The Truth (Butler Ranch Book 5)

by Heather Slade

  “He’s only done it one other time,” Razor had told Mercer. “It was for Barbra Streisand and that guy she married. But don’t tell Skipper. She’ll get it into her head that she ranks as high as a Hollywood superstar.”

  Once outside, Quinn continued to prod Razor. “Do I get to know where we’re going? Or do I have to hang out on the floor of your SUV again? You might want to consider keeping barf bags back there.” She put her hands on her hips and frowned when she noticed the empty parking space next to his SUV. “Where’s the Porsche?”

  “Already transported. Let’s roll.”

  Mercer suggested Quinn sit up front, with Razor, on the ride to her new accommodations, so he could get some work done.

  “Mercer said I could have my phone back,” he heard her say, and watched Razor toss it to her.

  “Even charged it all up for you.”

  Quinn was too busy checking text and voice messages to respond. Mercer knew her friends had attempted to reach her, because Aine had left him a message asking if she was okay.

  Mercer had wanted to go to Harmony today and get with Paps about the stuff Quinn had unearthed at the cabin, but decided it was better to spend time with her instead.

  So far, they hadn’t found anything significant enough to be what Calder might be looking for. “It’s mainly information Doc wouldn’t have wanted him to have. We’re looking for something Calder himself wouldn’t want exposed,” Paps had told him about what he’d looked through so far. “There is one more possibility,” he’d added. “And that is Doc may have found it and moved it, leading Boiler to have reason to target Butler Ranch and the closest properties to it.”

  Mercer pulled up a map of Adelaida Trail, where Butler Ranch was located. Closest to them was Los Caballeros and Wolf Family Vintners. While he doubted Doc would’ve put Peyton Wolf or her family in danger by hiding something on their property, knowing he’d been involved with the woman who was now his brother Brodie’s fiancée, might lead Calder to target them next. He sent a message to Paps to see if he concurred. If so, they should consider adding surveillance.

  When Razor pulled up to the gates of Happy Valley Ranch, he stopped and handed Mercer and Quinn bracelets. “Put these on,” he told them.

  Mercer knew the bracelets kept the security system from triggering when residents moved about the ranch. They also tracked the location of each of the apparatus, probably developed specifically because of the kidnapping.

  Mercer surveyed the security checkpoints as they showed up on the software he had developed for K19 as they drove through the gates and to the main house. If there was ever a place more secure than he thought necessary, it was this place.

  “I’ll stick around today,” Razor told him when they exited the vehicle. “Maybe I’ll initiate driving lessons.”

  “Appreciate it, but I want to spend the day with her.”

  “Roger that.”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “You got it, Eighty-eight.”

  Quinn joined them. “What is this place?”

  “Where we’ll be for the next few days, at least.”

  “It’s nice,” she said, looking around. “Are those horses?”

  Mercer looked where she pointed. “Do you ride?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Like sailing, it was something the tribe and I learned together.”

  “I can check and see if they’re available to ride if you’d like.”

  “Maybe.” She looked over at the car.

  “After driving lessons, of course. You’re very taken with that car.”

  “You’re going to think this is silly, but I feel connected to him when I’m in it.”

  She didn’t need to tell him who she was talking about when she said “him,” and it made him happy that something good had come from her birth certificate discovery.

  “The Jaguar is his too.”

  “I thought so. And I’m glad you said ‘is.’”

  Mercer ran his finger down her cheek. “Until we prove otherwise, Doc is alive to us.”

  They spent the rest of the day as normally as Mercer could make it for Quinn. Her first driving lesson in the Porsche lasted almost three hours. When he asked if she wanted to look into riding the horses, she declined.

  “I just want to be with you. Close to you.”

  “I feel the same way, precious.”

  They made love, made food, and then made love again. They found a library full of books, and sat on the front porch, reading until the sun went down.

  “Thank you for today,” Quinn said when they were in bed, both exhausted.

  “Thank you, Quinn.”

  “Tomorrow won’t be like today, will it?”

  “Let’s not worry about that tonight, precious.”

  She nodded, rested her head on his chest, and fell asleep. As soon as he was certain she had, he slept too.

  “Razor will be here with you today,” he said to her the next morning.

  “Okay.” She squeezed his hand.

  “You’re safe with him.”

  She nodded. “I know. I just…”

  He smiled, waiting for her to finish.

  “I feel better when I’m with you.”

  “I feel better when you’re with me too, but if it can’t be me…”

  “Think he’ll want to give me another driving lesson?”

  “I know he will. I also predict you’ll be ready to quit before he is.”

  “You remember Burns,” Paps said when Mercer arrived at the Harmony house.

  “Of course he does, Gunner. We’ve had several conversations.”

  Mercer was glad to see him here. He planned to find a way to address the possibility of Burns joining Quinn’s detail team.

  The three men discussed the next winery Calder might target, and both Paps and Burns agreed Wolf Family Vintners made the most sense. In terms of production, theirs was quite low, which meant it wouldn’t take much to compromise their financial stability. However, Jamison and August Wolf had paid off the land as well as recouped their capital investment several years ago, so forcing them to sell was unlikely.

