Author's Note:  once again I apologize for getting this out a week later than I wanted to.  Unfortunately, this story just isn't progressing as fast as the other did.  But that's also good, because it gives me time to really make sure that I have to plot going where I want. 

Once again, this chapter did not make it past my betas, and I'm sorry for that, but I really wanted to get it out tonight.  ^_^  Please let me know if there are any glaring errors you see that need to be fixed.

Author's thanks at the end.

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It courtyard was quiet, the winter sun shining down with enough warmth to banish the need for anything heavier than a light jacket. 

   It was two or so in the afternoon, and Neva Velasquez was reading on the terra cotta patio, a glass of iced tea in front of her and a pistol on her hip.  Her brother had asked for privacy as he gardened, so here she sat, discouraging anyone who might intrude on his thoughts.

   If only . . .  She stopped herself from thinking the same thoughts that'd been haunting her for weeks now.  Carlos wouldn't tolerate hearing them, and they did no good when kept to herself.  Still, she couldn't help wishing that Teresa had made herself a bit more accessible, or at least easier to find.  It would have taken a great deal of stress off her brother, and therefore off her.

   "Señorita Velasquez." 

   Neva looked up from her thoughts to find one of the cartel's many henchmen standing off to her side, cell phone in hand.  She took it from him.  "Salga de aquí."  Get out of here.  Then she put the phone to her ear.  "Hablas."

   "Damnit.  I told that híbrido that I wanted to talk to Velasquez.  Escuche aquí, senorita.  Déme el jefe."  /Listen here, missy.  Give me the boss.\

   The woman rolled her eyes at the man's arrogant tone.  "This is Neva Velasquez.  My brother asked not to be disturbed by anyone . . . and until I learn what you're calling about, that includes you."

   There was a pause on the line as the man considered his options.  "I finally found the little agitadora.

   Trouble-maker.  Neva recognized the man's voice.  "Mr.  Keel.  So good to finally hear from you . . . and with such anticipated news.

   "Can I talk to Velasquez now, or are you going to put me on hold again?  I've already been holding for two damn hours, and quite frankly, I'm getting sick and tired of being given the run around.  You people hired me –"

    "That's right, Mr. Keel.  We hired you.  Nearly a year ago.  The only reason you're still breathing is because you made certain assurances to us and my brother decided to let you do your job, but even he is starting to grow impatient.  That you've found our cousin will please him greatly.  And I am going to put you on hold."  Pressing the button, Neva stood up and stretched.  Then she wandered into the garden, in no big hurry to rush things along for Keel, but not wanting to linger with this news.  Her brother was even-tempered, and would disregard a rule if he saw the need for it, but he was not a man to openly cross.

   She found him working in a pocket of candy tuft and heliotrope, under a largish acacia.  "Carlos."

   "I don't want to be disturbed, not even by you, Neva."

   Quiet as the reprimand was, it was still painful.  But Neva tucked away her hurt.  Getting to the point she said, "Keel has found Teresa."

   This got Carlos' attention.  "Give me the phone."

   Neva handed it over, then moved away when Carlos signaled that he wanted some privacy.  Sitting on a bench, she watched as the conversation wore on.

   It was some ten minutes later when her brother turned his attention back to her.  He tossed her the phone then said, "You're meeting Keel in San Antonio day after next, so I suggest you pack and make arrangements."

   "What?"  Neva dared challenge her older brother by asking the question.

   "Tessa is in San Antonio.  Keel is on his way there now to locate her, but I don't want him bringing her back by himself.  He's a crude man, and enjoys having others fear him.  I want you to go down and take charge of Tessa.  Pay the man half of what we agreed on.  If he protests, remind him he took a year to complete the job.  If he doesn't see things our way, kill him."

   "But –"

   "Eschuca," Carlos broke in.  "Tess is being brought home to her family, not as a condemned prisoner.  I understand her reasons for leaving, but it's time for her to come home.  I will not have her frightened by the likes of Keel when she can have someone she knows there to make the transition easier for her.  Go."

   Neva turned on her heel and went back to the house, glad of nothing but the fact that there had been no one to overhear conversation between brother and sister.

************************************************************************

Tess woke with a gasp, soaked in sweat and trembling uncontrollably.  The moment air flooded her fear-starved lungs though, she regretted her haste.  Her throat was still sore from her attempted . . .

