by Cara Carnes
Mary could tell the exchange wasn’t going well when the guy put a hand on his gun.
“Who’s that?”
Riley peered outside, then slumped into the seat, pale. “Ronnie Haskell, Sheriff.”
“Hailey’s cousin? That Ronnie Haskell?”
“Yeah.”
Mary didn’t like the idea of anyone related to that bitch clapping eyes on Bree and Rhea, especially given the fact bullets were just flying. She wanted them secure, not on the roadside answering questions forever.
“Let’s slide out from your side.” Mary looked into the backseat at the other women. “She’s going to lock you in, okay? You stay hidden until this is over.”
Mary slid out of the truck behind Riley, who locked the vehicle. Keys in her pocket, she strolled toward the scene like it was a car accident and not a shootout.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m thinking so.” Riley mumbled and slowed her walk. “Don’t say anything. Let Dylan and them do the talking. We’re just innocent witnesses who got shoved off the road.”
“You okay?” Dylan asked as he ran up to them.
“I’m not done with you, Mason. Get back over here.”
“Shove it, Ronnie,” Dylan growled.
“We’re okay.” Mary hugged him close. “Don’t let him near the truck. Bree and Rhea are hiding.”
“It’s okay. We’ll get them secure soon.”
“You want to let go of your girlfriend and answer my questions, Dylan?” Ronnie palmed his gun as he spat chewing tobacco on the road too near Mary’s foot for comfort. “You discharged a firearm and engaged in a gunfight. I’m taking you and your brothers into custody.”
“You’re out of your jurisdiction, Haskell. Look around. Everything you claim happened occurred in Resino County, not your turf. Back off.”
“You Mason boys think you own Resino County and everyone in it. You’re gonna learn. One day you’re gonna see who’s really in charge.” He adjusted his belt. “I’ll call this in, sit with you until the authorities show up. I’m sure they’d appreciate a neutral witness.”
“You go right ahead and do that,” Marshall said. He put a hand on Mary’s back. “You okay?”
“Yes, though I think Riley looks a bit shell shocked. We should head back to the ranch. Do we need to hang around?”
“I’m afraid so,” Dylan replied. “Hang tight. This shouldn’t take long.”
Long turned into four grueling hours since Sheriff Jerk Face called everyone and their mother to the scene. Apparently, he had jurisdiction over the neighboring county, which was a whole ten paces to the left of the scene. Talk about excellent timing.
The county coroner rolled up about the time the real county Sheriff pulled up. He was in his mid-forties and graying on the side near his ears. He offered a tight smile and firm handshake to Marshall and his brothers. Each one earned a sneer from Haskell, who watched from the sidelines as the coroner went about doing whatever needed to be done. A volunteer fire fighter showed and started turning vehicles around from both directions until the scene could be processed.
“Mary, this is Sheriff Patterson. He’ll need to ask you a few questions. I’ll be right over here if you need anything, okay?” Dylan said.
“But...” What the heck do I say?
“This won’t take long, Ms. Reynolds, then we’ll get you and Riley home, okay?”
“Okay.” She looked around, wondering where the heck Addy skulked off to. Somehow she’d avoided being seen by Haskell entirely.
“I understand you’ve had some troubles. Marshall phoned the other day, gave me a heads up that any strangers around town probably weren’t wanting a welcome.”
“Yeah, things got a bit complicated.” She shrugged. “I’m assuming they were following me, but I can confirm it once we run a facial recognition scan. If you want.”
“Dylan mentioned Cord would be by to take photos.”
“Okay, good. Excellent.”
“There a reason the backdoor is open to the truck? I understand you and Riley were alone in the vehicle. Is everyone okay?”
“Yeah, fine. Must’ve opened it accidentally. I was pretty rattled.”
