He glanced out the window into the darkness. A muscle worked in his jaw. He sighed. “You’re right. You have to go.” He turned away from her and started for the door. “I’ll be right back. I need to find out how this envelope got into the room.”

Gage stormed outside, heading for the office. The manager lived in quarters behind it.

Abby read the letter two more times. The paper was a crisp linen texture and looked expensive, and the handwriting was elegant, yet strong.

Gage walked back into the room. “The manager put the letter in the room. I’m sure he was paid well to do it. The man who delivered it said it was urgent.”

“If it’s true, it is urgent.”

“If it’s true.”

“I have to go, Gage. I couldn’t live with myself if King were still alive and I did nothing to help him.”

Gage scrubbed a hand over his face. Seconds passed before he nodded. “All right, we comply with the letter, go to the address in Mérida—but we do it prepared. We set things up our way, go in and find out what’s going on, but we’re armed. And we’re ready to get out of there if we need to.”

Abby started nodding. “Okay, that sounds good.”

“And we take backup. Edge, Trace, and Skye. They’re good at what they do, and we need their help.” Gage reached out and tipped up her chin, bent his head, and gently kissed her.

“You scared the hell out of me when you fell in that hole today,” he said. “Now it looks like things could get worse. I never should have brought you down here.”

“I would have come without you.”

He made no reply.

“I’m glad it’s you,” she said. “I’m glad you’re with me.” She managed to smile. “We’ll do this together, just like everything else.”

Something moved across his features, something warm and oddly tender. Then it was gone. “You can’t get your hopes up, Abby.”

“I won’t,” she said.

But it was a lie, and both of them knew it.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

THERE WAS A NUMBER ON THE LETTER. GAGE MADE THE CALL ON his satellite phone instead of his cell. The people on the other end already knew their location, but there was no way to know how many others were out there tracking them.

The line picked up, but there was only silence.

“This is Gage Logan. I assume you’ve been expecting our call.”

“Señor Logan,” a male voice said. “I look forward to meeting you. However, the message was left for Abigail. Please put her on the phone.” The words were spoken in English, the Spanish accent mild. The voice sounded educated, cultured, but rang with authority.