Chapter 6
Chapter Six
The DEA field office in Boise smelled like burnt coffee and frustration.
Zeke had been staring at the same map for three hours, tracking routes that should have brought Tina Wolfe to safety but hadn’t.
Each red X marked a checkpoint she’d never reached.
Each missed contact was another nail in a coffin he was starting to believe she was already in.
“Talk to me,” Wyatt O’Hara said, dropping into the chair across from Zeke’s desk. His partner looked as tired as Zeke felt—the kind of bone-deep exhaustion that came from working too many angles on too little sleep. “Any word from your informant?”
“Nothing.” Zeke scrubbed his hands over his face, feeling the rasp of several days’ worth of beard. “She was supposed to hit the checkpoint in Mountain Home four days ago. Then the one in Twin Falls yesterday. Radio silence on both.”
Wyatt’s expression darkened. “That’s not good.”
“I know.”
“The Vaqueros don’t let things slide. If they figured out she took that music box—”
“I know,” Zeke repeated, his voice harder than he intended. He softened it. “Sorry. I just… I should’ve brought her in when she first contacted me. Should’ve insisted on protective custody.”
“She wouldn’t have gone for it. You know that.” Wyatt leaned back in his chair. “These women who’ve been with the clubs that long—they don’t trust cops. Can’t blame them after what they’ve seen.”
Zeke stood and moved to the window, looking out over the parking lot without really seeing it.
Somewhere out there, Tina Wolfe was either running for her life or already dead because he’d asked her to steal evidence from one of the most violent motorcycle gangs in the Northwest. The weight of that responsibility sat on his chest like a stone.
“Blaze is running patrols on the back roads around Laurel Valley,” Zeke said. “Checking abandoned cabins, anywhere they might’ve taken her if they grabbed her before she could run.”
“And the music box?”
“Safe.” Zeke turned back to face Wyatt. “Mia has it. Doesn’t know what’s in it yet, but she’s kept it secure.”
Wyatt’s eyebrows rose. “You told her about the operation?”
“Not yet.” The admission tasted bitter. “She knows something’s going on. She’s not stupid. But the less she knows, the safer she is.”
“That logic didn’t work so well for Raven and me,” Wyatt pointed out. “The secrets almost destroyed us.”
“Your situation was different.”
“Was it?” Wyatt stood and moved to the coffeepot, pouring two cups of the thick black sludge that passed for coffee in the field office.
He handed one to Zeke. “You’re keeping the woman you love in the dark about something that’s put a target on her back.
You’re sleeping in her apartment every night to protect her from a threat she doesn’t fully understand.
You disappear for hours at a time to work a case you can’t tell her about. Sound familiar?”
Zeke took the coffee, even though his stomach was already burning from too much caffeine and not enough food. “It’ll be over soon. Once we get the formula analyzed and confirm it’s the real deal, we can move on the Vaqueros’ operation. Clean sweep. Then I can tell her everything.”
“If she’s still speaking to you by then.”
The words hit too close to home. Zeke had seen the questions in Mia’s eyes over the past few days, the way she watched him when she thought he wasn’t looking.
She was putting the pieces together—the phone calls he took in another room, the times he disappeared without explanation, the way he deflected when she asked too many questions.
She was too good a cop, even retired, not to recognize the pattern.
But telling her the truth meant putting her in danger. The Vaqueros had already targeted her shop. If they knew she had the music box—if they knew she had any connection to their operation beyond just being in the wrong place at the wrong time—they wouldn’t hesitate to use her as leverage.
He couldn’t let that happen. Not again.
Three years ago, he’d chosen the job over her.
He’d told himself it was temporary, that just one more case, one more operation, one more bad guy off the streets would be enough.
But it never was. There was always another case, another operation, another reason to put his badge before the woman he loved.
She’d finally left him, and he’d convinced himself it was for the best. That she deserved better than a man who was married to his work. That loving her meant letting her go.
He’d been an idiot.
