by Lexi Blake
He’d hauled himself into The Rusty Spur and in fifteen minutes knew where to go for meth.
Nelson Hall. Bryce’s good friend. Nelson Hall, who had sent his son to do his dirty work, who obviously let his son test the product.
He stopped the truck. There were three teens standing around smoking.
“Hey, can you tell me where to find Nelson Hall?” Trev asked.
The only female of the group pointed down a thin, gravel road. “He’s the last one on the road, but I don’t think he’s there. His son is.”
Apparently, juvie wasn’t what it used to be if Austin Hall was already out. He nodded and prepared himself. It was a stupid plan, and he couldn’t help himself. He had to know. He started down the road.
Fuck, what was he doing? He was putting himself in harm’s way. He was going on a drug buy. He wasn’t supposed to be getting close to this life again, but he had to. He was supposed to be working O’Malley’s herd, marking time until he came into his money and got the chance to work his own herd. He wasn’t even going to stay in this town. He was leaving.
A vision of Beth between himself and Bo assaulted him, her body twisting as she tried to kiss them both, her heart big enough to handle her men.
He’d started the relationship because she’d seemed to need him, and he’d needed a distraction.
Some fucking distraction.
She’d wormed her way into his heart, and he wasn’t sure if he could live without her. It was his lot in life to never be able to do anything halfway. The only time he didn’t feel was when he was drunk. Love for Beth was rolling in his veins and with it the acknowledgement that he loved Bo, too. Bo was the brother he’d never had, the person who might have been able to save him if Trev had given him half a chance.
Could he make it work? Did he even have the right to try?
Trev stopped the truck in front of a ramshackle single-wide that had seen way better days. Austin Hall sat on the steps outside the trailer.
The kid looked far older than his sixteen years. His face was covered in sores, and when he smiled, Trev could see that his teeth were already showing the effects of meth.
Thank god he’d never gotten into meth.
“Should have known you would show up. When Dad heard you got back into town, he said we should up production.”
Trev barely managed to not clock the little shit. The need to kill the kid was right there. He’d taken a shot at Beth. But hurting some sixteen-year-old meth head who probably didn’t have much of a chance of seeing his seventeenth birthday wouldn’t fix things. He let his face go slack and tried to keep his hat slung low so no one noticed how clear his eyes were. “I need a fix, man. Bryce Hughes told me this was the place to come.”
He flashed a wad of cash to let the kid know he was serious.
“Bryce would know.” The kid was dressed in jeans and a hoodie, his sneakers worn. Earbuds dangled around his neck.
“Hey, shouldn’t you be in jail or something? I heard you took a shot at someone.” Trev held his breath. Either the kid would buy that Trev’s brother-in-law would send him here, or he would walk away.
The kid shrugged. “That was a mistake. No one was supposed to be in that house. I wasn’t trying to kill the bitch, and then her dumbass boyfriend caught me. Luckily, we got a judge or something on tape fucking a prostitute. So I’m out. No one can keep me in jail. Bryce slapped the fuck out of me, though. Your brother-in-law is an asshole. Did he find the shit?”
Austin hopped off the steps. He had a cigarette in his hand.
Trev tried to play it cool. So Bryce was looking for something, was he? And he was willing to involve a kid, to hurt a kid over it.
He would be willing to hurt Beth and Shelley, too.
“He’s not my blood, man. I don’t claim him. And no. He hasn’t found a thing. He’s panicked about it, too.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and tried to look a little desperate.
The kid took a drag off his cigarette. “Dad told him he shouldn’t have gotten involved with those mob guys. That’s some bad shit, but you know Bryce. He talked about moving upmarket. I don’t know why we had to start dealing coke. No one does coke out here. He’s turned us all into some freaking middle men, you know. Like we’re some kind of business with plans and shit. Dad’s been cutting the pure stuff Bryce brings back from South America and selling it to gangs and the freaking mafia. Stupid asshole. Now they’re going to come down on all our heads, and all because he pissed off his partner.”
