Renner (In the Company of Snipers Book 19)

by Irish Winters

  “I had questions,” Renner admitted, “but now I can see I was wrong. None of you are involved with Montego. Still, I need to ask, do you have any idea who’s helping her? Seven men are missing as of yesterday, and you know as well as I do, she can’t do this by herself.”

  “She never did…” Aaron breathed. “Before Seth offed her brother, Roland helped set her up in that hellhole of a warehouse where she kept us. Have you seen it?”

  “No, but I heard about it. State’s still got it under lock and key.”

  “They need to burn it. Roland was the genius who planted those pressure plates and bought the chipper.” Aaron’s shoulders flinched talking about the torture he’d survived. “And I promise, all it takes is the right incentive, and a guy’ll do whatever he can to save himself.”

  “Are you guys doing anything to find her?”

  “No,” Aaron replied. Quickly. Too quickly.

  Not that Renner believed him. He offered another handshake. “Good talking to you. I’ll be around.”

  Aaron looked past his extended hand. “She’s coming, you know. Today. Here. That bitch is coming here. Do you know why?”

  “Because Kelsey’s here,” Renner replied gently, concerned this man might be worried for his men or his life.

  “Guess again.” Aaron widened his stance in the way of all alpha males. Those missing digits didn’t diminish the Marine in this guy, not one bit. “She thinks she still owns us, Staff Sergeant. Yeah, she might go after Kelsey to torture Alex, but she knows damned well where we are. Why do you think she smooth talked McCormack into doing that goat rope here, inside Raymond’s place? With all these kids? He already made his announcement, why does he need a ribbon cutting ceremony on top of yesterday’s press release? With the weather as bad as it is? Hell, the workers he sent over yesterday haven’t even cleared a spot for the press to watch McCormack make a big deal out of lifting that first shovelful. I’m telling you, Alex took Montego’s brother and then he took us away from her. Mark my words, she wants her slave army back. That’s why she’s coming. I have a really bad feeling this next show of hers will be the frosting on her ‘Fuck America’ cake. But you also need to know...”

  Renner waited while Aaron breathed. His chest heaved. In and out. Steadily. Slowly. As if he’d zenned out to regain the calm he’d lost. He seemed lost in space, his gaze fixed on Renner but looking through him. At last, he rubbed his good hand over his forehead. “Alex didn’t find all of us last time, Graves. There were—are—more victims.” The cords in his neck tightened. “More men. Nine more. That I know of.”

  “Jesus Christ, why haven’t you said anything?”

  “Because I didn’t know about her other prison, torture chamber, whatever you want to call it, until today. But I didn’t want to say anything because Kelsey’s worried enough. These guys got away from Montego last time, somehow. They escaped the same kind of crap-hole we were in. One of them contacted me early this morning, told me everything, including details only we would know. Guess McCormack’s announcement shook the bushes and these guys fell out. They’re pissed and they’re hellbent on revenge. They won’t come in.”

  “What do you mean? As in they won’t come into Kelsey’s?”

  “As in they won’t go to the police. Montego castrated them, Graves. They’re not just victims, they’re monsters, tortured in ways you can’t imagine. The guy I talked to said they stay apart to stay angry. They don’t want help or handouts. Only Montego. And it doesn’t matter how they get her.”

  “Sounds like they just went to the head of the line.”

  Aaron nodded. “But if they show today, if they go after her at any cost…”

  Renner saw where he was going. Holy Jesus. Clusterfuck in progress. “They’ll hurt or kill anyone who gets in their way.”

  “And the bitch will get away again. You need to cancel this show.”

  “And lose our shot at taking Montego down? No. We don’t know anything for sure. All we’ve got is the word of some guy who claims to be her victim. Have you seen him? Do you know his name? Can we be certain any of this is credible intel?”

  “No, I haven’t met him,” Aaron admitted, “and he wouldn’t give me a name. Said he knew me, though.”

  “How? How could he find you?”

  “Easy. Every time Montego’s name comes up in the news, Alex’s name comes with it, then mine by association. He’s the hero. I’m the fucked-up poster boy of all she did to me and my men.”

  “Then stand with us,” Renner urged. “I’ll make sure Kelsey’s got double-protection in case these guys do show. We’ll move the kids to a secure location. Together we can bring that bitch down. You with me?”

