Cochise: A Montana Bounty Hunters Story

by Devlin, Delilah

  He watched with interest as she approached the vehicle, keeping at a safe angle as she neared the car. She reached for the radio on her shoulder. “Dispatch, I need you to run a plate.” She gave the dispatcher the plate information while he listened to the radio inside the car.

  A few seconds later, dispatch responded. “The car’s registered to Loretta Mackinaw. She has an outstanding warrant for possession of a controlled substance.”

  The officer’s body tensed.

  Cochise rolled down his window to listen as she shouted for the driver to put her hands on the dash.

  The first hint there was trouble was Officer McCallister flicking the strap on her holster and drawing her gun. A shot rang out, and she dove beside the car.

  Cochise slid across the bench, lifting his legs to get past the equipment blocking his way, and settled into the driver’s seat just as the Taurus pulled out onto the road, a black cloud gusting from the exhaust pipe.

  Putting the squad car in drive, he pulled up beside the officer and shouted through the open window, “Get in!”

  She didn’t argue, sliding into the passenger side seat, flipping on the siren, and reaching for the radio. “Dispatch. Shots fired. I’m in pursuit of that blue Taurus.” She gave her location while Cochise concentrated on keeping on Mackinaw’s tail.

  “You okay?” he asked, not taking his gaze off the car ahead.

  “Missed me. Not that she meant to.”

  They passed the outskirts of town and entered the open highway.

  “Just thirty fucking minutes,” she muttered.

  “How long do we follow?” he asked, wondering if they’d run up against the county line and pass the problem to the next jurisdiction.

  “There’s a crossroads up ahead. Open. No trees or buildings. Think you can get close enough to perform a PIT maneuver?” She cussed again. “Goddamn, I should be behind the wheel. Sheriff’ll have my ass.”

  He grinned and gunned the accelerator, closing the distance between the vehicles. Further down the road, he saw the crossroads, no other vehicles in sight. “Let’s do it.”

  Another punch of gas, and he pulled into the left lane. Coming even with the left rear wheel of the Taurus, he turned into the car, giving it a solid slam. The Taurus began to spin left, and Cochise braked, slowing the car to watch as the Taurus continued its spin and took out the stop sign across the intersection before coming to a halt. The driver faced them through the windshield.

  All Cochise saw was frizzy mud-brown hair and a red face.

  Officer McCallister toggled the loudspeaker and raised her mic. “Loretta, put your hands on the dashboard.”

  The woman complied, although her frown didn’t abate.

  Officer McCallister gave him a quick glance. “There’s a rifle in the trunk. Key’s on the ring.”

  He gave a nod, turned off the engine, and let himself out of the car, making sure to keep the driver’s side door open as a shield. He retrieved the rifle and returned, crouching behind the door. He glanced across the empty seat to where the female officer stood, crouching behind her open door. She finished calling in a request for backup, and then her gaze met his across the expanse.

  “Whatever move you want to make,” he said, “I have your back.”

  Chapter 2

  Sammy looked up from the report she was filling out to stare through the glass window of the sheriff’s small office. Cochise had been seated in front of his desk for the past forty minutes. Voices were muffled, so the sheriff had settled down a bit since he’d arrived at the crossroads to find a bounty hunter holding a rifle pointed at Loretta Mackinaw as she lay on her belly, bleeding from a gunshot wound to her thigh while Sammy applied pressure to the wound.

  The shot had been precise, embedding in fleshy meat, all major blood vessels missed.

  She remembered the moment he’d looked across that leather bench seat and said, Whatever move you want to make…

  Good Lord, he’d taken away her breath. The fact he was beautiful—sharp, high cheekbones, red-brown skin, eyes so dark they were almost black…well, that was only the beginning of what made her so aware of him. Also enticing was the inky dark hair that he scraped so negligently back in a ponytail that hit him between the shoulder blades, like he was growing it out.

