Bait the devil, p.17
Bait the Devil, page 17
“Shouldn’t we wait for the police?” Loren asked as he hurried to follow them.
“And give them time to regroup and send another kill squad? Fuck no.” Cassius reached his haphazardly parked and still-running SUV and threw open the passenger door. “Get in.”
Vivian did as ordered. Loren climbed into the back passenger seat. Once Cassius was in the driver’s seat, he threw the SUV into gear and floored it. As they passed a parked car, Vivian realized in horror the windows were spiderwebbed and blood painted the inside.
“Who was that?”
“Your supposed security detail,” Cassius replied coldly.
“My security detail? Why would you put a security detail on me?”
“I didn’t.”
“Would someone mind telling me what the hell is going on?” Loren demanded from the back seat.
“Mr. McLaughlin, I’d like to know myself.”
Vivian sank into her seat. She noticed for the first time that she was massaging a hard grip and looked down at her lap. The Glock lay there, harmlessly. She released the gun and clutched her hands.
She’d killed a man. She had pulled the trigger and ended another person’s life.
A warm hand descended on hers. She was trembling. Cassius glanced over and squeezed her hands.
“You did what you had to do. You’re alive because of it. Consider that.”
Vivian nodded jerkily and let out a shuddering breath as she allowed Cassius to be her anchor. He picked up the Glock and flicked the safety on, then carefully tucked it into the console as he drove.
With the gun out of sight, Vivian found a way to relax. A little.
“Where are we going?” she asked when they left Boise city limits.
“The safest place for you.” Cassius looked at her. “Ybarra ranch.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
“How’s Dot holding up?” Steve asked.
He and one of his security guys met up with T.J. and Dot at the Las Vegas airport, where they had Eriksson’s man drop them off to get the borrowed helicopter.
“She’s struggling, man. I had to remind her we needed to come get the helo in order to get back to Boise. She wants Follman’s blood.”
At least Dot had slept on the ride here. How much good it did her remained to be seen. He’d managed to catch a few zzzs, too, but he couldn’t stop the blame playing on repeat. Dot had reminded him this was not about bounty hunting. She was not fully on board with a side gig, even if it was working with federal law enforcement.
The loudest part skipping around in his head? He should have closed up shop in Boise and moved her to Euskadi weeks ago. They would never have been involved with this.
Steve winced. “I feel for her, but she was insulated from what we saw every time we went into the field. Up there, flying those Blackhawks, she wasn’t boots on ground and she didn’t face the realities we did.”
“Don’t discredit her, Stevo. She was front and center during Abbey Gate.”
“Aww, fuck.” Steve’s shoulders sagged. “You didn’t tell me that.”
“Not my story to tell. She don’t talk about it anyway.”
Steve scratched the side of his bald head. “How you doin’?”
T.J. watched Dot as she finalized her preflight check. They’d already loaded their gear into the copter. “I’m doin’ about as good as any man in my position.”
He met Steve’s knowing gaze. Nothing more needed said.
“By the way, have you told Dot about the other thing?” Steve asked.
T.J. looked away. “There’s no reason to get her any more worked up over something that trivial.”
“Man, I saw the look on her face when you two showed up at the restaurant the other night. You didn’t tell her we were meeting up until you got there, didn’t you?”
T.J. gave his molars a good workout.
Steve gripped his shoulder and squeezed. “There’s some things you need to stay quiet about because of your job. Then there’s hiding things from people who are supposed to trust you because you’re scared of the fallout.” He leaned closer. “I learned the hard way with Dana. Don’t do that with Dot.”
“I’ll tell her as soon as I can.”
“Don’t wait.” Steve slapped his shoulder.
“You better get back to Dana,” T.J. said. “I don’t know how good Follman’s resources are, but you both should get out of town before he connects us. The payback for his missing merchandise is sure to find a way to you.”
“We’ve got a place off the books. Don’t worry about us. Just find this Caleb guy and shut that motherfucker Follman down.”
