The Lonesome Lawmen Trilogy

by Pauline Baird Jones

  Debra smiled a welcome and shifted to give him more room. The bench gave as it took the added weight. Up close, he smelled good. She inhaled, pulling in his scent and that of her yard and the cooking food. Almost imperceptibly, she relaxed inside. She felt different when he showed up. Even an old broad like her felt a bit sexy and almost dangerous.

  With the sun at a different angle, she met his watchful, gray gaze and found it, as always, surface friendly, but carefully shuttered against deep penetration. If he ever opened his gaze, what would it reveal? Amelia was probably the only person he allowed in and Debra had a feeling he even put limits on what she could see.

  He relaxed back into the cushions with a sigh of relief, his sardonic gaze on the scene by the table. “For such bright boys...” He didn’t finish the sentence, just shook his head and slanted her a look that was almost boyish in its mischief.

  “You could just stop tweaking them,” Debra pointed out.

  “I could,” he admitted. His date tossed her platinum blonde hair and almost tossed her breasts out of her skimpy top. “But it wouldn’t be as much fun.”

  The expectant women looked amused, despite the bimbo’s emaciation, so Debra didn’t feel a need to intervene. The boys could take care of themselves, as they pointed out with annoying regularity.

  “I suppose not.” Debra turned to smile at him and caught him studying her, not his date, with a look in his gray eyes that was oddly unsettling.

  “Amelia says you wanted to go to Phoenix next weekend?” Unlike his eyes, Donovan’s voice was drowsy and relaxed.

  Debra arched her brows. “I have a friend there who is remarrying, but the flights were all booked up. I took too long to decide to go.”

  “I’m flying there to do some business next Thursday. You’re welcome to ride along. I’ve even got the company suite at my disposal. Two rooms,” he added, as if she might think he was making her an improper suggestion.

  “That’s very kind, but I’d need to stay at least through Sunday night,” Debra said, feeling practicality trying to stamp out hope. She longed to see her friend, who saw her as a real person, not just a role, but she’d been worried about leaving so close to her daughters-in-law delivery dates. Theresa always managed to cheer her up. It was one of those friendships that endured separation and picked up as if there’d been none. And she’d love to meet the man who lured Theresa out of her determinedly single state.

  “Not a problem. I’m sure there’s plenty of tourist crap for me to see. I hear they have cactus.”

  He grinned as he stretched out his long, lean legs and hooked his hands behind his head. He had cowboy boots on his feet, but they didn’t look out of place. They were a part of who he was. His jeans looked worn and comfortable. His soft blue tee shirt added that tint to the gray of his eyes, stealing some of the cool from their depths. He wore his brown hair slightly longer than her boys and she wondered if it was soft or crisp in texture.

  Whoa. She gave herself an internal shake to refocus her thoughts in a less dangerous direction. She managed to chuckle. “Well, if that gets old, I am allowed to bring a guest.” Her gaze swept his sinewy length. “You’d cause quite a stir, I expect. Plenty of entertainment value.”

  And he wouldn’t look too shabby on her arm, she had to admit, trying not to hope he’d agree. Pride was something she should be trying to stamp out, not blatantly encourage, even if it would be fun. There was one guest she wouldn’t mind one-upping. She, Theresa, and Diane had all been young mothers together. Theresa’s husband had left her for another woman. Diane had left her husband for a younger man. Debra didn’t know why Diane had stayed in touch with her or Theresa, except for the one-upmanship factor. When Theresa had called to invite her, she’d mentioned Diane would be there, with a sigh and the caveat to “wait until you see the new husband.” Donovan would be a wonderful antidote to Diane’s feigned pity.

  The antidote chuckled, the sound oddly infectious. “How could I resist that offer? I’ll throw a suit in my suitcase.”

  He almost sounded pleased, but that was silly. And if she were inclined to lose her perspective, she only had to look at the bimbo looking in such horror at the plate of meat. Did he know she was a vegetarian before he brought her? She looked at Donovan who looked both resigned and amused.

