Chapter Five
It was time for Linc to go home. He didn’t drink more than a beer or two when he was riding and he never stayed late. But Carly was still sitting at the bar, and with the trouble swirling around her, he wanted to be sure she got home safely.
Yesterday at the meeting in her office, she had dropped the bombshell that Drake Trucking was edging toward bankruptcy. Joe Drake had been a very successful businessman all his life. His health issues and medical bills could have been the source of his money problems, as Carly had suggested. Maybe it was the reason Joe had come to him for help.
But Joe hadn’t mentioned money at all, and Linc had a feeling the old man didn’t know how bad things had gotten. Linc wanted to know what had happened to take the company down so fast, and he intended to find out.
Be easier with Carly’s cooperation, but that might take some convincing. She already saw him as powerful and controlling—which he was. But he was more than those things, or at least tried to be.
He needed to know what was happening at Drake Trucking, but first he’d do a little digging, ask around, see what he could turn up on his own.
He wondered if money problems were behind the hijacking and murder. Tomorrow he’d call Townsend, fill him in, and see if his P.I. had come up with anything.
In the meantime, his friends were still there. Johnnie was shuffling around the dance floor with Rowena to a slow country song on the jukebox. Carly had caught the eye of every man in the bar, though she seemed not to notice, or maybe she just didn’t care.
She was polite, but not overly friendly, which for reasons he didn’t want to consider, suited Linc just fine.
“You ridin’ with us tomorrow?” Del asked.
Linc shook his head. One day off was manageable, two, not so much. “Gotta work. Maybe next weekend.”
“I can’t go, either,” Rick grumbled. “I promised Ashley I’d take her on a picnic.”
Johnnie sipped his beer. “If I had a girl as pretty as Ash, I wouldn’t mind,” he said.
“Yeah, just think what’s gonna happen on that blanket after you’re done with the food.” Del wiggled his eyebrows, and Rick’s fair complexion turned red.
The men returned to talking and Linc leaned back in his chair. Carly was packing up to leave. He’d give her a few minutes, then follow her outside. He’d stay in the shadows, just to make sure she got on the road okay. Linc leaned back and took a sip of his now-warm beer.
* * *
Carly slung her fringed leather bag over her shoulder. “It’s been fun,” she said to Rowena.
“Call me.” Row waved as Carly headed for the door. Cain was still there, she knew. She’d done her best to ignore him all evening, but it hadn’t really worked. She could sense his presence like a big, looming shadow.
She didn’t like it. She was determined to make Drake Trucking successful again. With the troubles she was facing, she needed to stay focused, be able to think clearly. Somehow that didn’t happen when Cain was around.
She shoved through the old-fashioned swinging doors, out into the warm Texas night. Stepping down off the wooden boardwalk, she headed for her truck.
She was standing in front of the driver’s door, digging her keys out of her purse, when a noise sounded behind her and a hand clamped her mouth. A man jerked her back against his chest and fear hit her. Carly twisted, tried to break free, slammed an elbow into his ribs and heard him grunt, then stomped her boot down on the arch of his foot. He swore but didn’t let go.
Another man grabbed her, pinned her against the side of the truck. Her pulse raced when she spotted a third man, a big dark Latino with slicked back hair and a bushy mustache. A sharp click sounded and she saw the flash of silver as his switchblade popped open.
“Stop fighting, chica, before you get hurt.”
She breathed through her nose and told herself not to move as the blade settled against the side of her neck, but her heart was hammering, trying to tear through her ribs.
“Did you get the message we delivered this morning?” the man with the mustache asked.
Had to be the scrap of paper she’d found in her living room. She managed to nod.
“We’re here to make sure you understand. Do you see how easy it would be for us to kill you?”
When she didn’t nod, the man holding her from behind tightened his hold, one of his hands sliding up to cup her breast. He squeezed lewdly and fresh fear rolled through her.
“Do you see?” the man with the knife repeated, the blade moving slightly as she swallowed.
She gave him a nod.
“El Jefe wishes to see you. Someone will call, let you know when and where. You will say nothing about tonight. No police, you understand?”
She nodded that she understood.
“Go home, querida.” The mustached man ran a gloved hand over her cheek in an intimate caress, and nausea rolled in her stomach. “We will meet again soon.”
“Hey, you! Get away from her!”
Carly’s heart jerked. She knew that deep voice, knew it belonged to Lincoln Cain, and for once she was glad to see him.
The men started running toward the road, Cain hard on their heels. He grabbed the closest man by the collar at the back of his neck and jerked. The guy whirled and swung a punch Cain ducked. Cain’s powerful arm shot out and buried itself in the middle of the guy’s stomach, doubling him over. Another punch sent him careening backward. The man hit the ground, rolled, came up on his feet, and kept running, Cain close behind him.