  Aaron swallowed hard, his throat muscles working, his jaw tense. It took a moment, but at last he said, “We are with you.”

  Not I’m with you. Not we’re with you. But ‘we’ are with you. The collective we, as if he’d just spoken for all the males Montego had ever tortured.

  Made Renner wonder all over again who Aaron Pope was and exactly what he had become.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “You’re still hurt,” Kelsey insisted. “Why didn’t you stay in the hospital?”

  “You’re a great one to talk. Told Alex about that shiner yet?”

  Kelsey’s hand flew to her bruised cheek and eye. “You can see it?”

  “Like a lighthouse.” Tara gave her best friend her wickedest scowl. “You need better make-up, girl. The light coverage crap you use won’t hide a neon sign like that.”

  “Darn,” Kelsey muttered as she headed out the cafeteria doors. “Help me. I don’t want anyone to know I’ve been hit until I have the chance to tell Alex.”

  “What’d you use yesterday?”

  “The same brand, but the bruise wasn’t as bad then. Mostly just yellow. Great, just what I need, something else to worry about.”

  Tara followed Kelsey across the hall to her office. “Wow, you came prepared,” she said when Kelsey opened her backpack and started dumping jars of make-up on the desk.

  “Hurry. Which do you think will cover best?”

  One looked as good as the next. “Hold your arm out. Let’s test.”

  Dab after dab met the inside of Kelsey’s arm until they decided which foundation provided sufficient coverage. It took seconds to cover the bruise. “You still need ice to slow the swelling. Hold on. Let me grab one of those tiny chill packs you use on the kids when they get a boo-boo.”

  “Grab one for yourself,” Kelsey called out. “Make that a couple. Have you even looked at yourself today?”

  Come to think of it… “Umm, no. I’ve been kind of… busy.” Busy all over Renner. Man, was it hot in here? Tara leaned into the full-length mirror behind Kelsey’s door, avoiding her friend’s sharp eyes. “Crap-a-roni, what the hell?” Make-up was not going to cover the mess that her face was. “That jerk! Why didn’t Renner say anything? I look like Frankenstein!”

  “Oh, you do not, you big baby. Sit down. Here.” Kelsey backed Tara into the chair next to her desk and tipped her chin up, assessing the damage Jorge had done, angling her head from side to side. Humming. Making those sweet little sounds only Kelsey made when she knew you were hurting but she didn’t want you to know how bad you looked. “Those butterfly bandages over your eye make you look like a bantamweight boxer who just got her ass handed to her, that’s all.”

  “Give it a rest. Both my eyes are black, Kels. I look like a friggin’ raccoon.”

  Kelsey’s lips curved with suppressed humor. “And you called me out for my little shiner? It’s nothing compared to yours.”

  That was actually funny. Tara chuckled. “My bad. Damn. He did a number on me.”

  “What else did he do to you?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it. Just glad Renner got there when he did. Thanks for calling him instead of—”

  “The police or Alex, yes, I know. It’s always easier to keep things like this
lowkey. So, Renner, huh?”

  Tara nodded, her cheeks warming at the thought of that kiss. “He does seem to show up in the darnedest places.”

  “That he does,” Kelsey murmured as she licked her thumb and rubbed something off the middle of Tara’s forehead. “Alex thinks a lot of Renner’s mom.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “He ever tell you about his dad?”

  “We’ve only just met, remember?”

  “Sometimes that’s all it takes,” Kelsey murmured, though it sounded like she meant that more for herself than Tara. “Renner’s dad, Metro PD Detective Cody Graves was murdered in the line of duty a few years back. Brenda took it hard. Heck, the whole city took it hard. There was a parade. Flags flew at half-staff. A lot of businesses shut down. Because Alex had worked with Cody before, Brenda asked us to walk with her and her daughter behind the hearse. Renner was in the Corps and deployed then. His CO said he was unreachable, working some covert op in Pakistan. Alex managed to locate him, but Renner chose not to come home. There. You look—passable.”

  Tara looked up at Kelsey. “He missed his dad’s funeral?” Unbelievable.

  “Yes. I’m not sure why. Alex never said, but for Renner to have chosen his job over his mom and dad, tells me his mission was extremely important.”

