Chapter Sixteen
Dawn filtered in through the windows, a soft purple glow in the darkness. Linc sat in a chair across the bedroom watching Carly sleep.
He’d scared her a little last night. Hell, he’d scared himself. He hadn’t realized he could be so possessive of a woman, that he could demand so much from her. And yet she’d taken everything he’d tossed at her and hadn’t for a moment backed down.
They were good together. Better than good. He wanted to know if the things he was feeling were real. If whatever was happening was more than just an affair.
In the years since his failed marriage, he’d told himself he wasn’t interested in getting involved with a woman on more than a superficial level. He could do just fine, the way he always had.
Over the years, he’d dated any number of women and enjoyed them. But this was different, at least for him.
Linc was the kind of man who went after what he wanted. Trouble was, in this case, he didn’t exactly know what that was. If things went wrong, Carly could get hurt. He didn’t want that. And there was always a chance it could end up the other way around.
He studied the woman asleep in his bed, smiled at the tangle of heavy blond hair spread over his pillow. She was important to him. He’d do his best not to hurt her. But he wasn’t letting her back away from him, not when she clearly had feelings for him, too.
Not until they had time to figure things out.
Beyond that, she needed his protection.
Yesterday in Dallas, he’d had the Drake cargo manifest from the crime scene messengered over to the City DNA Lab. He’d paid extra to have them put a rush on it, asked Townsend to keep an eye out for it, but it would still take a few days.
If the spot turned out to be blood, and he had a hunch it was, he needed to know if it was Miguel’s. If it belonged to someone else, they might have a suspect. If the lab could come up with a DNA sample, Townsend could get it run through the Combined DNA Index System (CODIS), look for a match.
Tightening the sash on his terry-cloth robe, he rose from the chair and padded barefoot down the hall for a quick workout in the weight room adjoining his home office. Changing into a T-shirt and a pair of navy blue gym shorts, he pushed the weights around for a while, hit the heavy bag, then jogged for half an hour on the treadmill.
Since Carly still wasn’t up and he didn’t want to wake her, he went into the bathroom at the end of the hall and took a quick shower. Wearing the robe again till he could get something out of his closet, he sat down behind the desk and forced himself to focus on work, starting with the notes he’d made on the tire rebuilding plant.
When he looked up, Carly stood in the doorway, looking rumpled and pretty, reminding him of last night and making him start to get hard.
She walked toward him in one of his T-shirts, which hung on her like a sack but did nothing to cool his ardor. She sat down in a chair on the other side of the desk.
“You okay?” he asked. “I was pretty rough on you last night.”
A slow smile spread over her face. “Sometimes rough is good.”
His mouth edged up. No question last night had been great.
She toyed with a lock of gold hair. “So . . . umm . . . how many times have you used sex to get what you want?”
Amusement slid through him. “Counting last night? One.”
She smiled, relaxed back in the chair.
“It’s early,” he said. “Why aren’t you still asleep?”
“I’ve been doing some thinking.”
“Yeah, what about?”
“About you . . . about El Jefe. About the sheriff.”
“Sounds intriguing.”
“We could use the sheriff ’s help to stop whatever’s going on, but you don’t trust him. I know it has something to do with the night you were arrested. You know a lot about me. Except for what I’ve read, I don’t know much about you.”
He tilted back in the black leather executive chair. “What do you want to know?”
“I’d like to know what happened the night of the robbery.”
“Attempted robbery,” he corrected. He didn’t talk about it. Not ever. It had happened to a different man, happened in the past, and he wanted it to stay there.
But he had pushed her last night. He hoped they had turned some kind of corner. “There were three of us. Me and two friends. One of them came up with the idea. I didn’t want to do it. I was afraid we’d end up in jail—which we did.”
“What happened?”
“We were always trying to find ways to prove ourselves, prove how tough we were. Our home lives sucked. All we had was each other. The guys wanted to rob the convenience store. I didn’t want to let them down, so I went along with it. Two of us went inside; the third guy, the driver, waited in the car. We were wearing ski masks and carrying pistols. We walked in, went up to the register, and demanded money. That’s when the owner pulled a shotgun out from under the counter. We had three choices. Kill him. Try to get his gun and maybe he’d kill one of us. Or surrender. We were kids. We didn’t want to kill poor old Mr. Lafferty and we didn’t want to die, so we laid down our weapons. Lafferty called the sheriff and he hauled us off to jail.”