A car burst out of nowhere, a big black SUV. Shots rang out from the driver’s open window. Carly screamed when Cain went down. The car slowed long enough for her attackers to pile inside and Carly ran toward Cain.
He grabbed her wrist, jerked her down on top of him, and rolled her beneath him, shielding her with his body as the car sped off down the road, a couple of shots firing into the air, tires screeching on the asphalt as the vehicle disappeared.
Carly struggled to breathe, her heart beating frantically beneath the big body pinning her down. Cain lifted himself away and got to his feet, reached down, caught her hand, and hauled her up beside him.
“I thought . . . thought they’d shot you.” She could still feel the imprint of his big, hard body, hear the slide of black leather as he had moved to protect her. “Are you okay?” Her voice was shaking, but so was everything else.
Cain swore foully. “I’m fine, smart enough to take cover, not run toward a guy who’s shooting at me. You should have stayed back. You could have been killed.”
She looked up at him. “So could you, but you came to help me anyway. I figured I owed you the same.”
He just stared at her as if she’d lost her mind; then a faint smile touched his lips. “What the hell happened? Are you all right? Dammit, you’re shaking.” He pulled her into his arms, and though she told herself to push him away, she relaxed into that big broad chest and for the first time felt safe.
“Did they hurt you?” he asked, smoothing back her hair.
“No, but I thought . . . thought they were going to.”
“You’re safe now. Just take it easy.”
His warmth seeped into her and her trembling began to ease. “I’d just reached the pickup. They seemed . . . seemed to come out of nowhere. I tried to fight, but one of them had a switchblade. He held the knife against my throat.”
The F word whispered out beneath his breath. “Your legs are still shaking. Can you walk?”
She looked up at him. “I don’t want to go back inside. I don’t want any more trouble.”
He glanced back toward the roadhouse. With all the noise, no one had heard the shots. “Give me your keys. We’ll go someplace quiet where we can talk. There’s a little café down the road. A friend of mine owns it. No one will bother us there.”
She was too shaken up to argue, just dug her keys out of her purse and handed them over, let him help her into the passenger seat, buckle her in, and close the door. The adrenaline was wearing off. She felt completely drained.
Carly closed her eyes as Cain pulled the pickup out of the parking lot and drove off down the road.
* * *
It was eleven P.M. The sign for Loretta’s Café glowed like a dull moon in the darkness. Linc parked Carly’s pickup, walked around and helped her down, slid an arm around her waist as he led her inside.
“Two coffees, Loretta, and some privacy. Thanks, hon.”
“No problem, Ace.”
He gave her a slight smile, the best he could manage under the circumstances. He was supposed to be watching out for Carly. He had promised Joe. Tonight men had attacked her with a knife. When he’d seen her struggling, his protective instincts had kicked in and he’d wanted to tear them apart limb by limb.
In the old days he might have tried. He was a different man now. Smarter. More in control. He fought more with his head these days than his hands, though he still hit the heavy bag, even sparred with a partner once in a while.
They sat down at a table covered by a pink vinyl cloth. Loretta, a fifty-something blonde, set two china mugs of coffee in front of them and quietly walked away.
Cain turned to Carly, whose face was the same bone white as the mug. She hadn’t told him everything. He’d made a fortune reading people. She hadn’t lied but she was holding something back.
“Those guys weren’t muggers,” he said. “They wanted more than just your tempting little body. Something’s going on. What is it?”
She hesitated several moments. Then a sigh whispered out. “Someone broke into my house this morning after I left. When I came home from the sheriff’s office, I found a note on the coffee table. The message was a warning. ‘Sell Drake Trucking to Cain and you’ll be as dead as Hernandez.’”
Frustration tore through him. “Why didn’t you call me? I gave you my card. I told you if you needed anything—”
“I called the sheriff. A deputy named Rollins came out and took my statement. He dusted for fingerprints around the broken window. They’re also checking for fingerprints on the note.”
He wanted to shake her, make her understand that he was there for her. He summoned his legendary control. “How did these guys know about the offer I made?”
“I don’t know. People saw you at the yard. Donna asked me about it. I told her you wanted to buy the company. Since I didn’t plan to sell, it wasn’t really a secret.”
“No, and word travels fast in Iron Springs. How’s the note connected to what happened tonight?”
She wrapped her hands around the mug as if she needed something to hold on to. “The men in the parking lot . . . they asked if I’d gotten their message. They said they wanted me to understand how easy it would be to kill me. They said someone named El Jefe wanted a meeting. They said they’d let me know when and where.”
Anger whipped through him, made his neck feel tight. “How’d they know you were at Jubal’s?”
Her head came up. “I don’t know. I hadn’t thought about it until now, but . . . they must have been watching the yard, followed me after I left the office. Or they could have been watching my house. I stopped at home to change before I went out.”
He shoved up from the table, paced away and back, trying to work off some steam. The place was empty except for an old man in a knit cap sipping coffee at the far end of the counter.
