by Taylor Lee
Puffing on his pipe, Titus studied her through the curtain of smoke, then quirked a questioning brow. “But your antagonism toward the FBI, while longstanding, is not the issue here, is it, Tanya?”
When she frowned at him and shook her head in disagreement, he held up his hand and stopped her. “No, Deputy Trouble, my sense is that your anger is more focused.” Not letting her interrupt as she was wont to do, her father continued, “This morning I spoke with a number of my established contacts at the FBI. They were gratified to hear that Agent Thompson had revealed himself to us.” He grinned, then continued, “I didn’t bother to tell them that because of my deputy sheriff, he didn’t have a choice. But nonetheless, they were pleased that we were on board. From what they said, the admittedly arrogant Agent Thompson is well regarded at the Bureau. Apparently, he has risen to the top of his field in a few short years. According to his superiors, it’s unusual for someone as young as he is to have risen so far, so fast.”
Tanya snorted. “In an organization that is convinced that they are the second coming of Christ, I’m not surprised that Agent Thompson is considered to be the cat’s meow. That’s certainly how he regards himself.”
Her father regarded her quietly for a long moment, then said, “While I don’t share your antagonism to the young upstart, I’ll admit that I’m concerned at what he has done to you.”
Tanya reared up in her chair. “What do you mean, Dad, done to me? He hasn’t done any—”
Her father shook his head and interrupted her heated response. “To be specific, daughter of mine, he is doing something that I’ve rarely seen. He’s made you unsure of yourself.” Not letting her interrupt, Titus continued. “No matter what issue you’re facing, you assume you are right. That certainty, or confidence, depending on how one defines it, is one of your strong suits. It’s also one of your weaknesses. It makes it almost impossible for anyone, except perhaps me or your sisters, to take you on. Which makes it most interesting that the accomplished, and yes, arrogant man, has done something I’m not sure I like. But at the same time, I admit I admire him.”
Tanya could barely contain her anger, but she had a good idea what her father was going to say. Nevertheless, she glared at him and demanded, “Just what exactly has the cocky agent done that is so miraculous?”
Her father shrugged. “In a nutshell, he’s managed to make you obey.” Ignoring her angry snort, he continued, “To put it succinctly, you do what he tells you to do. In my mind, that is a remarkable state of affairs.” Before she could disagree, Titus added, “If only I didn’t see your unhappiness, frankly I would be pleased that a man of his stature and strong will has come into your life.”
****
“How is the murder investigation going, Tanya?”
Tanya started, realizing that Tara had asked her a question. Seeing that both of her sisters were frowning, looking at her as if they expected an answer, she realized she must look as out of it as she felt. Not that she didn’t have reason to feel discombobulated. Good God, how could she be anything but confused and upset? Seeing their inquiring expressions, Tanya forced herself to pay attention. The last thing she wanted to do was give her too-astute sisters reason to think she was upset. She knew if they had the slightest idea that she was going through a personal crisis, particularly Tara, who asked questions for a living, they would probe until they knew exactly what was troubling the youngest of the Trouble sisters. Tatiana was gentler and less inquisitive than her older sister, but like Tara, she knew intuitively when something was wrong.
Tanya wasn’t surprised when it was her less intrusive sister who asked carefully, “Honey, are you okay? That is the second time that Tara asked you about your murder investigation. Obviously you are upset. But then, how could you not be troubled? To think that a lovely young girl, a sophomore at Higley High School, was killed is horrible. And from what Tara has told me and the gossip I’ve heard at the shelter, apparently she was raped and beaten.” Tatiana’s lovely face contorted with sadness as she reached for Tanya’s hand and squeezed it. “Frankly, Tanya, I don’t know how you do it. To have to see all of that ugliness and then have to deal with her grief-stricken parents has to be a huge challenge. I know it upsets Dad, but at least he has been a sheriff all of his adult life. You only graduated from college a couple of years ago. There’s no way that you could have built up a hard enough shell not to be shocked by this terrible tragedy.”
