Eleven
The Brannts were called away to a sick relative, so the visit was off. Josie was watching the little purebred bulls that had
been trucked up to the main stable for safekeeping while the family prepared to go to New York. John was watching the lot
of bulls as well, his pale gray eyes narrow and discerning. Beside him, Josie was curious.
“Is something wrong with them?” she asked suddenly.
He looked down at her and frowned. “Why would you think that?”
She shifted, propped on the high wooden fence with both booted feet, staring out into the pasture. “I don’t know. It just . . .
feels odd.”
He was rolling his eyes. “Want me to hum the Twilight Zone theme?” he drawled sarcastically, but he felt uncomfortable when she looked at him with wounded eyes.
“It’s something I was born with,” she said quietly. “One of Mama’s ancestors was a medicine man. They said he could find water in drought, talk off warts, predict the weather—even hurt people if he wanted to, without going near them.”
He was interested. He propped one big-booted foot on the lowest rung of the fence. “What tribe?”
She smiled. “Cheyenne.”
He studied her. “And you’re redheaded with light green eyes,” he pointed out. “And a pale complexion.”
She shrugged. “Recessive genes. One of Dad’s forebears was Swedish, and another was Dutch.”
He shook his head.
“Were there Native people in your ancestry?” she asked.
“Comanche, they say. In Dad’s background. I’m not sure about Mom’s.”
“Your mother has light coloring like mine.”
He nodded, studying her. “There are similarities. Of course, she never walked around with a loaded pistol,” he added with
quiet venom.
She avoided his eyes. “I told you. I have enemies.”
“So how did you get that pistol past Marlowe?”
Her heart jumped. “He doesn’t know I have it.” She turned and took a deep breath to steady herself. Best defense was always a good offense. “Going to turn me in?” she added with a belligerent look.
“No, I’m not going to turn you in,” he replied. But he was watching her closely. After a minute his eyes went back to the
bulls. “They look healthy to me,” he said.
“Never mind me,” she told him. “I come out with weird things all the time.”
She turned toward him. “But speaking of Marlowe, I really do need to go and check in with him. Could one of the cowboys drive
me to town?”
He shrugged. “Fine. Danny Hill can’t work for a while. Sprained his back trying to wrestle down a bull that we were vaccinating. He can drive you. When do you want to go?”
“How about now?” she asked.
“No problem.” He pulled out his cell phone.
She hadn’t called first to make sure that Marlowe was in his office, so she was lucky because he was there when she walked
in the door of the detention center.
“Well, you look busy,” she commented dryly.
He was sitting, leaning back in his chair with his feet on the desk and his hat pulled over his eyes. He lifted a corner of
the hat as she walked in.
“I had a late night,” he said. He sat up and tilted his hat back on his head. “What can I do for you?”
“I need you to keep something for me, if you don’t mind,” she told him. She reached down into her boot and pulled out her
badge and ID. She handed it to him.
“It’s very uncomfortable having to wear it around in my boot, since I don’t dare leave it in my motel room in case they toss
it while I’m gone.”
“Nice instincts,” he said laughing. “No wonder you walk funny. I’ll trade you for a burner phone that might come in handy.”
She gave him a droll look.
“I’ll lock these in my safe. Nobody will know it’s there except me.”
“Thanks,” she said.
He opened the bottom drawer of his desk to reveal a built-in safe. He unlocked it, put her ID inside and relocked it, closing
the drawer back.
“And in case you wondered,” he told her, “nobody has the combination to this safe except me.”
“That makes me feel more secure,” she replied.
“Have you heard anything from Raines?” he asked, offering her a seat as he plopped back down onto his desk chair.
“Not a word,” she told him. “But I expect I will in the next week or so, because that’s when they’re having the private auction on the ranch.”
“I’m planning to come over for it,” he told her.
“Are you interested in buying cattle, too?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I have a small ranch and I keep a few head of cattle, but I don’t aspire to the kind of purebreds the
Big Spur sells.”
“Then you have some other reason for coming, I gather.”
“I do,” he replied, and his eyes narrowed. They almost glittered. “Velasquez may decide to come himself. If he does, I want
to be there.” The threat was in his voice. She recalled what Tanner had told her about him, that he and Velasquez had a history
and not a good one. But that was his private business, and she wasn’t going to interfere.
“Tanner is really worried about the threats from that man in DC,” she said.
