Free Concrete Evidence by Rachel Grant Page B

your work was so taxing. Maybe after you finish your computer game, you should take a nap.”
    He covered her hand with his own, rubbing her palm against the stubble he hadn’t bothered to shave. His green eyes fixed on hers, and his mouth curved in an alluring half smile. “Only if you take one with me.”
    She rolled her eyes. She’d give him grief for hitting on her again, but she was the one who’d stepped close and touched him. The air thickened as his intense gaze ensnared her. Gone was the feckless intern; in his place was a compelling man she wanted to know.
    She heard footsteps, breaking the spell. She tried to pull her hand away, but Lee gripped her fingers tighter.
    “Well, well, well,” a familiar voice said. “If it isn’t my favorite…Cream Puff.”
    She ripped her hand from Lee’s and whipped around. The last time she’d seen Jake, she’d been locked in a stinking Mexican jail cell.

C HAPTER N INE

    One year earlier
    Oaxaca, Mexico
    E RICA SAT ON THE DIRT FLOOR of the jail cell. The cell had no window, no bunk, no plumbing, and the air was hot and stagnant. She’d given up on breathing through her mouth to avoid the putrid stench hours ago. She pressed herself against the bars and tried to get comfortable in the least filthy spot. Previous prisoners had peed on the floor and used their own feces to write Spanish swear words on the concrete walls. Flies coated the curse words, giving the letters both motion and sound. A high-end art gallery might appreciate the display, but she didn’t.
    She had to get out of here.
    Before he locked her inside the cell, the officer made her take off the wet suit she’d donned over her shorts and T-shirt. Her clothes had long since dried. The salt on her skin made her feel itchy and twitchy, and she was sick to her stomach with fear. What the hell was going to happen to her?
    She’d asked in both English and Spanish to speak with someone from the Instituto Nacional de Antropología e Historia . She needed to convince an INAH official that Jake meant to steal from the Mexican government. She wasn’t the criminal. She’d been trying to save the artifacts when she took them and fled. But the officers ignored her.
    The arresting officer pulled a chair into the corridor outside the cell. A fat burrito dripped juice onto his pant leg. The aroma of spices and beans masked the stench of the cell for a brief moment. She guessed it was early evening, which meant she hadn’t eaten in about twenty-four hours. She’d give anything for a bite of that burrito. “Are you finally going to question me?”
    “No.”
    “They know everything they need to, Cream Puff.” Jake walked into the corridor carrying another burrito. “Leave us alone,” he said to the officer. The man stood up and left.
    Shit. “The cops are on your payroll,” she said bitterly.
    “Of course. I have a very large payroll. But then, I have a very large income. Which you are jeopardizing.” He sat down in the vacated chair and ate a bite, making a show of savoring the food. His smile was predatory. “Hungry?”
    She changed her mind. There were several things she wouldn’t do for a meal, and they all involved Jake.
    “Tell me where the artifacts are, and I’ll let you go.”
    “No.”
    “You can’t win, sweetheart.”
    “You’ll never find the artifacts. You need to cooperate with me .”
    “You’ve got spunk, that’s for sure. But that’s all you’ve got.” He dumped the food on the floor, just out of her reach. “See you tomorrow.”
    She repeatedly called out to the officers, demanding they contact INAH. At last an officer entered the hallway and said, “If you don’t shut up, we’ll stop giving you water.”
    She shut up.
    Sleep came with great difficulty but was the only way to pass the time, the only way to escape the hunger that gnawed at her from the inside.
    Jake returned the following day. From the slanting light in the hallway, she guessed it was evening and she’d been