Soldier for Hire

by Kimberly Van Meter

  “I don’t hang with journalists so I couldn’t say one way or another. I think it’s safe to say you’re taking a risk. If she’s as broke as you say she is, if she finds out about the bounty on your head, she might double-cross you, screwing us both.”

  “There’s a bounty?” Xander seemed impressed. “Yeah? How much? Maybe I’ll turn myself in.”

  Scarlett laughed. “Ten-thousand dollars.”

  Xander balked. “Are you kidding me? I’m worth way more than that.”

  Amused, Scarlett agreed but added, “By my way of thinking, they can’t put a huge bounty on your head without raising questions. So if you’re right and you are being framed, whoever’s pulling the strings is going to do whatever they have to to keep this quiet and that includes flying under the radar.”

  Xander saw Scarlett’s logic but knowing he’d been stuck with a bargain basement sticker wasn’t a nice feeling. “I’m still insulted.”

  Scarlett rolled her eyes at his ego. “Get over yourself. It’s not about the money. Do you have a backup plan in case this reporter double-crosses you? What if we get there and the place is surrounded with cops and FBI?”

  “Ye of little faith. Do you really think I would walk into an ambush? Please. I’m the one who suggested the location.”

  “You said she picked the place,” Scarlett said with a scowl.

  “She did, but I may have made a suggestion as to why it was a good idea that may have tipped the scales.”

  “And the reason you picked this place?”

  “It’s a good defensible space, plus there is excellent line of sight from the south side, which is where we’re meeting.”

  Was that admiration in her eyes? God, he hoped he wasn’t wrong about this meeting. A part of him worried that the reporter was sharper than he figured. His saving grace was that his mug likely hadn’t been released just yet to the general public so only law enforcement and government agencies would have his information.

  Hopefully, luck was on his side—that would be a welcome change.

  “So what conspiracy did you dangle in front of this reporter?” Scarlett asked, curious.

  “I was really just being vague and took a chance on what most politicians are hiding—sexual misconduct. I must’ve said the right thing because judging by the change in her tone, I’m pretty sure her eyes lit up like a Christmas day parade at the juicy prospect. To be honest, I’m kinda curious as to what information she’s bringing.”

  “Sexual misconduct,” Scarlett chuckled, equally amused. “At this point, I think people expect politicians to have skeletons and half the fun is wondering when those bones are going to rattle and give them away.”

  “True enough.” He really didn’t care about McQuarry’s sexual misdeeds; he just wanted information that might give him a direction. Someone had wanted McQuarry dead and they’d been willing to go to great lengths to see it happen. Digging into McQuarry’s secrets was the best way Xander could think of to find who might benefit the most from McQuarry’s death.

  Finally, the abandoned school came into view and it was creepy as shit.

  He caught Scarlett’s look and nodded, silently agreeing that this was the kind of place where souls went to die. If he were the sort who believed in ghosts, Dearborn Reformatory could serve as the poster child for a place to avoid if you didn’t want to die a grisly death.

  “This place gives me the creeps,” Scarlett announced after a good solid perusal. “What was this?”

  “Believe it or not, a school for Native American kids. Specifically, Cheyenne and Arapaho because back in the 1900s it was considered bad form for Indian kids to speak their native language. The kids were sent here for assimilation into society, even going so far as punishing them for trying to hold on to any part of their culture.”

  “That’s barbaric,” Scarlett murmured, taking in the desolation of the abandoned place. “No wonder this place gives off a bad vibe.”

  “Yeah, not exactly the nicest place to send kids. They must’ve been terrified,” Xander agreed but a car was coming toward them, cutting short their history lesson.

  Instantly on alert, Scarlett faded into the background to provide cover should things go south as well as protect her identity and involvement.

  A short woman with a spiky blond haircut exited the dirt-covered sedan and began to make her way toward the entrance to the school, tentatively calling out, “Mr. Jones? Are you here?”