“I need to get back,” Zeke said, draining the terrible coffee. “Blaze is meeting me in an hour to go over the surveillance footage from downtown Laurel Valley. See if we can spot any Vaqueros doing reconnaissance.”
“Want me to come?”
Zeke shook his head. “You’ve got your own case to work. Besides, Raven will skin me alive if I keep you away from home another night. How are things with you two?”
“Better.” Wyatt’s smile was genuine. “Turns out honesty actually works. Who knew?”
“Noted.” Zeke grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair. “I’ll call if anything breaks.”
The drive from Boise to Laurel Valley took just over an hour, but it felt longer when your mind was running through worst-case scenarios. Zeke forced himself to focus on the road, on the investigation, on anything but the image of Tina Wolfe’s body washing up somewhere.
She’d been twenty-six years old. Tough as nails on the outside, but when she’d called him that first time, her voice had shaken. She’d wanted out. Wanted a chance at a life that didn’t involve cooking meth or turning tricks or pretending to love a man who treated her like property.
He’d promised her that chance. Promised her protection if she helped him bring down the Vaqueros’ operation.
Some promise.
His phone buzzed. Blaze.
“Tell me you found something,” Zeke said by way of greeting.
“Maybe.” Blaze’s voice was tight. “We’ve got a dark blue sedan that’s been circling the blocks around Mia’s shop for the past three days.
Different times, different drivers, but same vehicle.
I pulled the plates—registered to a shell company out of Nevada that traces back to known Vaqueros associates. ”
Zeke’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “They’re watching her.”
“Looks that way. I’ve got deputies doing extra patrols, but we’re stretched thin with the storm damage cleanup in the county. I can’t put someone on her twenty-four seven.”
“I’m already on that.” Zeke took the exit for Laurel Valley, the familiar mountains rising in the distance. “I’ll be at your office in twenty minutes. Pull everything you have on that vehicle.”
“Already done.” A pause. “Zeke, if they’re watching her this closely, they know she has something they want. You need to tell her what’s going on.”
“I will. Soon.” After they found Tina. After they knew for sure what they were dealing with. “Just keep those patrols running.”
He ended the call and pushed the truck a little faster.
The sun was starting its descent toward the peaks, painting the sky in shades of amber and rose.
It should have been beautiful. Instead, it just reminded him that another day was ending without word from Tina, without answers, without resolution.
The Laurel Valley Sheriff’s Department sat on the edge of downtown, its Bavarian architecture blending seamlessly with the rest of the town’s carefully maintained aesthetic. Blaze was waiting in his office, surveillance footage already queued up on his computer.
“There,” Blaze said, pointing to the screen. “Blue sedan, Nevada plates. Drives past the shop, slows down, keeps going. Same pattern every time.”
Zeke leaned closer, studying the vehicle. “Can you get a clear shot of the driver?”
Blaze clicked through several frames, enhancing the image. The driver wore sunglasses and a ball cap, but something about the angle of his jaw, the set of his shoulders, triggered recognition in Zeke’s memory.
“That’s Jimmy Miller,” Zeke said. “Low-level Vaqueros associate. Does their grunt work—surveillance, intimidation, cleanup.”
“Cleanup?” Blaze’s eyes narrowed.
“Yeah.” Zeke straightened, his gut churning. “The kind of cleanup you do after you’ve eliminated a problem.”
They looked at each other, the unspoken fear hanging between them. If the Vaqueros had sent their cleanup crew to watch Mia’s shop, it meant they’d already dealt with Tina. It meant she was gone, and they were just waiting for the right moment to retrieve what she’d stolen.
“We need more men,” Blaze said. “If they’re planning to move on her—”
“They won’t.” Zeke’s voice was flat, certain. “Not while I’m there. And I’m not leaving her side until this is over.”
“And when she asks why? When she demands to know what’s really going on?”
Zeke moved to the window, looking out over downtown Laurel Valley. Somewhere out there, Mia was finishing up at her shop, probably exhausted from another long day of rebuilding what the Vaqueros had destroyed. Soon she’d close up, lock the doors, and head home.
Home. When had her small apartment become home?