“Right. Running covert ops for the most elite operatives in the world and hacking into unhackable interfaces probably doesn’t prepare someone for a gunfire.” He smiled. “You’re okay, Mary. The boys and I go way back. Our families go way back. When they opened The Arsenal doors, I promised I’d look the other way as long as they kept Resino safe and out of whatever rolled through the area. So far, we’ve been good. This is the only time I’m a bit nervous, but I’ve seen some strange things around town. Cameras popping up in the corners of buildings and streets.”
“Yeah, my friend and I decided to test a new system. Resino seemed like a perfect place.”
“Marville’s probably better. It’s a few miles down the road, in Haskill’s county. I’m sure the footage there would be pretty interesting from what I hear.”
“That’s good to know.” Another hint things weren’t right in Dylan’s backyard.
“As I understand it, Miss Mason lost control of her vehicle and landed in the bar ditch. Unfortunately, the truck following too closely slammed into traffic, which angled into their lane to avoid hitting Miss Mason.” He grinned as he read the statement, then looked at the two large Mason trucks crunched against the red one. “Does that seem right to you?”
“Yes. I’m afraid I didn’t see much, though. The shock and all.”
“Of course.”
“The truck’s inhabitants fired at the Masons and their employees when they exited their vehicles to assess injuries and damage.”
“I did hear gunfire.”
“Being armed volunteer officers and former military, all with conceal and carry licenses, they adequately defended themselves. A casualty was unfortunately the byproduct of bad decision making on the part of the red truck inhabitants. Folks in Resino County don’t appreciate being shot at. We defend what’s ours.”
The fierceness in his voice calmed Mary’s rattled nerves. “I’m glad to hear it, Sheriff. Thank you for your help today.”
“Thank you, Miss Reynolds. I’m thinking I’ll be saying that quite a bit in the future.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Dylan had thought he’d hit his tipping point when he’d rescued a beaten, tortured woman. Now that he’d tasted her sweetness and heard her cry his name while she fell apart in his arms, he realized he’d been nowhere close to tipping.
Now though. Now he’d shifted and jetted straight into enraged. He charged passed his brothers and tapped in his code. The buzzer sounded on the room.
“Don’t,” warned Cord.
“Take a step back. Let us handle this,” Marshall said.
“Those bastards followed her around town. What the hell was their play? That’s what I’m going to found out.” His voice thundered through the containment observation room. “Now let me in the fucking room.”
“We’ll get the answers. All of them. First from them, then Driggs,” Jesse promised.
“She can’t even fucking breathe without them on her. That’s no way to live. I’m not letting that keep on, keeping her locked in our compound, chained to our property like a dog. She can finally breathe, feel life outside operations. She was in town buying lacy shit, sharing her happy with her crew, and those pricks slid past our radar and got onto her.” He turned, angered he’d let everyone convince him she was safe alone in town.
The door beeped open. Vi walked in with Addy. Laptop perched on her left hand, she looked at Dylan with tears in her eyes.
“You got her back for me. My Mary is back. Go. Do what you’ve gotta do, just remember she’s waiting for you. Keep them breathing. I can cover anything else.” Vi blinked rapidly as she sat next to Cord.
Finally. He’d get answers. He charged into the second holding room where they’d kept the driver, Rick Montez, a local prick who’d gotten a two grand deposit in his bank
this morning.
“Man, you can’t hold me. I’ve got rights.”
“Sit down and shut the fuck up. You’ve got the rights I decide to give you. Right now, I’m not feeling very giving.” He kicked the chair toward the asshole against the wall.
Montez was the mouthpiece and ring leader for the other two schmucks in adjacent cells. One of them would break, but Dylan figured this one had the most intel.
“Who hired you?”
“Man, you’re crazy. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was cruising with my buddy, and you and your brothers rolled up on us like you’re gangsters or something. Get me my lawyer. I’m going to sue your asses.” He laughed and looked Dylan up and down. “Yeah, I’m gonna own all this shit by the time I’m through with you.”
“You’re so far over your head on this you don’t even realize you’re a dead man walking.” Dylan waited until the man sat in the chair, then approached. “Whoever hired you didn’t tell you who they were. Did he?”
