None of the men said a single word as he and Daniel quickly changed into their gear. When the last boot was laced, they all converged in the kitchen as Daniel spread out a large aerial map of Treasure Cove and the surrounding towns. It was a large area, with several hiding places.
Quietly looking over the map, Micah took it all in as the men in the room quietly waited.
“How is she, Lieutenant?” a voice asked, breaking the stillness of the room. Micah looked over at the young veteran. He sighed, for the young man was the youngest of the vets at the community center and totally devoted to Kelly. She was instrumental in keeping Peter Vanderlin, a young Marine, from spending the rest of his life in a mental facility. Micah knew there was nothing that Peter would not do for Kelly. Looking around the room, he was not surprised to find them all here. Every veteran that she had ever helped stood waiting for his word. She had touched so many of them. She may be his and Daniel’s wife, but she belonged to them, too. She was one of them, and they took care of their own.
“She is in critical condition,” he replied.
Peter stepped forward, dressed in woodland camouflage, with a painted face and an exceptionally lethal sniper rifle in his hands, and asked, “Will she live?”
“Doc says if she makes it through the night she has a chance,” Micah admitted. “Look, guys, she has a tough road ahead of her. We all know the drill. We have all been there. She is a strong, healthy woman. I will not accept anything else but a full recovery. In the meantime, we have a mission.
“Orders, Lieutenant?” another veteran asked, just as Brannon Kincaid walked in the back door.
“Micah, thank god I caught you before you left,” the deputy sheriff said, walking over to him.
“Report,” Micah ordered.
“The ballistics came back on the bullet. It’s a 7.62mm.”
“Wait a minute. Did you just say a 7.62 millimeter?” Peter asked.
“Report, Marine,” Micah ordered, instructing Peter to continue.
“The 7.62 millimeter is a sniper’s bullet of choice. The long-range ball ammunition uses the M118 bullet. It is a special 173-grain boat-tailed ball bullet consisting of a lead slug with a gilding metal jacket.”
“What kind of weapon are we talking about, civilian or military?” Daniel asked, entering the conversation.
“If I was putting money on it, I would say it’s the M-24 Sniper Weapon System rifle with a 7.62mm, 6-shot, one round in the chamber, and five rounds in the magazine, bolt-action rifle. As for who can get one, anyone can. My sister just bought one on eBay two weeks ago.”
“Well that’s just great! We have a lunatic with a professional-grade weapon running around with an eager trigger finger. Fuck, how in the hell am I gonna find this bastard?” Brannon yelled as he slammed his hat on the table.
“You’re not going to find him. We are,” Micah informed him.
“And do what, kill him? I can’t let you do that, Micah. Look, I understand, I really do. If my momma had a daughter, I would be right over there with the rest of them. If you find this person and kill him, that makes you a murderer. Braxton will arrest you. Molly will go to her grandparents, and what will happen to Kelly? Do you really want her visiting you once a month behind a glass window?”
“Not going to happen,” Daniel said, loading a clip into his 9-millimeter berretta.
“Treasure Cove is a big place, Brannon. You know that. We take care of our own out here. They won’t ever find the body,” Tate Quinn said, looking over the map. “Besides, my wife is holed up in some dingy motel room, under guard, ready to deliver any minute. This bastard has upset her last days of impending motherhood, and that has pissed me off. For that alone, he is going to pay.”
“Look, Brannon, you can either help or leave. Choose,” Jeff said, looking at his cousin as Caleb handed him a box of shells.
All of Kelly’s relatives stood together, as one, waiting for Brannon to make his decision. He understood Braxton’s stand. Not a blood kin to those in danger, it was easy for him to separate himself, but Brannon was different. His family was targeted. They were the ones in danger. That made it personal for him and he was stuck in a difficult situation. On one side, there was the law he loved, and the other, his family. Micah knew which the deputy was going to choose, so when Brannon said the word, Micah dished out the orders, and the group moved out.
