Abducted:Reconnaissance Team (Texas Rangers: Special Ops) by Tarah Scott, Evan Trevane Page A

good relationship,” Sanchez replied.
    “How many shipments can he handle?” 
    “One a week,” Sanchez replied.
    “How long can he maintain a weekly shipment?” 
    “Indefinitely.” 
    Ben didn’t believe that. In order for the Remmeys to comply for any length of time, Sanchez would have to return their granddaughter. Once he did, they would ship the girl off to some obscure European country—and Francis Remmey would probably insist that Larissa go with her—then he would tell Sanchez to go to hell. Sanchez had to know that.
    Sanchez leaned back in his chair. “Your police record indicates you do more than transport. Perhaps I can interest you in some business on the US side of the border.” 
    “I don’t do sales.” 
    “Sales isn’t what I had in mind. I need to make sure the shipments from the US continue.” 
    Ben gave him a penetrating stare. “You’re talking enforcement.” 
    “Motivation,” remove extra space Sanchez said.
    “Motivation as in Francis Remmey?” 
    “You are very perceptive.” 
    “Stupid people don’t last long in this business. What kind of motivation do you have in mind?” 
    “If you pass my test, I will show you.” 
    “Test?” Ben repeated.
    “One simple test,” Sanchez said. “Then I will show you exactly what I want.”
    * * *
    In her worse imaginings, Liz couldn’t have envisioned the night ending with her abduction and transportation to one of the most lawless cities in the world. She hadn’t noted any diplomatic tags on the Mercedes the Mexican drove, but they had been waved across the border as if entering a friend’s driveway. That might have been a good sign, if not for the revolver pressed against her hip. The American’s arm tightened around her shoulders. She looked in the rearview mirror as they passed a streetlight and caught the Mexican’s eyes on her.
    “Eyes straight,” the American ordered. “I don’t want to get pulled over because you drifted into opposing traffic.” 
    The Mexican grinned. “Nothing to worry about. The police here are my friends.” 
    “I don’t much want a head-on collision, either,” the American shot back. “Forget her. I told you. We don’t make a move until we talk to Carlos.” 
    “Carlos will fuck her himself,” the Mexican grumbled.
    “Maybe. But if you fuck with him, he’ll kill you—then me for allowing it.” 
    Liz closed her eyes and forced back the panic that had her heart pounding ninety miles an hour. The men had taken her clutch-purse. If they left her somewhere and drove off, the locator would lead to the car and not to her.  How long would it take for someone to notice she was missing? Didn’t a person have to be missing for forty-eight hours before a report could be filed? Richard didn’t expect her back at the hotel until the early hours of the morning, and wouldn’t look for her until brunch. Would Larissa notice her absence and ask questions? Liz bit back tears. Not if she was entertaining Adam.
    When the American connected Liz with Adam, the Mexican had said ‘ a cop .’ It hadn’t been a statement, but a question.
    The Mercedes turned onto a private drive and passed through a grove of palm trees. Her heart beat faster—something she hadn’t thought possible. Why would these men suspect Adam of being a cop? Why would a cop model at a fashion party? Maybe trying to catch the criminals that now held her hostage?
    The car left the trees and stars spread across the sky as far as the eye could see. The Mercedes’ headlights washed across the white adobe of a single story house with an arched doorway. Beyond the house, Liz glimpsed tall palms. A chill sliced deep through her trembling insides. She was about to die.
    You’re not dead yet. Think. Was Larissa involved in criminal activity? More likely, her millionaire husband was involved. He wouldn’t be the first man to have made his fortune on the wrong side of the law.
    Adam being an undercover cop would explain much