by Desiree Holt
Manny sat holding the phone for a long time after Gray hung up. Then he looked up the number for the airline he wanted. He'd go straight from the delivery to the airport and never even have to spit on this place again.
* * * *
Skip Conway was on the horn to Zane the moment the conversation ended.
"I think we have a whole lot of big trouble,” he told him and repeated what he and his men heard and recorded.
"Is the tape of the conversation enough to get the goods on Ballou?” Zane was in his office with the door closed, alone except for Roy. “I sure don't want him to skate."
"It would be nice if we could get him to the scene, but I don't think he gets his hands that dirty. In any event, I thought we could get together and plan a joint reception party for tonight. It's important for your guys to be in on this, unless there's someone you don't trust."
"No. I think that's a good idea."
Zane could hear murmured conversation, then Skip was back. “You aren't going to like this."
"Is there anything about this whole goatfuck to like?"
"We triangulated his cell phone. He just made three calls, all of them giving out a new cell number and a brief message. And that gave us another thread to follow, which you won't be too happy to hear about."
"What do you mean? Who else did he call?"
The pause this time was a lot longer. When he finally answered, Skip's voice was as sympathetic as he could make it. “He called your mother, Zane. He called Anita."
"My mother?” Nausea crept up into his throat. “He could have called her about anything. She works for him."
"This was no work-related matter. He told her he'd given his buyers her number since he didn't trust his right now, and she was to coordinate everything with them for tonight."
Zane's gut clenched. He wanted to throw something. Hit someone. They'd never been close, to say the least, and they operated with completely different philosophies. From the time he was ten and his father died, they'd been like two strangers living in the same house. When she moved to Copper Ridge, it gave him a chance to put space between them.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he'd always suspected his cool, remote mother had been more involved with Grayson Ballou outside her extremely high-paying job. But nothing like this had ever crossed his mind. Now he wondered just how far back it all went. If this was how she got her job so quickly. But he'd never expected her to be mixed up in something like this.
"What else?” he asked in a tight voice.
Skip repeated what he'd heard in reference to Jamie.
Zane tried to control the murderous rage creeping over him. Forcing a control he didn't feel, he made his voice as even as possible. Being realistic about it, he would need help that he couldn't get exclusively from his own staff. It killed him to ask Skip what he wanted from him, but he had to divorce himself from this emotionally. Jamie came first.
"I guess I'll need to ask you for a favor,” he told the man, his body vibrating with tension.
"Whatever you need, you know that. Can it wait until we get together?"
"Some of it. But someone will need to keep an eye on ... my mother. I can't use any of my men. She knows them all. Including the ones at the Copper Ridge substation. Is there any way you can help ‘em out here? We need to know where she goes and with who."
He wondered if Skip Conway could tell how much pain there was in his voice. His mother, damn it. He hoped whatever she was doing didn't splash over onto him.
"I already called San Antonio,” Skip told him, “and there are other agents on the way, but they're a good two hours or more from here. Do you think she'll need watching before then?"
Zane thought for a minute, swallowing the bile rising in his throat. “No, my guess is she'll probably sit tight, at least for the moment. Can you get a tap on her land line and cell?"
"Just waiting for the warrant to be faxed to me.” Silence for a moment. “I'm sorry about this, Zane. And also that Miss Randall seems to be in danger because of it."
"I'll take care of Jamie. Right now, I want to talk to my chief deputy."
"I'll call you when everyone gets here.” Skip disconnected the call.
Zane looked at Roy, who was trying to make himself invisible.
"You heard?” he asked.
"Only your end.” He cleared his throat. “What's up with your mother?"
"More than I'd like. Have a seat. We have things to go over, things that go no further than the two of us right now. But first I have to make a phone call."
* * * *
Jamie had managed to dig her cell phone out of her purse and was holding it when Zane called.
"Just checking in on my woman,” he said with an attempt at lightness.
The possessiveness in his voice sent slashes of warmth through her body. “Your woman's just fine. You, too, right?"
"Safe and sound.” There was a slight pause. “Listen, Jamie, there's going to be some stuff going on later tonight. I don't want you leaving the house. You or Kit. Okay?"
The warmth was replaced by slivers of ice. “This sounds dangerous. You'll be careful, right?"
He lowered his voice to the deep sound that made her pussy weep and her breasts tingle. “I promised, didn't I?"
"Just be sure you keep that promise."
"You've got the alarm set?"
"Yes. And all the doors and windows locked."
"Good.” His voice sounded strained. “Jamie, it's very important that you don't go out for any reason or let anyone in. I mean anyone."
Fear tickled at her nerves. “Zane, what's going on here? Has something else happened? Tell me the truth. Whatever it is, I can handle it."
Zane repeated what Skip had told him, that the tap on Ballou's phone had revealed to them that the man intended to deal with Jamie once and for all after tonight. “I'm just worried they may decide waiting until then is too long. Ballou may get antsy and decide to send someone after you today."
"I won't let anyone in the house. I wish we still had my father's gun.” Zane had locked it up as evidence after the shooting at her house.
