Cutter's Law

by Judith Rochelle

  "Really?” A job? Should she even consider it? If she and Morgan didn't make a go of things, hanging around White Tail might be uncomfortable. On the other hand, it didn't hurt to be prepared. Maybe this was a sign. “I'd like that."

  "You know where we are,” he told her. “Right on Main Street. Parking lot's in the back."

  "You cramping my style, Marc?” Tate kidded, signaling Misty to bring another round.

  "What style?” the other man asked. “Since when did you have any kind of style at all?"

  Derek leaned forward toward Marc and Tate. In a quiet voice, he asked, “Either of you two guys ever see those men at the next table? I thought we knew all the ranch hands around here."

  They both shook their heads. “I'm pretty sure I'd know if they were,” Tate told him. “This is a pretty close-knit ranching community."

  "Say, Misty.” Derek caught her elbow as she deposited their next round of drinks on their table. “You have any idea who those guys are at the next table?” He nodded toward the Hispanic men. “We don't get too many strangers in here."

  Misty shrugged. “Just passing through. They said they were looking for a place to get a hamburger and a beer before hitting the road again, and Frank at the gas station sent them over here."

  "You think there's something wrong?” Donna leaned closer to her husband.

  "No, just curious.” But a tiny frown formed between his eyebrows.

  The pleasant banter and joking and the warm friendship she felt from these people made Allison relax and the evening passed quickly. She hadn't thought she was hungry, but Derek ordered cheeseburgers and curly fries for all of them and the aroma alone was enough to wake up her taste buds. By the time they left, she was feeling less tense and anxious, and more optimistic that things might work out for her and Morgan.

  "Give him some space,” Donna advised her. “He'll get it done."

  "He asked me to trust him, but how can I do that? The bitch is still in his house, working her evil magic."

  Derek put his hands on her shoulders. “I would trust Morgan Cutter with my life. I'd trust him with Donna's life. He has to do things his way, not because he's demanding but because the code of ethics he lives by demands it. And I can promise you this. Amber won't be around one minute more than is absolutely necessary. If you're worried about Morgan falling into her trap again, wipe that from your mind."

  "Have a little faith in him, honey.” Donna smiled. “He's worth it, you know."

  "Yeah, I guess.” She sighed. “I'd just feel a lot better if Amber was stashed in a motel somewhere and I was the one going to sleep in that house. And Lord knows what kind of trouble she's got trailing her, putting Morgan right in the middle."

  "Come by for coffee after your meeting with Marc. You can tell me if what he's got looks interesting and maybe you'll have some news by then."

  Allison climbed into her car and headed back toward the ranch, Derek's words echoing in her mind.

  I'd trust Morgan Cutter with my life. I'd trust him with Donna's life.

  She hadn't really given him that. He'd put himself in a terrible situation in the city coming to her defense, yet he'd opened his arms and house to her even after the horrible way she'd treated him. And all he asked was this one thing. Maybe it was time to look at the problem from his point of view.

  * * * *

  The Youngs and Allison hadn't been gone long before the Hispanic men in question paid their tab and quietly left the bar.

  "Senor Luis,” Jorge began, as they climbed into the car.

  "Not now.” Luis cut him off. “Not until we are well away from here."

  "But..."

  "I said no! Silencio! Not until we are back at the motel. I have to think."

  They drove the fifty miles in a tense silence, the Osuna brothers being careful to keep their mouths shut until they were all in the motel room.

  "All right.” Luis looked at the two men. They were all sitting around the little table crowded into one corner. “Were you both paying attention in that place?"

  The brothers nodded.

  "Could better luck have dropped into our laps than to have the people who could tell us what want to know sitting right next to us? We didn't even have to ask questions of anyone."

  "About the female?” Jorge's voice was tentative.

  "Of course about the female. What else would we be interested in?” Luis took a calming breath. What morons. Was there anything else important at the moment? “Look what we discovered. The woman is indeed in the home of her ex-husband. And we may have something to bargain with."

  "And what is that, Senor Luis?” Alex wrinkled his forehead in concentration.

