Cyn moved forward, hesitating several feet away from Emilio. "What's happened? Why does Señor Carranza want to see me?" She grabbed the back of the sofa, clutching the flowery material in her hands.
"Señor Carranza will explain everything. But you must hurry, señora," Emilio said.
"Now see here, one cotton-pickin' minute." Mimi put her hands on her ample hips, giving Emilio a warning glare. "You ain't taking this girl nowhere unless we get the word from Nate Hodges. Ain't that right, Dundee?"
"I'm afraid I must insist," Emilio said. "You can trust us, Señora Porter."
"Now that's where you're wrong, pal." Dundee, his automatic still pointed at Emilio, moved toward their uninvited visitor. "We know we can't trust you."
"Señora, surely after all Señor Carranza has done to help you, to finance your shelter, you can trust him." Emilio took a step toward Cyn.
Dundee moved quickly, placing his big body between Emilio and Cyn. "You go back downstairs and tell your boss that Ms. Porter isn't going anywhere with him."
"But he only wishes to take you to the hospital to see Nathan Hodges," Emilio said.
"What?" Cyn cried out. "What's happened to Nate?"
"Don't listen to him," Mimi said, grabbing Cyn by the arm. "It's some kind of trap."
Jerking out of Mimi's grasp, Cyn rushed toward the bedroom. Mimi caught her just as she swung open the door. "Don't be a fool, gal!"
Dundee edged closer to Emilio, who hadn't budged an inch. "What happened to Hodges?"
"He was shot in an ambush coming out of some seedy diner," Emilio said.
Cyn cried out. She clutched Mimi, feeling as if her own two legs weren't sturdy enough to hold her weight. If Nate was hurt, she had to go to him. Nothing and no one was going to keep her away from him. Not Ramon Carranza or Emilio Rivera. Not even Dundee. "I've got to go to the hospital."
"And so you will, honey child," Mimi assured her. "Mr. Dundee here will take you, won't you?"
Dundee never took his eyes off Emilio, but he nodded agreement as he stepped closer to his opponent. "You can go tell your boss that Ms. Porter doesn't need a ride to the hospital."
Emilio, as if reconciled to the fact that Cyn was not going to leave with him, turned toward the outside door. "I will relay your message."
"One more thing," Dundee said as Emilio opened the door. "Tell your boss that Ms. Porter won't be out of my sight for a minute. My job is to take care of her, and I always do my job, no matter what."
The minute the front door slammed shut, Cyn slumped into Mimi's arms. "What if... if Nate's dead."
"Honey child, we don't—"
"While you're getting dressed, I'll make a few phone calls," Sam Dundee said. "If I don't get some answers, we'll go straight to the hospital."
Pulling out of Mimi's comforting arms, Cyn rushed into the bedroom and began changing clothes. Mimi followed, closing the door behind her.
"Carranza was crazy if he thought you'd just go with him, and even crazier if he thought Dundee would let you go." Mimi flung open her closet, and, standing on tiptoe, reached up to the top shelf. Turning around, she held out a small handgun and a loaded clip. "I'll go with you if you insist on going, and I'll take along my little baby here."
Cyn stuffed her red blouse down into her navy slacks, pulled up the zipper and grabbed a sweater from out of her open suitcase lying on the bed. The minute Mimi laid the gun on the bed and began removing her housecoat, Cyn stared at the automatic. She had never held a gun. She hated them as much as she did knives. She despised any type of weapon.
"You aren't going with us, Mimi," Cyn said. "This isn't your problem."
When Mimi started to protest, Cyn held up a restraining hand. "I will not put your life in any more danger, but it seems I can't escape. I'm beginning to understand what Nate meant about having violence thrust upon you."
Cyn stared down at the gun lying on Mimi's bed. What if the only way to protect her life was to use that gun? What if the time came when Nate's life depended on her being able to defend him? Cyn, her hands wet with perspiration and trembling with uncertainty, picked up the automatic, inserted the clip and reached for her purse.
"I'll borrow this," Cyn said, placing the gun inside her leather bag.
"Be careful," Mimi said. "Let Dundee do his job. And call me when you find out something about Nate."
Several loud raps on the bedroom door interrupted any further conversation. "Are you ready, Ms. Porter?" Dundee asked. "I haven't been able to find out much over the phone. Hodges and Romero have both been admitted to the hospital."
Giving Mimi a quick hug and kiss, Cyn opened the door. She left the apartment with Dundee, pausing briefly in the hallway to wave a final farewell to Mimi.
As they walked down a flight of steps, Cyn asked her bodyguard. "Was Nate shot?"
"Gunned down."
"Oh, my God!"
"He and Romero and a female agent were riddled by an Uzi when they came out of a local diner about one-thirty this morning."
Cyn forced herself not to cry, not to faint. Walking briskly to keep up with Dundee, who held her securely by one arm, she followed him outside and into his car.
Cyn's worst fears had come true. Nate had been so sure that Ryker would confront him man-to-man. "Are they alive?"
"The woman is dead. My sources couldn't tell me anything about Romero or Hodges except that they were both still alive when the ambulance brought them in to the hospital."
Cyn leaned her head back against the seat. The thought of Nate hurt, maybe even dying, was almost more than she could bear.
The trip to the hospital seemed endless as the streets began to blur. The lights and the darkness merged. Cyn prayed. She couldn't lose Nate. If he died, they would be as doomed to an eternity without fulfillment as the ancient lovers were. If Nate died, she didn't want to live.
Chapter 13
Nate leaned against the wall just inside the first emergency room cubicle. He felt like hell. His side hurt despite the painkiller the nurse had shot into his hip, over his stringent protests. And he had a headache the size of Texas. He picked up his jacket, belt and sheath off the nearby chair, placing the belt and sheath over his arm and covering them with his jacket. He ran his fingers over his bandaged side, grimacing from the pain that bending his arm caused. Looking down at his opened shirt, he thought about trying to button it, then decided it wouldn't be worth the effort.
J. P. Higdon, Nick Romero's boss, had just left. He had assured Nate that everything possible was being done to save Romero's life and that the agency was handling the situation with the local authorities.
For the last two hours, on the ride to the hospital and while the emergency room staff treated his gunshot wound, Nate had relived those few fatal moments outside the all-night diner. Had they been careless? How had Ryker known where they were meeting? Had Carranza had him under surveillance? Or maybe one of Ryker's associates in the Marquez syndicate? Nate felt guilty. He shouldn't have been so certain that Ryker wouldn't resort to an ambush. What hurt the most was knowing that he himself hadn't really been the gunman's target. Romero and Webb had been the intended victims. Webb was dead and Romero was hanging on by sheer willpower.
Ryker had issued a warning. Nate knew that, one by one, Ryker was going to attack the people closest to Nate. First John Mason. Now Nick Romero. There was only one person left...the most important person. And Ryker would try to kill her. Nate knew that as surely as he knew her death would destroy him.
Nate's big body shook, not from shock or pain, but from fear. Closing his eyes tightly, he sought to block out the fear, but instead the visions that flashed through his mind only heightened the terror. Dreams. The dreams of his brown-eyed lover that had once given him so much comfort. Dreams of Cyn lying dead in Ryker's arms.