Zeph Undercover

by Jenny Andersen

  Rage turned the scene scarlet for a split second before he clamped down emotion and snapped into ice cold hunter mode. Lem and his gun had to be taken out of the equation first. If Pete carried a weapon, Zeph couldn’t see it.

  “Nice you were t’home, little lady,” Pete said in his whiny voice. “Night’s gone to hell in a handbasket. But now—didn’t expect no bonus like this.”

  Zeph clenched his teeth. He’d give them a bonus, all right.

  “People are in and out of here all the time. You might want to leave before someone comes,” Allie said. Her voice shook a little, telling him she was afraid but had a grip on the fear.

  “Maybe we ain’t ready to leave just yet.”

  She jerked away from the threat in Lem’s voice. Pete slapped her. The sharp crack split the night like a pistol shot. Her head rocked back and she stumbled, knocking Lem off balance.

  He let go of Allie’s arm and fired wildly at nothing. Bullets thunked into the house, whined past Zeph where he crouched, and whistled past Pete and Allie.

  “You damn fool,” Pete yelled. “Cut that out.”

  Zeph exploded out of the shadow of the truck, yanking the gun out of Lem’s hand and slamming it into the side of his head in one smooth motion. Even before Lem hit the ground, before Pete could think about using Allie as a shield, Zeph wheeled and plowed his fist into Pete’s belly. When the man bent, retching, Zeph jerked him off his feet and threw him at his brother.

  ****

  Allie froze at the sight of Zeph lifting Pete and hurling him like a sack of oats. Lem grunted at the impact when Pete landed on him and the two collapsed in a tangle.

  Zeph stuck Lem’s gun in his belt and held his own gun steady on the downed men.

  Allie stared at him, shocked to the core. The man she’d known, the tender lover who’d held her, had disappeared. Right before her eyes he’d turned from an elegant sophisticate to something straight out of a Special Forces film clip. “You threw him,” she whispered. “Like he was a rag doll.”

  “He hit you. You okay?”

  She shivered at the promise of infinite violence in that flat, cold voice. “Fine,” she answered in a shaky voice. “Can you untie my hands?”

  “Yeah. Come over here. Don’t get between me and them.”

  “Hey. I watch cop shows,” she said with a trembling laugh. Her bravado slipped, and she added in a voice thin with shock, “They wanted a hostage in case there were road blocks.”

  “There are.”

  She stumbled over to him. Her eyes went wide when he pulled a knife from his boot.

  “Turn around,” he said, and when she did, cut the ropes that clumsily bound her hands. “That’s my girl. Can you get the cuffs out of my car? Time to get these hunks of carrion down to the jail.”

  “Good. I’d love to press charges.”

  “Get in line, honey. Monty’s first with attempted murder charges.”

  Murder! Blood drained from Allie’s head and she grabbed at Zeph’s arm for balance. “But—”

  “They tried to kill Rodriguez tonight.”

  “They—these two?” She choked out the words in a voice faint with shock. “These two?”

  She looked at the pile of Johnsons. Gone. “Zeph, they’re getting aw—”

  The roar of the old truck engine cut off her words as Lem and Pete barreled down the driveway into the night.

  Zeph ran for his car. “Call Monty. He’s got an APB out on them, but we can tell him which way they went.”

  Allie bolted after him. She leaped into the passenger seat as the car started to roll. “I’ll call from my cell. Which way did they go?”

  “East.”

  “Good. I’ll have phone coverage while we’re in town.” She dialed the sheriff’s office.

  “Thanks,” Zeph said when she’d finished. “I do not want them to get away. Especially if Rodriguez doesn’t make it.”

  “If—oh, poor Mabel,” Allie said. “We have to let her know.”

  “Later.”

  She shot a glance at Zeph’s grim face and shuddered. The warrior wouldn’t stop until he’d caught up with the Johnsons.

  The town had flashed past in less than a minute, and the turnoff to their surveillance site, Wend’s ranch, and the road to the reservoir. “There,” she exclaimed. “That must be their truck.”