They shared a back-slapping man hug, and T.J. watched his old army friend leave. The admonishment of not keeping Dot in the loop still stung, but Steve was right. God, Stevo giving him relationship advice. The irony was not lost on T.J.
He had to tell Dot. Fuck, the blowback from her, especially in her current state of mind, was sure to be epic. Probably best to lead with his plans to move the business to Euskadi.
As Steve’s vehicle faded from sight, T.J.’s phone rang. Larrabee was calling him. Then Eriksson’s burner phone went off.
T.J. decided to pass up the Idaho state investigator for now and answered the other phone.
“We’ve got a problem,” Eriksson said.
“And hello to you, too, Agent. How are Dot and I holding up? Why just fucking peachy. I’ve got a Basque wildcat on my hands who wants nothing more than to commit murder with her bare hands because some fucktard decided to steal young girls from the Middle East and bring them here for God knows what purpose. But I’m pretty certain we all know what that purpose is.”
“Sarcasm does not become you, Roman,” Eriksson rebutted.
“What the fuck do you want?”
“To tell you we’ve got a problem. One of my other CIs connected with an associate of Follman has reached out to warn me the whole network is on red alert. Your and Dot’s little stunt to rescue those girls has reached them and they’re coming for you.”
“Let ’em.”
“Do you forget there is a rogue Mossad agent in their midst?”
“I look forward to meeting him. If he’s all about kidnapping and raping children, then let me at him.”
Eriksson sighed. “I don’t know how involved he is. I don’t know how involved any of them are. Cade Porter—”
“We can stop with the fake names with this guy. He’s Caleb Podolsky, and that’s how he’ll be called.”
Eriksson’s exasperated sigh almost warmed T.J.’s ear. “As I was saying. Caleb was getting closer to finding out all that information right before he was attacked and he disappeared.”
“Seems to me you don’t know much of anything, do you?” T.J.’s phone went off again. “And like an idiot, I allowed myself to be sweet-talked by you into something I should have walked away from.” He looked at the screen. Larrabee again.
“I wasn’t keen on you or Dot going into this. But I got desperate. You both have the skills necessary for this.”
“Eriksson, don’t placate me. We did what was right and that was rescuing those girls and turning them over to you. Don’t be like every other government agency and fuck it up further. It was not nice working with you, so let’s never talk again. Bye.” He hung up and answered the call from Larrabee as Dot was walking toward him. “What’s up?”
Dot frowned and crossed her arms. She looked like shit. And now she was planning to put in another two-plus hours in the air to get them home. She probably hadn’t done this much flying since her first tour in Afghanistan.
“Where are you?” Larrabee asked.
T.J. put the phone on speaker for Dot to hear. “Getting ready to leave Las Vegas. Why?”
“Someone put a hit out on Vivian.”
T.J.’s guts bottomed out. Dot’s tanned features turned a darker shade of red.
“I got to her in time, but it wasn’t easy,” Larrabee said. “Whoever came at her killed a pair of federal agents who had been posted to watch her.”
Eriksson. He’d be the only one who’d have Vivian watched. That would be how he knew about the files.
“Where is she?” Dot asked.
“I’ve got her and one of her colleagues with me. I’m taking her to your ranch,” Larrabee said. “I’m pulled over at a rest stop so she could use the restroom. Dot, she had to kill a man.”
Dot jerked the phone from T.J.’s hand and walked away with it to have that conversation in private.
T.J. let her go.
The burner phone vibrated in his hand. Eriksson was a persistent pissant.
Should he answer it? T.J. knew what Dot would want him to do. Cut the ties. This was no longer their problem and she’d want to keep it that way.
The phone continued to buzz.
Twenty yards away, Dot was in conversation with Larrabee.
A familiar tingling sensation coursed through T.J. It was the feeling he’d get before every mission. A high as adrenaline pumped into his veins and put him in an elevated state of alertness. He couldn’t be that guy anymore. This wasn’t a mission into the field where he was seeking out pockets of insurgents.
