Out of the Shadows (Renegades)

by Ana Stone

  “He’s in his office, sir” she replied, noting the sexy smile Franklin gave her. “Is he expecting you?”

  “That he is, Officer…” His eyes moved to the name tag on her left breast. “Quinn.”

  “Then right this way, sir.”

  She led the way to Chief Phillips office and tapped on the door.

  At the sound of “yeah?” from inside she opened the door. “Chief? Weston Franklin from NCS is here to see you.”

  “Oh? Well show him in,” Chief Phillips rose from his desk.

  She pushed open the door and stepped aside. “Sir,” she gestured for Franklin to enter.

  “Thank you, kindly, Officer Quinn.” Again came that sexy smile.

  Roxy nodded, waited for him to enter the Chief’s office then closed the door. For a few moments she stood in the hall, her mind in a whirl. What could the NCS want in Harmony if not something to do with the Renegades?

  She returned to her office, checking the clock on the wall. There was not much she could do now but wait and hope Chief Phillips filled her in.

  *****

  “West Franklin,” Chief Phillips offered his hand in greeting. “Never thought to see you in Harmony again.”

  “Life,” Franklin said with a slight shrug of his shoulders and clasped the Chief’s hand for a brief shake.

  “I heard you were recruited by the CIA,” the Chief said as he made his way back to his chair. “Please, sit.”

  “Thanks.” West took a seat in one of the chairs in front of the desk. “And yes, I was.”

  “So what’s the NCS?” Chief Phillips asked.

  “Division of the CIA. National Clandestine Services.”

  Chief Phillips nodded. “So, what brings the NCS to Harmony?”

  “Part of an ongoing investigation, Chief. We have reason to believe that the Renegades are running guns and supplying the Mexican Mafia with weapons.

  “The Mexican Mafia has recently gotten into bed with one of the South American Cartels – a cartel who just happens to be in association with known terrorists. I’m in charge of a task force that is setting up shop in Morehead City, but I like to be a little closer to the action, if you get my drift, so the NCS is faxing an official request for Harmony Police Department to allocate me space here.”

  Phillips’ mind was racing. If the Renegades really were supplying the Mexican Mafia with weapons then there was a good chance hell was going to rain down on Harmony. And on him.

  “Excuse me, West, but if what you say is true, wouldn’t it blow your cover to set up shop here?”

  Franklin chuckled. “I’m not under cover, Chief. Fact is I want the bad guys to know I’m coming for them. Way I see it, their greed will keep them operating and seeing just one agent will give them false confidence.”

  Phillips nodded. “Well, of course, we’re happy to allocate space. Always glad to help. When do you think you’re going to be ready to set up here?”

  “Now.” Franklin answered. “I’ve checked into the Harmony Inn. Bridal Suite.” He chuckled. “Seems it’s the only suite in the hotel. But it will do. You should be getting that fax any time now. Oh, and naturally the bureau will compensate for the space. What do you say … a thousand a month?”

  “Uh, yes, fine, fine.” Phillips was still mired in his own thoughts – namely how he was going to fly under the NCS’s radar and keep the MC from falling into Franklin’s net.

  “And I’ll be requiring the assistance of your deputies from time to time.”

  “We’re at your disposal.”

  “Well, then, I guess I will get out of your hair, Chief.” Franklin said and stood. “Appreciate your time and look forward to working with you.”

  “Yes, same here.” Phillips stood and shook Franklin’s hand.

  The moment Franklin left the office, Phillips picked up the phone.

  Roxy was running searches on the computer for information on Weston Franklin when he strolled into her office.

  “Officer Quinn,” he said and removed his hat. “Might I take up a few moments of your time?”

  “Certainly. Please have a seat, Agent Franklin.” She closed the search window on her computer.

  “West.” He gave her a smile as he took a seat.

  “Sir,” she acknowledged the offer with formality. “What can I do for you?”