  Holy fuck, she remembered the first time she’d seen him. In Gladys Morton’s bakery on Main Street, or rather leaving the bakery as she’d been parked across the street. Her hand had been on the door latch, and she’d frozen the moment he’d walked out, squinted up into the sunshine, and then slid shades over his eyes. His body was perfect—tall, broad shoulders, well-sculpted arms, lean waist. She’d been ready to run his plates just to find his address—strictly against the rules, but she might have, if she hadn’t noticed he exited with Dagger Renfrew, someone she knew worked at Montana Bounty Hunters.

  Once she’d confirmed with the sheriff that they had a new hunter in town, she’d grudgingly put a brake on her interest. Bounty hunters were cowboys—dangerous ones, who didn’t like rules and didn’t play well with others. She couldn’t count the number of times she’d sat in her patrol car, while hunters broke into homes on some flimsy excuse for probable cause to take down a bad guy. In her opinion, they loved the chase, didn’t care who got hurt in the process, and counted their ill-gotten gain all the way to the bank, while police officers had to follow the rules, to the freaking letter, or their careers were toast.

  Still, she was grateful Cochise had been there today. After she’d gotten Loretta out of the car and moving toward the center of the highway with her hands held high, Sammy had moved away from her door, her weapon pointed at the woman. When she’d given Loretta the order to go to her knees, the woman had given her a small, cold smile and reached behind her neck.

  Cochise dropped her the second he’d seen the glint of metal in her hand. Her own reflexes hadn’t been that quick. And he’d done it without killing the woman. Even though he wasn’t deputized in this state, he’d followed the rules and made the right call. He might also have saved her life, or at least, saved her from making a shot she’d have to live with for the rest of her days.

  Sammy hoped the sheriff saw it that way, too, and that he wouldn’t fire her for giving Cochise her weapon.

  Yes, this was Montana, and the sheriff’s office wasn’t some big city department where everyone covered their asses to prevent lawsuits, but an officer of the law was expected to hold true to certain rules.

  The door opened, and Cochise strode toward her desk. “Suppose it’s too much to ask…”

  She fought a begrudging smile. He already thought she was the biggest bitch. Best to keep him at a distance. “Let me check with the sheriff to see if he needs anything else.”

  He nodded, and she slipped into the Sheriff Miller’s office. She slid her report across his desk, and then waited for him to glance up.

  His gaze narrowed on her. Same look he always gave her. She was the first female deputy he’d ever hired. She supposed he might have felt like he had to and resented the fact. He hadn’t exactly been welcoming. Eight months in, and she still waited for a sign he approved of the job she was doing.

  He sat back in his chair and drummed his fingers on his desk. His gaze remained on her, and she stood still, hands planted in the middle of her lower back while she waited for him to say whatever he was going to say.

  His lips pursed, and then he gave her a nod. “Good call back there. Your instincts, trusting that hunter…” He nodded again. “Good call. Now, get out of here.”

  She went to attention then turned on her heel and left his office. Once outside, her eyebrows rose. What the hell had just happened? Was he happy she’d trusted a man to take the shot? She didn’t know whether to laugh or be pissed.

  Cochise straightened from where he’d been leaning against her desk. “Everything okay?”

  She nodded and grabbed the keys to her truck. “I’ll give you that lift.”

  Once outside on the sidewalk, he touc
hed her sleeve. “You had her, you know. You didn’t need me there.”

  “I know.” And she smiled.

  His gaze flickered over her mouth then back up. The corners of his eyes wrinkled. “I’ll follow you,” he said, waving an arm for her to lead the way.

  A man who had her back. Who didn’t think he’d had to be there to “save” her.

  Easy, Sammy, she warned herself. Just because he was easy on the eyes and knew his way around a rifle didn’t mean she could let down her guard. He was a bounty hunter. One day, they’d wind up on opposite sides of a bad situation. “We’re here,” she said, grimacing because she knew her truck looked like a POS.

  Twenty years had passed since the new car smell had faded. Most days, Sammy didn’t give a rat’s ass what anyone thought of her wheels. She’d inherited the truck from her dad, knew all its foibles, had changed out most of what was under the hood, other than the engine. So, the old Chevy had some miles on her, she still rumbled like a tiger.