“That doesn’t sound like enough to hold a grudge for all these years. Who were the other two boys?”
He just shook his head.
Carly eyed him with speculation. “Those trips to Dallas where I was trying to keep busy while you were working? I decided to do a little more research, read more about you on the Net. I think I can guess who was with you that night.”
He went still, his heart slowing to a dull thud. “You think so?”
“Maybe. In high school, Beau Reese was one of your best friends. I saw that in an article I read. Beau’s hobby is driving race cars, a love he developed in his teens. I think Beau was driving the car that night.”
He didn’t say a word, which was an answer in itself.
“I wondered what the connection was between you and Sheriff Howler; while I was online, I read up on him, too. He’s been county sheriff for a long time so there’s a lot written about him and his family. Turns out he has a son almost the same age as you. I Googled his son. Your birthday’s in May. Kyle’s isn’t until July. That makes Howler’s kid a few months younger, same as Beau.”
He just sat there. Never in a million years would he have believed she would figure it out. “Don’t stop now. It’s just getting interesting.”
“It turns out Howler’s son went to Pleasant Hill High, graduated the same year you would have if you hadn’t been in prison. You and Beau, you both turned your lives around and became extremely successful, but Kyle became a drug addict. He’s been in and out of rehab for years. I think Kyle went into the convenience store with you the night of the robbery. I think the sheriff blames you for the way his son turned out.”
He leaned back, tried to pretend nonchalance. The information was out there for anyone to read. No one else had cared enough to put it all together. “Why ask me if you’ve already figured it out?”
“I know you’ve always kept silent about it. But Miguel is dead. I might be next. I guess I was hoping you’d trust me enough to explain what’s going on.”
He rose from his chair and walked around the desk. She seemed surprised when he pulled her up and into his arms.
“I’m glad you know,” he said. “I probably should be mad as hell that you’ve been digging around in my past, but all I feel is relief.”
She smiled at him softly. “Your secret is safe with me.”
He believed her. It occurred to him that he trusted her. He wasn’t exactly sure when that had happened, but it was a feeling he’d never had with a woman he was involved with before. They always wanted something from him. All of them but Carly.
“Howler blames me, but the truth is, it was Kyle’s idea. I think he wanted to show up his old man. Kyle never did anything good enough to please his dad. Beau and I felt sorry for him. Robbing the store was supposed to be some kind of payback, kind of a secret jab at the sheriff, a guy none of us liked.”
“You and Beau came out okay. If Kyle had been stronger, he could have learned from his mistakes, too.”
“I suppose that’s true.” Linc bent his head and softly kissed her. “I’m glad we talked, cleared the air. Secrets can be dangerous, especially with what’s been going on. Now go get dressed before I haul you back to bed. I’ve got a lot of things to do.”
Carly smiled. “So do I.” She hurried for the door and he watched her bottom moving sweetly beneath the soft cotton fabric of his T-shirt.
“Thanks for being honest,” Carly said over her shoulder as she ducked out and headed down the hall.
Linc’s body stirred as he watched her go. He was in trouble here. Big damn trouble. He just hoped it was a two-way street.
* * *
Carly sat at the desk in her office that Friday morning, while Frank Marino was on duty outside in the main room. Every so often, he went outside and prowled the yard, checking for any sign of trouble.
Carly didn’t think El Jefe or his men would show up at Drake Trucking, not when half a dozen burly truckers milled around, to say nothing of the mechanics and people who worked inside. Still, Linc had insisted Marino accompany her, which she didn’t really mind as long as the man stayed out of her hair.
Linc had reluctantly gone to Dallas, though he had promised to be back in Iron Springs before she closed the office for the night.
“I’ll pick you up,” he’d said when he’d phoned her at work. “If it looks like I’m going to be late, I’ll call.”
“Okay. I was . . . umm . . . thinking . . .”
“About what? More ways to cause trouble?”
She smiled. “I was hoping we could stop at the roadhouse after work. Rowena’s bartending and it’d be nice to see some friends.”
“I don’t see why not. A beer sounds good. I’ll see you late afternoon.”