"Just stay away from doors and windows, and you should be fine. I'm going to have a patrol car take a run by once an hour, just to check on things."
"You go take care of business, lawman, and I won't have to worry."
But when she hung up the phone, she couldn't shake the feeling of dread that had gripped her since the last dream. And she had a distinct feeling Zane was still keeping something from her.
"Trouble?” Kit wandered in from the kitchen carrying a pitcher of iced tea and two glasses.
"Isn't that our middle name?” She repeated what Zane had told her. “Plus, I know there's something he's keeping back."
"Like what?” Kit filled the glasses and handed one to Jamie.
"I don't know. But I've got a weird feeling that just won't go away.” She shivered as invisible fingers tickled her spine.
"Let's see if we can find a good romance movie on television, close the curtains, and hunker down on the couch. Our designated shopper included cookies with the groceries. I'll go get them. Nothing like cookies and a tearjerker to chase away the bogeymen."
* * * *
They were all in Zane's conference room—Roy, his hand-picked deputies, Skip Conway and the rest of the ICE agents. Skip had replayed the recordings of the conversations for everyone and handed out printed transcriptions. A whiteboard hanging on the wall was covered with a diagram of the supposed smuggling operation, but everyone was sharply aware of the number of question marks where names should be.
Skip stood at the head of the table, shirt sleeves rolled up, his eyes like chips of marble. Zane had deferred to him to run the meeting.
"This has to be your show,” he told the agent. “You've got the clout to make it work. If I try to arrest any of these people, they'll be out before the ink is dry on the booking slips."
The first thing they handed out was the basic lab repor
ts Zane's staff had generated. The dried substance found at the site on the Randall property was indeed blood, and of more than one type. The techs had also managed to confirm the fact that more than one vehicle drove in and out of there, although the tracks were too faint for specific identification. But it was the blood that got everyone's attention.
Skip tacked an aerial map of the Randall property and the surrounding area on the wall next to the whiteboard. He'd drawn a circle around the place they examined that morning. Next to it was a shot of the Eagle Pass property described in the telephone conversation. The red circle there marked the new meeting place.
"We've forced the people running this operation to move the spot they've been using, so they had to find an alternate location,” he told everyone. “The conversations we tapped indicate all the activity will take place about midnight. We have to assume they'll have eyes on the area somehow, so this will be dicey.” He shuffled through some paper in front of him. “I've gotten permission to redirect a satellite so we'll have an eye in the sky at all times. The other thing we have to deal with is how to get our people in place without attracting attention.” He glanced at Zane. “I think the sheriff can best address that."
"We'll have to leave all vehicles at least two miles away,” he told them, ignoring the wincing looks he got from some of the men. “There are some hidden paths we can take, and some of it will mean belly-crawling. But if we wait until dark we can get in there without being seen."
He pointed to a spot on the second aerial shot.
"Jimmy Black Crow's grandfather lives here. Has for years. People have made up a lot of stories about him so no one bothers him. There's virtually no traffic around here at all. Manny Alvarado has a piece of land there he can't sell. That's probably why Ballou and his people think this spot was a good one to pick. I'll let Jimmy take it from here."
The young deputy stood up at the end of the table. “We can rendezvous at my grandfather's house. If we drive up after dark, lights out, we'll be okay. I'll lead you from there.” He handed out sheets of paper. “These are directions to the house. The sheriff and Mr. Conway have set the rendezvous time for ten o'clock. We should allow an hour to get to the targeted spot without calling attention to ourselves. That gets us in place an hour before deadline."
"Plenty of time to set up and wait,” Skip added.
"We're all good at that,” one of his men joked, lightening the thick tension in the room.
Zane knew these were all experienced men. Jimmy Black Crow had the least experience but perhaps the most knowledge of what they'd be doing. In addition to the skills he'd learned from his grandfather, he'd had a tour of duty in Iraq before coming home to join the sheriff's department.
"One more thing.” Zane broke in and told them about the bodies of the two young girls they'd found. “We're dealing with some real sickos here. I want them more than you can possibly imagine."
Everyone sitting at the table echoed his thoughts.
They spent the next hour going over everything in great detail, making sure nothing was left to chance. Skip had left one of his men in the van at Jimmy's still monitoring the telephone taps. As the meeting was about to break up, Skip's cell phone rang.
"The van,” he told Zane. “Everyone hold on for a minute.” He listened carefully, murmured a few words and hung up. His gaze slid to Zane briefly then back to the men. “Ballou has ... someone ... contacting his buyers for him. I just received confirmation that everything's a go. Apparently tonight's delivery will include what they're calling ‘special orders,’ so there's more money than usual involved. That means they'll be more alert and probably more heavily armed. We'll go over this again when we meet at Nathan Black Crow's."
"Skip will handle the gear for his people,” Zane said. “All of you on my staff will get your equipment when we rendezvous. That's all. Oh, and I know I don't need to tell anyone this, but not a word of this gets out. To anyone."
As soon as the men left the room, Zane turned to Skip. “I assume that was my mother you were referring to before."