  Luis cursed softly. This was like dealing with little children. “Did you not overhear the dark-haired woman talking to the others? She is obviously the chief's woman, and makes a valuable pawn for us. Would he not give up the ex-wife he hates for the woman he loves?"

  "But we don't have her,” Jorge protested.

  Luis glared at him. “Not yet. But we will. Correct?"

  The Osuna brothers looked at him, puzzled.

  Luis let loose another string of curses.

  "All we have to do is pick her up.” He spoke with slow deliberation. “Then we will have a bargaining chip."

  The Osunas looked at each other. “But how would we do this, jefe? Do we even know where to find her after tonight?"

  Luis took a cigarillo from his breast pocket and lit it carefully. He would have to make this as simple as possible for these idiots, and still hope they didn't screw it up.

  "Did you not hear her make an appointment at the bank tomorrow morning?"

  "You want us to snatch her from the bank?” Alex couldn't conceal his surprise.

  "No, stupido. But we will follow her and select the opportune moment. Then we will call the chief and offer to make an exchange. Comprende?"

  They both smiled and nodded.

  "Fine. Then we should all get some sleep. Be ready at eight o'clock in the morning. I will have the plan all worked out by then."

  And pray that they wouldn't make any of their usual mistakes. Oh, Emilio. How could you do this to me?

  * * * *

  The time span between Jace's phone call and his arrival seemed interminable to Morgan. He watched Amber as if he were a hawk and she the prey. She sipped wine and nibbled at her food, her face a calm mask. Every so often she would look at him and give him a tiny smile, but he knew the nonchalance was false. The faint tremor in her hand when she lifted her glass was a dead giveaway.

  He had no idea what Jace was bringing, but his gut told him it was not good. When he met Amber he'd been sucked in by her looks and the way she flirted with him. Like any other dumb man, his ego had been stroked by her flattery, but that was long gone. Now when he looked at her it was with anger and distaste, the superficiality of her as a person too glaring to ignore.

  Dumbass!

  Cochise's sudden loud barking followed by the sound of the doorbell jarred him out of his reverie.

  "That'll be Jace. You just sit here,” he ordered her.

  "Morgan?"

  "What?” He was halfway to the hall.

  "I just—whatever Jace has to say is probably all lies. I know how stuff can be made to look."

  Morgan just looked at her, his eyes dark with anger. “If you think you're setting me up to throw out whatever Jace is bringing, forget it. He does his homework.” He turned back toward the door.

  "Morgan, wait just..."

  But he already had the door open to admit Jace.

  The young sergeant had a somber look on his face. He peered over Morgan's shoulder and saw Amber in the kitchen. “Chief, you might want to do this in your den."

  "No.” Morgan's voice was tight. “We'll do this in front of her. I need to see her face when you tell me what you've got."

  Jace shrugged. “Okay, but this could get sticky."

  "Not any stickier than it already is."

  He left Jace stand
ing in uncomfortable silence with Amber while he went to settle Cochise down. When he came back inside, he and the young sergeant sat at the kitchen table. Amber remained on the bar stool, her eyes narrowing at the folder in Jace's hands.

  Jace glanced at Amber, then back at Morgan, his posture stiff. “Chief, maybe I should walk you through this. The top pages are the answers I finally got on our dead body. The rest of it, well...” His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed.

  "Let me look it over first.” He studied the top sheet. “Where did you get this information?"

  "I tracked down one of my roommates from UT. I thought he'd gone home to Louisiana, but his mom said he got a job with the Dallas PD. He's got connections everywhere and did some checking for me."

  "Did he say why nobody identified this guy as Jared Wilcox from our faxes?"

  They both jumped at the sound of breaking glass.

  "Amber?” Morgan jumped up, nearly knocking over his chair.

  Amber's eyes were wide, staring, and blood ran down her hand and wrist where the glass had cut her. Shards of crystal were scattered on the counter and the floor. Her mouth moved but she couldn't seem to get any words out.

