Stetsons and Stakeouts

by BA Tortuga

  “Whataburger is proof there’s a God and He loves us.”

  “And it’s open late. I was going to bring back bags of it. What’s your favorite?”

  “There? The patty melt. Oh my God. That’s the best.”

  “I like those. I love the barbecue chicken sandwich too, but my favorite is the honey butter chicken biscuit.” Gianni smacked his lips. “Those are good, yeah. I ate a lot of those on the road.”

  “I bet.” Bonner watched as that grape went round and round between Gianni’s fingers. “You want…?”

  No. No, Bonner. Don’t you dare.

  Gianni glanced up, looking oddly young and eager. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to ask, Bonner. Would I jump at the chance to get out of here and let everyone stop treating me like glass? Hell yes.”

  “I can bring my truck around.” He was an idiot. He knew it.

  “Dio. Thank you.” Gianni rose, and to his credit, he was a little unsteady. Not faking it. The plate went back into the fridge.

  “Get you another water.”

  “I will if you get the truck. It will be easier if I can jump in and not have to scoot. Colt will try to stop me if he sees me leaving.”

  “I’ll drive around.” He sort of wanted to pop Colt in the nose.

  “Thanks.” Gianni brushed the back of his hand with warm fingers as he went by.

  God, he was a moron. Christ. Like a full-blown, fresh-off-the-turnip-truck, limp-dick moron.

  Still there he went to the truck and hopped in, didn’t he? Took just a few seconds to get it to Gianni’s back door, and even less time for Gianni to buckle into the passenger seat. They headed down the drive at a nice clip, bouncing along, the radio singing away. By the time they were on the main road, speeding toward the Whataburger, Gianni was grinning and humming along with Luke Bryan. “If a bunch of federales with guns come hunting me, you’re fired, boss.”

  “Nah. Well, at least I should hope not. Maybe I’ll offer to bring shit home on the way back.”

  “Maybe.” Maybe they could go get a beer. Or a hotel room.

  Gianni grinned over at him like the man knew what he was thinking. Maybe he did.

  “You want to go in or drive thru?”

  “Well, that depends, caro. Are we just going to eat?”

  He glanced at Gianni’s still pale face. “I think so, yeah. You look like you feel like shit.”

  “I’ve been better. Then again, I’ve been a lot worse.” Gianni sighed. “Still, I’d love to eat in, since I’m not up to any kind of gymnastics.”

  “No. No gymnastics.” This was a blessing because Bonner didn’t need to keep on the way he had.

  He needed to be smart about this. Keep his head on right. Think. This wasn’t real. And it was even less real now.

  “You’re thinking hard,” Gianni murmured. “Always dangerous.”

  “I’m not all that bright, man. I’m just focusing on work.”

  “I was being a shit.” Gianni chuckled.

  “No worries. You’ve had a week.”

  “I’m always kind of a shit.” Gianni chortled. “You’re just too polite.”

  He was a cowboy. He may not have been raised right, but he’d learned. Fast. Polite saved your teeth.

  Gianni maybe didn’t know as much about getting hit that hard. In the face. Gianni was awful pretty. In fact, Bonner remembered the first time he’d seen Gianni, his heart stopped. Honestly, he’d felt his heart stutter and his breath catch, but really, what did he know about the guy?

  Gianni was Italian, but he wasn’t. He was a playboy, but what? A cop? A fed? A rancher that never came home? He had a feeling he was going to find out, despite his resolution to be distant and uninvolved.

  Whatever it was, it was more interesting than him.

  “Hey.” Gianni put a hand on his leg. “If you’re really uncomfortable, we can go through the drive thru.”

  “Uncomfortable with what? You know how many guys I sat with in the Whataburger?”

  “I meant with me. I don’t want you to be, but you seem tense.” Gianni rubbed at the fabric of his jeans.

  “I guess I am tense. I’m just…. It’s been a few days.” In a row.

  “Yeah. This whole biker thing was a raw deal.”

  That laugh made him shiver. Intimate, like Gianni was sharing a joke with just him.

  “Yeah.” And somehow it was his fault because he’d brought Bri here. He shook his head. “I feel bad.”

