by J. M. Madden
As they pulled through the other side, Amberly tossed the burner phone into the trash receptacle.
They ate their food heading north on I-25 toward Sheridan, Wyoming. They were several hours out, but would be there by the afternoon. The miles sped by, but they talked little. It felt like they were each a little shell-shocked as their worlds recalibrated. Devlin was okay with that. They each had to get used to their new reality. A lot of emotional shit had gone down, and they had to deal with it their own way.
Then she reached over and grabbed his hand, letting them rest clasped on his thigh. His throat closed up, because this was how they’d gone everywhere together, hand in hand.
What an emotional minefield this was.
Wyoming was beautiful and desolate. It was the true wild west, and he wished he had more time to explore. Maybe after they were done saving the country, he thought with a snort.
They arrived in Sheridan in the afternoon, and immediately drove to the address on file for Zed’s mother, Carolyn. There were several cars parked in front of the single-story house, and a good bit of activity. It was in a higher end neighborhood, with later model vehicles and people walking their dogs on the sidewalk. There was a small, dusty park across the street and down the block a little, so they parked there to watch the house.
“I might go for a walk,” Amberly said. “I need to stretch my legs.”
“I’ll go with you,” he said quickly. It would do them both good to get out. And they could keep the car in sight the entire time.
A path meandered through and circled the shaded park. It wasn’t very big. Kids played on the swing sets, squealing and yelling, burning off energy after school. There were a few moms on benches, rocking strollers with one hand and drinking expensive coffees with the other. It was afternoon in Wyoming, so definitely warm, but there were hints that fall would come soon. Some of the leaves were changing on the trees, and the sun was already heading toward the horizon. It was cool enough they didn’t stand out wearing their jackets.
A young woman came out of the house they were watching and headed to a blue four-door car in the driveway. She was talking on her phone and never even paused as she drove away. “I think that was Zed’s daughter,” Amberly murmured. “His mother is disabled, so she’s home most of the time. The girl helps take care of her.”
Devlin nodded, taking her elbow in his hand to take another loop around the park. “Do we know for sure that he’s staying here?”
“No,” she huffed. “It’s just a guess, because he got out of prison a couple of months ago.”
“Well, isn’t that fortuitous,” he snorted. “Regent gets free as well as one of his boom boom buddies. Any chance that was a coincidence?”
Amberly looked at him sharply. “What are you saying, Devlin?”
“Well, I’m just thinking Regent is getting a lot of help from somewhere…”
She stared at him for a long moment, before turning to look out over the park. “I’m afraid to even consider…”
“But you need to, for your own safety.”
“I know.”
They stood beneath an oak tree and watched as the teenage girl returned, still talking on her phone, and carried a jug of milk into the house. Devlin glanced at his watch. It was half-past six.
“Dinner time?” he suggested.
“Maybe,” she agreed. “Think one of the other vehicles belongs to Zed?”
“Belongs? Maybe not if he just got out of the pen. He might be borrowing one of them.”
They watched the house for another forty minutes until the sun sank below the horizon. The park emptied behind them, leaving a few skateboarders taking advantage of the evening.
The front door opened and even from their vantage point, Devlin could see it was the guy they were looking for. Tall and lean, with a thatch of gray hair in a low ponytail on his neck, Zed looked more like a biker than anything. Ragged jeans flapped at his knees and a chain looped around to his wallet. As they watched, he jammed a red ball-cap on his head and pulled a jean-jacket on over his white-ish T-shirt. He stepped down off the porch and followed the sidewalk to the teenage girl’s car. Before he could hop in, the girl stepped out onto the porch.
“Don’t wreck it,” she called.
“I won’t, baby,” Zed called, and disappeared from view.
Devlin had already turned her toward the Charger. “Let’s see where he goes.”
They hopped into the car and sped from the park, easily catching up to Zed. He was driving the exact speed limit and using his blinkers more than normal. Devlin allowed a few cars to get in front of him, and followed along at a snail’s pace as they headed out the west end of town. Eventually, the other cars either turned off or passed Zed’s car.
