Missing the Stars: Chandler County

by Melissa Sinclair

  “Your blood. Something hit you on the forehead, sliced your head open. I assume it was a piece of the car.” She could hear people around her now that the deafening buzzing had finally subsided a bit. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

  “Are you kidding? My whole body hurts right now.” She tried to make light of the situation but failed miserably.

  “I imagine it is. I see the police are here. Let me handle this for now until you have your wits about you again.”

  “My wits about me? I’m not addled in the head.”

  “You sure about that? I’m not sure how we’re going to handle this situation.”

  “Deniability. We don’t know what happened. The car just exploded. No reason for it. Or we come clean. Involve the local police. Though that is going to get messy since I’m trying to fly under the radar right now.”

  “Agreed. All right, option A, then. It’s not like we have much choice.”

  “It’s going to be a hard sell, especially after the barn fire.”

  She knew he couldn’t disagree with that sentiment. Feeling a little more stable, she tried to push to her feet, but gladly took the hand he offered her after he had stood up. Glancing around, it appeared half of the town—hell, the whole town seemed to be standing around, pointing at the wreckage.

  “Shit, was anyone else hurt?”

  “You were the only one by the car when it blew.”

  “Thank God for that.”

  “No kidding. One thing in our favor.”

  “Really wanted to get my bag out of my SUV.”

  “Wait, you have an SUV, not a car?”

  “Yeah, a Yukon. Why?”

  “Then your vehicle isn’t what blew up. It was an old Ford that went up.”

  A quick glance in the direction of where the explosion originated, and she saw he was right. It most definitely was not her SUV that was on fire. Not that it mattered in the end. There was no way this wasn’t connected—the timing was too perfect.

  “This isn’t a coincidence,” she said, wincing as he tore a piece of his shirt off and pressed it to the wound on her head.

  “Right. But this could work in our favor.”

  It took Jessie a moment to figure it out since she was still a little off from being thrown to the ground, but she suddenly understood what he meant. It would be easy enough to say she just happened to be walking by; it wasn’t her vehicle. Wrong place at the wrong time. Sure, it was pretty ridiculous, considering she had been in a barn fire less than twelve hours ago, but it was still plausible that she was just walking by innocently, minding her business. It wouldn’t be as hard to talk their way out of the situation, so they could get back to the farm. She saw Cole send a quick text just as the police were pulling up.

  “Letting Black know we might be a bit?”

  “Affirmative.”

  They both stopped talking as a police officer, EMT, and firefighters came rushing onto the scene. She recognized Aiden, the firefighter, and Sydney, the EMT from the night before. Aiden was directing another firefighter to get a hose hooked up to a fire hydrant to put out the flames. A good-looking blond officer, with gray eyes and taller than Cole—she would place him about six foot three—was directing an African American officer, who had a military bearing about him, to cordon off the area. Sydney came to her side and started flashing a light in her eyes. She wanted to push the EMT away but didn’t.

  “Looks like a mild concussion.” She probed the cut on Jessie’s head and she couldn’t help but flinch from the contact. It had been a hell of a couple days for her. “This doesn’t look too deep—probably can get away with butterfly stitches.”

  “Just rinse it out and glue it,” Jessie bit out through gritted teeth, then tried to figure out how to address the startled look on Sydney’s face. Shit, no one even knew who she was, and they certainly didn’t know she was an agent. It certainly would come off as strange telling the medic to just glue the cut that was currently bleeding like a sieve. “Sorry, I’m not one for hospitals and I saw enough of the one last night. I would prefer to just triage this and let me go back to the farm.”

  “You really should be seen by a doctor. I’m only an EMT.”

  “Aren’t you going to school to be a doctor?” Cole cut in smoothly. “I’m confident you can bandage her up and send her home. We already spent most of the night at the hospital for her arm…”

  “How is your arm?” Sydney asked, checking the bandage.