  “Don’t. Let Colt have the guilt. He has enough for all of us.” The Whataburger came into sight, and Bonner actually grinned. Yay patty melt. Maybe a shake instead of a beer. By the time they ate and he took Gianni back home, it would be late for heading back to town. That could be okay. He was actually pretty happy right now.

  He pulled into the parking lot, turned off the engine. “You ready?”

  “I am. I’m ravenous all of a sudden. Remind me to pace myself.” Gianni stepped out of the truck, looking around like a cop.

  “Uh-huh. Start with one. If you want a second, I’ll buy you one.”

  “Oh, now there’s a promise.” Gianni touched his hand again as they came around the truck to walk inside. Just a tiny electric contact.

  “Yessir.” Christ. Would he ever not flare up at that touch?

  Probably not. He just needed to learn to control it. Not give in to it every time Gianni crooked a finger. He wasn’t so stupid as to think this would lead to anything. Gianni wasn’t any more real than he was.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “WHAT THE hell is wrong with you?” Alison snapped. For a minute Gianni thought she was talking to him, and he was just sitting with his coffee and his croissant, ignoring everyone. He hadn’t done anything.

  Then he realized she was talking to Greg, who was tapping out a tempo on the counter while he waited for more coffee to run.

  “What’s wrong with me? Nothing is happening! We got nothing. I’m bored.”

  “We’re all bored. Why don’t you run down to the biker bar and ask them to do something nice like give themselves up.”

  “Fine.” Greg slapped his hand on the counter. “It’s better than sitting on my ass around here.”

  “Then take out the ATV and look for more shit in the back pastures,” Alison snarled. “The rest of us are working our asses off.”

  Whoa. Someone was getting a little tired liaising with the local LEOs, Gianni thought. A sharp rap came to the kitchen door, Bonner standing there, pale as milk.

  Gianni was on his feet and across to Bonner in seconds. “What? What is it, caro?” He reached for Bonner’s arm.

  “I need to talk to you. Alone.”

  “Of course.” He sent a warning glare to all and sundry before pulling Bonner out on the porch. “What is it? Colt can’t hear out here.”

  “There’s a hand. One of the dogs brought it up to the barn. Someone’s hand.” Bonner stared at him, a dull horror in his eyes. “You’d best call the sheriff.”

  “Shit. Okay. Come in and sit down. I’ll make you some tea.” Sugar was what Bonner needed. He was shocky. “Where is it? The barn?”

  “I put the dogs out and shut the doors. I had to touch it to get it out of Lucky’s mouth.”

  “Okay. Okay.” God, poor Bonner. Most folks never had to encounter bodies or body parts. “Inside.” He took Bonner back inside, barking orders as soon as he was in the kitchen. “Greg, there’s at least part of a DB in the barn. Bonner says the dogs brought in a hand. That means Harrison and Kody need to be out hunting the rest. Colt, call in Chris. I want someone out there now. We need to preserve what we can.”

  Alison grabbed Bonner. “Come on. Let’s get you out of here.”

  “I need to wash my hands.”

  “He can go up to my room and take a shower. I’ll be up in a bit. If you need me, just text. You have your phone?” When Bonner nodded, he mouthed at Alison, “Don’t leave him alone.”

  “On it.”

  Bonner was shocky, shaken. “I got
to wash up and get to the house. Bri’s there.”

  “I’ll send someone to make sure she’s okay. If you want, I can bring her up here for the afternoon. Colt, call Hank and tell him I want him and Mr. Franklin at the bunkhouse until the sheriff has been and gone.” Gianni looked at Bonner again. “Or she could go to Jerilyn’s? Have a swim. Luis can take her and watch them both.”

  “What about Miss Alison? Shouldn’t we make sure she’s safe?”

  “She’s right here at the house. She’s going to take you upstairs, then work in the office.” She could make her calls from up there. He needed to have a welfare on Xavvy, and someone needed to arrange fingerprinting and forensics.

  Christ, what if it was Xavvy?

  He couldn’t think that now. Xavvy was poised to step up in the gang, not down. No, it had to be the schmuck who thought they could steal from some sort of cartel. Bonner was still standing there, and he glared at Alison, who sighed. “Come on, Bonner. I’ll show you to the bathroom so you can wash up. The sheriff will want to talk to you, but you can rest upstairs until then.”

  Bonner nodded and followed along, hands held carefully away from his body.