   Murder?  Tess shivered and pushed a tumble of hair out of her face.  What's wrong, Teresa?  Can't you admit that there's people out there who do not have your best interests at heart?

  I know that.  I know that.  I've known that since before I can remember, and my current situation – the very reason I'm in San Antonio – would seem to be proof of that.  It's just that no one has ever tried to do anything about it before.  Tess looked at the bedside alarm clock – 3:57.  Might as well stay up.  Her skin was clammy and cold.  A shower.  I'll take a shower.

   Going to wash that man right out of your hair? the voice asked slyly.

   I wasn't thinking about 'him.'  Whoever 'him' is this time.

   Sands.  The man who tried to kill you four nights ago.  Carlos.  Keel, or whoever's been sent after you.  Your father.  It doesn't really matter – they're all weighing heavily on your mind.

   Tess didn't bother replying.  She recognized the mood her voice was in – it was looking to pick a fight just to be argumentative.  No matter what she said or tried to justify, it'd argue with her.

   But her silence didn't help her cause.

   Shall we just start going down the list?

   No.  Tess closed the bathroom door behind her, making sure to lock it.  Reaching into the stall, she turned on the water, steam billowing up within seconds.

   Oh.  So you want to just identify the major threats then.  I suppose that makes sense.

   Tess tensed as she stepped into the shower, both from the anticipation of the hot water, and because she was sure the voice was going to start in on Sands again.  No, that's not what I –

   Let's start with your darling cousin Carlos, shall we?

   Tess hissed.  The water was hot, almost unbearably so on the wounded skin of her neck, but she had to sigh in relief all the same.  Carlos.  He was a problem she could wrap her mind around.  Sands was getting too unpredictable these days, what with how her body still hadn't had enough of him, and how he'd kept her from dying of strangulation, and how he'd taken care of her in the aftermath.  So, by all means, she'd rather focus on a upcoming problem than a current one.  What's your problem with Carlos?

  He's an unknown.  I've never met the man.  He was off getting his own training by the time I . . . was introduced on the scene.

   Way to be tactful.  Tess hadn't bothered to start washing yet.  It was enough to feel the water rinsing away her stress.

   Anyway, my point is, you don't even know Carlos anymore.  How old were you when he was sent away?  How old were you the last time you saw each other?

   I was eleven, and he was fifteen.  Tess remembered that very vividly.  Just the week before he'd been sent off – to a military school if she wasn't mistaken – she'd broken her arm after falling off a horse that was too spirited for her to control.  She, Ajedrez, Carlos, and his younger sister Neva had all been out riding.  It was a skill that was part of their 'classical education' that Barillo insisted they have.  She remembered how it'd happened when the cartel was based outside San Miguel; the landscape there was hotter and drier than it was closer to the coast.  They'd been out riding, and a snake had startled her mount.  It'd reared, she'd been thrown, and she could remember the sensation of feeling her radius snap.  Carlos had helped her back to the main house, encouraging her all the way, and finally handed her over to Guevera, who'd set the bone with impersonal hands.  She remembered crying silently as he'd applied a cast, and that Carlos had been waiting for her afterwards.  And he'd given her his handkerchief to dry her face before her father saw that she'd been crying, and then he'd given her a hug.  But the timing had been wrong and Barillo had caught them.  Tess didn't see anyone for the next ten days, and by the time she was allowed to leave her room, Carlos had been gone.  Needless to say, Neva – who was only a year younger than her brother and very close to him – had not been happy with her.  In fact –

   Are you listening to me, Teresa?

   Yes.

   Good.  So, are you willing to admit that you don't know your cousin, or at least the man he's become?  People change.  And military schools aren't known for making their students soft.  What else do you know about him?

   Intellectually she knew that, but she still had a hard time envisioning her cousin as anything but the distant but ultimately decent boy she remembered.  I heard at one point he was serving as an aide to a captain that reported directly to General Marquez.  And then I heard he was 'back in the fold,' handing some kind of 'rebellion' in the family's holdings in Zacatecas.  I caught a glimpse of him at my wedding . . . I think.  That entire day is hazy.  But the last I heard was he was second-in-command of security for the entire cartel, under Alejandro Juarez.  And of course, what the CIA's intelligence file had on him . . . not that I'm putting a lot of trust in that.  They didn't even know his real last name.