  "Shit! I'd better take care of that.” Morgan grabbed a dish towel and wrapped it around her hand. “Jace, can you get the first aid kit from my bathroom upstairs?"

  Jace nodded and hurried to the stairs.

  Morgan took Amber's other hand and put it on the towel. “Grip that while I get this glass out of the way."

  "Did-Did you say Jared Wilcox?” Her voice was so faint he could barely hear it.

  "Yes. That's the guy someone dumped on Tate Donovan's land a couple of weeks ago.” His gaze raked over her face. “You know him, don't you?"

  "I—I..."

  "Amber, cut out the shit. Playtime's over."

  "Here, Chief.” Jace handed Morgan the kit, and took the broom from his hand. “Why don't you take care of the lady and I'll sweep up this mess?"

  Morgan pulled Amber off the bar stool and sat her at the table. While he cleaned her cuts with alcohol swabs, he watched her glance at the open folder, then away, her face a pasty white.

  "You're lucky,” he told her. “None of these need stitches. I'll put butterfly closures on and wrap gauze around it. Amber, who is this guy to you?"

  "I can't ... I don't..."

  "Jace, you want to give me the short version?"

  Murdock finished sweeping the glass into a dustpan, dumped it in the trash, and leaned the broom against the wall. “He's a con artist, Chief. A swindler. He and his partner have worked every kind of con in the book. Land swindles seem to be their specialty."

  "His partner.” Morgan's voice was slow and deliberate. “Amber, you wouldn't happen to be the partner they're talking about, would you?"

  "Morgan, this isn't what it looks like. I can explain."

  He closed the kit, shoved it to one side and sat down next to her, crowding her against the table. His anger was turning to pure rage and he was having a hard time controlling it. “What it looks like is someone killed your partner. He is your partner, I got that right, didn't I?” When she just kept staring at him he banged his fist on the table. “Damn it, answer me. Right now."

  Amber flinched. “We were business partners. Yes."

  "In a con.” Morgan kept his voice as even as he could, but he wanted to roar with fury. How the hell had he gotten mixed up with this woman? Because I let my dick do my thinking for me.

  When she didn't elaborate, he picked up the first two sheets in the folder. “Land swindles. That's mostly what the two of you ran, right?"

  "It isn't what you think,” she repeated, holding her bandaged hand with the uninjured one, both of them still shaking.

  Morgan spoke without taking his gaze away from the woman in front of him. “Jace, this email from your friend says Wilcox is on everyone's watch list, but he's been slick enough not to get caught before, despite a number of complaints.” He studied the second page. “My, my, Amber. You've certainly spread your charms over the state of Texas. Jace's friend says you've pulled this con in every major city."

  "They were legitimate business deals,” she protested.

  "Uh uh, sweetheart. Scamming people in phony land deals isn't exactly legitimate. And you can't con me like your marks.” His lips twisted. “At least not any more."

  She lowered her eyes. “Some of the deals—fell through."

  He slammed the table again, and Amber jumped. “All the deals fell through according to what I read. As a matter of fact, you were selling land you didn't even own.” He looked at his sergeant. “That right, Jace?"

  "Yeah. Pretty slick plan, too. They'd purchase an option on a piece of land for sixty days, put up signs, make up their own brochures, hit the mark and get investment money for the so-called development. Once the checks cleared, they moved the money, took down the signs and split. They'd lay low for a while, then find another place and another mark."

  Morgan gripped Amber's chin and forced her to look at him. “Was that what you were doing when I met you at the rodeo? Laying low?"

  Her lack of response was an answer itself.

  "Did you piss off the wrong person this time? Is that what your problem is? Did they kill Wilcox as some kind of warning to you?"

  "That's my guess,” Jace put in.

  "But why here? Why did they expect you to show up in White Tail? Was their timing just a little off? Come on, Amber,” he pressed. “I want some answers right now."

  "I—I guess,” she stammered.

  "How in the holy hell did they even know you'd come here? Did you blab about us to someone? Is that it?"

  "Uh, Chief?"

  "What?” Morgan didn't take his hand away from Amber's chin, holding it like a vise.

