“No. There’s no connection, but Josh has ordered further investigation up the chain within the FBI. Sometimes there are overlapping investigations that are ongoing and not everyone knows about them. That’s the lead he’s checking on right now. I told Josh it’s well-known around town that Zach works for Downing. He mucks out stalls for him every day of the week. Josh said Downing is very careful. He doesn’t think Zach would be able to legally swear that he was given orders by Downing to assist in this drug drop.”
“Okay,” Val said, thinking out loud, “so we have a known drug dropper working for a suspected regional drug lord?”
“Yes.”
“I just wonder where these bales of marijuana are being stored. That plane is coming in twice a week. That’s a lot of bales to hide.”
“Josh said two things could be happening. First, this is a new drug cartel coming into the area. They’re just starting to establish a supply point near Jackson Hole. Secondly, Downing owns a trucking operation in town. Josh feels Downing is probably using it as a way to transport the incoming bales to various dealers in probably a five- to eight-state area. He said that Downing is probably not keeping the drugs anywhere near his trucking depot.”
“Most likely,” Val said, rubbing her brow, “at his ranch. It’s a big spread with a lot of buildings on it.”
Griff felt pride for Val’s insight. “That’s exactly what the FBI agent said.”
“Being an intel officer with field experience gives me some advantage, Griff. From our headquarters we ran plenty of missions to locate illegal drug drops.” She tapped her fingers against her cup, thinking about the situation. “This FBI agent must be getting his act together to do something about this. You said someone is coming out here?”
“Yes, Josh is arriving tomorrow,” Griff told her. “He’s flying into Jackson Hole, renting a car and going straight to the sheriff’s office. They’ve already alerted the sheriff and they’re going to work together. Josh wants us to meet him at ten in the morning at the sheriff’s office. He’s okay with you being on this mission because of your security background with the military. After the meeting, he’s coming out here to look at Long Lake and then do some further investigation.”
Relieved, Val said, “That’s good, though it doesn’t guarantee him Downing.”
“No, but it’s a strong lead. Josh doesn’t know where this investigation will go.”
Frowning, Val rested her hips against the rail. She searched Griff’s face. “None of us do. Gus can’t know about this just yet. She’s still reeling from the fire. I’m afraid her health will deteriorate.”
“Agreed,” Griff said, worried. “This is getting dangerous. I’m not educated about being a spy. It leaves me worried for the two of you.”
Reaching out, she touched Griff’s arm. “Don’t worry,” Val said, feeling the leap of muscles beneath his shirt, “this was my bread and butter when I was in the military. I know the dance. And yes, it can be dangerous but I was trained to know how to handle myself, Griff. For an ex-Wall Street guy I think you’re doing pretty good, despite having no background for this type of undercover work.” She removed her hand from his arm. “One thing you have to know—these drug dealers play for keeps. They’ve got weapons on them at all times and they won’t hesitate to shoot anyone, whether they’re innocent or not. When a drug lord is moving into an area, his men are territorial, too.”
Disgruntled, Griff leaned against the rail with her, inches separating them. “I’ve read in too many papers about innocent hikers in the mountains who get injured or killed by drug dealers who are growing marijuana in a forest.”
“Right,” Val said, finishing off her coffee. “And this is a similar kind of situation. You wouldn’t want to go over there and ask these dudes as they row back to shore what’s going on. They’d kill you, Griff.” She sought out his narrowed gaze. He looked determined and yes, when Val met his gaze, she felt heat flare through her. Even though their lives were suddenly turned upside down by the sudden appearance of the drug cartel, Val wanted him. Would their lives ever quiet down so they could have time to explore one another?
“Josh said the same thing,” Griff admitted, unhappy. “He said to not go out there anymore. If they ever spot us, we’d be shot.”
“It’s not a pretty situation,” Val glumly agreed.
Shaking his head, Griff said, “We’re going to have to wait and see what Josh says.” He looked at his watch. “We need to get some sleep to be ready for tomorrow.”
