The other man took a step back at the vehemence in his tone, stumbling into the chair behind him and taking an unceremonious seat. His hands were still up. “Now, Mackenzie, I know—”
“You know nothing,” he spat, turning on his heel. Ange came out of the kitchen in a way that indicated she was ready to rumble if he was. “All that vacation time you’ve been on me to take? I’m gone, effective immediately. Ange is coming with me.”
“I…don’t understand.” The look on Grambling’s face would have been comical in any other situation, now it was just infuriating.
“What’s to understand?” He looked to Ange, who nodded in comprehension, and could see Cassie peeking over her shoulder from the kitchen. To her, he inclined his head toward the door through which they’d entered. “We’re leaving.”
Grambling was up with wild eyes and scrambling around the couch. “You…you can’t! I have to—”
When the younger man reached for him, Mack could feel all his muscles tightening for a fight. “It’s no longer your choice. You made a promise on my behalf without my permission. A promise I intend to keep, regardless of your feelings about it. Since she’s officially not in WITSEC, she’s free to do as she pleases, and she will be coming with me.” His slow grin dared his superior to disagree with him.
Ange was already hustling Cassie toward the door when one of the Bulletheads stepped in front of them. “I don’t want to go through you, but I will.” Her silky voice in combination with her slight step back into a defensive position was all the warning the man was going to get before she used his teeth to open a fresh can of WhoopAss. He’d seen bigger men try her and fail, usually ending in humiliated and bloodied heaps at the toes of her expensive shoes.
“I wouldn’t test her.” Mack sauntered over to her side and looked over his shoulder at Grambling, who merely growled into his coffee mug and dismissed them with a wave. The giant boulder in the Marshal jacket moved aside with a grunt, and out they walked into the night.
Ange slid behind the wheel as Mack and Cassie resumed their positions in the back seat. “So, where to?”
Mack looked from her to Cassie, who looked as strung out as a crackhead on a three day bender. “My place. I need to change clothes, pick up my truck, and make a couple phone calls.”
Tires squealing as they streaked off into the night, Ange turned on the radio. “Case de Jefferson, it is, then.”
* * *
Austin Grambling had not gotten this far in life without three things: brains, adaptability, and help. And it was those three things that were going to get him out of this situation now, if he could just slow down and think. With Cassie gone, and able to ID the killer, it posed a great deal of concern to his benefactor, and he was not a man who would be pleased with failure.
That was why he’d been chosen for this unpleasantness. Clint Buckholt’s death was supposed to be a quick affair, the result of unpaid and growing gambling debts, and Cassie’s protection—with her being under his control, and the subsequent rooting out of the killer, was supposed to be his fast-track ticket to an office in DC. Now he was stuck, in the desert, with no witness, and two of the finest law enforcement officers off on what was sure to be a hunt to find the killer to keep Cassie safe.
Mack Jefferson was the key. Austin could see the protective streak that had served him so well on the job now encompassed Cassie. Where he went, she was sure to be with him, and it would be just like she was still officially in his grasp. If he could keep track of Jefferson’s movements, contacts, then he could stay one step ahead of him and hopefully plant enough breadcrumbs to lead them to the appropriate outcome. The one where he doesn’t go to jail for conspiracy to commit murder, among many, many other things.
Austin had chosen him for this assignment for a couple reasons, his integrity being one. Knowing he would faithfully guard Cassie without question or complaint was a damn good thing when he was playing a game with so many moving pieces. The other reason…well, that was a moot point, now.
The problem was Jefferson was very much his own man. Coming to the Marshal Service after several years on the Phoenix PD, he’d arrived with exceptional recommendations. Still, whispers of discontent followed him, snippets of gossip about an officer’s death and a cover-up. That would be where he’d start, learning everything about his prey before he could mount a proper hunt.
“What do we do now?” Chambers, the goon at the front door, inquired. He was very lucky Gonsalvez was in a forgiving mood, or that encounter would have been very difficult to explain to the housekeepers.