  “Hurts like a son of a bitch, but I’ll live.” Jessie tried to smile, but it came off more a grimace than anything else. “We were just coming into town to get my vehicle. In all the excitement at the farm yesterday, I forgot it was here. I’m not sure what happened. One minute I was unlocking my SUV and the next I was flat on my back on the ground and Cole was shouting my name.” She made sure her voice was just loud enough that the officer—who was clearly in charge—could hear her without it sounding too obvious that was her intention all along. Cole was smooth in his corroboration.

  “After we picked up her SUV we were going to stop and get some stuff to grill and then head back to the farm. It’s been too long since I came home. I didn’t realize how relaxing it would be to be back here.” She couldn’t help but think the mention of grilling was a nice touch.

  “I think I’m not really in the mood to grill anymore. A cold beer and a sandwich sounds perfect right now. Combined with a warm bath and putting my feet up.”

  “You really should have your head looked at, though.” Sydney was persistent, but Jessie sensed she was ready to give up the argument.

  “It isn’t my first concussion. Probably won’t be my last.” She paused and then realized how bad that sounded, so added a quick addendum to her statement. “I play in a soccer league.” Not really a lie. Before she went undercover, she had played on the weekends, and if anyone looked, they would find that in her background. It was one of the few things they kept from her actual life.

  “I played soccer too. Concussions can be an issue.” Sydney had finished looking over her arm. “I’m going to suggest you put a clean bandage on this. I would do it for you, but if you’re planning on a bath, I’ll let you take care of it. As for the head wound, I can clean it up and butterfly it or glue it. It’s already stopped bleeding, so that’s good.”

  “It’s probably not as bad as it initially looked. Damn head wounds bleed so much,” Jessie concurred.

  “I’m still not sure about letting you go home. You could have internal trauma.”

  “Trust me, I’m fine.” Sydney shook her head at Jessie, as if she thought she was entirely stupid for not going to the hospital. On a normal day she would have agreed with the EMT, but today was not a normal day, and truth be told? She would have fought going on a normal day as well but would have eventually listened to the medic.

  “I have some medical training as well. In my line of work, it’s a necessity,” Cole offered up.

  “All right, then. I’ll clean it up, but you’ll have to sign off saying you denied transport to the hospital. Grant’s going to want to talk to you.”

  “Grant?” Jessie asked.

  “Sheriff Mullin, the blond man over there. He’s the sheriff of Chandler County and the tall, black man? That’s his right-hand man Martin Evans. Officer Evans probably will be the harder one to sell on letting you go home. He’s going to want a statement right away.”

  “We can manage a statement, but then I’m going to insist that Jessie go back to the farm. I’ll take care of her from there.” Jessie looked up at Cole. His eyes were intently on her. She couldn’t break eye contact if she wanted to.

  “I like the sound of that. I could use someone to take care of me.”

  It was true, but she didn’t have time to rest, because this explosion was meant to kill her. El Diablo had just stepped up his game. The question was, why now? Why had he changed his plan? Either he knew she didn’t know where her parents were, or he just didn’t care. Threatening his family was a stupid move.
/>
  John Ryan, aka El Diablo, was not a happy man. Normally he would allow his underlings to take care of the dirty business of getting rid of problems, but this wasn’t a normal situation, and he needed to make sure that it was taken care of properly. First, the barn fire didn’t go as planned, and now, the idiots put a bomb in the wrong car. Seriously, you couldn’t find good help these days. Whether or not it was a risk to his anonymity, he didn’t have a choice but to go forward. JD and Jessie Carpenter needed to meet their maker and he needed to make sure it was done. Even if it meant he had to pull the trigger himself. After all, he couldn’t allow for another mishap like Hank and Sharon Carpenter and Kevin and Karen Davenport. He should have made sure there was no pulse on any of them that day. But he was smart to have fled. As it was, he’d been dangerously close to one of the bullets taking him out that day, not to mention the backup that son of a bitch had called wasn’t far away when he left the scene.

