Chapter Nineteen #2
Hargrove’s chuckle filtered through the line. “So, I take it he doesn’t know you’re Black.”
“You know how it is, sir. In the right lighting, folks who care about that sort of thing usually assume I am what they want me to be. Since it was getting me information, I figured it wouldn’t be prudent to correct him.”
“So how does this all get you what you need to solve the FBI’s case for them?”
“Sheriff Hastings offered me a job. He wants me to take an eighteen-wheeler down to Corpus Christi to the port. I’m supposed to pick it up in about four hours and head on out to deliver it to a specific dock.”
The line went quiet again and Colton checked his bars to make certain he hadn’t lost the call. “Any clue what’s in the trailer?”
“No,” Colton answered. “But whatever it is, he instructed me not to go snooping around in it. I’m to deliver it to Dock Fourteen and come back to Fresh Springs. If I make the trip without incident, there’s a twenty-five-k payout.”
“Colton.” Hargrove said his name on a long, almost exasperated breath. “I don’t like this. You’d be going in blind. We don’t have enough time to set up surveillance or backup in Fresh Springs or Corpus Christi. What if this is a trap? Is it possible your cover’s blown?”
“Anything’s possible, Major. But we can’t let this opportunity slip by us. Hastings doesn’t strike me as a criminal mastermind. The only reason he hasn’t been brought into custody yet is Holden Eames needs him to lead to a bigger prize.”
“Jackson,” Hargrove called out. “What do you think?”
Jackson stared Colton in the eyes for a long moment before he spoke. “I don’t like it, sir. But I’m afraid Colton is right. We gotta see where this leads us.”
“How do y’all propose we take this on without necessary prep and keep Colton safe?”
“I have a plan, sir.” Colton’s announcement was followed by a knowing laugh.
“But I won’t lie, it’s gonna cut into your beloved overtime budget.
If you could spare me a couple of guys from the Spicewood outpost, we could probably get this thing handled in time.
” Hargrove was like a miser guarding a lump of coal when it came to approving budgetary requests.
“If all goes well,” Hargrove huffed, “you’ll learn there’s usually only four kinds of pains in the asses.
Inter-agency, superiors, staff, and departmental money.
I’ve already got heartburn from the BS I’m gonna have to deal with when the FBI finds out we usurped their case.
How much more antacid am I gonna have to take when I hear your ask?
So let’s have it,” the major continued. “How many men do you need so I can figure out how much money this is going to cost me?”
Colton chuckled. “All of ’em.”
*
Seneca walked out of the dinner and followed Hastings to his cruiser. He opened the passenger door and waited for her to get in. She hesitated and her reluctance must have amused him because he laughed and showed her a generous smile.
“Don’t worry your pretty little head, Daniels. As long as you’re the key to getting me my money, you’ll be safe.”
The hard glint in his eye confirmed for her he was telling the truth. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t dispose of her the moment he got what he wanted.
Stay cool, Seneca.
“Get in,” Hastings repeated, this time through clenched teeth. “I won’t ask again.”
She slid slowly into the passenger seat, watching him intently as he closed the door and then walked around the front of the car to get into the driver’s seat. The moment he started the vehicle, her phone rang, drawing Hastings’s attention to her.
“Don’t answer it.”
“I have to,” she replied, fighting to keep her voice even, free of panic. “My boyfriend knows I came here to pick up something from the diner. He’s waiting for me. If I don’t answer him, he’s gonna come looking for me.”
Hastings glared at her, then nodded. “Put it on speaker and make it quick.”
She did as instructed and prayed like hell it really was Colton calling her. She looked down and saw Storm’s name flashing across the screen and panic tried to claw its way up from her gut to chest, and settled in her throat.
“Hey, cowboy, how’ya doing?”
The line remained silent. She could only imagine Storm was trying to figure out if he’d dialed a wrong number. Never once had she greeted him like that in all the time he’d been on the ranch.
“Seneca, where—”
“I just made it inside the diner.” She glanced toward Hastings. “I ordered you that Buffalo chicken sandwich you love. Martha-Jean’s making it up fresh just for you.”
She held her breath, every moment becoming a beat of her heart as she waited for Storm to respond.
“Thanks, baby,” he uttered as sweetly as any man supposedly in love. She wanted to let the huge breath sitting in her chest out, but to do so would clue Hastings in that she was lying her ass off. “Make sure she puts extra sauce on it, please. You know how I love it.”
“I do,” she responded. “Almost as much as I love the newest Apple anything. And just like them, nothing can keep me away from you for too long. I’ll be back before you know it.
” She ended the call and Hastings’s lip curled as he snatched the phone from her.
He quickly turned it off before driving the few blocks to get to the electronics store.
And the only thing she could do was fight to keep the panic out of her face and pray that Colton was somewhere close by to help Storm figure out the clue she’d just dropped.