“I need anything and everything you can find about Mackenzie Jefferson. All of it.” When his flunky only looked at him with ill-disguised bemusement, he slammed his empty mug on the table, breaking the ceramic handle. “Now, dammit!”
* * *
Cassie had never been so glad to come to a stop in her whole life. Ange’s driving was like the never-ending rollercoaster ride from hell. All she could do was hold onto the handle above the window and pray. She thought about reaching out and holding Mack’s hand again, but that seemed both childish and possibly more dangerous than the car ride with the dark look on his face that had yet to abate.
Listening to and later watching the potential brawl in the living room of the safe house had her holding her breath the whole time. She knew at some point tempers would be lost, fists thrown, and furniture demolished. Somehow she just didn’t think Chief Grambling would be the one to come out on top unless he managed to enlist the aid of his brute squad. If she’d needed convincing that Mack was dangerous, she had it now in spades.
His condo was cute, though. A two-story stucco, the overwhelming presence of which reminded her a great deal of her hometown, with a two car garage and a gravel front yard with a saguaro growing in the middle of it. Everything about it screamed ‘ordinary’ in the most appealing way. The garage door came up after he entered the code, and parked in the middle of the two car space was a massive black truck with streaks of dried mud on the tailgate.
His partner helped her collect her hastily gathered things from the back of her car and transfer them to the truck before everyone went inside. Ange went straight to the fridge and pulled out two beers while she took a seat at the breakfast bar in the middle of the kitchen. “Here,” she murmured as she pressed an open sweating bottle of beer into Cassie’s hands.
“Thanks.” It was a local IPA, and not bad, really, though Cassie generally preferred Bordeaux to Budweiser. Sipping the beer, she toured the surprisingly well-stocked kitchen and adjoining dining room. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but this was not like her old boyfriend’s apartment in college. That was all eclectic pieces and thrift store finds, this was all matching and coordinated. It was incongruously elegant, which was not how she saw Mack at all.
He wandered down the stairs then, conjured from her thoughts, shrugging into a faded blue button up with one hand while toting a hefty-looking duffle bag in the other. Though it was difficult to tell in the recessed light of the ceiling, it appeared for a second that his left arm was covered in tattoos, and he’d exchanged his shoes for well-worn cowboy boots. “So it looks like we’re all set.”
Ange set her half-empty bottle on the counter next to her and leaned back with her arms crossed. Damn, but she cut an imposing figure against the granite center island. “How’s this gonna play, Mackenzie?”
He dropped his bag at the entrance of the kitchen and dipped into the fridge for a beer of his own. “Well, I’m gonna take Cassie up to Jefferson Peak while we figure out what the hell is going on.”
“Up the mountain? Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
He looked between them, taking a moment to stare a hole in the ceiling before he answered. “I figure we have at least a month before they get home and I have to explain anything. Conchita’s on board and expecting us.”
She looked like she wanted to protest more, but decided against it at the last minute. “Okay, you need me to come with?” She picked
up her bottle and took a sip before dangling it from between her fingers next to her side.
He shook his head and killed his beer. “I need you to head back to Vegas and meet up with Eli. He’s politely and professionally inserted himself into the case. I need you two to hunt this guy down.” Meeting Cassie’s curious gaze over her barely touched beer, he amended, “Quickly.”
“I can do that,” his partner answered without hesitation. Cassie was jealous of her calm under pressure and her self-assuredness, two traits that had always managed to elude her, regardless of her fame. “Grambling?”
He finished his beer and opened a cabinet to toss his bottle into a recycling bin. “Out of the picture. You and I are off the radar as far as he’s concerned. I switched to the other phone, to keep it that way.”
Ange hummed and tossed her bottle in after his. “He’s got an agenda. He’ll know we’re not ‘on vacation’.” She pulled out her phone and tapped on the screen.
