Chapter Fifteen
The cocking of a gun made Mac freeze for a split second before stepping in front of Tess.
The man had a face full of wrinkles surrounding a red, bulbous nose, a grizzled jaw and a pair of small, beady eyes. The little hair that was left on his head was stringy and gray as the overcast sky.
“You people can’t read? Sign says, No Trespassin’.”
Mac slowly raised his hands and eyed the weapon—a Smith and Wesson revolver probably as old as the man holding it. Mac knew better than to declare his FBI status while someone held a gun on him in this part of the world. The old man might decide shooting him for trespassing was his chance at a free pass for getting rid of a Fed. Antigovernment sentiment ran deep in certain quarters of the States.
“Easy there. We didn’t mean no harm.” Mac let his accent thicken.
Tess planted her hands on her hips. “It would be hard to trespass on my own property now, wouldn’t it? You best put that gun away before you hurt someone.”
Her brows rose imperiously and Mac had to work to keep his lower jaw from dropping.
“I guess that’s something you forgot to mention, sweetheart,” he told her under his breath. That explained why she’d ignored his warnings earlier. Mac had never imagined Tess would have been able to hold on to the property. Her adoptive mother must have arranged it on her behalf. The question was, why?
The old man squinted and let the barrel of the pistol drop. “Well, I’ll be darned. Francis and David’s little girl?”
A chill worked its way down Mac’s spine. He hadn’t heard that tone used in reaction to the Hines family in nearly twenty years.
He shot Tess a look and wished he could take her aside and tell her how to play this guy. He wanted to know more but the man wasn’t likely to talk to a Fed. But she didn’t need him to tell her anything. She’d grown up in an environment that revered her father, and punished those who didn’t follow the herd.
“Theresa Jane.” She nodded and frowned as she held out her hand. “I’m sorry I don’t remember you…”
“You wouldn’t. You were just a little girl the last time I saw you. Jessop. Henry Jessop.”
“Ah…now I remember you. You’re the farmer who leases the land?”
He nodded. “Keep hoping you’ll sell it to me…” He tucked the gun into a holster attached to his waist.
Mac knew the man’s name. His ranch neighbored this one to the northwest. Jessop hadn’t appeared to be directly involved with the Pioneers’ plot to bring down the government, but David Hines had spent quite a lot of time there. Law enforcement had run Jessop through the system, but nothing suspicious had popped. The old guy had been considered a bit of a hard-ass to work for by the other cowboys who’d frequented the local bar. Mac doubted Jessop would remember a no-account cowpoke like Kenny Travers.
“I’m waiting to talk to my brother before we decide whether or not to sell,” Tess told Jessop.
Mac noticed she was careful not to mention which brother.
She was gonna have to tell Bobby about his real parents soon, which she was obviously reluctant to do. Those tangled webs and all that. But what if someone else had already told him? What if her kid brother was busy avenging parents he didn’t even remember? Would Tess flip on him or become complicit in his guilt? Mac didn’t know. Hoped he didn’t have to find out.
There’d been no real developments in the last few hours, but at least no one else had died. Labs were running evidence as fast as they could, and everyone was doing their damnedest to narrow down the killer, including him, even if this wasn’t the most traditional way to run a task force.
The old man scratched his grizzled pate. “Eddie? Eddie doesn’t want to sell.”
“Not Eddie.” Tess smiled coldly and the old man appeared startled for a moment. In that instant, she resembled her mother. “My baby brother, Bobby.”
Eddie had forfeited his right to the property when he’d shot that cop.
The old man squinted and nodded. “Of course. Bobby.”
“I never gave permission for you to rent this place out.” Her tone was mild but Mac eased his hand toward his holster to unclip it just in case the old man got offended.
Jessop had the grace to look ashamed. “I couldn’t stand by and watch the place fall apart. Thought it might be a good spot for Eddie to live once he got out of prison—assuming they ever let him out. There are serial killers who get less time than that,” he said bitterly. “I don’t make no money off the rental,” he assured her. “Just use the income to pay for upkeep and put the rest in a savings account for him so he can get by.”
So Jessop was close enough to want to look out for Eddie Hines. What else might he be involved in? Mac wanted to find out.
“I appreciate you thinking of Eddie, Mr. Jessop. I’m a little ashamed of the fact it’s taken me so long to return to Idaho, but the memories of that time were difficult to face.”