  She wouldn’t have believed the Porsche could go faster, but when the road straightened a bit, it leaped forward like a race horse out of the gate, closing on the slower truck.

  “We’ve got them now,” Zeph said with satisfaction. “They’ll never get away.”

  “How are you going to stop them?”

  “Don’t have to. I’ll just stay on their tail until Monty gets the Highway Patrol on the job. Or until that clunker blows up. The engine can’t keep up this speed for long.”

  The road went straight for a mile, past the Peterson’s ranch. The Johnson’s truck labored past the ranch house just as Peterson’s dog rushed out to bark. The truck faltered for a second as it hit him, then chugged up the next hill.

  “No!” Allie shouted. “They hit—what are you doing?”

  Zeph braked to a stop and backed up past where the dog lay on the side of the road so the headlights shone on the unmoving animal.

  Allie jumped out and ran to the dog. After a brief examination, she turned to Zeph. “Maybe,” she said in response to his silent question. “Go up to the house and get someone out here with something to carry him on and a truck.”

  Two hours later, Anders Peterson had headed back to his ranch to break the news to his family, and Allie and Zeph sat with the sedated dog, waiting for it to regain consciousness.

  “I can’t believe you did that,” she said. “He would have died if you hadn’t, but...you let the Johnsons go. Why...?”

  Zeph took her hand. “For you. I knew you couldn’t stand leaving the dog there, not knowing.”

  She knew then. He wouldn’t, couldn’t do such a thing unless he cared. “They’ll get caught,” she said through the emotion clogging her throat. “You got Wend arrested on drug charges. And saved me. Twice. But it still doesn’t seem like you’ve—I mean—well, what about your case?”

  Zeph sighed. “Yeah. That’s the question, isn’t it? I just hope to hell Monty finds something in Rodriguez’s house.”

  ****

  “Morning, Monty,” Zeph said when he walked into the sheriff’s office at eight o’clock. “How’s Rodriguez?”

  “Damn hospital says he’s stable, but they won’t let me near him until tomorrow or the next day. Damn doctors. And we didn’t find a damn thing at his place. I brought in his cell phone and a desk calendar, but I don’t have much hope. The good news is that one of Jed Huskins’s boys picked up the Johnsons last night.” He waved toward the cell block. “They’re back there in a cell, right where they belong.”

  “They talking?”

  Monty shook his head. “Clammed up like—well, like a couple a clams. Won’t say a word. Hawkins brought their truck in last night and we’ve just about tore it apart this morning. Didn’t find the gun. Nothin’ except dirty laundry, dirtier magazines, and a few joints.”

  “Figures.”

  “Funny, they acted like they expected us to find something. Kept yelling that anybody could have planted anything in the vehicle while it was at the station.”

  “Yeah, right. I’m sure Stone’s Crossing is full of people running around in the middle the night waiting for an opportunity to plant something in that piece of junk.” He shrugged. “As long as they’re off Allie’s property. And away from her.”

  “Damn lowlife, hittin’ her like that. How is she this morning?”

  “She’s fine. Hannah’s there, and I’m going to the clinic after—let’s take another crack at Lem and Pete before they get lawyered up.

  Monty smiled.

  Not a nice smile, Zeph noted with anticipation.

  “My pleasure. We better hurry. They called some high-powered scum-sucker fro
m Sacramento and he’s on his way here. That tells me whoever hired them is big time.”

  And then there was one…Mentrine. If Rodriguez was innocent, as it appeared, Zeph’s list had narrowed considerably. He’d known from the get-go that something was fishy about the man. “Probably a waste of time trying to get them to talk, but...”

  “We can only try,” Monty said. He set a box on the table in front of Zeph. “These are the personal possessions they had when we brought them in.”

  Zeph sifted through a few receipts for food and gas. “Nothing interesting here.” He picked up the phone and paged through the call history, noting the numbers, dates, and times in his notebook. “You trace any of these numbers?”

  “I asked the phone company. They take forever to produce answers, but Bartelett’s daughter works there. She’s gonna send a preliminary as soon as possible. Won’t be worth anything but her job in court, but—” The fax machine in the outer office spit out a couple of pages and he jumped to get them. He brought it back, and Zeph leaned in to read.