Mack sniffed and rolled his shoulders. “And I don’t care. While I’m gone, I’ll prep a formal complaint to be filed with his boss about the way he handled this. His agenda doesn’t concern us, but she,” he tilted his chin at Cassie, “is not going to be a casualty in his scramble to the top of the pile. I won’t allow it.”
Ange looked over her shoulder at Cassie and gave her an enigmatic grin. “Then we’re all set.” Grabbing her keys from the counter, she hugged her partner and started out the door.
“Wait!” Cassie hollered, feeling like she’d just discovered her voice. Both Marshals looked at her expectantly. “Don’t I get a say about any of this?”
“Nope,” they answered simultaneously as Ange skated out the door to the garage and Mack turned off all the lights in the house.
* * *
As soon as Mack opened the door to the outside, Ange stepped into the pool of light from the old wrought iron lanterns that flanked the garage doors. The porch lights from down the street gave their tiny areas a desolate glow that died quickly away from the source, swallowed up by the night. Her headlights flashed as she unlocked her car before coming over to Cassie’s side. He didn’t know what was said between them, but it ended in a hug and his partner leaving with a wave. He knew she was on her way back to Vegas tonight and would be up Eli’s ass in the A.M. Mack kind of wished he would be there to see it.
Once he’d checked on Cassie’s stuff in the back seat of his truck and tossed in his own gear, he held the passenger door open for her. “You ready to go?”
“No.”
Her simple answer confounded him. She didn’t look particularly distressed or confused, just leaned against the rear fender with her arms crossed and looked at him. “Okay? You gotta pee or something?”
She shook her head. “No, I just need you to explain to me what the hell we’re doing and where the hell we’re going and what the hell is going on.” The corners of her mouth twitched into a grin. “Nothing major.”
Mack opened his mouth a couple times, but couldn’t get his tongue on board to form words. He was working without a net, stepping completely out of the framework of his job, for reasons that still didn’t make sense to him, but knew he had to proceed. The problem was, he wasn’t quite sure how to bring Cassie, no longer his professional charge, around to his way of thinking. He finally settled on, “I’ll explain on the way. Come on.”
“No.” Her expression didn’t change, at least from what he could tell from the shadows of the garage. Cassie’s eyes were serious, and her cute little mouth was set in a mulish line.
“What do you mean, ‘no’? Was the whole ‘in danger of a slow and painful death’ thing unclear to you?” Dammit, that was not what he’d meant to say, but Jesus, they needed to get going before someone figured out what he was up to.
She shook her head, loose strands from her braids shimmering around her face in the faint light. “Not at all, but I do get to know what’s going on as far as I’m concerned. You said it yourself, I’m a free woman, and I’m not agreeing to anything until you tell me what the hell is going on. What is Jefferson Peak? Where is it? How long are we going to be there? These are not hard questions, Inspector Jefferson. I have a right to know what’s going on in my life.”
She sounded so damn reasonable, he fumed, and while normally he wouldn’t have to have this conversation with a witness, these were definitely circumstances outside his normal box. “First of all, call me Mack. Second, I promise I will tell you everything in the truck. I mean it. We just need to get going before someone figures out where we are and where we’re going. I’ll even buy you breakfast.” Normally, he didn’t have to resort to shameless bribery except with his nieces, but he wasn’t too proud to admit—to himself—desperation.
Her eyes narrowed in open suspicion. “Breakfast, huh?”
Mack shrugged and sighed. “It’s all I got on short notice. I might even be able to guarantee it’s hot.”
“And you swear you’ll tell me?”
It was difficult to take a woman in little girl hair braids seriously, but considering the alternatives, he nodded. “Okay. Do I gotta give you a pinkie or something?”
She wrinkled her nose, in addition to narrowing her eyes to tiny slits as she climbed into the passenger seat. “Only if you don’t want it back.”
He snorted in laughter as he closed the door and walked around the truck to climb inside. “Are you always this cranky when you’re sleep deprived?”
