by Taylor Lee
Not understanding what Meier was saying, Tanya was more surprised when he glanced at her hand, then up at Ryker. Meeting Ryker’s half-smile, Barrett laughed so hard, Tanya thought he might shake apart. He reminded her of those overstuffed Santas in the mall who literally shook when they laughed—the inimitable bowl full of jelly. However, unlike the mall Santas, Barrett’s girth was all his own, no pillows or jelly required. Certain of his obvious overindulgence in alcohol, she moved discreetly closer to Ryker, not sure what was wrong with their host.
Dragging a linen napkin off the grandiose bar next to him, Barrett wiped at his streaming eyes. “All right, Deputy Trouble, let me see your hand, your left hand. Do know that you can make this old man happier than he has a right to feel tonight. All you need to do is tell me that your bare ring finger isn’t merely the result of your forgetting to wear that shamefully ostentatious engagement ring.”
Before she could respond, Ryker broke in as he tugged Tanya closer to him. Glancing around the impressive room, his irony was apparent. “Be careful, Barrett, what you call ostentatious.”
Again, Meier barked a hearty laugh. “Yes, yes. But of course, Agent Thompson, forgive my impertinence. But then who can appreciate or despise ostentatiousness better than an accomplished practitioner, which the lovely deputy is most certainly not?” Glancing at Ryker’s protective arm around Tanya’s waist, Barrett shook his head and turned to Titus, whose narrowed gaze should have warned Barrett to be careful how he approached his daughter. Apparently deciding that he was above reprimand, Meier barreled forward.
“Don’t tell me, Sheriff Trouble, that in addition to coming into our fair domain and showing us both up in the arenas in which we supposedly shine, our young friend has left the heir to the state’s largest copper mining fortune looking in his trousers for his missing cojones?”
“I prefer that you don’t you lump us together, Barrett. Although I admit that Agent Thompson has not only proven himself to be an accomplished agent but also an impressive Lothario.” At Tanya’s gasp, he added with a soft smile, “Indeed, given that my challenging daughter was his target, I would suggest that any foe, professional or in the amorous arena, concede gracefully. It’s not only in the fighting arts that Agent Thompson is a master.”
Smiling at Titus, Ryker put up his hands and demurred. “Thank you, Sheriff Trouble. That is high praise from a man as admirable as any I have had the pleasure of knowing. But surely, sir, you of all people know that it is your daughter who bagged me.” He grinned down at Tanya and corrected himself. “Or perhaps we can just call it a draw.” Then, turning to Barrett, he said crisply, “But even though I’m pleased to confirm that Deputy Trouble and I have both gratefully met our match, I suggest we turn to the subject of our visit.”
Meier’s gaze narrowed perceptively and he said softly, “Can I assume from that comment, my accomplished agent, as in our previous conversations, the gloves are off?”
Ryker nodded, then allowed his lips to quirk up in a smile—one that didn’t reach his eyes. “Indeed, Agent Meier, and as I noted before, in addition to the gloves being off, that sound you heard is the gauntlet I threw at your feet.” His smile broadened he looked over at the bar. “But please, sir, know that if I have learned anything in my life, it is never to turn down expensive booze. May I suggest that our upcoming conversation is worthy of, if not your Macallan Private Eye single malt Scotch whiskey from the Speyside Highlands, at least your 50th Anniversary Four Roses?”
Meier studied him for a long moment, then said, “Ah, my friend, if any conversation is worthy of my Macallan, it is this one. In fact, if you don’t mind, I’ll finish off this bottle that I began earlier and open a fresh one for the three of you.”
****
Ryker accepted one of the glasses Barrett handed him and gave it to Tanya. Noticing Barrett’s shaky grip, he captured the glass the sweating man was proffering him. Grasping Tanya’s elbow, he led her to the overstuffed sofa, then sank down next to her, pressing his knee squarely against hers. He waited until Titus took one of the chairs across from them and put his glass on the coffee table. Huffing slightly with the effort, Barrett sank down in the armchair next to the sheriff and plunked the bottle of Macallan that he’d commandeered on the side table next to him. It didn’t take Titus’s lifted eyebrow to confirm that like Ryker, he was aware that their host had likely polished off three quarters of the potent alcohol in his personal bottle.