Mac eyed her still swollen nose. If someone didn’t know better they might mistake the redness for cold. Her other bruises were hidden by a velvet blue and black scarf she’d wrapped around her neck. “I should have reached out to him years ago but I wasn’t able to do that safely. That’s why I’m here now. To see Eddie.”
She wasn’t lying, and she was being vague enough to suit all their needs.
He appreciated from his time living in this community that important things didn’t come up in the first conversation—bigotry, conspiracy, treason, these things usually took time.
Jessop turned his attention to Mac and his eyes hardened. “And who might you be?”
Mac made a split-second decision and held out his hand. He took a step forward shaking the other man’s heartily. “Mac Stevens. Theresa Jane did me the very great honor of agreeing to become my wife and you’re the first to know. We don’t even have a ring yet. Nice to meet you, Mr. Jessop.”
The man didn’t look impressed by his impromptu proposal.
“So, what are you people doing out this way?”
“Driving to Boise from Salt Lake City,” Mac improvised. “Theresa Jane told me she had something to show me. I guess this was it.”
Mac spotted a dark wad of chewing tobacco in the man’s mouth. He’d chewed it for a time too, to fit in with the other cowboys. The memory of bitter tobacco sat on his tongue like oil and he fought the urge to spit.
“I wanted to see the place again,” Tess said quietly. “It seemed like the right time to come home.”
“Can’t believe it’s been nearly twenty years already.” Jessop shook his head.
Mac tensed.
“Time doesn’t dull the memories,” said Tess.
Mac wondered how many nightmares she’d had about the shootout over the years. He eyed the closet and saw a stray bullet hole about three feet off the ground. If Theresa Jane had been sitting up at the time of that shot, that bullet could have passed straight through her. It hit him all over again how lucky she’d been. It was pure chance she’d survived that night. He’d do well to remember that the next time she thanked him for saving her.
“You were close to my parents?” she asked Jessop intently.
The man backed out of the cramped bedroom. He was almost as tall as Mac, but had rounded shoulders and a paunch. Mac didn’t underestimate him though. Ranch work built muscles gyms had never heard of. He followed Jessop into the kitchen, Tess trailing him.
“They were fine people. Wonderful neighbors.”
As long as you were white and straight and bigoted, Mac thought, bile rising in his throat.
Tess smiled sympathetically, rubbing her tattoo like it had started to itch. She did that when she was nervous. “I guess I should have called ahead and told you we were coming. I just didn’t expect to find the cabin still standing, let alone still being used. It shocked me.”
“Most people avoid the place.” Jessop leaned against the sink.
Mac remembered Tess standing in that same spot doing dishes, the day of the raid.
“Some say it’s haunted.”
Considering the hairs that had raised on Mac’s nape when they’d walked through the door he could believe it. And if anyone would turn into a ghoul, it’d be Francis Hines.
Tess checked her watch and frowned. “As much as I’d like to talk, we need to be going.”
“Why don’t you come to the ranch house for supper before you go on your way?” Jessop offered abruptly.
Tess started to shake her head, but Mac cut in eagerly, “I could eat.”
Her eyes flicked over him. “I didn’t think we had time.”
He checked his own watch and on cue his stomach grumbled. Chances were they’d miss the eight o’clock flight if they stayed, but there was another flight after that. It might be worth the detour, to see what this guy had to say.
Jessop waved aside Tess’s concern. “There’s stew on the hob and bread in the oven. It would be faster than stopping at a restaurant and a man has to eat.” His jovial concern for Mac’s welfare put Mac on edge. He didn’t trust the guy.
“You sure that’s no trouble?” Tess asked again.
The reluctance was obvious in her tone.
Jessop’s beady eyes got narrower. “I have a few things you may want to have. Belongings of your parents…”
And Mac was absolutely all-in.
Could this guy know something relevant to his current investigation? Could he be involved? Tess met his gaze. She looked uncertain and he knew it was wrong but he did it anyway.
“My fiancée and I would be honored to join you for dinner, Mr. Jessop.”
Tess shot him a dirty look, but the old timer didn’t pay her any mind. Her man had spoken and that’s all that mattered around here. As they followed Jessop outside, Mac rested his hand low on her back. She stiffened but didn’t pull away.
“Should we follow you?” Mac suggested. He wasn’t supposed to know where Jessop lived.
“We can cut across the ranch. I’ll unlock the gate.” Jessop nodded and walked to an old beat up truck that had probably been going since before Tess had been born. The truck had a snow plow attached to the front. Mac ignored the frigid moisture seeping into his shoes and followed the now silent woman down the driveway.
