Chapter 34
Grabbing the paper cups filled with coffee, Jemma popped the lids and poured the steaming hot liquid into two coffee mugs. A paper bag filled with two croissants, two donuts, and a cup of fruit sat on the edge of the kitchen counter.
She glanced over her shoulder, straining to hear if Rocco was stirring in the bedroom. He’d be almost ready to leave for work soon and she wanted to send him off with a good breakfast. Placing the food on an oversized platter, she fussed with the arrangement until it looked more than presentable. Then tossed the bag into the trash can.
“What you got there?” Rocco’s low voice rumbled behind her. Before she could turn, his arms were wrapped around her waist, pulling her in close.
She closed her eyes and allowed herself to indulge in the moment. Mornings like these, they were two people exploring a deeper intimate connection. Not DEA agents on an undercover operation.
Just Rocco. Just Jemma.
“Breakfast,” she said, then bit her lip as she turned in his arms to face him. “It’s bad that I don’t know what you normally like to eat.”
“Well, you got most of it right,” Rocco said. “I like my coffee like my women … black and strong.”
“Is that so?” Jemma said, unable to hide her smile.
“And I’m a sucker for fruit at any time of the day or night,” Rocco said, grabbing a handful of grapes and strawberries. He tossed a couple in his mouth.
Damn. He was sexy when he was chewing.
“No carbs?”
Rocco shook his head. “But I’ll take them into the clinic. They’ll be gone quick with The Two Carlas around.”
“Your nurses,” Jemma said, remembering the two other employees of the clinic. “Well, I’m keeping the donuts. Nothing like a burst of sugar with my coffee to fuel me for the day.”
“Deal,” Rocco said, then kissed her softly.
“Is it weird being a doctor and a DEA agent?” Jemma asked, unable to stop the questions from flowing. Now that she’d stopped hiding her feelings for Rocco, she wanted to know every single thing about him. His likes and dislikes. His idiosyncrasies. No detail was too large or small.
Rocco’s response was quick. “It feels right. I love being a doctor. I literally grew up at my dad’s clinic, helping him with small tasks. I always knew I’d follow in his footsteps and work in medicine. What I didn’t know was how I’d help fight the impact of drugs in the community like he did.” Rocco devoured the fruit in his hand, then moved on to the cantaloupe slices. “When I realized I had access to information the DEA could use, everything fell into place. My dad focused on rehabilitation and education to steer people from drugs. I’m focusing more on the source. But we’re both passionate about the same thing.”
“That’s amazing,” Jemma said. His story was so different from hers but similar in other ways. She’d grown up in a family of police officers, sheriffs, and FBI agents. From a young age, she knew there were bad people in the world, and her family was dedicated to stopping them. Strangely, she never focused on the people whose lives benefitted from her work. She only thought about the next criminal that needed to be stopped.
“Is it weird for you to be a handler?”
“Yes,” Jemma said.
“Probably as weird as being the group supervisor of Proteus,” Rocco said, staring at her intently.
She tensed as Rocco peeled back the layers of her, exposing a truth that she didn’t think about much. “Yes.”
“I could tell. When we were at the compound, you were in your element. You thrive in undercover situations. You were amazing that night. I had no clue how you got that cell phone. One minute it was there, and the next it was gone.” Rocco finished the rest of his coffee and then glanced at her cup, filled with her signature vanilla latte with extra vanilla and whipped cream. “Got enough coffee for your cream?”
“I like my coffee like my men,” Jemma teased.
“Touche,” Rocco winked at her. “Why did you walk away from being an undercover agent?”
“It became too dangerous for me. My face was too well known from being undercover with the Ortiz Cartel, making it more likely that other cartel members could’ve recognized me,” Jemma said. “In the DEA, a black female undercover agent is rare. I’m fluent in Spanish and could pass for an Afro-Latina, but the cartels operate in a small world. I’d be remembered if I tried to go undercover again, so I had to find a different way to fight them.”
“Makes sense, although it kind of sucks.”
“Tell me about it,” Jemma said, then shrugged. “But it’s been almost two decades since I took Manny Ortiz down. Risks are low enough that none of them would have that long of a memory.”
“But you still need to be careful?” Rocco asked, concern laced in his tone.
Jemma nodded.
“I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
“I won’t let anyone hurt me, either,” Jemma said, a sobering thought coming to her mind. Not even you, Rocco. She had to guard her heart around this man. He was too easy to get used to.
Rocco glanced at his watch. “I should get going.”
“Have a great day at work,” Jemma said, slapping him on the butt as he walked out of the kitchen. “And try to get some details on the drug shipments.”