Giving him a quirked smile, Val said, “I’m whipped, too. I don’t want those jerks on our lake. We’re building cabins for fishermen. We can’t put people’s lives in jeopardy. They have to be caught so the message is sent to the Garcia cartel the lake is off-limits to them.”
Easing off the rail, Griff said, “It’s going to be interesting for me to see what the plan will be.”
Nodding, Val followed him back into the house. “I’m curious too.”
* * *
“HERE’S THE PLAN,” Josh Gordon told the small group assembled in the sheriff’s office—the sheriff, Deputy Cade Garner, Val and Griff. “Based upon everyone’s information, we need a decoy.”
“What kind of a decoy?” the sheriff asked.
Josh stood at the front of the oval table. He had a number of files spread out before him. “I want to see if we can find the stash of drugs at Downing’s ranch. This should be done before we try to apprehend the drug flight. It’s the only way to implicate him with the Garcia cartel. We have an undercover agent in the cartel, but he’s down in Mexico. He’s hearing chatter about a rancher in this area being involved, but has no names. I’m sure Downing is involved, but we need proof.”
“Well,” Cade said, sitting up, “no judge will give you a search warrant to march into Downing’s ranch to hunt for bales without absolute proof. We have no connections yet to prove he’s implicated one way or another.”
“That’s correct,” the agent said. “It’s all circumstantial. But if someone he trusts goes in, they might find something.”
“You mean, like a wiretap on an agent?” Griff said.
“Oh, no,” Josh said, holding up his hand, “nothing like that. We can’t afford to raise suspicions in Downing.” His gaze moved to Val, who sat next to Griff. “Miss Hunter, you’re the perfect cover. You have six years of military intel experience, you’ve performed drug busts and we know Downing wants to buy your ranch. Would you be willing to go over there and see what you can find out? Maybe use the excuse that you want to talk about possibly selling the Bar H to him?”
“Wait a minute!” Griff said in a low growl. “That’s dangerous.”
Reaching out, Val put her hand on his. Griff had sat up, bristling at the FBI agent. “It’s a good plan, Griff. And don’t worry, Downing won’t suspect anything. He thinks so little of women in general that there’s no way he’d suspect me of having ulterior motives.” She looked across the table at the sheriff and Cade. “I have a track record in the military of going undercover for drug-smuggling operations and getting intel. This will be easy in comparison to what I did in the Middle East.”
Griff tasted panic and fear. “This is too dangerous, Val. I don’t want you to do it.” He shot a look over at Gordon. “Why can’t I do it instead?”
“Because,” Cade said with a deadpan expression, “Downing hates you. You won’t get a chance to do anything except to be told to get off his property. Val is the perfect foil.”
“But you’re sending her into an unknown situation. What if the drugs are there? What if she finds them? What if Downing sees her snooping around?”
Gripping his hand, Val lowered her voice to a soothing level. “Griff, nothing like that will happen. I won’t be carrying a wire or a weapon. I can say I’m interested in buying an endurance horse. It’s a solid story. Downing will never suspect
me.”
Struggling with his fear, he saw a new side to Val. This was the woman officer who had been in the military. She was calm and unperturbed. The opposite of how he felt. This meeting had brought up the truth: he was falling in love with this courageous woman. And the last thing he wanted was to lose her because of a bastard like Downing.
“Griff,” Gordon said in a persuasive tone, “Val is right. She’s trained for this. You aren’t. Anyway, Downing wouldn’t give you the time of day. She’s the right person. This is a covert operation and she knows how to handle someone like Downing, who is a well-known womanizer.”
“Look at it this way,” Garner added drily. “Downing always thinks between his legs when a woman is around. I seriously doubt he’ll realize Val is any threat whatsoever.”
Sitting back, Griff held on to Val’s hand. His was sweaty. Hers was dry and warm. “I’m worried,” he said.
“Of course, we all are,” Gordon said. “But this is a very straightforward operation.”
