by Penny McCall
Unfortunately, Jackass didn’t feel the same way about Angel. He kept looking back, and Angel apparently didn’t need any urging to catch up. The problem was she brought Tag along with her.
“Aren’t you wondering why Mick and Franky just let us go after they went to so much trouble to drag us out here?” he asked.
“If I wanted to know, I could ask them,” she said. “Their word is as trustworthy as yours.”
“I had good reasons for lying to you.”
“I’ll bet.”
“But you don’t want to hear them,” he continued. “You don’t want to know the truth because then you might have to face some things you’d rather not face.”
“Yep, that’s it,” Alex said, “so go away and take your fairy tales—I mean your truths—with you, and leave me to my blissful ignorance.”
“I could do that,” Tag said, “but believe it or not I do have a conscience, and as you’ve pointed out I dragged you into this. I feel kind of responsible for you.”
“I’m touched.”
“You’re a smart-ass. But that’s still better than being dead—which is a distinct possibility without me. I can keep you safe, Alex.”
“If that was your goal, you should have left me out of this to begin with.”
“That was an option, but if I’d walked away from you, Bennet Harper would only have sent someone else.”
“Are you trying to scare me?”
“Would it do me any good?”
Chapter Twenty-Two
IF HE’D BEEN TRYING TO SCARE ALEX, TAG HAD failed miserably. Jackass ambled along at a steady pace throughout the remainder of the night. Alex dismounted periodically to give him a break, but walking or riding, the two of them moved along as tirelessly as the Energizer Bunny, without the annoying enthusiasm.
Angel kept pace a bit behind and to the right of Jackass. Tag walked when Alex walked and rode when she rode, his thighs chafing and his gut stewing. Of the two he was more concerned about his gut for once. He knew it was only a matter of time before curiosity got the better of her, but while she was wallowing the clock was running out on them.
Sure, the truth must have been devastating for her. He’d expected that, and she was entitled to some time to come to terms with it. Right after they figured out how much danger they were in and took steps to get out of it.
“Harper isn’t wasting any time putting the rest of his scheme into action,” Tag finally said, about the time another day was dragging its feet into the world.
Alex stopped at the top of the hill and sat there watching dawn break, which, Tag thought, ranked right up there with watching grass grow for sheer excitement value. The sun crept over the eastern horizon, shining on the crest of the mountains and crawling with agonizing slowness down the rocky slopes. Tag waited about six inches worth.
“I’m an FBI agent,” he said. No preliminaries, no easing into it. No giving her a chance to tell him to shut up. “My partner, Tom Zukey, was killed six months ago.”
He thought he saw a flicker of sympathy. Or maybe he’d imagined it. Either way Alex was determined not to dignify his commentary. But she wasn’t the only one who knew how to push buttons, and it wouldn’t be long before the sarcasm built up in her like gas behind a champagne cork.
“All I wanted was to find the guy responsible and make him pay,” Tag continued, “and I’m not talking about a jail sentence. Mike Kovaleski, my handler, sent me on this assignment to keep me from doing something stupid.”
Tag took the derogatory sound she made as a sign that at least she was listening—and she thought that everything he’d done had been stupid. He had no choice but to agree with her, but since her criticism had been nonverbal, so was his acknowledgment.
“The bureau received a couple of complaints out of Boston, from a couple of big names. Or maybe I should say they were big political contributors. I’m sure you know what I’m talking about; nobody can bitch quite like the entitled wealthy when something doesn’t go their way. A friend—it’s always a friend—invested some money with a guy named Bennet Harper who was promising big returns. What they got back was nothing, and I was tasked to find out why.”
“It was a fluff job, a nothing assignment meant to keep the money men happy. And then I got dropped out of an airplane in your valley, and things began to get complicated.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me the truth?” Alex said, her voice busting out of her, loaded with resentment and temper that had gotten the better of her.
“I should have,” Tag said, “but it’s protocol. When I’m on a case I can’t blow my cover for any… No, that’s a cop out. Zukey didn’t follow the rules and now he’s dead.”
“And you’re blaming yourself.”
“It was my fault. I should have known what he was up to, but my gut—my famous intuition—failed me.” Tag ran a hand through his hair, swallowed the bitter taste in the back of his throat. “He was the senior partner, more experience, more time on the job, so I did what he told me to do. By the time I found out he was taking a meeting with Tony Sappresi—he’s the mob guy we were investigating— it was too late. Sappresi had him killed. I didn’t get there in time to stop it.”
Alex looked over at him, her eyes level on his. “You got there in time to take a bullet of your own,” she said. “The scar on your side.”
Tag shrugged that off, along with the collapsed lung, the endless days lying in a hospital bed, and the weeks of physical therapy, haunted by the need for vengeance.
“And now you don’t trust your instincts,” she said when he remained silent. She was still furious, but she understood what he was going through. Because he had Zukey on his conscience. She’d lived with the fallout of being responsible for hurting someone she loved.
“Mike sent me on this assignment because he knew I was going after Sappresi,” Tag said, “and he wanted me to hold off. When Harper dropped me on you, I knew I should trust you, but I played it by the rules, figuring it would get me out of here sooner.”
