Chapter Nineteen
Linc pulled the truck out onto the road and started back to the ranch house. As the GMC picked up speed, he hit the command button on his steering wheel.
“Dial Ross Townsend,” he said into the mic. The call went through and the phone began to ring.
“Townsend.” Ross’s voice came over the speaker.
“The guy who trashed Carly’s house? Name is Raymond Jackson Archer. He’s out of Austin, arrested six days ago on a domestic violence charge, and skipped bail. I want everything you can find on him.”
“I’m on it,” Townsend said.
“You still at the house?”
“I was planning to drive back to Dallas this afternoon, but I can work from here if you think I need to stay.”
“Plan on it. I want that info ASAP. I’ll talk to you when I get there.” He disconnected the line.
On the seat next to him, Carly rode in silence. She’d had a rough day and it was just early afternoon.
In the distance, the big iron gates of Blackland Ranch appeared, guards posted at the entrance. Linc groaned as he spotted the group in front of the wrought-iron fence. The protestors were back, milling and marching and singing, waving their signs in the air.
“I really don’t need this today,” he growled. He already had more than enough on his plate without this bunch of crazies. “There’s a dirt road into the back of the ranch, but it’s pretty rough and it’s miles out of the way. Might be worth the trouble.”
“We’re already here,” Carly said, stating the obvious.
Linc pulled up and the gates slowly swung open. A couple of protestors tried to push their way onto the property but two guys on ATVs rode up and blocked their way.
Linc drove through the gate to the sound of shouts and jeers and the gates closed behind them.
“I’m liking your helicopter better all the time,” Carly said.
Linc felt the pull of a smile. “It does have its advantages.”
Passing the main house, he drove on down the dirt road toward home. Once they were settled inside, he walked over to the wet bar built into a wall in the living room and opened the dark oak cabinet.
“You want a drink? I’m pouring myself three fingers of whiskey. You’re welcome to join me.”
“Sounds perfect,” she said. “I’ll take mine neat.”
He was only a little surprised. He poured them each a Stagg Kentucky Bourbon, an expensive brand he’d grown fond of, and carried Carly’s glass over to where she’d collapsed bonelessly on the sofa.
Linc handed her the heavy crystal tumbler and sat down beside her. “Rough day,” he said.
“Seems like they’ve all been pretty rough lately.”
He took a sip of his drink, savored the taste and the burn. “Yeah.”
Carly sipped her whiskey. “I don’t know anyone named Raymond Archer. I have no idea why he would destroy my home.”
“Sometimes we have enemies we don’t know we have. Maybe you crossed paths with this guy and don’t remember. Hell, maybe he was just some drunk on a plane you pissed off because you wouldn’t serve him another round.”
She tilted her head against the back of the sofa. “Maybe.”
“Townsend will find the link if there is one. In the meantime, I’m glad you’re staying here.”
She sat up and her eyes found his. “Why, because you want to protect me? Or because you need a woman in your bed and I happen to be handy?”
Irritation trickled through him. “Where’s that coming from? I thought we’d already settled this particular issue.” He set his heavy crystal glass down on the coffee table. “Wait a minute. It’s what Howler said, isn’t it? That the whole town was talking about us.”
She shrugged, pretending it didn’t bother her, but clearly it had. “I knew they would.” She took a sip of her drink. “I’m being stupid, I guess.”
He took the drink from her hand and set it down on the table next to his. Reaching over, he caught her chin, bent his head, and very softly kissed her.
“You’re the woman I want, Carly. The way we are in bed together, I’ve got to figure I’m the man you want. We’re doing what’s right for us and the hell with the rest of them.”
She looked at him and some of the clouds in her eyes seemed to fade. “You’re right. I’m being a coward. Granddad didn’t raise me to be a coward. To hell with the rest of them.” She stood up and reached down to him. “Take me to bed, Lincoln Cain. Remind me again why I’m staying with you.”
Linc laughed. Standing, he took hold of her hand and she led him down the hall. It didn’t take him long to remind her. It didn’t stop him from worrying about her.
