Capsized

by Sharon Sala

  “Where was he when this happened, Mrs. Weatherly?”

  “Oh, at that awful bar he goes to. I’ve told him and told him that he needs to stay away from lowlifes like the people there. Now see what’s happened? I’m just sick about it, you know. I don’t drive anymore, and I can’t even go see him.”

  “Okay, Mrs. Weatherly. Thank you for the information.”

  “You find out who did this to him, won’t you? You are a Ranger like Daryl, right?”

  “Yes, ma’am, that I am. And I can assure you this won’t go unpunished.”

  Quinn hung up, then threw his phone across the room. It hit the back of a chair, then dropped into the cushioned seat. Within seconds, Kelly was off the bed and grabbing his arm.

  “What? For God’s sake, talk to me! What happened?”

  “Daryl was life-flighted to Houston Medical. His neighbor said he was badly beaten.”

  Kelly felt sick. “It’s because of me, isn’t it?”

  “We don’t know that,” Quinn said. “And even if it is, it’s not your fault. It’s that son of a bitch drug runner.”

  “You need to leave. Go be with Daryl. I can rent a car and get myself to D.C. or call my captain. Either way, you’re off the hook.”

  Quinn gripped her shoulders with both hands, his voice shaking with anger.

  “I’m not going anywhere but with you,” he said.

  Kelly retrieved Quinn’s phone, checked to see if it was still in one piece, then handed it to him.

  “Fine, but call Houston first and check on Daryl.”

  Quinn’s hand was shaking as he took the phone. Instead of making the call, he sat down on the side of the bed and dropped his head.

  Kelly slid onto the bed beside him, then laid her hand on his thigh.

  “What’s wrong?”

  When Quinn looked up, there were tears in his eyes.

  “I guess I’m scared he won’t be able to answer.”

  Kelly sighed. “One thing at a time, McCord. Just make the call.”

  Chapter 5

  “Houston Medical. How may I direct your call?”

  “Daryl Connelly’s room, please.”

  “I’m sorry, sir. He’s in ICU. I’ll connect you with the nurses’ station.”

  ICU? Quinn’s stomach knotted. “Yes, thank you,” he said, and waited to be connected.

  “Fourth floor…ICU nurses’ station.”

  “Ma’am, my name is Quinn McCord. I’m with the Texas Rangers and inquiring about the status of retired Ranger Daryl Connelly.”

  “He’s critical, but stable.”

  “Is there anyone who can tell me what happened to him? Was he robbed? Did he—”

  “I’m sorry, sir. We don’t have that kind of information. There was a police officer who gave his name to be contacted as next of kin.”

  Quinn frowned. “Mr. Connelly doesn’t have any next of kin.”

  “But I’m sure that—”

  “No, ma’am. I’ve known him most of my life, and he’s never married. He has no living relatives…anywhere. Do you have the officer’s name?”

  “You need to talk to the doctor. I can’t give out that kind of information.”

  “All I’m asking for is the name of the police officer on record. That’s not privileged information, and you and I both know it.”

  There was a long moment of silence. Then Quinn could hear some whispered conversation in the background, but the nurse wasn’t talking. Just when he thought she’d disconnected, she came back on the line.

  “Yes, well, all right. His name is Travis. Will Travis.”

  Suddenly all the panic Quinn had been feeling dissipated. He knew Will Travis. The hospital must have taken the information down wrong. Whatever was going on, Will would have Daryl’s best interests at heart.

  “May I please have his contact number?”

  Quinn wrote quickly as she rattled off the number, then disconnected. The moment he was off the phone, Kelly grabbed his arm.

  “Quinn…talk to me.”

  “Daryl is in ICU. He’s critical but stable.”

  “Do we know what happened? And please tell me it has nothing to do with me.”

  “I wish I could, but right now I can’t, because I don’t know. However, I’ve got another call to make. There’s a cop who came in with him. Maybe I’ll know something more after I talk to him.”

  “I shouldn’t have stayed. I should have let my captain come get me that first day,” Kelly said, then looked away.

