The Lonesome Lawmen Trilogy

by Pauline Baird Jones

  * * * *

  It took Pep longer than he thought it would to find the wreckage of Donovan Kincaid’s plane. They’d made it further past their downed chopper then he’d expected. The strategy that Kincaid had used to elude and eliminate the danger was clever and not unexpected. Pep just hadn’t expected him to react so fast. His guard was down. It should have been easy. Pep wouldn’t under estimate him again.

  They circled the fallen, still smoldering plane with guns at ready. Kincaid wouldn’t be happy with them, but he wouldn’t know why he was being targeted. There was no reason he should know. Pep studied the map. Common sense said they’d head down, but Kincaid was a soldier. Would he seek the high ground or help for his passenger? Assuming they’d survived the crash. If she was on her own, she’d be looking for help and an easy target.

  He needed to examine the wreckage and they were running out of time. Help was also on the way. Luckily he had a good squad of six additional men.

  “Put us down in that clearing,” Pep directed their pilot. “Once we’re down, establish a perimeter around the plane, then work your way out in circles until you find some sign of survivors. We don’t have much time so work fast.”

  * * * *

  Donovan peered down at the chopper, its blade still whirling in slow circles. He eased back and looked at Debra, crouched beside him.

  “He’s doing just what I expected. He’s going for the plane to see if we survived. We don’t have much time. Are you sure you want to do this? If it doesn’t work—”

  “It’ll work. The pilot won’t expect trouble from me.” Debra sounded confidant, but her gaze was worried. She managed a smile that she meant to reassure, but ended up looking defiant.

  “Okay, just give me time to work my way closer. Say, five minutes?” She nodded. He turned to go, then stopped and leaned forward, pressing his lips softly against hers. Any longer and he’d wouldn’t be able to stop. “For luck.”

  Her smile was bright and real. “For luck.”

  * * * *

  The chopper landed in the clearing in front of the cabin, kicking up the dry dirt in a rising swirl. Even before the dust settled Luke, Matt and Jake had jumped down and ran to the cabin. It didn’t take more than a minute to realize their mom and Donovan weren’t there.

  Luke turned and scanned the hillside. “They could be making their way here and it just took longer than we thought.”

  “We should get airborne and see if we can spot them. If they were shot down, they may need help,” Matt said grimly.

  “If they were shot down, we may be outgunned,” Jake said, though he didn’t look worried.

  Luke grinned. “Let’s do it then.”

  They all checked their weapons and climbed aboard their chopper. With a rising roar it ascended into the air and headed up the mountainside, while around the high peaks, storm clouds began to gather.

  FIVE

  Debra looked at her watch, then at the gathering storm. It was time to move and it was also the typical time for afternoon showers to kick up a fuss. Great. She picked a great time to venture out of her safe zone. Part of her wanted to sit down and whine, but most of her was determined to get back and meet her grandchildren. She wanted to find out what Donovan meant by that kiss and the words “the last time I fell in love.” She wasn’t going to die here on this mountain.

  She started down the slope, keeping well to the rear of the chopper. She didn’t want to give the pilot time to radio the bad guys before she could get the drop on him. The descent wasn’t pleasant, fun or without its difficulties. The angle was steep. Her weekly sessions with the exer-cycle hadn’t been nearly as useful as she believed. The air up here was thin and reluctant to be pulled into her needy lungs. At least she wasn’t making an uphill approach.

  She took the slope mostly on her tush, trying for a controlled skid. She didn’t have to worry about being quiet with the blades still spinning. The bad guys probably didn’t plan on being gone long. With a last, tumbling slide she reached the clearing. Trying not to think what she must look like, she gave her self a couple of minutes to catch her breath, then, at a half crouch, worked her way around to the front of the chopper.

  “Thank goodness!” she yelled, startling the pilot. She noted that he half-reached for his gun, realized she was alone and relaxed. “Are you with search and rescue?”

  “Uh, yeah.”