* * *
At the ranch house Sunday morning, Carly worked on her laptop. It sat on a desk in the spare bedroom she was using as an office. Figuring Rowena had probably worked at Jubal’s last night, she waited till nine o’clock to call her. With Donna gone, she was desperate for someone to take the job as office manager, but she wanted someone reliable, someone she could trust. She prayed Rowena would accept the position.
“Row, it’s me. Did I wake you?”
“No, I had the early shift last night.”
“Good. Have you got a minute to talk?”
“Sure. If you’re going to dish on Cain, I’ve got all the time in the world.”
Carly laughed. “Sorry, no. All I’m willing to say about Linc is the man is smokin’ hot.”
Row chuckled. “You’ll get no argument from me. So what’s up?”
“You know that full-time job you’ve been looking for? Something interesting that pays well and provides benefits?”
“How could I forget? I’ve been pounding the pavement for nearly a year.”
“What would you think about a job at Drake Trucking? Office manager. Donna just quit.”
“What, are you kidding me?”
“Completely serious. I think you’d be a real asset. If you wouldn’t mind taking orders from me.”
“I’d take orders from the devil himself if the job was right.”
“Then you’re hired. But before you say yes, there are a couple of things you need to know. I’d rather not discuss them over the phone.”
“Now you’ve got my attention.”
Carly flicked a glance at the bedroom doorway, wondering if Linc would mind her going in for a while this morning. “I don’t suppose you’d have any time today? We could talk things over. If you’re still interested, we could spend a couple of hours getting you acquainted with the way we’ve been doing things, maybe throw some ideas around about changes you might want to make.”
“Sure, I could do that. Say half an hour?”
“That’d be great. I’ll see you there.” She hung up the phone.
“I gather Row accepted the job.” Linc stood in the open doorway. Six-foot-five inches of glorious male that could grace the cover of any muscle jock magazine.
She forced her eyes to his face. “I have to tell Row about El Jefe. It wouldn’t be fair to keep her in the dark about something that could be seriously dangerous.”
“You sure you can trust her?”
“We’ve known each other since I was ten years old. I’m absolutely sure.”
“All right. You know you’re risking your friendship if the job doesn’t work out.”
“It’s a risk I’m willing to take.” If it worked the way she hoped, Carly would have an ally in the company and also someone she believed would do a very competent job.
“I know it’s Sunday,” she said, “but Row’s agreed to meet me at the office for a couple of hours. It won’t be busy today and I need to get this settled. I hope you don’t mind. I can be back by noon or a little after.”
“It’s cooler today. I thought we might go for a ride on my Harley. If we went out the back road, no one would know we were gone. But I realize hiring someone is a problem you need to solve.”
“Rats. I’d really like to go. Maybe we could go riding this afternoon.”
Linc started nodding. “All right, I can make that work. We’ll go after you’re finished. Frank’s off today. I’ll drive you in, take some work with me. I’ve always got plenty to do.”
“Are you sure you need to go? It’s daylight. I should be safe enough.”
He cast her a look more eloquent than words.
“Okay, I get it.” She thought of El Jefe and figured Linc was right. She wondered about the text the drug lord was planning to send her. She wondered what she would do when it came. “I’ll finish getting ready and be right with you.”
They arrived at the yard a few minutes before the scheduled meeting, but Rowena’s older-model red Chevy Camaro was already parked in the yard and Rowena was sitting inside it. Sunlight gleamed on her dark red curls as she got out of the car and walked over to join them in the hip-swaying gait that hadn’t changed since high school.
“So you brought the big man with you,” Rowe said as she approached, flashing Linc a grin.
“He’s playing bodyguard,” Carly said. “Long story and one I’m about to tell you.”
Rowena’s russet eyebrows went up.
“Let’s go inside,” Linc said.
Carly unlocked the door and they went into the main office. The employee lounge was next door, with a separate entrance so the drivers could use it whenever they came in from a run.
A couple of trucks were parked in the yard. They’d be pulling out soon, off to pick up and deliver their loads.
As soon as the door closed, Rowena turned to Linc. “So I guess you heard the news—I’m about to become a Drake Trucking employee.”