  She pointed at the passenger-side door. “You have to lift it while you pull the handle…”

  Turning on her heel, she went around the truck and climbed into the driver’s seat. When she turned the key, she smiled at the way it purred. So, the engine was too loud for her to ever enjoy her radio, but the truck was paid for. It had personality. Sammy tapped the dashboard, as was her habit, a good luck gesture her dad had always made, and dropped the gear stick into reverse.

  Ten minutes later, she pulled into the parking lot in front of Montana Bounty Hunters.

  Cochise climbed down and stared across at her. “See you around, Samantha.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Sammy.”

  His dark eyes sparkled, and he lifted his chin. Then he turned and walked away.

  She found it strange that the sunlight dimmed as he left her. Suddenly, her long night’s shift weighed on her body. She hadn’t felt tired for a second when he’d been with her. Sammy shook her head and moved the gearshift into drive, and then picked up her phone and hit the first number on her speed dial list.

  As soon as she heard the voice on the other end sleepily say, “Hello,” she said, “Need me to pick up anything for breakfast?”

  Her sister groaned. “You woke me up for that?”

  “Time to get up, lazy butt. You’ve got work in an hour.”

  “No, I don’t. Remember, I have two days off? Brady and I are going camping in Kootenai.”

  Sammy made a face. She’d forgotten about her little sis’s “grownup” vacation. Brady was all right. At least, he had a clean rap sheet. But her sister could do better. She was heading to college in the Fall. Sammy’s worry was that her sister would change her mind about going, because she thought she was in love with the young man who worked on one of the area’s ranches. A real cowboy with no prospects. Not that Sammy was a snob. But she was a realist. She didn’t want her sister to always have to work hard. They’d had enough of that life. Once Sheri had college out of the way, Sammy would breathe easier. If, by then, her sister still wanted the cowboy, well at least she could make it on her own. She’d have her own set of prospects.

  Sammy was ready to let go of the apron strings. Ready to concentrate on living her own life. She’d played mom to her kid sister for the past nine years since their parents had died after being stranded on the road during a blizzard. She hadn’t needed a college degree to get into the police academy, and the pay and the respect that came with the job sure beat the hell out of waiting tables. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to be when she “grew up”, but school was still in the back of her mind.

  However, there was no use dreaming about it now. She needed sleep before Brady showed up. Then she’d give him “the talk” about keeping her kid sister safe, and she’d make sure both of them had plenty of condoms. Sheri was sure to throw a fit, but again, Sammy was just being real.

  * * *

  After Cochise heard Sammy’s truck pull away, he wished he could’ve thought of a reason to delay her leaving. He could have invited her in for a cup of coffee. Maybe asked her to breakfast. Or asked her out on a date. She’d have turned him down cold, but he’d have enjoyed watching the fire flash in her eyes and her brows draw into another fierce frown.

  “Hey!”

  Cochise glanced toward Jamie, who sat beside Brian as they reviewed their daily list of available bounties. He sauntered their way, wishing he hadn’t left his keys in his desk, or he would’ve been five minutes away from his bed.

  As he drew near, Jamie shook her head. “Heard about your adventure this morning.”

  His glance went to the police scanner sitting on the corner of Brian’s desk.

  Brian grinned. “Thought I was hearing things when your voice called for an ambulance.”

  Jamie folded her arms over her chest. “Do I need to worry about you jumping ship to join the sheriff’s office?”

  He grunted. “Hell, no. Told you when you hired me, I’m done with departments. Done with the politics. I like this work just fine.” And although he had to fight a yawn first, he asked, “Anything interesting?” and aimed his chin toward the list displayed on the monitor.

