by Cindy Skaggs
Camy bit the tip off her thumbnail. Her brother was currently chewing her ass, which was his default mode with any of the sisters.
“What do you mean you’re in El Paso?”
That was complicated. She glanced at the boy on the computer who typed faster than most people could think. He moved his hand in a tight circle. Keep him talking. “You weren’t answering phone calls. The letters we sent came back undeliverable, so Mom and the rest of the girls elected me to come find you.”
“Find me? Stay the hell away. And why aren’t you in school?”
That was a subject for another day. Preferably never. “I need to see you.” She even added a little please at the end.
“I’m getting ready to leave on a deployment.” The stress in his high-pitched voice was off the charts. Not an emotion she recognized in her brother.
“If you’re leaving on a deployment, why do the people on base say you’re discharged?”
“You went to base?” He mumbled what might have been curses into the phone. “Stay put, you hear me? Do. Not. Move. I’ll call you back in ten minutes.”
He clicked off without warning.
Camy glanced at the boy on the laptop. A wicked grin lifted his normally serious features. He straightened his glasses. “Got him.”
Rose walked into Debi’s office like a charging bull. “Time’s up.”
She jumped to her feet. “What’s wrong?”
“My dumbass sister followed me to El Paso. Anything besides those boxes that you need loaded?”
She clicked the laptop closed. “My computer—”
“Not happening. You heard Fowler. No electronics in or out. Leave your cell phone, your laptop. You can pay bills online. We’ll find a secure computer.” He bent down to hoist the large box she’d had Frank pull from storage. “Let’s go.”
The rush inherent in his attitude stole her breath. “You go. Load these. I’ll come out with the last box.”
“Do not lift anything,” he ordered.
Once he was out the door, she forced a deep breath. Focused on the way his voice had sounded when he’d talked her down from the panic attack last time. Deep inhale. Count. Exhale. Her hand shook as she grabbed the USB drive with all her financial records. The anticipation of something bad happening was nearly as frightening as something bad actually happening, but when Rose came back for the last box, she was ready to go. They stopped at the bar where Frank was pouring one of the regulars another beer.
“Hey, Frank,” she called, but he didn’t hear her above the country music. She walked around the bar with Rose on her heels. “Hey, Frank,” she repeated.
This time, he and the customer both looked up.
“Hey,” Wade said. “If it isn’t my favorite bartender. Looks like you’re on the injured reserve list.”
Debi ignored the affable drunk who flirted with any female within a ten-yard radius, but Wade tried to intercept. Practiced at avoidance, she skirted a bar table and ended on the other side closer to the bar manager.
Wade shoved into Rose, because he was either inebriated or had a death wish. Rose waved him off like an annoying insect.
Wade pushed back. “Watch where you’re going, asshole.”
Fabulous. Picking a fight with a man the size of a Humvee was about as stupid as you could get. How much had the rancher had to drink? One more thing to mention to Frank, because the cowboy was getting more territorial over the bar and its inhabitants than was strictly healthy. She moved closer so she didn’t have to yell over the music. “Frank, I’ll be gone for awhile. If you need anything, send an email.”
She leaned closer to talk to him about the problem customer when Wade slammed into Rose, knocking the box and its contents clattering to the ground. “That better not be my microscope.”
Rose crossed his arms over his chest, a move that spoke volumes about how much he’d like to pound Wade into the ground, but he held back. The anger that was an ever-present side effect remained banked, but for how long was anyone’s guess. Another reason to leave quickly.
Debi leaned over to check the contents of the box. Notebooks spilled onto the floor, and she had to dig to see what else was damaged. A few broken petri dishes. Jerk.
Wade crowded closer, and when she ignored his presence, he reached down and rubbed his palm over her ass. She didn’t have time to react.
“That’s it.” Rose’s voice sounded more resigned than angry.
Debi glanced up to see Rose clock Wade. One hit and the cowboy dropped.
