Stetsons and Stakeouts

by BA Tortuga

  “I want Four-Fingers.” The little pocket roper didn’t look a thing like an electronics expert, and he would rock this job. Gianni loved working with his crazy ass.

  Alison, on the other hand…. “Is Colt allowed to leave DC? I’m fairly sure he’s a felon in Texas.”

  “This applies as a special case.” Gianni grinned, waggling his eyebrows.

  “Requisition him. You’re responsible for keeping him under control.” Tom snapped the clasps on his briefcase, which meant he was done talking.

  “Great.” Alison pinched Gianni’s arm. “Now you have us with the worst hacker in the whole of existence.”

  “The best, you mean.”

  “He’s a fucking psycho, Caesar.”

  “I know.” That craziness was one of his favorite things of all time. “I’ll deal with him. You can liaise with the other agents.”

  “That’s fair. You hungry?”

  “Starving.” He could eat a side of beef. Get his Texas on.

  “Rock on. Tacos or brisket?”

  This was why they were partners. She understood food. “Brisket. Not that we won’t get that at home.”

  “I’m all in. There’s no such thing as too much brisket.”

  “Coleslaw,” Gianni said, grabbing his jacket.

  “Beans and potatoes. Woo.” She grabbed hers as well, covering her shoulder holster with ease. Walking away from a supervisor was always a relief. Gianni preferred to fly without too much supervision. He was going to have so much fucking fun it hurt at the ranch. His grin ached, it was so wide.

  “It’s obscene, you know.”

  “What is?” He glanced at Alison, wondering what she was going to get on him about now.

  “The joy you’re taking in this whole thing. Absolutely obscene.”

  “What?” He tried for innocent. “We’re ridding the world of a dangerous cartel drug enforcement gang.”

  “Totally. We’re the good guys.” She paused for effect. “Mostly.”

  “Yep.” He rubbed his hands together, laughing like a movie villain. He hadn’t been so ready to visit home in ages.

  Chapter Four

  BONNER STARED at his sister, who was at least as big as a house. “You’re sure there’s only two in there?”

  “Shut up.”

  “Because seriously, I’m thinking you might be the next octomom. Jesus, Brianna, what were you thinking?” He knew the answer to that. She hadn’t been thinking. No one was thinking at times like those.

  “That he was a good lay and he made me excited.”

  “Oh. Oh ew. Bleach. Someone bleach my brain!”

  For a pregnant chick, she could hit hard. He rubbed his stinging arm and glared right back when she scowled at him.

  “Well, he’s not so exciting now, is he?” Bonner had spent the morning researching restraining orders. “Did you find me a job?”

  “There’s a call for a garbage collector.”

  He shot her a glare. “Try harder.”

  “There’s not a lot a rodeo cowboy qualifies for.”

  “Hey! I was doing okay.”

  “Define okay.”

  Oh, he was going to kill her dead. “Not knocked up by a violent offender, homeless, or unemployed.”

  “Shut. Up. I will give you a titty twister.” Tears filled Brianna’s eyes. “What if he comes here, Bubba?”

  “Well, one, if he dares to show up, I’ll kick his motherfucking—sisterfucking, whatever—ass. Two, there’s a reason why we’re fixin’ to move, right? We’ll lie low for a bit, breathe, make a better plan than sell the babies to the gypsies, and make this work.”

  “I called Momma.”

  “Oh for fuck’s sake. Why?” He loved his mom. He did. But she was… well, flighty, to put the kindest word to it, and out of her goddamn mind, if he called a spade a spade.

  “She’s Momma, and I’m pregnant.”

  “So?” What was Momma gonna do? Lay hands? Light a stick of good fortune incense? Fuck.

  “A girl wants advice.”

  Bonner rolled his eyes so hard they did a full revolution. “Did she read your cards?”

  Brianna went full-on bright red. “No!”

  “Don’t fucking lie.” That flush told him all he needed to know. The fact that she was denying it boded real fucking ill.

  “She says the world as we know it is going to end.”

  “Neat.” Jesus.

  Bri nodded, tears filling her eyes again in a heartbeat. “It was all swords and major arcana. The Tower. That kind of shit.”

