Agent I1: Tristan [01] The D.I.R.E. Agency

by Joni Hahn

  Max yawned into the phone. “What? That isn’t enough for you? They owe a small fortune.”

  Tristan stared at the list of existing medical bills for Jim Monroe. Rachel was right – they would never get all of them paid off on their own.

  “Pay them all. Cash in some of my mutual funds. I want them all paid in full.”

  Silence met his demand before Max exploded. “Are you freakin’ crazy? That’s a lot of money.”

  “Do it, Max.”

  He sighed into the phone. “Okay. It’s your money.”

  “That’s right. Oh, and have a new, fully-loaded pickup delivered to her house after I’m gone.”

  “Anything else? Yacht? Mansion? Small island, per chance?”

  “Max…”

  “Okay, okay. I‘ll get on it tomorrow.”

  “Thanks.”

  Tristan hesitated before he spoke again. He knew Max wouldn’t like his next words any more than he liked his first.

  “I also want you to draw up a will for me.”

  He heard Max’s chair squeak. A sure sign he sat up straight in the old, leather monstrosity.

  “What’s going on, Jacobs?”

  “I want to keep it simple. I want you to leave all of my assets – everything I own - to Rachel Monroe, Aidan’s sister.”

  “What?”

  “Do it, Max.”

  “Does Mitchell know about this?”

  Tristan frowned up at the ceiling. “No, and he doesn’t need to know.”

  “I’m required to report something like this to him. I can’t do it behind his back.”

  Of course. Mitchell had his thumb in everything at D.I.R.E.

  “Fine. Then tell him. But, not until I’ve signed off on it and everything is legal. I don’t want him trying to pull some bullshit to stall it.”

  “Tristan, if I lose my job over this…”

  Like Mitchell would ever let Max leave. There weren’t many people Mitchell trusted, but Max Bruner was one of them.

  “Yeah. Go tell someone that actually believes that could happen.”

  Max cursed under his breath. “So, does Monroe know you have the hots for his sister?”

  His gaze went to the sleeping beauty lying under a patch quilt on the sofa. If having the hots for Rachel wasn’t an understatement, he didn’t know what was. She had quickly become an obsession.

  “No. He would draw and quarter me.”

  Max laughed in his ear. “Now, he wouldn’t have to go to all that trouble. All he’d have to do is touch you.”

  Tristan sat up in the chair. “What have they done to him?”

  “Hell, I can’t tell you that, Jacobs. Mitchell would draw and quarter me.”

  #####

  “I hear you’re looking for Jacobs.”

  Dar sauntered to a stop a few feet from the big, blond man leaning against their black SUV. He and Matt had just eaten the best pancakes on the planet at Brewster’s diner. The coffee could’ve put hair on a baboon’s ass but the pancakes were melt-in-your-mouth incredible. He’d have to work out for a week to lose the leaden mass lying in his stomach.

  “Maybe. What’s it to you?”

  The man straightened away from the vehicle. Wow. This guy was straight from a western wear ad. In a cowboy hat, plaid western shirt and jeans, he had chewing tobacco in his lip and mud on his boots. Dar wondered if he skidded across the hood of his truck to get in each time.

  “Are you looking for Tristan Jacobs or not?”

  Dar didn’t move a muscle, but in his head, he danced around like a disco fool. No one in town – no one – would give him information in Jacobs. That’s why he’d resorted to talking to those boys in the park. Now, this redneck brought it to him on a silver platter. Some days things just went your way.

  He nodded once.

  “I can tell you where to find him.”

  Dar shoved his hands in his jeans pockets. “Why that’s right neighborly of you…?”

  “Cody. Cody Brewster.” He stuck out his hand for a shake. Dar just stared at it. There was no telling where that country boy’s hand had been. He wouldn’t touch it with a cattle prod.

  “So, where can I find him?”

  Cody pulled back his hand with a frown. “Why do you want to know?”

  Matt said, “Let’s just say we have a score to settle.”

  Brewster’s nostrils flared over his tobacco-stained teeth. “Get in line.”

