Hard Core Law (Texas Rangers: Elite Troop)

by Angi Morgan

  “If you lift one finger...” she said to the guard. But she couldn’t blame him or let Josh take out his frustration on the hired help. She’d lost the kids on her watch. She should have been more careful. She laid her hand on Josh’s arm, trying to gain his attention. “It’s not his fault.”

  Josh’s strong jaw ticked as he ground his teeth. His wide eyes shifted to hers in a crazy gaze, but his muscles relaxed under her fingers.

  “Earlier I asked how being rich could be an awful secret.” He released the guard shoving him away when two FBI agents were within reaching distance. “I think I have my answer.”

  “You don’t, but I’d rather talk about it in private.”

  Josh turned and stomped toward his car—the agents close behind.

  “Whatever my uncle is paying you, I’ll give you the same to stop following me,” she said to the bodyguard.

  Tracey fell into step next to Agent Barlow, who held up her hand for the guard to stop and not follow. It didn’t work. Josh spun around so fast Agent Lanning nearly collided with him.

  “No! I need to be alone. That means all of you.” He waved everyone away from him. He shook his head, chin hanging to his chest. Then he looked only at her. “They might need you around, but I can’t do it. And I don’t have to.”

  “He doesn’t mean that,” the agent said.

  Tracey stopped. Exhausted from everything but really rocked by Josh’s words. Her words had been similar when she’d walked away from her uncle when she was twenty-one. She’d left him, the man designated by her parents and grandparents as her guardian, about the same way Josh had disappeared in his car.

  Tracey hadn’t only meant every word back then, she’d changed her name and began working for the Parkers. Oh yeah, some hurts just couldn’t be fixed with “I’m sorry.”

  * * *

  JOSH DROVE, HEADING for the long way home. Flashing lights to warn the cars ahead of him that he was going fast. He was angry. More than angry—he was back to being scared that he’d never see his kids again.

  Different than Gwen’s last days. That was something he’d prepared for, something he’d known was possible even though he couldn’t control it. If those men hadn’t shown up, the kidnappers would have given him more instructions. He’d know what he needed to do. Or at least his son would have another insulin cartridge.

  There was a blood sugar time bomb ticking away for Jackson, and at the moment Josh had no way to defuse it.

  He sped under Lake Shore Drive and realized where his subconscious was taking him—the Rescue Center. He slowed the car to a nonlethal speed and switched off the lights. The phone he’d been given from the kidnappers was still in his back pocket. McCaffrey knew it was there but hadn’t obtained the number yet. A true burner that wouldn’t lead anyone to his location.

  Josh could wait for the kidnapper’s next call and instructions. They wanted him to take care of their problem. Right? They had to call back.

  Whatever they demanded, he’d do. Alone. No more plans behind the plans or counterespionage. He was on his own and would stay here so no one would find him.

  With that decided, Josh parked close to the back door and rang the buzzer. At this time of night there would only be a couple of people on duty. The door opened to a familiar face.

  “Hey, Josh. You haven’t been around in a while. What’s it been, about six or seven months?” Bernie Dawes stepped to the side, holding the door open and inviting him inside.

  Six or seven months ago he’d been thinking about asking Tracey on a date. He’d chickened out. Funny how he could be the tough Texas Ranger ninety percent of the time, making decisions instantly that saved lives. But the possibility of asking a girl on a date caused his brain to malfunction.

  “Got any dogs that need to be walked?”

  “One of those kinds of nights?” Bernie asked.

  “Yeah. I’m waiting on a phone call.” Josh stuck his hands in his back pockets, willing the phone to ring. Nothing happened.

  “Well, I just took ’em all out about half an hour ago. How about I set you up with an abandoned litter of pups? They’ve had a pretty rough start.”

  “That’ll do the trick.”

  Bernie led the way to the kennels and pulled a chair into a small room with a box of four or five black fur bundles. Five. They were all cuddled on top of each other.

  “What’s on their heads? Are those dots of paint?”

  “We’ve got a Lab that just whelped, so we rotate these dudes in. But they’re black, too.” Bernie laughed and scooped up one of the pups. “We have a chart with their different colors. It’s the only way to tell if they’ve all been fed. These guys are all full. They just need a little TLC.”

  “I shouldn’t stay long. I might not have much time.”

  “Whatever you give them is more than they have.” He leaned against the wall.

  Loving on the puppies was easy. Seeing the other animals—the strays, the injured, the unwanted... The tough guy he appeared to be suddenly needed to know how this man survived day after day. “How do you do this, Bernie?”

  He shrugged. “I like animals.”

  Bernie turned to go, but hesitated. He might have realized that Josh was back because there was a problem. It was like he was the bartender, wiping down the counter a little more often in front of the man sipping his third whiskey.

  “I got in trouble today,” Bernie said, picking up a puppy. “I didn’t mention my wife’s hair. She told me to find my own dinner because I didn’t notice she had highlights. She’s always doing something. I didn’t think I had to say anything about it. Sometimes it’s the little things that cause you all sorts of big problems. Catch what I’m throwin’ at ya?”

