by Vonnie Davis
“Ghost, Scratch, and Titan.”
ZQ looked at Clint. “If your superiors at the U.S. Marshal headquarters decide they want the skill and stealth of my team, call my handler at the CIA and ask him to intervene. My house phone has an encrypted line if you want to make the calls now. You can safely use it.”
Dustin extended his hand in a stop gesture. “Before we load a bunch of men in a Blackhawk and head off for who knows where, let’s think this through. Something’s been gnawing at my gut. Why would Tony send that asshat Jim into Kelcee’s bookstore with a warning he’d be here in three days? Wouldn’t that make the normal person flee for her life? Then he’d have to start hunting for her again.
“If he wanted to scare her, why not just walk into her bookstore? Because he’d already scoped it out. I’m betting he knew a U.S. Marshal often played checkers on her front porch, and was aware of Clint’s schedule for dropping by the store, and Kelcee’s routine.”
“What are you thinking, Dust? You know I always did trust your instincts.”
“I’m thinking he’s already here in Warrior Falls. He may even be the bastard who ran her down. I’m also betting he’s on your ranch, watching us right now. The hairs on the back of my neck started to rise shortly after these three got here. I chalked it up to my being so damn glad to see Kelcee again. Since the feeling persists, even after I’ve kissed her, I’m thinking it’s Tony and whoever he’s brought with him.”
ZQ shot a glance at JJ. “What do you think of his theory?”
“Makes sense to me. Why would the bastard give her a warning like that, knowing darn well she’d probably flee? It’s counterproductive. Unless he had a reason for it.”
“But I don’t have a car.” Kelcee could barely force out the words with her heart pounding like mad in her throat. Could Dustin be right?
“Tony might not know that, Kitten. Or he might figure you’d be on the phone right away to a friend. Your boyfriend, in particular. That’s why I was mentioned. He figured you’d call me to keep me safe.”
Clint ran his palm over his bald scalp. “In a sick way, it makes sense. Hell, I was so worried about his coming in three days, I never even checked to see if we were being followed.”
Kelcee stood and started to pace, returned to the table, and reached for a cookie. “This whole situation will drive me batshit crazy. Do you really think my own brother would run me down with a motorcycle?”
“He’s threatened to kill you, hasn’t he? Did the rider’s build match Tony’s?” Dustin stood in front of her, waiting for her to think it through.
“He was the same height, but heavier.”
ZQ stood, reaching in his jeans pocket for his cellphone. “JJ, make sure Mom is in the house. Tell her what we think, in a shortened version, and insist she stay inside.” JJ and Nance hurried out of the office. ZQ thumbed a number. “Elroy, we’ve got an emergency on the ranch. Round up all the men and bring them in. Tell them to be aware of their surroundings. There’s a possibility we have a killer or two hiding on the property. All of you stay safe. Get in the bunkhouse as soon as you take care of your horses.”
He turned to Dustin. “I’ve got a tunnel to an underground bunker. There’s a cart kept there to carry flak jackets, guns, rifles, and ammo. The tunnel’s entrance is beneath the concrete block building out back.”
JJ returned to the room and nodded to ZQ. “Mama Junebug understands.”
“Dustin, I’ll call you once I’ve got the cart from the bunker near the steps. You and JJ come out and help me carry everything up.”
“Yes, sir,” both guys replied in unison.
Fran moved to sit beside her husband. Her voice lowered to an intimate whisper.
Clint patted her thigh. “Don’t you fret, Sugar Loaf. I’ll be fine. I’ll be protecting our girl, here.” He kissed her cheek. “You, too, sweets. I’ll be keeping you safe, too.”
Fran’s hand fisted on her ample hip, bracelets jangling. “Well, land sakes, I can fire a gun as good as anyone else. Just you give me a firearm. I’ll go all Wonder Woman on you.” She shifted her gaze to Kelcee. “Can you fire a weapon?”
“Frank taught me how to shoot. I do better with a handgun than a rifle.”
“See? Your team just grew by two.”
Clint along with ZQ, JJ, and Dustin, who were almost out of the office, chimed together, “Hell no!”
