In Bed with the Enemy Read Free Page B

“I’ve told you before. I quit. I’m not associated with the family anymore, and I don’t know what they’re up to.”
    â€œThat’s what you keep telling me.”
    â€œIf you’re smart, you’ll start to believe me and turn your investigation where it will do some good.”
    Cole wasn’t surprised when Mercado became defensive about his involvement with his infamous family. They’d played out this scenario before.
    â€œIf you hear anything—”
    â€œYeah. I know. You’d appreciate me letting you know.” With that, Mercado turned, walked back into the old house he was renovating, and slammed the door.
    Cole checked his watch, got back into the SUV and headed into Mission Creek. He had roughly thirty minutes to get across town to the Lone Star Country Club for his meeting with Phillip Westin.
    Westin had been Ricky Mercado’s commanding officer and knew as much about him as the other marines who’d served with Mercado in the 14th Unit. Several of them lived in and around Mission Creek, and some of them even grew up with him. Yet, most of them had their doubts that Mercado had severed all ties with his family. Some had even gone so far as to say they believed Mercado’s insistence that he’d gone legit was a cover-up for some kind of illegal activity. Only his brother-in-law, Luke Callaghan, and Phillip Westin had professed to believe that Mercado was on the up-and-up—that he was trying to get his life together and go straight.
    But there were several things about Ricky Mercado and his story that bothered Cole. A lot.
    Mercado had been on the rescue team sent to get Westin out of the tiny Central American country of Mezcaya. A hotbed of corruption, and in serious danger of being taken over by the terrorist group El Jefé, Mezcaya had suffered years of fighting and unrest. But after Mercado’s mission to help save Westin, there had been a dramatic increase in the amount of automatic weapons and high-tech ordnance used by El Jefé. That alone was enough to raise a red flag the size of Rhode Island with the ATF’s intelligence source.
    But when a stash of M16s, along with grenades and handheld rocket launchers were discovered in one of the maintenance sheds on the grounds of the Lone Star Country Club, it had become a foregone conclusion that the Mercados were somehow involved. Several higher-ups in the family, including Ricky, had bought memberships in the exclusive club, giving them unlimited access to the grounds.
    Coincidence? Not likely.
    Cole turned the SUV onto the blacktop driveway leading up to the clubhouse, bypassed the valet parking at the entrance and pulled into the self-parking area at the side of the main building. With the stifling heat bouncing off the asphalt, he would have just as soon paid one of the valets to park the damn thing, but he could just imagine the shade of red his boss’s face would turn if he handed the man a receipt for the ATF to pay for it.
    Chuckling at the mental image, he steered the Explorer between a black Mercedes and a red Porsche, killed the engine, then opened the driver’s-side door and came damn close to smacking Campbell right square in the face with it. Where the hell had she come from? She hadn’t been standing there when he pulled into the parking space only moments ago.
    When he slammed the door and locked it with the keyless remote, he turned to face her. Her trim black skirt, matching jacket and white blouse made her look ultraconservative, extremely professional and thoroughly unapproachable. Whether he was happy about it or not, he had to admit he liked the way she looked in shorts and a tank top a whole lot better.
    She frowned. “I should have known it was you.”
    â€œGood afternoon to you too, Campbell,” he said cheerfully.
    She started to step around him, but with the cars parked so closely together, there wasn’t enough room. “Will you