Trigger Read online

  “I’ve never brought anyone here before, so you intrigue her.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s one of my rules.” He eyed me thoughtfully. “None of my rules seem to apply with you, though.”

  I looked up at his face, which was inches from my own. His gaze held mine with a mesmerizing intensity. My skin flushed as he moved closer to me with that powerful confidence of his. The sparkling city below, the dark sky above, all of it swirled into a kaleidoscope of colors and shapes around me. Then it faded out until there was nothing but him.

  He wrapped his arms around me, pressing me tightly to him. My hands skimmed up his muscled chest to rest on his shoulders. His breath was hot on my face. I gulped in air, wondering if my whole body would explode. Each millisecond that passed while I waited for him to kiss me was almost agonizing. My last clear thought as our lips met was that surely the whole world was on fire.

  Hours, moments, it felt like both when he broke away. I trembled as his mouth traveled down my neck. The urgency in his lips increased as his hands worked their way up my back. My fingers traveled up his neck into his hair. The feelings vibrating through me consumed all coherent thought. A soft moan escaped my throat as the heat between us rose to an intoxicating level. I wasn’t sure of anything other than I never wanted it to stop.

  Finding my lips with his own again, he started to steer me toward our room. When I didn’t move fast enough he grabbed my waist, lifting me effortlessly. I wrapped my legs around him as he walked toward the room, never breaking the kiss. To be manhandled with such ease, yet so incredibly gently, added a higher level to the already passionate situation.

  Chase stepped over the threshold into the darkened room. Stopping at the foot of the nearest bed, he carefully laid me down on my back. His hands free now, they feverishly explored my body as his lips continued their assault on my own.

  Without any warning, he suddenly stopped.

  “What is it?” I asked, concern distorting the passion in my voice.

  Frustration flashed across his face as he propped himself up on his elbows. “We can’t do this right now.”

  “Why not?” I was confused.

  “I think we need to throttle back.”

  “Why?”

  “Once we have this whole situation resolved, it will be different. For right now,” he brought his hand up to brush my check, “we have to stay focused on finding the people who’re after you and stopping them. You make it so easy to get distracted.” He smiled ruefully at me.

  He was right; we had to concentrate on the task at hand. Besides, if we had this much heat now, waiting would only make it hotter.

  “So, if you aren’t going to ravish me, what are we going to do?”

  “I was thinking of dinner. There is a lovely little place nearby with a great view of the cathedral.”

  “Don’t you think it would be better to be a little stealthier?” I suggested.

  “You don’t know Spaniards very well at all. There’ll be tons of people out. It’ll be especially crowded around the square where the Café Alcazar is located. No one will notice me.”

  Picking up on his use of the singular, I gave him a sharp look. “Don’t even think that you’re going without me,” I threatened.

  “Jordan, they have your picture, they’re looking for you. I will bring dinner back for you.”

  “You go, I go,” I stated flatly.

  “No.”

  “I can’t sit around here like some helpless fool. I am either going with you or we aren’t going at all, and we both know that isn’t going to help our cause much.”

  He stared at me thoughtfully before relenting. “Fine, we’ll both go.”

  “Do I have time to freshen up?” I asked, sliding off the bed.

  “Sure, but don’t do too much or I may not be able to control myself.” He winked, breaking the slight tension in the air.

  “Right,” I shot back with a grin.

  In the bathroom, I washed my face then ran my fingers through my hair. As I gazed at my reflection, I wondered what the night had in store of us. Not finding an answer in the mirror, I returned to Chase.

  “You ready?” Chase was standing on the bed removing the vent cover in the ceiling.

  “Yeah, what’re you doing?”

  Without answering, he reached inside. When he retracted his hand, he was holding a small nylon bag. After replacing the vent, he hopped off the bed.

  “You have a secret stash?”

  “It pays to be prepared,” he said, pulling a black handgun and several clips of ammunition out of the bag.

  I knew that he had at least one other gun on him. I wondered if he would give me this one. Chase put a clip in and checked that the safety was on. Satisfied, he tucked the gun into the waistband at the small of his back underneath his shirt.

  “Let’s go,” he said ushering me through the door and locking it behind us.

  The rooftop felt different than it had just a short time earlier. It was no longer an oasis in the middle of the madness. It was merely a pit stop where we could rest, but not escape from the deadly game we were playing.

  At the bottom of the stairs, Chase turned toward the interior of the house rather than to the exit. I followed him through a set of double doors into a courtyard filled with lush vegetation. In the middle was a beautiful fountain made of vibrant mosaic that matched the floor tiles. Water cascaded down the fountain into a pool filled with water lilies. Pale light from sconces on the walls gently illuminated this slice of paradise.

  Carmen was sitting at a table on the far end of the patio drinking a glass of wine. She and Chase spoke briefly. He kissed her on both cheeks as she said something in a scolding tone that made him chuckle.

  Carmen’s expression was serious as she turned to me. “Buena fortuna, Jordan,” she said, as though she knew we were involved in something dangerous.

