Free Traitor, The by Jo Robertson Page B

night, isn't it?"
    He couldn't answer her, couldn't even look at her. If
anything had happened to Lupe because Rafe had been ... God, he didn't want to
think about the possibility.
    "Is this about what happened last night?" Her
voice sharpened to a razor's edge of frustration and curiosity.
    Rafe made his face as hard and glacial as the spot in the
middle of his chest felt. "How can you ask about something like that now?"
    Her face flushed prettily and somehow that made him angrier.
Lupe might be dead and she was thinking of their tryst? Irrational to blame
her, he knew, and so he clenched his jaw to keep from making a complete jackass
out of himself.
    Understanding dawned on her and her words stumbled over
themselves. "Oh God, no. I didn't mean that. I meant the attack in the
alley."
    "Sorry," he said shortly, annoyed with himself for
having thought the worst of her. Irritated that his own mind had gone to sex
first.
    "What's wrong," she asked again, her voice more
insistent this time.
    But he ignored the question, grabbed his cell phone, and
speed-dialed Detective Max Jensen. He turned his back on her for the second
time in as many minutes.
    "Yeah?" Max's voice seemed distracted.
    "Can you hurry up the forensics on that blood?" Rafe
looked over his shoulder to see Isabella leaning across the desk, her brow
furrowed in concentration.
    Eavesdropper.
    "Fuck you, Hashish," Max returned good naturedly. "No
greeting, no hello? And here I thought your eleven o'clock appointment was
about getting laid."
    "Why would you think that?"
    "Duh. Maybe because the woman I saw when I left your
office was exactly your type? Porcelain skin, hair like a Hershey's chocolate
bar. Oh, and the legs, don't forget the legs, man."
    Damn Max's powers of observation. "Cut the poetic crap."
Rafe lowered his voice. "The blood in the alley might belong to Lupe."
    "Aw, fuck me!" Max was the only person who knew
Lupe was a C.I. for the DEA, and he knew that only because he and Rafe had been
friends since college and were still tight. Lupe's safety depended on complete
anonymity. Rafe's too.
    "Sure, buddy, right away. I'll get on it immediately."
Max hesitated, his voice strained. "But Rafe?"
    "Yeah?"
    "Don't worry about it, okay? It's probably just the
animal blood anyway. Lupe's smart."
    "Yeah, sure. You're right. But, Max, just in case ...
"
    "I'll get right back to you."
    Max hung up with a click, and Rafe sat staring at the phone
in his hand.
    When he turned around to face Isabella, he worked hard to
keep the emotion from his face. Lupe had been his C.I. for almost three years,
infiltrating Vargas' gang and passing the information on to the DEA.
    He swiped his hand across his face. He needed a shave, he
thought irrelevantly. He looked at Isabella, momentarily forgetting why she sat
opposite him and what she wanted. She lifted her brows expectantly.
    And then he recalled that Lupe had a pregnant girlfriend and
... Jesus! But there was nothing he could do about Lupe or his
girlfriend right now.
    The low rumbling of his stomach reminded him that he'd
missed breakfast this morning. "I'm leaving," he said abruptly,
replacing his cell phone in his jacket and striding toward the office door.
When he looked back, Isabella still sat there, turning to stare at him. "Well,
come on," he snapped. "If you want to work this case with me, you'll
have to move faster than that."
    Max would check out the blood and call him back as soon as he
knew anything. Rafe couldn't worry about Lupe now.

 
     
    Chapter
Twelve
     
    Bella waited until the outer office door slammed behind Rafe
with a resounding thwack. Who did he think he was, issuing orders like that? Usually
she was the one telling people what to do.
    She didn't want to follow him like a puppy, but she'd do
anything to stay involved in the Diego Vargas case. She'd won the first round.
Better to put her pride aside for the moment. She jumped up and scrambled after
him, leaving her briefcase unlocked on the floor.
    For