handed her. It hit her how lucky she was to have so many people around her who cared about her so deeply. Tears welled again thinking about Nate and all that she had been through with him. He had always been there for her. Always, and to lose him like this, especially when they had been at odds with each other was more than painful, it was devastating, and she knew all about devastating grief.

“Are you all right?” Angela whispered.

Kai smiled again and shook her head. “No, but I will be. Thank you,” she whispered back. Angela glanced down at Davis, then gave Kai a way-to-go, girl look. It was a common occurrence to see women drooling over Davis, and rightly so. The man was so well put together.

“Can I get you anything?”

“Water would be wonderful.”

“Coming up.” She reached into one of the overhead compartments and came back with a soft, blue blanket. She handed it to Kai. “For him.”

The woman left and Kai spread the blanket over him, something therapeutic in tending to him after he so bravely saved her life twice today. He had some very sharply honed instincts for danger…and a face that was not only beautiful but so interesting to look at. His dark hair was mussed, his forehead smooth above those angular, sunshot gray eyes, his lashes so thick they looked unreal. She understood Angela’s reaction to Davis with his finely chiseled features, high cheekbones, and firm mouth.

But there was so much more to Davis than the way he was put together, and she trembled with the impact of the man. He had an economy of movement that matched that charming and commanding way about him, the difference between the two so slight as to be almost nonexistent and noticeable only by the subtlest of shifts in his gaze, from direct to forceful, to merely unavoidably intense.

He was truly impossible to ignore, and right now, Davis Nishida was her touchstone because being near him staved off doubt and fear. Seeing him like this was unexpected, since Davis was a force of nature when he was awake. Now, deep in slumber, he looked so relaxed, his face smooth of all expression. With those cuts and bruises on his face, she was reminded again that, like her, he’d been through a lethal spray of bullets and an explosion.

Her thoughts were interrupted as Angela came back with the bottle of water. She took it from her and after another glance at Davis, the flight attendant moved on.

She sighed, opening the bottle and taking a couple of gulps. The cold, crisp liquid felt good on her tongue, sliding down her throat. She capped the bottle and, with tenderness working through her, she tucked the light blanket a little higher on his chest. She felt breakable as she had for so many years, but this type of fragility had to do with him. He compromised her, and she smiled thinking how that was such a good thing.Being rock-hard, restraining her movement, kept her anchored in a bedrock of pain, guilt, and grief.

How did Davis become the sculptor who was chipping away at her, molding her into something different just by being himself? How did she get so lucky? And would he be successful or were her barriers just too…unbreakable?

She twisted in her seat so she could keep his face in her line of vision. The plane jumped with a little turbulence, and when her attention went back to him, those eyes were now a charcoal gray, shadowed and aware.

He searched her face, then he pushed at the blanket and took her face into his hands. “You want to talk about it?” he whispered.

He was so close, and he smelled and felt so warm, and there she was, fragile again and very shaky inside. She closed her eyes, clenching her jaw against her own emotions.

“Don’t do that. Don’t internalize it, babe. What we feel is important, and it’s what we feel that makes us human. You don’t have to always be so strong.”

It had been a long time—a very long time—since she’d allowed herself some slack. Davis’s compassion nearly put her in sensory overload, his touch sending a trail of shivers down her back. Tension blossomed in her, and she pressed her thighs more tightly together, her palm slipping over the back of his hand.

He retracted the armrest between them. “Slide over,” he commanded roughly. Slipping his arm around her, he cuddled her to his chest. She grabbed a handful of his shirt, his face only inches from hers. He stared at her a moment, the muscles in his jaw hardening.

“Thank you for saving my life. I would have told you sooner, but I couldn’t manage my emotions if I let them go. It wouldn’t have been professional.”

“Fuck professional. We lost people today. Good, honest, hardworking people.”

Something gave way around her heart, and she shivered. Feeling almost too raw to speak, she reached out and gave in to her craving. She cupped his jaw, feeling the stubble along his jaw, scratchy and compelling. “You are so?—”

“Annoying?”

“Yes, that, too. But mostly you always seem to know what to say.”

“Oh, I’m charming?” he grinned.

“That,” she said with a slight smile that disappeared as she met those now glittering eyes, “and for protecting me, saving me. I would have died today without you, and I’m so grateful to you.” His jaw hardened beneath her touch, and without any warning, her eyes filled up. A feeling of desolation washed through her, and she dropped her hand.

He shifted, then cupped her jaw, lifting her face. “You can count on me, always, Kai.”