Surprised her request hadn’t turned into some kind of confrontation, she’d gone back to work, kept at it till noon. Donna went out for sandwiches and brought them back for lunch and they ate in the break room. Afterward she started making cold calls.
She’d just hung up, proud of herself for the meeting she’d set up with Ajax Furniture to discuss the company’s shipping needs, when the second line rang. Joe’s private number.
Carly picked up the phone. “Drake Trucking.”
“Señorita Drake. It is good to hear your voice.”
Her stomach clenched. El Jefe’s words made her blood run cold. “What do you want?”
“It is time to schedule a pickup. Very soon you will receive a text giving you the location and the time your truck is to arrive.”
She moistened her lips, steeled herself. “I’ve changed my mind. I’ve decided I’m not interested in your deal. You need to find someone else.”
A grating chuckle rasped over the line, zipping along her nerves. “You will do what you are told. You will make the pickup and you will tell no one—not even the rich gringo you are whoring for.”
Her fingers tightened around the receiver. “What I do is none of your business.”
“Sleep with Cain—I do not care—as long as you do what you are told. Fight me and you and Cain will both be dead. You understand?”
Oh, God. “Yes.”
“As I said, word will arrive very soon.” The line went dead.
Carly’s hand shook as she hung up the receiver and leaned back in her chair. She’d known this was coming and yet some part of her had refused to believe it.
A familiar knock sounded and she glanced up. When the door opened and Linc walked in, a wave of relief hit her so hard, she felt dizzy.
He took one look at her face and the scowl he was wearing went even darker. “What is it? What’s happened?”
Her voice shook. “El Jefe just called. He’s got a load he wants picked up.”
“Christ.”
“He didn’t say what it was, where he wants it delivered or when. He says I’ll get a text with the information.”
Linc ran a hand through his thick dark brown hair. “What else?”
“He knows we’re together. He says he’ll kill both of us if I don’t do what he says.” Her eyes burned. “I never should have gotten you involved.”
He caught her shoulders, drew her out of her chair. “You didn’t have any choice. I was involved from the moment Joe asked me to look out for you.”
Carly closed her eyes. She told herself everything would be okay; Linc was going to help. She took a steadying breath, worked to slow her pounding heart. “What are we going to do?”
“We’re going to consider our options, figure the best way to handle this. One of the reasons I went to Dallas was to talk to Quinn Taggart.”
Alarm slammed through her. “Taggart? You said Taggart was FBI!”
“That’s right.”
“You said you wouldn’t do anything we didn’t both agree on. That’s what you said!”
“Take it easy. I just talked to him, nothing more. I mentioned El Jefe, outlined, theoretically, what might become a problem. I didn’t give him any names, nothing specific.”
“You shouldn’t have done it—not until we talked.”
“We have to do something. You know it as well as I do.”
She took another deep breath, steadied herself. “What did Taggart say?”
“He knows about El Jefe. He says the guy started out fairly small potatoes, running drugs, extortion, that kind of thing. In the last year or so, he’s grown more and more powerful. He’s amassed a sizable fortune, and according to word on the street, he’s just getting started. The FBI wants him—bad.”
Hope swelled inside her. “Maybe they’ll arrest him before I get the call.”
Linc shook his head. “The feds haven’t got jack on this guy. They don’t even know what he looks like. They’re desperate for information.”
“I don’t know anything! I know the size of his shoes—that’s it!”
Linc’s mouth edged up. “I know.”
She tried to hold on to her irritation, but it slowly slipped away. In jeans and a chest-hugging T-shirt, he was so hot, for a moment she forgot El Jefe’s phone call and just enjoyed the view. Then her brain began to function and worry swept back in.
“At least we’ve made contact,” Linc was saying. “We know the feds are interested. If El Jefe calls you with a pickup location—”
“You aren’t suggesting I give them that information? If I do and they don’t catch him, we could both end up dead.”
“I told you we’d consider our options. At least we know the FBI will be more than willing to step in when the time comes.”
He was right. The only way out of this was to catch the man who threatened them. They needed help to do that. But it didn’t make her feel any better.
She pulled out her cell phone. No texts from El Jefe. She wondered how long it would be before he sent word of his demands? How long before the drug lord sent her down the road to ruin?
Or to hell.