Fierce Defender: Book 2, Hard to Handle trilogy

by Kane, Janine

“For what?”

  She laughed. “A lot of mean things that I have said—and thought—about you. Mostly, though, for that trial where I chewed you up and spit you out. That kid… He just…”

  “Reminded you of your brother?”

  She nodded.

  “It makes sense now, at least.” He finished his coffee and looked at his watch. “I have to get over to Corpus Christie, but I’ll be back this afternoon, if I can. Will you be okay in the meantime?”

  She smiled. “I’ll be fine. This all gives me some time to unpack, finally. Hey, Gray...”

  “Yeah?”

  “I didn’t take those drugs.”

  He smiled at her, and she realized that when he was smiling at her genuinely, and not sarcastically, he was really handsome.

  “I know,” he affirmed. He grabbed his keys and his phone and added, “Stay home today. The media are all over this crap. And whatever you do, do not talk to Ayden or anyone connected to him. That goes for your brother as well.”

  “Okay.” Then again, she said, “Hey, Gray...”

  “Yes?” he replied with a tolerant smile.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  She closed and locked the door behind him. Taking a deep breath, she surveyed the mess in front of her. For the first times since moving in, she was happy there was still a lot of organizing to be had. It would give her something to do while keeping her mind off her troubles.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Someone to Talk To

  Sutherland Springs, Texas

  Wednesday Afternoon

  Zack heard Gray’s bike as soon as his friend turned onto his street. He wondered if bikes were supposed to be that loud, or if Gray’s precious Stella was going to need another restoration soon. Grabbing the plastic bag with the letter in it, he went outside to meet him. As Gray drove into the driveway and removed his helmet, the first thing Zack noticed was how rough he looked. If he didn’t know better, he would think he actually was a skin head biker.

  “Hey!” Gray said, leaping off Stella.

  Zack made a play of looking up and down the street before Gray approached him. “Hey, I just want to make sure none of my neighbors see me associating with a ruffian.”

  Gray flipped him off. “This ruffian had about two hours sleep last night while sitting straight up. One night in his own bed, and the three nights before that on a cement cot with a mattress that was an inch thick. Do you really want to mess with me?”

  Zack laughed. “I sure as hell wouldn’t if I didn’t know what a nice guy you really are. Thanks for looking into this. I don’t mind calling the Marshalls if you’re too busy to handle it.”

  “No, I think it’s actually going to help me out with another case. So thanks.”

  “Sure, anything my girlfriend, her dead-beat brother, and I can do to help.”

  “I have to run,” Gray said suddenly, checking his watch. “Maybe we can get that beer next week?”

  “Sounds good. Should I shave my head too, so I fit in?”

  “Fuck you,” Gray said with a grin.

  Zack watched Gray leave with a tiny twinge of envy. He loved Eva, and he loved his life here. Occasionally, though, the part of him that became a Navy Seal, not only because he wanted to save the world but because he was also an adrenaline junkie, felt like it might boil over. He shrugged it off. He had dishes and laundry to finish before Eva came home. His craving for a surge of adrenaline was replaced with something called contentment, and he liked that just as well.

  After cleaning the dishes, he went out to the garage to transfer the clothes from the washer to the dryer. As he did, he heard a tiny little click. Anyone else may have ignored it, but Zack knew that sound as well as he did his own name. It was a magazine being pulled back.

  There was someone in the house with a loaded gun.

  Moving against the wall closest to the door that led into the kitchen, he reached up quietly to the top of the old storage cabinet that held his yard tools. On top, there was a small hand ax. Grabbing it, he stepped slowly around the cabinet and came face to face with the business end of a .38.

  On the other side of the gun was a tall, very overly-dressed Mexican man. He was wearing a white suit with a black vest, like the one Travolta had worn in Staying Alive. His hair was even combed back in the same fashion Travolta wore his. His shoes were so shiny that Zack could see the reflection of the gun the man held in them.

  As if he was here as an invited guest, he smiled insincerely and said, “Hola, Mr. Norcross. Cutting wood today?”