Fran stood and shook her finger at them. “Let me tell you. Ain’t nothin’ meaner than a woman with hot flashes and another with PMS.” PMS? No, Fran! Don’t tell these men I’ve got PMS. Really? “Just turn those men loose on us bitches. I’ve won many a shooting contest. Don’t provoke us. We’re on the team and that’s that.”
A sudden barrage of shots rang out! ZQ rushed to open his desk drawer and removed a .9 mm. “Everyone who isn’t armed, hit the floor.”
The door burst open and Junebug charged in with four rifles, loaded magazines, and boxes of ammo. She heaved everything onto ZQ’s big desk. Wild-eyed, her silver hair stood on end. “Fudge and buttermilk, they got Alonzo. Elroy just now carried him into the kitchen. There’s blood all over my floor. Who has any medical experience?”
“Me!” JJ rushed out. “Junebug, got any supplies?”
She ran after him. “I keep a stockpile in the laundry room. I’ll show you. I can’t stand seeing one of our men in pain.” Her voice rose in anger or hysteria. “I’m gonna shoot the balls off of somebody.”
Fran grabbed a rifle and slammed a clip into it. “ZQ, hope you’re not overly attached to these windows, because you might need some replacements when this is all said and done.”
ZQ tossed a rifle to Dustin and Clint along with magazines and ammo. “Dust, looks like your instincts were right again. Cover me while I run for the block building out back.” Both men ran out of the room, holding a rifle as if it were an extension of their arms.
The events unfolded in front of Kelcee like an action flick in high speed. There was movement everywhere, and for a few minutes, she just sat on the floor in shock. Tony was here. She began to tremble. He was going to kill them all—everyone she liked and loved. She composed herself and straightened her spine. Not if I can help it. I have to stop being afraid of him. Put my big-girl thong on and deal.
“I’m going to go help JJ with Alonzo.” Kelcee sprinted from the office. The more she could assist JJ, the sooner he’d be able to be there for Dustin and ZQ.
JJ must have cut the ranch hand’s T-shirt from him. Alonzo clasped the neck of a whiskey bottle, drinking straight from it.
“Bullet went clean through.” The latex gloves JJ wore were bloody. “I can’t feel any broken bones.”
Nance lay with her chin on Alonzo’s leg, whining in comfort. How many times had she done this for men in war?
“Tell me how I can help.” Kelcee awkwardly slipped one hand into a glove, holding the edge of the latex with the fingers of her broken hand, and trying her best to ignore the churning of her stomach.
“There’s gauze pads. Unwrap them. Pile them up. I’m going to build a field dressing. Press on the pressure point here.” JJ’s index finger indicated the large vessel in Alonzo’s upper arm. “The brachial artery. If that stops the flow of bleeding, then I can stitch up the entry wound and apply the bandages. I’ll keep the exit wound open, but covered. No stitches there.” His hands worked steadily on the man.
She did as she was told, ignoring all the blood. It seemed to be everywhere.
“You’re looking pale, kid.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat, wishing her stomach would stop twisting itself into knots. “I’ll be fine. My first time at this. Okay, the gauze bandages are piled here. How will I know I’m pressing on the right artery? I don’t know this medical stuff.”
“If the flow of blood slows or stops, you’ll know you’ve got it. Press down hard and hold, no matter how much he bitches.” She did and Alonzo cussed at her in Spanish.
JJ answered him in Spanish and Alonzo quieted, drinking more
whiskey.
More gunshots pierced the air, answered by many more. Junebug rushed to her kitchen window over the sink to peer out. “Fudge and buttermilk, I can’t see a blasted thing.” She swiveled for the back door.
“You’re not to go outside. You know ZQ’s orders.” JJ spared her a hard glare.
“I need to do something!” she wailed. “Someone has shot one of my boys!” She pointed a gnarled finger at Alonzo. “My sweet Mexican bambino.”
Alonzo cast worshipful eyes on her. “La Madre.”
She kneeled next to him and rubbed his hair from his forehead. “He’s been with us since he was fourteen. I taught him to read and speak English fluently. I helped him study for his American citizenship test.”
He held her hand to his cheek. “Junebug, my American angel.”
“Junebug, I need you to make a bed up for Alonzo. If you’ve got a rubber sheet or something to keep the blood from ruining your mattress, put it on.”