“Thank you for going along with me back there,” he said to her stiff back.
A cloud of vapor erupted as she exhaled. “I didn’t have much choice.” She wrapped her arms tight across her chest and whispered. “You think this guy might be involved in the murders?”
Mac took her elbow as they negotiated a drift. “Makes sense that any plan to avenge your parents’ deaths or carry out their agenda might originate from a former Pioneer or someone close to them. Jessop came up on the radar, but was never at any meetings and had no link to the stolen weapons we were tracking, that we knew about anyhow. If he’s not involved, he could still have vital information about someone who is.”
He opened the passenger door and helped Tess into her seat. He tried to ignore how soft she felt beneath his hands. How easy and natural it felt to be in her company.
She sat and her eyes searched his face nervously. “If he figures out you’re a Fed we’re in deep trouble.”
He tipped his head to the side. “Let’s make sure he doesn’t figure it out.”
“Can they trace the plates on this vehicle to Steve McKenzie or the FBI?” she asked.
He nodded. “Sure, if they have contacts in the rental place or if they know a cop who’ll ask for them.”
Her eyes went huge. “You think they have cops on their side?”
Mac huffed out a laugh. “Wasn’t that one of your daddy’s dreams? Getting a ghost skin working on the inside?”
Tess closed her eyes and shuddered. He caught her by the shoulders and leaned down to kiss the top of her head, but she looked up suddenly and they both froze. If he didn’t kiss her now it would look weird. She seemed to realize the same thing at the exact same moment he did. So he brushed his lips quickly over hers, caught off-guard by the electricity that zapped at his blood with a wave of molten heat.
She bit her lower lip and he felt a punch of lust in his groin.
He jolted when a truck started honking behind them. What the hell just happened?
Jessop had opened the gate and was impatiently waiting for them to follow. Mac closed Tess’s door, walking around to climb into the driver’s seat and ignoring the fact he hadn’t reacted to a woman like that in years. Maybe ever.
He started the engine and drove down a driveway he thought he’d left behind twenty years ago. Chills ran down his spine as ghosts bristled, and the memory of Tess’s kiss buzzed on his lips, but he concentrated on the task ahead. Getting distracted at this point could get them both killed.
* * *
Tess stared as they drove past old familiar fields. She spotted the hill where they’d tobogganed during some of the rare fun moments of her childhood. And a small copse of trees where they’d built a secret fort when she was barely able to toddle. Even Eddie had been fun back then.
She didn’t want to think about Eddie.
Twenty years in prison had hardened what little heart he’d had. But this old man, Jessop, wanted to look out for him like he was some poor lost soul. Her sore throat ached. Poor Eddie. Poor violent, twisted, sadistic Eddie.
She didn’t realize how tense she was until Mac reached over and untangled her fingers from the fists she’d made in her lap.
“It’ll be fine.”
“You said that earlier when you talked me into wearing the wire.” She made a very unladylike huff. “Good thing I learned self-defense else I’d be dead.” She rubbed her throat and adjusted her scarf so the bruises remained hidden.
“I’m sorry he grabbed you. I should have positioned a guard closer.” A muscle rippled in his jaw. “Look, we don’t have to stay at Jessop’s long. We eat, take whatever memorabilia he saved from the compound for you—”
“I hope to God it isn’t the Hitler bust.”
“I hated that fucking thing. Still gives me nightmares,” Mac agreed, and they shared a look of mutual horror. “Hopefully I can get a quick read on this guy, maybe take a quick look around his house without his knowledge and we can leave in time to catch the last flight out.”
“Is that why you came to my house yesterday,”—had it only been yesterday?—“to get a ‘quick read’ on me?” She couldn’t help the bitterness that infiltrated her tone. She didn’t blame him, but it sucked to never be totally trusted. Although she was one to talk. She hadn’t told her ex, Jason, or her best friend, Julie, about her real identity. Their subsequent betrayal proved it had been the right decision.
Mac pressed his lips together. “I came alone to reaffirm what I thought I already knew about you.” He flashed her a narrow-eyed stare. “Unfortunately, because you failed to mention your daddy’s birthday, there will be more agents with more questions.”
She gave a harsh laugh. “So, it’s my fault the FBI didn’t figure that out?”
His glare dissolved and he glanced away. “No, I should have seen it, but I was busy investigating four murders and that piece of the puzzle slipped past me.”