  There was warmth and charm in his eyes that she hadn’t seen before. It spoke to the young girl hiding inside her old broad body. Before she could stop them, her toes curled into the grass. Luckily it hadn’t been cut yet this week, keeping her toes out of sight. She drew a shaky breath and managed to get out a strangled thank you.

  “I’ll pick you up early Thursday then?”

  “Sure.” She’d have to get a new dress. The one she’d been planning to wear was frump city. For a moment she felt fear, but before she could act on it, she realized that the hollow feeling was gone. It might not last. Hollow would likely return. She knew Donovan wasn’t interested in her, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy her small adventure. She lifted her chin and let her young smile out of the barn. It had been there far too long and should have been lame, but it didn’t feel lame at all. It felt good. If it seemed that his eyes warmed even more, well, she’d always had a good imagination.

  A rising babble of talk and activity across the lawn broke into their moment. Donovan sighed. “Looks like they’re ready to eat. Once more into the fray…that is one hormone intense zone.”

  He got up and held out a hand for her. Debra took it, liking the way it felt to have a man’s strong fingers close around hers, even if were just a moment. Once upright, she leaned close to him and admitted in a low voice, “I’m so sick of pregnant talk.”

  “I thought it was just me.”

  As they drew close to the table, Debra heard Donovan’s bimbo say, “My mom says when she had me that her labor lasted three days.”

  Debra choked and looked at Donovan. He gave her a wide-eyed look, with humor lurking beneath the horror in their depths. Apparently he didn’t know pregnancy talk was infectious, even to bimbos.

  TWO

  Debra waited with Donovan as the driver unloaded their bags from the back of the long, dark limousine that had made her nosy neighbor’s eyes about pop out of the sockets when it stopped in front of her house. Then Donovan had upped the pop factor by emerging from the rear looking sexy and dangerous. It was a good thing she was past all that hormone stuff, she decided as she noted his typical jeans fitted snuggly to an ass that was still admirably tight. She gave a mournful sigh for the lack of firm in her own tush.

  She’d unglued her gaze from his nice rear end and noted that a white shirt and sport jacket completed his ensemble. The white against his neck brought out his tan. Thankfully, he didn’t look baked, just nicely warmed. All in all, it was a casual look, but his clothes were clearly expensive and fit him well. When he bent to grab her suitcase in her living room and the jacket swung open, she’d been startled by a glimpse of his gun in its holster.

  “You expecting trouble?” Debra had asked.

  Donovan had looked surprised, until she indicated the weapon. “My clients expect me to be armed and to tell you the truth, I forget it’s there until I need it. If it bothers you, I can stow it in my bag.”

  Debra had arched her brows and gave him a look.

  He’d laughed. “I guess you are kind of used to guns by now, aren’t you?”

  With two Deputy US Marshals and a police detective in the family? “I better be.”

  He’d helped her in the back, while the driver stowed her bags. The ride to the airport had been fun. With each mile, she felt younger and lighter. She felt like Debra, not mom or grandma or any of the other labels that had been plastered on over the essential her through the years.

  If Donovan considered this a pity date, there was no sign of it on his face or in his actions. He was witty, charming and much more relaxed than she’d ever seen him. It was probably exhausting to keep up with his bimbos. When he referenced a point in history, at leas
t Debra had been born then and remembered it, too. It was nice not to have the whole sex thing in the mix. They could relax with each other and just have a nice time. When he helped her out of the car, his touch sent a tiny thrill up her arm to prick her heart with remembrance of the “sex thing.” Okay, so maybe there was a little attraction in the mix, but just enough to make it fun.

  Even the air outside the airport shimmered with anticipation. The wind whipped by, as if to speed them on their journey. Overhead, a small jet roared its way skyward. She leaned back, shielding her gaze against the rising sun and followed it out of sight.

  It was probably why she didn’t see the guy, just felt the blow as he bumped into her. He might have knocked her off her feet, if he hadn’t also grabbed her elbows. Her startled gaze met his for an odd and intense moment before he spun her out of his way and hurried off toward another hanger.