  I nodded in acknowledgment. Chase spoke gently to her while squeezing her hands affectionately. After one last peck on her cheek, he led the way back to the main entrance of the hostel. At the end of the street, Chase turned toward the area where we had seen all the action earlier.

  “How far is it?”

  “Not far.”

  Wanting to have a better idea of the location of the hostel, I glanced around until I found the tiny road signs. Calle Lirio was the side street, and the larger street we were now on was Calle Mateos Gago.

  After walking a few blocks we came to a corner, and I knew once we passed it there was no going back. I looked up at Chase who gave me a confident smile, making me feel better.

  He took my hand before leading me around the corner and into a different world. There were people everywhere; walking, talking, dining and drinking. It looked more like a pedestrian mall than a roadway. The further down the street we went, the busier it became. There were restaurants and bars on both sides, filled with patrons. Eventually, we had to walk single-file to navigate through the crowd. The whole time, Chase acted as a human snowplow, never letting go of my hand.

  The street ended in a large plaza with a fountain. On the far side was a massive medieval cathedral. The church’s compound encompassed an entire city block, and was surrounded by a tall stone wall.

  “Impressive, isn’t it?” Chase asked.

  “I would say so.”

  “The Cathedral de Sevilla is the largest Gothic church in Spain. It’s one of the largest in the world, for that matter. Christopher Columbus is buried here.” He paused at the beginning of the small square.

  “Aren’t you full of fun facts,” I said dryly.

  “You aren’t the only one with a good memory.”

  Uncomfortable with this remark, I pointedly ignored it.

  “Which way?” I asked.

  Chase steered us across the plaza, making a path through the crowds of people rather than skirting them. Across the square was another tree-lined street housing three small restaurants. The last restaurant was in the middle of the block. Like every
other place we had seen, this one was jammed with customers. White lights twinkled in the trees overhead. Candles flickered in red glass holders on all the tables. Over the din of voices, I could hear Spanish guitar music coming from inside.

  From this vantage, I had a clear view down the street in front of the cathedral. It was also crowded with bars and restaurants. It seemed that all the businesses in Sevilla were bars, restaurants or hotels. Moreover, business appeared to be booming. No wonder he wasn’t worried about us blending in.

  Chase zigzagged around tables to one tucked up against the wall just down from the main entrance. I picked up the menu from the table top as I sat. The delicious aromas wafting from inside made my mouth water. The dark wood table featured a vase of fresh flowers as well as two candles flickering in red glass candle holders. The aura of the place was upscale and romantic.

  Chase took the seat across from me, but wasn’t perusing the menu. Instead, he angled himself in such a way that he had a view of the entire restaurant, the street in front of us, and the one passing in front of the cathedral. While his pose was casual, his eyes were not. They were busy scanning everything before focusing on one spot.

  “Where is it?” I didn’t look up from the menu.

  A waiter approached carrying glasses and a carafe of water, so Chase didn’t respond immediately. Chase and the waiter had a brief exchange as the man poured the water, then left.

  “You see where that first street on the right is?” He kept his voice low as he took a drink of water. “It is the white building on the corner with tables out front.”

  Trying to be inconspicuous, I eyed the building he was talking about. From where we were sitting, we would be able to see anyone going in or coming out. It looked like it was as busy as all the other restaurants in the area. The upstairs windows had small step-out balconies with wrought-iron railings. Most sported ceramic pots of cheerful flowers, were outfitted with dark green shades, and appeared to belong to apartments. The downstairs was full of well-dressed restaurant patrons. Altogether, the building looked fairly ordinary.

  The server returned with some red wine and a plate of seafood and vegetable tapas. I absently took the glass he poured. The upper floors of the Café Alcazar were dark and the curtains were closed. There was no discernible activity upstairs.

  “Not much of an alcazar,” I muttered.

  “How is that?” Chase asked.

  “’Alcazar’ is the Spanish version of the Arabic word for castle or fortress. That doesn’t look like much of a fortress to me.”

  He frowned as if somewhat impressed, but not completely so.

  “What?”

  “Good vocab, bad recon,” he stated.

  “Tell me what you see,” I challenged.

  “Nice-looking building, upper end restaurant, fairly busy. The middle floors are standard apartments. But the corner of the top floor is different.” He finished the prawn he was eating without taking his eyes off the cream-colored building.

  “What do you mean different?”

  “The glass is thicker for one. I would guess that it is shatterproof. All the shades are drawn, which is unusual for this time of year. The windows are closed, when normally they would be open to let in the night air unless there were AC units, which there aren’t.”

  I scanned the nearby buildings to confirm he was correct. Almost every window was either open to the night air or had an AC unit sticking out of it.

  “The bars on the windows aren’t decorative like the ones below. They look fortified. Obviously they don’t want anyone to get in up there. Most people wouldn’t notice the bars are different because they blend fairly well. The fire escape doesn’t reach that floor, so there is no outside exit, or entrance for that matter. The entire top floor says go away, but it says it subtly. It doesn’t attract attention.”

  He watched me scan the building to see the things he had pointed out.

  “Now what?” I asked.

  “We need to get into that corner room.”

  “How do we go about doing that?”