He smiled. “Better than that—office manager. Congratulations.”
“Thanks. I’ll do my very best to fill Donna’s more than capable shoes.”
Carly shared a glance with Linc.
“Why’d she quit, anyway?” Row asked. “She worked for Joe for years.”
“Maybe now that he’s gone, she was ready for a change,” Carly said, sticking to the story they’d agreed on. After all the woman’s years of loyalty, Carly believed Joe would have wanted Donna to have the benefit of the doubt. Besides, Townsend had verified that a total of twenty thousand had gone in and out of Donna’s personal account, given to Miguel, she had to assume. The rest had apparently gone to El Jefe as Donna had said.
While Linc set up his computer and went to work at one of the desks in the main part of the office, Carly led Row into the inner office and they sat down at the small round table in the corner.
“Okay, so what’s going on?” Row asked.
“As I said, there are some things you need to know before you accept the job.” Taking a deep, steadying breath, Carly told her friend about the night she’d been abducted, about El Jefe’s threats, and that he might be the man behind Miguel Hernandez’s murder.
“I don’t want you going into this job blind,” she said. “That wouldn’t be fair. I don’t think you’d be in any danger working as office manager but there’s always a chance.”
Row leaned back in her chair. “Wow. I can’t believe this is happening to you. You’ve only been here a couple of months and you’re dealing with death threats and murder. It must seem like the weight of the world is crashing down on your head.” She straightened. “You can trust me not to say anything to anyone. You know that, right?”
“I know. Linc and I are trying to figure a way out. He’s hired a private investigator, and he’s got some very influential friends, but there’s always a chance something bad could happen.”
“I trust Linc and I trust you even more. I really want this job and I’d really like to help. So yes, I accept your offer.”
Carly felt a wave of relief. It was going to work out. She had someone capable and trustworthy to help her. All she had to do was find a way to deal with El Jefe. Yeah, right.
“When can you start?”
“How soon do you need me?”
“Tomorrow if you can swing it. If not, we’ll manage until you’re ready.”
“I’d have to give notice to my part-time employer and cut my hours at the roadhouse, but I can juggle things for awhile. I can start tomorrow if you need me.”
Carly grinned. “Terrific.”
* * *
While the women were talking, Linc sat in front of his laptop in the main part of the office, reviewing plans for the tire rebuilding plant, the first in a chain—he hoped. Dammit, everything was in order. All they needed was the county permit. It should have been a done deal.
Instead, he’d be sending in a team next week to discuss concessions Tex/Am would be willing to make to get the permit they needed to break ground. He hoped to hell it would work.
He glanced up at the sound of Carly’s office door swinging open. “Gotta run,” Row said, waving at Linc as she hurried through the main room toward the front door. “See you tomorrow, Carly.”
“See you then,” Carly said.
Linc smiled. Looked like Row had accepted the job. Carly needed someone she could trust, and from what Linc knew of Rowena, she was trustworthy, as well as smart and capable.
“Glad it worked out,” he said.
Carly smiled. “Me, too.” The door had just clicked shut when the knob turned and one of the drivers pushed it back open. He walked in holding onto a kid by the collar at the nape of his neck. Linc recognized Pete Sanchez from the day Carly had freed up the jackknifed big rig—a slender man in his late twenties, at least part Latino.
“What’s going on, Pete?” Carly asked.
“I found this kid hiding in the break room. Looks like he’s been there all night. He won’t talk, just keeps asking for Joe.”
The boy was around ten years old, too thin, blue-eyed, and nearly towheaded. Linc noticed a bruise on his cheek, turning from purple to an ugly greenish yellow. The boy jerked free of Pete’s hold and stood up a little straighter.
“I want to see Joe Drake. I’m not leaving till I talk to him.”
Carly looked at Sanchez. “You didn’t tell him?”
Pete shook his head. “Figured that was your business.”
Linc studied the boy, wondered at his connection to Joe, and a pang of sympathy tightened his chest. He remembered the way he’d felt when he’d gotten the phone call from Johnnie Banducci telling him Joe was dead.