  The hit-and-walk happened so quickly, Donovan didn’t see it, as he bent to grasp the handle of his bag. She started to say something, but then just sighed. She wasn’t hurt, not really. The driver lifted out her bag and set it at his feet.

  “I can pull mine,” she said. “It has wheels and a handle.”

  “I’ve got it,” Donovan said. With the bags arranged so he could manage them, he looked at her. His gaze narrowed. “Are you all right?”

  Ruffled around the edges, but peaceful on the inside, Debra nodded. “I’m great.”

  As they headed in the direction of the hanger that housed Donovan’s plane, she looked back. The guy was gone, perhaps into a building or vehicle. Their limo pulled away, revealing two men, looking around with angry expressions. One of them met her gaze for a long moment. His eyes were an amazingly vibrant green, she noted before he turned to scan the area. Something about them sent a small shiver of worry down her spine, particularly when he eased back into the shadows of a nearby hanger.

  It was all very odd, but none of her business. She was glad to turn away, hurrying to catch up with Donovan. Let the vacation begin. Heaven knows she needed it before the multiple deliveries of grandchildren began.

  * * * *

  “It’s not on him, I tell you.” Pep held the cell phone a few inches from his ear as his employer vented his frustration. Pep wasn’t happy about it either, but he didn’t take it personally. He was hired muscle, which gave him distance and perspective. He liked having both. He was less likely to get an ulcer. For his employer, Warren Michaels, finding the item was the difference between freedom and incarceration. And it was his brother-in-law who took it. Under the circumstances, perspective wasn’t possible.

  And to up the ante, Michaels would have to explain to his sister why she was a widow. Pep had met the sister. She made Hilary Clinton look warm and fuzzy. He didn’t blame hubby for taking a powder or for his Michaels’ dread. Pep looked down at the still figure at his feet. Hubby’s worries were over. A pity the mess he’d created wasn’t. As long as the item was out there somewhere, they all had a problem.

  Pep realized the phone had gone quiet and cautiously returned it to his ear.

  “He must have handed it off already. Or hidden it somewhere along his route. Did he talk to anyone? Stop anywhere?” Anger and frustration heavily laced his Michaels’ normally cool diction.

  “No, sir.” Pep rubbed his face and looked at his brother. His given name was Norman, but everyone called him Pup, because he was a smaller version of Pep. Same dark hair, same green eyes, same great face. Alone they weren’t bad-looking, but together, their handsome visages increased their ability to acquire female attention. Unfortunately, this situation didn’t require that ability, it required brain power. Pep had a policy of strict honesty with himself. He knew he wasn’t that gifted in that particular area. It didn’t matter because he did have more than his fair share of cunning. “He didn’t talk to anyone—”

  “He bumped into that broad,” Pup said.

  Pup was like that. Pep thought he wasn’t even paying attention and he’d pop out with something almost useful. Most of the time he really wasn’t paying attention and had nothing to contribute, but at least he didn’t chatter. Pep couldn’t work with a chatterer. It was hard enough for him to think when things were quiet.

  Hmmm. Pup was right. Hubby had bumped into that woman. She’d been with a guy, who’d seemed sort of familiar. That’s why Pep had ducked back out of sight. Their world wasn’t that big. And it was always better to see, not be seen—particularly in the general vicinity of a murder.

  “We may have a lead, sir,” Pep said. “I’ll be in touch.” He ended the call before the yelling could start again, or the questions. His mind didn’t function well when questions were hurled at him. He needed to coax out the things he knew. He tried not to think of the man and sure enough, his face emerged from the debris inside Pep’s head. A few more moments of pushing it away and name followed.

  Donovan Kincaid.

  If that was a pass-off, it was a mighty smooth one, but that was Kincaid’s rep. Cool, smooth and dangerous. He looked at his brother. “Did you see where they were going?”

  As he asked the question, a small, sassy plane soared over their heads before turning south.

  “Up?” Pup said.

