Chapter 13
They stopped at a gas station on the edge of town and Amber filled up her tank. As they sat there, they saw SammyJo’s car go past. In seconds, she’d turned around and come back to pull up near them. “Where are we going?”
“We’re going to check at the Creekside Inn first. Did you see any restaurants around there or anything?” Shyanna asked.
“Yeah. There’s a little diner right across the street.”
“Good. Go sit outside the diner. I’ll see if I can spot Max’s truck in the parking lot of the motel.”
“Will do.” SammyJo waved as she drove away.
Shyanna caught Amos’s eye. “Thank you.”
“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” the tall young man said. “Jensen’s a good guy. He didn’t deserve whatever’s happened to him.”
She could feel her resolution faltering. “I have something I have to say to him, something he’s said to me over and over and I couldn’t work up the courage to say to him.”
Amos wrapped an arm around her shoulder and squeezed. “I know what it is. And you’ll get a chance to tell him if we have anything to do with it.”
“Thanks.” She slid back into the center of the front seat and braced the shotgun between her knees again.
Amber pulled out and drove three blocks, then wheeled her little car into the motel parking lot.
They drove slowly through it, Shyanna’s eyes scanning the vehicles.
They were about to come around the far back corner to head back to the front when she yelled, “Stop!”
There it sat, Max’s big dualie truck, dark blue with red and white swish stripes up its sides. “I can’t tell which room he’s renting from where it’s parked,” Amber said.
Shyanna chuckled. “No, but I’ve got an idea. Pull up out in front of the office and let me out.”
“You sure about this?” Amos asked.
“Oh, yeah.” They rolled to a stop in front of the doors and Shyanna slid out.
Striding through the door, she worked to feign a lost look and walked slowly up to the desk. The clerk looked up. “Can I help you?”
“Um, I’m not sure. I’m lookin’ for somebody. A cowboy? Sumbitch is my baby-daddy and he’s like six months behind in his child support. I’ve been lookin’ for him for weeks. Is he stayin’ here?”
The clerk shifted uncomfortably on her feet. “Um, I’m not supposed to give out infor―”
“You got kids, Miss … Rachel?” Shyanna asked, looking at the young woman’s name tag.
“Yeah. A boy and a girl.”
“Got an ex?” Shyanna asked.
She girl snorted. “Oh, yeah. Dumb sumbitch. He don’t pay his child support neither. Owes me ’bout two thousand, give or take a hunnert.”
“Girl, you know what I’m goin’ through then. Tryin’ to feed a young’un, no money, and that jackass lookin’ for buckle bunnies in ever’ town he goes to,” Shyanna drawled.
“Oh, that rodeo guy? I seen him come in here last night. He thinks he’s the cock o’ the walk, don’t he?” the woman said with a disgusted sneer on her face.
“Yeah. He’s a real piece o’ work. And I need that money. I think he’s spendin’ it on girls. I’m purty sure that’s his truck out back. I’d sure like to surprise him, if ya know what I mean.”
The girl snorted again. “Room one-oh-three. I seen ’im goin’ out ’bout a hour ago. With some fancy man in a suit and glasses.”
The Zesser guy, Shyanna thought. “Yeah. That’s him and that no-count lawyer of his, damn shyster.”
“Well, good luck. I’m bettin’ he done spent all his money, but I hope you rattle his chain good,” Rachel said.
“Thanks. I get that money, I’ll come back and take ya for a burger, how’s that?” Shyanna said with a tiny smile.
“That’d be nice,” the young woman said, and Shyanna waved to her as she headed out the door.
“Any luck?” Amber asked when she slipped into the car.
“Oh, yeah. Room one-oh-three.”
“What now?”
Shyanna chuckled. “I’m opening that door.”
“You can’t kick that one in,” Amos warned. “Everybody will hear you.”
“No, but I can still get it open,” she said and pulled the picks from her pocket with a flourish.
“Good deal. Let’s go,” Amber chirped and drove around the building.
Amos stood watch at the corner of the building while Shyanna picked the lock on the door and Amber sat there in the car, ready to move. When the door opened, Shyanna was unprepared for what she saw.
Boxes and boxes. Opening the one nearest the door, she found dozens of bottles of something.
She used her phone as a flashlight and took a look at one of them: Oxycodone ER.
80 mg. The label had a huge red “X” drawn across it and as she looked through the box, she realized all of them were marked that way.
Closing the flap on the top, she noticed a label.
QC Reject.
“Holy shit,” she muttered out loud. Swinging the phone’s flashlight beam around the room, she tried to count the boxes and couldn’t.
There were just too many, with only a tiny walkway left to get to the bed, the desk, and the bathroom.