  “Damn. Most of these are throw-away phones,” Zeph said. “But this one. It’s—”

  “Mentrine,” Monty finished. He and Zeph exchanged glances.

  “He has a black 911.”

  Monty’s expression drooped. “Not like yours then.”

  “Like enough in the dark.” Zeph thought for a minute. “If he came up here last night, he might have taken anything he thought might incriminate him from the Johnson’s truck. Or else he doesn’t want them to look guilty for fear they’ll roll. In any case, he’d be pretty late getting home. I wonder...” He grabbed his own phone and dialed.

  “What?” Monty asked.

  “Fitzgerald.” When he had Frank on the phone, he explained the situation. “Can you get someone out to Mentrine’s ASAP. Find out if Mentrine had that car out last night? Maybe find something that says he came up here?”

  “Good thinking,” Monty said when Zeph had hung up.

  “Let’s go talk to our boys and see if we can loosen their tongues,” Zeph said.

  Chapter 16

  “Monty shook them up good when he said Mentrine’s name,” Zeph told Allie when he arrived at the clinic. “And then whoever was supposed to come bail them out sent a new associate, a baby lawyer. When he started hemming and hawing, they rolled over like trained circus dogs.”

  “They had to be nuts to think they could hide out in my barn.”

  “They’re not the brightest bulbs on the Christmas tree. They were sent here to get rid of the cell phone Mentrine gave Rodriguez. Mentrine didn’t want any calls traceable to him. We figure he decided they weren’t to be trusted and planned to get rid of all three of them at once. Make it look like they took each other out.”

  “Chaz is really the bad guy?” Allie asked in a faint voice. She’d never guessed. All the times she’d visited his ranch, doctored his horses, and she’d never had the slightest idea.

  “Yep. Frank sent someone out to Mentrine’s and caught the chauffeur just starting to wash the car. It was covered with mud that’s going to match what’s behind Rodriguez’s barn or I’ll eat it. And,” he paused. “And there was a cell phone in the car that showed calls to Rodriguez over the last six months. Mentrine’s nailed.”

  “And Santos?”

  “Out of intensive care and cleared of suspicion. Mentrine was calling him, all right, and giving him messages he said were from Blanton. And Rodriguez wasn’t supposed to let your father know, and so on.”

  “So it’s all over?”

  “Pretty much. Frank’s people can deal with Hunnewill’s involvement. If any. I’d say it’s all over.”

  “And you’ll be leaving.”

  His face froze. “I have to go back to the office,” he said quietly.

  “Of course. Well.” She took a breath and pretended her heart wasn’t breaking. “Good job. When are you leaving?”

  “After lunch. But first...” He led her to the big window that looked out over the rolling hills behind the clinic, to the mountains beyond. “I want to—”

  The room shook, the floor heaving under her feet. Allie grabbed Zeph’s arm to keep her balance.

  “Earthquake,” he said, jerking her away from the window and crossing the room to stand by the door.

  “Don’t—” she began.

  “Run outside. I know. Not ’til it’s over.”

  After a few tense minutes, when nothing more happened, he said, “I guess one sharp shock was it.”

  “For now,” she said. “I’m going to check my patients.” The three cats in recovery cages had a spooked look that she could relate to. “I hate earthquakes, too,” she told them, distributing enough cuddling to calm them.

  “What about Promise?” Zeph asked suddenly.

  Allie headed for the corrals. He followed and Promise trotted over to nuzzle him as soon as he reached her pen. “She’s okay, isn’t she?” he asked.

  Allie nodded and turned to look at the barn. “I think I’ve been very lucky,” she said. “I’m going up the hill to look around.”

  From the top of the hill, Allie saw only a serene and undisturbed scene. A herd of horses grazed unconcernedly in the distance. She looked toward town and saw rubble where Blanton’s cabins had been. “Guess he did an even worse job than I thought.”

  “Do we need to worry about utilities down there? Gas? No point in letting a fire get started.”