“What the hell? You can’t hit one of my customers.” Although—and she’d deny it until she died—she was happy to see Wade lying prone. He had groped and offended every waitress who ever worked for her.
“No man has a right to touch a woman without permission. Period.” An angry red flush climbed Rose’s face. “Now move. Get your ass in the truck.”
“River Rose, is that any way to speak to a woman?” A petite blonde stepped closer to the bar. She looked like an elf with hair in a cute pixie cut and silver hoop earrings dangling from her ears.
“Camellia.” The horror in his voice was matched by the slack-jawed horror on his face. “I told you to stay put.”
“If you were looking for obedience you should have called Lily.” She marched forward with a beauty pageant smile and offered her hand to Debi. “Hi, I’m Camy.”
Debi introduced herself, reached out and shook the other woman’s hands, a little dumbfounded by the ball of energy that seemed to light up the bar around her. “Did you just call him River?”
“What else would I call him?”
Indeed. “The list is long, but I’m partial to Rosie.”
“Sure, that’s a natural.” Camy sat down on a bar stool and faced Frank, who had been mesmerized from the moment Camy walked in. “Can I get a draft?”
Debi and Ryder spoke at the same time.
“Are you even old enough?”
“We’re not staying.”
Camy folded the square napkin Frank had already placed in front of her. She nodded her head toward Wade. “What’s with the dead guy?”
“He’s not dead.” At least Debi hoped not, and he was going to be mad as hell when he woke up. Maybe he’d find another hangout. “Your brother clocked him.”
“Act first and ask questions later.” Camy took a long drink of the beer Frank placed in front of her. “Sounds like River, although he’s usually too controlled to deck someone. That implies an emotional connection.”
Rose moved the beer away. “Get your ass back in your car and go home. To college. Wherever the hell you’re supposed to be right now.”
“Definitely not college. I quit last semester.”
“You did what?” Rose roared, but he turned to the door when a shadow moved.
A man stepped into the room carrying a chip on his shoulder. As tall as Rose but not as wide, the man blocked the sunlight from the entry way, and the energy flowing off him promised he was as deadly as any of the men from Team Fear. Rose had his gun out before Debi could blink. The men stared at each other for a long minute. Debi focused on her breath. Her bar was not the site for the next mass shooting.
Camy pulled her draft closer and sucked it back. With a last gulp, she slammed the empty onto the bar. She had obviously excelled at drinking in school, which was probably why she hadn’t finished.
Frank reached for the phone, but Debi placed a hand over his. Whatever trouble this new guy represented, she didn’t want the police called. Rose could handle it, as long as he asked questions first.
Camy spun on the barstool until she noticed the man in the entry. “Oh, hey, Dean.”
“You know this guy?” Debi asked.
“Sure. We picked him up hitchhiking outside of Ames, Iowa.”
“Stills, you lousy mother—” Rose swallowed the curse and moved in like he wanted to deck the new guy. “You stalked my sister?”
“You weren’t answering your phone. I figured she’d find a way to reach you, and wh
en she headed to Texas, I knew she’d reach you before I did.”
“We’re radio silent. And for the record, you told us to fuck off, so we don’t owe you a damn thing.”
“Changed my mind, but we’ve got bigger issues right now.”
Debi eased closer. Maybe she wanted to eavesdrop. Maybe she needed to plant herself between two adversaries. The men knew each other, but that didn’t mean Rose wouldn’t strike, and she couldn’t afford another fight in the bar. Frank was one wrong move from calling the cops, and they would have to explain Wade and this other guy. Assuming Rose hit him, which looked likely by the bunched fists and glare. Stills, as Rose called him, leaned back with his hands on his hips like he had nothing better to do than pick a fight with a man the size of a tank. The flush on Rose’s face suggested he’d be happy to give him one.
Debi slid between the two men. “Gentlemen, let’s discuss this somewhere more private.”
Rose bodily lifted her—careful not to touch her injury—and moved her behind him. “Do not walk into the middle of a fight. You own a bar. You should know better.”