   I'm glad you realize that much.  And if you can remember that you're meeting a man you have no experience of, then you just might survive this.

   Thank you ever so much.  Tess climbed out of the shower and toweled off.  Once she was mostly dry, she slipped on her silk robe and went to the mirror, plugging in her hair dryer.  Might as well get ready for the day.  If you're done now –

   Oh no.  I've just started.  Next on the list is whoever's been sent for you.  Have you thought about how you're going to handle that?  I know you.  You're subconsciously expecting them to meet you somewhere and invite you to come with them.  We both know that it's more likely that they'll simply find you on the street and throw you into a car.

   As much as Tess hated to admit it, the voice was right again.  That was the most likely thing that would happen.

   Okay, so you're right.  It's likely I'll just be ripped off the street and thrown into a car and taken over the border as fast as four wheels or two wings can take me.  Getting out a brush, Tess started brushing her hair as she dried it.  And yes, I have no idea who's coming for me.  It might be Keel . . . but with as long as it's taken for him to find me, perhaps not.  Tess didn't want to believe that the one person who'd ever shown her kindness would be as ruthless as to kill someone for not completing a contract . . . but it was what a cartel leader would do.

   Unmindful of her thoughts, the voice continued.  And you're just going to go with them willingly?  Without struggle, or fuss, or dignity?  Like the obedient child you're pretending to be?

    That would be the general idea, yes, if I'm to get this over with so I can go home.

   Why go home?  It's not as if anyone there needs you.  Leave the kids to Cora, and stay with your family.  If you do what they ask, they'll treat you well enough, now that your father and half-sister are dead.  You'll never need anything.  You'll –

   No!  Tess was appalled at the idea of staying with her family . . . and by the fact that the lure wasn't as horrifying as it should be.  No.  I'm going to bring them down, to help make sure that they don't hurt anyone else with their drugs and their violence.  I –

   Of course, you'll need to prove yourself in some way first.  A show of goodwill and loyalty.  Which brings me to my next point.

   No.  I'm not listening to this.  Tess put down the hair dryer and started braiding her hair, arranging it in a thick braid down her back. 

   You know he's a danger.  A lose cannon.  He's probably come up with all sorts of contingency plans that get him out of Mexico safely if things go sour . . . but how many of those plans include you, do you think?

   Yes.  Excellent reasoning.  And a good idea.  Let's see . . . . Nurse the man back to health just to hand him over to certain death at the hands of my 'family.'  I'm not even technically related to any of those people!  They're connected to the Barillos through Ajedrez's mother.  How do I owe them my loyalty?  Glancing in the mirror, Tess spied her neck.  There was a red line, indicating where the cord had bitten into her skin, and surrounding that were sickly yellow and green bruises.  In another week or so, even the cut would be fading.  And may I remind you that he saved my life – and therefore yours – the other day?

   Then make up your mind, Teresa.  Conflicting loyalties will tear you to pieces faster than I and the rest of your screwed up mind will.  Either destroy your family or join them.  And if you join them, get rid of Sands.  You can't sit on the fence because both sides will eat you alive if you do.  The voice was cold and meticulous. 

   I've made a choice, Tess said, opening the door to leave the room.  They have to be stopped.

   That's nice.  And the other point you're being wishy-washy about?

   What point would that be?  Tess left the bathroom and immediately had to stifle a scream.  There was a man sitting in her living area, lazily smoking a cigarette, though he snuffed it out when she came into the room.  Sands!

   Exactly.  Where do you stand with him?  Is he just a guy you happened to have slept with once or twice, or is he the guy you want standing over you?

   He's my boss, she said, a lack of conviction in her tone.

   It's a little late for that, Tessa.

   "Los Armos"

   "Wha-"  Tess tried to ask the question, but a bout of coughing cut her off.  As she slowly tried to calm her irritated throat, she realized that her little internal debate had lasted no more than a few seconds.  When she had control again, she asked, "What?"

   "Los Armos.  Does the name mean anything to you?"

   "Other than 'the guns'?"  Tess shook her head, taking care to speak softly.  "No.  Should it?"