Sucking in a deep breath, Ryker raised his glass. Waiting until the others had done the same, he said carefully, “You are an excellent host, Agent Meier. And I agree, our coming exchange is more than worthy of this excellent libation.” After taking a lavish sip of the extraordinary whiskey, Ryker swirled the potent alcohol over his tongue, then swallowed it with a heartfelt sigh. Glancing at his host, who was staring at him through bleary, reddened eyes, Ryker nodded as he put his glass on the table and breathed out an audible sigh.
Allowing his lips to curl in a mirthless smile, he said, “As you no doubt have heard from your detail, sir, there was a raid on your headquarters this evening. It took more than twenty federal agents and a full contingent from the sheriff’s office to accomplish the mission. A mission that included capturing thirty boxes of written materials and a van load of computers, cell phones, and other technical devices as well as arresting three-quarters of the individuals who staff your operation. Again, as I’m sure you are aware, I instigated the raid with the full cooperation of the local and federal agents I appropriated.
“At the moment, a contingent of FBI agents, again under my direction, are combing through the seized materials as well as interviewing the individuals we arrested. I can safely say that the border corruption scheme that we uncovered will go down in our agency’s history as one of the largest and most sophisticated bribery and trafficking schemes we’ve witnessed. The fact that you enlisted members of three different cartels ensures that when we finish analyzing the length and breadth of this crime, I’m confident we will uncover interstate and international criminal activity of momentous proportions.”
Allowing the silence to settle over the room as he took a large swallow of the Macallan, Ryker met Barrett’s glassy stare. “Once I grasped your formidable reach and power, I expected all of the above. However, I must say you caught me off guard with the massive wire fraud and aggravated identity theft scheme you engineered involving the identities of countless legal aliens. Christ, man, you went so far as to use ICE’s official computer database systems to access the official immigration docs of those pitiful people to open lines of credit and personal loans in their names. You even purchased shit for yourself using their fake credit cards you created.”
Ryker pressed his lips together and shook his head. “Why that surprised me as much as it did, I’m not sure. I guess when it came down to it, I expected the cartel involvement, the bribery, the interstate corruption, et cetera, et cetera. But Jesus God, Barrett, why go after the poor saps that made it across the border legally and ensure that their chances of a moment’s peace was a pipe dream at best?” Ryker waved an encompassing hand across the room and said with a heartfelt grimace, “Particularly when you have all of this.” He added with a sigh, “It just seems so . . . small.”
Rising to his feet, Ryker walked across the room and reached for the bottle of Macallan from the bar and refilled Titus’s, Tanya’s and his glass. Glancing at the bottle on the table beside Meier and seeing the scant inches that were left, he cocked an ironic brow. Exchanging a prescient glance with Titus as he walked back to his seat beside Tanya, he murmured, “I presume you are handling your personal libations tonight, correct, Barrett?”
At the older man’s nod, Ryker sank down beside Tanya and reached for her hand. He needed something to settle the conflicting emotions raging through him. Her touch galvanized him. Glaring at their host, he asked with a hard frown, “Help me out, Barrett. As long as I could, I tried to convince myself that I had to be wrong. I tried not to see what was patentl
y obvious. Jesus, Barrett, we could have actually been friends.” At Meier’s silence, to no avail, Ryker sought to control his anger. Pinning Meier with a fierce glower, he demanded, “Why, Barrett? Fuckin’ why? You had everything. All of this and a high-level position in an elite organization in the United fucking States of America. And you did this?” Taking a fortifying gulp of his whiskey, Ryker glared at the perspiring man and shook his head. “Goddammit, Barrett, why?”
Barrett took another sip of whiskey, then met Ryker’s impassioned gaze. He blew out a sigh and said with a shrug, “Hmm, why indeed. First, Agent Thompson, don’t sell yourself short. I’ve been working this shell game for nearly five years under the noses of those half-assed national agents charged with seeking out corruption and graft. I all but waved it in their faces and shoved it up their asses, and until you, no one suspected me. How could they? Apparently, they didn’t believe someone like me would—could—do what I did. You asked, why would someone like me do something so nefarious and so unnecessary?”