T.J. dropped the still-buzzing phone to the tarmac and smashed it, grinding it into the pavement.
“Let’s go!”
He walked away from the pieces and joined Dot in the helicopter.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Dawn’s gray light melded with the red-orange glow of the sunrise as Vivian emerged from Larrabee’s SUV. A chorusing pack of dogs swarmed around her legs; some sniffed and licked her legs, no doubt finding flecks of blood. Vivian stretched her arms above her head and felt the tense, aching muscles in her back give.
Despite the swirl of flashbacks and bouncing nerves, Vivian managed to catch a nap. When she didn’t think it would ever happen, she begged Cassius to let her drive some of the route to Euskadi. He flat out refused her offer to reprieve him and gave no reason why. She eventually gave up and somehow succumbed to her exhaustion.
Even with Loren snoring from the back seat.
The clap of a screen door drew Vivian’s and the dogs’ attention to the house.
Angela Ybarra was a woman cut from the roughened cloth of a bygone era. She carried more of the features of the mountain-region Basque than her daughter. Where Dot was tall, willowy, and a dusky blonde, Angela was shorter in stature, had darker hair, and a larger flat nose. Where mother and daughter were similar was in personality, tenacious and miserly when it came to speaking. Angela had raised a daughter wilder and tougher than herself, and that was saying a lot considering Angela’s own upbringing.
They were family to Vivian in more than just genetics and a familial name.
Angela called off her pack and the dogs abandoned their greetings to Vivian, running to their alpha.
Next to her, the back passenger door opened, and a groggy, boneless Loren slid out.
He ran his hand through mussed hair. “Where are we?” he asked around a jaw-cracking yawn.
“My cousin’s ranch.”
Cassius strode around the SUV and headed straight for the porch. He didn’t look one bit like he’d survived a gunfight initiated by men hellbent on murder, then spent the entirety of the night driving all the way to Euskadi.
Damn him.
“Angela,” he said as he mounted the steps.
“Sergeant Larrabee. Didn’t think I’d have the pleasure of your company again,” she said, handing over a steaming mug.
Coffee. Vivian made a beeline for her cousin.
“Neither did I,” Cassius said.
Vivian joined them with a lumbering Loren following on her heels.
“Cousin.” Angela handed Vivian a mug, then a third to Loren.
The mountains could always be counted on to stay cooler during the summer. The slight nip to the air made the heat of the mug feel blissful.
“Where’s Ashley and Bethany?” Vivian asked and took a sip.
“Still sleeping, if the dogs haven’t woken them. Ashley will be wanting to come over, especially if Bethany takes off to do chores. Neither of them are still keen on old men.” Angela’s pointed look at Loren threw the man.
Behind her tipped mug, Vivian smiled at the bewildered attorney.
“Whatever for?” he asked.
“You would remind Ashley of her polygamist cult-lovin’ sperm donor and the man she was forced to marry,” Vivian replied.
Loren’s eyes fluttered, and he jutted out his jaw. “Say what?”
“I’ll take him into town and put him up at Cherry’s,” Cassius said.
“That would be best.” Angela reached out and grasped Vivian’s shoulder. “Come inside and grab a bite to eat first.”
Vivian surrendered to the strength of this woman who was known for her fantastic outfitting business and superb hunting skills. Only Dot surpassed Angela in hunting and tracking.
They entered the house right into the kitchen. If Vivian hadn’t been made aware of the incidents from months past when Dot and T.J. had fended off an attack by merciless killers on this very ranch, she wouldn’t be able to tell that the house had sustained considerable damage. Not a single bullet hole or bloodstain to be seen.
“Have you heard from nire alaba?” Angela asked.
“Not since they left Las Vegas,” Cassius said. “They should be in Idaho by now.”
“Berri onak dira.”
Loren leaned toward Vivian. “What did she say? And how did he understand it?”
Vivian, too, was puzzling out how Cassius understood Basque, and wasn’t quick enough to answer.