  He glanced around to make sure no one was close enough to overhear us. “We keep an eye on it and after the restaurant closes, we find a way in.”

  We kept a surreptitious watch on the Café Alcazar while we finished the tapas and then consumed some delectable seafood paella and freshly made bread. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary until the end of the meal. As I was finishing my rich caramel custard dessert, a solitary figure in dark clothes appeared in front of the cathedral. This individual moved in and around people quickly, so it was hard to keep track of him. He had a solid build, and moved with the fluid grace of an athlete. Everything about him indicated he knew how to handle himself. The man passed the Café Alcazar, taking a sharp left at the corner. He walked down the side of the building, then took another left into the alley behind the café, disappearing from sight.

  Something about him was disturbingly familiar. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Whatever it was, it had alarm bells ringing urgently in my head. I flicked an anxious glance at Chase. One look at his face and I knew he had also been watching the mystery man. His postured indicated that he was on high alert.

  Looking at Chase and the way he held himself, the confident ease with which he made even the smallest movement, made me realize what I found familiar about the stranger. He carried himself exactly as Chase did.

  The warning bells got louder.

  Chase nodded his head once brusquely.

  “Who? What?” I sputtered.

  “Easy,” he said, not taking his eyes off the alley where the man had vanished moments earlier. He leaned back in his chair, his dessert forgotten in front of him.

  I hoped the man would reappear and take off so we could dismiss him. The longer I sat, and the man didn’t emerge, the more apprehensive I felt. Chase asked the server for the check. Noticing the mostly empty tables around us for the first time, I realized it must be closing time.

  The streets were nearly devoid of traffic now. The other restaurants were all emptying out. Many were already closed. The only places that were remotely busy were the few bars I could see.

  The Café Alcazar looked like it was also closing for the night as two of the servers stacked the chairs and tables outside. The last few customers who left the building walked toward the closest bar.

  The waiter placed the check on the table. Chase counted out some Euros onto the small silver tray. We both watched as several employees walked out the front doors of the Café Alcazar, laughing and smoking cigarettes. They chatted for a few moments before breaking off into several groups, some heading for the bar down the road, and the others walking off in another direction. The building was now dark and deserted.

  “Let’s go.” Chase stood abruptly.

  I caught up with him as he hit the sidewalk, turned away from the direction of the cafe and started walking.

  “You know that guy may have been a customer or even an employee.” Even as I said it aloud, I knew that I didn’t believe it.

  “That might be possible except for one thing,” Chase said looking down at me. “Everyone I saw enter that building tonight left at some point. Everyone except him. I think it’s fairly safe to say he isn’t the janitor.”

  Checking my watch, I saw that it was past midnight. We crossed the plaza, veering left. Walking briskly, we reached the southern end of the cathedral in no time. The sidewalk was well-lit, so I felt exposed. Chase must not have liked it either because he quickened his pace. The massive outer wall of the cathedral towered above us.

  Reaching the midpoint of the building, we passed what appeared to be one of the main entrances to the cathedral. It had a small courtyard with a massive iron gate closing it off from the street. Chase never slowed the pace, so we were rounding the next corner quickly. There, the exterior wall slanted toward the cathedral at a ninety-degree angle, then cut back toward the street at another ninety degrees, forming a little alcove at the back of the cathedral. In the midd
le of this recess was an orange tree. Chase followed the wall to the right angle in the wall where we stood partially obscured by the massive orange tree.

  With the cool night air around us, I was acutely aware of the heat from his body. His eyes scanned the streets quickly before finally settling on mine.

  “We’re going to take the long way around so we can approach from the back. Once we find a way in, we will get upstairs and see what is up there.”

  “What if that guy is still there?”

  “We’ll figure that out when we get there,” he said, reaching under his shirt to remove the small pistol he had extracted from the vent in our room earlier.

  He checked the clip and the safety before handing it to me.

  “Take this. I want you to be able to protect yourself.”

  I tucked it in the back of my pants under my shirt.

  He kept eye contact as he continued. “If something happens, I want you to know what to do.”

  “Okay.” My voice trembled a little.

  His impassive face showed that he had slipped into the mindset of his profession. It was a place where fear couldn’t reach him, where nothing could reach him.

  Breathe in, breathe out, I told myself. Taking a firm mental grasp on the dread that was beginning to clutch at my throat, I stuffed it into my separate mental vault as I had before. Once I did that, I felt better.

  “If we get separated, make your way back to the hostel. Try to take an indirect route so no one can follow you. The hostel is on Calle Farnesio in the Barrio Santa Cruz,” he said the name clearly.

  “I saw the street signs,” I said mechanically, not caring if it gave away my dirty little secret. The name of the street, like his face at that moment, was burned permanently into my memory.

  He didn’t miss a beat.

  “If I don’t make it back to the room by noon tomorrow, I want you to go straight to the police. Demand that they contact Marcello.”

  I was not prepared for that. “Marcello? Why don’t I come find you or go somewhere to wait for you?”

  “I have a better chance of getting away if I am not worrying about you. If you’re trying to wait for me, you may get captured or worse. If you go to the police, at least I know that you’ll be safe for the interim.”