The Lonesome Lawmen Trilogy

by Pauline Baird Jones

  His dark gaze took her to the knife edge of knowing why Eve chose knowledge in Adam’s embrace over that pretty Garden. It tempted her to surrender lonely autonomy for the shared warmth of his molten gaze.

  She’d been cold a long time.

  If he knew who she was? If he knew who he was looking at? She’d be on the fast track to bait city. Desire wouldn’t turn that jaw from pursuit of Dark Lord. She had to get away before her hormones effected a coup d’ etat on her willpower.

  Her throat was dry with longing as she forced out, “You make a better wall than door, cowboy.”

  He heard her words, knew he needed to move, but Matt was wound so tight he didn’t know if he could. She wasn’t his type. She wasn’t on the same planet as his type. His body didn’t seem to care. It registered only that she was long and lean, except where the leather fell open to frame her round, full breasts. That she was giving off enough bravado to bring out the beast in any guy with a beating heart and working parts didn’t help.

  His parts were doing what nature intended them to do, despite a determined rear guard action by his common sense. His blood supply was draining south faster than a cowboy’s first beer, taking the oxygen he needed for thinking. Sweat beaded his brow. A red mist formed in front of his eyes. His chest went tight from the scent of warmed leather, warmer woman, and something he should recognize, but couldn’t because of that blood shortage problem.

  Riggs, straining to get a look over Matt’s shoulder, accomplished what Matt couldn’t do for himself, bumping him aside, and leaving a small channel for her to pass through. One so small her body brushed against him for an endless moment as she edged past.

  Her lashes hid her eyes from him. The makeup was heavy on her face, but it couldn’t hide the clean, strong foundation of her bones. Her hair was a wild halo around her face, wild like she’d just been prone and seriously physical. At the last minute, her lashes lifted, her gaze catching his, holding it captive while she cut the ground from under his feet without blinking.

  Her eyes. Deep in his brain an alarm went off. As if she heard it, she broke the contact and stepped past him into the hallway. Hands on leather hips, she looked over her shoulder, her gaze flicking down, then up, the depths slumberous with “come hither,” her smile weighted with warning. “Thanks, cowboy.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said, wanting to match her grin and raise it. Wanting nothing more than to escalate this sudden battle of the sexes with his own salvo. He didn’t. He was a grown up. A professional. He almost forgot both those things when her eyes called him coward. Then she turned and headed down the hall, each swish of her leather covered hips packing a prize fighter’s punch to his gut.

  Riggs said in his ear, “Kinda restores your faith in a higher power, don’t it?”

  “Yeah.” Matt watched her pause at a bulletin board covered with flyers. She paused very well.

  “Do you think she’s reading that or just looking at the pictures?” Riggs asked, awed.

  Dani heard the question as she stared blindly at the board. The chilled air in the hallway stroked goose bumps across her heated skin. She could still feel the way their bodies had brushed together, still smell him with each unsteady breath, but when she heard Matt snap, “Does it matter?” she knew she’d made the right decision.

  Neither of them had seen Dani underneath biker babe. If she got out of this alive, she was going to put the alpha hero in her next book through total hell. She stared at the flyer hard enough to burn a hole right through it, felt his eyes boring into her for an endless moment. The urge to turn and challenge him was almost overwhelming.

  She almost sagged with relief when she felt his attention shift away. Her heart pounding in her throat, she took a cautious peek and saw him start into Boomer’s office. Then he stopped and stepped back, his back to her, so his partner could go in ahead of him.

  She still wanted to rail at him, but she did have to admit one thing. Caro was wrong. His butt wasn’t just fine.

  It was really fine. Jeans ought to be illegal on men who already had the corner on sexy.

  She sighed, turned to go, when she caught a familiar name out of the corner of her eye. She stopped, more closely examining the flyer. Was it—it was. Kelly Kerwin. Listed as the featured speaker for the writer’s conference the flyer was promoting.

  Kelly. It was like finding land in a storm. Dani grinned, felt biker babe make a comeback. Just in time, too. Matt started to follow his partner, hesitated, then looked back at her, like he couldn’t help himself. She gave him a cheeky grin, then turned and headed down the hall away from him, taking each step like the song said, one hip at a time. Reveled in knowing he watched every one.