  “I was thinking about cutting something. What about you? Going salsa dancing at the range?”

  The man laughed. “Funny, even with a gun at your face.”

  “I got the Most Likely to Become a Comedian Award in my senior class. But tell me more about you. What brings you and your gun to my home today?”

  “I was hoping that you might be up for taking a ride with me,” the man said.

  “I’d love to,” Zack challenged, “but I’m really not dressed for it, and if I don’t get this laundry done, the girlfriend will be mad as a hornet when she gets home.”

  “That is okay, Mr. Norcross,” the man said. “She is not coming home tonight… or ever.”

  That was it. No one threatened Eva. The adrenaline surge he’d wanted so bad was triggered. He did a round kick, dropping the man and the gun in one swoop. The man scrambled across the garage to where the gun landed, but Zack had another idea in mind.

  Right before the man reached the gun, Zack stepped on his thigh, less than gently, and said, “I think you’re getting that pretty suit all dirty. Let me get that for you.”

  But the man bucked as Zack reached forward and head butted him in the chin. Dropping the ax, Zack flew backwards and hit the storage shelf with the back of his head. He looked up in time to see the man grab the gun and spin around.

  “Drop it!” someone shouted.

  Gray was standing in the doorway, gun drawn.

  Zack felt dizzy and slightly giddy as the room spun around him. “It took you long enough. Jeez, did you have to go home and get your gun?”

  Without taking his eyes off the man he had his gun trained on, who was also pointing one back at him, Gray flipped Zack off.

  “I said drop it, asshole. ¿Hablas inglés?”

  “Yes, I speak it very well,” the man said. “I just speak it better with my gun in my hand.”

  “What did you mean when you said that Eva wasn’t coming home?” Zack asked him, his momentary haze leaving him.

  This caused the man to look as if he was pondering something, and then he said, “Either way, I die.”

  Within a second, he turned the gun back on Zack.

  And then he was dead.

  Gray had hit the man square in the chest, straight into his heart. The white of the man’s suit turned red under the stain of his own blood. But he would never know. Lying on the garage floor, he was lifeless.

  “How did you know he was here?” Zack asked.

  “When I pulled out onto the street, I looked into my side mirror and noticed a blue car sitting at the end of the cul-de-sac. There was a guy in the driver’s seat, and though he was pretty far away, it looked like he was watching your house through a pair of binoculars. I went towards the highway, so he wouldn’t suspect anything, and turned around.”

  He reached a hand out to help Zack up. “You okay?”

  A thought suddenly occurred to him. “I have to get to Eva,” he announced frantically, scrambling to his feet.

  As he grabbed his keys and his phone, he repeated to Gray what the man had said about Eva. Gray was already on his bike when Zack left the house. He backed out behind Gray, holding the phone to his ear after punching Eva’s number on speed dial. It rang and rang.

  “Come on, Eva. Pick up, baby,” he pleaded.

  Her voice suddenly came on the line. “Hi, this is Eva. Leave a message.”

  “Shit!” Zack yelled, ending the cal
l and pressing the number for the bakery. He got voicemail there as well. As he got on the highway, he knew he had to try and calm down. He told himself, “They’re just busy… she’s okay,” over and over like a mantra.

  ***

  Before jumping on his bike, Gray had called the Stockdale police and told them to get to the bakery. He told them to detain everyone there, and he would be there in less than twenty. As he raced up the highway, having to dart in and out between cars and eighteen wheelers, he found himself wishing Stella was equipped with lights and sirens so that these asshole would at least think about getting out of his way.

  ******

  Stockdale, Texas

  Numerous police cars were parked outside the front of the bakery when Gray came flying around the corner on Stella. Thankful they had responded so quickly, he skidded to a stop and slammed down the kick stand. Jumping off the bike, he ran up to the door, just as Zack’s tires came squealing around the corner.

  A young officer posted at the door stopped him. “Nobody in or out.”