* * * *
He was running out of time. He had screwed up royally, and now if he did not get the fuck out of town soon, he knew they would find him. He figured something was up when all the men disappeared together from the hospital. Trailing them back to Treasure Cove and back to the scene of his victory, he did not count on the all the ex-military rejects converging with guns, offering their assistance.
The night Kelly and her lovers took off toward Celestial, he entered their farmhouse and planted a tiny listening device under the kitchen table. He knew if he waited long enough, he would get the chance, and when he listened to them make plans for working around the house, he knew it was going to be now or never. So packing up his brand new rifle, he headed out over the north ridge and waited until the time was right.
Just before noon, he took his shot and hit his mark.
He had finally done it.
One bitch down and four more to go.
He felt like shouting and having a little fun. The only problem with that was, lost in the excitement for finally doing something right, he forgot to pick up the casing he left behind, and now the fucking sheriff had his damn prints. The one time he decided not to wear gloves was going to cost him his freedom.
It did not take him long to locate his truck, and soon he was peeling down the road, headed back toward Silver Springs. All he needed to do was grab his gear and get the hell out of dodge. He would call the bitch later, once he was in the clear.
Listening to the police scanner for any new information was getting him nowhere. The town was silent. Nobody was out. Walking behind buildings he once strolled freely in front of, he now stuck to the shadows. Treasure Cove had become a ghost town. All the shops locked up tight, security systems activated, with everyone safe in their homes. He knew they were coming for him.
It was only a matter of time.
The long, quiet drive did nothing to ease the hard tension and worry he felt. Every car, every truck seemed to be following him. He was getting paranoid. He knew it.
He had just passed the five-mile sign for Silver Springs when his cell phone rang. Looking at the caller ID, he grimaced and just let the phone go to voice mail.
It was her, and she wanted her update.
He was beginning to hate that bitch. In addition, he regretted ever getting mixed up with that cunt. She was a true piece of work. A master deceiver and manipulator, she worked him over until he saw nothing but her and only her. Before he knew it, she had him doing her bidding and dirty work. His life revolved around her, and now, he was killing for her. It wasn’t that he minded doing the killing, but he had massive issues when it interfered with his plans of freedom.
Of course, he blamed her for everything. If she hadn’t been so damn insistent, he would have been able to plan better and would have not made that stupid mistake. Moreover, that was all it was, a stupid fucking mistake, which was going to cost him dearly.
Pulling into the Super 8 motel on the outskirts of Silver Springs, he parked his truck and headed for his room. Figuring he could grab his shit and leave within minutes, he hurried, not caring who would be watching.
He really hated small towns. They had eyes everywhere.
Grabbing his duffel, he quickly emptied the drawers, throwing everything he brought into the large bag. Making sure he did not leave anything behind, he scanned the small room one more time. Satisfied he had everything, he picked up the bag and turned to leave, only to find her standing in the doorway.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going, asshole?”
* * * *
Braxton Connelly sat at his desk, watch
ing and waiting for the fax machine, his e-mail, or the phone to ring. He had gotten the text message from his friend, Landon Michaels, down at the FBI in Helena, simply saying, Fingerprints have a match, will send info soon.
Braxton had met Landon when they both attended the University of Montana. While Braxton studied girls, Landon actually studied books. Roommates since their freshman year, it was Landon that helped Braxton graduate, and it was Braxton that helped Landon meet his first and only girlfriend. Over the years, they remained friends, and on occasion, sought each other out for help. The only problem was Braxton needed help now.
Checking his phone again, he felt like cursing his college friend. A lot was riding on finding Margaret’s killer and not just his job. It had taken him and Brannon threatening Caleb that if he interfered in any way with the investigation he was going to throw his ass in jail. Of course, that did nothing, which forced Braxton to have the new kid, Rafe Anderson, sit out at the JC Ranch and babysit the Hicks brothers.