“So you could go after your revenge.”
“Yes.”
“And you’ll use anyone to get it.”
“You’re damn right I will,” he flared up. “And I’m not apologizing for it. I should be tracking down the scum who killed Zukey, but I’m stuck on this dumbshit case instead.”
“And I’m not?” she shot back. “You dragged me into this, and now I’m just as stuck as you are.”
“Fine. Do whatever the hell you want, Alex, go back to your cabin—”
“You burned it down.”
“That’s not really the point, is it? I’m sure you can find another place to hide away from the world, so you don’t have to take a personal risk ever again.”
She stared at him for a minute, her hands fisted on the Winchester. Then she spun around and reached for Jackass’s reins.
Tag caught her wrist.
She brought the rifle up with her other hand. “I’m done being manhandled and pushed around.”
“How about taking your life back? How about not moping about Bennet Harper for another decade while your life passes you by?”
“I’m not moping about Harper.”
“You’re not over him, either.”
She pulled her wrist out of his grip, but she didn’t try to take off again. “It’s not him.”
“No, it’s the damage he did.” Tag said. “You don’t trust yourself any more than I trust myself. The difference is I’m doing something about it.”
And she’d gone into hiding. The realization of what she’d lost made Alex sick to her stomach. She had run away. True, she’d needed the distance, but somewhere along the line she’d deluded herself that she’d put the whole mess behind her—willful ignorance, and that was the worst kind of lie. She’d gotten over the man, but not what he’d done to her life. He’d stolen her trust, and she’d let him get away with it.
“You’re right, Tag, I’m a fool,” she said carefully, because the cold, hard anger
that had kept her upright and moving through the night had been replaced with a big, hot ball comprised of self-pity, hurt, and a stew of other emotions that had all boiled themselves down to tears. And she’d be damned if she let him see her cry. “Thanks for waking me up, although I have to say destroying everything I’ve worked for over the last four years was a bit extreme.”
“I’m not the enemy, Alex. I can help you—”
“You’re asking me to trust you?” She jammed the Winchester back in its holster, knowing it would be a mistake to face him again with a gun in her hands. “Like you trusted me right from the beginning.”
“I didn’t know what was going on, and by the time I was sure you weren’t involved—”
“You mean when Bennet Harper had my house burned to the ground?”
“Okay, I knew pretty early, but I’m a federal agent. There are rules, and one of them is need to know.”
“And you didn’t think I needed to know any of this?”
“You already knew you were in danger.”
She hissed out a breath, anger mixing back into the stew. “And it never occurred to you that I might be able to help you figure out what was going on?”
“You were doing that anyway.”
“Because you lied and manipulated me into it.”
Tag met her gaze, but she wasn’t ready to take the bleakness in his eyes as regret.
“When we were in Denver and you told me about Harper,” he said carefully, “that was when I began to realize there was a lot more going on than I understood.”
“So why didn’t you tell me then?”
“I was afraid you’d do something we’d both be sorry for.”
“Like sleep with you? Because I’m sorry for that.” She knew it was a low blow, but she wanted him to be angry, wanted him to yell and say terrible things back to her. She wanted a reason to walk away and write him out of her life. Because she was beginning to believe him.
“I didn’t want you to take off before I had a chance to tell you the truth,” Tag said. “The other… just happened.”
Because yet again she’d been a fool. “Don’t count on it happening again.” She reached for the pommel and lifted her foot, but Jackass sidled away so she couldn’t mount. Another attempt left her hopping on one foot, feeling like an idiot.
“It’s pretty bad when a jackass has more sense than its rider.”
“Ha, ha, very clever.”
“Look, Alex.” He laid a hand on her arm but not to restrain. “It wasn’t easy for you to leave everything you knew and come out here. You fought, a hell of a lot harder than I can imagine, to make a life for yourself. But you haven’t dealt with Harper, and until you do you aren’t really free.”
“You have no room to talk.”
“I’ll deal with Sappresi when the time comes. And it will, Mike was right about that. Now’s the time for you to deal with that son of a bitch Harper once and for all.”
“I don’t need you to tell me that.”
“Good. Then let’s—”
“And I don’t need your help.” She shrugged his hand off and looked over her shoulder at him. “I’ll deal with Bennet Harper. I know what makes him tick.”
“Then you know exactly how to hurt him.”
“Without leaving a mark, or going to jail.”
Tag had once called her a cold, mean woman, but he’d been wrong. There was a fire burning inside her. Maybe it had been banked for a while, but he could see it now, and he didn’t want to be in the way when she unleashed it. Not that he had much of a choice. “That’s admirable, Alex, and I’d be happy to step aside, except for one thing. Harper isn’t the only one you have to worry about. He had investors.”
“Oh, no, you’re not dragging me back into that stupidity. You deal with his investors, I’ll deal with him.”
“Yeah, I wish that was possible, but Franky wasn’t done spilling his guts when you left.”
“And of course you knew the right questions to ask.” But she stopped trying to climb on Jackass.
