Smooth-Talking Texan

by Candace Camp

  Quinn hated paperwork. It was especially hard today, when his thoughts kept going back to Lisa and the way she had reacted to his marriage proposal. He had gone about it all wrong, he knew. He should not have sprung it on her like that. It was too soon in the relationship, no matter how sure he was of his own feelings.

  But he kept pulling his mind back from where it strayed and returning to the stack of work that had built up the past week. When the telephone rang, it was a welcome break.

  “Call for you on Line One, Sheriff,” Betty said. “I know you don’t want to be disturbed, but he said it was urgent. Would only speak to you.”

  “That’s okay, Betty,” Quinn said. “I’ll take it.”

  There was a click and a moment later a male voice came on the line, “Hello, Sheriff.”

  The voice was oddly muffled, and the back of Quinn’s neck prickled. “Yes. Who is this?”

  “Someone you don’t know. It’s not important. What’s important is the fact that you’ve got a certain friend of mine. And I have a certain friend of yours. I thought we could make a trade.”

  “What? Who? Tell me what you’re talking about.”

  “I think you know. And if you’re going to try to trace this phone, don’t bother. I’m talking on her cell phone.”

  “Her? Who are you talking about?” Fear was settling in Quinn’s stomach.

  “Guess.”

  “Lisa? Are you telling me that you have Lisa? Who the hell are you? Garza?”

  There was a low chuckle. “Man, you are full of questions. But I think you already know the answers to all of them.”

  “You want Benny.”

  “Give that man a prize.”

  “You think I’m actually going to give up a witness to you?”

  “If you don’t, the next time you see this lady, you’ll hardly recognize the corpse.”

  Quinn closed his eyes as cold swept through him.

  “How about it, man? You want to trade? Or shall I begin cutting?”

  “I want to talk to Lisa. I don’t believe you have her.”

  “Sure, man. I got nothing against that.”

  There was a moment’s silence, then Lisa came on the phone. She was struggling to sound calm and confident, but terror laced her voice, “Quinn? I’m sorry. He just walked into my office—”

  The man came back on the phone. “Convinced?”

  “Yes.” Quinn’s mind was racing.

  “So…we got a deal?”

  “You know I can’t turn over a prisoner to you.”

  “You will if you want to see this bitch again.”

  Quinn ground his teeth, trying to keep a hold on his temper. “Garza, be reasonable. We’ve already got you for drug-smuggling and murder. You really want to add kidnapping to the list?”

  Garza chuckled. “I’m looking at lethal injection already, man. You think kidnapping’s going to make me any deader?”

  “If you turn yourself in, we might be able to work out a deal. Think about it. You know things—you can name people. You could give us ten times more than Benny. You know you could.”

  “I’m not stupid. They aren’t going to let me walk for murder.”

  “The feds are interested, you know. They could take you right out of my hands. This is just a local case. You know they’d do it if they thought they could break up a big drug ring.”

  There was a long pause, and Quinn thought he had him, but then, with a tinge of regret, Garza replied, “Nah. Wouldn’t do me much good dead. I turn, and I’ll be dead years earlier than on Death Row.”

  “There’s protection, Garza.”

  His answer was a snort. “Yeah, right. Make up your mind, Sheriff. You trading Benny for your woman or am I going to pull the trigger right here?”

  “I’ll trade!” Quinn said quickly. “You know I will. But she better not be hurt in any way, or you’re a dead man.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  “I’ll meet you in an hour.”

  “Oh, no. I set the time and location, not you. You think I’m going to let you get snipers in place, you’re crazy.”

  “Snipers?” Quinn repeated in a tone of disbelief. “What do you think, I’ve got a SWAT team here? You’re not in San Antonio now, Garza. Where’d you want to meet, then? Are you still at her office?”

  “You think I’m nuts? No, we’re not at her office.” Garza hesitated.

  Quinn guessed that he was going over the places he knew in the area. Being an outsider, he wouldn’t know many.

  “There’s an old warehouse by the railroad tracks here in Angel Eye,” Quinn suggested. “It’s deserted.”