“He doesn’t want to get pulled over,” Devlin laughed. “So, he’s doing everything he can to be good.” Then he pulled into a bar a few miles outside city limits, making Dev chuckle. “Well, not that good, apparently.”
Dev continued past the bar, then pulled into the next parking lot and turned around. “We’ll wait here a few minutes, then we’ll go in and see who he’s hanging with. If we’re lucky, we’ll spot another one of Regent’s associates.”
“True,” Amberly murmured, watching the bar.
They watched people enter and leave for the better part of forty minutes. Then Dev started the car and pulled into the lot. “Do you want to approach him?”
Amberly pursed her lips. “Let’s play it by ear and see how things unfold.”
“Okay. Do you have cash? I’m about tapped out.”
She grinned and nodded. “I have enough for a few beers and some food.”
The bar was not overly smoky when they entered, which Dev appreciated. There were booths along the right wall, tables in the middle and the long oak bar was on the left. It was the fullest, with about ten men sitting along the expanse. Zed, their target, sat kind of in the middle on a lone bar stool. No one crowded around him or even talked to him, and he was nursing what looked to be a Coke. Devlin settled at a table a few feet away, but not directly behind him. It wouldn’t do to spook the bad guy. Overhead, country music played old classics.
Zed peered around at them, and seemed to survey them for a moment. When Amberly lifted her brows at him, he made a motion with his hand. “Sorry, thought you were someone else.”
He turned back around on the stool and didn’t look their way again.
A waitress came around and took their drink order, and they ordered some appetizers as well. Then they sat and chatted about mindless stuff, keeping half an ear on the man behind them. Nothing happened for a long time, he just sat drinking his Coke. Then, about halfway through eating their apps, Zed got a phone call.
The ring tone was so loud even over the chatter of the bar, everyone looked around at him, then went back to their own conversations. Dev wanted to lean in and listen hard, but he needn’t have worried.
“Yeah, Cole.”
A shiver went through him at the sound of the man’s name who had haunted him for years. He flashed a look at Amberly, and she very deliberately looked down at the plate of food in front of her. The message was obvious; don’t be too eager. Chuckling, Dev nodded at her, but his hunter’s instincts had been sparked. He tossed back a swallow of beer, then looked for the server to order another. It gave him a reason to look at the man he might have to kill. Very soon.
“They’re not here yet. I don’t know what to tell you.” Zed huffed out a breath. “Yes, I’m on time. Obviously. Can you hear the buzz of the bar around me? I even got here early.”
Zed sat back on the stool, eyes raised to the heavens, as he listened to the man on the other end of the line. Dev wished to high hell he could reach through that phone line and strangle Cole Regent. It would make all of their lives easier.
“Did you tell them the right bar?” Zed glanced around surreptitiously. “I don’t see anyone like that. I’m telling you they’re not here,” he snapped.
Seconds later,
he went a little pale and he hunched over the phone. “I’m sorry, Cole. My nerves are shot right now. My daughter is driving me crazy. You’d think she would be happy to see her pop after he’s been in prison so long, but all she does is bitch…” He paused for a moment. “God, no! Please, don’t! I didn’t mean that at all,” he hissed.
Zed flagged down the bartender and the man brought him a bottle of whiskey. Zed splashed some into the Coke glass and tossed it back, then he sat there listening to the phone. Dev could see the frustration building in the bouncing knee, and the hunched way he sat. It looked like Cole Regent was chewing his ass good.
“I know you’re on a timeline, but I can’t make these fuckers appear out of thin air,” Zed finally almost yelled. Again, most of the people in the bar glanced at him, and Zed flipped the room the bird. Then he leaned tighter into the phone. For a few seconds Dev lost the conversation as the noise swelled around him, then there was a pause, and he distinctly heard him say, “I know everything rides on this, Cole, but it may be too big this time. I’ve been with you for a lot of shit, but this one is something else.”
