Operation Tropical Affair: A Poppy McVie Adventure (Poppy McVie Series Book 1) (19 page)

Carlos came around the side of the van. “¿Qué demonios crees que estás haciendo?”
What the hell do you think you’re doing?

Noah flipped over the first crate and a writhing pile of snakes slid onto the pavement. The crowd reacted with squeals and gasps. Carlos jerked his head toward the witnesses, panic on his face. He had an audience. He had to be careful.

Dan and Sierra materialized from the crowd, one on each side of the van, spray cans in hand, and went to work painting “LIVE FREE!” down the side panels.

“¡Esa es mi propiedad!” Carlos shouted.
That’s my property!

I glanced around the crowd. People stared, motionless. “¡Llame a la policía!” I said to a man standing next to me.
Call the police!
I moved through the crowd. “¡Llame a la policía!” I kept moving.
Get on your phones, people!

Jack and Doug faced down Carlos while Noah pried the lid off the second crate. Carlos glared at them, then his expression changed as recognition set in. He looked to Jack, then back to Doug, wracked with confusion. I could imagine what was running through his mind. He didn’t know what the hell was going on. But he was smart enough to know it was more than a group of harmless activists. His eyes grew large and flitted around.

Noah flipped over the second crate and another clump of slithering snakes wriggled to get free of each other. He immediately went to work on the third crate.
 

“Keep your hands off that crate,” Carlos said in English. “Back off.”

Be careful!
Noah cracked the lid, flipped it open, and jumped back. That was the one.
 

Sirens wailed a block away. Noah glared at Carlos and I could tell something wasn’t right.
Noah, wait for the police!
 

Noah took a step back from the crate. “Screw you!” he said to Carlos. He slammed his foot into the top edge of the crate. It rocked, tipping on its edge. Carlos rushed forward to push it back. He grabbed hold of the open edge with two hands and a snake reared up and struck him on the wrist. He screamed out in pain and dropped to the ground, wailing. The crowd gasped. Carlos rolled around on the pavement, holding his wrist in his hand, blathering in Spanish.

Noah kicked the crate again and knocked it over. The fer-de-lance tumbled from the top and landed in an s-coil next to Carlos. Shrieks and cries of fear rippled through the crowd. The snake uncoiled and shot across the road, the crowd parting for it. It disappeared in the grass.
 

Left on the road next to Carlos was a tangle of boa constrictors, fat and sluggish. But no drugs.

Noah, Jack and Doug smashed the crate to bits looking for a hidden compartment. Something. But there was nothing else. They ripped apart the other two crates. Nothing.

The police cars came around the corner. Jack and Doug took off at a dead run. Dan and Sierra had already disappeared among the tourists. Noah picked up a boa, then another, scanning the pavement beneath them, shaking his head. There was nothing there.

Dammit!
We’d been so sure. The poisonous snake was there. Carlos had been driving, not Paco. What had we missed? I held my head, a sinking sensation threatening to take me down. All this for nothing.
Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!

I watched helplessly as an officer put Noah in handcuffs and another questioned Amanda and Colette.
 

This didn’t make sense. Why was there a fer-de-lance in the crate if there were no drugs? One poisonous snake. One lousy snake wouldn’t bring much on the black market. It was hardly worth the trip. We needed for him to get arrested. But now, especially since he’d been ambushed by activists, he probably wouldn’t even get a slap on the wrist for possession.

I smirked. At least the snake had given him more than a slap. But it wouldn’t help me catch Maria.

I stared at the boas lying on the ground. Why would he put a poisonous snake in with them? Legal species. The fat, lethargic things barely moved, as if they’d just been fed—
holy crap, that’s it!
No wonder Carlos was so confident.

I looked around. Would they confiscate the snakes as evidence? Examine them? What if they didn’t?
 

I stepped from the crowd. “Excuse me, sir,” I said to the officer who had cuffed Noah. “I’m sorry to interrupt.”

“Quédese atrás,” he said, holding his hand out in the universal sign to stop.

“No, no, the snake, look at the snake,” I said, pointing.

“I need you to stay back,” he said in English, stepping toward me.

I held up my hands. “I understand,” I said. “I’m a veterinarian. From the U.S. I just happened to notice, there’s something very wrong with these snakes. Do you mind?” I stepped toward the boas.