Glancing from Titus to Ryker, he shrugged. “Why, Ryker? The answer is simple. Because I could. Why does the billionaire cabinet member pad his travel expenses, cheat on his income tax, and buy off his mistresses? Because, my young friend, he can. He doesn’t believe the rules that apply to lesser men apply to him. As for that chicken shit identity theft scheme involving the identities of hapless aliens, let’s just say I’m easily bored. I’m a glutton for immediate gratification. I like to be entertained even if I have to create the entertainment.”
He paused for a moment and then added, “I know you don’t understand this, but for a man like me, nothing is ever enough. Yes, I liked that marrying a woman I didn’t love put me in the top .001 percent of the country’s wealthiest men. But then what? Hell, you’re an excellent agent; so was I. What do you make a year, Ryker? What do you think our honorable sheriff makes? A nice salary, and for you, the top of the pay scale because you are a recognized superstar. Hell, man. Get real. After what I achieved just by marrying a rich bitch, how could a government salary ever satisfy me?”
He chugged back another swig of whiskey, emptying his glass. “Which brings me back to you. Christ, I would have killed to have a partner as smart as you. Hell, Agent Thompson, together we could have made a couple billion dollars a year. I don’t know when I’ve met a smarter man. Christ, you’re as smart as Titus is, only you are a rule breaker. Which makes you even more powerful than he is. Unfortunately, like the sheriff, you’re one of the good guys.”
Reaching for the nearly empty bottle beside him, Meier managed to pour the last inch and a half into his glass and took a large swallow. His glassy eyes and the dark purplish patches staining his sweaty face made it clear that he was losing his grip. Ryker was surprised when Barrett said in a muddled voice, “Just so you know, Ryker, I told my superior officers before you arrived that they would be missing the opportunity of a lifetime if they didn’t hire you to clean up the mess I’ve made.” Glancing at Tanya, who was sitting frozen, clinging to Ryker’s hand, Meier added, “Now, seeing that you have more than enough reason to stick around, I hope you accept their offer. But goddammit, make sure they triple your fucking salary.”
Seeing Barrett’s eyes growing glassier by the second, Ryker shared a long look with Titus. At Titus’s shrug, Ryker nodded, silently concurring. As Barrett’s eyes glazed over and his grip on his glass was more and more tenuous, Ryker said, “Man, as much as I despise who you are and what you have done, and I never will forgive you for betraying the most incredible country this world has known, I wish you well, sir.” He rose to his feet and lifted his glass to the barely conscious man. “Here’s hoping that the Dark Angel has as good booze in hell as what you’ve shared with me. Knowing how unlikely that is, I can only say, eternity is a long sentence, my friend, and that balancing the scales of justice can be a bitch.”
Yanking his cell phone out of its holster, Ryker punched in a code. Breathing out a hard sigh he said, “Yeah, Paul. You can come and get him. We’ll need the bus. Oh and, man, no need to haul in the EMTs. The coroner will do.”
Chapter 33
As the uniformed men loaded Meier’s body into the ambulance, Tanya leaned up against Ryker, desperate for his strength. Clearly understanding her need, he held her close to him, his arm securely wrapped around her waist. When several of his fellow agents surrounded them, Ryker prepared to answer their questions. Bart Adams, his most senior agent who’d been involved in the case from the beginning, spoke first. Motioning to the stretcher holding Meier’s body, Adams asked in amazement, “Dammit, Ryker, are you telling me that Barrett Meier committed suicide?”
Ryker nodded. “Yeah, Bart. Meier triple-sixed himself.” He added with a dismissive shrug, “Nothing as crude as a gun under his chin for our unrepentant ICE agent. Hell no, Barrett did it by consuming a bottle of Macallan Private Eye single malt Scotch whiskey laced with what I’m assuming we’ll discover is Fentanyl. In that the Macallan he imbibed checks in at the bargain price of five thousand dollars-plus per bottle, a pricy choice, to say the least.” He breathed out a hard sigh and rolled his eyes. “As if Barrett would deign to ingest anything as mundane as the ignoble three-drug death penalty cocktail.” He shook his head and concluded with a sigh, “But hell, if nothing else, he went out in style. Given the size of his ego, not a surprise.”