Linc took a couple of calming breaths, returned to the table, and sat back down. “I wish I’d punched that bastard harder.”
Carly didn’t quite smile. “What about El Jefe? Do you know who he is?”
“No, but by tomorrow I will.”
Her mug trembled when she lifted it. She steadied her grip and took a drink, then set the mug back down on the table. He forced himself not to reach for her hand.
“They warned me not to call the police.”
He sighed. “Howler’s a worthless piece of . . . The sheriff’s worthless anyway. Until we know what’s going on, it might be better to leave him out of it.”
She took a sip of coffee. It was black and old this time of night, but she didn’t complain.
“I want you to know you can trust me, Carly. Your grandfather did. I went to see Joe at the hospital after his first heart attack. I promised him if anything happened to him, I’d look out for you. It’s what Joe wanted.”
She straightened in her chair, blue eyes zeroing in on his face. “Wait a minute. That’s what your sudden interest in buying Drake was all about? You were doing it for Joe?”
“Drake’s a viable company, worth my time. But the truth is I owe Joe, Carly. When I got out of prison, I was a pariah to everyone around. I had no money. No one would hire me. I couldn’t get work as a dog catcher. I heard Drake Trucking was looking for a laborer. The day I interviewed for the job, I told Joe the truth, that I was an ex-con trying to turn my life around. Joe stepped up. He gave me work doing odd jobs in the yard. As soon as I turned twenty-one, he taught me to drive a truck. I learned the business, learned to be a man instead of a loser.”
“Why don’t I remember you?”
“I only worked for Joe a little over a year. You were just a kid back then, a sophomore in high school, I think. Probably more interested in clothes and teenage boys than your grandpa’s business.”
She nodded. “I was pretty much a girlie girl back then. I didn’t hit my tomboy phase until a few years later.”
His gaze flicked down to her pretty breasts. Tomboy? Not hardly. “By the time I came back to Iron Springs, you were all grown up and off on your own. But Joe and I stayed friends. Whenever things got tough, I thought of Joe. I knew he was the kind of guy who’d never give up, so I didn’t either. I owe Joe Drake everything and the only thing he ever asked me in return was to watch out for you.”
“I realize you’re trying to help, but—”
“Think about the offer I made. We’ll work out the details, come to an agreement on the price. Whatever’s going on, I’ll handle it and you’ll be safe.”
Carly shot up from her chair. Hands on her hips, she stood there glaring down at him. “I don’t need someone to handle things for me, Cain. I’m twenty-nine years old. I’ve been on my own for years. I owe Joe, too. I’m going to make Drake successful again and I’m going to do it on my own. I don’t want or need any help from you.”
Linc couldn’t believe it. For the first time he could recall, a woman didn’t want something from him. Not his money, not his influence, not his protection.
“Please sit down,” he said calmly, though he didn’t feel calm at all. Carly Drake riled him up in a way no woman ever had. She pissed him off. She challenged him. She heated him up. And he liked it.
Carly sat back down. “I don’t have any choice. You’ve got my car keys.”
He managed not to smile. “I’ll tell you what. Maybe we can call a truce. You owe Joe and so do I. Maybe we can work together to make things right.”
She eyed him with suspicion. “How’s that going to happen?”
“We’re both trying to find Miguel’s killer, right?”
“That’s right.”
“The note you got mentioned his death. What happened tonight connects the murder, the break-in, the note, and El Jefe.”
“Yes, but what does it have to do with you and Drake Trucking?”
“I’m not sure yet, but I’ve got Ross Townsend working on it. If we share information, maybe we can figure out what’s going on.”
She seemed to ponder that. “You’re talking to Townsend tomorrow, right? How about making it a conference call? I’ll be working at the office. You could patch me in. I want to hear what the man has to say.”
“I’ll do better than that. I’ll come down to the yard and we’ll take the call there. That way we can brainstorm a little beforehand.”
She didn’t look excited about it, but she was nodding her head. “All right, that’ll work.”
“There’s one last thing.”
One blond eyebrow arched up. “Why am I not surprised?”
“Whatever happens, you can’t meet El Jefe alone. I know you don’t want anything from me and I assume that includes my protection, but—”
She reached across the table, rested her hand over his. A rush of heat went straight to his groin.
“Joe didn’t raise a fool,” she said, drawing her hand away as if maybe she’d felt it, too. “I’m grateful for what you did—I don’t know many guys who would take on three dangerous men for a woman they barely knew. I’ll let you know the minute I hear from El Jefe. I’ll talk to you before I do anything, okay?”
He nodded. “Fair enough.” Though he’d already decided to put security on her twenty-four/seven. He just couldn’t let her know. He stood up from his chair. “Come on, let’s get you home.”
Carly just nodded.
She sat quietly in the pickup all the way back to the roadhouse. Linc wondered what she was thinking.