  “It’ll be okay, honey. We’ll find a job, somewhere to go until you can figure out what to do. I won’t desert you or the babies.”

  “I know, Bubba. I know. I’m just so scared. I don’t want to see him.”

  “He shows up here, I’ll remind him that I’m meaner than a two-thousand-pound bull.” He wasn’t no coward, biker or not. How tough could a motherfucker named Snake be, for fuck’s sake?

  “You don’t get it, Bubba. He has a whole gang.” She was starting to panic. She was looking like a skittish foal around the eyes.

  “And you knew this before he knocked you up,” he bit out. “Breathe.”

  “I think he’s involved in drugs,” she whispered.

  “Jesus, Bri. Were you doing drugs with him?”

  “No! I just think he’s a bad man.” Now the tears ran over and spilled on her cheeks.

  “Well….”

  “Bubba!”

  “Sorry. Sorry. Come here, you dork. We’ll fix this. We will.” He had zero idea how, really, but he would figure it.

  “I have to go. I can’t stay here in Arlington. I need to… I need to….”

  “Chill. We’ll manage.” He rocked her as she cried. He got it. She was nineteen, knocked up by a druggie biker, and her best bet at salvation was a rodeo cowboy brother with a five-year-old truck and two bull ropes to his name.

  They were deep in the shit. Deep.

  He wasn’t gonna let her down, though. “Did you read the want ads?”

  “Sort of. There’s a bunch of manufacturing shit, some construction if you’re serious about getting out of the city.”

  “Honey, I have spent my entire adult life trying to avoid cities.”

  “I know. Freak.” She sniffed. “Still, Snake wouldn’t come to Bum Fuck, right?”

  “Right. Show me what you found.” Construction he could do.

  She handed him the Morning News classifieds. Lord have mercy. Look at all the words. He grinned. Focus, asshole. Yeah, okay, there were half a dozen things he could check into.

  Oh.

  Oh, agriculture. Dude. Foreman. Way up north. That would mean a house, a job, distance. Dude.

  “Did you see this, Bri? It comes with housing.” He handed her the paper.

  “Mount Pleasant. Now that’s BF Nowhere.”

  “Isn’t that what we need? The sticks?” Bonner asked. She could have the babies, live somewhere affordable.

  “Yes. Yes, it is.”

  “Now, that’s a pretty conservative area.” Bonner was thinking out loud. “That’s good, right? No room for Snake?” She was looking more cheerful. “Yeah. No room for queer cowboys there.”

  “Bubba, there’s no room on earth for queer cowboys.”

  “Fuck off.” He chuckled. “I’ll call. If they say no, I can look at construction. I ain’t a genius, but how hard can it be?”

  “I have no idea. What do I know about ranches?”

  “Well, uh.” When he thought about it, he probably knew more than her. He’d stayed with Dewey Rockford in Greenville, right? Dewey’s folks had forty-five acres. He’d done fine, riding fence and getting the barn put back together.

  He could do this.

  Feeling hellacious better, he grabbed his cell and headed out to the parking lot. He didn’t want Bri listening because that would make him nervous and she would laugh if he lied. That could be a disaster. He put on his best “there’s cameras here” persona and cleared his throat aft
er he dialed.

  Yeah, he could do this.

  Chapter Five

  GIANNI WATCHED the team file into the conference room at the Dallas Division office.

  Tom had called in quite a diverse range of characters for this production they were fixin’ to put on. Colt and Alison were DEA like him, but in Texas you had to coordinate with the federal and local LEOs, including, God help him, the Texas Rangers.

  Hell, they were even going to have a member of Border Patrol on the team. This was going to be so much fun.

  He almost rubbed his hands together with glee, but Alison’s glare stopped him. Such a killjoy, that woman.

  “Be good,” she mouthed.

  “I am!” he stage-whispered.

  “No, you’re not. If you had a mustache, you’d be twirling it.”

  “You’ve seen what happens when I grow a ’stache. It looks like a colony of asps have taken up residence on my face.”

  “Aren’t you supposed to be all Latin lovery, Caesar?”

  “I’m amazing without facial hair.” He winked, waiting for the last guy to settle. The Ranger, he would guess, judging from the hat.