Tanya was grateful that her kind sister had given her a way to explain her inability to concentrate on their conversation. She had the decency to be embarrassed that, unlike her sisters had assumed, she hadn’t as much as thought about the murder for most of the last twenty-four hours. How could she when her life and well-being had been challenged in a way that she never had been? By a man, no less. She shuddered at the thought of how her sisters would insist on hearing every last detail if they had an inkling of what was happening to her. It was bad enough that her astute father was privy to her private torture. Worse that he’d had the nerve to say that he liked the arrogant stranger who’d turned her world upside down. In fact, he was glad a man of such “strong will” had come into her life. Tanya presumed that his assertion had been a backhanded way of needling her about Bram. While her father was unassailably polite and rarely interfered in her personal life, he hadn’t hidden his disquiet when she and Bram got engaged. Couching his concerns by wondering if they were “moving too fast,” Tanya knew him well enough to know that her father questioned whether the ever-so-proper young doctor was a good fit for his outspoken daughter. It didn’t help that the same thought was occurring more and more often to Tanya.
Embarrassed at her willingness to grab the life raft her sister inadvertently shoved her way, Tanya nodded and blew out an audible sigh. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that the ugly details of Violeta Acedo’s death are now common knowledge. And you’re right. The hardest part of dealing with the death of the beautiful young girl who was killed in such a hideous way is having to work with her shattered parents. They are tortured with grief. We’ve tried to keep the ugly details from being common knowledge, but as you’ve confirmed, it’s impossible to do.”
Tatiana looked horrified. “Oh, Tanya, I hope you don’t think that I’m engaging in or perpetuating gossip. It’s just that for all of us who have struggled with violence, this murder is too close to home. I know it sounds callous, but murders usually seem far away. Even when you and Dad are involved. But when a high school student, a lovely young cheerleader, is killed it’s . . . just . . . so hard . . . ” Not able to finish her sentence, Tatiana just shook her head.
Tanya grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “I know what you are saying, Tatiana. When someone dies from a disease or in an accident and you don’t know them, you are able to build in some distance. It’s the only way we law enforcement types deal with the horrendous things that are a given in our work. But I admit, the senseless and, yes, violent murder of a lovely young girl is more than challenging.”
Tara sought her gaze. “I know you can’t disclose specific details, but are you any closer to figuring out who killed her?”
Tanya shook her head. “Not really, Tara, and I mean that sincerely. I’m not just trying to avoid answering you. We are piecing together a timeline and talking to as many of her friends as we can. At this point, we are no closer to finding the perpetrator than we were when we first discovered her body.”
“I know she was found on Sledge Perkins’s property,” Tara asserted. “I’m sure you saw his comments in the article I wrote on Thursday. Much as I can’t stand the old coot, he did seem genuinely upset. Of course given that he is a despicable racist, he seemed mostly annoyed that the ‘little spic girl,’ as he referred to Violeta, had been found on his land. He seems to believe that she was planted there to throw suspicion onto him and his men.”
Not wanting to discuss the murder or think about the awful men who worked Perkins’s land, particularly one of them who she now knew was an undercover
agent, Tanya sought to change the subject. Rising to her feet, she said, “I don’t know about you two, but I’m still thirsty. How about some refills?” When both of her sisters nodded in agreement, she scooped up their glasses and headed to the bar.
Catching Dante’s eye, she held up her tray of empty glasses. Returning his smiling acknowledgement, Tanya saw too late she’d made a critical error. A piercing wolf whistle sounded, followed by Pete Weber’s taunt, “Incoming, boys! Get out your nut buckets! Tanya the Terrible is on the horizon!” Tanya lifted her chin, preparing to respond in kind to the bully, when she saw him. It spoke to her emotional state that she hadn’t seen him until now. Ryker’s narrowed gaze and rigid jaw shuttered her acerbic response. In an uncharacteristic show of restraint to Pete’s insult, she merely shrugged and turned her back to the offending gang. Leaning against the bar, she shot Dante a silent appeal. His low response and teasing wink confirmed that he understood her need.
“Snuggle up here, sweet cheeks. I’ll protect you from those overbearing assholes.”
Tanya blew out an audible breath and shot him a wan smile. She knew as much as Dante thought he could protect her, in a million years, no one, including her buddy bartender, could shield her from the charming imposter sitting among the reprobates. As her father had intimated, and she acknowledged, she truly had met her match.