  He looked past her, hoping for some back-up. There was back-up available, but not for him. Donovan loomed up from the brush behind him, moving with cat-like speed. One moment, the pilot was looking at her in surprise, the next he was slumped in his seat.

  Ouch. Debra looked around. So far, so good. She helped Donovan pull the man from his spot and into the brush. The efficiency with which Donovan striped off his olive drab jump suit, told Debra this wasn’t the first time he’d made this kind of a switch. In a few moments, Donovan was wearing the pilot’s gear, the cap pulled low over his face, sunglasses in place. The pilot was bound and gagged. Donovan took his gun and stowed it in his belt.

  Donovan adjusted the ear piece of the radio. “They’re heading back.” He pressed a button and said, “Roger that.” He released the switch. “Show time.” He pointed up the hillside. “Take your position up there and only…intervene if needed.”

  She started to move off and he stopped her, handing her his jacket.

  “You need to cover up that red.” He grinned, then jogged to the chopper and slid into the recently vacated seat.

  With a smile that felt odd under the circumstances, Debra slid on the jacket, enjoying the whiff of Donovan scent that enveloped her and tucked her weapon in the back of her slacks, feeling very unlike herself. Moving fast, but taking care, she worked her way up the hillside toward the large boulder Donovan had scouted out to provide both cover and good sight lines. She barely made it, puffing from the steep climb, when the bad guys flowed into the clearing.

  The two men from the airport were in the center of the small mass, their guns slung casually over their arms in almost identical positions, though mini-him was sort of a shadow of his older brother. His squad or thugs were fanned out, with one on point in front, two guys on each side of them and two bringing up the rear. The band of thugs were alert. Debra had the impression they were excited to be playing soldier. Either that or they were very good at what they did.

  They all had what looked like assault weapons, while she and Donovan had automatic pistols. It was possible she’d been a tad over confident.

  They didn’t seem to notice anything unusual about the pilot. With a gesture, the one Donovan said was Pep, directed his men to climb aboard. Pep went around and climbed in beside Donovan and gestured for them to lift off. The blades spun faster, increasing the noise level.

  Surely he wasn’t going to risk lifting off with those bozos? Debra half-moved, but what could she do? It was sweet of him to want to protect her, but it still pissed her off. They were a team. The chopper lifted about twenty to thirty feet in the air. Donovan turned the chopper, giving her a view inside the cargo section. The men had no clue their pilot was gone. The chopper spun in a circle, and the one called Pep came sailing out of the chopper, landing with a soundless thump in the clearing.

  He didn’t move. The chopper did. It rose higher and higher still. Then Donovan put it through some paces designed to cause his passengers maximum discomfort. Debra’s stomach lurched in remembered sympathy as the craft went through some looping, spinning turns. A few weapons dropped out the open doors.

  Down below, Pep still wasn’t moving. Not far from him, Debra saw his weapon. She eyed it for a moment then decided it was worth the risk. Just in case…

  She made her way down the hillside, stopping often to check Pep’s state of consciousness. It was possible he was dead or seriously injured. At the edge of the clearing, she looked up. Donovan was still giving the goons a ride. Pep still wasn’t moving, though close now, she could see the rise and fall of his chest.

  She edged closer.
Stopped. Then moved closer. Now they were both the same distance from the assault gun. Now she was near enough. She bent to grab it. It was that moment he chose to strike. In a flash, he was on his feet. Debra jumped back, kicking at the gun as she did. He sailed past her, so close she felt the brush of passing air and the tips of his fingers. He rolled, folding his body around the gun as he went, then continued until he was on his feet.

  What he wasn’t expecting was Debra to be ready for him. Steady as a rock, she pointed Donovan’s “piece” at him.

  “Yes, I do know how to use it,” she said. “My husband was a cop and so is one of my sons.”

  “And the others?” Pep asked, sounding hollow.

  “Deputy US Marshals.”

  “Oh.” Now he looked sick.

  “Toss that to one side, please?” She said it politely, because that’s the way she’d been raised, but her finger tightened on the trigger, just in case he mistook manners for weakness. Based on the paleness of his face, it looked like the gun wasn’t the only thing he needed to toss.