  Josh nodded. He could still see Tracey as she walked into the kitchen. He’d wanted to look into her eyes and reassure her that everything would be okay, but she’d been staring at the floor. He could only see her thick red hair, messed up as if someone had placed angry hands on her. Seeing her hair like that, he knew she’d been hurt and it killed him.

  “Tracey doesn’t think I notice that she dyes her hair red.” He picked up the first puppy and stroked the entire length of its body. He wasn’t completely sure why Tracey’s hair color was important, but he could breathe again. “She started about three years ago, getting a little redder every couple of months. Further away from the brown it used to be.”

  The room was quiet. No barking or whining. Bernie kept wiping down that metaphorical bar’s counter. Josh felt...relief. There weren’t too many people Josh could just talk to. He was the commander of the Company. Being a single dad, he didn’t go for a drink with the guys after a case very often. It had been a long time since he’d had friends.

  “I should have told her I liked it,” he admitted.

  “Probably,” Bernie agreed. “You get that phone call, just make sure the door closes behind you. You come around anytime, man. We understand. Hey, aren’t your kiddos old enough to choose a dog? Maybe one of these will do?” He handed the pup with a green dot to Josh. He brushed his hands and gave up waiting on an answer. “Well, I’ve got a cat who had surgery today and it’s having a hard time so I’m going to leave ya to it.”

  Bernie left in a hurry. Josh figured he must have scowled at the mention of the twins. Poor Bernie thought his visit was about work. Getting a dog? He brought the pup to his face. It was about time. There hadn’t been a dog at the house since before he got married.

  A whirlwind relationship, elopement and pregnancy that led to Gwen’s diagnosis. There hadn’t been time to add a dog to the family. Maybe it was part of the reason these types of visits helped. He didn’t know who got more out of them—him or the dogs he comforted.

  Admit it. The comfort was for him. The idea had come from Company F’s receptionist, Vivian. She volunteered for the shelter, tryi
ng to place animals and fostering.

  The gut-wrenching pain hit him again like it was yesterday. It had been at least a year since he’d felt the loss of his wife so strongly. He put the puppy down and bent forward knowing the pain wasn’t physical, but trying to relieve it like a cramp.

  When Gwen had been diagnosed with leukemia, every minute of his time had gone to either the job or research or treatment. There had come a time when he’d protected himself so much that he could barely feel.

  After the third or fourth late-night trip out here, he’d realized that his unofficial therapy was working. Petting and walking the dogs made him reconnect. He switched puppies and gently stroked, letting the motion replace the fright. It freed his mind. A couple of minutes later he switched again and realized that’s why he’d come to the shelter.

  It was also a reason he kept the visits to himself. Vivian was the only person in his life that knew he came here to get his head on straight. And he sure needed a minute to think calmly tonight.

  The last two pups were smaller than the others. Each had one white paw—one right and one left. He concentrated on those paws and cuddled both of them together. They both almost fit into his palm.

  Jackson and Sage had been small. But when they were born they were strong and hadn’t needed machines. Trips here to sit with dogs had been fewer when the doctors attacked Gwen’s cancer full force. Some days, just taking the time to hold his kids was an effort that made him sleepless with guilt.

  The twins were four months old when Gwen realized she was losing the battle. Somehow that had made her stronger. She’d gotten everything in order—with Tracey’s help. Gwen fought hard, but in the end, she was at peace that her family would be taken care of.

  Removing the phone from his pocket, he replayed the video of his kids. “Ring,” he commanded.

  He got on his knees next to the box and arranged the blanket where the pups would be secure as they piled on top of each other seeking sleep.

  “It can’t be over for them. You’ve got to give me another chance. This can’t be the end. She fought so hard to bring these kids into the world,” he told the puppies or God or anyone else who might be listening.

  The phone rang and he didn’t hesitate. “This is Parker.”

  “You’re a very lucky man, Ranger.”

  “I’m not sure I share your definition of lucky. Does this mean you haven’t hurt my kids?”

  The insulin cartridges and needles were on the front seat. Meet me tonight. Ask me to do something right now. I need to make sure my kids are safe.

  “The deal’s still moving forward, no matter where you’re hiding out.”

  He heard the uneasiness in the man’s voice. Whoever they were, they had no idea that he was at the animal shelter. That might work to his advantage.

  “What do you need me to do?”

  “You know what we want. Get it. Keep the phone close and wait for instructions.”

  “Can I talk to Jackson? Is he okay? He has—”

  “Diabetes, yeah, we know. We’re dealing with it.”

  “I need to see him, talk to him. His pump and needle will need to be changed. He has to be monitored closely.” There wasn’t any way he could talk anyone through all the different possibilities that might happen if something went wrong.

  “I said we were taking care of it!” the voice yelled. “Don’t forget to bring the woman.”

  “That’s not possible.”

  “Make it possible. Or they’ll die.”

  Chapter Seven

  Josh drove to his second home—Company F headquarters. The lights were on and he recognized the vehicles in the parking lot. They were all there. All of his men.

  Bryce met him at the door. “We didn’t expect to see you, Major. At least not tonight.”

