Chapter 4 Roadtrip #2
“We should keep going,” Cruz piped up from the backseat. “I remember Dex complaining about this stretch. Said it cut right back to the highway a few miles later.”
Finding out that the detour met with Cruz’s approval didn’t make Tucker feel any better about venturing off into the middle of nowhere. “There’s no sign indicating what the detour is even for.”
“Yeah, well, TDOT ain’t big on explaining themselves.” Cruz gave another snicker. “That’s why everyone hates ‘em.”
Referring to the Texas Department of Transportation as TDOT gave way to a whole new round of merriment in the vehicle.
“Wanna know how cowgirls are like traffic cones?” Chip snickered.
“No,” Tucker said flatly. He had no interest in a conversation with the potential of deteriorating into off-color jokes.
Chip was silent for a moment before offering in a sullen voice. “I was just gonna say that they make us slow down and pay attention.”
“Sweet!” Mallory’s voice was bright, though the look she sent across the cab at Tucker was withering .
“Careful, sugar,” Cruz crooned at her from the backseat, making Tucker’s blood boil. “If you keep looking at him like that, we’re gonna have to put up a Men at Work sign, since he’ll be working overtime to?—”
“One more word,” Tucker growled, “and I’m kicking all three of you out of the truck.”
Mallory’s lips parted on a gasp of outrage, but he raised a hand to shut her up. “Go on and tell ‘em, Brat. You know better than anyone else how little sleep I’ll lose over the thought of y’all walking the rest of the way to El Paso.”
She slapped his sandwich against his chest. “He means it,” she announced in a dull voice.
His fingers brushed hers as they closed around what was left of his sandwich. “Pretty sure this falls in the category of brisket abuse.”
Nobody laughed.
“Finish it,” she ordered in a nasty voice. “I’m no longer hungry.”
He appreciated the silence that descended over their group, though he wasn’t thrilled at the possibility that he’d genuinely offended her.
Though they’d never gotten along very well, he knew he was being extra hard on her today.
He silently begged her to understand it was only part of his act.
Not that he cared what anyone thought of him.
But if he did, her opinion might’ve been the one opinion that mattered.
As he scarfed down the rest of his sandwich, his gaze landed on a roadblock ahead. It was comprised of four orange-and-white-striped sawhorses lined up end-to-end. Right smack in the middle of them was a black-and-white sign that read ROAD CLOSED.
What in the ? —?
A trio of ATVs careened onto his lane from both sides of the road, forcing him to brake harder than he would’ve preferred. One of the ATVs was larger than the others, encased in a metal cage with roll bars. A narrow trailer was hitched to the back of it.
Unless Tucker was misreading the situation, he’d driven them straight into a holdup!
Men in ski masks swiftly surrounded the truck with guns drawn.
Chip made a bleating sound and dove for the floorboard. “I’m not ready to die!”
Tucker raised his hands in surrender, sending up a silent prayer for Divine protection.
From his peripheral vision, he watched Mallory follow his lead. There was no telling what Cruz was doing in the backseat. Tucker could only hope the punk had his hands in the air, too.
One of the masked highwaymen marched up to the passenger side of the truck and banged the barrel of his gun on the window.
“Okay, okay,” Mallory hissed. She dragged in a bracing breath and rolled down her window. “Would you like some fries with that?” Though her voice held a nervous tremor, her fake Southern accent was blessedly intact.
Tucker muffled a groan. You can’t be serious! She was joking at a time like this?
The man behind the mask made a curious snorting sound. Then he angled his head at the cattle trailer. “Gonna need you to get out of the truck, ma’am. Slowly,” he stressed in a harder voice. “Then you’re gonna open the cattle trailer, and you’re gonna do it quietly. No talking.”
From the number of weapons pointed in their direction, Tucker had no doubt they would pull the trigger if anyone in the truck tried anything. He had no choice but to watch through Mallory’s side-view mirror as she did exactly what she was told.
His heart constricted painfully when she stepped behind the trailer out of view.
Please, God, protect her. I’m begging you.
He felt a shudder of movement as someone hopped inside the cattle trailer, then another person. No matter how hard he squinted into the side-view mirrors, though, he couldn’t see anything that was happening back there.
He suddenly wished he’d gone to church more lately instead of working an extra job at Johnny’s Dairy.