She used her phone to snap several pics of the boxes and even the room, its flash working overtime in the darkened interior.
Slipping back into the front seat, they waited while Amos ran to the car and jumped in. When she’d backed out of the space and headed out, Amber asked, “Well?”
“Drugs. They’re everywhere. I knew he was fucking selling them at the events, but I had no idea how much. There’s hundreds of thousands of dollars in drugs in there.”
“Cocaine?”
“No. Oxycodone. Quality control rejects. That suit is getting them out of there somehow and recycling them as street drugs. They’re in this together,” Shyanna said, overwhelmed.
“Here. It’s SammyJo,” Amber said, handing her phone to Shyanna again.
“Whatcha got?” Shyanna asked.
“Max is in the diner. And there’s this guy in a suit in there with him,” she reported.
“Glasses? Kinda thinning hair on top?”
“Yeah! Long, sad-looking face,” SammyJo said.
“That’s him.” Shyanna thought for a minute. “We’re coming, but we’re going to the other side of the parking lot. Let me know if they move before we get there.”
SammyJo agreed and they slipped across the street and parked in the opposite end of the lot from SammyJo. They hadn’t been there long when the suit came out and walked to a car, and Shyanna called SammyJo. “I’ve got the suit. Watch and call me when Max heads back to the motel.”
“Yes, ma’am,” SammyJo answered before ending the call.
They watched the guy drop down into a brand-new BMW sportster and back out, and Amber followed him at a distance.
He drove four blocks down the street and pulled into a larger, nicer hotel’s parking lot.
As soon as Amber could get the car parked, she jumped out.
“He doesn’t know me. I’ll follow him in and let you know where he goes.
” Before Shyanna had a chance to argue, the girl was gone.
In three minutes, she was back. “He’s in room three twenty-eight, and there’s a back stairwell.”
“Then I’m going. You two stay here,” Shyanna ordered.
“I’m coming with you,” Amos announced.
Shyanna shook her head. “No, you―”
“I’m coming with you. No discussion.” In seconds, he was trailing behind her as they headed to the back staircase.
The stairwell spit them out at the end of the hallway on the third floor. With cat-like stealth they walked quietly, looking at the doors until they found the right one. Standing to either side of the door, Shyanna knocked while Amos leaned against the wall.
The door opened a crack and two eyes behind glasses peered out. “Can I help you?”
Shyanna opened her jacket so the butt of her shotgun showed to only him. “Yeah. Open this door or I’m going to pull this thing and I won’t be using it to talk to you.” He tried to shut the door, but Amos’s foot was in the way. “That’s not very hospitable.”
He glanced from Shyanna to Amos, then opened the door. Shyanna stepped in first and drew the shotgun out as Amos followed and closed the door behind her. “What do you want?” the man asked.
“I want to know where Jensen Strader is.”
The look on the man’s face was no act. Shyanna could tell he had no idea. “Who?”
“Jensen Strader. Tall cowboy, roper and rough stock rider.”
“Who are you?” the man asked.
“None of your damn business. I want to know where Jensen is.”
“Lady, I have no idea,” the man said.
“I know what’s going on between you, Max, and the rodeo association.” Time to call his bluff, Shyanna thought. “I’ve already talked to Jimmy Fuller.”
The man sat down hard on the bed and sighed. “I should’ve known these dumbass cowboys couldn’t handle an operation like this,” he said, his voice full of scorn as he stared at his hands.
“You’d better watch what the hell you say,” Amos growled.
“You two don’t seem too bright or you wouldn’t be here threatening me,” he said.
“Oh yeah?” Shyanna grinned. “I should tell you, I’ve been in Max Barlow’s motel room and I know where that shit came from. So you’re already implicated. Still think I’m a dumb cowboy?”
He stared up at her and then laughed. “Wait! I know who you are! You’re the cowgirl they’ve been trying to get rid of! Shyanna Owens!”
Shyanna completely lost her patience. With the shotgun barrel pressed under his chin until his head was forced back, she whispered in a hiss, “You don’t know shit. If you want to be around to serve your prison term, you’d better start talking. Where’s Jensen Strader?”
“I really have no idea.” He wasn’t lying. She almost told him she knew he was telling the truth, but he stopped that with, “Whatever’s happened to him, I’m sure Max is responsible.”
“I’d already figured that out. So here’s how this is going to go.
You’re coming with us. And we’re going to find Max.
When we do, you’ll have one last chance.
Got that?” Shyanna said, shoving the shotgun barrel even harder into the flesh under his chin.
He nodded as best he could. “Okay. Here we go. Don’t try anything ridiculous or I’ll be forced to shoot you, and I won’t mind a bit. ”