Angela overheard him and paused by the old-fashioned woodburning stove to look over her shoulder. The perturbed expression on her face was pure Dot. The daughter learned from mother too well.
“She said, ‘this is good news,’” Vivian said.
“And the other thing?” Loren pressed.
“My daughter.” Vivian patted his arm. “It’s Basque.”
Loren blinked at Vivian. “You’re Basque? You don’t look it.”
Vivian gave Loren another pat as if he’d grown senile in the last one hundred miles. “I’m not Basque. Angela and I are cousins through her mother’s side. Great-Aunt Dorothy was very much British with a touch of Scottish.”
Loren did a great impression of a fish out of water. “Wait? How’s that possible?”
“Anything is possible in this country,” Cassius chimed in as he sat on a stool placed around an island counter.
“My ama, mother, met my aita, father, during World War II when he was stationed in England before D-Day,” Angela explained as she began dishing out food onto three plates. “He vowed to wed her after the war’s end. She thought he’d be dead before he got out of the boat and landed on the beach. They were both wrong.”
Vivian smiled. She’d heard this story so many times growing up, yet it never got old.
Loren, completely invested in the tale, sat on another stool at the counter. “Why’s that?”
Angela finished dishing out the hearty breakfast of scrambled eggs, sausages, and thick slabs of sourdough bread slathered in sweet goat’s cheese. “Aita fought all the way to the Battle of the Bulge, where he was severely wounded then sent home to Idaho, the war over for him and no way to get back to England.”
She carried the plates over to the counter and set them down. Vivian took the last stool and settled in.
“Ama completed her service with the Women’s Auxiliary Air Force. She returned home to her family. Her elder brother, Vivian’s aitona, grandfather, immigrated to America to get away from the reminders of the war. Ama came with him. They traveled all the way to Idaho and a chance meeting with a fully recovered sheep rancher of Basque descent whom she’d never forgotten about.”
“Two years later, both Montgomery siblings were married,” Vivian added between bites of her bread. “That’s all she wrote.”
“Not quite,” Angela said and leaned against the kitchen sink.
“Dot not only shares her grandmother’s name but an obvious love of flying?” Cassius asked.
“And many other things she shared with her aitona.” Angela looked down at her cradled mug of coffee, then looked up, a bit of sadness touching her eyes. “Eat. Ashley will be here soon, with Bethany following. Once the child learns Dot will be here, she will bounce off the walls.”
Vivian couldn’t deny that Dot, too, had bonded strongly with the girl. It was strange seeing her cousin, whom she’d grown up with at a distance, be motherly. Dot was not the mothering kind.
“I feel like I’m imposing,” Loren said. “Frankly, I don’t know why I’m even here in hiding in the first place.”
“You made yourself involved the moment you decided to not leave the firm last night and watch over Vivian. If anyone was left alive in that attack, they’ll be looking for you too,” Cassius said.
“Loren, it’s safer for you here from those men,” Vivian said. “Whoever they are.”
Loren looked a little blue around the mouth. Vivian gave him a reassuring rub on the back.
“Do not worry,” Angela said. “A few have tried to bring this family down. None have succeeded.” She nodded toward his untouched plate. “Eat.”
*
Once the men had polished off the majority of their food, Cassius took Loren into town to the quaint bed and breakfast owned by one of Dot’s friends. Angela took Vivian back to Dot’s old room for a change of clothing and to wash up.
The Coopers had yet to visit.
“Cousin, how is Matlock?” Vivian asked as she stripped out of her blood-flecked and dirty clothing.
A long-time childhood friend of Dot’s, Matlock Hargrave was Pyrenees County’s acting sheriff and still recovering from serious injuries inflicted on him months ago that would have ended his life had it not been for Dot’s intervention. The reasons and the culprits had yet to be discovered. Dot had inadvertently killed the only link to the whole ordeal.
One thing Dot had been certain of—Matlock’s attack was connected to his father’s unexplainable death. And it wasn’t over.
“He does better each day, and then he has a setback. The same is true of Sloane.”