  He had to admit, the man could work that hat, and the eye lines? Yummy.

  He would get his ass handed to him if he said so. “Is that everyone?” Tom asked, and his assistant nodded. “Good deal. Help yourself to coffee and danish and shit. Cesare, front and center.” He resisted the urge to salute, manfully. Instead, he stood, then strolled to the front of the room. Where he got a coffee, making them all wait. Gianni sucked at being ordered about.

  “Cesare…,” Tom growled.

  God, if the man swung his way, they could totally tag team some happy twink. The guy was… formidable.

  He turned around and grinned. Time to surprise them and get his Texas on. “Morning, y’all. I’m Gianni Cesare. I’m sure you know, to some extent, why you’re here. There’s a drug operation working off the I-30 corridor. We think we have a sting that will find some of the principal players. Can I get introductions?”

  The Ranger raised a hand easily. “Kody Jewel. Texas Rangers.”

  “Are you serious?” Alison asked.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Those eyes landed on Alison, calm and focused and deadly as a snake’s.

  She sat back in her chair, eyes wide. It took a lot to get to his partner, but there was something about Kody….

  “Colt Givens.” Four-Fingers waved his, well, four-fingered hand. “IT.”

  “Roper?” Kody asked.

  “Yep.”

  “Roper, hacker, felon, caffeine addict….”

  “Don’t tell all my secrets, G,” Four-Fingers muttered.

  Gianni grinned. “I won’t tell them about the chicken mutilations.”

  Alison rolled her eyes. “Alison Dabo. DEA.”

  “Queen Bee and bitch extraordinaire. Rumor is she eats her young.”

  “Don’t make me cut your other ball off, Givens.” Butter wouldn’t melt in Alison’s mouth.

  The big guy at the end of the table smiled wide. “Harrison. Ma’am. Border Patrol. Pleased to meet you.”

  “Luis Gonzales. FBI.”

  “Greg Morton, ATF. So, what kind of sting are we talking?”

  Someone liked to get right down to business.

  “We have a line of drug traffic running through northeast Texas. We’ve run a number of busts in the DFW Metroplex, but they’re starting to diversify before they hit the mixmaster. We’re trying to trap them in two places—there’s a sting operation on 35 near Hillsboro and north on 30 in the Mount Pleasant area.”

  Gonzales widened his eyes dramatically. “And you need all of us, why?”

  Tom scowled. “Because the brass wants cooperation. The local LEOs will be notified on a case-by-case basis, but no one wants an undercover agent from one of the letters to get caught in the crossfire.”

  So Gonzales was going to be the smartass. Good to know.

  “I own the ranch that we’re basing out of. We’ll be interacting with the locals, so we’ll be functioning as a working ranch—there is a new foreman, a few cowboys, and a cook in the house. My aunt did the hiring.”

  “Your aunt a guido too?” Harrison asked, the slow smile never changing.

  “Nope. Jerilyn would pluck you bald-headed for asking,” Gianni drawled.

  Kody arched one eyebrow. “Sounds like a fine lady. Do we have an idea how they’re moving the product?”

  “From what my network says, there’s a distribution point close—in from Mexico, out to Oklahoma and Louisiana.” Four-Fingers had a tablet out and was typing at the speed of light.

  Greg nodded slowly. “Yeah, we’re seeing an upswing in firearm violations in the counties you’re targeting.”

  “If we set up a base, we can infiltrate the local economy and have some ears on the ground. Nothing this big can stay quiet for long.” Alison was with the plan now and ready to go. “We’ll go to the ranch in waves before the grand poobah shows up.”

  Everyone looked at Gianni, who grinned. “That’s me. I’m Eye-tal-eee-an and foreign, and God knows, they’re gonna think I do drugs. Anyone who can cowboy up can play wrangler, which means it won’t be odd for you to be on the acreage.”

  ATF Greg snorted. “And if we can’t?”

  “House staff, baybee.” Four-Fingers looked absolutely gleeful.

  “Staff….” Luis squinted. “Like what?”

  “Gardener.” Gianni said it with a damn straight face too.

  Luis fastened him with a look. “You’re not serious.”