She looked up at him, her eyes awash with tears, and Davis brushed his knuckles across her cheek. His expression etched with strain, he swallowed hard, his eyes full of tenderness. With a long, shaky sigh, he pulled her across his legs, gathering her against him in a tight embrace.

“I’m sorry about Carter,” she whispered. “I know how you feel. We just don’t know what was going on, and how they’re involved in all this. It makes it so difficult to know what to feel.”

“A little betrayed, a whole lot of anger…impotent anger…at them since we have no outlet to understand, and a shitload of grief. I’m so sorry about Nate, too, but there’s one thing we can do, Kai. We can find out who murdered them and bring those people to justice. Maybe that will give us some comfort, some closure.”

Kai sagged against him, unable to hold in all the raw and turbulent feelings that surged through her. He made it almost tolerable with the feel of his arms around her as she huddled there, nursing her wounds, pressing her wet face into his neck. He was a gift she wasn’t sure she deserved.

Slipping part of the blanket over her and drawing her deeper into his warmth, he cradled her head even closer, his breath warm against the side of her face. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. With his words, he’d alleviated some of the devastation, and they drew warmth and comfort from each other.

But their private, comforting cocoon was invaded moments later when the pilot came over the speaker alerting them to their arrival in Guayaquil. They prepared to deplane, knowing that they were heading into a country rife with danger and corruption. But it wasn’t going to stop them from finding and talking to Eduardo Mosquera.

They were greeted at the airport by a man dressed in green camouflage, a ball cap, and a black vest with Policia in white across the right-hand side.

Kai approached him and said, “NCIS Supervisory Special Agent Talbot and CGIS Special Agent Davis Nishida.”

The man shook their hands. “Pleased to meet you, Agents. I’m Colonel Cesar Aguilar and this is Sergeant Dario Loor.” The young man, dressed similarly, nodded. “Would you like refreshment before we talk about the man you’re here to interview?”

“No, we’re good. We can rest after we get squared away. Thank you for cooperating with our government.”

“My pleasure, Special Agent Talbot.”

“Please, call me Kai.”

He nodded. “This way,” he said, gesturing to the exit. They gathered their carry-on bags and headed to the doors where a police SUV was parked at the curb, and they slipped into the back seat, the sergeant driving and Colonel Aguilar beside him.

As they merged into the early evening traffic, toward the vibrant, sprawling city of Guayaquil, known as the gateway to Pacific beaches and the Galapagos Islands. During the drive along the Rio Daule, they passed a lively downtown area with glimpses of a long dock and a pristine white Ferris wheel, telling her there was an amusement park on the water. That would be cool to visit. But she had to remind herself they weren’t here for sightseeing, especially when Davis was a constant sensual reminder. Being in close proximity on the plane and now in the car, his delicious scent distracted her, along with his earthy, sexual magnetism, which was dangerous on so many levels. They passed an area with colorfully painted houses stacked on a hillside, and more shops and people before pulling into the local precinct where the colonel led them to a conference room.

“Mr. Eduardo Mosquera is a fisherman with a small crew and a mid-sized boat who has a license to fish in the open sea at least forty nautical miles from the coast for mahi-mahi, dorado, swordfish, yellowfin and bigeye tuna, covina, and billfish. We’ve been to his mooring at the Marina Río Guayas, but his boat—” He consulted his notes on a pad of paper. “—the El Regulo de Mayta is not there.”

A lump formed in Kai’s throat. He’d named his craft Mayta’s Gift. She felt sorry for him having to find out from a stranger that his daughter was dead. Her stomach dropped, remembering the exact moment when she’d found out. She grit her teeth against her pain and his incoming grief. “We can plan to go to his residence in the morning, but with his boat gone, we may not find him at home.”

“Does he have family in the area, and is it possible to see if any of his crew are available?”

“Yes, we can go to the marina tomorrow when it opens and ask around about his crew. Someone there should know him, the boat hands are a tight-knit bunch. He has an aunt here in Guayaquil—” He looked at his pad again. “Solange Cordero.” He leaned back in his seat, his eyes and expression speculative. “Why is a military-based federal law enforcement agency looking for this man?”

“His daughter, Mayta Mosquera, immigrated with her mother, Eduardo’s ex-wife Lena, to the United States when she was young.” She could see he realized that Eduardo’s boat was named after his daughter. His expression turned sad. “She enlisted in the United States Navy, and she was murdered this morning in her home in San Diego, California. Our agency, Naval Criminal Investigative Service, is responsible for all Navy and Marine personnel. We’re here because she had some concerns about her father, and we’re following up on a lead I can’t discuss.”