Chapter 12
Whaddaya think, Pete? You think if you could afford that hunk of a diamond, you could get your rockin’ kielbasa in that little deputy’s poontang?”
Before Pete could answer Greg’s coarse query, Manny Davis spoke up, a dark frown straining his face. “Forget it, buddy. Are you dumb enough to believe she actually likes that effeminate pill-pusher? When’s the last time you saw her with him? As in never! We all know she wears that ring to protect herself from a real man. Like it would stop any of us. As for getting inside that succulent coochie of hers? I wouldn’t have to buy my way in. Once she had a taste of my joystick, you can be sure there ain’t a diamond big enough to keep her from coming back to me for more.”
Pete barked out a raucous laugh. “You dreamer, Manny. The only way you’re gonna get close to knockin’ boots with Tanya the Terrible is from the inside of a jail cell with her on the outside laughing in your face as she throws away the key.”
Manny’s expression darkened dangerously as he glared at his friend. “I’m tellin’ you like I told that bitch. I ain’t never again gonna see the inside of that jail if I have to take down her and her prick of a father.”
Greg snorted. “Pete’s right, Manny. The only way you’d get to first base with that sweet snatch is if she was blindfolded and hogtied.”
A malevolent grin spread across Manny’s face, chasing away his glower. “Now that ain’t a bad idea, Greg. As long as you add a gag stuffed in that mouthy pie hole of hers. Hell, yeah, men. I don’t know about you, but I’m getting a righteous hard-on just imagining that scenario.”
Rubbing the front of his jeans suggestively, he added, “I’m gonna tell you something else that every damn one of you knows. There ain’t been a woman I’ve had that didn’t come back begging for more.”
Pete shrugged dismissively and added sotto voce, “Yeah, if they lived to tell about it . . . ”
Manny reared up in his chair, smacking the legs down on the floor with a loud crack. “What the fuck do you mean by that, you cowardly son of a bitch?”
Pete put up his hands to ward off the infuriated man and quickly amended his provocative assertion. “Hell, Manny, you know what I mean. I’ve double and triple-teamed scores of bitches with you. It’s a wonder any of them lived to tell about it, we reamed ’em out so well. Jesus, man, you’re an all-night wonder if there ever was one.” He hesitated and then added with a daring smirk, “Hell, given the high-octane blow and smack we’ve been scoring, it’s no wonder we got gals from every corner of the state beggin’ for our special brand of lovin’.” He added carefully, “But you gotta admit, man, while we can always count on a full roster of willing pussy, none of us has scored with one of Trouble sisters. Most especially Tanya the Terrible.”
Manny glared at him, then an ugly grin snaked across his alcohol-flushed face. “Matter of time, asshole. Merely a matter of time until I get hold of that stuck-up bitch.” His eyes flashing dangerously, he added, “Yeah, if anyone has earned what I’m gonna do to that rockin’ body of hers, it’s that smug deputy who’s gonna learn firsthand what a real man can do to a cocky cunt.”
Having listened to as much of the misogynistic shit the disreputable men were shilling as he could stomach, Ryker shoved back his chair. It was hard enough listening to their blowhard bragging, but hearing Manny’s drunken threats of how he intended to take on the provocative deputy sheriff, it was all he could do to keep from choking on the gorge rising in his throat. Striding to the bar after muttering about the need for a refill, Ryker sidled up to the rail and held up his glass to Dante. “How about it, Dante? Do you have any more of that first-class scotch you tempted me with?”
“Sure thing, Burke. It’s not often one of Sledge’s guys asks for something other than pig swill.” His lip quirked up at the corner. “I dunno, Burke, if I didn’t know better, I might think you don’t like that bunch of rattlesnakes any more than I do.”
Having decided he needed information from the cagey bartender, Ryker allowed himself to act surprised at the bartender’s telling assertion. “Hmm, I didn’t know that an ‘intoxicologist’ could play favorites. Thought all you booze peddlers were agnostic, as long as the customer’s good for the poison they swill and once in a blue moon actually tips.”
