Montana Blues [Sins of Silver Creek 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Marie Jermy

  Nick stood hands-on-hips in all his naked glory. She couldn’t stop her downward gaze. His massive cock was rock hard and it was all she could do not to drop to her knees and suck him until he filled her mouth with cum.

  “Are you all right?” he again asked.

  She feigned a bright and breezy tone. “Yeah, sorry, I needed the toilet like yesterday.”

  She couldn’t look neither Nick nor Steve in the eye when she returned to the bedroom, and they carried on kissing and caressing her body. Her tone might have been faked, but her subsequent orgasms were not.

  Chapter 15

  “Start talking, Houseman. Who sold you the ketamine?”

  Nick eyed Wayne Houseman with a razor-sharp stare and leaned back in the battered wooden chair, waiting. Their present location was an interview room at Butte police station after Nick had literally dragged Wayne Houseman from his aunt’s house in Silver Creek and driven him to Butte. Thankfully the events hadn’t turned into a riot because Ian and Drew Houseman were so hungover from the previous night’s drinking that nothing short of a magnitude-eight earthquake would have woken them from their slumber.

  There had been two reasons for their location. One. Since Wayne seemed the weakest of the Houseman brothers, Nick thought the combination of a serious situation and tough manhandling would have Houseman singing like a canary. The ploy seemed to have worked because the skinny and pale-faced youth looked ready to shit his pants. And two. Nick didn’t want to use the interview room at Silver Creek station, not when Sanders was there and he was their main suspect. The moment Nick arrived at 8:15 for his shift, he’d wanted to punch the mile-wide smirk from Sanders’s ugly face.

  It was obvious that Sanders was homophobic and definitely not worth wasting his thoughts on, so Nick turned them to Jez and in particular the night before. Fuck, had she been hot! Their lovemaking had been out of this world and intensely satisfying. More than that, his love for Steve had not turned her off. If anything it had strengthened the bond between them. Though Jez hadn’t said yes to a ménage relationship or confessed feelings for him or Steve, Nick felt certain she did care deeply for them, possibly on the verge of falling in love. However, with the events of that morning, he also felt certain that something was stopping Jez from going all the way. She’d bolted from their bed quicker than a flying bullet. He reasoned her excuse of wanting the toilet was plausible, but he didn’t believe it for a second.

  He didn’t think Steve believed her also but they hadn’t been able to discuss it because Nick was already late for work. He’d left Steve and Jez together in bed getting to know each other better. He wished he could have stayed with them.

  Nick shook himself back to present when he realized Wayne Houseman hadn’t yet answered his question. “Well, I’m waiting.”

  “Could I have a glass of water, please?”

  “Why are you so dehydrated that you’re on the verge of keeling over before answering?”

  “No, but it is my basic human right.”

  Wayne Houseman might be weak, but he was a wise-ass. Nick rolled his eyes, got to his feet, and opened the door. “Can I have a glass of water in here?” he shouted out into the corridor.

  A minute later and a tall, thirty-something man appeared. His disheveled light brown hair brushed the collar of his casual blue-and-white checkered shirt and his brown eyes twinkled with intelligence and mirth. One tanned hand held a glass of water, and the other was tucked in the front pocket of a pair of deep blue Wranglers. He pulled his hand free. “I heard you were in the building, Detective North. Tyler Whitmore.”

  Nick decided he liked the head scene investigator as he shook Whitmore’s hand. “Nick.”

  “I’ve got your results. I’ll wait until you’ve finished with your interview and then we can talk.”

  “Sure.” Taking the glass from Whitmore, Nick returned the grin and went back to Houseman. The youth immediately consumed the water in one long gulp. “Now that you’ve quenched your thirst, my question—”

  “I don’t know his name. He didn’t give it. But I can describe him.”

  “Go on.”

  “What assurances do I have that he won’t find out that I talked?”

  Nick leaned forward, intrigued by Houseman’s words. “I won’t reveal my source.”

  “That’s what he told Ian and Drew.”

  Gotcha! That was exactly what Sanders had said. “Don’t worry, Wayne, he won’t get to you or your brothers. I’ll make sure of that. You don’t even have to talk. I’ll describe him and you just nod if you agree.”