Camy stepped up and smacked Rose on the arm. “Mama raised you better than that. You don’t order a woman around like—”
“I’m ordering you, Camellia Marie Rose, to get in your car and head back to Iowa before I put your skinny ass on a bus.”
Stills whistled a high-pitched note until they all turned to him. “Fight later, move now. Your sister picked up a tail when she started asking questions.”
Rose straightened and turned back to Stills. Everything about his demeanor changed. His lips drew into a deep frown and his body seemed to grow, the muscles bulging through his shirt. “How many?”
Chapter Eleven
“Two-man surveillance team. Camy was dropped by a friend, so no car. The tail stayed with the girl not the car. Good thing for you, my ride is out back. So if we can delay the bickering, I highly recommend we move out.”
Rose dialed his phone while he herded Debi and Camy away from the doors. “Echo is here. Bug out. We’ve got a ride. Rendezvous at the set point when you’re sure you got away clean.”
Debi veered toward the bar. “My box.” Before Rose could argue, she tossed the contents back inside. “Lab equipment is mission essential, remember.”
Rose brushed her aside and lifted it one handed while keeping the gun in his dominant hand.
“Bye, Frank. Sorry about the trash,” Debi said as she stepped over the cowboy. Debi led them through a dark hall to a back door.
Stills pulled a shotgun from his coat and chambered a round with a solid ker-clunk.
“Damn thing should have been chambered,” Rose said. Time mattered, and the difference between having a round chambered or not made a difference.
“I was in the car with your sister. Didn’t think I’d need it.”
“Wait, what? You had the shotgun in the car?” Camy yanked her arm from Rose’s grip. “Not cool, dude.”
“That’s why you don’t pickup hitchhikers.” Rose took point and stepped from the door. No movement. No shadows. The alley was clear except for a beater that looked older than dirt. Peeling green paint and rust. “Tell me this piece of shit isn’t yours.”
Stills cleared the car before opening the door to let Camy and Debi slide in the back. “Had to acquire it rather quickly from someone who wouldn’t report it stolen.”
“Drug dealer?”
“Don’t ask, don’t tell.”
Rose dropped the box in the deep trunk. “I don’t like it. Only two doors means it’s hard to get the women out in an emergency.”
“Not going to be a problem, because we’re not going to get caught.”
“He’s cranky because his truck is totaled,” Debi said.
“Not totaled.” Rose took a seat in the front and slammed the heavy metal door closed.
“May not be beautiful, but she’s fast. Guaranteed.”
Right. Stills had a way of exaggerating things, but he was damn good at acquisitions. At least there was plenty of legroom. Actually, the bucket seats were new and wrapped around him like a favored recliner. The dash gleamed and the carpet still had vacuum marks. Smelled perfumed, but other than that, it seemed like a decent ride.
Stills started the engine on a roar as loud as a jet taking off. The chrome gear shifted into drive and eased down the alley like a red carpet unfurled beneath the tires.
In the back, the women bonded over Camy’s shoes. Her presence was pretty much his worst nightmare. So far, Echo hadn’t gone after extended families, but Rose wasn’t taking any chances. He had friends watching over his sisters, and he stayed the hell away. After what happened with Maggie Madigan, Rose couldn’t bear to be around his family. If Echo knew about Camy, they’d exploit it. Hurt her to get to him.
They made it a block without a tail, but had to stop at a red light. Before the light turned green, a tall, thin man on a street corner raced toward them. “That’s my car, motherfucker—”
Stills ran the light, turned right from the left lane, the tires squealing over the man’s swearing. The car was in fifth gear and on the highway in record time. “Told you. A getaway car has to be fast.”
A chuckle came out of nowhere as the tension eased. “Stills, you dumbass, you stole that car from less than two blocks away.”
“Didn’t have much time.” Stills grinned. “I improvised.”
“Improvise, adapt, overcome. That’s the Marines, idiot.”
“I was a marine before I joined Team Fear.”
“No shit. How did I not know that?”
