Chapter 6 Crosshairs #3
Tucker sprinted in her direction, whipping out his pistol and aiming it at the hand. “Don’t move,” he snarled at the life-sized lump beneath the straw. “I’m armed, and I’ll shoot!”
Mallory tipped her face up, gaping at him like he was crazy until a figure sat up with his hands in the air. Straw was dripping from his hair and clothing.
“It’s me!” Chip’s skinny face was pale beneath the grime and straw, and he looked like he was about to throw up.
The Lonestar Security team crept their way from all directions. Like him, their weapons were drawn.
“Chip?” Mallory recoiled from him in astonishment. “What are you doing?”
“Hiding,” he declared hoarsely. “I had to. They were gonna kill me.”
“Who?” Tucker demanded. He wasn’t interested in any sob stories from a gangbanger who’d failed to escape with the rest of his crooked friends.
Chip lowered his head like a whipped puppy and didn’t answer.
Tucker cocked his pistol threateningly. “Who was going to kill you?”
“That’s enough, Tuck.” Gesturing at him to lower his gun, Mallory gently removed the head of the steer from her lap before rising to her knees and inserting herself bodily between him and his target. “He’s too scared to talk.”
Her impulsiveness made Tucker want to throttle her. “ Move aside, Mal.” Now wasn’t the time for her to think with her beautiful heart. For once, he needed her to use her head.
“I’m fine, Tuck.” She sniffed in disdain. “Chip wouldn’t hurt a flea.”
“Is that so?” Tucker lowered his pistol and tucked it in the waistband of his jeans. There was no point in aiming it at her. “Have you forgotten how he filched a hot beverage at the festival on the rez last month?”
Rez was the term most of the locals used to describe the Comanche reservation on the south side of Heart Lake.
Chip’s head came up in defense. “They made me do it!”
Tucker was going to need more information than that—a lot more. “How about you give us a name?”
Chip swayed dizzily.
Mallory reached over to lower his hands to his sides. “It’s your parents, isn’t it?”
He slumped deeper into the straw. “Please, Mallory. I can’t.”
Mallory’s head whipped toward Tucker, then back to Chip. “You figured out who I am, eh?”
Chip gave a weak snort. “I knew it from the start, but Cruz didn’t. That’s why I didn’t say anything.”
“You were protecting me.” Wonder tinged her voice.
Unable to bear the hopeful look in her eyes, Tucker growled, “Don’t put words in his mouth.” Anything she said in Chip’s defense would only reinforce Gil and Dave’s belief that she was in on the cattle rustling plaguing her ranch.
Her eyes snapped indignantly. “Oh, for pity’s sake, Tuck!”
“Don’t get mad at him,” Chip said quickly. “He’s right about my family. We’re bad news. ”
“You’re eighteen,” she protested, shimmying closer to him.
“Old enough to know better,” Tucker added.
Chip blew out a breath. “Old enough to know I’m in a no-win situation.” He glanced wearily at the Lonestar guys closing in on them and held out his arms to them, wrists together. “Just haul me away and be done with it. I’ve already said more than I should.”
Tucker grunted. “Do you see any policemen around, kid?” He wasn’t sure why he called him a kid. Maybe it was because of the defeat in his eyes. It looked genuine enough to him.
“They’re on their way,” Gil reminded coldly.
Chip ducked his head guiltily over his outstretched arms. “Figured that.” He was making no move to dodge what was coming, which Tucker found noteworthy. As far as he could tell, the only group the kid had hidden himself from was the gangsters.
Regardless, Chip Silva knew stuff that was material to the case. One way or the other, he was going to talk. He could do it either here or from behind bars.
Mallory wished like crazy she could get Chip alone. She was certain she would get more out of him without issuing threats and brandishing weapons. So far, Tucker was the only one who’d put his gun away. The other Lonestar Security guys were hovering menacingly over Chip, watching his every move.
She was forced to stand by helplessly while Conrad Cavender laid out a plan for moving everyone underground—people and livestock alike. It was several minutes before she could pull Tucker aside to continue pleading Chip’s case.