  Her eyes were wide and swimming with tears, but there was a jut to her jaw that told him she would be a fierce enemy if crossed.

  “Yeah, good thinking,” Quinn said. “And if you had, there’s a good chance someone would already be planning your funeral.”

  “Better mine than Daryl’s.”

  Quinn laid down the phone and then cupped her face with his hands. Kelly twisted away, but he caught her again.

  “Look at me, damn it!”

  Kelly turned, meeting his gaze without flinching.

  “You don’t have to like this, but I’m going to say it. What you’re doing matters to all of us. Illegal drugs are, in their own way, as dangerous as bombs. We’re in a war, honey, and you’re on the front line. If Daryl and I got involved, it was because we wanted to.” Then he took a deep breath, his voice softening. “And I’m still in this with you, because, frankly, you’re driving me crazy. I slept beside you for three nights and wanted to hold you in my arms instead of hugging my side of the bed. You’re smart and you’re funny, and I think about you far more than I should. Selfishly, that means I want to keep you alive and in one piece.”

  Kelly was speechless. It was the last thing she’d expected him to say, and yet it echoed something in her that she’d been trying to deny.

  “I don’t know if I can match those wonderful words, but I do know that I am profoundly grateful you were fishing the day I washed up on the beach.” Then she laid her hand on the flat of his chest, feeling the steady, rhythmic beat of his heart. “Having only these few days on which to base my feelings for you, you come across as hardheaded, single-minded and something of a wiseass. However, I was always partial to macho-type Texans with dark eyes and nice buns.”

  Quinn grinned as he took her in his arms.

  “So…we finally agree on something,” he said softly, as he traced the arch of her eyebrows with the tip of his finger.

  Kelly shivered as his mouth brushed her lips. Then his hand slid beneath her hair. He cupped the back of her head, pulling her closer until there was nothing between them but heat. The kiss went on and on, until Kelly felt as if this time she was truly drowning and she was ready to let it happen.

  But it was Quinn who was the first to pull back.

  “Hold that thought,” he said. “I’ve got to call Will Travis. He might know something we need to know, and the last thing we can let ourselves do is lose focus. It could get you killed.”

  “Right,” Kelly said, then handed him his phone.

  But she was shaking as she waited for him to call the other number. If Quinn hadn’t stopped, they would have been rolling naked on the bed. If someone had told her she would so easily fall into bed with a man she’d just met, she would have called them a liar. Yet it was happening. She didn’t know whether to attribute it to a real and growing attraction between them, or chalk it up to being in such close quarters with a very sexy man. Either way, it would be only a matter of time before they made love.

  Quinn dialed the number the nurse had given him, then leaned over and kissed Kelly one more time as he waited for the call to be answered. He was admiring Kelly’s Cowgirls Do It In The Mud T-shirt when he heard a man’s voice in his ear.

  “This is Travis.”

  Quinn quickly shifted focus.

  “Travis…this is Ranger Quinn McCord. Daryl Connelly introduced us a couple of years ago at his barbeque, remember?”

  “Yeah, yeah, McCord. I’ve been expecting your call.”

 
“What?”

  “I’m assuming you know about Daryl or you wouldn’t have this number. Daryl couldn’t do much talking when they found him. He was beat all to hell. But as soon as he recognized me, he started saying the same thing over and over. ‘Tell Quinn that it’s up to two mil and I didn’t tell.’ Does that mean anything to you?”

  “Jesus,” Quinn muttered. “Yeah, it means something. Put round-the-clock guards on the old man and don’t let anyone in that room except authorized personnel.”

  “What the hell’s going on?” Travis asked.

  “Does the name Dominic Ortega mean anything to you?”

  There was a brief silence, then a heavy exhaled sigh.

  “Oh, yeah. How did Daryl get mixed up with him?”

  “He knows something that could get him killed. Just keep him alive, okay?”

  “I’ll do my best. Is there anything else I can do from this end?”

  Quinn glanced at Kelly, then said, “Can you hang on a minute?”

  “Sure,” Travis said.

  Quinn covered the receiver, then looked at Kelly.