  “What else is there?” Mercer asked Burns.

  “Inventory.”

  “Would that be worse in terms of loss?”

  “Far worse. Every year of cellared inventory represents several years of income as a winery staggers its release.”

  “Did Razor tell you that Naughton saw Burns.”

  “He said he wasn’t sure if it was something we needed to be concerned about. Is it?”

  Burns nodded. “Naughton tends to speculate and subsequently investigate more than Maddox. I anticipate questions.”

  “Are you prepared to answer them?”

  Burns didn’t respond, but leveled his gaze at Mercer.

  “I’d like to discuss Quinn as well,” he continued. “Razor suggested you might consider assisting with her detail.”

  Burns nodded.

  “Do you carry?”

  “Always.”

  “Eighty-eight—” Paps interjected, but Burns raised his hand to silence him.

  “I anticipated the interrogation, Gunner. Let him finish.”

  “You’re retired,” Mercer stated.

  “In the same way you may be one day.”

  Retiring didn’t end the lifestyle or the intuitive thinking that became more deeply ingrained the longer someone in their line of work stayed active.

  “Make use of me as needed.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Mercer nodded. “What do you think Calder is looking for?”

  “His insurance policy,” answered Paps.

  Mercer agreed it made sense. Calder had something on the Russians that would ensure they wouldn’t turn on him. Not being able to locate whatever it was, would cause him to become more and more desperate to find it.

  “We’ve discussed the idea that Doc found it,” added Laird.

  The only reason Mercer doubted that theory, was the lack of anything from Doc indicating he had.
The man had planned what would happen after his death down to the most minute detail, so why wouldn’t he have left some clue about something that would allow them to neutralize Calder?

  “Leech,” Mercer spoke out loud. “Not Doc. Leech found it.”

  “And used it to locate Boiler,” added Paps.

  “Where would he have hidden it?”

  That was the million dollar question. Had Calder captured Leech, and then interrogated him? If so, once he found what he’d hidden twenty-one years ago, Leech would be expendable.

  There was a chance, too, that the Russians had both him and Doc, believing either of the men could lead them to whatever damaging information Calder had collected.

  It was the first theory Mercer had come up with that gave him actual hope they’d find the two men alive. It meant that they either needed to find the “insurance policy” first, or prevent Calder from doing so.

  Capturing him would do no good. Mercer suspected there was insufficient evidence to prosecute him for espionage or they would’ve arrested him years ago. The statute of limitations on rape crimes had recently been eliminated in the State of California, but putting him in jail for that crime would derail their search for Doc and Leech.

  —:—

  Quinn changed her mind a dozen times about whether she should tell Mercer about the only document she took from the cabin.

  On one hand, she understood that he, Razor, and the rest of the people they worked with were protecting her. On the other hand, the letter she found was very specific about who she could talk to about it, and who she couldn’t. Since she had a few minutes alone, she pulled it out of the pocket of her shorts and ran her fingers over the handwritten words.

  Dear Quinn,

  The circumstances of your reading this letter mean you are likely aware of other things that have happened in your life. I am sure you are confused, and even angry, about the secrets that have been kept from you.

  I am also sure you have many questions about who I am to you, and why I’m writing this letter.

  My guess is you will be frustrated by what little I have to say; however, it is important that you pay attention to what the rest of this letter says.

  I have established a trust fund for you, separate from your mother’s family’s trust. You will be notified of your inheritance upon my confirmed death, and at the same time, your trustee will also be notified.

  That trustee is my brother Naughton, who is unaware of both his involvement, and of your existence.

  When you read this letter, establish contact with him, and let him know of its contents.

  Other than my father, Laird Butler, no one else should be made aware of what I’ve told you. Please ensure Naughton understands the importance of this staying between the two of you. This includes other family members.

  Regardless of what happens in your life, know this, Quinn Analise—your mother and I love you more than you could ever know.

  The letter was unsigned, but she knew it was from Kade. She also knew that, somehow, she had to figure out how to establish contact with Naughton without anyone else knowing.

  She tucked the letter inside the pocket of a pair of pants in her bag, glad she no longer had to carry it with her, and lay down on the bed, wishing Mercer was back. She knew better than to ask when he would be, and Razor had offered no clue.

  When she opened her eyes again and looked at the time on her phone, she couldn’t believe she’d slept three hours. Mercer must not have come back; otherwise, he’d probably be in bed next to her.

  “Hey, there,” said Razor when she came downstairs. “Good nap?”

  “I guess I was more tired than I thought.”

  “Stress will do that.”

  She sat down at the table across from where Razor was working. “I wish you didn’t have to babysit me.”

  “Me too,” he grinned.

  His smile quickly changed to a frown, and he stood. “Excuse me,” he mumbled and went outside. Quinn watched while he talked on his phone. The look on his face was the same as it had been when he received word about the fire at Butler Ranch.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked when he came back inside and sat at the table. She really didn’t expect that he’d answer, but he did.

  “We suspect that the same person who was behind setting the fire, is about to act again.” He scrubbed his face with his hand. “Both Eighty-eight and I are needed in the field, so we need to leave.”