“Get back,” the officer told me, his voice stern.

“But they might die,” I pleaded, giving him my best doe eyes. “Please. I just want to check on them. Please.”

He looked to the other officer who shrugged.
 

“Gracias,” I said. I got down on my knees and took the fattest boa in my arms. I ran my hands down the length of it until I felt the lump. The snake came to life at my touch and wrapped itself around my waist. Behind the lump, I squeezed, pushing the bulge forward, hand over hand like a tube of toothpaste, working the bulge toward the throat. The snake bucked in my arms. “C’mon, give it up,” I told him. I kneaded and rubbed and shoved. I had to get my elbow into it, but managed to get the lump moving toward its mouth.
 

When it was close, I hollered for the officer to come over. “This snake was fed recently,” I said and squeezed as hard as I could below its throat. The snake writhed and jerked, its mouth unhinged and spread open wide, and a red rubber balloon stuffed with drugs plopped out onto the ground.
 

The cop’s eyes grew wide. He told me to drop the snake and back away. I did as I was told. He grabbed the radio from his belt and called it in. I backed away further, then a little further, and into the crowd.
 

Noah watched me go, a big smile on his face.

Once I was several blocks away, I took out my phone and punched the number for Mom. Mr. Strix answered in one ring. “Carlos Mendoza was just arrested for running drugs—”

“How in the world do you know that?”

“It happened right on the street. Everyone saw it.” I had a short window. Carlos was in excruciating pain, so they’d take him straight to the hospital for the antidote, but eventually on to the police station. “Is there any chance you could keep him from making any calls? Have the customs authority hold him for questioning or something. Forty-eight hours would be great.”

“I can try, but why—”

“I have a hunch.”

The cooler had been dragged out to the bonfire. Everyone was there, drinking in celebration. Everyone except Noah.

“Even though they saw the drugs, they still arrested Noah,” I said.

Doug, tipping a beer, waved it off. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and said, “Noah’ll be fine. He’s been arrested before. No big deal.”

Jack handed me a beer. “He’ll be out in twenty-four hours.”

I hoped they were right. I couldn’t do anything for him without jeopardizing my job. I looked to Amanda and Colette. “Did you get the phone?”

“Right here,” Colette said and dug it out of her handbag. “It was in the cab of the truck.”

“Good,” I said. I scrolled through the numbers to find Maria’s. “Excellent. Amanda, you have the web thing ready?”

“Yep,” she said and handed me a slip of paper. “Here’s the URL.”

I handed it and the phone to Doug. “You’re up.”

Doug took the phone and grinned. He drew in a long breath and his expression changed to one of a ruthless drug dealer. “Okay, I’m ready,” he said.

He punched send and held the phone to his ear. We all waited, silent. After a few moments, he said, “Listen to me very carefully. Your brother has been a very naughty boy. If you ever want to see him alive again, you’ll pay what he owes. Two hundred thousand dollars.” He listened. “Well, you see, the thing is, my boss is not a patient man. By midnight. Or he dies.” He looked at me as he listened, his eyebrows raised. Then finally, “Good. You’ll transfer the money through a web site. I’m only going to give you this address once. Are you ready?” There was a long pause then he rattled off the URL. “And just in case he means less to you than we thought, we’ll come for those sweet little dogs next.” He disconnected.

I let out my breath.

“What’d you think?” he grinned. “What’d you think about the dogs? Nice touch, huh?”

I took the phone from him and ripped it open. I took out the battery and smashed the chip with a rock, then threw it into the fire. “Now we wait,” I said. “You guys were fantastic today. I can’t thank you enough.”

Colette laughed. “I’m not sure the VW fared well, but it was worth it. Noah won’t care.”

“What if she doesn’t pay?” Amanda asked.

“She will,” I said.

“But I don’t understand,” she said. “Why’d you have her pay a ransom?”

“Pressure. I want to tick her off. A hit in the pocketbook ought to do the trick. Not to mention she wants to strangle Carlos herself right about now.” I grinned. “But most of all, she’s worried, wondering how much this new guy on the block will impact her business. I wouldn’t want to be at her house right now.”

“Yeah, she’s probably pacing in circles, making her little dogs dizzy,” Doug said with a grin.

“Now what?” asked Jack. “We storm her house?”