  None of this would be happening if those cops hadn’t been there that day. It was bad enough they had taken his drugs and money, but if word got out that they didn’t die that day, it would be a major smear on his reputation. He had become a legend after that shootout. A damn legend. Everyone feared him. As they should. It always paid to have people scared of you. Especially if they were people that could be instrumental in helping you out.

  It’s why he went through the trouble of setting up that sniveling, sorry excuse for an FBI agent for dipping his dick where he shouldn’t. Once he’d showed the idiot he’d been caught on video while having some very kinky sex with a prostitute, he was more than willing to do whatever El Diablo asked of him. It was as simple as that; El Diablo had an inside source that could tell him any and every step the FBI was taking to come after him.

  Not only had he been warned of raids on his factories and warehouses while his competition was taken down time after time, he was given inside details that helped him evade capture. In return, he actually helped the feds get rid of his competition, and it had been fun helping the FBI. It kept him busy while he searched for the Davenports and Carpenters. Only, they must have figured out Halverson couldn’t be trusted, because they went off grid shortly after he took over their case. Which pissed him off after all the effort he put into getting him in place to take over as their contact. Maybe Halverson was the one that couldn’t be trusted. Maybe he knew where they were and just wasn’t telling him. The thought had occurred to him that he was lying about them not being in touch with him. Nah, Halverson would give up his own children if it would save his ass. The man had no backbone to speak of.

  JD had been useless regarding information gathering. Seems the boy didn’t know his parents were alive. It would appear his dear, sweet sister had been lying to more than one person in her life. In fact, it would appear she was a master liar. Although, he let her infiltrate his network only because Halverson told him who she was, but she was cunning, and if he hadn’t been told who she was, he felt she would have duped him. Even if Halverson had steered her toward the “undercover operation,” allowing her to think that she came up with volunteering all on her own, El Diablo couldn’t argue that she was gifted at her job.

  Only, now the proverbial cat was out of the bag. Somehow, she had figured out she was compromised and had run. Flew the coop, so to speak, but enough with the idioms. He had hoped to try her on for size before he had her killed. She was hot as hell, and even if she hadn’t been willing—it just would have made it more entertaining for him to tame her—he had wanted a taste. Oh well, it couldn’t be helped. She had to go: she had overstayed her welcome.

  The girl had good instincts though, since she’d gotten out as his men were on their way to get her. Of course, he had good instincts as well and knew she would run to her brother. Fortunately, he’d managed to have him grabbed before she got to him. Grandma had gotten away though and that was a problem that would have to be fixed, but she was hard to get to on a normal day. Now that she had gone to ground, she would be difficult to kill. Difficult—not impossible.

  Now he was on his way to a godforsaken town when he should be relaxing in his house, getting laid. It didn’t really matter who was in his bed, as long as he was getting some action. His wife had been holding out on him, complaining he’d been gone on business too often. Clueless bitch had no idea who he was or that he knew she was screwing her driver. Normally it would bother him, but he needed to keep up appearances of the happy family man. Whether or not he really was. Not to mention he didn’t want to pay her alimony, and there was no way he would let her take his child. Little did Jessie-freaking-James Carpenter know, but threatening him with his wife wouldn’t get her far. His child though, now that was a different story. Where before he might have gone easy on her and killed her quickly, it was personal now.

  So maybe that whole getting to nail her could still happen. He would love to teach her a lesson or two. Yeah, if possible, he was going to grab her and take her to one of his safe houses. He had the perfect one in mind for her. A smile crossed his face—the first in days—as he saw the sign indicating he was almost there.

  19

  Sheriff Mullin had been sympathetic, but he was also suspicious and wanted a complete statement from Jessie. It had been two hours before they returned to the farm and Cole knew she was beat. While they had nothing but suspicion to go on, they’d both commented it was a hell of couple of days they were having. The bad news was, he didn’t buy for a second they wouldn’t keep sniffing around. No way would any law enforcement officer not consider it too coincidental that a barn burned down and a truck exploded with the same two people involved. The old adage, "there are no coincidences" rang true.