  Nick described Sanders to Houseman, who gave a nod and a slight smile at the less than favorable description.

  “Why ketamine? Why not pot—cannabis? Coke? Or even smack?”

  “Ketamine was all he had. We just wanted to get high.”

  “Not to drug girls and rape them? Because that’s what ketamine can be used for. Did you know that, Wayne? It’s a sedative drug, an anesthetic. It knocks them out so they don’t—can’t—resist.”

  Houseman almost squeaked. “Shit, no!” He looked longingly at the empty glass.

  “You want another?”

  Houseman shook his head. “He did say we could do that, you know fuck girls and have fun. But me and my brothers ain’t like that. We wouldn’t hurt women.” He again shook his head. “I know Ian assaulted that pretty woman officer, but he was a dick. He was just high. He didn’t mean it.”

  “I’m sure he didn’t,” Nick said with just a hint of sarcasm.

  “He didn’t!” Houseman lowered his gaze. “Anyway he got what he deserved.”

  Nick suppressed the grin when he remembered exactly what Ian Houseman got back from Jez. A hard kick in the balls wasn’t something a man could easily forget. It may dim over time, but the memory would never truly fade. “How’d the deal go down then? Why approach you three?”

  “Don’t know. Maybe he overheard us talking.”

  “What, at the bar in Dillon?”

  Houseman slowly shook his head. “He came in after us.” He then pressed his lips together and didn’t offer any other answer.

  Nick got it. Sanders overheard them while they were in Silver Creek, possibly in the street or at Rustlers. “Okay, Wayne.” He gestured to the door. “You’re free to leave. Go home and stay there. Lock the door if you want.” Not that Nick thought Sanders was stupid enough to try anything. He wouldn’t give him the chance because he fully intended to arrest Sanders after talking to Whitmore.

  A minute after Houseman left, Whitmore poked his head around the door. “Free?”

  “Come and sit down, Tyler.”

  Whitmore handed Nick a file as he took a seat. The file was a further forensics report and he read in silence. After a few minutes, he looked up. “Are you sure about this?”

  “99.99 percent certain. I need a fiber sample from the actual pants of course, and the tread from the boots to be absolutely certain, but we’ll still be looking at a police uniform from this state. I could even probably narrow it down to this county. Any suspects?”

  Nick nodded. “A big fat ugly one.”

  Whitmore cracked a grin. “The vial is definitely one of the ones stolen from the vets.”

  Nick closed the file. “Thanks for this.”

  “Not a problem.” Whitmore followed Nick from the room. “Are you now going back to Silver Creek? Mind if I tag along?”

  Nick couldn’t help but notice the heated look in Whitmore’s eyes. “No. Meeting someone special?”

  “Too soon to tell.”

  “Anyone I know?”

  Whitmore stared at him. “You don’t seem like a man who’ll make judgments on another man’s sexual preferences. Aiden Smith at the gas station.”

  “Aiden Smith at the gas station?” Nick repeated, frowning as he placed the name. “Oh, you mean Malcolm Smith’s son.”

  “That’s the one.”

  Nick grinned. He’d only met Smith’s son once. Whitmore had his work cut out for him if he
wanted Aiden Smith because even Nick couldn’t budge the mechanic from under the hood of a custom-built Dodge truck when he’d attended the station to fill up the police SUV and asked Smith to check the oil and tires.

  Back in Silver Creek, Nick found the station locked and Sanders nowhere in sight. He swore under his breath while he read the note Sanders had left tacked to the door. Now where had that son of a bitch gone?

  He took out his iPhone and rang Steve’s number, intending to ask if they could look for Sanders together. It went straight to voicemail. That was strange. Steve always answered his phone. Unless, of course, Steve was still in bed getting to know Jez better. Nick grinned at that thought and checked his watch. Unease started to bubble in his gut. It was now nearing 11:30 and he knew Steve wasn’t selfish enough to burn the sheets with Jez, no matter how hot and sexy she was, when she needed to rest for the night’s shift. Where was Steve? Remembering their conversation last night about Sanders, he sure hoped Steve hadn’t gone off half-cocked.

