What had she gotten herself into?

Miley felt completely overwhelmed and more than a little helpless. It seemed everything in her life was falling apart, and she was unable to stop the decay. Now, she had included Alcide's family along with his team, albeit not intentionally. If only she had kept her mouth shut instead of unloading her troubles onto his broad shoulders.

She was so lost in her thoughts; she didn't realize they had pulled in front of her pickup until he parked and turned off the engine. Glancing up, she noticed Alcide staring through the window with a strange look on his face. "Huh."

Miley frowned. "What is it?"

Instead of answering, he opened his door and approached her truck. Miley opened her door and joined him. Following his gaze, she wrinkled her brow at what she saw.

The once bare rim contained a brand new tire. Actually, as she walked around her truck, all four tires were obviously new. She frowned and glanced up.

Alcide stood at her door looking through the cab at her.

All the way through the glass at her.

She reached a hand out and touched the new glass that had been installed in her passenger side door. Her puzzlement grew as she tried to figure out if some good Samaritan had come along and fixed her vehicle.

Looking inside, she spied a small box placed on top of the piece of warped cardboard that had recently resided in her passenger side door. Taking out her keys, she unlocked the door and opened it. She started to reach for it when Cowboy grabbed her hand and pulled it back. "Let me look first," he said in a growl. Anger radiated off him like August heat off the sands of a beach.

With a swallow, Miley took a step back and allowed him to replace her in the door. Standing on her tiptoes, she glanced around his shoulder as he leaned in and examined the box. He muttered under his breath too low for her to hear and that sent chills down her spine. What did Alcide think was in the box?

Several minutes went by before he finally nodded and picked up the box. Sliding the top up a fraction of an inch, he bent his head over, examining the minute crack. After a few nerve-wracking seconds, he pulled the top off. Miley winced as if expecting something to happen.

"Well." Alcide turned around and showed her the opened box. Inside was a brand new cell phone the same model that had been destroyed. As they stared at it, it suddenly began to ring. Alcide swore and threw it as far as he could away from the truck. They both watched expectantly as it rang several more times then fell silent.

Miley looked at Alcide. "What is going on here? Where did the tires and window come from? Who left that cell?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

"Hoxha." His name was like a foul swear on her lips. "Why?"

"Maybe he feels like he owes you. More than likely, it is a bid to make you feel uncomfortable. To get under your skin as it were."

Miley wrapped her arms around her torso and rubbed herself. "It's working."

In an instant, Alcide was there, pulling her into his embrace and holding her close. "This is going to be over soon."

She melted in his arms, pressing her cheek against his chest as his warmth enveloped her. It felt good to feel him around her, strong and protective. For a moment, she thought of Jacob. He'd held her like this, close to his body, sheltering her from the world. In the beginning.

Then as time went by, it went from nurturing and protective to overwhelming and pushy. It was little things at first - the way she dressed and questions about where she was and when she would be home. Then it became more until one day she realized he had taken her life from her and replaced it with something that she didn't recognize.

Pushing back, she put space between them. Alcide was here to help. Although she did need that help, she didn't need to be held. She was strong enough to take care of herself. Slamming the walls back down, she glanced over at the truck. "Do you think it's safe to drive?"

"Yes." His answer was short and succinct.

Beside her, about 30 yards out, the cell phone started to ring again. Both of them glared at it.

"I don't care if it's a brand new one or not, I don't want that phone anywhere near me."

He nodded as he stuck his hands into his pocket. "Yeah, I wouldn't either. It's not wired, which is what I was afraid of, but it's better to be safe than sorry. There could be some tracking software on it. Not to mention, the fact they knew where your truck was and had the balls to fix their damage to send a message? Yeah, I don't blame you there."

Miley closed the passenger door and walked around to the driver side. Unlocking the door, she slid in and closed it. Alcide motioned for her to roll the window down. When she did, he leaned in.

"I'll follow you to your place. Don't forget, Rissa wants you to come out to the house for dinner tonight."

"I remember," she answered quietly. Sticking her key in the ignition, she started the motor, backed up and made a U-turn in the middle of the road. Glancing at the mirror, she saw him climb into his truck then follow her.

She chewed her bottom lip and her insides were tied into knots of indecision. She was drawn to Alcide in a way she had never felt before. The logical side of her mind told her to keep a distance while the softer, sentimental piece of her heart whispered for her to give him a chance.

"What if he's like Jacob?" she asked herself.

What if he's not? Her heart replied.

Cowboy followed Miley as they made their way back to Greybull. Although his attention was intent on her truck and their surroundings, his mind mulled over everything he had learned today. He had some answers but not nearly enough. If he was going to get her out of this situation, he needed to know more.

His cell rang, and he punched the hands-free. "Montgomery."

Bruiser's voice filled the cab. "Can you talk?"

"Yeah, I just dropped her off at her truck. Man, you aren't going to believe this. When we got there, her tires were all fixed along with the window they had broken. There was a new cell on the seat too, but she threw it away."

Bruiser swore. "He's trying to get in her head. Passive aggressive bullshit to keep her on her toes. Bastard."

"That's what I thought too. Have you found anything new?"

"Yep, let me conference you in."

There was a shuffle then a click. "Hey, Cowboy." He could hear the slight twangy accent of the information technician known as Tex. "I hear you have a little problem."

"You could say that."

There was a chuckle then a third voice piped in. "Alcide. Man, leave you alone for five minutes, and you get into trouble."

"Digger? Is that you?"

"Yep. Bruiser called and told me about what was going on. They're messing with my family, my home. I'm not about to sit still and let it happen. Whatever you need, Demma and I are here to help."