  “We?”

  “Yep. We’ll hook up with Burns on Old Creek Road.”

  “Do I need to bring anything with me?”

  “Nah. You’re coming right back here. Burns needs you for access.” Razor handed her a bracelet like the one Mercer had put on her wrist. “Give this to him.”

  Quinn did her best to blink away threatening tears, but not before Razor noticed.

  “It’s okay, Skipper. It’s what we do.”

  “Be careful,” she whispered.

  He smiled. “Always. Be right back.”

  Razor came out of one of the downstairs bedrooms wearing a harness that held a gun. He sat down in the same chair he’d been sitting in before, and strapped a gun to his left leg too.

  The more she saw and knew, the more Quinn found herself wishing she hadn’t gotten on that plane, and was sitting in her apartment, bored out of her mind, and wondering when Mercer would be home.

  19

  Twenty minutes later, Quinn walked out of the woods where her grandfather used to live, and got into an old truck that Laird Butler was driving.

  “Hello, Quinn. How are you holding up?” he asked.

  “I’m fine, thank you,” she murmured. “How are you?”

  “I’m fine too, but hungry.” He pointed to a container. “Sorcha sent soup, plus freshly baked bread, and a pie.”

  Neither spoke for the rest of the drive back, other than Quinn giving him the security bracelet and explaining what it was for.

  “Are you Burns?” she asked after they were back at Happy Valley Ranch and had taken the food inside.

  “I am.”

  Quinn found bowls and silverware while Laird looked for a pot to heat the soup. “Who is Sorcha?”

  “My wife.”

  “I found a letter,” she blurted.

  Laird set the pot and spoon he’d been using on the counter, and faced her. “Go on.”

  “It’s about a trust…”

  “I see. Where is the letter now?”

  “Upstairs.”

  “May I read it?”

  Quinn nodded and went to get it. Considering the letter said Laird was the only person other than Naughton whom she could talk to about it, she saw no reason he shouldn’t read it. When she took it out of the pocket where she’d hidden it, she removed it from the envelope and read it again, running her fingers over the dried ink. She folded it reverently and put it back in the envelope before going downstairs and handing it to him.

  He took his time removing and then unfolding the paper. Before he started reading, he took a deep breath.

  Quinn hadn’t considered this may be hard for him. “I’m sorry,” she murmured.

  He shook his head and slowly read the front and back, and then the front again. He set the paper on the table and sat in one of the chairs. He sighed more heavily than he had before he started reading.

  “Not yet,” was all he said.

  “The letter is specific,” Quinn responded.

  “It is, but it’s too soon.”

  Quinn looked out the window, so tempted to ask if Kade was her father, but so afraid that Laird would confirm he wasn’t. Why would he set up a trust for her if he wasn’t, though? Why would he care what happened to her, or even tell her he loved her very much?

  “I’m asking you to wait; however, the decision is yours, Quinn.”

  She nodded, unsure what to think. The letter said to establish contact with Naughton once she’d read it. There were no other stipulations other than the words “confirmed death.”

>   “You don’t think he’s dead, do you?” she asked.

  Laird sighed again and turned in his chair so he was facing her. “I don’t know.”

  “Why do you want me to wait, then?”

  “I’m asking because there are things at play presently that may compromise both your and Naughton’s safety.”

  “Asking, not telling?”

  “That’s right. You’re an adult, Quinn, and all I can do is ask you to consider my opinion.”

  “Who is Analise?”

  Laird smiled. “My mother.”

  “And Quinn?”

  “I don’t know anyone other than you with that name.”

  She nodded. “I’ll think about it.”

  “That’s all I can ask.”

  “This smells really good, by the way.” She was standing at the stove, stirring the soup.

  “Have you had Cock-a-leekie soup?”

  When Quinn told him she hadn’t, he explained it was a Scottish recipe made of leeks, chicken, and rice. He added that, to be authentic, it would be garnished with prunes. However, neither he nor Sorcha liked them.

  “Thank you,” she murmured.

  “I’ll pass your appreciation on to Sorcha.”

  Quinn’s eyes opened wide. “But—”

  “Remember that she and I spent much time with you when you were little.”

  “Does she know I’m here now?” If she did, why wasn’t she here? Why didn’t the letter say she could talk to Sorcha as well as Laird? Didn’t Sorcha want to see her? Her eyes filled with tears at the thought.

  “She does, and she’s anxious to see you again. However—”

  “It isn’t safe.”

  “For you, Quinn. It isn’t safe for you.”

  “You’re here.”

  Laird didn’t respond, but she knew the difference.

  —:—

  Mercer volunteered to tail Maddox and Naughton Butler when they went wine tasting that afternoon. Everyone had been taking his share of surveillance, which could be boring as hell.

  He followed them to Pear Valley, went into the tasting room, and grabbed a seat near the back of the crowded bar. From there he could see outside, where Maddox and Naughton were sitting with Alex and Bradley. Moments later, Mercer received a text from one of K19’s operatives at the same time the two brothers came inside.