  “I don’t want no buildings around. I told you that.”

  “Then how about an open field? No buildings for snipers to hide in, if I had any snipers. How about where the John Doe was dumped? Empty field. No place for anybody to hide. And you know how to get there.”

  “Just you and me. You don’t bring nobody else. “Cept Benny. I’ll bring the girl.”

  “Agreed.”

  “But I want it now. Not in an hour.”

  “It’ll take a while to sign him out of jail,” Quinn pointed out. “You’ve got to give me at least half an hour.”

  “Half an hour. You be there or your lady friend is dead.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  Lisa sat scrunched up against her side of the car. Her hands were cuffed in front of her in her lap; the key was in Garza’s pocket. She glanced over at the man driving the car. Garza was tense and jittery, his fingers drumming incessantly on the steering wheel as he drove, his eyes flickering from the road to her to the rearview mirror of his car. His gun rested in his lap, within easy reach.

  She did not believe for a moment that Quinn was really going to give up Benny to Garza. It had surprised her when Garza smirkingly told her that the sheriff had agreed to the deal, but then she realized that Quinn was no doubt planning some sort of trick. She knew that she had to stay alert, ready to run or drop to the ground if shooting started. She knew that she had one advantage, the same one that Quinn had with this man: Garza underestimated them, Lisa because she was a woman, and Quinn because he lived in a rural area—he had referred to Quinn contemptuously as “Deputy Dawg” more than once. She thought it likely that Garza would let his guard down with her.

  Garza turned off the road onto the dirt road into the ranch. A minute later, they were rattling across the cattle guard. Garza slowed down over the bumpy cattle guard, and for an instant Lisa considered jumping out of the slow-moving car. But she knew that her door was locked; she had seen Garza lock it with the button on the driver’s side. It would take precious time to unlock it—if that was even possible, for she didn’t know if the car had child locks that could be engaged from the driver’s side, making it impossible to unlock it. It would be better, she thought, to wait until later, when Quinn was here.

  The road turned into a dirt track and then disappeared altogether, and soon they were simply driving across the field. Garza cursed at the bumps and ruts and the effect they had on his elegant car. He stopped well short of the middle of the field and swung his car around to face the entry to the ranch. He stopped the engine. They waited.

  Lisa’s fingers felt like ice, and her stomach was twisted in knots. Why had she felt as if she were safe inside her office? Why hadn’t she locked her door? She cut her eyes toward her companion. Garza was holding his gun loosely in one hand. The fingers of his other hand were still tapping on the steering wheel, and circles of sweat were forming on his shirt even in the cool fall temperature. Garza was obviously nervous. She wondered if that improved the situation or just made it even worse.

  “There!”

  Garza’s exclamation made Lisa jump. She looked in the direction of the road and saw a car approaching them across the field. Quinn was here. Her stomach knotted even more tightly.

  The sheriff’s car rolled to a stop still some distance from them. Garza’s hand tightened around his gun.

  The driver�
�s door of the other car opened, and Quinn stepped out, shielded by the open door. “Garza!”

  Garza pushed a button on his door and slid across the seat to Lisa. He shoved the gun into her side. “Okay. Get out now, slowly. I unlocked it. Don’t try anything, like running, or you’re dead. You understand?”

  Lisa nodded.

  “Okay. Do it.”

  Lisa opened the door and stepped out slowly, Garza right behind her. He held her left arm in a tight grip and pressed the barrel of the gun into her back with his other hand.

  “Where’s the kid?” Garza shouted at Quinn. “You think I’m kidding about shooting her?”

  “No!” Quinn said quickly and jerked his head toward his car. “He’s here in the back. I just gotta get him out.”

  “Okay. But first, take that pistol out and throw it down.”

  Quinn nodded and reached down to the gun on his belt. Removing it carefully, he tossed it on the ground. Then he opened the back door and ducked inside. He reemerged, pulling a wriggling, squirming figure in an orange jail jumpsuit out of the car. Benny’s head was down, and he was hunched over, pulling and twisting in an attempt to get away.