   "The man who tried to kill you the other day, he had a tattoo indicating he belonged to a gang named 'Los Armos.'  They're a street gang, mostly Latino boys, who are quickly becoming a major contender for the drug traffic in San Antonio.  Their territory happens to include the rehab center we stopped by the day of your attack, but I'm not sure that was the motivation for the attack.  It was too quick for retribution for that."  He reached over and turned on a tabletop lamp, gesturing for her to seat herself.  As she settled on the edge of a nearby arm chair, he continued, "Los Armos is supplied by a minor cartel that's trying to chip away at the territory around Salltio, which happens to on the eastern edge of your family's territory.  I say trying, because they haven't been anywhere near successful as of yet.  But whoever controls Salltio would control a majority of the trafficking here in San Antonio.  It's entirely possible that somehow they heard you were in town and alerted their boys.  And then when we went downtown, they –" he suddenly broke off as he noticed Tessa's eyes drooping.  Taking a moment to examine her more closely, he noticed the dark circles under her eyes, a clear indication that she hadn't been sleeping well for several days.  "What time did you wake up this morning, pequeña?"

   Tess shrugged.  "In a real dark night of the soul, it is always three o'clock in the morning."

   Sands took that mean very early indeed.  "And yesterday morning?"

   "Ummm . . . about the same time."  She grew a bit defensive when Sands did nothing but stare at her.  "I can't sleep, alright?"  It was one thing when her friends worried about her sleeping habits – not that she thought he was worried, per se – but she certainly didn't need him nagging her to get enough sleep.

   Realizing this, and not particularly caring, Sands smirked.  "And why's that?  Not used to an empty bed?"

   Tess glared.  "I think you know what it's like to try to sleep after nearly dying, señor.  I won't point out the obvious reasons for that."

   Sands shrugged and tilted his head, as if conceding she had a point but was unwilling to admit it aloud.  "Tired Nature's sweet restorer; balmy sleep."  He sighed, and the look on his face indicated that he was impatient, but still willing to deal with roadblocks.  "I suggest you get to bed now.  I'm going to need you at the top of your game and it won't happen if you're dozing off during briefings."

   "That's very kind of you, Sands, but I don't believe I need to listen to you in the matters of personal health.  Not to mention that it won't matter if I do go to bed, because I can't sleep.  Every time I start to drift off, I panic, because you're completely vulnerable when you're asleep."

   "Relax.  I've got some things to work on.  You snooze."

   Tess stared at him in disbelief for several seconds before sarcastically commenting, "Oh, so you're my bodyguard now."  Shaking her head, she said, "Thank you, but no.  Your presence doesn't exactly inspire me to sleep."  When the smirk on Sands' face grew, she rephrased what she'd just said.  "You make me too nervous to sleep."

   Ok.  This is getting ridiculous.  "It didn't look that way just a few minutes ago, niña.  A few minutes ago, you were falling asleep before my very eyes.  And I seem to remember several instances when you were able to sleep with me around."

   "Yes, but you were –" Blind.  Safer.  "We weren't –"  Sleeping together.  Flustered, Tess snapped, "That was different and you know it, Sands.  Things were a lot more uncomplicated then."

   Someone has a strange definition of 'uncomplicated.'  "You're asleep on your feet and a danger to me and yourself.  Now, go get in bed and take a nap.  I'll wake you by nine if you're not awake already."  He came over and took her arm, noticing how she stiffened at his touch.  "Sleep then talk.  I have a few things to go over with you still before I turn you loose to get yourself captured."

   Tess sighed, facing up to the obvious fact that she didn't really have a choice in this.  Either she slept, or Sands would grouse and carp at her for the rest of the day.  Even dream-plagued unconsciousness was preferable to that.

   "Fine," she murmured, laying down and pulling the blankets over her again.  She'd just realized that she wasn't wearing anything more substantial than a robe, and she didn't trust Sands around her while she was in it.  Or more to the point, she didn't trust herself around Sands while in it.  It was true that he wasn't making any advances, but there was a purely masculine look in his eye that told her he wouldn't turn down her advances either.  I doubt he even knows it's there, she thought, curling around a pillow.  And I'm certainly not going to point it out.  Not until he doesn't confuse me so badly anymore.  Because in my state, I'll take any comfort I can get . . . even false comfort and simulated love.

   With these uplifting thoughts, Tess dropped off, her body demanding some sort of break from her sleepless nights and preoccupied mind.

