Chapter Seven
Julie and I quickly changed our flip-flops for tennis shoes. The only person I knew who could fight while wearing flip-flops was Mom.
“Keep your weapons concealed and act harmless,” Dad instructed.
I giggled like an overcaffeinated teenager. “How’s that?”
Mom winced. “That’s guaranteed to scare off anything with a penis.” The puddle at Mom’s feet was getting larger and larger.
“That is the idea.” I grabbed my Glock out of the desk drawer and stuck it in the back of my jeans.
Julie did the same. “What kind of men did Roberts hire in the Middle East?”
“A mixture of well-trained mercenaries with a few idiots thrown in,” Dad answered.
I grinned. “Lucky us. Most of his idiots are either dead or locked up. None of the prints we ran came back to criminal masterminds.”
“You didn’t run all of the prints,” Dad pointed out.
My shoulders sagged. “True.”
“Now we have to worry about the CIA and their FBI attack dogs too,” Julie groused.
My eyes widened in horror. “Have you told Grandpa Reynolds yet?”
Dad scowled. “Not until we have to.”
“I’ll get a drone up and see how many Peeping Toms we have.” Mom’s tennis shoes squeaked loudly as she walked over to the armory.
I grimaced. “You might want to change first.”
“It’s 115 today. I’ll be dry within ten minutes.”
Julie and I exchanged looks and headed down the hallway.
Miss Kitty followed us into the kitchen.
“No, no, little one. The big, nasty bull might step on you. You need to stay in the house.” Julie pushed Miss Kitty back with her foot and quickly closed the kitchen door.
Halfway across the patio and I was already sweating badly. 115 my ass.
Angry meows sounded.
I glanced over my shoulder. The kitten gave us her death stare through the kitchen window.
Julie laughed. “She’s got your mother’s stink eye down pat.”
“That she does.”
Max, Dad’s cutting horse, knickered at me as we crossed the backyard. “Hang on. I’m gonna feed you.”
“The back of my neck is itching,” Julie announced.
I smiled brightly. “We’re probably under surveillance. Why don’t you do your seductress routine at the pool, and I’ll head to the barn and start the backup systems.”
“What? Your boobs are as big as mine,” Julie protested.
“But I’m not a homecoming queen like you are.”
“Oh, puh-lease, that was a million years ago and what about those sexy dance numbers you do with Dante?”
Julie had a valid point. “Okay. Rock, paper, scissors?”
“Don’t cheat this time,” Julie said.
I rolled my eyes. “You can’t cheat with rock, paper, scissors.”
“You always win.”
“Do not.” I wiped the sweat out of my eyes. “Can we just do this?”
“Fine.”
Together, we yelled, “Rock, paper, scissors, Shoot!”
“Rock!” My bruised fist still looked like I had been in a brawl.
Julie’s hand was closed except for the middle and index fingers.
I hooted. “Rock beats scissors.”
“Damn. Next time we see who can spit the farthest.”
Snickering, I asked, “Did you forget I was raised with five brothers?”
Julie threw her hands up in disgust. “You had spitting contests?”
“We did.”
“No wonder you’re so weird,” Julie huffed.
I grinned. “And you fit in so well.”
“I do, don’t I?” Julie strutted over to the pool and kicked off her shoes.
“Work it,” I yelled.
Julie gave me the one-fingered salute and began a sensuous stretching routine.
A flash of light caught my eye. Yep, we had some Peeping Toms on the hill to the south of us. I bet they were enjoying the show.
Acting like I didn’t have a care in the world, I strolled into the barn. Max knickered at me. “Hold on, buddy.” My cellphone rang. “Stone.”
“I’ve got a drone up,” Mom said.
I hurried into the tack room. “I think we’ve got some Peeping Toms to the south.”
“I’ll check it out.” Mom laughed. “But I can assure you all their eyes are fixed on Julie. She could make a fortune at the Showgirls’ Cabaret.”
Julie’s voice sounded in my earpiece. “Just imagine the expression on Sergeant Bergman’s face if I told him I had gotten a part-time job there.”
“Hoo boy! He would have a meltdown of biblical proportions.”
Mom let out an exasperated hiss. “Miss Kitty got loose.”
“How did that happen?” Moving an old-fashioned porch light to the right, I watched as a panel opened, revealing a high-tech sensor pad.