“No one hired me. I was cruising, showing off my new ride. One you crashed.”
“Yeah? You stop and buy a new dress for that fine little figure of yours first? You’d better pack it, because it’ll probably keep you breathing. Where you’re going, assuming I let you go, they like little things like you. That dress will look real sweet around your waist as your bent over.”
“I’m out of here. You can’t keep me.” The man rose and headed for the door. He yelped when the handle shocked him. The sizzle cut through the room.
That was new.
Dylan chuckled. Someone had rewired the security. Interesting.
“You at the dance last night?”
“Yeah, so?”
“You remember the pretty brunette who got up in Hailey’s face?”
The man swallowed and sat.
“Yeah, you remember. She mentioned someone, a girl who knew a thousand different ways to kill someone. She was in that truck. They both were. They’ll be in here next. You won’t handle them.”
“I was just supposed to grab the stupid bitch, okay?” He shouted. “That’s all, man.”
“Which one? Who were you sent for?”
“The one from last night. Your woman.”
“Who hired you?”
“I don’t know. Me and my guys have a reputation for handling problems. Word got around. We got a call from a local number, some dude hanging out at Bubba’s after the dance. I heard the jukebox in the background. You know, the way it rattles and whines.” Rick shook his head. “The dude had already deposited two G’s in my account. I had to take the gig.”
“Where were you taking her?”
“The old Burton place. The crazy bastard had an underground tunnel system for the drug running. This dude knew all about it.”
Fuck.
Dylan charged out of the room. Marshall and Jesse were on their phones. Cord was furiously pounding away on Vi’s computer. Addy was looking around, confused.
“It’s next door,” Dylan said. “The old man was whacked, built a whole network of underground tunnels. Some tap into our land. Hell, the first level of this underground facility bumps up against one. We should’ve thought of that.”
“You’re saying those crazy bastards with Driggs could bust in underneath you? This entire time? No wonder they wanted us all here. We’re fish in a barrel,” Addy replied.
“No one in Warrior’s Path is cleared for this area,” Jesse commented. “Unless someone’s been talking, that narrows the field down.”
“Round everyone up,” Marshall ordered. “Anyone flagged. I want them down here and contained until we get some answers.”
Jesse and Cord headed out.
“Time to question Driggs,” Marshall said.
“I’ve gotta get Mary,” Dylan replied.
“Later. I want answers now. We could have an entire squad of men on our doorstep.”
“Two minutes. I promised she could be here.”
Marshall’s jaw twitched. “Go.”
A SLIGHT TREMBLE RESONATED in Mary’s bones. Not because of something she’d witnessed, or done. No, for once her hands were clean. Her mind clear and her conscious unharmed by a decision she’d made to keep an operative alive.
The tremble existed because Dylan’s rage was her own. She fed off the agitation in his gaze, the thundering animosity in the way he prowled down the empty corridors like a fierce lion hunting prey.
“Dylan.”
“Not now, sweetheart. Marshall’s waiting.”
“Then let him.” She snagged his shirt and pulled. “Talk to me.”
“The guys in the truck were local, hired by direct deposit and a phone call. Vi’s working the deposit. Cord and Jesse are rounding up everyone flagged for containment.” His voice was a monotone, rote reply without emotion. “It’s time to question Driggs.”
Her stomach tightened. He turned and headed into the room, one with glass walls all the way down. The corridors were bulletproof glass as well. The walls along the containment areas were metal, seemed thick but that was merely a guess since they’d spent the money on bulletproofing glass. Why cheap out on the rest?
Marshall and Nolan were arguing with Dylan in the corner. Jesse approached. Hand on her shoulder, he squeezed and did a slight shake of his head. She approached the huddle.
“You can’t do this, man,” Jesse said. “You’re too close to this. It’ll fuck with your head.”
“He’s right,” Nolan added. “You got out to get away from this shit.”
“Stay out of it,” Dylan warned as he looked at Marshall. “I’m lead. I question him.”
“Why don’t you let us have the first crack?” Jesse suggested.