“I’ll figure it out,” he said finally. “One crisis at a time.”
But even as he said it, he knew time was running out. The Vaqueros were circling. Tina was missing. And Mia was right in the middle of it all, trusting him to keep her safe while he kept her in the dark.
The same pattern that had destroyed them before was happening again. Only this time, the stakes were higher. This time, it wasn’t just their relationship on the line.
This time, it was her life.
“I’m heading back to her place,” Zeke said, grabbing his jacket. “Keep me posted on any movement from that sedan. And Blaze? If anything happens—anything—you call me immediately.”
“Will do.” Blaze walked him to the door. “For what it’s worth? She’s tough. Tougher than you’re giving her credit for. Maybe it’s time to trust her with the truth.”
Zeke didn’t answer. He couldn’t. Because the truth was, he was terrified.
Not of the Vaqueros, not of the violence they were capable of, but of seeing that look in Mia’s eyes again.
The one that said she was done. That he’d chosen the job over her one too many times and she wasn’t going to wait around for him to finally figure out what mattered.
He’d made her promises this time. Promised he was done with undercover work. Promised he’d take the police chief job in Riverton and give her a normal life. Promised he’d put her first.
And here he was, keeping secrets again. For good reasons, sure. To protect her. To keep her safe. But weren’t those the same justifications he’d used three years ago?
The sun had fully set by the time he pulled into the parking lot behind Mia’s apartment. Her lights were on, a warm glow in the gathering darkness. He sat in the truck for a moment, watching that light, feeling the weight of everything he couldn’t say pressing down on him.
His phone buzzed. Unknown number.
“McBride,” he answered.
Static. Heavy breathing. Then a woman’s voice, barely above a whisper.
“Zeke?”
His heart stopped. “Tina?”
“I’m sorry.” Her voice broke. “I’m so sorry. They found me. They know—”
The sound of a door slamming. Male voices in the background. A scream cut short.
Then nothing but dial tone.
Zeke was out of the truck and dialing Blaze before his brain fully processed what he’d heard. “Tina just called. She’s alive, but they have her. I need you to trace that call, now.”
“On it. Where are you?”
“Outside Mia’s apartment.” Zeke forced himself to think like an agent, not like a man whose informant was being tortured because of him. “If Tina talked, if she told them about the music box, they’ll move on Mia tonight.”
“I’m sending units to your location. ETA ten minutes.”
“I’m going up. I’m not leaving her alone.”
He took the stairs to Mia’s apartment two at a time, his weapon drawn, every sense on high alert. The hallway was clear. Her door was locked, undisturbed. He knocked, three sharp raps.
“Mia, it’s me.”
She opened the door, her hair damp from a shower, dressed in soft clothes that made her look impossibly young and vulnerable. The smile on her face when she saw him nearly broke him.
“Hey,” she said. “I was just thinking about ordering pizza. Want to—”
She stopped, reading his expression with the cop instincts she’d never fully lost. “What’s wrong?”
He stepped inside, securing the locks behind him, checking the windows with quick efficiency. “We need to talk.”
“Those are four words no woman wants to hear.” She crossed her arms, but her voice was steady. “What happened?”
And there it was. The moment he’d been dreading. The moment where he had to decide whether to keep lying or finally tell her the truth.
Outside, he heard the distant wail of sirens. Blaze’s units, coming fast. Time was up. The case was coming to a head whether he was ready or not.
He looked at Mia—brave, beautiful Mia, who’d built a life here, who’d taken him back despite every reason not to, who trusted him even when he didn’t deserve it.
“Remember when I said I’d tell you everything when it was safe?” He holstered his weapon and moved to her, needing to be close, needing to see her face. “I’m out of time. And you need to know what you’re in the middle of.”
The sirens grew louder, and he saw her eyes widen as she understood. This wasn’t just about them. This was about the case. The operation. Everything he’d been keeping from her.
“Zeke, what did you do?”
“What I had to,” he said. “To keep you safe. But now I need you to listen, and I need you to trust me one more time.”
He started talking.