  Matt didn’t, couldn’t move until she turned the corner out of his sight. What was wrong with him? He couldn’t blame this on Dani Gwynne. Maybe she wasn’t the problem. Maybe he needed to get out more, chase some women instead of fugitives. He shook his head, trying to break free of the keen bite of lust brought on by swaying hips, endless legs and those cutting eyes—

  He stepped into Boomer’s office, frowning, his unease returning in a pointed surge. What was it about her eyes…

  Riggs held up a print out. “We got ten possibles with the five mostly likely matches near the top. The list of people each handle chats with is attached.”

  “Let me see.” Matt took the sheet, blinked twice before the first name came into focus. Willow. Again he felt the kick of instinct…her posts. Something he’d read in her posts…like the willow tree, I bend not break…

  It was almost too obvious. “That’s her. I’m sure of it. Did you give him the email from Hayes?”

  “Not yet.” Riggs pulled the sheet out of his coat pocket and handed it to Boomer.

  Matt looked at the list of names again, then lifted the sheet, and quickly scanned the list of people Willow chatted with—a biker called Meathook? Biker? Biker’s babe? Pieces were falling into place around him as lightly as boulders, but it couldn’t be that easy…or could it?

  The moment they’d been chest to chest came back to him. Leather. She’d smelled of leather but there’d been something else, something too elusive for him to be sure…

  Boomer looked up. “I’ve already seen this email—”

  “Coconut. And her eyes. Son of a bitch.” Matt turned, his boots slipping against the tile floor as he dived for the door. Riggs made a plaintive sound behind him. Matt ignored him, too intent on getting down the hall. It seemed like it took forever until he skidded around the corner and slammed into the railing. Lucky for him it wasn’t too low. Matt was only winded when he looked down and saw her in the heart of the stairwell, her hand on the door.

  “Dani Gwynne!” She started and looked up at him, biker babe fading from her upturned face. He couldn’t believe he’d missed it before. Maybe the leather had confused his thinking. And the legs. And the breasts. He shook his head. Her body was tense with a fight-or-flight wariness that was as disturbing as her cocky stance had been. His was tense with lust. Her eyes flashed a warning he couldn’t ignore. It took effort to ask with tight calm, “Can we talk?”

  She hesitated. “About what?”

  About what? “Oh, I don’t know. How about the guy trying to kill you?”

  Her gaze narrowed. “You want him bad, don’t you, cowboy?”

  “It’s my job to want him bad.”

  “Funny,” she said, looking suddenly sad, “I thought it was to help me.” She pushed the door open.

  Trust a woman to turn it around.

  She was already sliding out the door, calling as she ran, “Meat!”

  Matt jumped the rail as Riggs ran up beside him. He landed hard, slid down four steps before he got his balance again. Heard the roar as a bike was kicked to life. Plunged recklessly to the bottom, taking the steps in threes. Made the door just as she was throwing her leg over the back of a nice looking Hog. He just had time to make the license plate before they wheeled in a circle and roared down the street.


  Cussing, he started for his car, remembered Riggs had the keys. “Keys, Riggs!”

  Riggs, puffing like he had asthma and patting frantically, joined him in a dash to the car. “You sure I got ’em?”

  Matt stared at the Hog getting smaller and smaller. “Just find the damn keys!”

  “Uh, Matt?”

  “What?”

  “I found the keys.”

  He turned, saw Riggs pointing inside the car. “You didn’t.”

  Riggs shoved his hands in his pockets and contemplated sky. “Oops.”

  With a low moan, Matt leaned on the car, mentally cursing fate, Riggs and the romance writer. While a moving picture of her long legs and leather-covered ass settling on the back of the Hog played repeatedly in his head.

  * * * *

  Hayes watched the Hog pass with his prey, then pulled in behind them. Who would have thought that she’d go to the biker Meathook for help? And yet, why not? Both of them had lost a child in accidents. Learned their first lesson in that ultimate democracy called death.