A few beats of silence as Zed listened, then he shook his head. “I’m not saying that, damn it. I believe in our calling, too, but I don’t think this will translate the way you want it to. Women and children have nothing to do with the laws you’re fighting.”
Zed huffed out a breath and took another swig of his drink. “Yes, I have the list. I’ll call you as soon as they show up.”
Dev shared a look with Amberly. If they could get their hands on that list…
Zed pushed a button on the phone and set it very deliberately onto the bar.
“I’m gonna go to the little girl’s room, Babe,” Amberly said, pushing to her feet. “Whoo,” she trilled, giggling as she swayed on her feet.
Dev had watched her nurse her beer and he knew she wasn’t as inebriated as she acted. She was just a good actress. Bracing her hand on Dev’s shoulder, she reached out her other hand and brushed it across Zed’s shoulders. He turned, obviously aggravated, and Amberly grinned at him. “Sorry, dear. Guess I should have eaten a while ago,” she breathed, and Zed’s expression softened. He gave her a lopsided smile in return, watching as she headed toward the back of the room and the obvious restroom sign.
“Sorry about that,” Dev said, getting a good look at the man’s face for the first time. Zed wasn’t as old as he appeared from a distance. The stringy gray hair and leanness of his body attested to hard times. Dev knew even decent prisons were hard on a man, and if Zed had been in one of the worse ones… well, there was probably a reason why it looked like he’d aged prematurely. “She’s such a lightweight.”
They chuckled together, and looked back the hallway where she’d disappeared.
“Well,” Zed said, “when they’re that cute, you pretty much let them do what they want, and just enjoy the ride.”
“Isn’t that the truth?” Dev laughed again and nodded, turning back to his beer.
Zed turned around to pick up his whiskey.
11
Amberly took the chance to go pee and scrub her hands. It was hard to tell what kind of germs she was touching in here. The front of the house wasn’t bad, but this bathroom hadn’t seen a good cleaning in ever, maybe. Glancing at the mirror, she grimaced and ran her fingers through her hair, tucking it back, then ran a hand down her nape. It was getting longer here, too. Maybe someday she could think about a haircut…
If she wobbled her way back, maybe she could bump into Zed again. Who the hell was he waiting on?
The CIA had files on Regent back to the early nineties, when he was a troubled kid in an abusive household and all the guns he wanted to play with. His father had been a part of the Militia of Montana, a group built on conspiracy theories and manipulated truths. They wanted to fight the perceived governmental attempt to seize their firearms. They also wanted to stop the country from interfering with their freedoms. Regent’s father had eventually gone to prison for a multitude of firearms violations, and had died there of cancer.
Regent had continued on with his father’s teachings, landing himself in hot water many times. His vision had been larger than his father’s, though, and he’d started building explosive devices, which culminated in his attack on a group protesting automatic rifle sales.
For the most part, that growth and movement of Regent’s group was covered by the FBI and later, Homeland Security. The CIA got involved when large transactions of money supporting Regent had been traced out of country, specifically to Russia, then had solidified their involvement when Regent retweeted a Russian Politician’s tweet about being in bed with the National Rifle Association, an association Regent had both criticized and praised throughout the years. The NRA had publicly disavowed Regent and his ‘radicalized’ actions, though the FBI had found connections between the two groups.
The CIA had tried to track Regent down through his tweets, but it was like nailing jello to a wall.
When Regent had blown himself up the first time and gotten caught before he could take out his target, many of the components of the bomb itself had been Russian made. Was he still using the same parts, she wondered.
Stepping out of the bathroom, she put a sway in her hips and a smile on her face. She waved at the bartender for another beer, leaning in to grab it between a couple of men. They glanced at her and smiled, and she sauntered away, back to the table, beer in hand. Zed was in the same position, hunched over his whiskey Coke. She brushed his chair, but didn’t try to find the note or anything. Running her hand along Devlin’s broad shoulders, she sank into her chair and clunked the beer down. “Hey, baby,” she said, grinning at him.