His eyes flashed, and he swore softly. “I’m very sad to hear this. We have our share of murders in the city.” He pulled up something on a laptop. “We just need to go over the paperwork for you to carry weapons in Ecuador?—”

“Is there a problem?”

“No, no. We have your request from your government, and all is well. We just need to see what firearms you’re carrying.” Each of them presented their Glocks, and the numbers were registered on the paperwork. “Let us be done for today, and Dario will take you to your hotel. He’ll be there at ten a.m., and we’ll hopefully find Mr. Mosquera tomorrow for your questions.”

Kai nodded wearily.

A short ten minutes later, Dario dropped them in front of their hotel. Once inside they got their room keys from the front desk.

As they climbed to their floor in the elevator, she wondered if she could finally entice Davis into her bed. The thought of the monumental distraction that would cause made her shiver. They were only going to be here for a couple of days, and muddling up their time with intimacy could be problematic, especially when they needed to keep their focus and attention on the case, and on their own personal security in a city rife with crime.

“This is me,” she said, her voice going soft as she stopped in front of her door.

He turned, looking as if he was going to say something, but then nodded and said, “Good night.”

Feeling shaky and a little disappointed but realizing that this was the best course of action, she opened her door and slipped inside. He must’ve agreed with her summary of the situation. As she slipped into bed and turned off the light, she couldn’t help remembering how he had drawn her into his embrace on the plane, where everything was on the surface—the comfort, the warmth, the loneliness, and the pain.

But she had wanted that comfort, that warmth…for years. She wanted everything with him. God, it was frightening how much she wanted that, and it was even more frightening knowing that if she wanted it, she might have to reach out for it. She didn’t know what she would do if he didn’t reach back…again.

In the morning,when she opened her door, he was poised to knock. He smiled, and she felt such a strong tug. A tug that wasn’t entirely physical. It was bad enough that he could make her body tremble in need with nothing more than a glance and a smile. But her heart was in the most danger from him. “Good morning, Kai,” he said. “Perfect timing. I’m starved.” He did a quick head-to-toe rundown that left her feeling more flushed and breathless.

Her cheeks heated, and she shouldn’t be encouraging him by blushing. But his gaze was so direct, she found herself reacting in ways that were dangerous. She wondered what it would be like to interact with him on a daily basis without having to examine and analyze every word, action, or reaction for potential problems.

Probably wonderful, heavenly.

“I bet you are,” she said, ducking under his arm and closing the door. She headed for the elevator.

“What is that supposed to mean?” he asked, allowing her to enter the elevator ahead of him like a gentleman. The doors closed and she felt caged, even though he wasn’t even touching her. The air always felt like it was alive when she was next to him.

“You know what it means, Davis. We’re both adults.” His laugh was rich, and deep, and so incredibly sexy that she braced her hand on the rail next to her. She gave him a sidelong glance. “We’re both on edge sexually. We both want each other and it’s frustrating and complicated.”

His gaze darkened. “I’d be a fool to counter that bold statement, especially when it’s completely accurate, but damn those complications.”

Her heart rate did a little jump. There it was again. That offhand sincerity that did odd things to her equilibrium. Damn him for agreeing with her. He was an honorable man with a highly regarded level of personal integrity. Damn him again for that.

“Yeah,” she agreed, hating the breathy catch in her voice, but incapable of stifling it. They ate breakfast and talked about inane things, steering clear of heavily emotional topics. When Dario and the sheriff pulled up, they were ready to go.

They drove to the promenade. “This is the Las Pe?as neighborhood,” Dario said as he parked the cruiser. “Mrs. Cordeo lives up there.” He pointed toward the colorful houses painted in hot pink, lavender, deep purple, aqua blue, sky blue, coral, and peach tones.

“Santa Ana Hill,” the colonel provided, but Kai had heard about the tourist area. It was located northeast of the city at the foot of the Guayas River, sporting shops, museums, restaurants, and bars. There were four hundred and forty-four steps exactly to reach the top, and they were numbered.

“There is no other access than to walk. Her residence is twenty stairs up,” the colonel said.

They headed off, the view from the northern end of the promenade stretching out to the open ocean with a green ribbon in the background. They crossed over the trolley tracks into the Las Pe?as neighborhood, the beginning of the colorful houses, lined with cobblestone streets. When they reached the concrete numbered stairs, dotted with blooming bushes of deep pink blossoms, they climbed, passing fountains and plazas with people enjoying their breakfasts.

