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I roll my eyes before doing the same thing Brady just did.
There's another brief silence, and then the gate clicks and slowly begins to open.
"I'll meet you at the door," the woman says softly, resignation heavy in her voice.
Brady and I wait until the gate fully opens and then step through. We keep our eyes peeled, watching for movement…for any signs that we're about to be ambushed. We make it to the door as a woman pulls it open, her long brown hair piled into a bun on top of her head. She's beautiful, elegant, with glowing olive skin and big, brown eyes. A simple black robe is cinched tight around her waist, stretching across her pregnant belly. It skims her wide hips, ending at her knees.
Her gaze hones in on our badges and flickers across them before she meets my gaze and then Brady's. She purses her lips like she isn't sure what to make of us. Her wary, unsurprised look makes it clear that she knows why we're here, though.
"Come in," she says quietly, holding the door open for us.
"Miss Ortega, I presume?" I step inside, quickly scanning the residence, but the foyer and living room beyond are empty. If there's anyone else inside, they're quiet and staying out of sight. Heavy oak furniture rests on porcelain tile, shining brightly in the early morning light. The house is nice and clean…not unexpected given the area, but still surprising.
How the fuck did someone who lives like this get mixed up with someone like Jose Guerrero?
"Yes. How can I help you?" she asks, crossing her arms over her chest and tilting her head back to look up at me. Something like recognition flickers through her eyes before she quickly schools her expression. She knows exactly who I am, I think.
"We're here about Jose Guerrero."
She tenses when I say his name before relaxing again. Her gaze darts away and then right back to mine.
"You're pregnant with his kid," Brady states.
She doesn't deny it.
"Do you know where he is?"
"I…No." She shakes her head.
Brady glances at me. He doesn't say anything or change his expression, but I've worked with him for so long I can read him as easily as he reads me, and his bullshit meter is going off too. She may not know exactly where Guerrero is, but she knows enough. She knows how to contact him.
I watch her for a minute, taking in the way she clenches her hands tightly, trying to hide the way they tremble and shake.
"How far along are you?" I ask her, my voice quiet, conversational. I don't want to scare her any more than she already is, but she should be afraid. Hell, she should be terrified. She should run as far and fast as possible and not look back.
"Four and a half months," she whispers.
"He tried to kill my girl. Had his people burn down my house with her inside."
"Why…" She licks her lips. "Why are you telling me this, Agent Gregory?"
"My girl is pregnant, too. Because of your man, she's terrified that our baby might not make it." I jerk my chin at Brady. "One of Guerrero's people held a gun to his two-year-old son's head. They've been killing people all over this city for weeks, and it's only going to get worse. I think you know that."
She doesn't say anything, but recognition flares in her eyes again. She knows I'm right.
"I also think you know that being with Guerrero put a target on your back. Because of his little war, if anyone finds out about you, they'll come for you and they'll come for your baby."
"Like you have?" she asks, squaring her jaw.
"We didn't come to kill you," I tell her, holding my hands up, palms outward. "We aren't Guerrero. We aren't his men. We don't hurt innocent women."
"What do you want?"
"Guerrero," Brady says. "We want Guerrero."
She says nothing.
I watch her closely, noting the little chinks in her armor, the way she clenches her jaw to keep her bottom lip from trembling, and the way she keeps her hands in fists to hide the way they shake. Both are little signs that let me know she's not nearly as brave as she wants us to think.