Rafe was a good kid, just green. When Braxton took off to England to help Gabriel sort the mess with the town charter, the town of Treasure Cove decided they needed another body to help Brannon Kincade, so they hired Rafe right out of the academy. He was at the top of his class, ex-military, and from Silver Springs. Other than that, he was just pure useless. Braxton did not know what he was going to do with the quiet, reserved boy.
Thumbing through an old magazine, he looked up at the clock and sighed.
Two hours. It had been two hours since he had received that damn text, and still nothing. Getting to his feet, he began pacing, wondering what was keeping his friend, when the door to the sheriff’s station opened.
“Grab your gear. We gotta go. They already have a head start.”
Braxton did not waste any time. He grabbed his jacket and hat and was out the door. Getting into the front seat of the unmarked car, he had just put his seatbelt on when his friend sped off.
“Well, Landon, who is it?” he asked.
“You will never believe it if I told you. Here,” his friend replied, handing him a yellow folder as he sped down the road. Braxton opened the file and started reading. Skimming the technical mumbo jumbo, he flipped to the last page and cursed loudly, “That motherfucker is still alive!”
“Shocked the shit out of me, too. That’s why I didn’t call. I knew you were gonna need my help. I brought what I could, and the FBI is setting up roadblocks. Don’t worry, Brax. We will catch him this time, and when we do, he is going to jail for a very long time,” Landon said, stepping on the gas.
“You said they have a head start. Who?” Braxton asked, reading the rest of the report.
“The Treasure Cove vigilante mob. Checkpoint three called in when a caravan of vehicles passed them before they put up the checkpoint, heading toward Silver Springs. Oh, and they told me to tell you that a sheriff vehicle was with them.”
“Fuck!” Braxton cursed, reaching for his cell phone, dialing Brannon’s number. When the phone went straight to voice mail, Braxton threw his phone on the floorboard and said, “Floor it. If they get to him before we do, they will have all the fun.”
Neither of them said another word for the rest of the drive. Braxton had too much on his mind as he started reading the file from the beginning. He still could not believe the bastard was alive. Everything, the charter, the town, the lies and deceit, he was the cause of everything. He was the backdoor to the underwriter, the henchman, the muscle, and for what, the money? A rich piece of ass?
Braxton still could not believe what he was reading. Everything was all beginning to make sense. From the start, it was all about the money. Everyone knew there was no love between Isabella Romanov and Glenn McKenzie. Hell, none of the Romanov women truly loved their husbands, except for Anne, who married her high school sweetheart.
However, the rest, they all married for power. Tatiana married the richest cattle rancher, Margaret married the richest farmer, and Sophie married the richest miner. Isabella was going to marry the Jenkins brothers, their family controlling the water rights, but human nature kicked in, and she could not wait until the wedding night, getting pregnant before she could get them in front of a judge. Therefore, her sisters stepped in and found her a replacement, sealing her fate forevermore to Glenn McKenzie.
The whole town knew why Isabella married Glenn, and so did Glenn. However, what none of them ever suspected was that Glenn McKenzie had his own plan, and the moment he placed the ring on Isabella’s finger, his plan started rolling.
With an inside track into the wealthiest families of Treasure Cove, Glenn was privy to the inner workings of the town, the charter, and most importantly, the money, money that no one saw or even knew about until recently. He lived a good life thanks to his wife and her family.
Then the night of the fire, his life changed. No longer free to roam and spend his days drinking and whoring around, Glenn did what he was born to do, survive by any means necessary.
According to the report, Glenn disappeared after the fire. Changing his name and working odd jobs for a couple of years, he tried to live under the radar. That was until he hooked up with an unknown woman. All the photos in the file showed Glenn talking, sitting, or meeting a tall woman, who never showed her face.
“Who’s the woman?” Braxton asked as he studied a photo.
