Thirteen
Despite the best efforts of the sheriff and Big Spur’s cowboys, the mystery driver was never found. But other exciting things
happened. A date was set for Odalie’s debut at the Metropolitan Opera, so the whole family started planning for it. It was
decided that Josie would stay at the ranch with JJ and Mercedes to watch over the boy while the rest of the Everetts were
away. Josie was happy for Odalie. It would be a very exciting time for her, the beginning of a whole new life.
She thought about her own life, but without much enthusiasm.
She loved the excitement of her job, the adrenaline rushes, the pleasure of doing something useful in the world.
But she still missed her mother, and she felt guilty about the death of her partner.
If she’d made another decision, would he have lived?
Could she have found another way? It was far too late now to consider that.
But it haunted her. He’d been such a good man.
Josie had loved his wife and little girl, too.
After the funeral there had been no more contact.
Josie understood. Her name would be a knife in the other woman’s heart forever.
It hurt more than she’d ever revealed. She laughed.
Who would she have revealed it to? She had no close friends, no real family.
Her small triumphs, her great tragedies, existed only in the privacy of her thoughts.
During the worst period of her life, she’d never had comfort.
She thought about that when the unexpected phone call came from Raines while she was sitting on the fence watching one of
the cowboys work a new horse on the leading rein.
“How’s it going?” Raines asked her.
“Boring,” she lied. “I’m just sitting around here . . .”
“Boss wants to talk to you.”
Her heart jumped. “The same guy I talked to last time?” she asked.
“A different one.” He hesitated, as if he’d liked to have said more but didn’t dare. “Anyway, at the bar, tonight at seven.
How about it?”
“Is it to do with our land project?” she asked, careful of hackers.
“Yeah,” he said, catching on quickly. “He’s interested in that new parcel of land you told him about.”
“I’ll see if I can get somebody to bring me to town.”
“I’ll come get you. But be outside, okay? I don’t want to get recognized by anybody. Just in case.”
“That’s fine,” she said. “I’ll see you about seven?”
“A little before.”
“Okay,” she said.
Then she wondered how she was going to get word to Marlowe. She tried calling him on her burner phone, but she didn’t get
an answer. Just my luck, she thought irritably, and on a day when we’re probably going to get the go-ahead on the big drug shipment.
She thought about calling her office, but that would be risky at the moment. She’d see what was proposed then she’d make decisions.
She didn’t announce her trip to town until after the evening meal, when most of the family had gathered in the den to watch
TV.
“I have to go to town for a few minutes,” she told Heather. “A friend is coming to get me. It’s about the land I’m trying
to sell to that businessman I told you about.”
“Who’s coming to get you?” John interrupted before Heather could.
She swallowed hard. “Raines.” She grimaced at his expression. “Well, it’s partially his deal,” she said weakly. “I can’t cut
him out at this late date.”
“Are you meeting with the buyer?”
She nodded. “That’s what he said,” she replied and with an expression that raised no doubts.
“Okay, but if you run into any trouble, you call me,” he said firmly. “Marlowe’s out of town, so there may be some rough characters
running around Percell.”
She was surprised not only at his protective attitude but also at the warmth with which she felt it. She smiled up at him.
“Okay,” she said.
His eyes held hers for a second longer than they should have. He shrugged and went back into the den. Heather said nothing,
but her eyes were twinkling.
Raines parked in front of the bar in Percell. There was no giveaway limousine here, as there had been at the bar on the border,
where the poor man had been killed. So if this was some bigwig in the drug chain, he traveled undercover.
“Is he here already?” Josie asked Raines.
“Oh, yeah,” he said. He glanced at her. “Why?”
“No fancy cars,” she said, looking all around.
He pursed his lips and chuckled at some personal joke. “He travels light,” he told her. “Mind your manners,” he cautioned
at the door.
“I always do,” she told him.
He opened the door and they walked in.
Josie’s eyes wandered around the bar. Several cowboys were drinking beers. Two were playing pool. But she knew the man the
instant she saw him. Not that she’d ever seen him before. It was a flash of insight, of recognition, that hit her in the chest
like a blow.