“She followed me up on the roof and climbed down the bougainvillea.”
“Miss Kitty is heading my way. I’ll keep an eye on her,” Julie promised.
I placed my hand on the sensor pad and presto! The floor slid back to reveal a staircase. “How long before we get some backup, Mom?”
“Twenty to thirty minutes. Your dad just received intel that the CIA and their FBI attack dogs are sending a tactical team to secure the ranch.”
I shook my head in disbelief. “You would think after our last encounter; they wouldn’t pull another dumbass stunt like that.” Taking the steps two at a time, I rushed over to the control panel and typed in the passcode.
“Wait a minute, I thought the CIA were only allowed to work overseas,” Julie interjected.
“They’ll have fake FBI credentials,” Mom replied.
“Why didn’t they simply call us and ask how we got Robert’s print,” I groused.
Mom snorted. “The CIA are a paranoid bunch.”
Data filled the screen. “C’mon. C’mon. We are sitting ducks right now.” The start-up screen finally appeared, and I typed in the passcode.
“We have two hostiles climbing over the fence by the orange grove,” Mom warned.
Dad growled in my earpiece, “I’ve got them.”
The cameras finally came online. “Copy that. They’re dressed like cowboy wannabes and surveillance is live.”
I winced as Dad kicked the living shit out of them. Wowzers, when Dad went into his berserker mode, you stayed the hell out of his way. I quickly checked the cameras for more uninvited guests. “Julie, two more hostiles are at the side gate.”
Julie laughed. “Yep, I see them. The idiots are wearing bandanas over their faces like old West outlaws.” She waved at them all friendly-like. “Hey, y’all want a beer?”
The cowboy with a huge beer belly yelled, “Hell, yeah.” He hurried toward Julie.
His buddy reminded me of a scarecrow complete with overalls. His wild, blonde hair stuck out from his hat and pieces of straw and what looked like manure covered his boots. He grabbed Beer Belly’s arm and stopped him. “No, the boss won’t like it.”
“It’s ice-cold fellas and I’m feeling mighty lonely,” Julie called, giving them a come-hither look.
Beer Belly asked, “You’re alone?”
“Not anymore.” Julie held out a beer. “What’s your name, big guy?”
Taking a quick look around, the morons holstered their weapons and headed for Julie.
“On my way, Julie.”
“Copy.”
Running up the stairs, I secured the bunker and snuck around the side of the barn.
Bodacious and Max followed me.
“No. No. No.” I waved my hands and whispered, “Shoo go away.”
Bodacious butted his head against my back.
I hit the side of the barn. “Knock it off, you overgrown cow.”
“Get your hands up or I’ll put a bullet in you,” Julie shouted.
Miss Kitty yowled.
Beer Belly yelled, “Get that fucking cat off me!”
“Don’t you dare hurt her!”
The bastard snarled, “Let’s see if it can swim.”
“Oh crap.” I grabbed a shovel and charged around the barn in time to see Julie diving into the pool. “How about you pick on someone your own size.”
Beer Belly spun around.
I brained him with the shovel.
He staggered back a foot.
Bellowing loudly, Bodacious slammed into Beer Belly and sent him flying head over heels. He hit the pool with a loud splash and sank to the bottom.
Julie popped up, holding Miss Kitty.
“Fuck!” Scarecrow pulled his gun.
I kicked it out of his hand and ten seconds later, Bodacious head butted him.
Scarecrow was thrown a good five feet and landed in Mom’s prized rose garden.
“He’s a dead man,” Mom growled in my ear.
To my astonishment, Scarecrow scrambled to his feet and took off at a dead run with Bodacious in hot pursuit. Oh shit! The bull was trampling the rose bushes.
Mom added, “And that bull is getting neutered.”
“You can keep the damn cat.” Dad galloped past me, riding Max without a saddle or bridle. He pulled the Taser off his gun belt and zapped Scarecrow. The outlaw dropped like a rock.
My Dad was such a badass.
Using just his knees for control, Dad had Max turn Bodacious back toward the barn and block all his attempts to attack Scarecrow again.
Bodacious bellowed in fury as he was forced into the corral.
“A little help here,” Julie gasped. “He weighs a ton.”
I spun around. Julie was holding Beer Belly’s head above the water and Miss Kitty was gnawing on his ear. “Mean little thing, isn’t she?”