* * *
Cassie watched the night pass by the window, doing her best to relax. Not that Inspector Jefferson—Mack was making it easier. He explained he was taking her to the safest place he knew and she was in real danger, and he calmly told her he didn’t know how long it would take to catch the guy, but where they were going could keep them indefinitely. He seemed confident, though, that it wouldn’t take too long.
“Ange is a beast,” he said with a laugh. “Don’t let the sexy walk fool you. She is easily more dangerous than any predator out there.” His assessment of his partner’s prowess was surprisingly comforting.
About an hour into the drive, she found herself drifting off to sleep, unmindful of the cold glass against her scalp or the classic rock playing softly on the radio. She murmured along with the lyrics as her mind wrapped itself in her primary comfort, music.
“Did you say something?” he asked as he turned the radio down further. She didn’t have to see him to know he looked concerned.
“No. Sleeping.”
Her answer seemed to appease him since he turned the music back up slightly and continued driving. The next thing she knew, he was shaking her lightly by the arm to rouse her. The sky was indigo, the shade it washed as the sun decided to get out of bed with streaks of pink and orange saturating the clouds.
“What’d I miss? Are we doing breakfast yet?”
Mack grinned slightly and shook his head. “Almost. I just thought you might appreciate the sunrise.”
It was an unusually kind, insightful gesture from a man she barely knew, who barely knew her. “Thank you,” she murmured as she took in the sights. Stretching in the seat, she looked out at the landscape. The gorgeous desert traveled out in every direction as far as the eye could see, low tufts of bur sage, creosote, and cactus, the occasional critter scurrying between stripes of shortening shade. They were off the paved road, and probably had been for a while if the prevalence of local plant-life and bumpy ride were any indication. “I love the desert. It’s like my soul feels whole here.”
“Me, too.”
The stress and grief of the last twenty-four hours took a brief respite as she oriented herself to the land and their place in it. For a moment she had peace, and she was beyond grateful.
They were on an angle, almost like they were driving into the blushing sky from the pallor of the desert floor. Halfway up the mountain, a strange sight caught her eye, not a natural formation of rock exactly. She wasn’t quite sure what the hell she was looking at until the road leveled out and became somewhat paved
once more.
“Where in the hell are we?” she asked as they drove through a massive gate in a fence marked ‘Electrified’. The driveway was long and straight, lined with straggly fingers of ocotillo cacti and bleached white bricks, leading up to a house. A massive, sprawling spread that was part Tuscan villa and part Spanish mission, with liberal touches of Pueblo thrown in, two stories tall, at least three wings she could see, with an obscenely large and baroque fountain in the middle of the driveway that formed a circle which somehow didn’t look out of place at all.
Mack parked the truck on the circle, foregoing the collection of garage bays, and came around to open her door. As he handed her down to the cobblestones that made up the pavement he said, “Welcome to the very last place on Earth anyone would think to look for either of us.”
The old black hinges on the ironwood front doors, plural, groaned as they opened, revealing a tiny white-haired woman with equally miniscule glasses on the end of her nose and the most welcoming face she’d ever seen. She rushed out to meet Mack, who swept her up in a bear hug that spun them almost halfway around the fountain. It was sweet and jarring juxtaposed against the man she’d known to this point. He looked happy, as odd as it was to say.
As soon as he put her down, he walked over and took Cassie by the wrist and drew her into the conversation physically with an introduction. “Mamita, this is Cassie, and she needs a place to crash for a bit.”
The white haired woman smoothed her hands down her shirt like she was pressing out wrinkles, and her eyes lit up with recognition. “Oh! I didn’t realize!” She slugged him in the arm and broke into Spanish too rapid to follow that had Mack ducking his head with chagrin. He replied softly before the woman turned back to her. “I’m sorry, Mackenzie didn’t tell me he was bringing you, he just said he needed the place for a while since his parents are out of town.”
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