Guilt made her feel small for blaming him. He was right. People were dying. Her sensitive nature didn’t matter anymore. “I honestly didn’t remember the significance of the date until after you’d left. I am sorry I didn’t call you.”
She touched her lips, which still hummed from the insubstantial kiss Mac had laid on her when she’d climbed in the SUV. It had shot a bolt of longing deep into her core.
She was truly pathetic. The guy was playing a role.
She still hadn’t gotten hold of Cole. Had he genuinely not forgiven her stupid comment about older women and younger men? Her double standards were screaming at her every second with being stuck in this car with a man she’d been crushing on since she was ten years old. The nine-year age difference had been insurmountable back then. Now, at thirty, the age difference seemed irrelevant.
Dangerous thoughts, but right now she was stuck with him. Perhaps that was for the best. The more willing she was to help the FBI, surely the better it was for her reputation? It was worth a shot. “What do you want me to do with Jessop?”
“Try and get him talking about your parents but don’t be too obvious. You know how paranoid these people are.”
“Ain’t paranoia if they’re really out to getcha.” She deepened her daddy’s twang and quirked her brows.
Mac’s eyes widened. “That’s a little scary.”
She laughed. “Daddy was a scary guy. What else?”
“We both do our best to look around while appearing to not give a damn. I’m a…” He peered down at his suit and tie. “What the fuck do I do for a living if I wear a suit on my downtime?”
“Oilman. Pretty much the only men in suits these guys will talk to. Oil and gas folks, or a preacher.”
“No way would I pass for a preacher.” His mouth tightened. “I guess I can work for an oil company.”
“Okay.” She was amused at his lack of enthusiasm but hid it. They needed to be serious. “Let’s keep the details to the bare minimum. Being secretive can go both ways.”
Those eyes of his crinkled at the corners. “You’re good at this.”
“Lying?” she scoffed.
He groaned loudly. “I hope not, else I’m going to look like a damn fool when I get back to headquarters.”
She glanced at him sharply. Did that mean he’d vouched for her? Or that someone else thought she was a suspect?
“You’re good at thinking on your feet. Adapting.”
“I’ve had to be. I’ve hidden my real identity my whole life, Mac. That tends to make a person cautious with information.”
Mac held her gaze for a long moment then fiddled with his phone. “Shit. No signal.” He shoved the cell back in his pocket. “Looks like it’s just you and me.”
She raised one brow. “You okay with that?”
He sent her a lazy grin. “I’ve had worse partners.”
But she hadn’t lied earlier. She didn’t trust easily. In fact, she didn’t trust at all. Maybe she really was as paranoid as her folks had been, but she didn’t want to be. She wanted to be part of a team. She wanted to be one of the good guys.
Jessop’s farmhouse appeared in the distance.
She squinted at it against its pretty backdrop of pearly white. “I don’t remember ever visiting this place before.”
“I did once.” He turned to look at her. “I rode out here leading a young colt your daddy had gotten hold of from somewhere.” Horses dotted across the fields and reminded him of another lifetime. “This guy, Jessop, has a weakness for horseflesh.”
She found herself watching Mac’s hands curl around the steering wheel. Big hands. Strong hands. Broad with long fingers that looked more suited to soothing beasts than taming bad guys. It was his eyes that attracted her most, she realized with a start. Not just the tantalizing color which shifted from green to blue like the sunlight on a shallow sea. It was the intelligence she saw there, combined with compassion. Intelligence was an aphrodisiac for any smart woman, but compassion was vastly underrated. It was worth more than money, power, even truth. It gave morality to strength and comfort to suffering. She could fall for him for that reason alone.
She suppressed her thoughts. She could deal with the idea of a childish crush. She couldn’t deal with the idea of more.
She eyed the house. It was a pale river rock affair with a white-painted porch. There were stables and a bunk house across the paddock. A couple of thoroughbreds stood near the fence, lit up in the headlights. Both animals wore heavy-duty coats to help protect them from the weather.
Jessop parked near the front steps and motion-sensitive lights flooded the area.
Mac shaded his eyes. “It’s like a goddamned prison break.”
She snorted.
He drove the car in a circle so they were facing out. All the better for making a fast getaway.
Her heart thumped and her mouth went dry. “I’m not happy about being here, McKenzie,” she murmured under her breath.
“We’ll be fine. Let him do most of the talking.”
Jessop headed up the front steps and waited for them. The trickle of fear that crawled all over her skin as she got out of the car did nothing to reassure her.