Camila took her hand and smiled. When her attention skirted to Gray, he accepted her palm and held on to it a bit longer than necessary.
Stunned into silence, huh? Sydney stole a look behind her to see Carter exiting the house.
“Camila,” Carter said while heading for them. He pulled her in for a hug, which was something Sydney rarely ever saw the man do.
“Camila’s like a kid sister to me, so when I say you can trust her, you can,” Carter said once he’d freed himself from the hug.
“And he’s like an overprotective brother who usually finds himself needing more help than he can provide me,” Camila teased, and Sydney loved this woman already.
“Everyone’s inside.” Carter motioned to the house. He began speaking fluently in Portuguese, one of the languages Sydney didn’t speak, so she walked in silence alongside Gray.
“Thank you again for helping us out on such short notice,” Carter said once they were inside the two-story brick house.
“You’re lucky I was already here working my own case,” Camila commented.
“Yeah, lucky us,” Sydney said, trailing behind them.
Chills covered her arms as she thought about the last thirty-six hours and how they all managed to be together there in Chile.
“This is my friend, Camila Hart,” Carter introduced her to everyone once they were all in the living room. The large space just off the foyer only had a few couches, but it did have a fully stocked bar.
Camila individually greeted the others, learning their names, and then she went over to the bar and poured herself a top-shelf scotch.
Yeah, a friend of Carter’s for sure.
“My mother and his dad dated in college in Brazil forever ago. They remained friends after that, even when marrying other people,” Camila revealed, her accent still noticeable but not quite as heavy as Valentina’s when speaking English. It was just as sexy in Sydney’s mind. “Anyhow . . .” She faced the room. “I didn’t realize our cases were connected until the men you asked me to follow checked into the same hotel as the man I’m following.”
Her announcement had Sydney nearly faltering in surprise. “Wait,” Sydney whispered in shock. “What?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Camila’s dark espresso-brown eyes narrowed as she looked Beckett’s way. And yeah, no way would Sydney be able to handle this gorgeous woman alone with him.
He’s not mine. Ugh, he’s also not Seth. Beckett wouldn’t sleep with her. Why am I thinking about this?
“Carter mentioned your ex-wife is in danger,” Camila said to Beckett.
“We weren’t married,” Beckett quickly informed her. “But yes, it’s safe to assume she’s in danger. Or worse.”
Dead. Goose bumps danced across her skin like memories of a nightmare. The kind that had her body trembling. She hated Seth. But dead? No, she couldn’t handle that news.
Camila finally withdrew her attention from Beckett and focused back on Carter. Was she going to explain how their cases were connected? She was as mysterious as Carter.
“Carter only mentioned the cartel to me over the phone,” she shared while lifting her glass in his direction. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re here for Jorge Rojas too?”
Sydney stepped forward, nearly lining herself up with Beckett.
“Jorge appears to be the common denominator between our two cases,” Camila said. “I’m a private investigator, and I was hired to find the man or woman who murdered a Brazilian scientist. I managed to track down the main suspect to Santiago two days ago. He’s staying at the same hotel as the cartel men you’re after.”
“Go on,” Carter urged, his arms tight across his white dress shirt.
“My suspect met with Jorge at the hotel yesterday. And now your men are at the same hotel the week of Jorge’s party this Friday. I’d planned to surveil Jorge’s house tonight, and then you called in the favor.” Camila set her glass on the bar before focusing on the room again. “But that’s not the only reason I believe our cases are connected.”
“You’re a great storyteller,” Mya chimed in, and Sydney looked back to see Oliver shaking his head. “What? I love a good story.”
“Ignore her,” Oliver grumbled, oblivious to the eye daggers Mya was sending his way. “Go on.”
“Before my client’s husband was murdered, he was working on an experimental drug. A drug that, in the wrong hands, could be used in nefarious ways. The suspect I’ve been tracking is also a scientist who worked at the same lab, and I believe he killed my client’s husband for the formula.”
“And you’re thinking he did this for Jorge?” Gray asked. “Why would Jorge care about a pill? That’s not his thing, or am I missing something?”
Carter went to the bar this time and snatched the scotch. His taut back muscles flexed as he poured himself a drink. “Your suspect needed funding for his lab after he killed the other scientist, so he went to Jorge. In exchange for funding, your guy had to share a secret. I’m guessing murder qualifies,” Carter theorized.
“That’s what I’m thinking, yes,” Camila said as Carter faced the room. “I didn’t realize this until my suspect and Jorge met.” She peered around the room, her gaze landing on Gray last, and she kept her eyes locked his way as she added, “But what if Jorge decided to change things up from his normal MO?”
“Instead of bartering a favor for a secret this time, he just wants the formula for himself?” Gray clarified, and Sydney stole a look at him to see his brows slanting as if suddenly making sense of why.
“The cartel,” Sydney whispered when it clicked. “Jorge wants the club, Capone, but it’s not like the cartel is hard up for cash and needs to sell it just to appease some billionaire.” She shifted to the side, catching Beckett’s eyes in the process. “Jorge would need to entice them with more than just money. What if he’s offering the Sinaloas a new drug in exchange for the place?”
“Why would Jorge want a club?” Camila’s brows climbed, clearly unaware of the type of club it was in Mexico. “He’s rich. He could build his own place.”
“Because he’s obsessed with Al Capone and all things nineteen-twenties,” Gray told her. “And Capone visited there during Prohibition. There’s an old black-and-white photo of him posing with the then-owner outside. And the cartel turned it into a tourist hotspot with a nineteen-twenties theme.”
“Ah, yes, I’ve seen Jorge’s estate.” Camila nodded.
“So, you think he’ll use the scientist’s formula to get what he wants?” Gray crossed the living room to where she stood.
“I think it’s possible, which is why he has everyone staying at the same hotel. He’s arranging a deal that works for all of them,” Carter suggested. “Jorge has a reputation to maintain, after all. He’ll stop being known as The Guarded One if he sells out a client that didn’t break a deal with him.”
“Jorge has a table reserved at the hotel’s club Wednesday night. I guess this is also why he chose that hotel. Wednesday night is—”