Bruiser cut in. "I've got the rest of the team here."

Cowboy let out a long breath of relief. At least he wasn't in this alone.

"All right. Digger, tell us what you found," Bruiser was all business.

"Tariq Hoxha is a third generation mobster and was the number three in the Bushati family in Miami. He and his younger brother, Loran, broke with the rest of the family last year and branched out on their own taking nine lesser soldiers with them. It's also rumored he made off with ten million dollars in his boss's drug money. The split left the remainder of the family vulnerable to a territory war with two rival gangs, Los Ojos Muertos and the Red Devils. Because of this war, they aren't able to seek retaliation for the betrayal, although if Hoxha showed in Florida, I doubt he would survive the trip. Rumor has it Kreshnik Bushati had put a bounty on Hoxha's head but retracted it due to the cost of the turf war. The good news is, Hoxha is high and dry with no ties to the Albanian mob. He's all alone. There won't be any reprisal from Bushati. The bad news is, the war is winding down. According to the gang task force in Dade County, they expect peace to be declared by Christmas. That will free up resources to come looking for Hoxha. We don't need that kind of warfare in Greybull. It'll tear the town apart. My family, yours, and everyone we know will be affected by it."

"Shit," Toad swore softly. "So we need to get him out of there sooner rather than later. Otherwise, your hometown will be ground zero for a bloody gang war."

"What are we looking at logistics-wise?" Hick asked.

"I pulled up satellite images of the area," Tex began. "The Double H Ranch looks to be a normal working ranch. I compared photos from three months ago. There's evidence of new trails being made, a new barn and several new cabins. It is an elaborate setup that looks totally legitimate."

"Except he's using it as a cover." Cowboy growled and gripped the wheel tighter. "Do we have any idea what his operation is doing?"

"Tariq Hoxha was a genius when it came to making the big dollar. He was well trusted by Bushati and given a lot of room. That's one reason why he was able to take off with so much money," Digger answered. "However, I did find something interesting. In 2003, there was an investigation launched by the Environmental Protection Agency over some heavy metal toxic waste being dumped in the Everglades. They had a witness that had evidence implicating the Bushati family. According to sealed documents, Bushati was being charged with a hundred and twenty-eight counts of illegal dumping and Hoxha had seventy-four counts as well. With the testimony of the witness and other evidence, they were almost guaranteed a conviction."

"But?" Railroad asked.

"But, the evidence disappeared from lockup, and the witness was killed in a freak auto accident. The investigator on the case couldn't find any wrong-doing, and with no evidence, the charges were dropped. That investigator, Derrick Richards, was relocated to Wyoming six weeks ago."

"Son of a bitch," Cowboy snarled. "So he's definitely in Hoxha's pocket. I was half hoping it was only a coincidence."

"Sorry, it doesn't look like it," Digger apologized.

"So now what?" Cowboy asked.

"The pictures you sent me ruffled some feathers, but it's not enough to point fingers at the Hoxhas. There's still no proof they were the ones behind it. We need some hard evidence."

"No, shit, Tex. Any ideas how to get it?"

"There's one way. I sent a package to you. You'll have it first thing in the morning. We're going to need to get Hoxha to talk. We need to get the threats on audio." Tex hesitated. "Miley will need to go in wired, preferably alone."

"No. That's not happening," Cowboy ground his teeth. "I'm not about to let her go into there with a wire and I damn sure am not letting her go in alone."

"I understand what you're saying." Tex continued. "I don't like her going in there either. The problem is time, and we're running out of it. We don't have time to get someone on the inside. "

Cowboy knew they were right, but he didn't like the thought of putting Miley into any danger. He wanted to take her out of here, away from any chance of being harmed, but that wasn't going to happen. They had to do something but putting Miley in danger wasn't it. "No. We'll figure something else out."

There was the sound of a door opening then the rustle of cloth. "Cowboy?"

"Commander?"

Dixon grunted. Cowboy heard a chair move as their commander scooted closer. "Yeah. I've been talking to a few people since Bruiser brought this to my attention. Unfortunately, there's not much we can do about it. I can't dispatch the team out to your location to settle this. Toxic dumping, racketeering and threatening a civilian doesn't fall in our bailiwick."

"What am I going to do? I'm to report back in two days, and I can't leave her here to deal with this alone." Cowboy slammed his hand against the steering wheel in frustration.

"I'm coming up for a visit," Digger answered. "I've got a few friends that I work with who will be taking a vacation in Greybull for a few weeks. I know you have that big bunkhouse that's not being used, Cowboy. I was hoping you could put them up for a while. They're all former military special forces. Let's see - there's two Army Rangers, a Raider, and two Green Berets. Between the six of us, we'll be able to keep an eye on your family and Miley for a while, just as a precaution. We're taking the Starpower jet and will be there late tonight."

Cowboy sighed. "I don't like this," he muttered, "but what choice do we have?"

"I said we don't have any jurisdiction here, but I'm not about to leave your woman high and dry, Cowboy." Dixon interrupted. "I pulled a few strings and talked to a couple of people that I know and trust. You're being loaned out to the FBI during the investigation. I pointed out that they don't know what lengths Hoxha may go to in order to protect his operation. I may have emphasized the possibility of explosives just a bit more than necessary. However, since a Navy EOD is already in place and knows the area, they are picking you up to help. They run the show, but at least you have a legitimate reason to stay and keep an eye on things." He chuckled. "Because, you know, the Albanians like to blow shit up."

They all laughed at Dixon's attempt at humor. There was no evidence the Albanian mob employed explosives, but if it kept Cowboy in Wyoming and near Miley, then he would go along with the ruse.