  Like a shadow he followed each turn they made until they stopped in a convenience store parking lot. They were splitting up. Good. He saw her look up at Meathook, her face shadowed. Did she sense him? Perhaps. It didn’t matter. She was about to get her last lesson in death. Like the proverb said, “Death is a shadow that always follows the body.” He was, Hayes thought with rising pleasure, that shadow for Dani Gwynne.

  There’d be no escape for her this time.

  NINE

  “You sure you’re gonna be all right? Don’t like leaving you here.” Meat stared down the dreary street with a scowl. “Mama ain’t gonna like it neither.”

  “He made your plate, Meat. Be at your doorstep by now. Biker babe is too hot.”

  Meat’s gaze flicked down to her legs and back. He grinned. “Can’t argue with that, sweet thing.”

  Dani smiled, but it wavered at the edges, then faded. “I can’t thank you enough, big guy.”

  He looked down, shuffling his feet. “You ain’t gonna get mushy on me are you?”

  “Yeah. Deal with it. It’s the price you pay for being there for me. Now give me a hug.”

  “Well,” he opened his arms wide, “if you insist.”

  When his arms closed around her, she closed her eyes, absorbing comfort from his hug, drawing strength from his sturdy man body while the iron rings of his leather vest dug into her cheek.

  It hurt to step back alone. With the sun westering in the sky, she felt her will to go the distance waver.

  “Willow…” Meat frowned, as if he sensed her indecision.

  “I’m gonna be fine. Really.” She didn’t convince herself, probably didn’t convince him, but it didn’t matter. It couldn’t change what she had to do.

  “Yeah.” He slung a leg over his machine. “And tell Oxford I sent you. He’ll make you a good deal.”

  “Sure.”

  “Watch your back, babe.” He gave a vaguely frustrated shake of his head, then kicked his Hog to life. Put it in gear and made a slow, wide turn away from her before picking up speed with a roar and a final wave.

  Dani watched until he was out of sight, then turned and pushed open the door of the convenience store. Inside, she could hear Mary Chapin Carpenter singing about taking chances. Easy for her, Dani thought sourly. She didn’t have Dark Lord on her ass and a former spook with a crush at the top of her list of familiar strangers.

  It had been hard to decide to call Spook, so it annoyed her when there was no answer at his number. How like a man to tell you to let him know when you’re in town, then not be there. Dani couldn’t think of any message that wouldn’t sound paranoid, so she hung up without speaking. She should have left then, but instead she stared at the pay phone like it held the answers to her problem.

  She was adrift in the city, night was approaching fast, and she was desperately in need of contact with someone solidly on her side.

  Think, Dani. You’ve got yourself out of plot dead ends before. Use your noodle.

  A pity her noodle, even with a Diet DP charge, was mush. She couldn’t fight temptation, not now. She reached for the telephone, dialed, waited for a pick up and said, “This is Dani. Let me talk to Pat.”

  It was a short wait before her agent came on. “Dani! What the hell you doing?”

  Dani leaned against the dirty wall, using both hands to hold the telephone against her ear. “I’m calling you on the phone. Why?”

  “What’s wrong? You back with the Feds?”

  “No. Just needed to hear a friendly voice.”

  “And you called me?”

  Dani smiled and leaned against the wall. “Yeah, well, I had to settle for bracing, okay?”

  “Feeling sorry for yourself?”

  Dani’s laugh broke in the middle. “Yes, damn you.”

  “What happened?”

  “What hasn’t happened?”

  Pat was quiet. “You in trouble?”

  “Trouble? Me? Why would you think that? Just because the bad guy wants to torch me and the good guys want to turn me into a target? That’s not trouble, is it?”

  “Can the pity wallow and do something. When have you ever choked over a plot?”

  Dani smiled shakily as tears stacked up in her eyes. “Do you always have to be right?”

  “Yes.” Pat hesitated. “Call them, Dani.”

  “Call who?”

  “You know who.”

  Dani hesitated, opened her mouth to protest, then closed it. Talking to Pat put you solidly in the no-bull shit zone. Arguing with her would use up scarce energy. “I’ll think about it. Better go now. They’re probably tracing this call.”