“I’ll make my boy a comfortable bed.” Junebug slowly stood, her knees cracking, and hobbled from the kitchen.
“You’re pressing on the right spot, Kelcee. His blood flow is stopping. I’m going to build a patch on the back first.” JJ rolled Alonzo toward his knees and began working as if it were second nature to him. “Did Dust mention he and I are going to see a shrink about our PTSD?” JJ was probably trying to distract her from all the blood so she didn’t hurl.
“He told me he was. He never brought up your name, but then he was talking pretty fast to keep me in the bathroom with him while he apologized. He did ask me to go along on a few sessions to learn how his mind works.”
JJ reached for another gauze pad. “Every vet’s mind works a little differently, depending on their personality when he went in. For me, I couldn’t handle the outside world. I have suicidal thoughts every day, yet I don’t want to die and leave Nance behind. How’s that for being fucked-up in the head?” A second pad covered the wound.
“I just wanted the thoughts, the horrific memories that controlled my mind to stop.” He reached for another piece of gauze. “That’s a strong part of PTSD. You have to realize those of us who have it, respond instantly to stimuli—and not always in a good way. As military, we’re taught to act and react quickly in situations. It’s ingrained in us. The result? Once we’re home, we wrestle with our demons every day. Sometimes in big ways, sometimes small.”
She gazed into his dark eyes. “Do you lose time the way Dustin does? Zone out and step back into a battle?”
“No.” He pressed on two more sterile pads. “Is Dust having problems with triggers? Flashbacks?”
“The hole in this kitchen ceiling reminds him of those in buildings back in Iraq. Now that he’s aware of it, he avoids looking at it. We went to a spy movie the other week and as soon as the gunfire and explosions started, it was as if he left the theater.” She glanced away and inhaled a deep breath. “He has these terrible nightmares.”
Having built a bandage that seemed to suit him, JJ taped it all in place and rolled Alonzo onto his back. He began cleaning off the entry wound. “Yeah, so do I. That’s why Nance and I sleep outside. I don’t want to wake up Junebug with my screaming.”
“If there was only some way I could protect him from them. I tried waking him and he threw me off the bed.”
JJ studied her. “No SEAL and I mean no SEAL would want his woman protecting him. See, we live to protect. Don’t take that from us. Next time a night terror starts, sneak out of the bed and move to the sofa. Let him battle them himself.” He spoke to Alonzo in Spanish and the ranch hand shook his head before JJ started stitching him closed. Low murmurs came from the injured man as he drank more alcohol.
Kelcee didn’t know if he was cussing or praying or both.
“There’s so much about the military mindset I don’t know or understand.”
“You better listen and learn.” JJ’s swift movements never halted. “We live to protect and serve. It’s just that simple. Not just our country, but our loved ones. Our minds often get messed up in the process. We carry those mental scars with us.”
JJ barked a harsh laugh. “Hell, I get pissed if I can’t find a parking space at the mall for my bike. People committing crimes make me want to beat them senseless. Did we fight and spill blood on some godforsaken land so people back here could mug old ladies and break into people’s houses? I don’t think so.” He snatched more gauze patches to wipe off the blood. “Sorry, but your brother has me pissed off. Alonzo’s injuries are so damn senseless.”
JJ seemed to reach the end of his rant, so she spoke. “From what I’ve read, most of the service personnel coming back to the States have some degree of PTSD.”
He nodded slowly, sadness filling his eyes. “True dat. But, mostly we can’t talk about it. Seeing this shrink will do Dust and me a lot of good. It’s time we both moved on, found some peace.”
Chapter 19
Several pop-pop-pops ripped the quiet air. Many more shots were fired. “It’s like being back in my old neighborhood in Baltimore,” Kelcee remarked. “Drive-bys were becoming more common.”
Once JJ had Alonzo patched up, he told Kelcee he was going outside to help Dustin and ZQ bring in supplies. Before reaching the back door, he asked her to get a blanket from Junebug to cover Alonzo, so he wouldn’t go into shock. JJ patted his leg and gave Nance orders: “Unfriendlies. Run low and crooked.” Nance growled deep in her throat.