  “Damn it, Benny!” Quinn shouted, wrapping his long arm around the slight figure and dragging him out from the protection of the car. They started toward Lisa and Garza.

  Lisa was amazed that Quinn had actually brought Benny with him. She had presumed that he was laying some sort of trap for them, that they would be encircled by his officers. Beside her Garza let out a snort of humor.

  “Kid’s smarter than he is. He knows how it’s going to end.”

  Quinn pressed on, pulling Benny with him. Benny was bent over, struggling, only the top of his head visible. Lisa felt Garza tensing beside her, and the pressure of the gun on her back grew lighter. She knew that he wanted to fire now at the two men, killing both Benny and Quinn. However, he was facing a dilemma in that he had to take the gun off Lisa to do so. She would be able to run or even throw herself against him to keep him from hitting Quinn. Her first instinct was to jump on his gun arm if he tried to fire at Quinn, but if Quinn had a sniper somewhere aiming at Garza, that action would make it impossible for the sharpshooter to get Garza without risking hurting her, too. She had to trust that Quinn knew what he was doing, that he had planned this in such a way that Garza would be caught and she would be safe. Her running away at the first chance would be what would aid him then. It was strange that he had chosen to endanger Benny, but she trusted him with both their lives.

  She tried not to tighten up and reveal in any way that she had felt the lessening of the pressure. She walked steadily, every sense alert, every nerve on edge. Garza half turned away, bringing the gun from behind Lisa’s back and around her to fire it. As soon as she felt him move, Lisa spun away and took off running. There was the explosion of a gun firing, and instinctively she whirled, looking back at the three men.

  To her astonishment, she saw that Benny had straightened and held a gun in his hand, aimed straight at Garza. Apparently it was he who had fired, for Garza was spinning and falling to the ground. She realized in the same instant that the man in the orange jumpsuit was not Benny Hernandez at all, but Ruben Padilla, Quinn’s chief deputy. Quinn’s plan had not been sharpshooters but a false Benny concealing a gun—and his face—by bending over at the waist in an apparent struggle.

  Even as she realized what had happened, Quinn and Padilla ran toward the fallen Garza, and, seemingly from beneath the earth, two more deputies rose from behind Lisa and Garza and converged upon the fallen man. She realized then that there was a ravine hidden farther on and Quinn, not taking any chances, had also hidden a couple of sharpshooters. As he ran, Quinn reached behind him, pulling a second gun from the back of his belt. As he brought it back to his side, Garza raised up from the ground and fired. Quinn spun and fell, hit.

  Lisa screamed and ran to Quinn, paying no attention to the second shot Padilla fired or to the three deputies pouncing on the criminal. Her only thought was Quinn. She cried his name over and over, dropping down on her knees beside him.

  He opened his eyes and smiled at her, putting his hand up to the bullet hole in the front of his shirt. “Damn!” he murmured. “That knocked me down.”

  “You’re not hurt?” Lisa stared at him, astonished.

  His grin broadened as he sat up, shaking his head. “Kevlar vest. Padilla’s got one on, too. I’m not big on taking chances.”

  “Oh, Quinn!” Lisa couldn’t hold back the sob that surged up in her chest. “I thought you were dead!”

  She flung her arms around him, and he wrapped his own around her, pulling her tightly against him. Tears poured from her eyes, and her breath came in hiccuping sobs. “I love you. Oh, thank God you’re all right. I love you.”

  He kissed the top of her head. “I love you.”

  Lisa’s eyes flew open. She blinked, disoriented. It was a moment before she remembered where she was. She had fallen asleep sitting on a couch in Quinn’s outer office. She sat up, and a coat slid down from her shoulders. She looked at the leather jacket and realized it was a cop’s jacket; Quinn had doubtless laid it over her when he saw her sleeping.

