Page 75 of Bitter Spirits

He studied her face, taking in the fine lines bracketing her mouth and the grim, resolute light in her eyes. “Okay. Then let’s get this done.”

Together, they walked up to the porch and around the corner to the door, where a list of business hours was posted. Knowing he wouldn’t be able to shield her from much, Locke still took the lead, opening the door and stepping inside. A long counter divided the space, leaving the office on one side and the reception on the other. The ends of the counter stopped short of the walls, creating walkways to reach the different spaces. An open door in the back wall led farther back.

A statuesque woman with sleek, silver-threaded dark hair rose from a desk behind the counter. The welcoming smile on her face cooled when Isa followed Locke in. “Isa.”

“Pilar.”

The older woman’s attention shifted to him, and her voice warmed fractionally. “Good afternoon.”

He inclined his head. “Afternoon.”

Now that pleasantries had been exchanged, Pilar’s attention returned to Isa. “Why are you here?”

“Angel’s in trouble.”

Locke wasn’t quite sure where Isa was going with this, but he waited for his cue.

Pilar’s flicker of concern was replaced by a sneer of disbelief. “And you’re—what? Trying to help?”

Like a queen, Isa inclined her head and calmly said, “I am.”

Pilar’s eyes narrowed as heat licked along her voice. “Like you ‘helped’ last time?”

The air around Isa tightened, as did her body, but her voice remained level. “This is nothing like last time. One of Angel’s… employees is going after him. We need to find Angel before he does.”

The older woman folded her arms. “I’m not sure Angel needs your help.”

Isa didn’t outwardly react, but Locke swore he felt her flinch. Done with the cat-and-mouse game, he curled a finger around hers in silent support and stepped in. “He needs all the help he can get.”

Dark eyes sharp with suspicion and arrogance turned to him. “Who are you?”

“Locke Turon. I work for the Cordova Family.”

Alarm ignited along the stubborn lines of Pilar’s face, but it was squashed quickly, replaced by quiet defiance. “What interest does the Cordova Family have with my Angel?”

Isa’s fingers tightened in warning, so he went on the offensive. “Your Angel?”

Pilar’s gaze flicked to Isa before returning to him, this time carrying a hint of wariness. Her self-protective instincts were intact. “Did she not tell you? Angel is my son.” She swallowed and stubbornly held her ground. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Not wanting to escalate the situation, he angled his head and lied through his pearly whites. “The Family isn’t interested in Angel. We want the employee.”

Pilar turned to Isa, anger threading through her voice as she all but hissed, “¿Ahora trabajas par las Families?”

Isa’s finger tightened painfully on his. “I —”

“I shouldn’t be surprised,” Pilar snapped.

He was seriously not liking this woman or her attitude. He let Isa go and moved in front of her, gaining Pilar’s full attention. Her mutinous expression faltered. She might not hold any respect for the families, but she did fear them, and he could work with that.

“Isa agreed to help only after finding out that Angel was the target,” he said, not tempering his icy tone.

She looked to Isa. “¿Es verdad?”

Isa held her gaze and dipped her chin.

Pilar folded her arms and turned back to him. “I don’t know where Angel is.”

Even if she did, it was clear from her tone she wouldn’t be inclined to share.