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She touched her lips, her eyes shimmering.
“Don’t be.” Her voice was the barest of whispers.
Before he could respond, she slipped away to her bedroom.
He stared after her. The only thing he had to offer Gia was his protection and temporary physical gratification. He wouldn’t be around long enough for it to be anything more. And if he made it safe for her to stay, Zach was better suited for her.
Something green slithered through his veins and burned in his chest.
Caleb exhaled hard, running a hand through his hair, and stepped outside.
He pulled up Nathan Long’s number.
“Yo, amigo.” Nathan’s Texas drawl rumbled over the line. Dìleas’s VP of Corporate Security was a six-foot-six former SEAL whose ice-blue eyes, spiky hair, and perpetual five o’clock shadow made him look more like a member of a biker gang than a corporate executive. “You still in Arizona?” His voice lowered. “Sorry about your mom.”
“Thanks.” Caleb cleared his throat. “I need your help. It’s not Dìleas business, so I’ll understandif you say no.”
“Well, now you’ve got me curious. What’s going on?”
“I need everything you can dig up on a Vincente Garcia in Miami. He owns a nightclub and some restaurants.” Caleb hesitated, then added, “And Gianna Barone, early thirties. She’s a medical doctor. Practiced in Miami. Originally from New York, I think. As soon as you can get it to me.”
Nathan’s easygoing tone disappeared. “You good, brother? You know Lachlan, Ryder, and I have your six.”
Caleb stared up at the endless blue sky, a curious lump in his throat. The three men who’d started Dìleas were as tight as blood brothers, but he’d never considered himself part of their inner circle.
“I’m good. Just trying to help out a woman with a problem that needs to be solved.” His fingers tightened around the phone. “I’ll be sticking around here for a few days, maybe a week. Ryder told me I could take the time.”
“Do what you need to do, brother. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can with the info you need,” Nathan said.
“Thanks, man.” Caleb ended the call.
With any luck, Nathan would dig up something useful he could use as leverage to get this Garcia to back off. Gia could stay on the rez and he’d return to the life he’d made for himself far from Arizona.
A vehicle approached. Caleb’s hand instinctively brushed the butt of his Glock.
Zach’s cruiser pulled up.
His cousin got out, striding towards him. “I just got a call from Gallup PD.”
Chapter Nine
“And?”Calebgesturedforhis cousin to follow him into the house. Tossing his suit coat over the back of the sofa, he rolled up his shirtsleeves.
Zach’s gaze dropped to Caleb’s gun, then lifted. If he had a problem with Caleb being armed on Navajo land, he kept it to himself.
“They traced the license plate you gave them for the black SUV. Belongs to a guy named Manuel Ortega. Lives in Phoenix. Here’s where it gets interesting. Ortega pops up in the ACJIS.”
“English, Cousin.”
“Arizona’s version of the National Criminal Information Center.” Zach braced against the wall, arms crossed. “Looks like he’s originally from Gallup. Had ties to the Aztec Kings—a local motorcycle gang on the FBI’s radar for guns and drug trafficking.”
Caleb’s jaw tightened. “What does he do in Phoenix?”
“He’s a warehouse manager for Azamex Food Distributors. They import Mexican and Central American snacks and distribute them to stores throughout the Southeast.”
Azamex.The name rang a bell.
Caleb searched his memories. His old man had worked there once, stocking their warehouse before he died. Sometimes he brought home boxes of individually packaged chips—a rare treat in a house where there hadn’t been many.