  “It was Ortega. He found out about Daryl, which has to mean he knows about me, too. I don’t know how, but—”

  “The motel,” Kelly said. “Ask your friend if there’ve been any disturbances at the motel where you were staying.”

  Quinn eyed her curiously. “Did anyone ever tell you that you’re real good at what you do?”

  “Yes.”

  Quinn returned to the phone. “Travis, can you check and see if there’ve been any disturbances at the Sea Gull Inn?”

  “What does that have to do with—”

  “Just do it. I’ll hold, okay?”

  “It may take a few minutes. Why don’t I call you back?”

  “I’ll hold,” Quinn said.

  “It’s your nickel,” Travis said, and put the call on hold.

  “What’s happening?” Kelly said.

  “He’s checking out your theory, and for what it’s worth, it’s a damn good one.” Then he began to pace. “You know…the only way Ortega’s people would be looking for me is if the men on that boat had gotten my tag number. They had no reason to assume you were with me, and yet they took the number…just in case. I’m thinking they’re just eliminating the suspects, so to speak, in their search to find you. More thorough than I would have guessed.”

  “Ortega isn’t a man who likes failure.” Then she got up from the bed and began to pace. “I can’t believe Ortega isn’t dead. I buried that knife in his chest up to the hilt.” She spun, her face twisted with anger. “How come the bad guys are the hardest to kill? Tell me that, Quinn. How come?”

  Before Quinn could answer, Will Travis came back on the line.

  “Okay, you were right, and there’s a connection to Daryl in here. Yesterday evening the manager, a guy named Charlie Warden, was accosted by two Latino men who were looking for a man named McCord, who was driving a black Dodge truck. One man was claiming to be your brother. Said there was a family emergency with your mother and he needed to contact you. The manager wouldn’t give out any information and kept telling them that you had checked out and he had no idea where you went. Then it got ugly. They threatened to kill him. Wanted to know if you’d had any visitors or if you left alone when you checked out.”

  “What did he tell them?” Quinn asked.

  “Said he didn’t see anyone with you, but that he’d seen a guy come in a couple of times who wasn’t registered. As bad luck would have it, he recognized Daryl and told them they could talk to him down at the Baytown Bar. That’s where Daryl was found, so I’m guessing the men found him and tried to beat information out of him.”

  “Goddamn it,” Quinn muttered.

  “What is it?” Travis asked. “What are these men looking for?”

  “Let’s just say a witness and leave it at that.”

  “Okay. It’s your call. This has put a new slant on the incident for us. We’ll be questioning Charlie Warden to get a description of those men. Maybe we can find them before they find you.”

  “That would be good, but I doubt they’re the only ones on my trail.”

  “What do you mean?” Travis asked.

  “That two mil? It’s million, as in money, and it’s what Ortega will pay to get what I have.”

  Travis whistled softly beneath his breath.

  “Man, I would not want to be in your shoes.”

  Quinn looked across the bed at Kelly and then slowly smiled.

  “Oh, I don’t know about that. Things are looking real good from where I’m at.”

  There was a moment of silence; then Travis chuckled.

  “A woman. It’s got to be a woman. Am I right?”

  “I’ve got to go, Travis. Just make sure to keep guards on Daryl until you hear different from me, and when he comes to, tell him he did good.”

  “You got it,” Travis said. “Let me know if I can be of any further help.”

  “I will, and thanks,” Quinn said, then hung up.

  “We’re in trouble, aren’t we?” Kelly said.

  “You were right,” Quinn said. “They saw my truck at the beach, but so far, I don’t think they have any real proof that we’re together. However, upping the bounty on you to two million is serious. Are you sure you don’t want the DEA or the Federal prosecutor’s office to bring you in?”

  “Hell no,” she said. “They obviously know I’m alive, and since they didn’t find it out from the desk clerk or from Daryl, then someone else tipped them off. That means there’s either a mole in my office or in the Federal prosecutor’s office. You think I’m going to trust them to keep me safe when someone from inside is feeding Ortega information?”