Kelcee had never been to this ranch before, so she really didn’t know which way to go in the house. She found a hallway and followed her way toward faint feminine crying. “Junebug?”
Someone blew her nose. “In here. Third door on your left. The yellow room.” Junebug sniffled and blew her nose again.
“JJ’s through patching Alonzo, for now. He sent me for a blanket to cover him so he doesn’t go into shock.” No need to ask Junebug why she was crying. She was probably as worried for her son as she was for Alonzo.
She ran her crooked arthritic fingers over the clean bed she’d just made up. “Yes. A blanket. My Alonzo needs a blanket.” A blank look drifted over her eyes. “Where do I keep blankets? Where?” She grabbed Kelcee’s good upper arm. “Something’s wrong with me! I can’t think! All this emotional commotion has given me…has given me…what’s that disease people get when they can’t remember shit? I forget the name of it.” Junebug fiddled with a button on her bloodstained pink cotton blouse.
“You’re scared. That’s all. Fear chases away rational thought sometimes.” Kelcee hugged the older woman. “It’s okay that your mind’s gone blank. It’ll all come back once things around here calm down. I promise. Do you recall where you got the clean sheets?”
“Yes!” Her wrinkled face lit up. “Yes, follow me. How silly to forget the big linen closet ZQ built. He’s very handy around the house, you know. Why, my son can do anything he sets his mind to.” She shot a glance over her shoulder at Kelcee. “Except for finding himself a wife. I could understand it when he was in the SEALs. The divorce rate is so high with the separation and the wife never knowing where her husband is deployed. But he’s been out nearly a year now and the only woman he dates is that awful Wanda.”
ZQ and Wanda? Together? Talk about your odd couple. “You’re kidding!” Oh God, I think I just threw up a little in my mouth.
“Huh, I wish I was. Believe me, I don’t like it. She’s a gold digger.” Junebug opened double doors to the biggest linen closet Kelcee had ever seen.
“A walk-in linen closet?”
“I know. Isn’t it grand?” Junebug reached for a heavy white blanket.
“Maybe one of the older plaid blankets would be better with all the blood on the floor.”
“No, he’s one of my boys. He was shot on our property. He gets the best.” She handed the white blanket to Kelcee. “Now, I’m going upstairs to take some medicine for this banger migraine coming on, put on a nightgown, and then I’m going to bed. I suppose that sounds odd to you, but it’s how I’ve take
n to dealing with high levels of stress. It’s like if I’m not a part of it, it ain’t happening. A silly mind game, I know.” She raised her chin. “Even so, I’m pulling the covers over my head for a couple of hours and letting the world take care of itself.”
Junebug reached for a half-empty bottle of whiskey on a shelf and took a swig or two. “A little whiskey helps the migraine medicine slide down the throat better.” She took another long drink. “A woman’s home is supposed to be safe, dang it. Fudge and buttermilk, this is too much excitement for me with a headache pounding on my eyeballs. I can’t handle all these negative vibes. I like the serenity of my kitchen and flower beds.”
She turned and ambled toward the stairway to what Kelcee presumed was her bedroom.
Once she covered Alonzo, she started to pry his fingers from the neck of the whiskey bottle, then reasoned if he woke up in agony, he might need the alcoholic painkiller.
The floorboards creaked behind her and she straightened to see who it was.
“Hello, loving sister, you snitching rat.”
She stiffened at the voice she hadn’t heard in over two years and spun to look into the eyes of a crazy man. Her brother’s face was bloated, his eyes sunken into the chubbiness. His hair, once his pride and joy, was combed straight back into a ponytail. A gold ring hung from one earlobe and two smaller ones from his left eyebrow. He wore fatigues, sneakers, and a thick gold chain with a Russian Mafia symbol dangling from it.
Fear strapped to a Harley roared through her ears and every hill and valley of her system. Tony was heavier. His build matched the man who’d run her down. “How…how did you get in here?” I refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing how scared I am. He gets off on that shit.
He grinned. “Texans are the dumbest people I’ve ever run across. Hell, they don’t even lock their front doors. I just walked right in.” He waved his hand contemptuously. “Come here. Don’t you have a hug for your favorite brother?” He laughed. “Oh, that’s right. Kinda hard to hug with one arm, isn’t it?”