  “Hey, Detective North, how’s it hangin’?”

  Nick turned around at the man’s voice. Despite their fleeting meeting eighteen months ago, he recognized Dan Ferris immediately.

  Ferris stuck out a hand. “I heard you were in town. Been meaning to say hi, but with Sammy and all her cravings and her ‘do this, do that’ demands, it’s been kinda hectic.”

  “Cravings?”

  “Yeah, my beautiful wife is pregnant with twin girls.”

  Nick returned the grin. “Can’t be easy with your sister-in-law looking like she’s about to pop.”

  “Tell me about it.” Ferris shook his head and his grin took a downturn. “Wish it was happier news for Matt and Darcy.”

  Nick didn’t pry. Coupled with Jess’s upset state the morning before, hers and Ross’s sudden departure for Yellowstone, and now with Ferris’s last comment, he had a fair idea what was going on. “You haven’t by any chance seen Sanders, have you?” He would have said his title but didn’t feel the thieving bastard deserved to be called an officer of the law.

  “Yeah, I have actually. He was up at the lake going toward the abandoned mine…”

  Was the son of a bitch getting rid of the evidence?

  “I was just taking a walk. I also saw Steve—”

  “Where?” Nick interrupted sharply, the unease in his gut bubbling over.

  “Now that I come to think about it, he was actually heading in the same direction as Sanders.”

  Fuck, Steve had gone off half-cocked! “When?”

  “’Bout an hour ago.”

  Something else occurred to Nick. “Jez—I mean Officer Sucre wasn’t with Steve, was she?”

  “I think so.”

  “Fuck!” He’d have to spank their angel’s ass when she was safely back with them.

  “Something wrong?”

  Ignoring Ferris, Nick began to think fast. Steve’s and Jez’s lives might be on the line. Then again, was Sanders stupid enough to actually do something? Either way, he wasn’t going to risk it and find out. He needed a plan. One suddenly materialized when he spotted Robert Cannell entering CC’s. It was a crazy plan, even crazier than when he’d stood in front of the Chevy-load of coked-up assholes back in Hollywood.

  “Do you know where Chief Connors lives? Then go get him!” he ordered at Ferris’s nod, and he bounded up the street to the café.

  Chapter 16

  Sanders was one of two things. He was either tripping out on something or unhinged. Standing against the rough rock wall inside a cut-out cavern of the long since abandoned silver mine, his hands in the air, Steve was leaning more toward the former as he watched Sanders pace back and forth, muttering under his breath. His pock-marked face glistened in the light from the three lanterns hanging from hooks embedded in the rocky ceiling. The man was sweating buckets.

  Nick would probably accuse him of going off half-cocked. Steve would disagree, explaining he was just being his usual sociable, easygoing self by dropping in at the police station and saying hello. He couldn’t help it if he’d decided to follow Sanders, who had chosen at that moment to leave and take a hike to the mine. His only regret was Jez had been with him and still was, standing beside him, also watching Sanders pace. Her hands were also held aloft. He didn’t know why Sanders had demanded that. Neither he nor Jez were armed, only Sanders.

  Nick would definitely kick his ass over Jez. Not that Steve hadn’t already beaten himself up over it. He’d walked Jez back to her house so she could get the sleep she needed before starting her shift that night. However, ten minutes after leaving her, she’d caught up with him. He should have sent her packing, but Jez had been insistent and he’d found himself totally incapable of saying no. One flash of her lovely aquamarine eyes and he was putty in her hands and thinking with his cock.

  Steve kicked himself for being a soppy sap and glanced around the cavern, weighing up their situation. It wasn’t good. In fact, it was fucking shit, but if he knew anything, it was that Nick would come armed with his gun and a plan. He just needed to give him time. “Why did you break into the vets’?” he casually asked. Sanders shot him a “What the fuck do you know?” look over his shoulder. “Nick and Jez told me about the break-in.”

  “So?”

  “So, why do it?”

  “Oh, why do you think?”

  “I don’t know, you tell me.”