He was incredibly handsome. In her whole life, she’d never seen a man who could have compared with him. He looked like a man
who made his living on the screens of movie theaters. He was the most gorgeous human being she’d ever seen.
Raines noticed her fascination. “Yes,” he said, “that’s him.”
She walked toward the table almost in a daze.
And then he looked up, right at her, and something clicked in his mind as well. He stared as she approached him. Red-gold
hair in a bun atop her head. Pleasant face, but not beautiful. Lovely figure. She carried herself well, without conceit, but
as if she knew exactly where she was going.
He smiled. Eduardo Duarte Velasquez was thirty-six years old. He was the sum of the tragedies of his life, which had been
many. He’d lost everything he’d ever loved. Now he was rich and powerful. And it was worth nothing. The people he’d worked
so hard to save, to spoil, were all long dead. The people he’d wanted to prove himself to were also dead. He was a living
ghost, trapped in a life he hated, with no way out. Well, there was one. Drastic and permanent. But not yet, perhaps.
The woman intrigued him.
Raines had recruited this young woman without Eduardo’s approval.
He was uneasy about the collaboration. They were at a strategic point in the movement of an enormous shipment of drugs worth millions of dollars.
He didn’t dare jeopardize that with some inept person who could get them all arrested.
Which, in fact, this young woman had just done.
Not that it was her fault. Raines had been careless and parked the truck at the bar in Percell while he had drinks. This was
not only careless, it was also stupid. These days with so much pressure on drug smugglers it was difficult to find reliable
people. Eduardo himself was very intelligent. His family owned a great deal of property in northern Mexico where he had a
ranch, which was thousands and thousands of acres big upon which he ran Santa Gertrudis cattle. He really wanted the Big Spur
ranch that belonged to the Everett family. His minion had offered a price, he was told, but the owners refused. He wasn’t
told that a threat had been included with the offer, or the minion might not have lasted longer.
But failing the purchase of the ranch, he was more than happy to bid on the lot of young purebred bulls that Everett was selling
at a private treaty sale. He had arranged to go, and it was safe because no one in this part of Texas had ever seen his face.
He would look like any other Hispanic businessman looking for a bargain. Raines had spoken of nothing else for weeks, so Eduardo
had agreed. It would also get him a good look at the Big Spur, about which he had heard so much.
He had also heard a great deal about this young woman from Raines.
She seemed capable, but Velasquez had learned not to trust people.
Especially women. The loss of his child was still an open wound.
That tragedy had led to another tragedy involving the sheriff here, Dunn Marlowe.
He wasn’t sure how much Marlowe knew about his involvement in that tragedy.
It was another open wound that he was unable to heal.
If Marlowe knew about him, he probably wanted him dead.
He couldn’t blame the man for that. It had taken him years to track down the man who actually killed his child after a very tragic mistaken identity and mistaken retribution.
The new cleaner whom his agent had found was inept, terrified, inefficient and deadly all at once. He was still hiding out
from Marlowe, as he had been hiding out from Velasquez as well, for several years. He imagined that Marlowe would like the
man dead as much as Velasquez did. The difference between them was that Marlowe couldn’t bring himself to go outside the law
to do it. Velasquez, on the other hand, was lawless. It would not bother his conscience at all. If he could ever find the
perpetrator.
A bartender just across the border where Raines and the girl had gone to arrange the shipment had killed a man whose daughter
had cancer. He killed the poor man in cold blood with total indifference. And he didn’t know it, but Velasquez had sent a
cleaner after him who would arrive soon. The blind child of the poor dead man would have suffered greatly, because her father
had been her only support. Eduardo had already sent men to find her whatever the cost and take care of her. Not that he had
anything to do with it. Except in a roundabout way. But had he been there the bartender would never have touched the man.
They spoke of honor among thieves as if it were a joke. Velasquez was, in spite of his notorious reputation, an honorable
man. To him, honor was still a rare and precious commodity.
He looked up as the young woman with red-gold hair paused beside his table. She walked straight and proud as if she were afraid
of nothing. Her clothes were casual and not expensive, but she wore them well. Around her waist she wore a holster angled
on what he imagined was the wrong side of her body but in a good position for a quick draw.