  Interesting. Dar had assumed Jacobs arrived in Creekmore in advance of their deal next week.

  “What did he do to you, Brewster?”

  Brewster’s hands clenched into fists. “The sonovabitch stole my bride from my wedding last Saturday.”

  Pulling back his head, Dar shared a glance with Matt. What the hell?

  “Jilted at the altar, Brewster?”

  He growled low in his throat.

  Dar grinned to himself. The primitive mind was so easy to manipulate. “She must be one helluva romp.”

  Growling aloud this time, Brewster held up a fist. Matt flashed him the gun holstered under his jacket. Cody lowered his arm.

  “I’ll get her back. I just need him out of the picture. Can you take care of it?”

  If Jacobs was easy to ‘take care of,’ he would’ve done it a long time ago. However, this was the best opportunity he’d ever had to get rid of him. Capitalizing on it would make his father ecstatic.

  “Where can I find him?”

  “First, I need your word you won’t hurt her.”

  Was this guy serious? Who dealt in honor anymore? What a country bumpkin.

  Dar smothered a grin. “Word.”

  Matt snickered beside him.

  “Prick,” Brewster muttered. “Rachel Monroe. 134 Destiny Lane.” He held out his phone. “Here’s her picture.”

  Dar took it in his hand. Wow. He could see why Jacobs salivated over her. The woman could give Cassandra a run for her money. Blocking his number, he sent the photo to his phone.

  “I mean it, man. Rachel better not get hurt. I have plans for her.”

  Dar rolled his eyes. He really didn’t give a shit what Brewster had planned. His plans were bigger.

  He would use whatever means necessary to capture and kill Tristan Jacobs.

  Chapter 10

  Ben looked up from his television with a stern frown. “I could’ve died and you’d never know it, seeing as how you haven’t been by to see me in God knows how long.”

  Rachel bent to kiss Ben on the cheek. “Ben, we were here the day before yesterday.”

  He hit the off button on his remote. “It’s not about what you’ve done for me in the past. It’s about what you can do for me today.”

  Tristan chuckled to himself. The old man was wound up this morning.

  Rachel straightened away from him. “Ben, what’s gotten into you?”

  “Nothing. Now, go get me some juice from the kitchen.”

  Rachel glanced at Tristan with round, questioning eyes. Tristan shrugged. Like he would know?

  “Why do you want juice? You have coffee sitting right here on your side table.”

  Ben rolled his eyes. “Because I need you to skedaddle for a few minutes.”

  Rachel’s mouth dropped open. “Why?”

  He ushered her to the door. “I want to talk to the boy.”

  Rachel frowned as she held firm. “What boy?”

  Ben pointed at Tristan. “Jacobs here, your bodyguard.”

  Me? Oh, hell.

  “Why?”

  The poor woman looked totally flummoxed. Tristan could relate. He felt just as clueless. The only thing it could be was Jim’s murder. The old man must have more to tell him.

  “If I wanted you to know, Missy, I wouldn’t be trying to get rid of you, now would I?”

  He smothered a grin. “How far is the kitchen? I’m trying to keep Rachel close, Ben.”

  “It’s just down the hall,” he said, his tone defensive. “Not far at all.”

  Turning to Rachel, he clutc
hed her arm in warning. “Are you okay with this?”

  She gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Sure.”

  Kissing her forehead, he said, “Stay alert. Hurry back, okay?”

  With an uncertain nod, she left the room. Tristan’s gut churned as she dropped out of sight.

  “This had better be good, old man.” Turning around a chair, he straddled it and faced Ben.

  The old man shut the door. “It is.”

  Walking back to the table, Ben pulled a large scroll from the side pocket on his tan recliner. Unrolling it, Ben laid out a plan of Creekmore and the surrounding acreage.

  He pointed at the paper. “Jock Brewster owns all of the land south of town, farther than this map shows.”

  Tristan nodded. “Oil?”

  “Yep. A lot of it.” He gave a wily grin. “But, I have more.”

  Tristan stilled in his chair. “What?”

  “I own several thousand acres on either side of him – east and west. I don’t own as much land, but…”

  “But?...” Tristan cocked a brow.