“Yes, boss,” Rocco said, then left the house.
As soon as he pulled out of the driveway, Jemma raced into the guest bedroom and grabbed her laptop. The only downside of her new situation with Rocco was that she didn’t have as much time to follow up on her investigation of Nomar. When they weren’t talking about the El Sombro operation, they were engaged in other carnal activities. Not that she minded, but she couldn’t lose sight of her dual motives for being here.
She’d almost had a heart attack when she and Rocco had spied Vance and Eddie at the clearing within the jungle with another man. She was lucky that Rocco didn’t recognize who it was—Nomar Ortiz. Rocco had been face to face with the man when he’d rescued her from Nomar at the club in La Placita.
Now that she knew Eddie was Nomar’s son, it was time to use Eduardito to help her find his father. Flipping the laptop open, she accessed the portal that monitored the tracking app she’d installed on Eddie’s phone. The last known location was a restaurant near Dajabon last night. So, Eddie returned to this side of the island after meeting with his father and Vance. But he hadn’t turned his phone on today.
Frustration clawed at her as she shut the laptop. Pacing the room, Jemma weighed her options and found none. Nomar was off the grid. Eddie was her only chance to find him. But what had happened to Eddie after the Ortiz Cartel bust? She didn’t know and hadn’t thought about Nomar’s son in years. Maybe researching that could give her a clue as to where he and his father could be now.
She was deep into her research for a few hours when an alarm went off on her laptop. She checked the portal app.
“Jackpot,” Jemma muttered under her breath. Eddie’s phone was on, and he was at a restaurant near a park frequented by locals.
Twenty minutes later, Jemma was at the park with a picnic basket, blanket, and a book, donning sunglasses. She pretended to enjoy the afternoon tropical weather as she looked for any sign of Eddie at the restaurant. The portal indicated he hadn’t moved from the location, so he must be coming out soon.
And when he did, she’d follow him.
Jemma grabbed a sandwich and put in her earbuds to listen to the latest album from Caribbean hip-hop princess Coco. She’d gotten through the entire album twice and devoured her entire basket of food before Eddie emerged from the restaurant. A tall Latina beauty who looked like she’d walked straight off the runways of Paris was on his arm. She lowered her sunglasses to get a better view.
The woman hugged Eddie, gave him a kiss that borderlined on pornographic, then walked away toward the parking lot. When the woman was out of sight, Eddie winced, touching his bandaged nose. Dante had given him a beatdown. From the looks of his bruised face and arm holding his side, he was far from recovery.
Jemma reached for her basket and hurriedly threw her items inside. Eddie would be on the move soon, and she didn’t want him to get too far ahead?—
“Jemma? Is that you?”
Her gaze flicked upward right at Eddie Baez.
She took off her sunglasses and gave him a small smile. The hunted one had come directly to her. What the fuck could that mean? He might have recognized her. But thirty-eight-year-old Jemma looked different than the twenty-three-year-old version who was Eddie’s nanny. Still, she had to be careful.
“Eddie, right?” Jemma sat up straighter. “How are you feeling? It’s horrible what happened to you.”
Eddie shrugged. “I take a licking and keep on ticking. Trust me, Dante will regret his actions soon enough. What are you doing in the park all alone?”
“Rocco’s at work, so I thought I’d come out here and enjoy the day,” Jemma said.
Unease built inside her as Eddie stared at her for a long moment, almost as if he was memorizing her face … or remembering it.
“The two of you met when Rocco lived in San Juan, right?”
Jemma nodded. “At a bar. Can you believe that? He offered me a drink at Barrachina when I was on vacation a few years ago. We didn’t keep up with each other after that. Then I’m here on vacation and run into him at the farmer’s market. I don’t believe in coincidences, so I took it as a sign that maybe we were meant to cross paths again.”
“Lucky guy,” Eddie said. “I’m sure he’ll be sad when you have to go back home to …”
He was fishing for information.
Jemma said, “Virginia. But I may stick around for a while. It’s easy for me to work remotely with my job.”
Eddie nodded. “I hope you do. Well, I’ll let you get back to your picnic. Enjoy the rest of your day.”
“Thanks, you too,” Jemma said, then pushed the sunglasses back on her face.
Eddie walked away across the park, stopping to look back in her direction a few times too many. He likely sensed that he knew her from somewhere but couldn’t put his finger on it. The more time she spent around Eddie, the more likely he remembered who she was.
And if he did, Eddie would tell his father.
Nomar knowing where she was in Dajabon before she could find him would be a disaster.
Jemma couldn’t let that happen. She’d lost this chance to follow Eddie, but he wouldn’t know she was there the next time.