Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
Cain figured a man never knew when his life might hinge on expertise in hand-to-hand combat, weapon usage, or evasive driving.
And even though he’d been on leave of absence from the Drug Enforcement Agency for well over six weeks, that didn’t mean his skill set would ever change.
Even something simple like running a pool table might be enough distraction to throw the opposition off their game.
Or not.
“Well, will you look at that? I’ve only got one solid left to drop before the eight.” Betsy Peyton spun the end of her pool cue on the floor. “Looks like a tricky angle though. Maybe you’ll get a chance after all.”
“Yeah, I doubt you’ll be able to make that shot.” Cain cocked his head, pretending to evaluate the placement, then raised his eyebrows as he shrugged. “Of course, I could. Easy as anything. I’d just glide…”
With exaggerated emphasis, she tapped the cue on the floor, flashed him one of her sassy squinty-eyed looks, and bent into her stance. Now that was distracting. Hellfire distracting.
He might lose, but nothing compared to watching the way her jeans moved across her bottom and tightened.
Or the way her knee-high boots, on three-inch heels, made her legs look like they’d go on forever.
Yet, the thing he liked most was the way her long red hair gathered around her face as she leaned in for each shot.
They’d been friends from fifth grade all the way through high school.
Of course, something had changed midway through his senior year when their laugh-filled friendship had become awkward.
Looking back, he figured that’s when he turned into a jock just trying to hold on to his peer status for another day.
Whereas Betsy had buckled down even harder on her studies and got accepted to three colleges.
After graduation, he’d left town and never looked back.
But she’d always been his best friend in his memories.
He’d only been back in Crayton, Missouri, for a couple of months, but every Friday night he’d invite her to a game of pool or dinner.
Every Friday night, she turned him down. Except tonight.
She’d won the lag. Dropped a ball on the break. Methodically sunk every one of her solids since. Now, all that stood between her and a win was the black ball.
“Where do you plan to drop that eight?” He knew where, but he wanted to make her call the shot.
He knew Betsy’s skill at billiards. She was a pool ace.
Fifteen years ago in high school, she’d crushed him, and just about everyone else, at eight ball.
Since then, though, he’d learned a thing or two about pool. And women.
“Eight ball…” She pointed to the pocket closest to herself. Aimed the cue across her fingers. Pulled the stick back, then firmly tapped it forward.
Standing up after she made the shot, she moved her finger in line with the roll of ball. Across the table. Off the rail. Back across, till it finally dropped into the pocket next to her. She smiled for a speck of a second, then glanced in his direction.
“You didn’t even watch.” For a moment, her bottom lip almost pouted, but that wasn’t something Betsy would ever allow. “That was a darn good shot, and you didn’t even—”
“Didn’t need to.” He hadn’t planned on not getting even one shot.
“And that…is how…you run…the table.” Betsy’s hazel green eyes, along with the tiny upturn at the corner of her lips, spoke volumes.
“I’ve got to say, you played one heck of a game. How about you give me a chance this time?” He laid the triangle on the felt and reached for the balls to rerack.
She pulled back her shoulders as all signs of fun left her expression. “Uh...maybe another time.”
“When?”
“When what?”
Edging slightly into her space, he leaned against the table. “You said another time. How’s tomorrow night?”
“No, I’m busy.”
Maybe all she needed was a little time. A little space. He could give her that. There were times that’s all he needed, too. Most people didn’t realize that was just part of life.
“Forget I asked. I don’t need to get hit over the head to know you don’t want me around,” Cain said.
“It’s not you. It’s just...” Betsy stared off into space for a moment before she looked back at him with an inkling of a smile on her lips. “You’re right. You deserve a rematch.”
At this point, he figured that was as good as a yes. “How about next Friday night then?”
She nodded. “I’ll be here.”
“What say we make a little bet on that?” Cain felt the corner of his mouth quirk. “If I win, you have dinner with me next Saturday night.”
The pinch of lines across her forehead revealed just how much she was thinking about the offer. “What if I win?”
He’d lived his life based on risking everything if the result was worth a loss. Maybe that’s what he needed to do in this situation. Put the risk out there. See what happened. “If you win, I’ll never ask you out again, Betsy.”
She walked over and held out her hand. “You got a bet, Cain Connery.”