“We we’re hoping you might be able to shed some light. The bureau believes she is from the area. That is why she is never far from here. We have tried running facial recognition on her, but nothing comes up. Just when we think we finally have her, she disappears. She is a chameleon. She blends into her surroundings better than cow shit on the prairie,” Landon informed him. Looking at the photo, Braxton had the funniest feeling that he knew this woman. Her body seemed familiar to him.
“What does the Bureau want with her?” he asked as he continued reading the file.
“She is wanted for bank fraud, embezzlement, and murder. That woman has married two of the most influential men in banking. After the honeymoon, she gets her husband to transfer a large amount of money to an offshore account, one we cannot trace, and then she kills them. She is a black widow.”
“How did she hook up with Glenn?”
“That’s the million-dollar question. That is also why we think she is from this area. The few times we have caught them together, they seem comfortable, as if they’ve known each other a long time,” Landon explained.
“Well, I wouldn’t worry about it too much longer. As soon as Glenn is in custody, the Bureau can ask him all the questions you want, right after he confesses to killing Margaret,” Braxton said, closing the file. He did not want to read anymore. Nor did he care to.
The only thing he wanted to do was to get to his friends and family before they did anything stupid, but mainly he wanted to be there and watch as they killed that bastard.
For years, the town of Treasure Cove had lived under a cloud. All because of one fateful night that started a chain of events that rocked the town still today. Because of one man, families were forever destroyed. His father lost his job and subsequently died shortly after. So many questions answered. Tonight, Braxton was finally going to get those answers, and then he was going to personally see to it that that bastard never saw the light of day again.
Tonight, Glenn McKenzie was really going to die.
Chapter Twelve
She hurt everywhere. So much so that the thought of even opening her eyelids caused her head to hurt, which made her body ache as if just dragged through an open field by a runaway horse, something she knew all too well. It was a never-ending cycle of pain and frustration because all she wanted to do was to make sure that Micah and Daniel were okay. Her last memory of them was the anguish etched on their faces. She hoped to remove that look with a kiss if she could open her damn eyes and see them.
Hoping if she relaxed her body enough, the pain would not be so intense, she took a long slow breath.
It didn’t work.
She s
till felt like shit.
She felt Micah’s and Daniel’s hands as each held one of hers. She wished they would say something, but her silent men did not. Trying desperately to forget about the pain, she slowly opened her eyes.
The room was dark, but the lights from the many machines, illuminated the bed around her. She was in a hospital, that she was sure of. Why she was there, she did not know, but figuring since she could feel all her extremities and she was breathing on her own, it could not be that bad. Gently turning her head, she saw Daniel, holding her hand as his head rested next to it. He was asleep. He looked utterly exhausted and filthy. Looking on her other side, she saw Micah doing the very same thing, and even he looked as if he could use a shower.
Just when she was about to say something, Daniel’s head shot up, and she looked into his soulful caramel eyes. Worry etched his face.
“Angel?” she heard him whisper, and all Kelly could do was offer him a small smile. When she tried to speak, she could not. Something was prohibiting her from doing so. Removing her hand from his, she winced as she raised her hand to her mouth. She stopped when she felt the plastic tube. Looking directly at Daniel, she pleaded, asking him with her eyes, what was going on?
“You were shot, Kelly. Try not to move,” he said, softly touching her face. “Doc was able to remove the bullet. It missed your heart, which is a good thing, but it did break a couple of ribs and punctured a lung. You’re gonna be sore and tired for a while, but you’re gonna live.”
I was shot! Who shot me? Why? Is the bastard dead? Too many questions entered her mind, and it was starting to give her a headache.
“Don’t think about it, angel. We will tell you everything when you are better. Just sleep and heal. Micah and I are not going anywhere.”
Nodding, she gave him a slow grin and closed her eyes once more. However, no matter how hard she tried, she could not get back to sleep. There were too many unanswered questions, and she wanted, no, needed the answers.
Kelly's Heroes [The Men of Treasure Cove 6] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 17