  Instead of tossing the gun, he dropped it.

  Debra shook her head. “Over there.”

  As he moved back, she moved toward the dropped weapon. He didn’t seem worried enough, which worried her. Maybe he thought Donovan might lose the battle of the skies?

  “Do you have it?” Pep asked, sinking onto a boulder with a sigh.

  Debra knew what he meant, but she wasn’t ready to play spill her guts. “Have what? Why are you after us?”

  “You’ve got something I need. That guy who bumped into you at the airport, he passed it to you and I expect you passed it to Kincaid. It was very smoothly done.”

  Debra faked “surprise.” “Nobody passed me anything. I’m on my way to Phoenix for a friend’s wedding.” He looked disbelieving. “I’m a grandmother, not an officer of the law.”

  “And you just happened to know Kincaid?” Pep gave her a skeptical look.

  “He’s my son’s father-in-law. He has business in Phoenix and offered me a ride.”

  For the first time, doubt shadowed his dirty, but still attractive face. “You have to have it. You’re the only person he touched. I was watching him.”

  “That’s why you had us shot down? Because we might have this thing you need?” Debra arched her brows. “Well, that’s lame. You’re not a very good crook, are you?”

  A look of annoyance flashed across his face. And a frisson of warning flashed through her. Her hands tightened on the gun.

  “Take off your clothes,” she said.

  He stared at her. “What?”

  “Take your clothes off. Strip down to your skivs.”

  “Skivs?”

  “Your underwear,” she said impatiently.

  “I know what skivs are. I was just surprised you do, too.”

  “I have three sons.” She wagged the barrel at him. “Now take off your clothes. Slowly. One thing at a time.” she pointed down. “Start with your shoes.” He bent down. “One hand. Just use one. I want to see the other one raised over your head.”

  For a moment, it didn’t seem like he could handle the complexity of the order, but eventually he managed to get one hand sort of raised while the other fiddled with his laces. Shoes off, he looked at her sadly.

  “Toss them toward me. Good. Now the pants.” Man, she really hoped he wasn’t wearing the male equivalent of a thong. Did they have them? In her time it was briefs or boxers. Hopefully he was wearing boxers. “One hand. Use the opposite hand for each side.”

  If he did have a concealed back-up piece, she wanted to make it as hard for him as possible.

  He was wearing boxers, thank goodness. Debra sighed. “Toss them over, too.”

  Almost sheepishly he stood up to toss the pants her way. He had a gun strapped to one leg, a knife to the other.

  “How do you get through airport security?” Debra asked.

  * * * *

  Donovan had made sure he was safely strapped in before putting the chopper through the kind of paces guaranteed to make even the strongest stomach hurl its contents. When the groans turned into the sounds of vomiting Donovan eased up, though he kept the chopper moving choppily.

  “Throw all your weapons out the side,” he said over the intercom system. “Or I’ll start it up again.”

  He heard more groans then came the clatter of weaponry going out the door. Donovan had no way to make sure they’d all complied, but he was uneasy about leaving Debra alone so long with Pep and the wilderness. He turned the chopper back the way they’d come, still keeping the bird bouncing through the air as much as possible.

  There was only a whisper of advance warning for him to react before he sensed danger. He leaned forward, and thrust back with his elbow. Heard air escaping from lungs, but the guy was only winded, not out. And he must know how to fly if he was willing to off the pilot. Or he was butt stupid.

  Donovan put the chopper into a steep climb, dumping the guy backward. When he was high enough, he did a loop that turned the chopper upside down. It wasn’t his imagination that a body tumbled head over heels toward the tree covered hillside below. Even as he started another loop, he felt something hard ram into his side.

  “I’m betting I can dump you and control this chopper before it crashes,” someone yelled in his ear “Now put it down!”

  Donovan hesitated, but then nodded. He had to hope that Debra could turn the tables back his direction, before they killed him. He evened the flight out and turned toward the clearing. An odd sight awaited them.