  “Well, as it happens, we’re going to be working together, Officer Quinn.”

  “Sir?”

  He gave her another smile. “A task force has been set up in Morehead City. I’m establishing another command here in Harmony. Chief Phillips assures me the Harmony Police Force is at my disposal.”

  “Very well, sir.”

  “No need for such formality, Colonel.” He said with a sly smile.

  That jolted her. “Pardon?”

  “At ease, ma’am,” he said and chuckled. “Yes, I know all about you. You don’t think the NCS would come in without all the necessary background checks?”

  “No, I suppose not, sir.”

  “West,” he corrected again in a tone that invited more than professional courtesy.

  “West.” She capitulated. “What is it you need from me, sir?”

  “Just cooperation, Roxy. You don’t mind if I call you Roxy?”

  “No, sir. And I will be happy to assist you however I can.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that. So, Roxy, in the spirit of cooperation, would you consent to giving me a tour of the town?”

  “Certainly, sir. I just need to check with the Chief.”

  “Oh, I don’t think he will mind.”

  “Still…” She reached for the phone but stopped. It was easy to see from the lines lit on the phone’s base that the Chief was currently on a call. “He’s on a call.”

  “Well, I have time so while we wait, why don’t you fill me in on your perceptions of Harmony?”

  Despite the casual slouch of his body in the chair and the easy manner of the question, there was something in his eyes that sent up a red flag in her mind. West Franklin definitely had an agenda and whatever it was, he meant to accomplish it.

  The question for her was what was his agenda?

  Chief Phillips checked his watch as he spoke. “I’m coming over. See you in an hour.”

  He left his office and stopped by Roxy’s. “Agent Franklin, I thought you’d left.”

  “Just introducing myself to your force, Chief. Is that a problem?”

  “No, no of course not.” He looked at Roxy. “Deputy? I’m going to be out the rest of the afternoon. Hold down the fort.”

  “Yes, sir,” she responded.

  “Actually, I’d like to commandeer Officer Quinn to show me around town, Chief.” West spoke up. “Familiarize myself with the lay of the land.”

  Chief Phillips looked from him to Roxy and she could have sworn he looked decidedly nervous. “Tell Courtney he’s in charge while you assist Agent Franklin, Deputy.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Very good. Carry on, Deputy.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Roxy watched the Chief hurry out, wondering where he was headed. Renegades would be her bet. If it were not for West Franklin, she’d follow him to see.

  Then again, maybe she still could. West did say he wanted a tour of the town. But did she want West to see the Chief’s car parked at Renegades? That question changed her mind. She’d have to find another way to figure out if the Chief was letting the Renegades know West Franklin was there.

  “Well, since we now have the Chief’s okay…” West drew her attention.

  “Yes, of course.” She stood and picked up the keys to the squad car. “Let’s ride.”

  “By all means” he agreed.

  Their eyes met and in that moment Roxy was certain beyond all doubt that before it was over, riding was definitely going to be in their future and it had nothing at all to do with a car. What was so troubling about that thought was that she couldn’t help but wonder how it would affect things with Zeke. If she had no inten
tion of getting more deeply involved with Zeke why did it matter?

  *****

  Art pulled up behind the house and turned off the car. For a few moments he just sat there, looking out over the large expanse of yard to the harbor. It was a clear day; clear enough to see Harker’s Island on the other side of the bay.

  The house he was parked behind was a large wooden structure, its white paint pristine. Dark shutters flanked each window, not merely for decoration. In case of storms they could be closed and locked, offering protection.

  It was a large house set upon several acres of picture perfect landscaping. He couldn’t help but think that it would have made a grand place to raise a family. But it only called itself home to one resident, the person he was there to see. Maybelle Justice.

  Maybelle was Reese and Eli’s older sister, the oldest of the surviving Justice family. Never married, Maybelle had parlayed what she inherited from her maternal grandmother into a fortune. With post graduate degrees in economics and political science, she was shrewd, savvy and a force to be reckoned with in business or pleasure.