Ever since he’d left his career as a police detective behind, he’d made a habit of filling every spare minute.
It was so he wouldn’t have any time left to think.
And grieve. And wallow in his ex-partner’s betrayal.
A betrayal that had nearly cost Tucker his life.
He’d spent the last two years internalizing the betrayal and using it as a reminder not to let anyone else get too close to him again.
Somewhere along the line, though, he’d let his carefully crafted shield slip with Mallory.
Though they hadn’t known each other for long, lately he’d been finding himself more eager to hear her thoughts.
Her laughter. Her opinions. The things she said and did mattered to him—so much that the thought of anything bad happening to her behind the cattle trailer made his heart bleed.
He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until she stepped back into view. She walked with her head down and returned to the passenger seat. Then she woodenly rolled up her window.
“Brat?” Tucker risked whispering a single word as the masked men swaggered to their ATVs.
“I’m okay.” She shuddered.
He snuck a sideways glance at her and was alarmed to note the sheen of tears in her eyes. She certainly didn’t look okay.
Neither of them spoke again until the highway bandits roared off on their ATVs. One of them was driving much slower than the others—the one with the trailer hitched to it. A steer was now harnessed inside the trailer.
Tucker frowned in confusion. “All of this to steal a single steer?” That didn’t make sense. None of what had just happened made sense.
“He was so scared,” Mallory muttered, more to herself than anyone else.
Tucker knew she was referring to the stolen steer.
It was the sixth of her herd she’d lost. He imagined she was doing the math inside her head and choking over the mounting losses.
Knowing her, she was also mourning the loss of the steer.
He found himself foolishly hoping it wasn’t one that she’d named and gotten too attached to.
Then he felt foolish for even thinking such thoughts.
The steer was purebred Angus beef, for crying out loud!
Most of the livestock she raised ended up in the freezer.
“One of the rustlers?” Cruz demanded bluntly.
“No, the steer,” she snapped.
He grunted. “You do realize every moo-moo back there is about to become hamburger?” His words were a reminder that he didn’t know that the cows were, in fact, not bound for the slaughterhouse.
“I know, but this was different.” She didn’t say how.
Tucker whipped out his cell phone. “Tell it to the police,” he advised gruffly, dialing 9-1-1.
In minutes, a policeman arrived in a cruiser with blaring sirens and flashing lights to file a report about the holdup.
He spoke into his walkie-talkie to send an all-points bulletin for the rogue ATV drivers.
As it turned out, the detour and roadblock were completely bogus.
The policeman promised to have them removed shortly.
Tucker swung his head around to meet Cruz’s gaze in the backseat. “Thought you said you knew someone who’d taken this detour before.”
Cruz shrugged, not quite meeting his eye. “Maybe I misunderstood. Maybe it was a different detour.”
Tucker’s gut said he was lying, but he let it go. Under the guise of reporting the incident to his higher-ups at the “transportation company,” he called in an update to Lonestar Security.
“Everyone okay?” Gage Hefner asked quickly. A former Army Ranger, he was now heading up the P.I. side of the business for them. Tucker respected him enormously.
“A little shaken up,” he admitted. “Chip is still plastered to the floor in the back.”
“Am not!” At the sound of his name, Chip’s head popped up from behind the headrest.
Tucker returned his attention to the call.
“What’s the company protocol for holdups?
” He was careful to employ an uncertain voice to make it sound like he’d never dealt with anything like this before.
He needed one of two things before hanging up—either an order to abort the mission or assurance that backup was on the way if he continued the journey to El Paso.
Gage paused for a moment of contemplative silence. “How does Mallory Evans wish to proceed?”
“Haven’t asked yet.” Surely, his boss had seen the selfie Tucker had sent him earlier—the one showing that the ranch owner in question was currently seated beside him.
“Call the ranch and make it sound real,” Gage advised in a low voice. “Then keep moving. We’ll have help in the air pronto. ”
In the air, eh? I can live with that. “Aye, aye, captain.” It was all Tucker needed to know before disconnecting the call.
He knew Gage was referring to the new chopper Lonestar Security’s four business partners had recently purchased.
They’d done it right after their newest partner, Attorney Dave Phillips, had gotten his pilot’s license.