Body Heat by Brenda Novak Page A

family. The one everyone looked up to.”
    She pretended this was a casual conversation, but he could tell she was taking it all in. “Any siblings?”
    â€œTwo white boys. Mean sons of bitches, too.”
    â€œOlder or younger than you?”
    â€œOlder.” And stronger. At least back then. He had no idea what they were like now. He only knew they’d joined forces to beat the crap out of him on several occasions, usually because he’d come across them on their own property and refused to step out of the way. He’d been tired of seeing his father and everyone else treat them like little princes while he couldn’t pick an orange without being accused of stealing.
    â€œYour father didn’t stop them?”
    â€œHe turned a blind eye. He knew it would get back to his wife if he did and cause an even bigger problem.”
    â€œYour brothers still live there?”
    â€œDon’t know. I’ve never asked anyone.” Even Jorge.“But I can’t imagine they’d leave. They’re eventually going to inherit a sizeable farm right outside of Bordertown.”
    â€œWhere’s your mother?”
    â€œBuried in the town cemetery.”
    The microwave dinged but she made no move to recover the poultry. “What happened to her, Rod?”
    â€œLung cancer. Never smoked a day in her life, yet she died of lung cancer.” He chuckled bitterly. “Doesn’t seem fair, does it?”
    â€œNone of it sounds fair. But you’re not the person you were then. You’d be going back as someone else. Someone to be reckoned with.”
    He cocked an eyebrow at her. “What does that mean?”
    â€œIt means you can handle whatever’s waiting for you there—a killer who’s shooting illegal aliens, two mean sons of bitches who might still benefit from a good ass-whopping, a father who must have been a fool not to love you…and the sight of a grave that will probably break your heart.”
    â€œSee? This is why I don’t talk to you,” he said.
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œYou just don’t understand.”
    Knowing he meant the opposite, she smiled. “When are you leaving?”
    â€œI guess I might as well go tonight. Any chance you’ll take me to the airport?”
    â€œYou think you can get a flight?”
    â€œI doubt I can get into Tucson, but I should be able to reach Phoenix. I’ll rent a car and drive from there.”
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    Sophia’s long hair was dark enough to blend in with that of the Mexicans she’d encounter, but the color of her eyesand her skin tone would give her away. Her light green irises drew attention wherever she went. People always commented on how startling they were. And, although she had a bit of a tan now that it was summer, her skin was most definitely that of a white person. But at least she wouldn’t look any more like a cop than she would a Mexican citizen. She had the tattoo “sleeve” partially covering one arm to thank for that. It might be a remnant of her wild youth, but she still liked the symbols of good and evil portrayed there. They showed humanity at its most realistic—never wholly honorable and never wholly bad. Besides, those tattoos gave her the hard edge she sometimes needed, helped make up for the fact that she was only five feet five inches tall and one hundred and ten pounds.
    She pulled on a tank top to go with her jeans and biker boots. Then she combed her hair into a thick ponytail and lifted her pant leg so she could strap her pistol to her right calf before hopping onto the stripped-down Harley she’d purchased last summer. Other than Rafe and her brother, that bike was her only true love. She’d bought it after a particularly painful breakup, at a time when she preferred being single for the rest of her life to trusting another man. She’d been without sex long enough to rethink that “never again” attitude, but the