  “They tell me I have three times as much oil.”

  Damn. The old guy was filthy rich. Just like Brewster. Tristan would’ve never guessed. The old man didn’t flaunt it or show it.

  “Has he tried to buy it from you?”

  “Oh, hell yeah. “ Ben waved away the question. “Over the last few years, he’s tried everything to get that land. I won’t budge.”

  “Why not? I mean-”

  Ben held up his hand to stop him. “I know what you mean. I’m at the end of my life. Why don’t I unload it and just enjoy the rest of my days?”

  He didn’t want to insult the old man but… yeah. Ben pulled a legal document from an envelope and slid it across the table.

  Unfolding it, Tristan read the title: Last Will and Testament. He looked up at Ben. “And?”

  “Read it.”

  Scanning the print, Rachel’s name jumped out at Tristan. He did a double take. When Ben died, he would leave everything he owned to Rachel.

  His gaze shot to Ben. “You’re kidding…”

  “No. I changed it about four months ago – after Jim died.”

  Between him and Ben, Rachel could one day buy a small country and live comfortably for the rest of her life. The load on Tristan’s shoulders lightened. It comforted him to know she’d be taken care of when he left.

  “Look at the signature of the county registrar’s office.”

  Tristan sifted through the document and found the last page. Underneath Ben’s signature was stamped the official county filing seal with a clerk’s signature.

  Kate Monroe.

  Tristan’s mind whirled. Cody started showing an interest in Rachel about three months ago. Had Kate told Jock about the will? Why would she wish Cody on her daughter?

  “You think she told Jock about the will?”

  Ben gave an exaggerated nod. “Makes sense, don’t you think? Rachel marries Cody, Jock knows the land is his one day soon. He pays off the hospital debt now, but in the long run, he comes out way ahead.”

  “Would Kate do something like that?”

  Shrugging, Ben said, “She and Jim used to get into some hellacious arguments about money.”

  Rising from the chair, Tristan cursed low as he ran his fingers through his hair. Was Kate trying to take the easy way out of the medical debt by marrying off her daughter to Cody? And hell, what would Aidan say about all of this?

  He needed that information from Mitchell on Jim Monroe.

  Regardless, there was no way in hell he would leave Rachel now. He could take her somewhere but Naylor would track them wherever they went. She didn’t deserve to live like that. He wouldn’t trust her safety to anyone else now – even Aidan.

  He had to end this somehow. Maybe he could talk her into marrying someone else. That would take care of the Cody problem.

  Tristan couldn’t stomach the thought of her with any man. Frederickson wanted her, but if he cheated on her once, he’d do it again. Rachel didn’t deserve that, either.

  “Rachel needs to marry someone. That would put a stop to all of this.”

  A wide grin split Ben’s face. “That’s what I was thinking.”

  “Frederickson is not an option.” Tristan sliced a hand through the air.

  “I agree.”

  “You have a suggestion, Ben? Someone Aidan wouldn’t murder?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, I have one.”

  Tristan waited for him to answer. “Well?”

  “You.”

  #####

  Robert Naylor sat down beside his beautiful daughter in the video conference room. One thing he could say about his children, they had their looks going for them. The ladies loved Dar, and Cassandra brought out the lust in every man she met. Robert had made it clear to all of his agents that she was off limits.

  Of course, there always had to be one that learned the hard way.

  “I had breakfast at Brewster’s Diner today.” Dar’s face loomed large on the video screen. “Best buttermilk pancakes I’ve ever had.”

  Naylor rolled his eyes. “Great, Dar. I’ll call The Food Station right away. They’ll be thrilled with that review.”

  Cassandra smiled as she swung back and forth in her chair.

  “And you wonder why I’m such a smart ass? Anyway…” He told them about his talk with Cody Brewster. “Apparently, his bride-to-be jilted him at the altar last Saturday. Tristan Jacobs kidnapped her from the church.”

  He held up a picture for them to see. Robert’s heart took off at a fast run. The young woman was a beauty, with lightly tanned skin, thick brunette hair and big, aqua eyes.