“Harper’s been running a new con since you left Boston,” Tag said unapologetically. “He gets his hands on a completely authentic artifact that’s supposed to lead to a treasure of some sort.”
“Like Juan Amparo’s map.”
Tag nodded. “He assembles a list of investors, lets them test the map, and when they discover it’s real, they can’t wait to plunk down money for a chance at a hoard of buried gold. This isn’t his first con since you left Boston. There were some complaints on the last one from a couple of guys with Washington connections. The complaints got to the bureau, and here I am, pretending to work for Harper.”
“You knew there was no treasure.”
“I had no idea the treasure didn’t exist until today.”
“But it was all part of an assignment—”
“Not everything.”
Alex knew what he was getting at, but she wasn’t going there.
“I had to play the game—I know you don’t like that word, but that’s the way it is. The bad guy sets the parameters and decides the rules.”
“And the rest of us are rats running a maze.”
“If you want to see it that way. Harper dropped me on you. I didn’t know who you were, or whose side you were on, so I had to take careful steps. Yeah, I realized pretty quickly that you were in the dark. I also knew you didn’t trust many people, but when you did you trusted completely. I couldn’t risk who you might tell, and who they might tell.”
Especially in a town like Casteel where word of mouth was as good as the evening news. She had to grant Tag that one—at least privately. “Keep talking,” she said.
“I knew Junior had the Lost Spaniard map because Harper gave it to him,” Tag said. “You know the rest, except for my meeting with Harper in Denver.”
Alex thought her heart couldn’t sink any lower, but it dropped all the way to her toes with that revelation.
“I didn’t tell him we were going to be there. Mick and Franky let him know the map had been stolen. Harper assumed I’d done it and figured Denver would be our next logical step, so he flew into town and had us followed, waiting for an opportunity to hijack me.”
And that pissed her off more than anything else, the fact that Bennet Harper had known what her reaction was going to be, right down the line, and then he’d used it against her.
“I, ah, went out to find a drugstore that morning,” Tag was saying. “Mick picked me up and took me to meet with Harper. I’m pretty sure he was intending to tell me what he wanted me to do next, but I blew it. He realized you and I—”
Alex popped up an eyebrow and crossed her arms.
Tag chose to rephrase. “He must have figured out that I wouldn’t betray you, so he sent Mick and Franky to take my place.”
“That’s why they didn’t care if we actually found it or not.”
“All they had to do was put on a good show,” Tag said by way of agreement. “By now they’re halfway to Denver, and they’re telling everyone they run across that we found the Lost Spaniard and took off with it.”
“To get Harper off the hook.”
“Exactly.”
She spent a moment digesting that, but it was pretty straightforward and disgustingly clear, except for one thing. “So who’s the investor and why is Bennet afraid of him?”
Tag smiled. “You’re thinking, not reacting emotionally. That’s good.”
“That’s logic,” she corrected him, refusing to let his praise mean anything. “And you haven’t answered my question.”
“I don’t know who the investor is. Mike has a couple of agents working on it from his end. It won’t be easy, since Harper is probably the only one who knows the entire list.”
“Well, have fun with that,” Alex said. “I’d tell you to give me a call sometime and let me know how it turns out, but I don’t know where I’ll be.”
“You’ll be dead,” Tag said. “Whoever this guy is, he’s a shark, and Harper is to
ssing you to him like raw meat.”
“It’s my life and my choice. What do you care?”
“I care, Alex.” He looked away. “It’s my job to care.”
For a second there she’d thought… But that would be stupid. He’d been using her all along. Maybe his motives were altruistic but that didn’t change how it felt. “Don’t want another Zukey on your hands?”
His gaze flashed to hers and she knew she’d scored, again, but it didn’t feel any better than it had the last time. “So if I’m gullible enough to believe everything you’ve told me—”
“Call Mike. He’ll confirm everything.”
“Right. Some slimy friend of yours who’s willing to say whatever you tell him.”
Tag walked over to Angel and retrieved Alex’s satchel and packs, and handed them to her. “Go ahead, take off and waste another decade telling yourself whatever you need to believe about me.”
Alex clutched her satchel, amazed, and confused. All she wanted was to get away from Tag, and now that he was letting her go, she didn’t want to. And it got worse. She actually believed him. Except the part where he talked about his feelings.
“You just don’t want to admit I might be everything I say I am,” he said.
She wasn’t afraid to admit it, she was afraid to believe it. And she was tired of being afraid, of making choices in her life because of fear. The time had come to do something about it, and if Tag was the conduit, then she’d just have to accept it.
She crossed her arms, huffed out a breath. “What do you suggest we do about it? Because I’m not spending the rest of my life wondering if I’m going to wake up dead.”
Jackass bumped her with his nose, pushing her in Tag’s direction.
“Looks like Jackass has an idea,” Tag said.
“Then I guess it’s a good thing he doesn’t get a vote.”
He nudged her again.
Tag’s grin turned wolfish. “Us guys gotta stick together.”
“Disgustingly macho,” she said. “And you haven’t answered my question.”
“We need to get to a phone.”