“Because you walk around in a cone of silence.”
Debi leaned between the bucket seats. “You got that right. I’m Debi, by the way. Thanks for the assist.”
“My pleasure. Camy didn’t tell me Rose had a woman.”
They both answered. “Oh, I’m not...”
“We’re not together.”
“Right.” Stills let the word hang, but neither picked it up to fill the silence. Finally, he shrugged. “Someone want to tell me what we’re running from?”
“Boredom,” Camy answered with a bright smile.
Debi shook her head. “My past.”
Rose frowned. Neither woman belonged in Team Fear’s problems, but Echo knew about Debi’s ranch and her bar. No way could he leave her without Echo using her. Now Camy was in the same position. He wanted her the hell away from the fire that was about to rain down, but sending her home would lead Echo right back to the rest of his sisters. “Camy, call Mom. Tell her you found me. I’m leaving on a deployment and you’re heading back to school.”
“You want me to lie?”
“Did you tell her you quit college?”
“No.”
“So you already lied. Pick up the phone and dial before we have to toss it.” Where they were going, there were no phones. The cone of silence was a very real thing. It was the only way to protect the team and separate them from those they loved. Anyone close to them was a target. While Camy sweet-talked their mother via telephone, Rose gave Stills the lowdown. “The plan was for you to join Santiago’s team once you pulled your head out of your ass.”
“By the time I surfaced—”
“Where were you?”
“Me, a southern sweetie with a bottle of Jack, and an open playing field, given the fact that I was the only sober male able and willing to satisfy. When your bat signal came I was sitting down to...” He glanced back in the rearview mirror to make sure the women were occupied. “Two fine-looking females. By the time I surfaced, Santiago and team were so far underground I couldn’t get a scent. Sticking close to El Paso was a mistake,” Stills added. “If your teenage sister could find you—”
“First of all,” Camy interjected. “Not a teenager. Second, what I did wasn’t easy. I had an alarm setup for his ATM card, so when he used it, it flagged me and I was able to move closer. When he finally answered my call, all I needed was enough time to triangulate his position.”
Rose twisted to eye his sister. “Where did you learn to trace calls?”
She crossed her arms over her chest.
“Doesn’t matter,” Stills said when she didn’t answer. “Echo has access to that much and more.”
“That was a risk we were willing to take. We need cash, and we’re not coming back to El Paso, at least not until we have enough information to track down these assholes.”
“Where we headed?”
“Fowler won’t tell us, yet. In case...”
“In case Echo caught up with you.”
“Exactly. We’re meeting at a set point.” He glanced at his watch. “In an hour.” He pulled up a map on his cell phone. “Think you can get us here in an hour?”
“No problem.” Stills took the next exit at the speed of a racecar driver. “Hang on.”
They pulled into a dusty ranch as the sun dropped off the horizon. A rusted sign over the long, winding driveway read Mesquite Manor. Manor was a fancy name for big ass house on the prairie. The surrounding desert had burned away all but a few hardy patches of prairie grass and mesquite lined up on the ridge behind the house. The only thing blowing in the breeze was a row of wind turbines that gave off a high-pitched whine as they drove past.
Fowler waved them to the drive in front of the house to offload supplies. “Keep the computer stuff in the truck. Everything else goes in.”
Rose glanced in the back seat where Debi was sacked out and leaning on Camy’s shoulder. They’d had a hell of a day, and he’d forgotten to stay on top of the pain meds. Sleep was probably the best thing for her. He pushed the seat forward and reached back to lift her from the car. The slight weight of her didn’t slow down his climb up the grand steps to the wide front door. When she was awake it was easy to forget how delicate she was, because her personality made her seem sturdier, but she was breakable and in a situation way over her pay grade.
Camy watched the careful way he carried Debi, and a mischievous look passed over her elven features.
“Not a word,” he warned her.
Debi moaned when he shouldered through the front door. With a gasp, she started, jerking away from Rose. “It’s fine,” he assured her. “We’re here.”