  Sanders snorted with what sounded like exasperation. “My salary ain’t worth shit, but there’s plenty of money to be had in drugs.”

  Nearby on a ledge about head height that had been cut into the rock wall, he noted a few syringes and a white box. He squinted and could just about make out the label on the box stated “ketamine.” They must be the stolen vials of ketamine. He again studied Sanders’s sweaty condition. “Are you a junkie?”

  Sanders tossed him a mean glare.

  “A pusher then,” he decided. This time the glare could have curdled milk.

  “George, you must know you can’t get away with this. Holding us hostage.”

  There was a tremor to Jez’s tone but there was grit to it, and that made Steve proud. She was scared but wouldn’t be going down without a fight. Not that he had any intention of letting her go down. However, the only weapons he could see was a discarded bucket and old shovel about three feet away in the corner, neither of which would be no match for the gun that Sanders held.

  “She’s got a point, Sanders. There’s no way out.”

  “Shut the fuck up! I’m thinking.”

  “Well, you’re gonna have to think faster because—”

  Sanders stopped his pacing and whipped the gun up to Steve’s face, the barrel touching his nose. “I said, shut the fuck up! I can drop you right now. One less in the world.”

  “One less what in the world?” Steve asked, though he had a good idea what the man meant. So he wasn’t surprised when, with a curled lip, Sanders spat out a homophobic word. He snorted. “You really are a narrow-minded prick.”

  As the menacing cocking of the gun echoed between them, Steve changed his mind. Sanders wasn’t tripping—he was unhinged. And that made him dangerous.

  “George, please! Don’t.”

  Sanders sneered at Jez. “You make me fucking sick. Dropping your pants for his kind.”

  “‘His kind!’” Steve tried his damnedest not to laugh. At least that description was better that Sanders’s last nasty slur. Sanders threw him an evil look then resumed his pacing and his muttering.

  “Where is all this coming from?” Jez whispered to Steve. “I know he keeps himself to himself, but I thought I knew George. I certainly wouldn’t have thought he was homophobic.”

  “I’m not! It’s just him and that North. Think they’re better than me.”

  Steve shook his head at Sanders’s outburst and lowered his voice. “He could be an undiagnosed schizophrenic or he has a split personality, something like that. Or maybe he’s one of these religious nut jobs who—”

  Sanders abruptly turn
ed and stuck the barrel of his gun at the dead center of Jez’s forehead. “One more word and I’ll drop you both. You first.”

  Jez squeaked beside him. He couldn’t blame her. Sanders’s face was full of wrath. He was definitely unhinged to the point that he didn’t give a fuck anymore. Steve wondered what had caused Sanders to suddenly snap. A darting shadow from outside the cavern then caught his eye. Was that Nick? “You’ll never get away with this,” Steve said, repeating Jez’s earlier words.

  “And who’s gonna stop me?”

  “I am,” a voice said from the shadows. “And before you think about dropping me,” Nick added, appearing in the entrance, “I should let you know that the Silver Creek SWAT Team are with me, their weapons trained on you.”

  The Silver Creek SWAT Team? What the fuck had Nick cooked up this time? Nick’s plans had always been on the side of weird and wonderful. Steve glanced down at Jez to see her bemused expression. Obviously she, too, was wondering about Nick’s plan.

  Sanders turned around, a wide smirk on his face. “Nice try, North.”

  Nick shrugged then spoke into a small microphone clipped to his collar. “Hey, guys. This son of a bitch doesn’t believe me. Could you give him a demonstration of your tactical skills? Steve? Jez? You may want to kiss the ground.”

  Still not knowing what trick Nick had up his sleeve, the one he now couldn’t see because Nick had shifted half out of sight, but not doubting him for a second, Steve grabbed Jez and dropped to the floor just as a loud clap of automatic gunfire sounded. Stunned to the point of not realizing there were no sounds of bullets ricocheting against rock to accompany the gunfire, Sanders also nosedived to the ground.

  Jez shrieked when a bullet whistled an inch above their heads. Steve then saw Nick’s gun was in his hand. It was Nick who’d fired that shot. Silver Creek SWAT Team, his ass! But then again, where had that automatic gunfire come from?