She glanced down to where the bullet had grazed her arm. “I think I do.”
“Look, Jess, it’s admirable that you want to see Angela’s killers brought to justice. It’s courageous of you to want to be part of it. I can respect that. But you have to be smart about this. The bottom line is you’re not trained to deal with any of this.”
“Don’t even consider trying to talk me out of seeing this through.”
“I don’t want to see you hurt.”
“I’ve already been hurt.” She crossed to him, came within a fraction of an inch of touching him, but pulled back at the last minute. “Lots of people have been hurt. Angela. Nicolas.” She motioned toward the table where the photos were spread out like some cheap magazine spread. “The young women in those photos. How can you expect me to walk away?”
“Because you’re smart. Because you know I’ll handle it.”
“You’re forgetting one thing, Madrid.”
He lifted a brow.
“I made a promise to Angela.”
“She wouldn’t have wanted you to risk your own life to keep it. Damn it, she asked you to look after her son, not get yourself killed.”
“Madrid, these people are not going to stop until he’s dead if Nicolas witnessed Angela’s murder.”
Her own words made her cringe. To think of the innocent little boy being hurt—or worse—made her feel sick inside. But Jess knew this was not the time to mince words. Whatever was going on at the Lighthouse Point PD had to be exposed and stopped.
“I’m going to see this through,” she said. “It’s up to you whether I finish it with you or without you.”
Chapter Ten
Madrid hated waiting, though in the course of his career he’d been forced to do plenty of it. Nor did he like staying in one place too long, especially when some very powerful people would pay a lot of money to see both him and Jess dead. And then there was the matter of his burgeoning feelings for Jess.
The woman was a study in contradictions. Beautiful and headstrong and vulnerable rolled into one very intriguing package. Madrid knew better than to think of her in any terms other than a witness to a crime he needed to solve.
But he did.
He was attracted to her in a way he’d never been attracted to another woman in his life. The chemistry between them was quite simply something he’d never before experienced—and he’d had plenty of experience when it came to matters of the flesh.
Pacing the kitchen, he glanced at his watch for the dozenth time, wondering when Vanderpol was going to call. If he was going to call, a little voice chimed in.
Cutter called a meeting yesterday, told us not to help you…
Jake’s words rang uncomfortably in his ears. Madrid had figured Cutter wouldn’t be happy about his using the MIDNIGHT Agency’s resources. But the way Madrid saw it, if he wanted to get to the bottom of Angela’s murder, he didn’t have a choice.
“You’re going to wear a hole in the floor if you keep up that pacing.”
Madrid glanced up to see Jess in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, watching him. Attraction tugged hard and low in his gut. It annoyed him. Made him want to do things he knew would only cause them problems later. He figured he had enough problems at the moment without piling on any more.
“It’s been a few hours,” he growled. “Why the hell hasn’t he called?”
She crossed to him, gave him an earnest look that made him think about kissing her. “Maybe he’s waiting for a call back, too. Maybe he’s still gathering information. Maybe he ran into problems and can’t get the information you need.”
“Yeah, well, I’m sick of all these damn maybes.” Frustrated, he turned away and walked over to the counter.
Dread mixed with anticipation roiled inside him when he heard Jess follow. “If your arm is hurting, there are a few more ibuprofen in the first aid kit.”
Madrid gave a curt nod, but he didn’t look at her. The pain in his arm was only a small part of what was eating at him. The truth of the matter was he didn’t like being cooped up with a woman who turned him into a walking hard-on. A woman he could never have because every person he’d ever cared for had met an untimely death. He didn’t want that to happen to Jess.
So why is she here with you now, hotshot?
Because I’m too damn weak to send her away.
“Here.”
He actually started at the sound of her voice. He swung around to see her holding two tablets and a bottle of water. “This will help.”
Judging by the jump of his pulse, he didn’t think so. “Thanks.”
He downed the tablets and was halfway through the water when his cell phone trilled. His gaze went to Jess. She looked back at him, her eyes wide. She crossed her fingers and held them up for him to see.
Madrid unsnapped the cell, saw Vanderpol’s name flicker in the window. “What do you have for me?”
“The only container ship I could find with a name even close to the partial you gave me is the Xanadu Rose.”
“Where?”
“Port of Eureka. Humboldt Bay. California.”