  Xander could practically feel Scarlett’s derision at his obviously fake name but he’d been pressed for time and couldn’t get creative.

  She stepped over the threshold of the building and finally saw Xander. “Oh! There you are. I was starting to think you might’ve changed your mind.”

  “Not me. I’m here for the juicy details.”

  The woman tittered, glancing around to ask tentatively, “Did you bring the money?”

  Xander fished out the cash-stuffed envelope and handed it to her. She paused, tempted to count the money but then must’ve decided Xander looked trust-worthy enough and stuffed the money into her purse. “I’ve never done anything like this, just so you know. I’m a reporter with integrity. I’ve never in my life given out information like this. I believe in journalistic integrity. It’s very important to me.”

  The fact that she was repeating herself was proof enough that she wasn’t experienced but that worked in Xander’s favor. If she wasn’t in a habit of selling information, then it was likely her intel, to the best of her knowledge, would be legit.

  Xander nodded as if he cared and then said, “Tell me about McQuarry’s dark secrets.”

  “It feels wrong to speak ill of the dead, especially in this place. Do you believe in ghosts, Mr. Jones?”

  “Uh, no,” Xander answered, trying to steer the conversation back to McQuarry. “What was in his closet?”

  The woman glanced around as if afraid the senator’s ghost was going to pop out from behind the wreck and ruin of the former school and steal her soul, but she answered in a hushed tone, “I have it on pretty good authority that Senator McQuarry was having an affair with a young intern.”

  On the surface, the intel was meh. What politician didn’t dip their wick in the company inkwell? But seeing as McQuarry was running on a family values platform, that could prove to be useful information. “Got a name?”

  “Again, this isn’t substantiated but the rumor was that Lana Holbert was putting in more than just after-hours support for the senator. McQuarry always made provisions for her travel and she was always in his company.”

  “But as his intern...wasn’t that part of her job?”

  “Trust me—she was doing more than file paperwork. I have a witness who swears he caught her under McQuarry’s desk late one night when everyone else had left the building. I’ll give you two guesses as to what Miss Holbert was doing under that desk and the first guess doesn’t count.”

  Xander could put two and two together. “Okay, assuming it’s true that McQuarry and his intern were doing the nasty after hours... So what? That’s not enough to want a man dead. Especially in the way that McQuarry went down. I mean, the man was blown to bits.”

  The woman shuddered. “Yeah, it was awful. His family must be devastated. No matter the man’s faults, someone still loved him. He was a family man—married to the same woman for twenty-five years with three kids—I’m sure they’re grieving.”

  Xander nodded. Jealous wife, maybe? But then what would that have to do with him?

  Then it occurred to him, “If Holbert was always around McQuarry, why wasn’t she killed in the bombing?”

  “According to reports, she was sick that day. Caught that terrible flu that’d been going around. Who knew the flu would save her life?”

  Yeah, sure. Or maybe she’d been tipped off that something was going down and she ought to make herself scarce. He made a m
ental note to track down Lana Holbert for some questions of his own. “You got anything else for me?” he asked.

  “I don’t know if you know much about McQuarry but he was a real piece of work. He was all smiles, hug-the-babies and shake hands when he was on stage but behind closed doors...he was a pervert.”

  “First-hand knowledge?”

  “Yeah, he tried to grab my ass during an interview. I got out of there as fast as I could. I couldn’t believe he would try something so blatant. I mean, he’s a freaking senator with a reputation to protect, but he didn’t seem to care. Actually, he seemed pretty insulated against consequence, which I found even more distasteful. So I left and never went back.”

  Xander chewed on that information. A senator with a tendency to play grab-ass wasn’t uncommon, either. Frustration welled beneath his breastbone at the anemic leads this meeting had given up. “Anything else?” he asked, almost desperately. “Anything at all?”