Dante studied him for a long minute, then quirked a quizzical brow. “Better be careful, Burke, or I’m gonna be thinkin’ you don’t belong with those shitkickers.”
Ryker lifted a dismissive shoulder. “Nah, I can kick the shit with the best, or the worst, of them. It’s just that I’m secure enough in my manhood not to have to brag about it. Besides, Sister Agnes, my junior high math teacher, put the fear of God in me and my buddies when she claimed that God made sure the biggest braggarts had the smallest dicks.”
Dante laughed out loud. “I knew I shoulda gone to a Catholic school. I thought those little plaid skirts and white cotton panties the girls wore were the only draw.”
Ryker laughed and winked at him. “Well, yes, there were those. Not to change the subject, but I gotta ask. You seem to have a special relationship with that ferocious deputy who seems to get off harassing my buddies. Is she always provocative or does she just go after Sledge’s guys?”
“No, for better or worse, Deputy Trouble is an equal-opportunity provocateur. The only one she riles more than that gang of creeps you hang with is her supposed fiancé.”
Ryker knew he was riding a thin rail. As much as he wanted to push the bartender, he didn’t want to peak the astute man’s interest any more than he already had. Instead of responding to the barkeep’s surprising assertion, he sucked in a deep draught of his Jameson and sighed with pleasure. His restraint paid off when Dante leaned closer and said, “Yeah, I gotta tell you, Burke, while your gang is as big of jag-offs as you can find, the one I despise the most is that hoity-toity doc Tanya went and got engaged to.”
“Hmm, I would think that a real-life doctor who could give her a multi-thousand dollar ring would stack a little higher than my admittedly jag-off buddies.”
Dante shook his head, a deep furrow creasing his brow. He was quiet for a moment, then as if shrugging off his negative thoughts, he chuckled. “Just so you know, I’m a declared Trouble family groupie. I gotta tell you, how Titus ever managed to overcome all the crap that came his way is a miracle. But he did, and in the process, singlehandedly raised three of the most beautiful young women that ever graced this shithole of a town.” He looked thoughtful for a moment, then shot Ryker a grin. “But without a doubt, of the three, that diminutive deputy captured me. Hell, when she was five years old, that little sprite would prance in here trailing after the sh
eriff, who never could say no to her. She’d climb up on the barstool and lift that pert little chin of hers and say, “Missur Dantie, give me a cheery cola, straight up—no ice.” Dante shook his head at the memory and added, “Hell, how could anyone say no to her? Then or now?”
Ryker smiled at the thought of the outrageous child who’d only gotten more outrageous as she’d matured. He could testify to the fact that she wasn’t afraid to take on anyone, rather, he corrected himself with a surge of pride, anyone but him. Needing to probe the garrulous bartender further, he asked, “You’re obviously a fan of the deputy, so I’m surprised you don’t approve of her fiancé. I would think that in most circles, he would be considered a catch.”
Dante snorted. “Yeah if you’re a social climber, which Tanya Trouble most certainly is not! Hell, like her father, I sincerely think she doesn’t believe any mere man is up to her standards. An opinion I happen to share with the sheriff.” He hesitated and then leaned forward conspiratorially. “Tell me if you don’t agree this is worthy of an asshole if ever there was one. Dr. Bramford Courtland actually had the nerve to tell me that there would be a healthy remuneration if I shortchanged the deputy’s drinks by replacing them with low-calorie alternatives.”
“Why the hell would he do that?”
“A good question, except that it came from the most officious prick you’ll ever meet. Apparently, the good doc thinks his intended is too—how can I say it—too curvy. Hell, they were both sitting at the bar, and I overheard him actually suggest, over a half-glass of organic white wine, she might want to consider a breast reduction . . . ” Dante snorted. “Can you imagine an adult male with an ounce of testosterone in his bloodstream concluding the deputy’s bodacious assets need to be ‘re-sized’?”
Ryker couldn’t check his amazement. “Sorry, Dante, I don’t get it. How could someone as brazen as the deputy sheriff not tell the asshole to take his non-existent balls . . . and his fucking ring . . . and get the hell out of her life?”