  “Take care, Dani.” Pat’s voice didn’t sound quite so brusque, until she added, “I’d hate to lose you when you finally started making me some real money.”

  “Don’t get all sentimental on me. I wouldn’t know how to handle it.” Dani hung up the telephone, but didn’t let go of the receiver, unable to break the contact.

  “You done?” a woman asked impatiently behind her.

  “Yeah.” Dani stepped back, relinquishing her spot in the gritty hallway. She wasn’t biker babe anymore. She was pathetic, an embarrassment to her leather shorts. She straightened her shoulders. She may not have a plan, but she did have the next step: Meat’s friend, Oxford.

  * * * *

  Hayes had almost decided to risk going inside after Gwynne, when the door of the convenience store opened and she came out. Her biker babe get up was looking rough around the edges, her face pale and drawn. She was weakening even as he grew stronger. He smiled, one both feral and anticipatory, his thoughts lingering pleasurably on the email he’d sent her earlier. She wouldn’t get it, but it was nice to know how prophetic he’d been.

  Do you flee and cry out, Death? Say farewell to hope, and with hope, farewell to fear. Have no hope to live, but prepare to die. Be absolute for death, for life will be sweeter thereby. If you lose life, you do lose a thing that none but fools would keep.

  You’re no fool, are you, Dani?

  Do you miss your baby?

  Well, weep no more, sweet lady, you’ll be seeing her soon. Fit yourself for the journey. Make yourself worthy. I am coming to set you free. --<--<-(@

  As if everything was an effort, she looked both ways and then stepped off the curb, crossing the street in the center of a knot of people. Despite her in-your-face swagger, she looked around, studying every face as if she sensed scrutiny.

  A pity she’d seen him. Stalking wasn’t nearly as much fun when the victim could make your face. No time to change it now. He studied the crop of bums lounging against a seedy building, picked one looking woefully at his empty bottle.

  “You want a full one of those?” Hayes asked. “You follow my wife, tell me where she goes, and I’ll give you enough cash to buy you a case.”

  The bum considered his offer. “Your wife?”

  “That’s right.” Hayes pointed Gwynne out and handed him a card
and a quarter. “Call this number when she stops moving.”

  The man studied the card, then his empty bottle. He scratched his dirty hair with a dirtier hand, tossed the bottle and said, “Sure. Why not.”

  * * * *

  Alice met Matt at the door to his office. “Hayes has emailed her again. And she called her agent. Sounded pissed. Any idea why?”

  “I’m the one who should be pissed.” Matt thought about his interview with Meat’s Mama. Chalk another one up to what he owed the romance writer, double for the pat on the butt from the biker’s Mama. “What did she say?”

  “Come listen.”

  In the conference room, Matt threw himself in a chair and nodded to the tech to start the tape. His frown lightened somewhat as he listened. The agent had weighed in on their side. It had to help. “They get a trace on it?”

  “Public phone in a convenience store off Colfax,” Alice said.

  Matt looked at Riggs. “Tracks with where Meathook said he dropped her off.”

  “Sent the DPD over to check it out, but…” Alice said.

  “Natch she was gone.” Henry looked glum. “Never stays anywhere for two minutes. How’d she get onto Boomer?”

  “Following the same tack we were. She asked him to do a compare on the email from Hayes.” Matt frowned. Was it possible that she knew her Dark Lord from cyberspace?

  “She’s had us chasing our tails from day one. If she doesn’t contact any of the people we’ve worked so hard to uncover, how are we gonna track her?” Riggs tossed the computer sheets from Boomer onto his desk and dropped into a chair, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

  “Maybe it will force her to contact the people we do know about.” Henry tossed another file onto the growing pile on the table. “I found her money trail for all the good it does us now.”

  Alice rubbed her forehead. “If she’s on the hop, she’s liable to make a mistake.”

  “Well, let’s try to be the ones who cash in on it.” Matt rubbed his chin, then turned to Riggs. “I want you to get the records off the pay phone. If she called her agent, maybe she called someone else, someone who wasn’t there. Or someone who was. Check the numbers on either side of her call within, say, ten or fifteen minutes?”