  Oh… hell…

  Dar lowered the picture to reveal a superior grin. “She was with the guy in the park, which confirms my guess that he was Jacobs. Want to know her name? Rachel-“

  “Monroe...” Robert whispered.

  Kate’s daughter.

  He leaned forward and buried his face in his hands.

  “Father, are you okay?” Cassandra touched his back.

  He hadn’t been okay since Kate left him for Jim Monroe all those years ago. The only thing that had gotten him through most days in El Salvador was the knowledge that Kate waited back home for him.

  It wasn’t until he returned with his SEAL team that he learned she’d married Monroe.

  The damned of it was, he still loved her after all these years, despite what she’d done to him. The twins’ mother, Angela, had known it even though he’d denied it.

  Shaking his head, Robert sat up in his chair. He, Jim and Mitchell used to be the best of friends. They’d gotten each other through BUD/S and some hellish ops. Way back when, no one could have told him that Jim and Mitchell would betray him. Kate, too.

  Never Kate.

  Now, the betrayal had made its way back around, starting with Jim’s death.

  It was about damned time.

  His richest deal to date was on the horizon, besides the opportunity to capture Tristan Jacobs. And with Kate in Creekmore…

  Yes, things were finally looking up.

  “Don’t do anything, Dar. I’m coming down there.”

  “What?”

  “I want to handle this one myself.”

  #####

  Rachel sat between Glenna and Tristan in the stands behind the dugout. From the stares and whispers billowing throughout the crowd, you’d think the fans had come to watch her and Tris, not the game.

  She couldn’t hide it. None of it. Everyone knew about Tris and the wedding, and Cody showing up at the church community center.

  What could she do about it?

  So, she held her head high and let the gossip roll off her sweat-soaked back.

  Of course, it would ‘ve been a lot harder to do that if Tristan wasn’t around. He’d become her anchor in all of this mess and she wondered what she would do when he left in a couple of days.

  You, Rachel, you’re worth dying for.

  Those words had
played over and over in her head today. If she hadn’t been so terrified, she would’ve taken Tristan to her bed last night and shown him how much his words meant to her.

  She had pegged him as a bad person, someone cold to people and their vulnerabilities.

  Yet, he was the vulnerable one. A man that wanted to care yet couldn’t afford to do so. A man that wanted someone to care yet couldn’t allow it to happen.

  Too late. She already did.

  “Jacobs.”

  Mark yelled up at him from the dugout. “Frederickson has to work tonight. Want to fill in for him?”

  Rachel caught her breath. She knew Tris wanted to play. She had seen the way he hit those baseballs back home. He loved the game.

  Tristan shook his head. “No way, man. You know I haven’t played since high school.”

  Walking out of the dugout, Mark made his way up to them and lowered his voice. “If you don’t play, we forfeit the game because we don’t have enough players. I don’t want to lose our place in the standings because Zach has to work.”

  She could see the wheels turning in Tris’s head. He wanted to play. He just didn’t want to leave her side.

  “Go.” She gave him a slight shove with her shoulder. “I’ll be fine. We’re in a crowd. Nothing will happen.”

  He stared at her, his blue eyes brighter than she had seen them since Trunk Bay.

  “You know you want to…” She grinned.

  He gave Mark a pointed stare. “If Brewster goes near her while I’m out there, I’m leaving the game to come get her.”

  Rachel’s heart swelled. Tristan wouldn’t take any chances with her. How many women found a man like that? Would she ever again in her lifetime?

  He’s just doing it because he made a promise to Aidan. Don’t make more out of it than it is.

  Sometimes she wished reality would stay at home.

  “Cody’s on the other team,” Glenna said. “He’s supposed to stay in the dugout but you never know with him.”

  “That’s the deal, Mark,” Tristan said, “and if they ask, the armband doesn’t come off. Deal?”

  Mark sighed as he adjusted the cap on his head. “Deal. I’ll tell the ump you have to leave on the armband for work. Shouldn’t be a problem. If you need to leave the game, just call a time out.” He started down the bleachers. “Come on. I’ve got an extra cap and t-shirt in the dugout.”