“It’s a legitimate threat,” he replied. “Tanner has enough on the man to hang him and he knows it. He slithered out from under
an investigation once already by bribing a congressman—rather, blackmailing him. But it won’t work this time. Tanner had a
little undercover help getting the incriminating information out of James’s hands. And besides that, Tony Garza has contacts
everywhere and he knows a lot of underworld figures and men who owe him favors. He managed to swipe some blackmail evidence
right out of Phillip James’s office in Washington, DC.”
She whistled. “Brave man,” she said.
“Well, there is always the witness protection program,” he reminded her. “And I know a US deputy marshal who sometimes works
with us on cases. He can’t be threatened, intimidated, or coerced.”
She chuckled. “Sort of like an untouchable.”
“Exactly like that,” he replied.
She sighed. “I still can’t get that picture out of my mind. That poor man in Mexico in the bar just being shot dead for no reason.”
“It’s a cartel bar,” he said. “They don’t cater to human feelings.”
He sounded as if he knew that for sure.
“I’m having someone check that out,” he reminded her. “I have a contact in San Antonio, a senior agent. You might know him.
Rodrigo Ramirez.”
“I don’t know him personally,” she said, “but I’ve certainly heard of him. He’s something of a legend around the office.”
“Indeed, he is,” he chuckled. “Anyway, he has relatives high up in Mexico in political circles. He’s tracking down the man’s
daughter. We’ll find a way to get her some help.”
“I’m really grateful,” she said. “It broke my heart.”
“I don’t imagine it broke Raines’s heart,” he replied.
“Hardly,” she said. “Raines thinks with his wallet.”
“Most people outside the law do,” he said in a world-weary tone. “I never understood why money was so important to people.
I’m happy if I can pay my bills.”
“Same here. And if I can afford Starbucks coffee once a month,” she added with a laugh, “life is wonderful.”
“My blood is ten percent coffee,” he replied. “My brain doesn’t even work until my second cup in the morning.”
“There’s one other thing: I finally got a burner phone,” she said, pulling the device out of her pocket. “Write this number
down so you’ll have it in case you need to call me, because I won’t answer the phone if I see any sheriff’s department number
on the ID.”
“Smart thinking,” he said as he jotted it down and handed it back to her.
“Well, regardless of John Everett’s disgusting opinion of me, I do occasionally use my brain.” She grinned.
She glanced at her watch. “I guess I’d better get outside before my ride goes to sleep.”
“Didn’t John bring you?” he asked.
“If John brought me, I’d be in a croaker sack with the meanest cat he could find or even worse, with Precious.”
He gave a mock shiver. “Brave man to keep that kind of pet in his bedroom. I don’t imagine it does much for his love life.”
“There’s no hanky-panky in his mother’s house, thank you very much.”
He grinned. “Not with his mother,” he agreed. “Amazing woman, Mrs. Everett. Beautiful and talented and kind. That’s a rare
combination in my world.”
“And mine as well,” she agreed, getting up. “Thanks for hiding the information that could get me killed. I’m sure the Everetts
have many safes, but I couldn’t risk asking them to put something so dangerous in their home.”
“Lucky that nobody ever asked you to take off your boots in public when you were talking to Raines in the bar,” he laughed.
“I’ll drink to that,” she replied with a smile. “Oh, one thing I forgot to mention. John asked me how it was that I managed
to carry a gun when I’ve got a rap sheet. I told him you didn’t know about it and asked if he was going to turn me in.”
“Quick thinking,” he said approvingly. “We’ll play it that way.”
“No way I’m going to be caught without a weapon. Not in my line of work.”
“Or in mine,” he agreed, one hand on the butt of his single action .45 Ruger Vaquero pistol. It sat in a beautiful hand-tooled
leather holster. And it was tied down around his muscular thigh.
“Aren’t you afraid you’ll drop that thing on your foot and break it?” she asked as they walked out the front door.
“Never have before,” he said. He waved at Danny Hill, sitting in the truck waiting on Josie. Danny waved back.
“Well, I’ll see you when I see you,” she said. “Should we make up some story about when I appear in front of a judge?”
“I’m hoping you can wind this up before we ever have to face that question,” he told her.
“Which reminds me,” she said. “I still haven’t heard from Raines about when we go after the shipment, and it’s the big shipment.
All this hard work has been leading up to impounding.”
“The holidays are coming up, so it shouldn’t be too much longer, I wouldn’t think,” he said. “I’ll cross all my fingers.”
“I’ll cross mine, too,” she said. “I’d really like to see Velasquez in a maximum-security prison.”
“Roll on the day,” he replied coldly. “I’ll send up fireworks.”
“I’ll be in touch,” she said.
“Stay safe,” he replied.