   Sands watched from nearby as she fell asleep, her breaths soon growing deep and even.  Once he was sure that she was as soundly asleep as was possible, he moved away, letting out a pent-up breath.  He'd seen the interest that'd sparked in her eye, even if she hadn't been aware of it.  And as much as he wouldn't mind taking her up on her offer, he had been serious about needed her in top shape.

   Top shape for what?  For you to bed her?  Downright gentlemanly of you.

   That's not what I meant.  At least not directly.  Think about it.  Would all her friends have gotten so worked up if nothing happened when she didn't get enough sleep?  The last thing this operation needs for another thing to go wrong before we even really get started.  And a schizophrenic episode would definitely be something going wrong.

   Sitting down at the table, Sands pulled the stack of files that he'd set in the center of it towards him.  Glancing briefly at the tabs – Los Armos; Velasquez; Barillo, Armando; Barillo, Teresa – he grabbed the one with Tessa's name on it and started reading, quickly opening up the one for her cousin as well.  As he set and read, he took mental notes, trying to figure out what the dynamics between the two cousins would be and how he was going to be able to affect them.  To all reports, Carlos Velasquez was a charismatic man, able to manipulate people easily.  And while he hadn't heard Tess express any fondness for the man, he hadn't heard her disparage him either as she had the rest of her family.  If he didn't want to loose and operative, he was going to have to know what sort of things to do and say to keep her on her guard.

   It was more than an hour later when he looked up again.  He'd been deep in dissecting the possible moves that the cartel could be making to take over more territory when a series of low whimpers had broken his concentration.  Rubbing at eyes that burned from not having changed contacts recently, Sands looked towards the bed.  The sounds had stopped, but Tessa looked anything but peaceful.  She was lying in the bed with the blankets pulled tight around her body, so he couldn't actually see any of her body, but there was something about the way she was holding herself that made it seem as if she were tense.  After a few seconds of uninterrupted observation, Sands simply shrugged and went back to his files . . . only to be interrupted once again.

   // No.  Estancia lejos.  No confianza del usted.  Apenas satisfágame, deje ir.\\  No.  Stay away.  I don't trust you.  Just please, let me go.  She was silent for a moment, then another whimper broke free as her shoulders hunched.  And after that, her dream apparently exploded into action.  "NO!" she screamed, her limbs trying to break free of the clingy embrace of the blankets.  She only tangled in them farther, and her desperation only increased.

   Having heard enough, Sands got up from the couch and went into the sleeping area.  Hovering over Tess, he put a hand on her shoulder and shook her – not harshly or gently, but uncompromisingly.  The moment he touched her, her eyes shot open and she tried to throw herself away from him, but since she was so tightly wrapped in the blankets, she only rolled a few feet away.

   But apparently this space was enough.  Tess sat up, staring around her wildly for a moment as she tried to catch her breath.  She locked eyes with Sands for a few seconds before shaking her head and closing her eyes, resting her forehead on drawn up legs.

   Sands let her be for several minutes while she gathered herself before asking, "Want to tell me what that was all about?"

   Tess shook her head, but in confusion, not denial.  "The world is changed," she whispered, almost to herself.  "I feel it in the water.  I feel it in the earth.  I smell it in the air.  Much that once was, is lost, for none now live who remember it."

   Sands didn't say anything, merely crossed his arms and leaned against the headboard of the bed, waiting for her to continue.  He didn't have to wait long.

   "They're coming.  I can feel it.  They're close."

********************************************

An hour later Sands had left and Tess wearily closed the door behind him.  Her head was filled with information and final instructions.  After today, she wouldn't hear from Sands again until she was in place in Culíacan.  If that was where Carlos was still based; it was to the best of the CIA's knowledge.

   Tess didn't trust them.

   Sighing, she turned back to the room, deciding it was best to get dressed.  Now that she was alone without Sands' overbearing voice filling the room, she found her mind drifting back to the dream that woken her.  At least Sands managed to do something for me.  I didn't dream about being killed.  No.  Not this time.  This time she'd dreamt about being caught in this little scam by her family.  They'd tried to convince her that they didn't want to punish her for it . . . but then they'd brought out Sands.  And then they'd both had a gun in her hand, and she'd known that she was going to shoot him, and that knowledge had nearly destroyed her.  But before the dream could end, Sands had woken her, leaving her filled with the overwhelming sensation that this was going to go down today.  And that as long as they were involved – either in business or . . . or pleasure – then they were a danger to each other.