“He’s mine,” he growled.
Mary’s gut twisted. He’d gotten out, run from the demons haunting him. She couldn’t let him take Driggs for her.
I couldn’t kill to live, not anymore. Because I was starting to forget why I bothered living at all.
The confession haunted her. He deserved a clean soul. The blood spilled today was hers to wear, not his.
“Who’s questioning Driggs?” Mary asked.
“I am,” Dylan replied. He glanced over at Vi. “No recording.”
Vi looked at her wide-eyed. Yeah, damn. This wasn’t going to end well. No matter what she did, Dylan would get pissed, but she couldn’t stand back and let him...
This was her responsibility. Her job. Marshall, Nolan, Cord, and Jesse stood near Dylan. Dallas leaned against the door into the hallway leading to Drigg’s chamber.
“I’ll—” Vi snapped her mouth shut when Mary made the cut throat motion.
“No. This is me.”
“Marshall, per our agreement, interrogations fall under my purview. Mine and Vi’s. Isn’t that correct?” She summoned the voice she’d used thousands of times. She was The Edge. “As long as The Arsenal has the Quillery Edge, we hold final say on data acquisition.”
Marshall’s jaw twitched as he glanced to where Dallas was against the door. Jesse cursed and swiped a hand across his face.
Dylan’s body tightened as he struck her with an angered, dead-eyed stare she felt rip her insides. “You don’t get to make a call here, Mary. You needed to be here for closure. I need this for closure.”
“You promised me you’d stay at my side, get me through. You can’t do that if you’re in there.”
“If you can’t handle watching, then leave. I’m thinking you’ll be okay with what I do. You’ve dealt with this shit for how many years?” Dylan looked past Dallas and into the chamber holding Driggs.
Mary forced her gaze to remain in the room, not on the man who’d wrecked her life. “You promised me, Dylan.”
“Leave, Mary. Go back to our room. This won’t take long.”
Mary took a deep breath and sealed off the pain and fear coursing through her. Regret surged forward, followed by shock, denial, anger and...
Love.
She loved Dylan so much she couldn’t let him
do this. She’d seen operatives past the breaking point, the one where they checked their humanity at the door and walked out a tortured soul with no scruples, no morals. A cold-blooded killer.
Ravaged by what they’d done.
She’d studied Dylan’s file extensively, like she had all the others. He wasn’t an interrogator. He felt too deeply to summon the cold-blooded nature required to get answers no matter what.
He may have done some enhanced interrogation while in Delta, but he was a sniper. He killed from a distance, saw the target through a scope. Not up close and personal. Though it shouldn’t make a difference, it did.
A world of difference.
And he’d left because he couldn’t handle the blood on his soul. He had no business in the room. None of the Masons did. She’d seen their records.
If she let Dylan walk in and do what was required to get answers, neither of them would walk away unscathed. Martin Driggs wouldn’t breathe after this was over. Men like him, the intel they carried...
Someone in the alphabet soup had likely sent the notice. Dylan as much as admitted it last night. She noted as much in Marshall’s gaze, the way he wouldn’t meet hers. Dylan couldn’t kill Driggs. Not for her.
“I couldn’t stare through my site and end another life, know I stopped another heartbeat with my bullet. Even if they deserved it.” Mary swallowed as she repeated the words he’d whispered just last night. “I couldn’t kill to live, not anymore. Because I was starting to forget why I bothered living at all.”
Dylan glared at her, rage evident in his expression. “Don’t. Don’t toss words I said in bed. Nothing I said there counts, not here. This is my job.”
“No, Dylan. It’s not. You are an operative, not an interrogator. Data acquisitions is under my purview, and you are not psychologically fit to perform the required duties. You are not handling Martin Driggs or anyone else in those cells.” Mary’s voice thundered through the room.
Dylan backed up a step, hurt on his face. Regret punctured the ice forming around her soul, but it was too late. She’d slipped into The Edge, become what was needed to keep everyone safe, even if it meant using their own words against them.