  That’s why he drinks, Tara thought. That’s what’s eating at him. He regrets his decision.

  “So how do we look?” Kelsey asked as she tugged Tara up to look in the mirror.

  The resemblance was uncanny. “Mah-velous. We look simply mah-velous, dah-ling.”

  “Hey, lady, where’s Tara?”

  Kelsey looked up from where she knelt polishing the front door, glass-cleaner in one hand, paper towels in the other. “Hi, Renner. She’s around here somewhere.”

  “Didn’t we agree you were ordering pizza instead of cleaning?”

  She grinned up at him. “Oops. Guess I am a little OCD. It’s just that these windows—”

  “Can wait. Come on. Up, up, up.” Renner gave her his hand, fluttering his fingers to get her to move. “Off the floor. We need to talk. With Montego coming—”

  “Bet I know what you’re thinking,” Kelsey said as she lifted to her feet. “Don’t worry. The kids won’t be here when Jed arrives. I’ve already made arrangements with Sister Betsy at the Catholic orphanage. She and her staff are taking everyone on a field trip to National Harbor. They’ve earned Christmas money. They need to shop. The bus will be here any minute.”

  This woman had thought of everything. “What about your choir?”

  Her shoulders lifted. “I changed my mind, canceled that right after I ordered pizza. No child wants to sit through a presentation just to sing a song anyway. Boring.”

  “Now you’ve got it. But listen…” Renner scanned the front entry of the repurposed high school. Crown molding, probably wood. Drop ceilings, most likely a fire-retardant combination of compressed paper, plastic, and fiberglass. Fire alarm. Extinguisher. “Mark and a couple other agents are working with me this afternoon and tonight. They’ll be here soon and I’ve got to run. What time’s Jed arriving? Is there a schedule of events you’d like to tell me about?”

  “Sure. I don’t have printed programs, but basically, he and Governor Tillis both arrive at six, Jed first, the governor second. I’ll meet them here and escort them into the cafeteria.”

  “The press will already be here?”

  “They’re setting up at five.”

  Renner didn’t like that scenario at all. “Not good. I don’t want you anywhere near Montego.”

  “But Raymond’s Kids is my place and—”

  “And Mark and I’ll handle the meet and greet, while you wait with Tara—”

  “While I wait with Tara? Renner,” she said with authentic school-marm authority. “In case you haven’t noticed, this is my place. I’ll be the one welcoming Jed and Governor Tillis, not you or Mark. I know you’ve got my back, but I refuse to be bullied. Besides, I have to accept the actual check tonight. Montego will be with Jed when I do. You can’t do that for me. It wouldn’t be right. Yesterday was just the press announcement. Tonight’s the financial passing of the torch. Trust me, I’ve done this before.”

  He had to look twice at the Kelsey he thought he knew and the one standing in front of him now, challenging him, her lips pursed and her head up, staring him in the eye. “But it’s only for show. He’ll probably just hand you a record of transfer, a fake receipt. What difference will it make?”

  “But I represent Raymond and all the kids who’ve passed through these halls. Me, not you or Mark.” Kelsey’s head came up with fire in her eye. “She’s threatened my family for the last goddamned time. She wants a fight, she’s got one.”

  Renner shook off the sense of Alex emanating from this petite, classy, brown-haired Amazon warrior with a bottle of Windex in her hand. Fierce didn’t begin to cut it. This was the hand that rocked the cradle. By hell, it really did rule the world.

  “Then you and me are going to be intimately acquainted, because tonight, I’ll be stuck to your ass until this cluster—, err, goat rope’s, over.” He wanted to stab himself with a rusty knife for slipping into grunt-speak—with Kelsey of all people.

  She blushed. Kelsey Stewart, who’d just declared herself the supreme lady of the keep—thank you very much—blushed like an embarrassed teenage girl. Now that was the boss’s wife he knew. “Well, if you say so,” she murmured. “It would be nice having a right-hand man at my—”

  “Hey, guys.” Thank God! Tara appeared out of nowhere and interrupted, saving him from further humiliation.

  Renner scratched that ache between his eyes, the one caused by the perpetual frown that seemed to be etching a canyon with each passing minute. One more complication and that ache would turn into an actual divot. “Sorry, ma’am, but it’s my job to keep you safe and—”

  “No, it isn’t,” Kelsey politely interrupted, her tone as patient as if she were talking to one of her kids. “Your job is to apprehend Montego. Look around. Do I look like I’m in any way unguarded?”