  She looked across at his inner office. The door was closed. He had been closeted in there since before she fell asleep. He had been in and out with one official or the other most of the day since the shooting, his meetings broken up by a press conference and a few discussions with his employees. Lisa had spent much of her time on this couch. Though Quinn had had a number of duties that he had had to attend to, neither one of them had been willing to be separated any farther than the few feet from the couch to his office. Quinn’s secretary had fussed over and cosseted her, bringing coffee and sweets and even dinner in a bag from the Moonstone. Several of the deputies had stopped by to chat and update her on the news from the hospital, where Enrique Garza had gone through surgery and was expected to recover and be able to stand trial. She had also been visited by the dispatcher and seemingly almost every employee in the county courthouse. The shootout on Red Klingman’s ranch was the biggest news here in years.

  Most important, every few minutes Quinn had come out to check on her, even if it was no more than to stick his head out the door and smile at her. More than once, he had come out and sat on the couch with her for a few minutes. They didn’t say much; it was enough simply to sit beside each other, hands linked.

  The door to his office opened and Deputy Padilla and another man came out. They nodded toward Lisa, and she smiled in return. But her attention was on Quinn, who had come out of the door after the men and locked it. He strolled across the room toward her now, and Lisa stood up to meet him.

  “Hey, darlin’.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. “God. I don’t know how I’m going to let you out of my sight again. Think you can operate your office here?”

  “It might cause a few problems,” Lisa replied with a smile. She snuggled against him with a satisfied sigh.

  “You ready to go home?” he asked. “I can finally leave.”

  “Sure.”

  They drove to his house, where Jo-Jo the cat met them with a wounded dignity that could only be assuaged by the immediate offering of food. Quinn fed him, then led Lisa to the couch in the living room and sat down. He pulled her into his arms, and she curled up against him, her head on his chest, lulled by his warmth and the reassuring thud of his heartbeat.

  “I’ve never been so scared in my life,” he said after a long moment. “When Garza told me he had you, my heart dropped down to my feet. I don’t know what I would have done if I had lost you.”

  “I know. I felt the same way when I saw you get shot. I was frozen with terror.”

  “I did some thinking before that, too. And then, when I thought you might die, I knew that all that mattered to me was being with you. I’m not pushing you, darlin’. Don’t worry—you can take all the time you want to decide. But I thought, you know, if we got married, when your year is up, you w
ouldn’t have to stay here. Maybe you could get a job in San Antonio, and we could live halfway there. Both of us would have a forty-five minute drive to work. Lots of people drive that kind of distance. Or, if you want to go back to Dallas, we could move there. I could resign as sheriff, and I’m sure I could get a job in Dallas. I could go back to being a cop. Or any other city you want. I don’t have to live in the country.”

  Tears welled in Lisa’s eyes, and she sat up to look at him. “Oh, Quinn…you would really do that for me?”

  “Of course I would. You’re more important to me than anything else.”

  “Thank you.” Lisa leaned forward and kissed him, the tears spilling out of her eyes. Then she sat back, swiping away her tears with the back of her hand. “But I did some thinking, too. When I saw you get shot, when I thought you were dead, I knew that I didn’t care about that other stuff. What does it matter where I live? I like Angel Eye. I’ve made good friends here and…it’s easy to get used to living here. I love your house…and your cat. You know Jo-Jo wouldn’t want to leave.”

  Quinn smiled. “Darlin’, you don’t have to do this.”

  “I know I don’t have to. And I love you even more because you are willing to give up your family and this house and this town that you love so much…all just to make me happy. But I don’t want to take you away from here. You belong here. And the things I have here are important. Maybe the cases aren’t big discrimination suits or anything, but they’re big to my clients. I’m helping people here. Getting Mrs. Ramirez’s landlord to make the repairs he should is important to her. Justice is just as important in small cases as in big ones. I like what I do here. And I don’t need some fancy office. I like my little office at the HLA. I like the people I’ve met here. It would be a good place to raise a family. And, most of all, I love you. Going through what we went through made me realize how silly my objections were. All I want is you.” She smiled a watery smile at him.

  “So you’re saying you’ll marry me?” Quinn asked.