Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Nelly
I tossed and turned all night, feeling out of the loop.
I feel like death, and I need to get the hell off this compound, but I paste on a cheerful face when I go to the detention center.
Floydene doesn’t say anything when I clock in for work, just glares at me suspiciously.
“Have a good day,” I say brightly.
Instead of leaving, she stands there frowning at me. Uh oh.
“Why’d you move the file cabinet, anyway?”
I’m surprised she only brought it up now, a month later. But this chick isn’t exactly chatty.
Without missing a beat, I explain that I needed a change.
“I read in a book once that it can help with your mental health to rearrange the furniture once in a while.”
Her nostrils flare. “Don’t do it again.”
“Don’t move the furniture again?” I ask.
“Don’t be reading psychology books that the elders don’t approve of.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Once I’m sure Floydene is gone, I phone Carl.
“Did you know?”
“Know what?”
“Did you know that Moffatt is ordering hits on his detractors from jail? And did you also know that some of the people doing these executions are his wives?”
Carl sighs. “Nelly. Your job is to investigate the angle of forced domestic servitude. We need to build a case. You’re not doing this to take down the whole damn church.”
“Agent, I need to show you something.”
He ignores this. “Moffatt is in jail. The state is building its case against him for fraud and murder. Your assignment is to get information on the federal crimes we can connect to Moffatt. If you’re lucky, you could also be tasked with finding out if any of the murders took place on tribal land, because that would also be our jurisdiction. ”
“Plus child trafficking,” I say. “You heard what they’ve been implying.”
“Implying. We don’t have proof. Stick to the assignment.”
I hate this. “Did you know, though? That he’s still calling the shots?”
Carl grips the wheel. “I didn’t know for sure. But I had a hunch.”
“I can get more information if you let me go talk to the barista at the coffee shop. He’s one of the Lost Boys.”
“And I suppose you’re going to fake another illness to get out of there?”
“Nope. Remember the chatter about the tunnel?”
“Agent Carter…”
I grunt against the file cabinet as I shove it away just enough to reveal the hole in the wall. “Meet me at the highway on the other side of Sterling Ranch.”
“I’m not picking you up there. Are you crazy?”
“It’s perfect. No one is checking on me while I’m working. I need to talk to that kid. They’ll be able to tell me everything without worrying about retaliation,” I say, climbing into the tunnel.
Carl lets out a curse and says gruffly. “Keep to the trees along the creek, and I’ll get you. Don’t let yourself be seen.”
“Thanks, Special Agent,” I say, my voice echoing in the dank tunnel. I wonder how he knows so much about what the ranch looks like.
“I ought to pull you off this assignment,” he grumbles.
I hang up and use my phone’s flashlight to light my way.
I follow the long stretch of winding paths, using my phone’s compass to lead me westward, in the general direction of where I think the other end is.
“Are you lost?”
The male voice echoing in the tunnel makes me jump. “Who’s there?” I ask.
My light catches on a stocky male form. He’s fiddling with something attached to a foundation. Which building it is, I couldn’t say. All I know is, this is not Jake, and I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.
“I’m Ennis. Do you need help?”
“Oh. Y-yes?”
His face is illuminated, and he has the same eyes as Jake. This must be the man I saw with Jake in town. They must be related.
“Wow, okay. I didn’t think the sister-wives would discover the escape route so quickly. Um…what do you need? Food? Shelter? Hospital? Police? What’s your name?”
“I don’t think I can tell you that.”
“I understand,” he says.
“If you could just let me know how to get out of here,” I say.
“Sure! I’ll walk you out.”
The stocky cowboy named Ennis is friendly and chatty as we carefully make our way through the structure.
“Did you all build this yourselves?”
“We had some help, but my brother and I have been doing most of the work on it for the last couple of months.”
“Aren’t you worried it’ll cave in?”
This question keeps Ennis occupied with talk about support beams and whatnot, and keeps him from asking me questions about myself.
When we eventually reach the last leg of the tunnel, I find that Jake wasn’t lying. It really does start with a legit abandoned mine shaft. Before long, I find myself outside, staring at a creek amidst a stand of trees in a massive grassy field. Nearby is a beat-up farm truck.
“Hop in, I’ll give you a ride.”
“I was just going to walk to the highway and hitch a ride,” I lie.
“It’s a big ranch. You’ll be walking over half a mile before you hit a road. Let me drive you to town at least.”
Reluctantly, I take him up on the offer, and we drive over the bumpy, rutted path until I think I might be sick to my stomach.
Eventually, we connect to a smoother dirt path and then the ranch’s main driveway. In the distance, I can see Agent William’s SUV headed this way, pulling over to the side of the road.