A wealth of things began to fall into place. Bryce was in deep, and he was going to drag everyone down with him. “He thinks Barry stashed something at the old Bellows place?”
Austin laughed. “Ain’t that funny? Old Maudine Bellows died not even knowing she had a half a million dollars’ worth of coke in her house. Barry hid it good, too. I couldn’t find it. I don’t know how you find fucking anything in that house. Talk about a hoarder. I could barely move when I searched the garage. Hey, is that why you’re fucking that girl? Does Bryce have you looking for it, too? Dude, he promised me ten grand if I found it.”
Nausea rolled. His brother-in-law was the money behind the county’s drugs. And apparently he’d been blackmailing politicians. How far was he in? There was no question about it. Shelley and Beth would be in Dallas by nightfall under the protective glare of Julian Lodge. He would set Ben and Chase, the super twins, on this and protect his family.
His family.
Beth and Bo were his family. He couldn’t pretend. He couldn’t say he would take it one day at a time and let life sort itself out. They were his. They would be his tomorrow. They would be in his heart no matter what he did, and if he walked away, he would regret it for the rest of his life.
He knew enough. He needed to get them out of town. He had no deep desire to play the hero.
“So, how much do you want?”
Trev stared at the kid before realizing what he was asking. “Uh, I changed my mind. I’ll just go get a beer.”
Big mistake. The kid stared at him as though trying to decide something.
“She’s your girlfriend, isn’t she?”
Trev was silent, trying to decide if the kid would call Bryce.
Austin’s face fell. “I didn’t mean to hurt her. I didn’t want to. I panicked. Mouse is a nice lady. She probably doesn’t remember it, but when I was a kid, she helped me out. My bike got a flat, and she stopped and made sure it was working again. She’s real nice. I wouldn’t have hurt her.”
There was a long moment of quiet before the kid spoke again. “The mob sent a guy to deal with Bryce. Someone from New York. I overheard Bryce and my dad talking. God, don’t tell them I told you. They would fucking kill me. They were going back to that house they sent me to. The mob dude said he would kill Bryce if they didn’t find the drugs. You need to tell her to stay away.”
Sheer panic threatened to overwhelm Trev. He’d sent them home. “Call the cops.”
Austin’s eyes were old and tired. “Who do you think’s been watching the place? One of the deputies has been on the payroll for years. Only the sheriff is clean, but he’s retiring soon.”
Trev pulled a card out his pocket along with all the cash he had. He jotted down Leo’s cell on the card and handed Austin both. “That’s three hundred dollars. It’s yours if you’ll call that number and tell the man who answers what’s going on. Tell him Shelley’s in trouble, and we need him. He’ll know what to do. You don’t have to say anything else to him. Austin, please. You don’t have to live this life. Help us.”
He was putting all his faith in a meth head, but he’d dumped his phone once he’d hit town and Marty wouldn’t stop calling. He had to get to Beth.
“There’s no way out.” But Austin’s fingers were already pulling the phone from his pocket.
“That’s what I said six hundred and ninety-three days ago.” It was how long he’d been sober. It was how long he’d had to give to the universe before he’d found his life, his Beth. “And t
he man who answers that phone is the reason I’m alive today. Thank you.”
“Yeah, um, the football dude wanted me to call you. Someone named Shelley is in trouble.”
Austin continued to talk as Trev raced to his truck and peeled down the road.
He prayed he would get there in time.
Chapter Nineteen
Beth’s hands trembled as she stood in the hallway. She could still feel the cold press of metal against her head, though Carlo had moved on to standing behind Bo now.
“I don’t know where to start.” She felt powerless. It was a big house.
“You seem like an intelligent woman. Where would you hide half a million dollars’ worth of cocaine?” Carlo’s voice was oddly calm, as though he was merely asking an academic question.
“I wouldn’t touch half a million dollars’ worth of cocaine.”
Carlo smiled, seemingly amused by her. “As I said, an intelligent woman. Now prove how smart you are or your boyfriend is going to join Mr. Hughes.”
Bo sat still, his face betraying nothing, as though he didn’t want to show her his fear. But she was afraid. She was so afraid for him.