  Jamie’s face screwed up. “There are some easy jobs. But there’s one…” She shook her head. “I still can’t believe the judge let this guy out on the street…”

  She clicked on a link and brought up an arrest warrant, then she turned the monitor toward him, and he leaned down to read the name. Luke Ford. The picture was of a man in his early thirties, shaved head, dead eyes. Cochise had lived here long enough to know most of the worst criminals in the area, and Luke Ford was a whole different category of shithead. In his twenties, he’d attacked his girlfriend when she was leaving him, cutting the tendons at the backs of her heels to keep her from getting away. He’d done ten measly years for the assault. The jury had been convinced by his attorney that a man couldn’t rape his girlfriend, so that charge had been dismissed. Didn’t matter he’d mutilated her to make sure he could have her.

  Ten years had turned into seven, and he hadn’t been out on the streets three months before he’d assaulted another woman. But the same judge who’d sat on his criminal trial had granted bail. Now, Ford was in the wind.

  From the look on Jamie’s face, she was feeling like he was. Luke Ford didn’t belong walking free. Hell, as far as Cochise was concerned, he didn’t deserve to exist. The bounty was worth a cool twenty thousand, although Cochise would have done it for free. He met Jamie’s gaze. “We’re going after him, right?”

  “Yeah. I wish more of the team was here.”

  “No new hires? I’m tired of being the probie,” he muttered and arched an eyebrow.

  Brian cleared his throat. “A friend of mine has already applied. He was Army, same as you. And he was a Ranger, so not a lightweight.”

  “He starting today?” Cochise asked, glancing at the boss.

  Jamie was already reaching for the phone. “I should probably tell you a thing or two about him…”

  “Just get him here. I need to head home to shower and clear my head. I’ll be back in an hour.”

  With a new sense of purpose, Cochise headed out the door. Another day, another scumbag. Best part of his job was delivering the bastards straight to jail. He’d take great satisfaction in dropping Luke Ford in a cage. He couldn’t stand men who got their kicks hurting women. He didn’t understand the appeal. There had to be something dark and twisted in a man’s soul to hurt someone he professed to love.

  He’d never been in love but couldn’t imagine ever getting so enraged with a woman he’d want to savage her. People like Ford made his belly boil. Made him want to “take the shot” whether or not he had the right. Which was why he was in Montana and not still in Denver. He’d taken out the bad guy after being ordered to stand down.

  But he had no regrets. Pedro Gonzalez had already killed the bank’s security guard. He’d threatened to kill the bank manager if he didn’t get a ride to the airport. Like he’d actually believed they’d g
ive him a plane to fly back to Mexico.

  Cochise was sitting on the rooftop across from the bank, staring down the scope as Gonzalez raised his weapon and signaled for the manager to come closer. “Chief, I’ve got the shot,” he said into his mic.

  “Good to know, Mercier. But hold on.”

  Cochise cussed under his breath. Gonzalez was already agitated as hell. A simple robbery had been spoiled by the security guard who’d halted him just inside the bank’s door. As soon as Gonzalez had pulled his weapon and shot the guard, someone inside the bank had hit the silent alarm. Three minutes later, squad cars arrived, and he’d been trapped inside. Another five, and SWAT had rolled in.

  Looking down his scope, he saw Gonzalez’s lips lift in a snarl, and his finger slid toward the trigger of the gun. He’d already promised there would be blood. A killing for every ten minutes he had to wait for his ride. Cochise drew a slow breath, slowed his heart, and took the shot.

  The review board had been sympathetic. Praised his military record. Didn’t lament Gonzalez’s death one bit. But Cochise had disobeyed an order. Simple as that.

  He’d remained stoic throughout the hearing. His attorney had laid out all the possible actions they could take, including bringing him up on charges, but the lawyer had said he should be happy if they settled for firing him. He didn’t have a chance in hell of being reinstated.

  Cochise had no regrets. Just like he had none about shooting the woman this morning. She was still alive. Maybe next time, she’d think twice about drawing on a cop.

  Just outside of Bear Lodge, he turned onto the gravel road that led to his isolated home. He pulled up beside the house, cut the engine, and sat for a few minutes, letting his head fall back against the headrest. No time for sleep. He’d shower, check his “go bag”, and head back out. Luke Ford was out there. The women in this part of the state weren’t safe. No way could he sit back and hit pause because he was tired.

  Not when every victim wore his sister’s face.