Julie grinned. “With a little training, she’ll put a K-9 to shame.”
“That she will.” I grunted as I tried to pull Beer Belly out. He had to weigh four hundred pounds.
Dad slid off Max and helped us pull the outlaw out of the water.
“Thanks, Dad. Got any cuffs?” Max snuffled my hair. “Okay. Okay. I’ll get you some oats in minute.”
Max tossed his head and snorted.
“Enough Max,” Dad said as he rolled our prisoner over, and zip tied his hands.
Max snuffled his hair.
Growling menacingly, Miss Kitty kept chewing Beer Belly’s ear.
“You’ll do, Miss Kitty.” Dad ruffled her fur. “You’ll do.”
Miss Kitty stared at Dad with love in her eyes. Meow.
“And another female bites the dust,” Julie muttered.
Dad smirked and put Miss Kitty on his shoulder.
A patrol car skidded to a stop by the side gate and Frank got out.
“Frank,” I shouted and pointed at Scarecrow who was crawling away. “Cuff him.”
He nodded.
Scarecrow struggled to his feet.
With one well-placed kick, Frank knocked him down and quickly cuffed him.
A tall, muscular man in his forties walked through the gate.
I scowled. If Agent Grimes was here, his tactical team wouldn’t be far behind.
Instead of a suit and tie, he was wearing a blue polo shirt with the FBI emblem on his left shoulder, I drew down on him. “That’s far enough Agent Grimes.”
He raised his hands. “Is this really necessary?”
“Where are your CIA buddies?” Julie snapped.
Grimes shrugged. “Around.” He rolled Scarecrow over with his foot. “I’ll be damned. Jethro Pattee. He’s wanted for armed robbery and cattle rustling.”
“We believe he’s working for Eric Roberts,” Dad said, holstering his gun.
I lowered my weapon. “The dumbasses just attacked us. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”
“My men caught a few of them.” Grimes wiped at the sweat rolling down his face. “It’s hotter than hell out here. Why don’t we go inside your office, Alex, and discuss the situation.” Grimes said.
Dad’s left eyebrow rose when Grimes used his first name. “Sure, Hawke, but first, I’ve got two more prisoners hogtied in the orange grove.”
“Smith and Jones can handle them.” Agent Grimes let out a loud whistle and two men in tactical gear walked through the gate. He pointed to the hogtied prisoners. “Bring them.”
“Yes, sir.”
Patrol cars from almost every department in the area pulled into the parking lot.
Julie and I exchanged grins. For once, the cavalry had arrived in the nick of time. Grimes and his tactical team were outnumbered. I pulled on Beer Belly’s arm. “C’mon, get up.”
“I’m not going to jail!”
“Yeah, you are,” Julie stated firmly.
Beer Belly jumped to his feet and ran for the gate, dragging us with him.
Shit, the guy was strong. I kicked his feet out from under him.
Beer Belly staggered off-balance and fell, taking Julie with him.
“Get him off me. Get him off me,” Julie cried. Her face was pressed against his armpit.
Agent Grimes and Dad dragged Beer Belly away from her.
Julie scrambled to her feet. “Oh, my, God. You smell like a rotting corpse. When is the last time you took a bath?”
“Dunno.”
Dad leaned down and growled, “Get up now or I’ll let the bull have another go at you.”
Right on cue, Bodacious bellowed.
Beer Belly shot to his feet. “Don’t do that! Don’t do that!”
Dad took one arm, and Agent Grimes took the other and off they went.
Max trotted up and started herding me toward the barn.
“Okay. Okay. I’m going.” I patted his shoulder. “You are one pushy horse.”
Max whinnied, opened the gate with his nose and trotted to his stall.
“I’ll feed Max. Bodacious is all yours,” Julie said.
Bodacious kicked the corral gate.
“I’m coming. I’m coming.” I grabbed a bucket of oats and poured it in his trough.
Bodacious chowed down like he hadn’t eaten in a year.
Using a pitchfork, Julie dropped some hay next to the oats.
The bull snorted at her.
“What?” Julie asked.
“He wants more hay.”
Julie dumped more alfalfa into his trough.
I brushed the dirt off my jeans. “I say, we clean up a bit and go visit Dante.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
We walked back to the house.