At the twentieth stair, they turned left toward a traditional Spanish gate with wrought iron, wading through several cats. They came to her townhouse five minutes later, the exterior painted in a delicious mango color with orange trim. Mrs. Cordero’s home looked twentieth century, built in wood with European influences—French-type balconies and windows that opened more like a door instead of a sash. There were very few people around. The walk was short, which made it easy to see that the front door was ajar. Her first thought was that they were, once again, too late. Her hopes and her heart sank. This was getting old fast.

Kai stiffened, pulling her weapon. “Davis…the door.” He and the two police officers followed suit. She cautiously pushed the door open. “Mrs. Cordero,” she called, an eerie kind of quiet met the hollow sound of her voice, fading away unanswered.

Kai suddenly held her breath, anticipation making the tension mount. In the hall was a small dog, a Scottie, Kai thought. He was lying on his side dead in a pool of his white fur. She gritted her teeth, hit by a metallic smell she knew all too well. They cleared the first floor, including a bedroom and living room.

Davis pulled ahead of her as their voices rang out, “Clear.” All except Davis.

She found him in the kitchen, his broad shoulders rose and fell as he holstered his Glock and heaved a sigh.

She tried to take in the scene with the eyes of a seasoned veteran—objective, observant. But she couldn’t fend off the initial shock of seeing the woman they hoped to question lying dead and knowing that the people who had killed Mayta, kidnapped and then subsequently murdered not only Carter Lennon, but the whole OCDETF Task Force, had killed an old woman, whose only crime was to be related to Mayta and Eduardo Mosquera.

They were up against some ruthless, vicious animals, and Kai felt uncomfortable and uneasy in a city she didn’t know with people she couldn’t really trust. She fortified herself with the knowledge that she could trust Davis, and even though they would need to be careful going forward, she wasn’t about to back down from finding these monsters. Nate’s death hung heavy on her, and there was no way she could forsake his death and back down now.

Davis said, “Her fingers are burned pretty badly. Looks like torture with another twenty-two to the back of the head.”

She bit the side of her cheek. The woman had suffered, tough old thing. She had fought against her captors, but it hadn’t done her any good, taking in the dazed expression in her dark eyes, her mouth open in shock, as if she had started to cry out, only to find it too late.

Violent deaths in Guayaquil weren’t uncommon, but not of little old ladies being executed in their kitchens.

“Los Esmeraldas,” Dario said.

“You don’t know that.” Cesar’s jaw hardened and his eyes narrowed as he stared at Dario.

“It’s their signature hit,” Dario said, his chin lifting. She liked the way he stood his ground.

“Nothing conclusive until we have proof. You should know that,” Cesar said, his temper threatening to boil over. She studied him, his anger seeming out of place.

“Cesar, there’s no need to jump down his throat. He’s stating his opinion.”

“Look here, Kai, I don’t condone opinions. Facts and evidence are what moves me.” He leaned over her, trying to intimidate her with his height and his scowl. “You”re a guest here. Don’t forget that.”

She squared off against him, not about to back down, but aware that she had to maintain a working relationship with a foreign police department. They were here to discover who was involved in murdering their citizens. “I’m aware of our status here, Cesar, but we have a job to do. We intend to do it.”

Surprisingly, Cesar was the one who backed down. “I apologize for my outburst. I’m a stickler for protocol.” He looked at Dario and said, “Call it in.”

Dario nodded and retreated. She gave Davis a look, then nudged her head toward the younger man as he got on the radio. Davis gave her a subtle nod.

“Look at this boot print,” Davis said, distracting the colonel. When he walked over to take a better look, Kai headed down the hall. As soon as Dario was off the radio, she said, “Tell me about the Los Esmeraldas.”

Dario shot a quick glance down the hall, but when he saw that the colonel was occupied with Davis, he said, his voice low. “They are the predominant gang around here. Merciless killers with one purpose—protect their drug smuggling operation.”

“Who do they work for?”

“It used to be Nacho…Ignacio Siachoque, the head of the Siachoque Cartel, but your government took him down in Costa Rica where he was hiding and dismantled his organization in Colombia. His demise, and that of the Siachoque Cartel, left a vacuum in their wake, and you know what can transpire when that happens.”

“Another cartel takes over.”

He nodded. “A word of caution, Kai. If the Los Esmeraldas are involved in these murders, walk carefully in this city and outside it. They are the largest and most feared gang, the savage watchdogs of their cartel. They will not rest until everyone who stands in their way, including you and your partner, are dead.”