  “Electricity’s off, so’s water, and propane was never delivered. I think they’re—” She broke off and stared at a hollow between their hill and the remnants of the cabins. “That’s weird. Let’s drive over there and take a look.”

  Where pasture land sloped up to meet foothills, a pool of water spread into a small depression. The water steamed slightly in the cold air. “It’s a hot spring, Zeph,” she said.

  “A hot spring.”

  At the odd note in his voice, she looked at him, surprising an expression of vulnerability on his face. He looked almost...defeated.

  “Good for your rehab center, I guess,” he said.

  “Very good, indeed. And if I can get the land these ex-cabins are on— Well, that’s all in the future. For now, it’s beautiful. Look at how crisp and clear the air is, and everything’s all powdered with snow. It looks like a Christmas card.

  Zeph put his arm around her. “It does. And I know what I want for Christmas. Allie.”

  “What’s that?”

  He pulled back and looked down at her. “You.”

  “You’re coming back up here for Christmas? You’re welcome, of course.”

  “I want you to come to Los Angeles.” He pulled a small, dark blue velvet box out of his pocket. “I love you. I want you to marry me, Allie.”

  Her heart did a triple axel. Yes. Yes, yes, yes.

  “We have horses in Los Angeles,” he went on. “You could—”

  Los Angeles. The thought of it almost stopped her soaring heart. She couldn’t. Couldn’t go there. Couldn’t give up Zeph. Couldn’t— The words she couldn’t frame came out as a hoarse croak.

  “Allie?”

  She took a deep breath and ignored the tears burning at the back of her eyes. “I can’t. It would kill me to live there, Zeph,” she whispered. “When I looked out your living room window, all I saw was sickly brown air like a blanket of despair pressing down on wall-to-wall houses marching from ocean to mountains. Look at this.” She waved a hand at the scene below them.

  “Norman Rockwell,” he said. “Real life isn’t like that.”

  “Mine is,” she said quietly.

  He shifted and she saw anger in his eyes. “I love you. Doesn’t that mean anything?”

  “Of course it does. More than you’ll ever know. And I love you, too. But—”

  “So what the hell are we going to do? You think I’m going to move to East Bumfuck and spend the rest of my life watching television and drinking Boone’s Farm?”

  She looked at him for a quiet eternity. “No, I don’t,” she
said quietly. “But I can’t leave Stone’s Crossing. I love you so much, I’d do it for you, even though I’d hate it. It’s not just the city. I can’t leave my father. When he had that heart attack last summer and I flew to New York without knowing if he’d be alive when I got there—I can’t.”

  The look on his face when he finally believed her tore at her heart. She looked away and smeared the tears she couldn’t stop with her sleeve and repeated, “I can’t.” His gaze burned into her, as if he willed her to change her mind, followed by a sudden chill as he turned and walked away, leaving her alone.

  ****

  “Thanks, Wentworth. For everything.” Zeph shook hands and dropped a kiss on his mother’s cheek. “You’re really staying here until Thanksgiving?”

  “Yes, dear. Lincoln’s been nice enough to ask me and I—”

  “Bye, Mother.”

  He bolted down the stairs before she hit full speed and started asking about Allie. Misery waited to pounce on him and he wanted to be well away from everyone before that happened.

  He zipped his sheepskin-lined jacket and climbed into the Carrera. One thing he wouldn’t miss was the cold here. While he drove into town, careful of the icy patches, past Betty’s diner—another blip of loss, he should say goodbye to Betty, too, she’d been a good friend—to Monty’s office, he tried to concentrate on getting his life back. On the good times ahead. This wasn’t goodbye. He’d see Allie again. Lots of couples managed long-distance relationships. No reason to feel like the ground had fallen out from under him.

  He strode through the dingy reception area in the sheriff’s department, boots ringing on the no-color linoleum, and tapped on Monty’s open office door.

  A pang of guilt hit him when Monty’s face brightened. “C’mon in. How’s the home-town hero today?” Monty got to his feet and gave Zeph a hearty handshake that made him feel even more like a first-class jerk.

  Zeph had to clear his throat before he could speak. “I’m no hero.”