  “Well, ah…” Now that she mentioned it, he had passed Harv in the hall. Zale and Ricky were clearly visible on the other side of those sparkling clean windows. Both out in front, one at the top of the steps, the other posted near the flagpole. Both on guard. All three men capable and seemingly her devoted sidekicks.

  Okay then. Renner could keep his distance for now. The rounds in his pistol on the other hand, that—he couldn’t promise.

  “What’d I miss?” Tara asked, looking first at Kelsey, then to Renner, her brows lifted.

  “We’re discussing personal safety,” Renner replied evenly.

  “Anything I can help with?” asked the woman who should be home resting, instead of rambling around this halfway house like she was simply back on the job after a night on the town.

  “You can let me drive you home,” Renner said. “Kelsey’s got things handled here.”

  “Nah, I thought I’d hang around for a while,” Tara answered, her fingers light on his shoulder, her eyes bright. “You know, make sure all the kids get on the bus. Put out the welcome mat. Stuff like that.”

  Renner ran his thumb over her cheek, relishing the feel of her skin, the angle of her jaw as he cupped her face. “Why the make-up?”

  Both Tara’s shoulders lifted. “Didn’t want to scare the kids. No big deal.”

  “Did you see Brandon and Turley shoving each other while we were singing? Did you get a chance to talk to them yet?” Kelsey asked.

  Tara nodded. “Not sure what really happened to them yet, but yeah. We had a little chat.”

  “They’ve been picking at each other since yesterday. Once this is over, I need to sit down with them.”

  Great. Just what Renner didn’t need, another complication. “Are we talking kids with knives or gang affiliation?”

  “No, just twin seven-year-old brothers who showed up on our doorste
p four days ago. Family Services already interviewed them and their parents. They’re mine until a foster family takes them.”

  “Abuse?” he asked.

  “That’s the thing, one says yes, the other vehemently denies it,” Kelsey answered.

  “And yet here they are,” Tara added dryly. “So, yeah. I need to hang out, see who needs to talk, who needs to cry. You know, the normal stuff lost kids do when their worlds fall apart. But go. I’ll be okay.”

  “Nah, I’m staying.” Renner didn’t need a tux anymore. Not for pizza.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Tara stood in the kitchen, watching Renner and Aaron with Mark Houston, Seth McCray, and Beckam Garner, all handsome-as-hell, kickass males who somehow made everything around them seem small and fragile. They were standing at the wide-open cafeteria doors, embroiled in a heated debate. All dressed the same as Renner. Black polos, jeans, and boots, all wearing identical black TEAM jackets, which she now knew concealed holsters and pistols, maybe a knife or two. Except for Renner. He was in his leather cut, looking more like he’d just ridden in with a motorcycle club.

  They’d arrived an hour ago, and together with Kelsey’s guys—aka the ones Montego had previously tortured, but who now lived on-site as guards slash men-who-had-nowhere-else-to-go—they’d cleared the entire building of perceived threats. As expected, the worst they’d found was Jessica’s stash of Pepperidge Farm Goldfish hidden under some t-shirts in the bottom drawer of her dresser. That girl. Did she think she could get away with not sharing her special treats with her favorite arch nemesis and verbal sparring partner? We’ll just see about that.

  Since she’d arrived in the same grungy clothes Jorge had beaten her in, Tara had showered in Kelsey’s private bathroom, then changed into one of the many spare outfits Kelsey kept on hand. She and Kelsey could’ve been twin sisters the way this soft hunter-green sweater top and these dark brown jeans fit. Rider brand. Interesting.

  Tara should have known Kelsey would loan her something practical and sturdy. She never ascribed to the latest fads or high fashion. She was one of those steadfast, practical bargain shoppers who purchased reliability instead of glitz. And Tara knew why. She’d seen the scars Kelsey covered with make-up, long sleeves, and high collars. And Kelsey had seen Tara’s scars. They’d both suffered at the hands of heartless bastards, and they both knew the high cost of their past mistakes of trusting the wrong kind of guys. How could Tara not love Kelsey? They were sisters of the same heart who’d somehow found each other.