  * * * *

  “What do you think?” Donovan’s voice was tinny through the head phones, but still attractive.

  “It’s fabulous!” Debra pulled her gaze from the view outside to flash Donovan a smile. How come she never knew how much she loved to fly? Probably because flying in an airliner was nothing like this. When she got home, she was going to check into flying lessons. Though maybe she’d wait to tell her boys. She had a feeling they hadn’t planned on a flying grandma for their kids.

  The trouble with kids, parents weren’t real to them. Debra knew this, because she’d been the same way about her parents. It was only when she became a parent that she realized her parents had been young and had lives and feelings she knew nothing about. Most of the time she could be philosophical about it, but it was hard when she had no one to be real with. A longing for John stabbed through her joy at being airborne, but before it could take root, something thudded into the small craft. Actually, several somethings.

  Donovan cursed and turned the plane into a spinning dive.

  “What is it?”

  “Someone’s shooting at us,” he said.

  Debra heard the words, but they didn’t seem real. It wasn’t possible. Things like this happened in the movies, or maybe in her sons’ lives, but not hers. She was a grandma for Pete’s sake.

  She clutched the sides of her seat as the plane spun down, catching a brief glimpse of the helicopter pursuing them. It looked military. Sort of, but not quite right. Smoke trails spat from guns on each side of it, spurting past them as they spun down. The ground rushed toward them. They were going to crash. Donovan pulled back hard and the plane leveled out. It skimmed along the tree tops, dodging their pursuers as much as possible. The engines whined in protest. Debra wanted to whine, too. She was thrown against the straps across her chest. Slammed against the seat back. Then jostled from side to side. Bullets thudded into the body of the plane at irregular intervals.

  Her stomach was having trouble keeping up. Maybe she wouldn’t learn to fly after all. Maybe she’d be dead. Wouldn’t get to see or know her new grandchildren. This trip was stupid, reckless. Those babies were what mattered not a break from her family.

  The tiny plane bounced across tree tops, then rose to follow the line of a mountain. Beneath the sheer terror was a fervent gladness she’d missed breakfast or it would be all over the windscreen right now.

  It felt like they were in a fight they had to lose, but she became aware of a sense of purpose from Donovan. Some of her fear eased. He wasn’t giving up and she wouldn’t either. She had grandchildren to meet and spoil.

  She looked out, trying to figure out where they were, but the scenery rushing by made her dizzy and sick. One thing was clear. Everything out there was way too close for comfort.

&n
bsp; Debra felt questions crowding into her head, but kept her mouth closed. This was not a good time to distract Donovan and if she opened her mouth, more than questions might come out. She focused her attention on the plane’s controls directly in front of her and her stomach angst lessened.

  Donovan banked the plane, taking it down into a small valley. For a moment, Debra saw the helicopter and then she couldn’t. The sides of the valley pressed in close. Debra looked ahead. The small valley seemed full of turns and twists, giving them some cover from the helicopter.

  “Hang on,” Donovan said, his voice both cool and grim.

  Debra found his tone oddly reassuring, considering. She didn’t waste time pointing out she was already hanging on.

  The plane hooked around a corner and then he pulled up the nose of the plane. It felt like they clawed through the air. They needed to, to miss the wall of solid rock in front of them.

  Debra didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath, until they cleared the cliff and she expelled it in a rush. Below them, there was an explosion. Debra looked back and down to see black smoke billow up from the edge of the cliff.

  Eyes wide, Debra looked at Donovan. “Holy cow.”

  “And some unholy ones,” Donovan said. “I wonder what that was about? As far as I know, I haven’t pissed anyone off recently.” He rubbed his face. “I’m sure sorry, Debra.”

  “Stuff happens. At least we’re all right—”

  The engine sputtered, evened out, then sputtered again. This time it didn’t even out. It quit completely. In the sudden silence, Donovan said, “That’s not good.”

  THREE

  Luke ducked under the police tape and entered the building, making his way through the confusion to the reason behind it. His partner, Mannfred Gage was already there, looking around with his usual good cheer.