Skip nodded. “We got the tap in place. From the nature of the conversations, she does this on a regular basis. I hate to say this, but I'm going to guess she gets a cut, too. I'm sorry about this."
Zane shoved his clenched fists in his pockets. “Not your problem. I should have seen it coming a long time ago."
"The hardest things to see are those in front of us, you know. Are you sure you don't want me to handle that? Keep it away from your office?"
"No, but thanks. I think I'd better do this one myself. I don't want anyone to think I shied away from it. Or looked the other way."
"All right. I've got someone sitting on her, so if she starts to move, I'll let you know."
Zane nodded once. Memories were crashing in on him and none of them were pleasant.
* * * *
Anita Cameron completed her last call, closed her cell phone, and tucked it into her pocket. How could that imbecile Manny have let things go to hell this way? Every decision he'd made had only given birth to another problem.
It's that bitch Jamie Randall's fault.
Everything had started to fall apart when Jamie came back to Amen. Why did she have to pick this place to lick her wounds? And just at this time? Anita had spent years building this life for herself after Mike Cameron's death, an event she still thought of as removing an obstacle to her future. He'd certainly been agreeable to everything in the beginning. Until he began to think of himself as more important than he was.
And the demands he made on her. What was he thinking, anyway? She'd married him to get away from the reservation and the nowhere life many Comanche who lived outside the res were relegated to. It had been hard work, turning herself into the person she was, getting Gray to see her in a different light. Establishing herself as a different person.
And Zane. God, she had such plans for him. Educated and a military hero, he had no place to go but up with Gray's help. She even, in her daydreams, saw him as the first Native American governor of the state. Certainly a congressman. She was sure she'd almost had him convinced until that whore showed up again. Now she was all he could think of.
Well, Anita had managed to get rid of Mike Cameron. She could get rid of Jamie Randall just as easily. After tonight, Gray would owe her big time. She'd remove the one obstacle to success, and Zane would be on his way up the power ladder.
She paused in the foyer to look at herself in the wall mirror, touching her perfectly styled hair, examining the minute lines at the corners of her eyes. Not bad for fifty-four. She could be of great value to Zane. And she'd choose a woman for him that would be a help rather than a hindrance.
Humming to herself, she headed for her bathroom to shower. She wanted to look good for her big act tonight.
* * * *
Manny Alvarado poured himself a double shot of single malt scotch and tossed it down in one swallow. He shuddered as the liquor burned its way to his stomach. When the searing warmth had spread throughout his system, he poured another drink and carried it with him to his bathroom. He had plenty of time to shower and change before arriving at the rendezvous spot. For the coyotes, jeans and a T-shirt were too good, but for the representatives of the buyers, he needed a more elegant appearance. It would never do to let them think they were doing business with lower class.
He also had time for at least one more drink to calm his nerves. His conversations with Ballou today had grated on his nerves. He would love to point out to the man that he'd created this situation. He was the one who had the argument with Frank Randall and ordered Manny to get rid of him. He was the one who'd failed to find out where the old man had hidden the money. He was the one who made an issue out of buying the Randall property, calling attention to a situation that might have had other solutions.
Now it was up to Manny to pull their bacon out of the fire. Good old Manny.
Manny smiled to himself as he thought of the shock to Grayson Ballou when good old Manny u
p and disappeared.
As he stripped off his clothes, his cell phone rang. Looking at the Caller ID, he twisted his lips. Gray. Again. Sighing, he pressed the Talk button.
"What now?"
"I'm not sure that's the appropriate way to address a man who's helping you make a fortune,” Gray spat out. “Especially since it's your stupidity that put us in the situation we find ourselves in."
Manny gripped the phone so hard he was afraid it would shatter in his hand. He only wished it was Grayson Ballou's neck.
"What do you want? Everything's set for tonight on your end, right?"
"I always take care of business. Just be sure you do the same. You have people arriving ahead of time to secure the area?"
"Yes.” Manny gritted his teeth. “It cost more money, but I got a good team. They'll be in place an hour ahead of time."
"Are you sure that's enough in advance?"
"Damn it!” Manny exploded. “Will you let me do my job without second guessing me?"
"As long as you do it properly. No screw-ups tonight, Manny. This is the biggest payoff yet."
"Everything will be fine. Now let me get ready."
Manny snapped the phone shut and resisted the urge to throw it across the room. Instead, he punched in a familiar number.
"Tell me again you're all set for tonight,” he said when the man he called answered.
* * * *
Zane let himself into the house quietly. Before getting ready for tonight, he wanted five minutes to hold Jamie in his arms and kiss the life out of her. He headed toward the kitchen but stopped when he heard Kit's angry voice.
"You should have just hung up on the asshole,” she was saying. “Or at least told him you weren't interested."
"The call startled me.” Jamie's voice. Defensive. “Anyway, he was the last person I expected to hear from today. Or any other day, for that matter."
"So you get a call from your old boss telling you that the real story of what happened to you has been uncovered.” Kit's voice. “All of a sudden the man who tossed you out with the garbage wants you to fly to Miami and talk about getting your old job back. Big fucking deal."