  Maria was in the laundry room, so Gianni went to ask a favor. Or a dozen. “Maria, my love. We have a bit of a crisis. Can you help?”

  “Por supuesto. What do you need?”

  “Hot tea. Iced tea. Coffee. Sandwiches. We’re gonna have a lot of folks in and out.” He was ticking things off in his head. No thinking about Xavvy or Bonner, either one.

  “Sí señor.” She bustled in and got to work as Gianni’s phone started blowing up.

  He yanked it out. “Colt. Talk to me.”

  “Luis is on the way down to get the sister. Greg is at the barn. Large hand, man’s. Callused. Sheriff is on the way. I called the cowboy up at your aunt’s. He’s with her now, waiting on Luis and the girl.”

  “Good deal. You have eyes on Xavvy?”

  “No.” Colt sounded tense. Gianni didn’t blame him. “As soon as I do, I’ll comm. He slipped the guy I had on him. If you can find Mason, he can do prelim on the forensics.”

  “Gotcha. I’ll hunt his ass down.” How did Colt not know where the guy was?

  He let Colt go and dialed Mason. Come on, asshole. Answer.

  “What you need, Cesare?”

  “I have a severed hand in the barn. Where you at?” He hoped Mason had a kit.

  “I’ll be right there.” Click.

  Wait. Wait, that wasn’t an answer. Still, he would put Mason on the job. He would be a better pathologist than anyone Chris could provide. He sent a text to Tom, then waited for Mason to show so they could head out.

  Mason trundled in about three minutes later. “Where?”

  “Barn. Come on.”

  “Face looks better.”

  “Gee thanks, Doc.” He shook his head, but started out the back with Mason on his heels.

  “Anytime.” Mason followed along, whistling something Gianni couldn’t recognize. “You said the foreman found it? Did he touch it?”

  “Yeah. He had to wrestle it away from the dogs.” Gianni knew that had to have been traumatic.

  “Oh, that sounds like fun.” Mason’s nose actually wrinkled. “Remind me not to let him lick me.”

  “Who? Bonner?” Gianni had to tease. Had to.

  “I thought that was your job.” He had to hand it to Mason. The man could deliver a comeback in a voice that was dry as dust.

  “It is. You mean the dog, then. They’re locked out of the barn. Jesus, at least it wasn’t one of my Danes.”

  Greg let them into the barn, his face grim. “Man. Tattooed ring. Removed at the wrist. Handsaw.” Greg waved them over to a folding table set up under a light. Mason nodded, pulling up the bag he held. Gianni hadn’t even seen it.

  “Jesus. That’s never going to stop being gross as fuck, is it?”

  “Nope.” Mason snapped latex gloves into place. “Someone will need to get fingerprints from Bonner. To exclude him.”

  The temptation to shoot back with “But Bonner had both his hands” was huge. He didn’t do it, but he wanted to. “Sure. Let me call Ali.”

  “Get his DNA too.” Bonner was going to love that.

  “Shit. I’ll do it. Just give me your first impressions.”

  “Hand was removed postmortem. You’re looking for pieces-parts, I’m betting. Male. Oil under the nails. Wedding ring’s been removed.”

  He slumped a little. “Not Xavvy.”

  “No. This man’s got dirt and oil ground in. Mechanic?”

  “Maybe. More likely motorcycle enthusiast.” Greg sighed, catching his gaze. “Got my excitement, didn’t I? Damn.”

  “Looking for more to do, son?” Mason rolled his eyes. “You got your wish. Regardless, this unfortunate asshole is not my patient from the jail.”

  “Good. Good.” He watched Mason a moment longer. “Greg. Hang out here. I’m going to go get our samples.”

  “You got it. I’ll keep him company.”

  “Thanks. Holler if anything really interesting pops up.” He headed out of the barn, shooing away one of Hank’s border collies. Not even his barn dogs, then. They’d been mostly at Jerilyn’s, because she fed them. Okay. He needed to focus on getting Bonner settled and to give up his information. This wasn’t going to be fun.

  He stopped in the war room they’d created on the way up to gather supplies. Fingerprints and DNA. Right. Christ, he had a headache. He was getting damn tired of having a headache. He trudged up the stairs to his room and knocked lightly. “Bonner?”

  “Yeah. Miss Alison asked me to hang out. She’s checking on Bri.” Bonner was sitting at the window in the spare ladder-back chair.