“She doesn’t know anything.” Shelley wasn’t being as stoic as Bo. She was pissed and didn’t mind telling the dude with the gun. “It would be faster if you would let me help her search.”
Carlo chuckled and put a hand on Shelley’s hair. “Yes, I’m sure you would like that. Do you know what your husband offered me in exchange for not beating him to death? He offered me you. He said you were a hellion in bed. I like a touch of spice in my women. Perhaps I’ll take you with me when this is over. A woman as pretty as you is always a valuable commodity. Your skin is so fair.”
“Don’t you fucking touch her.” Bo growled the words.
Carlo pointed the gun at him. Beth felt her heart stop. “I don’t need you, Mr. O’Malley. I suspect the girl will try to save whoever she can.”
“You do need him.” Beth squared her shoulders. “I swear to god, if you kill him, I won’t help you. I’ve been in love with that man since I was five years old. If you put a bullet in his brain, you’ll have to kill me, too. How long do you have before someone shows up out here? How many people can you kill before someone notices? This is a small town. I doubt no one’s noticed you. Did you take a room at the motel? Did you have dinner at Patty’s? Trust me, someone noticed you, and everyone is talking about the smooth Yankee. And everyone will blame you if we end up dead.”
“I could simply disappear,” he offered.
“And your face will be everywhere,” Beth argued. “This isn’t the city. This is the middle of nowhere. A murder like this will be all over the news. How helpful will your employer find you then? Think about that before you kill the man I love.”
Carlo’s eyes became cold slits, his handsomeness almost reptilian in the moment. “I take your point, Miss Hobbes. Take mine. I don’t have long. I need to find what I came for, or I have no use for any of you. My employer would rather keep this quiet. If I don’t have to dispose of bodies beyond Mr. Hughes, I would welcome that. I would rather leave you tied up for the authorities to find. That would not make a huge news story. But I will kill you all if I don’t get what I want.”
Beth nodded. She took a long breath. She hated the fact that Bryce’s body lay in front of the door to her bathroom, but Carlo wasn’t moving it.
“Shelley, what do you remember about Barry?” Barry had been the one to hide the drugs.
“I remember he was an asshole.” She sighed. “Honestly, now a lot of things make sense. I remember hearing him and Bryce…” She choked on the name, her eyes going to the body, but she took a breath and visibly calmed. “Barry and Bryce had a huge fight before Barry died. Before Bryce killed him. None of it made sense at the time. Barry kept insisting that Bryce was cutting him out. He said he wouldn’t be cut out. I guess he was talking about the drugs.”
“And it would have been easier to hide them here than his own place. That would have been the first place Bryce would look,” Bo reasoned.
“Maudine was sick the last few months of her life. It wouldn’t have been hard to hide something from her. I didn’t think she and Barry were that close,” Beth explained.
“They weren’t,” Shelley said. “When he started to visit her a couple of times a week, everyone thought it was because he was getting in good before she died. He told Bryce as much. He told Bryce that all the old lady ever did was watch TV and write in that journal of hers. He said she probably wrote pages about him since she didn’t have much else to write about.”
“The journals. Of course.” Beth started to cross the room, excitement lighting her step.
“Careful,” Carlo warned.
She held her hands out. “I have to get a box out of the closet. The woman who owned this house kept meticulous journals all of her life. They’re in the closet. Maybe she saw something. She would have written it down.”
Carlo nodded slowly toward the closet door, the warning clear in his eyes.
She opened the door and pulled out the box. She took a moment, searching for anything she could use. The closet was full of housedresses and sensible shoes and blankets. Nothing that would help.
“Miss Hobbes.”
Beth opened the box and pulled out the newest journal. “Found it. Give me a second.”
She scanned the last several weeks of Maudine’s life.
“Barry visited again. Vulture. The vultures are circling as my life comes to an end. He can’t fool me. I never even liked his father. And then she talks about her cats. There’s a lot about her cats in here. Apparently Mr. Sprinkles had bowel issues.”