   Not that he was going to listen to the emotion premonitions of an overwrought insane woman, she thought bitterly, dressing in slacks, a short-sleeved turtleneck shirt, and a bright turquoise blue suit jacket.  Carefully she arranged the silver locket on it's delicate chain so that it was outside her shirt.  Wearing the thing had become second nature in the five days since her attack.  She didn't like that Sands could listen in on her one-sided muttered conversations with the psychological fragment in her head, but that was life.  There was a lot going on lately that she didn't like.

   Sitting at the room's desk, Tess opened up her laptop and started writing e-mails to her adopted housemates.  Most of the current situation had been explained to him, and so her to him included a request that he look out for his younger siblings while she was away and to help Cora around the house.  The woman had moved in her Tessa's absence, and she only hoped that she wasn't being overwhelmed.  But Tess knew how much the other woman loved being with the kids . . . and none of her phone calls or e-mails had mentioned any problems . . . .

   Just another bit of evidence proving that you don't have to come back to the States.

   I don't like the heat.  And it never gets cold in Mexico unless you're in the desert, and I don't like how dry it gets there.

   Whine about it some more, why don't you.

   Tess focused on her computer screen.  She wrote a note to Alma, telling the girl to remember to work on her math homework and to ask for help when she needed it.  Tess also reminded her not to fight with Marcos.  In the months before she'd left, Tess had noticed that more fights than usual were occurring between the two siblings.  She thought it might be  an oldest brother vs. oldest sister power struggle, but, she hadn't been around lately to talk to either of them. 

   René got a warning not to play any practical jokes while she wasn't around.  The boy had made friends with the neighborhood rascal, and the two had been inseparable ever since.  Their tricks didn't cause damage, and they hadn't hurt anyone – yet – but Tess knew just how quickly things could escalate out of control, especially as winter drug on in the far north and pent up energy started demanding new ways to be released.

   Selena was too young for notes, but Tess had sent several picture books home last week, and hopefully that would make do.  There had also been gifts included for the other children – trinket jewelry and interesting novelty toys – and Tess hoped that would offset any jealousy over their sister's larger gift.

   Cora got a longer message.  Tess reiterated all the instructions, directions, and cautions that she'd said before she left.  Bank account numbers to pay bills and run the household, phone numbers of neighbors, where extra cash was in case of an emergency, and the number of her lawyer.  One of the last things Tess had done before leaving New York had been revising her will and leaving letters for each of the children and Cora with the man just in case things did not run as smoothly in Mexico as the government promised.

   Having sent off her last correspondence for some time, Tess sat for several minutes and started at the blank screen of her computer, not even noticing when the screensaver came on.

   Are you going to sit here forever and be bored out of your mind just to avoid going outside?

   I'd like to.

   Coward.

   Cautious.

   It's a job that's never started that takes the longest to finish.

   Little by little, one travels far.

   Then get your butt in gear.  Either they're waiting for you outside, or they're not.  You're not going to find anything out by sitting here.  Well, nothing other than how long you can sit here without Sands coming in and dragging you down to the street and throwing you into a south bound car himself.

Advice is a dangerous gift, even from the wise to the wise, and all courses may run ill.  But despite this retort, Tess wearily got up from her seat, turned off her computer, and closed it.  Looking around she grabbed her shoulder bag and put her laptop inside it.  There was nothing else she could take with her without it looking as if she were expecting a sudden departure, so Tess took a deep breath and left her room.

********************************************

It was nearing three o'clock in the afternoon when Tess exited one of the more upscale shops in San Antonio's more upscale shopping district.  The hours had dragged by slowly as she'd gotten more and more tense.  Just because you're paranoid, doesn't mean everyone isn't out to get you.  She couldn't shake the feeling of being watched constantly, and while she knew it could simply be her paranoia acting up, she didn't think it was.  But if something didn't happen soon, she was going to snap.

   She was preparing to cross the street at a crosswalk when she heard the squeal of breaks that had suddenly had too much demanded of them.  Immediately on guard, she kept walking, trying not to act as if she were expecting anything.  She heard two car doors open, and several sets of running footsteps.  It might not be anything.  It might just be the police trying to catch someone.  It might not have anything to do with me –  Before she could finish the thought, a hand on her elbow twirled her around, and another on her shoulder steadied her.  With wide eyes she saw a man with a gun inconspicuously held on her – Keel, her stunned mind told her – and a woman, about her own height.  Before she could ask who the woman was, the question was answered for her.

