Memories Of You by Bobbie Cole Page B

been upset. Many men and women would have raised hell had someone altered their appearance to the extent Martínez and his California accomplice had done. She could barely drag her thoughts from the medical snafu with Seth to the man waiting for them outside the door.
    “As long he’s there and hasn’t left us,” she said. “I don’t know enough Spanish, even having spoken it on the job, to bail us out if we get into trouble here.”
    They rounded the corner from the hall they’d taken and opened the door leading outside. To Charlie’s relief, their driver was not only there, he was tossing a ball with some of the children who’d been running in the street when they’d pulled up to the clinic. The rain seemed to have stopped momentarily. The streets were still slick, but the sun was peeking through the clouds.
    Their driver said something to the children in Spanish, opened the sedan’s doors and within minutes had them moving out of the inner city and back to the highway they’d taken on their way there.
    Charlie felt weak. She’d eaten hurriedly hours earlier, but the day’s events seemed to be taking their toll. She hadn’t had but a short while to assimilate the information they’d collected nor to manage her scattered thoughts on having Seth back. Several cases had drained her physically, but none had slammed her as emotionally as this one. She’d still not asked the police in Mexico about George Martin, whether or not they knew of him.
    Nothing that can’t be handled once you’re back in Houston, Charlie. She settled against the leather seat and tried stilling the thoughts that made her brain ache. Was there a connection between Seth and Martin? If so…what? Had they worked together? Were they both part of the same law enforcement agency, or had one been after the other in a sting operation of some sort? She’d have to ask Gloria, the witness, the woman who had come to her last year, saying she’d been a friend of Martin’s and believed she knew who had killed him.
    Whenever Charlie had asked who, the woman had replied that all Martin had told her was that his boss was involved. But the man, Damien Rogers, had claimed Martin had only worked for him, that he knew nothing about his disappearance, much less his death. That had been over a year ago.
    Seth reached for her hand and pulled it into his, lacing fingers with her. “What are you thinking?”
    “I’m wondering about the cold case I mentioned to you earlier. I haven’t spoken with the Mexican police about Martin, and I need to do that before we leave.”
    “Can it wait until tomorrow?”
    “It’ll have to.” She was immediately sorry she sounded so short. “It’s more important that we do what we’re doing today. I can always phone them from Houston or ask my captain to intervene.”
    When he didn’t respond, she glanced upward. He was staring at what looked like empty space, and he had a faraway look in his eyes, as if he wasn’t there but millions of miles away.
    “Seth?” She had to call his name twice before he looked at her.
    “Hmm?” he finally responded.
    She squeezed his hand. “We can’t handle the hotels and doctors as easily from home as we can while we’re here. I’m just cranky. This case has me baffled.”
    He stroked the inside of her wrist slowly. “Sure that’s not all that’s upsetting you?”
    An obnoxious thunderclap reverberated like a slap from God, its noise keeping her from answering. The car trembled, and their driver fought to maintain control. Rain seemed to fall in buckets, flooding the streets, slamming the windshield with a force that obliterated their vision. Charlie pitched against Seth, whose arms shot around her protectively.
    The sky darkened so quickly that if she had blinked, it wouldn’t have been as fast as the change in the weather. For the first time since stepping onto Mexican soil, Charlie was frightened. Not of the people, the neighborhood from which they’d just come or not