“Beth,” Bo said, his mouth a firm, authoritative line.
She skipped the sections on cats. “Here we go. Barry the vulture came again today. I don’t know why he bothers. He’s always on his phone. He never really listens. He offered to clean out the barn, though. Why, I have no idea. No one has used the barn in fifty years.”
Beth looked up. “The barn. We should look there.”
Carlo nodded. “We will look there. Mr. O’Malley, you will join us. I believe I will leave Mrs. Hughes. Her mouth has proven to be difficult to deal with. I can solve that problem for you, darling. I probably will. I’m intrigued. I believe you will make an excellent hostage. Otherwise, I might not make it out of this piss hole. Sleep well.”
He brought the butt of the gun down on Shelley’s head. She sank to the floor.
“Is she alive?” She wanted to go to Shelley. If Trev’s sister was dead, she would be devastated.
“Her head is extremely hard. She’ll be fine. On your feet, O’Malley.” Carlo kept the gun on Bo as he struggled to his feet.
Bo’s hair was in his face. He tossed it back. “It’s going to be okay, Beth. It’s all going to be okay. I’ll be okay no matter what happens.”
She knew what he was saying and dismissed it utterly. He was telling her to run if she had the chance. He was telling her that he’d rather die than watch something bad happen to her. But she could take whatever would happen if it meant they came out of this alive. She wasn’t fragile. She wasn’t timid anymore, either. She was his woman. She was Trev’s woman. She was going to survive.
Carlo nudged him with the gun. Bo moved forward. He tripped and fell against her. They went tumbling to the floor.
“Baby, he’s not going to let us live.” Bo’s plaintive words were whispered in her ear. “Run. Run and find Trev.”
Carlo held the gun to the back of Bo’s head. “I suggest you get up, O’Malley. I’m not fooling around.”
“Sorry,” Bo mumbled. “I tripped. I’m not used to walking around without the use of my hands.”
Beth fumbled to get up. She stooped to help Bo.
“I love you, baby,” he whispered. “You run. You leave me behind and don’t look back. You tell Trev to take care of you.”
“Move away from him,” Carlo ordered.
Beth stepped back. She looked
at the man she’d loved since she was a child. He’d been a strange child, quiet and yet filled with pride and rage. Tender and yet quick to anger. He’d been her friend even when it hurt him. He’d been afraid to move beyond friendship, but even that slight fell away in the face of his love for her. They’d been each other’s silent strength. It had taken Trev to get them to speak.
“I won’t, you know.” She didn’t care that Carlo was listening. Bo needed to understand. She wouldn’t run. She wouldn’t leave him behind. She would stand beside him even if it meant she died.
“You’re going to get in serious trouble, Bethany Hobbes.”
“I already am.”
She turned and started to walk down the hall. She heard Bo shuffling behind her.
“I warn you, I have a hand on him. If he ‘trips’ again, I will be forced to fire.” Carlo’s deep voice cut through the quiet of the house.
She took the stairs carefully. Bo was probably right. No matter what he’d said, Carlo would probably kill them. He wouldn’t want to leave any witnesses. Carlo was lying. He might take Shelley with him, but Shelley wouldn’t survive the experience. She would disappear somewhere south of the border and then she would wish she was dead.
She walked across the lawn like an automaton, focusing on her feet. One in front of the other. She crossed over the grass and the drive. The barn loomed in front of her. She hadn’t been inside. It had seemed dark and foreboding. Most of the land had been sold to the O’Malleys and the livestock auctioned off long before that. Beth had planned on either tearing the barn down or turning it into a guesthouse.
She hadn’t planned on it becoming her tomb.
“Open the door, dear,” Carlo ordered. His politeness seemed a nasty, suspicious thing.
She would find the drugs. She would find them, but Carlo might not like the way she handed them over. She wouldn’t allow Bo to die. And if she went down herself, she would go down fighting.
* * * *
Trev parked a half a mile away. He didn’t dare get closer. He needed the element of surprise. If Leo did his job, it wouldn’t be too long before the sheriff made his way here.