She managed to corner him outside Mr. Cavender’s office. “I may not be a hotshot detective like the rest of you, but I’m the only one Chip is gonna open up to.”
His jaw hardened. “If you keep coddling him the way you do, you might very well end up a suspect in your own cattle rustling case.”
She gasped in outrage. “How dare you!”
He stepped closer, glowering down at her.
“Look at it from their perspective. You hired these thugs. All of them. You brought them into your inner circle. You treated them like family. All while you were selling off land and trying to keep your ranch afloat. It doesn’t look good for you.
” As usual, he didn’t bother sugarcoating things.
His biting tone made her heart sink. “Is that what you really think?” Had she imagined the tenderness he’d displayed to her earlier? Because it was long gone. It was enough to give a gal emotional whiplash.
“It doesn’t matter what I think,” he declared flatly. “All that matters is the truth.”
She flinched, feeling like he’d struck her. Oka-a-ay. The possibility that he was beginning to doubt her innocence made her insides chill. “I’m trying to get to the truth. I really am.” She shivered. “I’ll admit I may not be the best judge of character, but?—”
“Then stop playing whatever game Chip is trying to pull you into.”
Her heart grew heavier. “I still need to talk to him. What can it hurt?” She spread her hands shakily. “If you want, you can lock us in a room together. Just give me a run at him. Alone.”
His expression grew stony with disapproval. “Suit yourself.” He pivoted away from her and stalked back to his security team.
She didn’t like the way their conversation had gone, nor did she like the mildly disgusted looks his coworkers gave him when he relayed her request to them. They put their heads together in an emergency meeting she wasn’t invited to be a part of.
In the end, Tucker escorted her and Chip to a storm shelter beneath the barn next door.
“Thank you.” She surveyed the blankets and cases of water in the room.
Tucker maintained a stony silence as he held out a hand to her and Chip. “Cell phones.”
Her heart sank. “You really don’t trust me, do you?”
His expression didn’t change. “We’re just trying to stay alive until the SWAT team arrives. As soon as we make sure they aren’t bugged, we’ll return ‘em.”
She was too shaken to argue. Digging her cell phone from her pocket, she slapped it into his hand.
Chip did the same, minus the slapping part.
Tucker pocketed the phones and held his hand out again to Chip. “And your gun.”
Chip nodded meekly. Producing a handgun, he passed it to Tucker with its muzzle down.
“And your knife,” Tucker demanded cooly.
To her surprise, Chip lifted a pant leg and unstrapped a blade.
Tucker took it. “Now’s your chance to give me anything else you could use to harm Mallory. You’re not gonna like it if I have to shake you down myself.”
Chip shook his head vehemently. “That’s it, sir. I promise. ”
Not looking wholly convinced, Tucker wordlessly backed toward the door.
“What about my sick steer?” Mallory bleated before he disappeared.
“He’ll be with me.” Tucker left the room and snapped the door shut behind him.
The moment the lock clicked into place, Chip dissolved. “I’m sorry, Mallory. For everything,” he babbled. “You’re the last person I ever wanted to hurt.”
“It’s okay.” As bad as things looked for his family as a whole, she still believed in his innocence. She spread a blanket on the floor and lowered herself onto it.
“It’s not okay.” Chip watched her remorsefully. “Nothing has been okay since…” He stopped and blew out a breath.
She sensed he was holding something back—something he desperately wanted to talk about, but was afraid to.
She patted the spot beside her. “Let’s talk about something else.”
He slowly took a seat, giving her a wary look. “Like what?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugged, trying to think of something that would put him at ease. “Tell me about high school. What was your favorite class? Did you play any sports?”
“Favorite class was computers. I don’t do sports.” He stretched out his lanky legs, crossed them, and leaned back on his arms.
Computers. That would explain why he was forever hanging around the computer his mother did the bookkeeping on .
“No sports, huh?” She leaned his way to bump shoulders with him. “I sorta had you pegged for a tennis player.”