   //¿Qué?  ¿Ningún abrazo para un prima perdido largo?\\ the woman asked sarcastically.

   "I'm sorry, I don't usually hug strangers on the street."  Then looking closer at the woman, Tess asked, "Neva?"

   "Oh.  You do remember.  I'm honored."  Tess couldn't help but shiver as her cousin's tone reminded her of Ajedrez.  She'd had that lazily superior drawl as well.

   With a insistent hand, Neva led Tess to the car and made her get in.  Closing the door after her – Keel got in the front seat of the Cadillac sedan – her cousin started, "Well, you've certainly led us on a merry chase.  Care to explain yourself?"

   Deliberately pulling up her mask of professionalism, Tess asked in a cool voice, "Were you instructed to interrogate me?  Because if you weren't, I don't see that I owe you any answers."

   Still the stuck up brat I see.  "No.  I suppose you don't owe me any answers.  But I'd be thinking very hard about what your explanation is going to be, prima.  Carlos is going to be expecting answers."

   And with that ominous threat, the ride to the airport was completed in silence.

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Quotes:  Yay!  They've come back.  South Pacific; F. Scott Fitzgerald; Edward Young; Lord of the Rings; Tolkien.

And again, if you have any quotes you'd like to send me, I'd love to get them.  ; )

Author's Thanks:

C.J Davis (Heh.  Yeah, I thought it'd be a good twist to throw in.  You see a lot of stories where the heroine gets hurt, the hero rescues her, and then she breaks down in the shelter of his 'strong, manly arms.'  I wanted to do a scene like that . . . but keep everyone in character.  And I think I managed that.  And I agree with the annoying voice.  I know I've got one.  I saw a Johnny Depp interview over 'Secret Window' and he said that we've all got that voice, but if we talk out loud to it, then we'd be thrown in a rubber room.  ;)  I agreed with that.); Dreamgirl21147 (Why do I end with cliffies?  Either I run out of material, or I think it'll be easier to pick up again if I end there.  Or sometimes it's just that the chapter would end up being 20 pages long if I didn't end there.); normal human being (Thanks.  I was a little unsure if I was managing the emotion of the 'death scene.'  It was awkward for me to write, but it definitely came out better than it originally started as.  And yes, isn't the side project fun?  Merrie and I are certainly having fun.); nimwin (I tried to get it out quickly . . . and this is what you got.  I hope it was worth the wait.); nebber (I am trying to make this plot move along a little faster than the one in 'Eyes'.  It helps that I've already developed the characters and all that.); Kontara (Yeah.  Those voices are trouble.  They've been stealing my attention from this.  But I'm dedicated to finishing it.); Roux (Thanks for the compliments.  If you love Sands, yet want to kick him in the head, then I must be writing him well.  ^_^); Ashley (Sorry!  I should have e-mailed.  Every time I remember though, I've already turned off my computer.  I've got to work on that whole memory thing.   As for the relationship between Sands and Tess . . . well, it's moving in that direction.  That would be my final goal, but I want them to be realistically stubborn about it.); Pixy (thank you.  Hope you feel the same about this chapter.); cucumber (Well, I'm living in Washington, but I'm originally from Oregon.  I'm living with an aunt and uncle in the Seattle area.  I'm glad you thought the chapter was well written.  Hope this one lives up to the last.); Nefarious Coda (I'd like to go to Mexico.  *sigh*  Action sequences are tough.  I'm really not the action movie type, so it's not something I've seen or read a lot of.  It was pretty short and cut and dried at first, but I revised, and I'm glad to see that it got better.  Also glad I've got Sands in character still.  The subplot?  Well, I wanted some real life in there.  And I realized I wasn't including any of the worry Tess would have for her family, so I put it in.  Life is conflict, and I decided I needed that in here to make the story better.); Carlses (Gotta love the quotes.  I'm glad you see Tess in that light, because that's what I want her to be.  She's a woman in a situation and circumstances that she doesn't like, and all she wants is to be left alone to live her life as normally as she can.  But she's also smart enough to know that she needs to deal with life as it comes to her.  Always on the lookout for quotes, so feel free to send them.)