  "I—uh—think if you read the rest of this, you'll understand. My friend was a real help here."

  "Why don't you just give me the short version?"

  "I'd rather you—uh—read this yourself."

  "Read it.” Morgan bit the words off, his eyes boring into Amber's.

  "Well, okay. Just don't shoot the messenger.” He shuffled through the papers. “There's big scuttlebutt going around that these two scammed Emilio Escalante and made off with half a mil of his money."

  Morgan's grip on Amber's chin tightened and she tried to draw away.

  "Please tell me you weren't stupid enough to pull a con on one of the biggest drug dealers on two continents. A man who kills people when television bores him. Not even you could be that dumb."

  She tried to tug his hand away from her face. Morgan could see real fear in her eyes now.

  "I—I didn't. Jared set it up. I had no idea who he was."

  "And now he wants his money back."

  She nodded.

  "But money is only part of it, Amber. You embarrassed el jefe. Nothing less than death satisfies his honor."

  He was surprised by the tears that formed in her eyes, then reminded himself what a good actress she was. Allison had been right. Allison! Oh, God. He'd made a mess out of that because of Amber. He felt sick to his soul, and in that moment he knew how people could kill so easily. He wanted to wring Amber's neck with his bare hands. Only his own personal code kept his emotions in check.

  "I didn't know. God, I never should have trusted that idiot. I swear, if you get me out of this, I'll clean up my act.” She dug the heel of her uninjured hand into her eyes. “I'd give him back his money if I thought it would get him off my back. He's chased me all over Texas."

  Morgan removed his hand and snapped his fingers. “The break-in."

  "W—What break-in?"

  "My house was broken into a few days ago. Escalante sure as hell dug up everything about you and sent his bloodhounds here. I'd guess to see if I'd maybe left a clue around as to where you were. Don't tell me you've been using your real name?"

  "Uh, Chief?"

  "What is it, Jace?"

  "That doesn't matter. Escalante's got enough contacts he could
have figured out who she was. And you're right, that break-in had to be part of it. But who would be dumb enough to break into the house of the chief of police?"

  Morgan finally removed his hand from Amber's chin and leaned back in his chair. He wanted to bite nails or chew steel. Or throttle Amber with his bare hands. Or kick himself in the ass with both feet. Shit, shit, shit!

  "Where's the money?"

  "I-In an offshore account. But I can't get it."

  "Is that a fact?” Morgan leaned toward her again. “That's certainly a fish tale if I ever heard one."

  "No. No it isn't.” She shook her head vehemently. “We set it up, just like we always did, so it takes both of our signatures to get it out."

  "Well, hell. At least now I know what scared you so much you came running to me. You're damn lucky I didn't just kick your butt out when you showed up here."

  "I didn't have any place else to go and I didn't think they knew about you."

  Morgan snorted. “People like Escalante can find out anything. You can be damn sure they dumped Jared's body as a warning to you."

  "I wish I'd brought better news, Chief.” Jace stood up to leave. “What would you like me to do?"

  "Nothing, for the moment. Keep the body in cold storage and clamp a lid on all of this while I figure out what to do next."

  "Okay. I'll go on back to the station and see if anything else came in."

  After he left, Morgan just sat in his chair, staring at Amber. What a goat fuck this was. And all because he'd let this trashy blonde shake her tail at him. Damn!

  And Allison. The sick feeling rolled over him again. What was he going to do about her in all of this?

  "Morgan?” Amber's voice was tentative

  "What?” He barked the word at her.

  "What's going to happen to me now?"

  He raked his fingers through his hair. “Damned if I know."

  Chapter Eighteen

  Allison had not slept well. Derek's words about trust kept repeating in her brain. That was the one thing she hadn't given Morgan. She cringed remembering her anger at the party in San Antonio. She hadn't even given him a chance to explain. And while Amber was a lot to swallow, if she hadn't had her feathers so ruffled she might have been able to deal with it better. Morgan's personal “law” wouldn't let him turn his back on anyone, and she should have supported him.