“I may find nothing, Griff,” Val told him, holding his anxious gaze. “Marijuana has a very distinct sickly-sweet odor. I need to walk around the buildings and see if I smell it. If I do, then that’s more proof that Downing is part of the drug ring.”
“And then you’ll leave his place?”
Val nodded. “I’ll have to get proof. I’ll carry a camera and my cell phone on me. And I’m sure we’ll all be meeting back here afterward?” She saw the grave-looking men nod their heads. Releasing Griff’s hand, she smiled and said, “This is a piece of cake, as Gus would say. It’s going to be a painless mission for all of us, including me.”
Griff desperately wanted to believe Val. His gut churned with warning and dread. He swallowed a barrage of arguments he wanted to throw out to halt the plan. But it was clear by looking at the three law-enforcement officers that they approved it. Cade’s wife had just had a baby. Would she want him going to spy on Downing? No. Cade had lost too much in his life already and Griff was sure the deputy sheriff would never put his wife in jeopardy for such a plan. Frustration made his mouth taste bitter.
“Come on,” Val urged, standing. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
Glancing at his watch, Griff saw it was one o’clock. “Already?” Alarm was in his deep tone.
Gordon rose, collected the files and stuffed them into his briefcase. “We’ll wait here for your return, Val.”
“But,” Griff protested as he stood, “doesn’t Val get anyone to watch over her? Protect her if something goes wrong?”
“No,” Val said. She gripped Griff’s arm gently, trying to reassure him. “Downing would suspect something if he saw a cruiser or a strange car following me into his ranch. I’ll be all right, Griff. I promise….”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CURT DOWNING WAS in his ranch’s main training arena with a student when he saw Val Hunter drive in. Curiosity piqued, he told the student to halt and walked out to meet her. The afternoon sunlight burned overhead across the valley, the temperature in the low eighties.
“Ms. Hunter,” Curt said, the riding crop in his left hand as he stopped at the door to her truck. “What brings you to my neck of the woods?” Curt liked her red hair that shined around her shoulders. Women with red hair were fiery lovers, which made him more than a little interested in her as a woman. And he knew from earlier meetings with her, she was a challenge.
Val shut the door and shouldered her purse. “Hi Curt. Sorry I didn’t call first, but this was the only day I had some free time to drop over.”
He smiled down at her. “You never need to call ahead to see me.”
Keeping her own smile fixed, Val kept her disgust well hidden. Curt’s smug features dripped with obvious innuendo. “Thanks, I appreciate your flexibility.”
“Have you changed your mind?”
“About what?”
“Aren’t you here to talk about selling the Bar H to me?”
Laughing lightly, Val shook her head. “Oh, no. I came because I’m interested in buying a good endurance horse. And everyone knows you have the best stock.” Val saw him preen. Actually, Slade McPherson had the best breeding stallion in America, Thor. But if she was going to do some snooping around, better to flatter Curt’s overinflated ego.
“Ah…well, you’ve come to the right place.” Curt was disappointed. He was hoping she had reconsidered his offer on the property. But if he could make a sale to her, he would. Although there were things here he didn’t want anyone to see, her being a woman made her no threat at all. She was innately stupid and he had no worries about her uncovering any of his illegal activities by wandering around the area. He pointed at the male student in his training arena. “I’m going to be busy for the next twenty minutes. The horses for sale are in the box stalls.” He pointed to the large barn. “And there’s six more in a corral behind it. Why don’t you take a look around and I’ll find you when I’m done giving my student his lesson?”
“Sounds good to me,” Val said. She turned and walked toward the barn, her elation barely under wraps. She had hoped to find Downing distracted by something else, and twenty minutes was a good amount of time to look for the marijuana bales if they were housed here at Downing’s sprawling ranch. She quickly moved inside the barn. Once there, she turned to check on Downing. He was back in the arena teaching the student.
Val pulled the long strap of her purse, which held a small camera inside it, across her body. Climbing the wooden ladder to the second floor of the barn, she wanted to swiftly check out the area. Her nostrils flared as she sniffed the air but she could find no telltale scent of marijuana.