  The woman pursed her lips in thought, then said, “Well, I don’t know if it’s anything major but McQuarry was said to be closing a deal to bring a manufacturing plant to Oklahoma, trying to bring industry back when it left for Mexico for less stringent regulations. But now that McQuarry is gone, I doubt it’s going to happen. The governor just appointed Carl Sheffton as his replacement until a special election can happen, and Sheffton and Senator Williams have both been very vocal in their opposition against the project.”

  “Why so? Bringing jobs to a depressed economy is a good thing,” Xander said.

  “Sheffton alleges that the manufacturer eyeballed for the deal is known for environmental infractions. I’m talking toxic-waste-level exposure. Sheffton said inviting Wakefield Industrial into any Oklahoma city would be like feeding our kids cancer by the spoonful.”

  “That would definitely not be a selling point,” Xander agreed, thinking. “How close was McQuarry to closing this deal?”

  “I wasn’t privy to the details but sources say he was pretty close and stood to make a substantial sum of money from the deal.”

  “A kickback?”

  “Without using those exact words, yeah.”

  “If the governor appointed Sheffton, he must not be on board with the Wakefield deal, either.”

  The woman shrugged, unsure. “Honestly, I don’t even know if the governor knew about the Wakefield deal, but all Sheffton had to do was make himself look like the best candidate in the interim, therefore freeing up the governor to deal with other things. Once Sheffton hit the office, it was short work for Sheffton and Williams to shut down the deal.”

  “And how exactly would he have managed that if the deal was close to closing?”

  “McQuarry had offered certain tax credits if Wakefield chose an Oklahoma location, but my guess is that Sheffton and Williams withdrew those tax credits, which would’ve been a major incentive to set up shop here rather than Mexico.”

  “Let’s get real. Politicians don’t care about people. What’s the real reason Sheffton and Williams wanted to axe the deal?”

  The woman smiled, impressed. “The real reason? The oldest motivation in the book—money. Neither Sheffton nor Williams was cut into the deal, and they weren’t about to let McQuarry rake in the dough while they got nothing.”

  Now they were getting somewhere.

  Greed was the most powerful motivator—powerful enough to create killers out of suit-wearing politicians.

  Chapter 8

  It was hard enough to keep quiet in the shadows while Xander did his thing but now that they had some serious leads, the three-hour drive back to their crap motel was torture.

  “As soon as we get back to the motel, I need to run a few names through the database and see what pops up. That Wakefield deal was shady as hell. Why is it that politicians always end up with dirty fingers?”

  “Because they’re always poking them where they don’t belong,” Xander answered. “Yeah, I agree. That’s a solid lead. The saying ‘money is the root of all evil’ didn’t get the reputation for nothing. We’re probably talking millions in kickbacks on the line.”

  “You know, I’ve heard about Wakefield and what that reporter said was true. Wakefield was busted twenty years ago on their environmental waste storage, racked up a huge fine and then picked up and left for Mexico where the hazardous waste rules were less tough.”

  “But why return to the States? Even with a hefty tax credit, it couldn’t possibly have measured up against what they were getting in Mexico.”

  “It could be that the violence in certain parts of Mexico has gotten out of hand?” Scarlett speculated. “When Hershey moved their plant to Monterrey, Mexico, they had to hire a private security detail for on-site protection from the drug lords that have claimed that area. I know this because Red Wolf had put in a bid for the assignment. That kind of protection gets expensive.”

  Xander was surprised. “Yeah? A detail in Mexico could’ve been nice. I love Cabo.”

  “It wouldn’t have been a picnic. It’s a legitimate war zone down there. The cartels are equipped with semi-automatics and there’s more of them than there are of law enforcement. Plus, a lot of the cops are on the take so you can’t really trust them, either. Honestly, there’s no beach in the world that would’ve made that detail any fun. I’m glad we got outbid.”

  Xander nodded, thinking. “If it’s as bad as you say it is, a return to the States could warrant a second look.”

  Scarlett agreed. “And if there’s a politician willing to grease the wheels for a little extra green...could really sweeten the prospect.”