He made a pfft sound. “If that’s your way of saying I’m too skinny for football…”
A chuckle skidded out of her. “From one skinny person to another, I feel your pain.”
He relaxed in slow degrees. “I didn’t graduate,” he admitted.
Her eyes widened. “Aw, come on, Chip! You’re too smart to drop out.”
He glanced away from her. “We move a lot.”
Ah . She was forming a mental picture about his home life, and it wasn’t a good one. “What if you could stop moving?” She wasn’t sure what made her ask. “Would you finish high school then?”
He shrugged. “I’m almost nineteen. I’m too old for high school.”
“You could get your GED.” It didn’t sound as fancy as a diploma, but it would get him where he needed to go. He was definitely college material.
“What for?” he grumbled. “It’s not like I’m ever gonna get to…” Like they had before, his words dwindled into silence.
“Listen, Chip.” She swung impulsively in his direction. “I’m sorry you’ve had to move a lot. Sorry you didn’t get to graduate from high school. Sorry that you’re in so much danger you felt the need to hide under a pile of filthy straw. I truly am.”
He kept his gaze on his boots. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“Ma’am?” She snorted at the title. He was a mere seven years younger than her.
“You write my paychecks,” he reminded .
There was that. “Feels like writing paychecks to a pesky younger brother.”
“Thanks, I think.” A hint of a smile quirked his dry, cracked lips. Then it was gone.
“You’re welcome.” She could feel the bond between them growing stronger. However, she hadn’t fully earned his trust yet. Things like that took time—time they unfortunately didn’t have.
“Chip, there’s something you need to know.
” She angled her head at the locked door.
It was something he didn’t understand yet, but she would keep repeating it until it finally sank in.
“The ranchers out there, the security guys, the police that are on their way…they’re the good guys.
” She swung a finger between the two of them.
“So are we. You care about my safety, and I care about your safety. That puts us on the same team.”
“I wish.” He made a rueful sound. “But I’m not the person you seem to think I am.”
“You’re wrong,” she declared so fiercely that his mouth fell open. “Being dragged into garbage outside your control doesn’t make you a bad person.”
“Maybe this’ll change your mind.” He tipped his head back to stare up at the ceiling. “I witnessed your steers being locked and loaded and did nothing to stop them.”
Tears prickled her eyelids. “Against your will?”
“Doesn’t matter.” He closed his eyes.
“It matters to me,” she informed him softly.
“Why?” He sounded exhausted. “We both know I’m gonna end up in jail. With the last name of Silva…” He shook his head.
“Not if I can help it,” she returned tartly.
He gave a mirthless laugh. “Like you can do anything to stop it. ”
“Watch me!” She bumped shoulders with him again.
“I’m already researching work release programs. I’ll apply to be your sponsor if it comes to that.
But if you avoid jail time—and I sincerely hope you do—you can keep your job at the ranch.
” She injected a note of mock seriousness into her voice. “Under one condition.”
“Oh, yeah?” He muffled a yawn.
“Earning your GED is nonnegotiable.”
His eyes remained closed. “It’s not that simple.”
Irritation curled through her midsection. “Aw, quit acting like this is the end of the road! You’ve got your whole life ahead of you.”
“However short it may be,” he groaned, opening his eyes at last.
“That sounds a little dramatic.” She was trying to downplay his words, hoping to snap him out of whatever inner terror was gripping him.
“Call it whatever you want.” The hopelessness in his voice squeezed her heart. “Doesn’t change what you and Tucker have gotten yourselves tangled up in.” After a moment he added, “Along with everyone else around here.”
“Which is what exactly?” She sat forward, slapping her hands on her thighs, making him jolt.
“A turf war.” There was no fight left in him, nothing but bleak sadness. “The kind you don’t just walk away from. But if anyone asks, you didn’t hear it from me.”
“Got it.” Her thoughts raced dizzily. Was Tucker listening in on them? She fervently hoped he was, because a turf war was a whole different ballgame. It meant they weren’t simply dealing with one gang, which was bad enough. They were caught in the crossfire between two of them.
This was war!