  By the time she was fifty, Maybelle owned over thirty marinas on the Eastern seaboard, coastal real estate in virtually every state on the east coast, and her import, export operation had become a multi-million dollar industry. Add in the fleet of ships she owned and she was part of the billionaire club.

  She had connections in every local and state government on the East Coast as well as a solid network with key Federal politicians. When it came to making money and amassing power, Maybelle left no stone unturned.

  Yes, she was a force to be reckoned with. She was also the only woman Art Phillips had ever really loved.

  Art climbed out of the car, walked to the back door and rapped on a glass pane.

  Maybelle knew he was there. She’d been upstairs in her home office and had seen him pull up. They had no appointment and had made no plans to meet, so his presence meant something of interest to her had occurred in Harmony.

  She quickly ended her call and was descending the curved staircase when she heard the knock at the door. Art was waiting on the porch, hat in hand when she opened the door.

  “Maybelle.”

  No matter how many people spoke her name, the sound of it falling from Art Phillips lips still sent a thrill rioting through her. Time had dulled, tainted, altered or destroyed so much in life, but not that.

  “Art, come in.”

  He entered and waited as she closed the door. “We have problems, honey.”

  She nodded. “Why don’t you wait for me in the parlor? I’m going to put on a pot of tea. I won’t be long.”

  Maybelle hurried to the kitchen and busied herself filling the tea kettle and putting it on the stove. Art wasn’t a man to overreact, so for him to say there were problems meant something greater than a disgruntled mayor.

  She leaned against the counter and watched the teapot, letting her mind move back through the years. She was twenty six when she met Art Phillips. She’d come home after earning her second doctorate, to take the fortune she’d inherited from her maternal grandmother and set about building her own empire.

  Her first order of business was buying a house and getting moved. When the furniture she purchased was delivered, a handsome young man named Art Phillips was part of the moving crew. Maybelle could still close her eyes and see him as he had looked that day. Tousled brown hair, lean body and eyes that could easily melt a girl’s heart.

  He had definitely melted her heart. Before her furniture was settled in her new house she wanted him. Before he left, she’d invited him back for dinner. Before the next morning she was in love.

  The whistle of the tea-kettle drew her back to the present. She prepared the tea, put everything on a tray and carried it to the parlor.

  Art waited until she’d poured the tea and taken a seat on the old-fashioned settee beside him before speaking. “Weston Franklin of the NCS showed up in Harmony today.”

  Maybelle frowned over the top of her teacup at him. “Clarify.”

  “NCS. Branch of the CIA. They’ve set up shop in Morehead City for a task force. Franklin is commandeering space in Harmony for himself.”

  “To what end?”

  “They have reason to believe that the Renegades are running guns and supplying the Mexican Mafia with weapons. Since, according to Franklin, the Mexican Mafia has recently gotten into bed with a South American Cartel that’s a known associate of some terrorist group, the NCS is here to – shut them down, I suppose.”

  Maybelle nodded. “And if he starts snooping not only will he discover the veracity of the club’s gun trade but their deal with the Mexicans in the meth operation.”

  “You know about that?”

  She chuckled. “Darling how long have you known me?”

  He smiled and reached over to put his hand on her knee. “Silly question, I guess. I just found out about it. Guess you were always one step ahead of me.”

  “Of everyone,” she replied. “But back to this Agent Franklin. I think we should check him out.”

  “He’s CIA, honey.”

  She shrugged. “There are always ways, Art. But perhaps you’re right. It might flag an alert if you were to try and gather information. I’ll handle that myself. Have you told Eli or Reese about the NCS?”

  “No, I came straight here.”

  “Good. I don’t want them to know.”

  “Not even Eli? Honey, I know you hate Reese, and Carrie, but Eli?”

  “We’ll make sure Eli’s protected.”

  “And Zeke?”

