Free Caught in the Act by Jill Sorenson Page B

distance while she had dinner with her sister.
    After they’d engaged in an emotional discussion onthe outdoor terrace, Sasha had walked away from the argument, leaving Karina in tears.
    He hadn’t known what to make of the exchange. He couldn’t get close enough to hear what they were saying, and he’d noticed another tail. Chuy Pena had also been strolling around the mall, lurking in the shadows.
    Adam had returned home, wondering if he was any better than Pena. Getting caught up in Moreno’s world felt dangerous, illicit, and exciting. It was an adrenaline high, as addictive as the drugs they pushed.
    And he always came down hard afterward.
    This morning he’d spent an hour at the gym, trying to cleanse his soul with sweat. After he’d whipped his conscience into submission, he drove down E Street, slowing to a stop in front of Zócalo. Karina was outside, scrubbing the windows. It looked like vandals had broken the sign and tagged the hell out of the brick siding.
    Chuy Pena must have reported Sasha’s activities to his boss, who had disapproved, for whatever reason. Moreno had extensive gang connections. He didn’t run the crews, but he was in charge of the drug supply, so he owned the streets. At the snap of his fingers, a hundred violent criminals would jump to do his bidding.
    But what had Kari done to deserve this?
    He got out of his car and walked toward her, frowning at the yellow gunk on the windows. Egg yolk. Although she noticed him approach, she kept scrubbing, her mouth grim. She looked upset and a little tired.
    “What did the police say?” he asked, glancing at the graffiti. Otay Mesa South symbols covered the wall, claiming the territory. The upstart crew’s membershiphad been increasing at an alarming rate. There were thousands of possible suspects.
    “I didn’t call them.”
    He thrust a hand through his hair, surprised. “You know who did it?”
    She shrugged. “Kids.”
    “City maintenance would send someone out to repaint the wall.”
    “I have paint.”
    “Karina—”
    “It’s Kari.”
    She pronounced it “Kah-ri,” not “Carrie.” Adam realized he’d never introduced himself. “Adam,” he said, offering his hand.
    Tossing her scrubber into a bucket of soapy water, she pushed a lock of hair off her forehead and accepted his handshake. “Pleased to meet you.”
    Adam tried to ignore the jolt of excitement he felt at her touch. He released her hand, studying the eggshell on the window. “You have another brush?”
    Her brows rose. “What are you going to do with it?”
    “Help you, if you’ll let me.”
    “This is going to take hours.”
    “That’s fine. I don’t have to work until later this afternoon.”
    She gave him a large brush and resumed scrubbing with the smaller one. “You think I’ll change my mind about dating you?”
    “No.”
    “What’s your deal, then?”
    “I’m just being neighborly,” he said, feigning innocence.“And maybe it won’t work out between you and that other … person.”
    She returned her attention to the window, her cheeks pink. She was still nervous around him, which was fine. If she suspected he wanted to fuck her—well, he did. He wasn’t the kind of guy who wouldn’t take no for an answer, or thought he could convert lesbians, but he was always up for a new challenge.
    They cleaned the glass in silence. Adam was there to do reconnaissance, but he felt bad about it. A few instances of odd behavior didn’t make her a criminal. Considering the wrecked state of her storefront, Kari Strauss needed protection rather than prosecution.
    “Tell me about your job,” she said, dipping her brush in the soapy water again. “Why the border?”
    “Why not?”
    She glanced at him. “I don’t know many boys who say they want to be border patrol agents when they grow up.”
    “I’m not a border patrol agent. I’m a Customs and Border Protection officer.”
    “Oh, sorry,” she said, seeming amused by his correction. “I