  Xander grinned, pleased. “That’s a solid lead. Can you run Wakefield Industries through the Red Wolf database without tripping any alarms?”

  “Yeah, it shouldn’t be a problem.”

  Xander nodded, visibly appreciative of Scarlett’s help. He would’ve had a bitch of a time getting the same information that Scarlett could get with a few keystrokes.

  But she would have Zak run Sheffton and Williams through the database to see what popped up. Red Wolf had one of the most extensive background-check programs, borderline-illegal in the intel it could glean from a few queries.

  “I still think we should look into the intern angle. I know it seems small in comparison to the Wakefield deal but I don’t feel comfortable leaving any stone unturned,” Scarlett said, pleased when Xander readily agreed.

  “Greed is a solid motivator but I wouldn’t rule out the possibility of a jealous wife. Although, blowing a man up for messing around, even if she felt humiliated, seems a little harsh.”

  Scarlett shrugged. “Women can be vicious.”

  “No argument there.”

  She laughed, sensing a story. Feeling far more at ease now that they had a direction to head into, she asked, “Were you ever on the receiving end of a jealous woman?”

  “What man hasn’t?” he quipped, shrugging as he added, “Let’s just say I seem to pick the ones all wrong for me.”

  “Oh, so you’re a cheater?”

  “I didn’t say that. I just have a bad habit of attracting the crazy ones and they tend to overreact when I flirt a bit.” He graced her with a quizzical look. “So how about you? What are you like as a girlfriend? The crazy kind, I bet.”

  “I don’t let anyone in long enough to make me crazy,” she answered coolly. That was the truth. If Xander thought he was bad at relationships, he didn’t have anything on her. Her career choice had led to some ill-fated partnerships, which had then led to the epiphany that she wasn’t cut out for the his-and-her matching towel set. “Red Wolf is my life. I don’t need anything else.”

  If that came out sounding as hollow as it felt, she wasn’t sure but Xander seemed to understand. “Yeah, people like us, we’re just made for the job. Civilians couldn’t possibly understand the rush, the adrenaline high that comes from what we do. It’s addictive.”

 
“No argument there,” she said, grinning. “Remember that detail in Morocco with the prime minister’s son? Holy crap, I thought we were going to eat a bullet on that one.”

  “Damn straight. I thought so, too. That kid needed a muzzle to shut his trap. By the end of the detail, I was half tempted to hand the kid over to the nearest terrorist group just to be done with him. That kid sure as hell wasn’t worth dying for.”

  Scarlett laughed, remembering when Xander shoved the lanky young man against the wall, his fists curled into the silk of his shirt after the kid had mouthed off one too many times. “I confess I was kinda hoping you were going to pop him in the mouth. It would’ve cost us the job but it would’ve been worth it.”

  Xander shared her laughter, his gaze dancing at the memory. “You have no idea how close I was, but Zak was the cool head and pulled me back. The kid didn’t realize how lucky he was. I was about to rearrange his teeth for what he’d said.”

  “He was a stupid spoiled brat,” Scarlett recalled, adding wistfully, “But his daddy paid well and we all got bonuses for keeping his spoiled ass safe until the threat was neutralized.”

  Yeah, and by neutralized, she meant a bullet put squarely between the eyes of the man behind the terrorist cell threatening to kidnap the kid for ransom.

  Afterward, a few days spent on Legzira Beach hadn’t sucked. Now that she recalled, she and Xander nearly shared a moment then, too, but she’d pulled back just in time—possibly before he’d even noticed the intent in her eyes.

  Thank God, she hadn’t kissed him.

  “Good times,” Xander said, nodding.

  “Yeah,” she murmured, casting her gaze out the window. Maybe that night at the bar had been destined to happen at some point or another. The attraction between them had always been like a ticking time bomb, just waiting for the right opportunity to blow.

  And now that they were on their own, playing by a new set of rules...did that mean she was willing to return to his bed?

  Scarlett drummed the window lightly in time to the thoughts in her head.