“How do you know Joe?” Carly asked gently as Pete backed out of the office and closed the door.
The boy ignored the question. “I gotta see him. I need to talk to him. It’s important.”
“What’s your name?” Few people ignored a question Linc asked; the kid took one look at him and answered.
“Zach Archer. I wasn’t doing nothin’ wrong. I was just waiting for him. I’m . . . I’m his grandson.”
Linc’s gaze shot to Carly, whose shoulders stiffened at the news.
“Zach Archer. Your father wouldn’t be Ray Archer?” Linc saw Carly putting the pieces together same as he was. Archer, the guy who had vandalized her house.
“He’s my dad. I need to see Joe.” The boy reached into the pocket of his dirty jeans and pulled out an envelope, tightly folded and yellow with age. Carly took the envelope from his small unsteady hand, carefully unfolded it, and pulled out a wrinkled sheet of paper.
The boy looked up at her. “My mom said if I ever got in trouble, I should come to Iron Springs. I should ask for Joe Drake. The letter has directions how to get here.”
“Keep going,” Linc encouraged when the kid hesitated, but seemed to have something else to say.
“Joe was my mom’s dad. She died but she left me the letter. She said Joe would help me.”
Carly glanced down at the note. When she finished reading it, she turned to the boy. “Zach, I’m really sorry, but your grandpa died almost two months ago.”
The kid’s face went bone white, making the bruise on his cheek stand out. He stumbled backward, caught hold of the desk to steady himself. “Joe can’t be dead. He can’t be.”
Linc set his hands on the boy’s narrow shoulders. Beneath his plaid shirt, he was trembling. Linc squeezed gently, commanding his attention.
“Joe isn’t here, Zach, but I am. Joe was my friend. That makes you my friend, too. That means if you need help, I’ll help you. You understand?”
“I can’t believe he’s dead.”
“Listen to me, son. Joe can’t help you, but I can.”
The kid blinked as if he was only now hearing the words. Then his eyes teared up. “You mean it?”
“I mean it. We’re both going to help you. How did you get here?”
Zach sniffed, wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “I hitched.”
“When was the last time you ate?”
“I don’t know . . . yesterday, maybe. I took the money out of my savings bank, but I ran out a couple days ago.”
“How long have you been traveling?”
“Five or six days, I guess. I didn’t leave town right away. One of my friends hid me out for a couple of days and I got stranded a few times on the road.”
Probably left Austin the night his father went on a rampage, Linc figured as the puzzle became clearer. The night Archer beat the hell out of the woman he was living with and apparently his son, as well.
Linc’s gaze remained steady on the boy. “All right, Zach, here’s what we’re going to do. First we’re going to get you fed, then we’re taking you home. We’ll talk and we’ll figure this out.”
“Who are you?”
“Like I said, I’m a friend of Joe’s. My name is Lincoln Cain.” Linc managed to smile even as he was thinking of putting his hands around Ray Archer’s throat and squeezing some sense into him. “You can call me Linc. The lady is Carly Drake—she’s Joe’s granddaughter.”
The boy’s gaze swung to Carly, who managed to summon a smile. “I think your mom and my mom were half sisters. I know Joe had two wives and they each had a daughter. One of them must have been your mom. That makes us cousins.”
Hope washed away some of the worry in the kid’s blue eyes. “Really?”
Carly’s smile went from forced to sincere. “Yes. It’s nice to meet you, Zach.”
“It’s nice to meet you, too. Are you really gonna help me?”
“You’re family. Of course we’re going to help you.”
“If you’re ready,” Linc said. “Why don’t we go get that food?”
Carly rested a hand on the boy’s back to urge him toward the door and he winced. Linc lifted his shirt, saw the angry red stripes, and silently cursed.
“Ever ything’s going to be okay, son,” he said. “I promise.”
The boy swallowed. Linc could tell he was fighting to hold back tears. Wrapping an arm around the kid’s bony shoulders, he pulled him into his side and hung on. Zach took a shuddering breath and for a moment leaned against him.
Over the boy’s head he saw Carly wiping moisture from her cheeks.