  She hissed out a breath and set her teacup on the coffee table. “Why must he be so stubborn? He was out of it. All he had to do was stay in the military.”

  “You know why he didn’t,” Art argued.

  “Oh yes,” she agreed. “Damnable male pride. If you can’t be on the front line doing the killing you’re worthless. Damn men. When will they learn that brute force can always be overcome by superior intellect and planning?”

  Art gave her knee a squeeze. “That anger’s just hiding concern, Maybelle. Now don’t give me that look. I know you love him. You see Raff in him and you want to save him, but he has to do that for himself. You know that.”

  Maybelle knew Art was right, but that didn’t ease what she felt. She had great plans for Zeke. And she wanted him away from that bitch of a mother Carrie.

  “Raff wouldn’t have wanted him to be part of this.” Her voice was soft and sounded full of sadness.

  Art pulled her close, hugging her to his side. “I know, honey, but you can’t force him. He has to come to it on his own.”

  “I hate that bitch!” It was a hiss of words, soft but filled with deep hatred. “She took Raff from us. You know it was her and Reese. They killed Raff. We both know it. And they tried to turn Zeke into a carbon copy of Reese.”

  “But they didn’t hon. He got out.”

  “And came back. I offered him a job, Art. Any company I own – he could start in management, or I’d create a new company – a security firm and he could run it. But he turned me down.”

  “Because he wants to stand on his own, Maybelle. You can’t fault him for that.”

  “No, but I can fault him for being part of Reese’s bunch of thugs, Art. He’s been involved in two shootings in less than a month. Which reminds me, what of that young woman he shot? The one who is working for you.”

  “What of her?”

  “Is something starting up between the two of them?”

  “I don’t know. Honest to god, I hope not. I do know that somehow she ended up getting him, Rice and Six Pack back to Renegades after that fiasco in Selma.”

  “I want to know more about her.”

  “I’ll give you what I have.”

  “Thank you. Now,” she pushed away from him and straightened. “As I said, Reese knows nothing about Weston Franklin’s reason for being in Harmony and I want it to stay that way. I’ll handle Eli and tell him what he needs to know, but
I don’t want you mentioning it to Reese.”

  “He’s going to find out. I get the feeling Franklin isn’t going to be hiding his presence in Harmony.”

  “Whatever. If he finds out on his own, just tell him it has to do with something else entirely. I don’t want you giving him anything, you understand? But, I also don’t want him to think he can’t trust you, so when you get back pay him a visit and let him know that the Mayor knows about the latest arrest and is screaming for blood, trying to force the Town Council into shutting down Renegades. Tell Reese that Morris is out for blood.”

  “If Morris was out for blood the whole town would know it,” Art said.

  “He will be by the time you get back to town,” she said with a smile.

  Art returned the smile. “Why do I get the feeling that things are about to get real interesting?”

  She chuckled and took his hand. “And we have only just gotten started, my darling.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Roxy started on the side of town opposite Renegades. West was silent, looking around as she drove. She did not interrupt the silence. She simply rode up and down every street in town, avoiding the area where Renegades was located.

  It wasn’t until she turned a block early off Union Street to avoid the Union Street and Stegall Road intersection that West spoke up. “Don’t turn here.”

  Roxy grit her teeth and proceeded down Union. When they came to the intersection of Stegall Road, West held up his hand. “Hold up. Turn in here.”

  Oh great. The last thing she wanted to do was roll up on Renegades property with a Fed in her patrol car. But what choice did she have?

  There was a line of bikes in the lot, along with an assortment of other vehicles. The tow truck and the big panel truck were missing.

  She stopped adjacent to the garage office and put the car in park. From the bays of the garage half a dozen men watched, including Zeke.

  “Wait here,” West said then got out of the car and stood there for a few moments, looking around. When he headed for the bays of the garage Roxy debated whether to get out but decided to follow his directives and stay where she was.

  She watched as he approached the first bay door, wishing she could hear what was being said.