  Luckily, they didn’t have more than suspicion on their side, and for now, that would have to be good enough. They could work with that because if luck continued to be on their side, they would be wrapping this up before morning and then they could give the two men a full rundown of what was actually happening.

  When they walked into the farmhouse, they found Harrison and Coop in the kitchen. The men had cooked. Harrison was actually a damn good cook, and Cole found himself salivating at the smell of the food.

  “Have a seat and I’ll dish you up some food,” Harrison said, nodding to Jessie and then one of the empty chairs.

  “I can serve myself,” she mumbled. She wasn’t one to easily lean on someone.

  “Sit down. Before you fall down.” Harrison didn’t back down, he just eyeballed her until she sat down. It seemed that the man was able to get away with bossing her around. Of course, she wasn’t necessarily at the top of her game at the moment and Cole appreciated that he wasn’t the one who had to get tough with Jessie. Pride be damned, the woman looked like she had been about to tip over, just like Harrison had said. But if Cole would have asked her to sit down, he didn’t think she would’ve listened.

  Harrison set a plate in front of her and she inhaled deeply. The small gesture was enough to heat his blood. How could her inhaling be enough to make him want to jump her? Cole found he was trying to convince himself it was the adrenaline of the last day and a half.

  “This smells wonderful. I haven’t had chicken chili in forever.” She blew on the spoon and took a small bite as he placed tortilla chips and a plate of what looked like enchiladas on the table. “This is amazing.”

  “I’m glad you like it. It’s good if you dip chips in it as well. I know you’re hungry.”

  “Jiminy Cricket, where did you come from?” Harrison just blinked at her for a bit and then shrugged.

  “A small town in northern Wisconsin.” He smiled sheepishly when she laughed.

  “If everything you make tastes this good, you’re going to make one lucky lady very happy.”

  Cole watched the exchange quietly and then dished himself a bowl of the chicken chili and sat down. As much as he wanted to hate it—strictly because of the way she had looked at Harrison—it tasted spectacular. After Jessie had eaten a full bowl of the savory chili and one enchila
da, she sat back, proclaiming she was stuffed and Cole found himself feeling relieved.

  “Do you mind if I take a shower?” she asked Coop.

  “Not at all. Cole can show you where to find everything. If you don’t have a change of clothes, I can probably dig out a box of our mom’s and find something that isn’t too dated.” He smiled a bit sadly. “I guess it was a good thing I didn’t get rid of it all?”

  “I had a change of clothes in the go bag I managed to grab on my way out of town. But thank you. It means a lot to me that you would allow me to wear something that is your mother’s.” She patted his hand and stood, stretched, and left the room.

  “If you don’t scoop that girl up and never let her go, I’m going to give you a run for your money,” Harrison said. Coop found the expression Cole leveled at both of them hysterical because he snorted.

  “I’d be careful there, Harrison. I think Cole has marked his territory.”

  “Down, boy; I was just making a statement of your utter stupidity if you let her go.”

  “Duly noted,” Cole said through clenched teeth.

  “I think the message is loud and clear. After the daggers you kept throwing my way while we ate, I just wanted to make sure it was over some perceived threat regarding the sexy redhead or if it was something else I’d done. Clearly it’s all about the woman who’s about to get all naked and soaped up. Better run along and help her out.” Harrison smirked at him as he turned on his heel and left the room, but Cole couldn’t leave without a parting shot.

  “I would be careful, Black. I know your weak spot for a certain lady back in Wisconsin. Maybe you should focus on solving your own female problems.” He didn’t feel good about the jab after he saw the way Black’s face closed off. The man had been through a lot recently and didn’t deserve to have his frustration taken out on him. “Listen, I’m sorry…”

  “No need to apologize. Not when you’re right.” Black shoved back from the table and busied himself cleaning up.