CARTAGENA, COLOMBIA
“Bryson works for me,” Mena said and sipped his wine, taking a moment to let that news flash hit home.
No. Even as her mind instantly rejected his words, Audrey’s throat tightened. He wasn’t lying. Why would he? Except maybe to play with her and Gabe, but hadn’t he already gotten his fill of that through the long, agonizing first two courses of the three-course meal? He’d refused to talk about Bryson through the lemon dill crab cake appetizers, or the stuffed veal chops main course. He’d ignored Gabe’s repeated demands for answers and instead rambled on like they were old friends catching up as each new dish arrived. The food had tasted like wood to her, was about as appealing although Mena most certainly had only the best of chefs in his kitchen, and she spent more time pushing it around her plate than eating.
Finally, when the classic Colombian dessert of pastel de tres leches arrived, Mena dropped his bomb and then sat back with that Cheshire Cat smile, scrutinizing her face for a reaction.
Unable to swallow, she returned her wine glass to the table with a hand that shook. Gabe’s solid hand landed on her thigh and squeezed in a silent “I’m here” reminder.
That small gesture meant more than any words of reassurance he could have spoken. She grasped his hand under the table and met Mena’s amused gaze. “What does my brother do for you?”
“Little things.” He flashed a grin. “Nothing too…involved…yet, I assure you, although I admit I was working him up to it.”
Oh God, Bryson. “Why?”
“He was very good at what he did, moving merchandise efficiently in and out of countries. Truly the best I’ve ever met, and I only deal with the best. I cannot suffer fools, which is why I was extremely displeased when Bryson never showed for our afternoon meeting on Thursday. I never thought him a fool, but I started to wonder if I had miscalculated with him and sent people to…find him.”
“So the day Bryson was taken,” Gabe clarified, “you two had a meeting. Here in Cartagena or in Barranquilla?”
“Here, of course.”
The itinerary, Audrey realized. Gabe was trying to pin down Bryson’s plans for that day, trying to figure out who he had dealings with and who might want him out of the picture.
She sat forward. “Do you know why Brys planned to go to Barranquilla before meeting you?”
Mena gave her an indulgent smile that said he thought a woman didn’t belong in this conversation. Yes, well, to borrow a phrase from Gabe’s book, fuck him. Woman or not, she deserved to hear all the details.
“It was not for me,” Mena finally answered when she didn’t back down, his smile straining a little around the edges. “Perhaps he had other business to attend to there. Bryson was a busy man, and as long as his other business did not interfere with mine, I saw no need to keep tabs.”
Uh-huh. Somehow, Audrey doubted that. And it didn’t escape her notice that Mena kept referring to her brother in the past tense. “You said you know where he is. Did you kill him?”
“I said I might know.” He sent an aggravated look toward Gabe. “Really, Commander Bristow, you should muzzle your wife until she learns some tact.”
Outrage burned through Audrey. She opened her mouth to give him a piece and a half of her mind, but Gabe squeezed her thigh hard. She closed her mouth and looked over at him. His expression was dark and shuttered as he leaned toward Mena.
“She’s far more tactful than I am. Now answer her question. Where is Bryson?”
Mena’s jaw slid to one side. Then he motioned to Liam with a flick of the wrist.
Gabe tensed up beside her, readying for who knows what, but Liam simply laid a map out on the table and went back to skulking in the corner like a good little minion.
“I don’t have an exact location,” Mena said and poked a finger at the map. “But I think he might be here.”
Heart hammering, Audrey stood to get a better look at the street map of Bogotá. Mena’s finger rested on an intersection in a well-to-do part of the city barely a mile from Bryson’s apartment.
Gabe also stood and leaned over the map. “What makes you think he’s there? And why haven’t you gone in after him if you want him back so badly?”
Both good questions. Audrey had a feeling he smelled a trap. In fact, even her untrained nose caught a whiff of one.
Mena lifted a negligent shoulder. “Politics, mostly. I do want Bryson back because, despite what you and your government think of me, Commander, I’m not a monster without friends. I like him, consider him a good friend, and I want him safe again. I also want his captors punished for making me lose hundreds of thousands of dollars a day by taking him from me.