  “I’m Special Agent Grayson Alexander with the DEA. I called you.”

  “Let me see some ID,” the guy ordered.

  Before he could take out his wallet, Gray heard Zack run up behind him, with no intention to stop. To prevent his friend from getting his head blown off, he grabbed Zack just before he barreled through the cop and the door.

  “Easy buddy,” Gray said. The officer already had his hand on his holster. “It’s okay,” Gray reassured him as he slipped his wallet out and opened it. "He’s with me.” The officer scrutinized his ID, gave Zack another suspicious glance, and then stepped aside. Zack jerked away from Gray and ran in ahead.

  Gray stepped in just as Eva threw herself into Zack’s arms.

  There were two customers, Eva, Cheryl, and six cops inside. With Zack and Gray, the place was full.

  “Who’s in charge?” Gray asked the cop at the counter.

  “My partner and I got here first,” he said.

  “Was this how you found things?” Gray asked him.

  “Pretty much,” the cop said. “The ladies were in the back. There was some kind of mixing machine running. No one else here except the two old men you see over there.”

  Gray heard Eva ask Zack what was going on.

  “Eva,” Gray said, “do you know those customers over there?”

  “Yes, they’re Paul and Ted. They come in every day. Why? What’s wrong?”

  “I’m sorry, Eva. Just a few more questions, okay? Did they start coming in before or after you started here?”

  “Way before. Cheryl says they’ve been regulars since she opened the place.”

  Gray glanced over at Cheryl. The older woman was sitting wide-eyed at the end of the counter, looking like she had just gotten the shit scared out of her. She probably had. Gray had been in the bakery a few times. Never once had Cheryl not had something to say.

  “Okay, now I have to ask you another question, Eva, and I need you to think hard, okay?” She nodded and he continued. “Are there any customers who have just recently started coming in a lot? Or have you noticed anyone standing on the street when you come in or leave every day? Anything weird or suspicious at all?”

  It didn’t take long for Eva to answer. “There’s this guy who’s been coming in a lot lately. He kind of creeps me out, but he hasn’t done anything wrong. He came in with a woman once, and then by himself every day until today. There was another man with him this morning.”

  “Can you describe them, Eva?” Gray asked her.

  “Yeah, the guy who comes in all the time is big. Not really tall, but stocky with broad shoulders. He has blonde hair and really blue eyes, and he dresses nicely. The other guy was very tall. I think he was a Mexican man. He had black hair and was wearing a white suit.”

  Gray and Zack looked at each other.

  “What?” she said.

  “Eva, do you think you could give a sketch artist a description of the blonde man?”

  “Sure,” she said. “Not the other guy.”

  “I think he’s already out of the picture,” Gray said.

  Zack hugged her again, but it seemed to only make her worry more. “Please tell me what this is all about.”

  Guiding her over to a corner table, Zack tried to explain.

  Gray finished up with the cops. He told them to let the old men go. And then he checked in with Cheryl to make sure she was okay. She was still subdued, for her, but she would have a new story to tell now, and there was nothing Cheryl liked better than that.

  Once the place had cleared out, Gray made two more phone calls, and then told Zack and Eva, “I have to um… go clean up that mess we made. Zack, can you take her to the Stockdale Police Station? They have the sketch artist on standby. After that, I’m sure my superiors and the state police are going to want to have a chat with us. It’s going to be a long night, I’m afraid.”

  “Sure,” Zack said. “Grayson…”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thank you, for everything.”

  That was the second thank you he’d received today, but he would rather not play the hero. It would be much better if the assholes who were targeting Danielle, Zack, and Eva were put away, permanently. Gray raised his chin in acknowledgement and smiled at Eva, and then he left.

  ******

  Vincent paced the hotel room. Armando should have called by now to tell him that he had finished what Vincent had sent him to do. If he screwed this up… As he had that thought, his phone began to ring. He reached for it and looked at the ID. It wasn’t Armando. It was that pig, Ayden Styles.