Holding Tanya tight against him, Ryker turned to Titus and raised his hands in a defeated gesture. Titus moved in next to him and met his troubled gaze. “I’m not surprised you have mixed emotions, Ryker. Meier was a complex man. I’ve known him for years. He wasn’t an easy man to pigeonhole. And no one can say he wasn’t good company. Smart, articulate, irreverent—what’s not to like?”
Ryker nodded, struggling with his seesawing emotions. “Don’t forget, Sheriff, he was corrupt as hell.”
Titus agreed. “Indeed, Agent Thompson. And please don’t you forget that important fact. Also remember that if it hadn’t been for you, Meier would still be corrupting his agency, betraying his country, and shitting you and me—the men who wanted him to be something that he wasn’t.”
Breathing out a hard sigh, Ryker nodded in agreement. “Thanks, Sheriff. I needed that.” Turning to Tanya, he tipped up her chin and gazed into her troubled eyes. “As for you, Miss Tanya the Terrible Trouble, welcome to the world of those hotshot organizations you abhor.” He added with an ironic sneer, “Nothing like seeing the fall of more than thirty corrupt ICE and FBI agents with a few CIA guys mixed in to confirm your low opinion of our supposedly ‘premier’ national law enforcement organizations.”
To his surprise, Tanya glared up at him. “Don’t you dare, Ryker. That is not what I think. Just know I have never been more impressed with the FBI than I am now. Knowing what you accomplished—the incredible scope of the crime you solved and that you did it with grace and . . . I know it sounds weird, but with . . . compassion . . . ” Fighting the tears that were threatening to fall, she couldn’t finish her sentence. Instead, she leaned into him and whispered, “I’m so impressed, Ryker, and so very proud of you.”
Ryker tipped up her chin and smiled down at her. “Thanks, Deputy Trouble. Coming from you, that is high praise indeed.” He made an effort to control his emotions. “But enough of my exploits. I understand from your father that you have engineered an important takedown of your own.”
Titus concurred. “You are correct, Agent Thompson, that is precisely what Deputy Trouble has done.” Turning to Tanya, he said, “To confirm, I just heard from Zane Turner that we have our warrant.” He grinned at her. “How about it, Deputy? Are you ready to show our arrogant agent that we local minions are pretty darn impressive in our own right?”
****
Leading the caravan of CCSO cruisers through the gates to Sledge Perkins’s ranch, Tanya was glad to see Ryker’s Ram parked next to the various trucks. She was still overcome by Ryker’s masterful takedown of Barrett Meier and his criminal enterprise. While it didn’t compare in scope to his
formidable coup, she was excited that he would witness her successful arrest of Manny Davis. Striding to the bunkhouse door, flanked on one side by Gunnar and the sheriff on the other, she nodded to Gunnar. Pounding on the door, he shouted in a booming voice, “Open Up! Cochise County Sheriff’s Office! Coming in!”
Not waiting for an answer, she signaled to Gunnar to break through the door. The sound of splintering wood was music to her ears. As was the sight that met her eyes. All of the guys, including Ryker, were sitting in the great room. The open bottles of rotgut booze and piles of illicit drugs and paraphernalia indicated that at least four of the men were likely drunk or stoned out of their minds. When Pete and Manny jumped to their feet and started toward them, Tanya held up her hand. “Settle down, boys. You may as well get comfortable. My officers and I plan on being here for a while. Or at least until I find what I’m looking for.” At the outraged shouts from all of them, in particular Manny Davis, she waved the sheet of paper in the air. “This is a warrant, fellows, signed by Judge Herman Franks, allowing us to search the premises.”
Amid the shouts and threats from the surprised gang, Ryker rose to his feet and broke through the cacophony. “Mind if we take a look at that warrant, Deputy Trouble? Not that we don’t trust you, but face it, you’ve been known to go out on a limb in the past. I for one would like to see specifically what that supposed warrant allows you to do.”
Tanya stepped forward and shot him a fierce glare. “Sure thing, Burke. Good that you ask. While I’ll pass it around, just know that it allows me and my men to thoroughly search this bunkhouse.”
“What the hell for, Tanya?” Pete Weber asked, moving toward her, a grim expression on his face.
Tanya tossed her head and looked down at the warrant. “To answer your question, Pete, this piece of paper allows us to search these quarters for the express purpose of finding evidence to arrest the man who murdered Violeta Acedo.”