The upper loft was neatly stacked with over a hundred bales of alfalfa and grass hay. Its sweet odor was fragrant. Val knew that a front of hay could hide bales of marijuana behind it. She moved a couple of bales here and there. Nothing. Disappointed, she descended the ladder. Next, the tack room. Val opened the door and closed it behind her, excitement thrumming through her as she flipped on the light switch to look around.
To the unobservant eye, the place was nothing but saddles and bridles hanging on the walls. She inhaled but only the scent of leather hung in the room. Looking down, Val saw cracks across the wooden floor. She spotted a very large trap door. She knelt and felt around for a latch or handle. There! It was artfully camouflaged so that no one would easily spot it. Looking up toward the main door, Val waited a moment. She heard no voices or footsteps outside in the aisleway. She carefully checked for an alarm system that could go off if she opened it, but found nothing. Taking a deep breath, she hauled the camouflaged door upward. It creaked loudly on rusty hinges. Fear drenched her. Had anyone heard it? She froze and waited, heart pounding.
Val heard nothing and pushed the large trapdoor fully open. The sickeningly sweet odor of marijuana drifted upward. Wooden steps led down into the darkness. She saw the door was thickly insulated around the edges. It would halt the odor from escaping. That was why she hadn’t smelled it in the tack room. Grabbing her purse, she pulled out a small flashlight. Hurrying down the stairs, she flashed the light around. The underground area was huge! Almost the size of the barn itself. Hands trembling, Val pulled the small camera out of her purse. She turned it on. Nothing happened.
“Damn,” she whispered. The camera wouldn’t work! Heart sinking, Val knew without photos, they couldn’t get a judge to sign a search warrant. She removed the battery and reinserted it. Nothing. It had to be a dead battery. And yet, it was a brand-new one! Frustration mixed with the fear of being discovered. Val didn’t dare waste time trying to fix it.
She pushed it back into her purse and quickly rummaged around for her cell phone. It had a camera and could be used instead. Her fear turned to raw anxiety. Where was her cell phone? Her heart rate skyrocketed as she stood in the darkness frantically searching for it. Mind churning with panic, Val realized with a
sinking feeling it wasn’t in her purse. By some freak accident, had it fallen out on the seat of her truck when she’d grabbed the purse? She closed her eyes and tried to steady the panic surging through her. A dead camera. And no cell phone. Disappointment flowed through her, sharp and raw. What to do now? If she went out to her truck to hunt for the cell phone, Curt would become suspicious. She couldn’t risk it.
Turning on her heel, Val climbed the stairs, pulled the trapdoor closed and moved silently to the tack room door. Taking in several deep breaths, she slid her hand around the wrought-iron handle. She pressed her ear to the door, trying to hear any voices or the echo of boots or horse hooves on the concrete floor outside. Hearing nothing, Val opened it and slipped through. No one was in the long, airy aisle. Heart thudding, she quickly shut the door behind her. She forced herself to stop and look at each horse in the box stalls before leaving the barn. If any of Downing’s wranglers happened into the area, they would see her studying the horses.
There were other outbuildings near the corral behind the barn. Val managed to slip briefly into each one. She couldn’t find any more drugs. Watching the clock closely on her wrist, she positioned herself at the corral where sale horses were munching on alfalfa hay. Any minute now, Downing would appear. She’d pretend to be possibly interested in buying one of the horses. Mouth dry, she tried to keep her heart from pounding so hard. Had anyone seen her in the barn? She knew if Downing figured out she’d found his drug stash, she was as good as dead. Right now, Val wanted to keep her cover intact and then drive to the sheriff’s department and let her waiting team know what had happened. She knew Agent Gordon would be severely disappointed.
* * *
GRIFF COULD BARELY CONTAIN HIMSELF as Val walked into the sheriff’s office two hours later. The whole team, including Josh Gordon and Cade Garner, anxiously awaited her arrival in the conference room. Griff opened the glass door for her to enter.
The Wrangler Page 28