  “Okay, I see your point,” Quinn said. “So where do we go from here?”

  “I need to stay out of sight until the day of the trial. If I show up beforehand and try to barricade myself in some hotel or safe house, I’m dead. But if I make my appearance at the courthouse on the day of the trial, they won’t have time to make the hit. If you’re still set on staying with me through this, then we’ve got to ditch your truck, and I’ve got to change my appearance.”

  “I can handle the truck business,” Quinn said.

  “I need some money,” Kelly said. “Damn it, if only I dared access my checking account.”

  “Look, I’m good for whatever you need,” Quinn said. “I have a pocket full of cash and traveler’s checks.”

  Kelly frowned as he pulled out a wad of bills. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s not safe to travel with a lot of money?”

  “Don’t like ATMs,” Quinn said.

  “Lucky me,” Kelly said. “Can you part with a couple hundred dollars?”

  “Here,” he said, handing her a wad of bills. “Knock yourself out.”

  “Are you always this generous with your money?” Kelly asked.

  “No,” Quinn said, then picked up his car keys and grinned. “But you forget, I’ve seen you naked.”

  Kelly eyed the smirk on his face, then looked him up and down.

  “And the favor was returned, remember?”

  Quinn pointed at her. “We’ll continue this conversation as soon as I get back with a new ride. Then we’ll go shopping for a new look.”

  “I can do that while you’re getting a different car.”

  Quinn frowned. “Please, Kelly, wait for me to get back, okay?”

  “Look, Quinn, be reasonable. The sooner this all takes place, the better. Go. I’ll be here when you get back.”

  “I don’t like this,” Quinn said.

  “I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time,” Kelly said. “Trust me when I tell you I can handle Wal-Mart alone a lot better than going into the Ortega organization by myself.”

  “Yeah, okay, I get your point,” Quinn said. “But don’t forget to pay attention to who’s around you. I don’t think we were followed, but there’s no way to know for sure.”

  “Go,” Kelly said. “I’ll
see you soon.”

  Quinn hesitated, then took her in his arms. “How about one for the road?”

  “One what, McCord?” Kelly asked, then wrapped her arms around his neck and let nature take its course.

  The feel of his mouth on her lips was staggering. The kiss was hard—demanding—then urgent. The tension of trying to stay alive was being translated into a powerful lust.

  Quinn groaned as he tore himself away from her.

  “Why do I feel like I just got offered a bite of the apple?”

  “I’ve been called a lot of things, but never a temptress,” Kelly said. “Trust me, I’m no Eve, and this is certainly not the Garden of Eden.”

  Quinn sighed. “I’m going to get rid of my truck.”

  “And I’m going to get rid of Kelly Sloan,” Kelly said.

  “Don’t lose too much of her,” Quinn said. “I’m pretty partial to her the way she is.”

  Kelly touched Quinn’s cheek with the back of her hand in a gentle, stroking motion.

  “I won’t lose her, I promise. I just want to hide her for a while.”

  * * *

  Tuskeegee had no rental cars, which had put a dent in Quinn’s plan to change rides. But then he’d seen an advertisement for a paint and body shop on a sign in a vacant lot and made an adjustment to the plan. His truck was now in Little Ed’s Paint and Body Shop on a rush job, and Little Ed, who weighed somewhere near three hundred pounds, was putting red and orange flames from front to back on both sides and had talked Quinn into a three-foot decal of the Confederate flag on the hood. Added to that was a six-inch lift kit to accommodate the forty-four-inch Gumbo Monster Mudder tires Little Ed had talked him into adding to the package. The tires, which would normally cost several hundred dollars apiece, were so cheap Quinn figured they were hot, but at this point, who was he to argue? He needed to disguise his truck, and if a paint job and some stolen tires did the job, then so be it. Kelly was worth it. And for an extra hundred dollars, Little Ed was trading the license tag on Quinn’s truck for one off a car that had been totaled. Quinn admired Little Ed’s initiative and thanked him for the rush job on the truck. By this time tomorrow, they would be on their way out of town and virtually untraceable.