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“If you let me make a call to the FBI, I can have the problem of those Americans taken care of.” At least, she was pretty sure she could.
“She was making a call when I came in here.” And with that, Ramon threw her under the bus, selling her out even though she could have written a report when they were both at Quantico explaining what she’d seen of his instability.
But she hadn’t, because both Kenna and Clarissa had preferred to avoid the limelight of being singled out—especially when it only looked like they were attempting to sabotage his success in FBI training. It would’ve looked far too petty to complain about him.
Navarro only chuckled. “We shall see about that.”
“Still, we don’t want to be living under a microscope,” Ramon said. “So if the FBI does show up, we’ll know who brought them here.”
She wondered if he believed he was still working undercover—maybe this was some kind of years long mission for him. Could it be such a level of need to know that the reports and news articles indicated he’d turned to the dark side?
It wasn’t completely out of the question that a man sent in undercover had been discovered, then flipped the entire script and turned to work for his enemy and double-cross his government in order to continue the mission.
So which was it?
Navarro frowned. “Get her out of here. She has a response to deliver.”
“Door.” Ramon shoved her, and she figured at the last minute that he meant for her to be the one to open the door.
Kenna pushed down the handle with her fist, far enough it unlatched and swung open.
A scream echoed down the hallway. The sound of a man in intense pain. Similar to what she’d been listening to for days—except this one sounded so much worse. All of Jax’s torture distilled into one moment.
Ramon chuckled. “Message received.”
She glanced over her shoulder at wild dark curls around his face in a halo. His beard had been overwhelmed by silver strands in places. “What happened to you?”
He shoved her into the hallway.
Navarro followed them outside, where the pickup truck had been moved from the gate up to the driveway in front of the house.
The engine was running.
“You’re really just kicking me out?” Kenna turned to look at Navarro. “I can help you find the woman you lost. I can bring her back to you.”
Ramon tensed.
Navarro closed the gap between them, making Kenna back up. Her hips slammed against the side of the pickup truck, and he moved way close to her. Enough she could feel his hot breath on her face. She heard the unmistakable sound of a knife being pulled from its sheath and then the prick of the blade tip against her neck.
Kenna’s stomach clenched. “I find people who are lost. It’s what Ihaveto do, not just a job.”
His dark eyes scanned her face. Then he took a step back and motioned someone forward. A man strode toward them carrying a potato sack leaking red liquid that dripped onto the ground. Ramon took the bag and placed it on the front seat.
Navarro said, “As I said earlier, you are going to deliver a message from me.”
And that was exactly what she’d come here to do for Kart. “I usually charge money to be a go-between.”
No one laughed.
“He’ll want me to come back to him with information I discovered from inside your house.” While Kart and his friends had been blowing up outbuildings and generally causing mayhem — but for what?
Navarro said, “Tell Ian Kartom that I don’t keep my valuables under my pillow. If he wants the mine, he can stop stealing from me and offer a deal.”
Ramon shoved her in the driver’s seat and slammed the door so hard the pickup rattled.
Time to go.
Kenna turned the truck down the drive and headed for the gate. Her hands shook, but she gripped the wheel as much as she could.