  Pep stood in the clearing, stripped down to his boxers, his hands on clasped behind his head. There was no sign of his clothes, his weapon or Debra.

  “What the hell?” the man behind him said.

  The moment of distraction was all Donovan needed. He dropped the chopper down with a thump that sent the man toward the roof, then slammed him back down again. Donovan wasn’t sure which thump took out his lights. It didn’t really matter. He grabbed his gun, shut off the engine and quickly got free of the straps that had kept him in place.

  “Everyone out, hands over heads!” He did a quick look around the side. After a pause, the men began to scramble down and staggered over to Pep. Most dropped to their knees, barely managing to get their hands behind their heads. There was the definite reek of puke in the air. He started to climb out, too

  “You got one more skunk in the hole!” Debra called. Her direction was hard to pinpoint as her voice echoed around the small valley.

  Maybe the guy wanted to die. Donovan readied his gun. “Come on out. We’ve got you covered.”

  A slow, shuffling movement ensued then Pup dragged his sorry ass to the edge and out. Only then did Donovan jump out. He studied Pep, noting the straps—now empty of weaponry—on his legs. That explained the stripping. Damn, she was clever.

  “Okay, let’s take off those clothes and see what’s hiding underneath.”

  Donovan lifted the barrel of his gun suggestively and they all complied. Over their shoulders, Debra peeked out from behind a boulder and gave him a sassy thumbs up. Dirty and bedraggled, she was the most beautiful thing he’d seen in a good, long time.

  As his bird went silent, Donovan heard another chopper approaching. He grabbed the radio and played with the frequencies until he got a response, all while keeping a wary eye on the disrobing ceremony.

  “Donovan?” His son-in-law’s voice was unmistakable.

  “Your mom is fine,” Donovan said, before Luke could ask as he watched her scramble down and, giving the bad guys a wide berth, trotted over to join him. He would have given anything to see their faces at the sight of their mother carrying an assault rifle at the ready. “I’m fine, too, in case you were wondering. And this wasn’t my fault.”

  Luke gave a chuckle that broke in the middle, the sound almost drowned out by their arrival.

  “Who the hell are those guys?” Luke asked him. “And why are they almost naked?”

  His eyes on Debra, Donovan said,
“You’ll have to ask your mom that question. She’s the one who made them strip.”

  SIX

  Carrying an assault weapon, however briefly, changed one inside and out, Debra decided. It was like putting on cowboy boots. She always walked differently in boots and had to resist the urge to boot scoot. It had changed her sons, too. She’d never forget the looks on their faces when they came to her rescue. Even Bryn had broken out in expression when Debra handed her the jump drive. Pep had just looked resigned. And betrayed. She guessed he hadn’t expected a grandmother to lie to him.

  Her boys had wanted to blame Donovan, but couldn’t, so they tried to whisk her off to the hospital. Instead, Donovan whisked her off to Phoenix. He’d looked at his watch and said, “We can still make that wedding.”

  In short order, their bags were retrieved, a quick trip back to the airport, wives and daughters reassured, and then Donovan was flying them south in a borrowed plane.

  “Brave friend, to let you borrow their plane,” Debra had pointed out.

  Donovan’s smile took her breath away. Something between them had changed, too. They didn’t talk about it. Debra didn’t mind. Despite recent events, she wasn’t some young, impatient thing leaping into the unknown.

  She looked at herself in the hotel suite mirror. There were still laugh lines, a lot of them, around her eyes and mouth. Her hair hadn’t turned brown again and she was sporting some bruises and cuts, but she looked sassy anyway. The red dress helped. Simple in its line, it used color for drama. She was also glad she’d gone with the painfully high heels. Her feet would hate her in a few minutes, but they made her legs almost look a sleek as they’d looked thirty years ago.

  For a moment, she let herself remember John, the past, and the young people they’d been. She wasn’t that person anymore and that was how it should be. People had to move forward, to change and allow others to change. Life was meant to flow toward its inevitable end. She was glad hers hadn’t ended just yet though. There were still things she could learn, things she could teach, feelings left to explore.