“You can let me out here,” I say. “Thanks, Ennis.”
He tries to hand me a wad of cash, but I pretend I don’t see it, and I’m sprinting toward the road, putting this interaction behind me.
Agent Williams is his usual grumpy self as I hop in, and I have to hold on to the grab bar as he does a violent 180-degree turn and drives the car back toward town.
“I told you that was a bad idea,” he says. “Someone saw you.”
“He thinks I’m a cult member who escaped.”
Carl grumbles something about me being harder to herd than a hundred head of cattle, and I decide not to take offense at that.
Nate’s Coffee Shop is busy tonight with an event going on. There’s sure to be a line.
“I’m going to get some coffee. Want anything? Why don’t you come with me?”
Carl shakes his head. “It’s not time yet.”
“What? What does that mean?” I ask.
“Nothing,” he says.
“You’re still holding something back. I can tell.”
His face remains unreadable. I give up and go inside. Carl will circle the small downtown until I’m ready. We’ve almost got the timing down to a science.
Inside Nate’s, there’s a lively book club with wine, beer, and a fantastic-looking cheese tray that makes the watery potato soup I had seem inedible.
I try not to stare as my stomach rumbles.
I try not to look jealous as I wish I had time to read books. Or make friends. Or attend club meetings.
The FBI is my life. Socially, emotionally, it takes up all of my time. How sad is it that I can’t even carry on a proper casual sexual relationship outside of a spontaneous hookup in a mine shaft with a horny, lonely cowboy?
The barista I wanted to talk to isn’t here.
I’m waiting for my extra-tall almond milk salted caramel Frappuccino with an extra shot when I hear the voice behind me.
“Hey, Blondie.”
I don’t have to turn around. I know it’s him. Jake.
I don’t allow myself to react. I don’t turn around.
Because he means nothing to me.
He’s hell bent on blowing my cover.
If any other random hookup showed up at my favorite coffee spot and called me sweetheart, what would I do? Roll my eyes and blow him off.
So that’s what I’ll have to do.
He presses, “What are you doing here, sunshine?”
I glance over my shoulder but don’t give him anything. “Getting coffee, what are you doing here?”
“Same as you.”
I smirk. “You must be one thirsty cowboy.”
“Of course I’m thirsty,” he murmurs, making the hairs stand up on the back of my neck. “It’s been a month. Why didn’t you text me?”
“Do we really have to do this now? My Uber is taking me to the doctor in 15 minutes.”
“Doctor? What do you need the doctor for? Is something wrong?”
This is a lie, of course. My boss is right outside, and I have to report for my shift at the compound in 20 minutes.
“Ma’am, is this man bothering you?”
“No. Thanks, Nate. I got this.”
I wait for Nate to get distracted before I question Jake.
“You want another hookup, is that it?”
“No. Well, yes, but not just that.”
“You want to get me alone again?”
He’s growing impatient with me. “I wanted to do something I didn’t get to do with you last time.”
“Sorry, buddy, I don’t have time for another handsie.”
“Nah. That ain’t it. I wanna kiss you.”
Kiss me?
I swallow. “Why would you want to kiss me?”
“Doesn’t it sound fun?”
“Sounds like a distraction, is what it sounds like,” I say.
“Yeah,” he says, leaning in close to my ear. “But that’s what makes it fun.”
His breath wafts over the curls on the back of my neck, and I shiver.
“I have a lot of responsibilities weighing on me, cowboy. So many you can’t begin to understand.”
“Next thing you’re gonna tell me is you’re not allowed to blow off steam once in a while.”
“We already did that.”
He laughs. “Yeah, but I like you and you like me, and we should get to know each other better.”
“Kissing isn’t getting to know me.”
“But it’ll tell me how you feel about me.”
I look back at him. God, why does he have to be so cute?
“I don’t feel any kind of way about you, Jake.”
“You’re lying. I can tell.”
If only he knew I’ve been trained to tell when someone’s lying, as well as to not give anything away with my face or body language.
But shit, he’s right about one thing.
I do need to let off some steam. And I do like the way he makes me feel.
Glancing over my shoulder, I come face-to-face with his hard traps. They are so close, I am ready to bite them. I just want to bite and scratch and use this man.
“You’re not ready for me to destroy you just for kicks. Not really.”
“Girl, I got protection in my pocket that says otherwise.”
Oh, damn.
My turn at the counter is next.
“What am I supposed to do with that? I can’t do it in a dirty bathroom.”
“Baby girl, we did things to each other in a filthy mineshaft. Who knows what we’ve been exposed to down there.”
I’m entitled to selective germaphobia.”