Devlin grinned back at her. And it was a fun moment. Staking out a current bad guy with a former bad guy. Tipping the beer back, she took a healthy swallow, then grabbed a cold fry, dragging it through a puddle of ketchup. “So, what did you do for three years,” she murmured.
Devlin’s whiskey-colored eyes flicked to Zed, then back to her. “Well, I took some time off to wrap my head around what had happened, then I started looking for a job. I got on with a contractor who took a chance on me and sent me to school. Then, a few months ago, I broke away from him to create my own company.”
Her brows lifted in surprise. “That’s incredible. I wondered.” She paused. “Did you ever… meet anyone?” she asked, voice hesitant.
Amberly was as surprised as he was that the question had popped out of her mouth. A slow smile crept over his lips. “I did. She’s… younger, and blond. Not my normal type at all. She’s very obedient.”
Her mouth dropped open at him, referring to his girlfriend as obedient. “What the hell?”
Then she saw the glint of laughter in his whiskey eyes and she knew he was messing with her. Pulling out his phone, he scrolled through the pictures. “This is Tink.”
She stared at the picture of the running dog incredulously. “Golden retriever?”
Devlin nodded, grinning like a proud papa, and her heart clutched in her chest. He would have been a fantastic dad. “No real girlfriends?” she persisted.
Dev gave her an odd look before finally shaking his head.
She clamped her mouth shut before she asked him about his sexual partners, a little hurt that he would be with anyone, either short or long-term. In her mind, she knew he had probably been with someone. Three years was a long time for a man to go without sex, and Devlin had a very high sex drive. At the very least, he had to have an out-of-town hookup, or something.
Why was she thinking about his sex life? It was already hard enough to be with him. Thoughts of how happy they had been before were crowding into her brain, taking her focus from what they needed to be doing, which was catching a killer.
They had wanted a Golden.
A man and a woman walked in. Amberly glanced up, then couldn’t seem to glance away. The man was huge, well over six feet tall, dark-haired and square jawed. The guy would be a killer to fight. The woman walkin
g at his side was striking, with long auburn red hair, pale skin and night-dark eyes. She strode into the room as if she could kill, too, lithe and collected even in four-inch heels. They both seemed to focus on Zed at the same time, and Amberly turned around. Her gaze hit Devlin’s, and he gave her a cock-eyed smile, then a subtle wink.
At first glance, Zed seemed to be a little out of his depth with the two people that walked in. Amberly would take bets on them being Russian. The male, especially, looked over everything, chin up, like he owned it. And if anyone argued, he would be more than happy to beat them into submission.
The woman chose a stool a little way away from Zed, perching on it carefully. She ran a hand down her thigh, smoothing the fabric of her pants. “I’ll have a Cosmopolitan, please,” the woman said to the bartender in heavily accented English.
“Beer,” the big man said. “The biggest you have.”
The bartender, a guy in his thirties, tipped an imaginary cap at them. “Coming right up.”
“I guess we have stereotypes for a reason,” Devlin murmured, and Amberly laughed.
It was so hard to look at Devlin and talk about innocuous things, when ninety percent of her focus was on the Russian couple. She no longer felt the pain in her arm or the tiredness in her bones. All the worry about the corrupt agents faded away as she did her best not to just turn around and watch the newcomers, because she knew some kind of deal was about to go down.
Through the speakers positioned around the bar, a slow dance began to play, and in one corner of her brain she recognized it as one that she and Devlin had danced to the night they got married. Before she could decline, Devlin pulled her to her feet and onto the dance floor.
“What the hell are you doing?” she hissed, truly angry but really trying not to show it on her face.
Devlin grinned down at her. “Oh, honey, you know this is one of our songs,” he said plaintively, and a little louder than necessary.