“Now we wait.” I shook my head. I couldn’t believe these guys.
 

Jack nodded and apparently felt waiting was a good time to be drinking because he flipped the top off the cooler and started passing cold bottles around.

My phone buzzed. It was Dalton. “Excuse me,” I said and walked toward the tree house. “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me,” he said. “What are you up to?”

“I’m, uh, at the beach. Enjoying a virgin margarita.”

“Yeah, George cancelled cards tonight.”

 
Interesting.
“Did he say why?”

“No, but he seemed irritated about something.”
 

Good. Very good.

“I thought maybe we could get dinner.”

Are you serious? Just what I need right now.
“Okay,” I said. What else could I say? “I’ll meet you back at the bungalow.”

I shuffled back down to the fire. “I’ve gotta go,” I said.

“What? What about Maria and the ransom?”

“You’ll have to let me know.”

Dalton was showered, shaved, and all dressed up. “Let’s go someplace nice,” he said.
 

I changed into the cotton sundress, the only remotely formal attire I had, and we headed for the restaurant at the Playa de Delfines resort. Dalton pulled up to the front door, got out of the car and ran around to open my door for me. He offered his arm and we entered the restaurant, happy newlyweds, as the valet drove away with the car.

Candles flickered atop tables covered with white linens. The aroma of fresh fish and seafood wafted on the sea breeze. The clink of silverware on fine china mixed with the murmur of intimate conversations.

We got to our table, a table for two on the deck overlooking the ocean, and Dalton pulled out my chair for me. He certainly was making an effort.

As he sat, he said to the waiter, “We’d like a bottle of wine. The lady will choose.”

I smiled. “Your house red will be fine. Thank you.”

I looked at Dalton and he looked at me. He seemed nervous. A Navy SEAL, nervous. “I was hoping…” He made sure he had my attention. “I was hoping we could start over.”

He continued to surprise me. “How do you mean?”

“I tried to apologize today and, well, I blew it.” He managed an uncomfortable grin. “Obviously.”

I shook my head. “You didn’t blow it. It was me.”
Oh man!
“My mom always said I could hold a grudge.”

“I didn’t exactly give you a reason to like me,” he said, his voice thick.
 

I smiled. “That’s for sure.”

He let out a short, half laugh, a sigh of relief really. “Yeah.”

I grinned. The candlelight was warm, cozy. “You’re kinda growing on me, though.”

The waiter arrived with the wine. He poured the test sample. I sipped. It was fine. I gave him a nod, then he poured a glass for each of us. Dalton raised his, taking hold of it by the stem this time I noticed. “To a fresh start,” he said.

I lifted my glass to meet his. “To a fresh start.”

His eyes met mine and they softened. “I was an ass. I’m sorry.”
 

“Yes, you were.” I grinned. “But I’ve been a pain in the ass, too, so, you know.”

He laughed, a light, easy laugh. I could tell he was already feeling relaxed. He smiled and his eyes seemed to light up. “I know what you’re feeling. It’s frustrating. But you’ll make it to Special Ops someday. No doubt in my mind. You’ve got what it takes. I can see it in you. It just takes patience.”

“Yeah, patience,” I said. “Not exactly my strong suit.”

“It’ll happen.” He smiled again and I noticed how the color of his eyes seemed to change from brown to a hazel-green, taking on the hue of the green shirt that fit snuggly over his shoulders. I pictured him in his dress uniform, crisp and cut. My cheeks flushed. I felt like one of those cheerleaders, swooning over the hot soldier who was home on leave.
 

“What?” he said. “I mean it. You’ll be great.”

“Thanks,” I said. I glanced at my phone. No word yet from Amanda. “What made you want to be an agent? For that matter, what made you want to be a SEAL?”

“Oh, you know. Why does any SEAL want to be a SEAL?”

I nodded. They were a different breed, that was for sure.
 

“I knew I couldn’t be a career SEAL, though. I mean, I loved the job, don’t get me wrong. But I wanted to have another life, you know, kids.” He shrugged, disappointment in his face.

“But your marriage…?”

“Navy wives,” he said, matter-of-fact.
 

I grew up a Navy brat. I knew exactly what he meant. “I’m sorry,” I said. “The crack about your divorce the other day crossed the line. I’m really sorry.”