He shook, trying to figure out why a night out with Betsy seemed so important to him.
He’d never lacked for female company. During the two months since he’d been back in Crayton, he’d had three women hit on him.
One wanted to buy him a drink. One wanted to give him a home-cooked meal.
And one was just on vacation, looking for fun. He’d turned all three down.
“Hi, Ms. Peyton. You did good.” Steven Millerton, the local high school football star, walked up, holding his girlfriend Lisa’s hand. Another couple followed them. “Too bad, Mr. Connery. Maybe next time.”
Cain couldn’t help but like the kid. He’d heard nothing but good things about him and his family. Around Crayton, Missouri, the Millertons were known to be a hardworking, do-anything-for-you kind of people. “I heard you got a full-ride scholarship to college. That’s great.”
Steven looked at the floor as if he were embarrassed. “Yeah. University of Missouri was my top pick, and I got it. I’ll be playing football with the Mizzou Tigers next fall.”
“Your dad’s mighty proud of you.” Betsy patted him on the back.
“Really?” The boy looked up. “He said that?”
“That’s all he’s talked about the last few days around the service center. He even asked if he’d be able to leave work early some days next fall.” She leaned her pool cue in the wall rack. “Wants to make sure he’ll have time to get to your games up in Columbia.”
Cain saw from the expression on Steven’s face that he hadn’t heard the words of pride from his father.
Too bad. Sometimes that’s all that mattered to a kid.
At least Steven had heard his dad’s words through Betsy.
All Cain had heard from his own dad had been something to the effect of don’t let the chains of life hold you back from having fun.
“Alright then.” Steven grinned and nodded to himself. “Hey, if you all are finished playing, can me and my friends grab the table?”
“Sure. We’re headed for a bite to eat.” Spying an empty booth, Cain took a few steps in that direction, then turned to let Betsy walk past. Instead, she hadn’t moved. “It’s just a beer and pizza, Betsy.”
When he’d left Crayton years ago, Betsy hadn’t been skittish.
Shy maybe, but never afraid of anything, in fact, just the opposite.
She’d also been one fiery redheaded hellcat when anyone dared to make a joke at the expense of her sisters or Sadie, her mama.
Of course, Sadie never needed anyone to stand up for her. She was also a redhead.
He eased his stance along with his expectation. “Or would you rather sit at the counter?”
She turned in that direction. “I might have time for a soda, but that’s all. I have to be up early to open the dealership.”
Maybe they could catch up on everything that had happened since high school graduation. He’d joined the Army right after. And left town on the first bus headed for Fort Leonard Wood and basic training.
From off to the side, he saw Steven’s girlfriend, Lisa, leave by the front door carrying a take-out bag of food. Then Steven glanced their way. “Hey, Ms. Peyton. Can you do us a favor?”
Betsy walked back to the pool table. “If I can.”
“Lisa had to run some sandwiches down to her dad at his office. We’ll have to give up the table if we don’t keep playing.” The young man never made eye contact with Cain, only Betsy. “Could you be my partner till she gets back?”
“Sure. Sounds like fun.” Betsy smiled as she grabbed the cue she’d used previously, then glanced at Cain. “Go ahead and eat without me. I’m not really all that hungry.”
If Cain didn’t know better, he’d think she had paid the kid to get her out of having to spend time alone with him. He walked toward the counter. Grinning, he paused just a moment by Steven. “It’s a good thing I like you, kid.”
Steven shrugged and played the what-did-I-do look. “Sorry, Mr. Connery. I needed a partner.”
Cain opened his mouth to make a smart comeback, but the man coming in the front door caught his attention. Tall, muscular, a slight off-set of his shoulders, the slow, measured swagger of his gait all seemed familiar. A Stetson shielded the man’s face as he walked, head down, toward the counter.
As the man passed, Cain eased his hand to the holster of his hideaway gun, then cleared his throat. The man tilted his head just enough to make quick eye contact, then looked back down and continued to the counter.
Shadow. Why the hell was Shadow in Crayton, Missouri? On assignment? Dark ops? Coincidence? Agents never acknowledged each other on a chance meeting until they knew the lay of the land for the other one.
It was almost as if the DEA would be part of his life till the day he died.