  “Hey. Good deal. Bri can go stay with Jerilyn. They’ll get on fine.” He walked over to Bonner to squat down. “You okay?”

  “That was something no one ought to ever see.” Bonner looked calm now, though.

  “No. I reckon not. I have to ask you for some stuff.”

  “Okay? What?” Bonner sighed for him.

  “We need to exclude your fingerprints. The doc would like to exclude your DNA, as well.” He knew a lot of cowboy folk would object to both of those on principle.

  Bonner looked at him, head-on. “You gonna tell me why you know how to take fingerprints and DNA, boss?”

  “Because I’m a federal agent, Bonner. I have been for a long time.” That was enough of the truth for now. If Bonner wanted to see his ID, the guy had a right.

  “Yeah. I reckoned. You can have my fingerprints. No problem. I’m not giving the government my DNA.”

  “Okay. We might have to discuss it again if they find foreign DNA on the hand.” Hell, he could afford to send it to a private lab.

  “If it comes to that. Too bad you didn’t know the other day. You coulda got it off the sheets.”

  “I could have gotten it off me.” Gianni grinned a little, because damn, that had been good.

  “There you go.” Bonner looked up at him with a half grin. “What do you need me to do, man?”

  “Just sit tight and I’ll do it.” He opened the bag he’d brought out. Some of the guys had a phone app for quick sends, but he would do a paper roll in case he didn’t have to turn them in…. Bonner made him feel protective.

  “Sure.” Bonner nodded once. “Once we’re done here, I’ll go check on all the horses.”

  “Good idea. Hank and Mr. Franklin are at the bunkhouse. I want you to take one of them with you. We’re buddy system until further notice.”

  “Sure.” Bonner watched him closely, so quiet.

  “Good man.” He glanced up, meeting Bonner’s eyes. “You might have some bad dreams.”

  “No worries. I got this. I’m a cowboy.”

  “I know. I’m just saying, if you want to stay here with me tonight….” Gianni genuinely made the offer with no strings attached.

  “Thank you.” Bonner chuckled softly. “We’ll see. I bet you’re busy.”

  “We all
have to sleep. Say you’ll think about it.” He took Bonner’s hand in his, ready to cover those clean fingers with ink.

  “I’ll think about it. I swear.”

  “Bene.” He took both hands worth of fingerprints, then gave Bonner a paper towel. Those poor hands had been scrubbed to death; soon they would just be raw skin.

  “Good deal. I’m going to go get some work done.”

  “Take Hank. I mean it.” Gianni didn’t want Bonner alone. “The main barn is closed off.”

  “I’ll find one of them. You be careful, huh?”

  “I will.” Gianni hated to let Bonner walk away, but he did have a million things to worry about.

  “Good deal.” Bonner waved one hand, and then he disappeared like smoke.

  He watched the doorway for a long moment, then climbed to his feet. Jesus, he was feeling old. His phone started ringing, and he grabbed it. Jerilyn. “Hey, lady.”

  “I have Bri. Are we safe? Should I take her to Dallas?”

  “I think you’re good. You have Luis, and he’s exceptional. I think Dallas might be worse. Here we can keep you in our sights.”

  “All right. I’m going to just put her in the pink room. Poor baby doesn’t need any stress.”

  “No, she needs soup and ice cream and bad movies. She can sew. Did I tell you?”

  “Can she? I’ll talk to her, then. She needs a profession to support those babies.”

  “I know. I already asked her if I could tell you, so feel free.” He felt like Bri was his responsibility now. Somehow they all were.

  “You are a canny pup,” she teased. “Keep me updated.”

  “You got it, Zia.”

  He stared out the bedroom window, seeing Bonner heading toward the bunkhouse.

  “You sound distracted, son. Don’t let it get you killed.”

  “I promise. No dead.”

  “Good boy. Love you.” The line went dead, and he sighed deeply.

  “Okay, Cesare. Back to work.” If he didn’t keel over, maybe he could get Bonner to snuggle with him tonight.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  BONNER SPENT his day working as hard as he could, pushing himself before he went back to the little empty house and crawled into the shower. Micah had texted, Bri had texted—they were all fine and ensconced in Jerilyn’s house. All the others—the cops and the feds and all—were like ants around the place.