  “I can’t think of anything a fibbie would be better qualified for…,” Kody drawled.

  Alison snorted. “At least I get to be the personal assistant, right?”

  “I was thinking you could feed me grapes.”

  “I’ll feed you your grapes, Caesar.” She looked at his balls, and he had to cover them with one hand.

  “Jesus, are you all insane?” Tom growled.

  “Who else would agree to having to live together in Nowhere, Texas?” Four-Fingers asked.

  “I haven’t agreed to it.” Luis crossed his arms over his chest. “The gardener?”

  “Look, I would do it if I could, but I’m the one people know.” Gianni waved a hand. “You could always be the chauffeur.”

  “I’m assuming Harrison and me are cowboying up,” Kody asked.

  “Add me to that,” Four-Fingers added. “I’m happier away from the main house.”

  “I’ll be personal security,” Luis said. “Fuckers. Gardener.”

  “Are you sure you can use a sidearm, fibbie?” Kody asked.

  “I’ll be the driver,” Greg intoned. “Unless you have a pool. I could totally be a pool boy.”

  “Aunt Jerilyn will have to look you over for that first.”

  Greg flexed for them, and even Alison stared. “Keep him away from Jerilyn, Gianni.”

  “No shit.” He shook his head. “She would eat you alive, son.”

  Greg laughed. “Bring it on. I love a cougar.”

  “Children, can we all get back to work?” Tom began handing out packets. “IDs, dossiers, background information.”

  “Sounds like fun. Guns, beer, horses.” Kody looked pleased. It was vaguely terrifying.

  Actually, what was terrifying was how well Kody was gonna get along with Gianni’s old high school buddies Chris and Xavier. That was going to be…. God, he hoped someone took video.

  “So, the location really is Cesare’s family ranch. This means there’s a lot of moving parts, and some people who really have to believe he’s lord of the manor or this won’t work.” Tom fastened his steely gaze on the group.

  “Right. Which means I’ll be channeling my father.” Gianni waited after that one, trying not to look at Alison.

  “Oh Christ. The Massimo syndrome.” Alison rolled her eyes. “His dad is actually a count or something.”

  “So, you’re playing Texan or Italian?” Kody asked. “It’s important.”

&
nbsp; “I’ll be Italian for this one. Imperious and accented. I have a few friends who know better, but most folks in town think I’ve been living in Italy for years.”

  “Cesare has a contact in local PD as well as retired Special Forces that will assist.”

  He nodded. “Chris Whitehead and Xavier Garcia.”

  “No shit? Man, you are connected.” Kody sounded impressed. He bowed, going for graceful, and Alison applauded. Slowly.

  “Stop.” He winked at her. “The one thing I will say is that my aunt also has a house on an adjoining property, and she’s refusing to leave. I will not have her hurt, so we have to make sure we have a secure situation as much as possible.”

  “Does she have private security?” Luis asked.

  “No. God, no. I mean, she has a home security system she never turns on because she has two Great Danes. That’s it.”

  “We can keep an eye from horseback. That’s easy enough.” Harrison didn’t sound worried.

  “I can patch into any cameras she has, any security systems.”

  He did love when Four-Fingers got devious. “Works for me.” Gianni moved back to his seat. “All right, let’s go over what we know.”

  He was almost stupidly excited to do this. Go home, play the Italian lord, see old friends, create drama, catch a bad guy.

  What could be better?

  Chapter Six

  “SO, MR. Fannin, you say you’re looking for work?”

  The temptation to snarl, That’s why I’m here, isn’t it? was huge, but that would be an asshole move, and God knew he needed this job, so he went with “Yes, ma’am.”

  “God, that was a stupid question. I’m sorry. I’ve interviewed about a hundred cowboys today, and my head is killing me.” Jerilyn Webb looked vaguely like the wardrobe from Beauty and the Beast somehow, but more deadly.

  She sure had Texas lady hair. He smiled at her, nodding easily. “You want a cup of coffee, Miz Webb? It always helps my people when they’re headachey.” He stopped short of saying his mom, even if she and Miz Webb were of an age.

  She stared for a second, and then the smile spread across her face. “God yes. Let’s go to the kitchen. I think there are cookies, even.”