Barefoot with a Stranger (Barefoot Bay Undercover #2)(20)

“Used to be,” he said, this time not able to keep anything out of his voice. Not the longing for his old life, not the bitterness for how it had been taken away from him.

Even if it was by his own doing.

“The main thing is that you’re not her brother or cousin, so maybe she’ll listen to you,” Gabe continued, his brain obviously on his sister’s past and not Mal’s.

“Define listen,” he muttered. ’Cause he was pretty sure Gabe didn’t mean Mal should be teaching her the things they covered in the sack.

“She’s a planner, our Chess,” Gabe said. “She’s obsessed with things being done in order and by an agreed-upon agenda. Must be the computer programmer nerd in her. She’s never made an impulsive move in her life.”

Yeah? She was pretty f*cking impulsive last night. “That so? Why is that?”

“Who knows? She’s the baby of the family, so maybe we’ve overprotected her a little bit.”

“A little bit?” Mal joked.

“Fine, a lot. And I’m the worst, probably, so I guess that’s why I should be the one to encourage her to get out of her, you know, comfort zone.”

Oh, he knew her comfort zone. He remembered exactly how it tasted. “I’m sure she can get out of it when she really wants to.”

“But she’s never been interested in the family business beyond computer shit and claims she’s not an adventure and danger junkie like the rest of us.”

He considered that. If true, she sure acted out of character last night, or maybe Gabe didn’t know his little sister at all.

“In my opinion, I’m doing her a favor with this gig,” Gabe continued. “She needs to get out and see the world and stop obsessing about settling down and having kids. She hears that clock ticking.”

Well, that took Mal out of the running. Not that he wanted to run with her, but it was good to know what she was about. Although, last night? There was no settling down going on.

Mal glanced in the general direction she’d gone, trying to reset his understanding of Chessie. “Maybe you see her one way, but she acts another when she’s out in the world?”

Gabe shot him a look. “She’s my sister, man. I know her better than anyone.”

Maybe. Maybe not.

“Chess needs to get out more, so this job is perfect. Especially if you can make her forget that f*ckwad she’s been with for a year.”

And two months. And ten days. “How do you think I’m going to do that?”

“Make her love life in the field, bro.” He elbowed Mal. “I want her to move here and work for me, so help me sell this shit.”

Not exactly how he was thinking about making her forget her ex. But, if Gabe was right about her life goals, Mal was all wrong for her. Hell, with his life, he was all wrong for any woman who wanted more than one night of a good time. That’s all he could offer.


Gabe walked to the door of the last bungalow on the cul-de-sac, but stopped a few yards away. “Now let’s talk about what I really want from you down there.”

“Not to guide her through Caibarién and act as the producer of a fake documentary while she snags some DNA?” He’d had a sneaking suspicion it was more than that when Gabe briefed him on the phone a few days ago.

“Well, yes, that, and…” Gabe turned to Mal, a world of hurt in his eyes. “I gotta know what happened to Isadora, Mal.”

He stared at his friend, completely understanding the request. Except… “You know I’m banned from ever entering Gitmo, right? They think I’d have some kind of access to secret files, so denied access is part of my punishment.”

“Punishment?” Gabe snorted. “That part’s a blessing. But, you don’t have anywhere near the prison. She left our…her…kid in Caibarién, so there must be a clue there. Someone must know something. Maybe why…she stayed there after I had to leave.”

Mal eyed Gabe closely. “Are you pissed at her for not telling you?”

He didn’t answer right away, looking off with uncertainty in his eyes. “She couldn’t leave Cuba if she had a baby, because he would have been a Cuban citizen and you know they wouldn’t let him go easily. And she knew as well as I did the consequences of me returning to the island.”

Death. That was the consequence. The pricks who wanted him dead would never touch Gabe on US soil, or anywhere else, but if he tried to enter Cuba? He wouldn’t make it through José Martí airport without a bullet in his back. Even Gabe. Especially Gabe.

“I just have to be sure no one knew that she and I were….” He closed his eyes. “If someone took her out as vengeance against me, that someone’s gonna die.”

He didn’t bother to argue or suggest that the someone dying might be Gabe if he made the mistake of trying to go to Cuba. Why state the obvious? “Investigating her death is not a two-day job, Gabe. You need a spy on the ground, a professional who can infiltrate and dig. You know I can’t do that for very long without getting on the CIA radar. Drummand still has spies in the country and a staff up in DC that does what he wants them to do.”

Gabe looked skyward at the mention of the CIA supervisor they’d both worked for when they were at Guantanamo Bay prison on assignment.