Free Barefoot With a Stranger (Barefoot Bay Undercover Book 2) by Roxanne St. Claire Page A

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.
    “Whose dick does Roger Drummand suck to keep his job anyway?” Gabe mused. “He can’t still be getting a paycheck based on the power of his father’s reputation.”
    “Like hell he couldn’t be. William Drummand’s face is practically etched in marble in the entry of Langley, still the most-revered Cold War spy ever to come through the agency.”
    “I met him once,” Gabe said.
    “Don’t tell me. He has an ego the size of Russia, lives on his past glories and expects his son to do the same?”
    “Actually, he was a cool old dude. Powerful as shit, yeah. And he really cares about the agency.”
    Mal snorted. “Then that apple fell far because Roger’s not even fit to tie Dad’s shoes. Every assignment and promotion he ever got was because of his last name. When William Drummand kicks, Roger will be shuffled to an even less important job than whatever he has now.”
    “But in the meantime…” Gabe reminded him.
    “In the meantime, I have to remember that uncovering an embezzler in his organization was probably Roger Drummand’s greatest career achievement. And if he thinks I got the money they never found and he could lock me up again, it would be another feather in his almost bald cap.”
    “You mean to tell me they never located the half mill?” Gabe blew out a whistle as he reached the door.
    “I guess someone found it, but not the US government.”
    “Think your old pal