  “My replacement here?” Josh waited while the ranger secured things, so he could be escorted through the building like a visitor. “I need a minute of his time.”

  “How you holding up?”

  “Can’t take time to think about it.”

  “Captain Oaks is in your office.” Bryce led the way through the men.

  All of them stood and offered support. They were the best of the best and working the case with or without him as their leader. He entered his office. Nothing had changed. The lifetime he’d been away was actually less than twenty-four hours.

  “Aiden.” Josh closed the door and dropped the blinds. He didn’t want witnesses to the conversation. Nothing that could hinder the case or put his men at risk of something to testify about later.

  Aiden left the chair behind the desk and sat next to Josh. The Captain was much older, but barely looked it. Josh only knew because the “old man,” as he was referred to, had been eligible for retirement a couple of years ago. He’d proved his mettle earlier that year when he’d been shot defending the witness of the Isabella Tenoreno murder.

  Captain Aiden Oaks had been after the Tenoreno and Rosco Mafia families longer than a decade. It was fitting that he’d take Josh’s place as head of Company F.

  Even if it was temporary.

  “I could ask how you’re holding up, but it’s obvious. What can I do for you?” Aiden kept his voice low. No chance anyone would overhear them. He also leaned forward, seeming anxious to know what was needed.

  There was a chance that Aiden Oaks was the only man in a position of authority who would keep his word. Josh needed to make certain that the captain wasn’t going to turn him over to the authorities—state or federal. Or call them as soon as he pulled out of the parking lot.

  “They want Tenoreno’s transportation route.”

  “Everyone assumed that’s where this was headed.” Aiden pressed his lips together into a flat line. “Your men filled me in and headquarters gave me a rough outline before booting me this direction.”

  “I shouldn’t be here.” Josh started to rise from the chair, but Aiden coaxed him to sit again. “Just talking to me could get you written up, but I don’t have any options.”

  In his years as a Texas Ranger, Josh had never doubted whether he could count on his partner or the men in his company. If this case was just about him, there’d be no doubt about what he’d do. But his kids’ lives had never been dependent on that trust.

  Until now.

  “I guess the strategy to follow and catch these guys when they weren’t looking fell apart when your babysitter’s bodyguards showed up.” Aiden nodded. “Yeah, I’m staying on top of things. But you’re here. You obviously have a plan. How can I help put it in action?”

  Could he trust this man so intent on helping save his kids?

  “I need the route or Jackson dies.” Josh watched Aiden’s eyes. They never wavered. Never looked away like someone hiding something. “I heard the panic in the kidnapper’s voice—both about my son and whatever his original plan was. This character is smart enough to know that he had a short window before everything changed. He’s playing it by ear now, just like us.”

  Aiden nodded again, acting like he understood. “Even if you deliver the route there’s no guarantee. Say we give ’em a bit of rope, hoping they might hang themselves, it won’t guarantee that your kids will be safely released. Won’t mean they’ll release you either for that matter.”

  “But I’ll be with them.” Josh choked on the words, took a second, then stood. “My kids aren’t going to be the victims in this. I know the limits of the Rangers, of the FBI, of the state prosecutors. They’re hoping for an easy fix. We both know there isn’t one.”

  Josh stared at the frame hanging above the door. Gwen stitched the Ranger motto when she’d first been confined to bed rest with the twins. It was a reminder every day of what he’d lost, but he kept it there. Over the last year, it had also become a reminder of what he’d gained—the twins. And Tracey.
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br />   “One Riot, One Ranger,” Aiden said.

  Strength and truth were in his voice. Josh had to trust him. His plan could only work if he did.

  Aiden gripped his shoulder with a firm, steady hand. “I yanked your company into this mess when I sent Garrison Travis to a dinner party and they witnessed Tenoreno’s assassin. I owe you, Josh. So what’s the plan?”

  Eager to help or eager to learn how to stop him? Aiden might be giving him a long piece of rope to hang himself. It was a risk Josh had to take.

  “I need a feasible route, you supply a decoy, we bring these guys down like the rest of the Tenoreno family.”

  “It’s a good start. Are you going to exchange yourself for your kids?”

  “That’s what I was planning, but I’m not sure it’ll work. They’re insisting that I bring Tracey.”

  Aiden rubbed his chin and leaned back in the chair he’d reoccupied. “That does throw a kink in the works. Could possibly mean that they’ll keep all three as hostages until you do whatever they want.”

  “Yeah, that’s the most likely scenario.”

  “It seems that the only way to get your kids back is to tell the kidnappers the truth. We’ll need to inform them how and where Tenoreno is really being moved from Huntsville to Austin. Company F will just have to be prepared.”

  “Are you going to run this through state headquarters?”

  “They won’t approve it—not even as a hypothetical.” He winked. “Just like they wouldn’t have approved the last-minute operation that brought Tenoreno down to begin with. Might be one of those situations where it’s better to ask forgiveness than permission. Of course, there’s nothing at all to stop us from talking hypothetical situations. Your experience would be valuable and much appreciated.”

  “My experience. Right.” Josh’s gut told him to go for it. Trust him.

  His friend pointed to the motto. “This is one time, more than one of us might be required.”