  “Yes,” Vincent answered impatiently. He despised the man. He would love to see Ayden’s head in a box. If Vincent didn’t need him to run the prison part of the operation…

  “Vincent! It’s Ayden,” the man said with a select amount of cheer in his voice.

  Vincent knew Ayden considered him a Mexican half-breed. It’s one of the reasons he wanted the man dead. Just as he also knew the only reason Ayden acted so friendly with him was because the man knew how much it pissed him off.

  “What can I do for you, Ayden? Haven’t I done enough?” he said very uncordially into the phone.

  “I much appreciated the discount on the cocaine you sold me, and the disappearing witness… Is that guy’s head going to show up somewhere?”

  “Ayden, focus, please. I’m a busy man.”

  “Yes, Vincent, I’m sorry. I’ll get to the point. Where is my cocaine?”

  Vincent really, really despised the man. “In the bag that Pablo sent away from the bar with your men yesterday, I assume. Did you check there?”

  “Don’t toy with me, Heston.” Ayden was talking through gritted teeth now, much to Vincent’s satisfaction. “You know full well what cocaine I’m talking about. The two keys your DEA buddy carried out of that vault yesterday.”

  “Hmm, I never thought about where he might put it. I’ll have to ask him.”

  “Tell me where to find him. I’ll ask him,” Ayden said, enraged.

  Vincent laughed and gave him Samuel’s home address.

  ******

  Sutherland Springs, Texas

  While they were still in Stockdale, Zack had told Eva what happened at the house. He didn’t want her to be too shocked when they got home. All he wanted to do was take her upstairs to their bedroom and wrap her in his arms, thankful she was still with him and that the man’s threats hadn’t come to pass. But he knew that wasn’t to be, not tonight. Proving him correct, as they drove up to their house, they were greeted by a barrage of black SUVs, police cars, and even a fire truck.

  Eva looked at Zack as they got out of the car and said, “How many people did Gray shoot?”

  Zack knew it was a rhetorical question, so instead of answering, he smiled and put his arm around her. He was so damned happy that she was okay, it made him not really care about the rest of it.

  They were stopped at the front door by a state police officer, but Gray saw th
em and waved at the police officer to let them in. Almost immediately, Zack was taken to the back bedroom by a detective for questioning. Gray’s superiors, Lewis and Gomez, were there as well and followed Zack in. Gray was told to stay put on the couch until they got back.

  Zack didn’t want to leave Eva, but he knew he had no choice.

  At least she’s okay. That’s all that matters, he reminded himself.

  ***

  Eva didn’t know how to feel. She was still processing everything, trying to put all the pieces together. It appeared someone had meant to kidnap or kill her tonight. Who or why, the cops had no idea, but her gut told her it had something to do with Hank. She wished she was wrong, that her brother was in Mexico somewhere safe and sound, living the dream, but she couldn’t shake away the knot in her stomach.

  But she hadn’t been the only one targeted. Zack had almost been killed as well. If there was any silver lining to the day, it was that he was okay.

  Eva sat down next to Gray on the couch. “Thank you for saving Zack’s life today.”

  Gray shrugged. “He could’ve handled it. I just happened to be here.”

  “Brave and modest,” Eva said. “It must be in the water around here.”

  He grinned and asked, “How did it go with the sketch artist?”

  “Good,” she said. “It looked just like him when the guy was finished with it. I was impressed. What are they going to do with it?”

  “They’ll release it as a Person of Interest and ask anyone who has seen him to call in,” he told her.

  “Hey, speaking of Persons of Interest, did you hear the news about Danielle Thurston?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “It’s a bunch of crap.”

  “Good,” she said. “I like her.”

  “Me too,” he confessed automatically, surprising her and himself.

  ***

  “DEA Agency Corpus Christie, this is Sue. How can I help you?”

  Sue, the agency’s receptionist, listened to what the caller had to say, and then she asked the person to hold while she routed the call through to her supervisor. Agent Gomez answered on the first ring. She told him what the caller had said and that she was patching the call through.