by Becky McGraw
"Our lead story tonight is about the FBI raid at the Diamond Bar ranch today. Authorities made numerous arrests, but they are still looking for several men."
Pictures of Ray Brown, and Carl Calhoun flashed up on the screen, then a blank box with a description of Kane Stone, the newest hire at the ranch, an Aussie cowboy that Trace didn't think knew a thing about what was going on there.
Lord only knew how many others had escaped that they weren't mentioning. There were at least sixty men working out at that ranch. Some he'd never even met. The feds were understaffed, so they only had five men out there, so he bet they didn’t know either. Most of them were newbie agents who didn’t have a clue. Carlos Ramos had been one of them. At least that man had tried to help Ronnie.
Trace wondered how Carlos was doing. Maybe he could call the local hospitals later to check on him. He didn't give a shit about Jay Dawson. That bastard could rot for all he cared. But he did care about Carlos. The agent had been collateral damage in the cluster fuck at the ranch.
He also wondered what would happen to the shipment of kidnapped women that was supposed to arrive at the ranch in a few days. Now that the takedown had happened, there wouldn't be anywhere for the Coyotes to deliver them, or anyone to deliver them to. Ray Brown wouldn’t be stupid enough to meet them, and his second in command, Jay Dawson was probably either dead, in the hospital or in police custody. The human traffickers would have to take them somewhere else. Or kill them.
Until the women were addicted to the drugs they were given at the ranch, they weren't controllable enough to take to the Cantina in Houston to become prostitutes. If Ray or someone didn’t meet them at the drop off point, they would probably be killed. Those girls were expendable. They were nothing more than commodities to those assholes who traded like the horses they stole and ran through the Diamond Bar.
Trace had a bad feeling those women would end up being collateral damage too. If that happened, it would be his fault, because he knew about it and chose to do nothing. He was going to think about that and try to come up with a plan to help them. Only a few of the men at the ranch knew where the drop off point was. The ones in the circle of trust. That didn't include any of the federal guys planted at the ranch. But Trace had followed Ray and Jay the night of the last shipment. So he knew. He just hadn't had time to fill in anyone else yet, so that left it up to him if he wanted to do something about it.
What Trace found strange was that his name hadn't been mentioned in the news report. He guessed it was because his last name would cause a media storm that would only hinder their investigation more. There was no doubt in his mind though, that they were looking for him. Seth said the feds had issued an APB. Just because they hadn't shared that with the media, didn't mean that had changed. Trace only hoped the feds were also taking down the guys up the line of command in that organization. The ones not at the ranch. Those were the men who needed to be arrested. Like Leland and his cohorts. But because the takedown had happened early, before the feds finished gathering evidence, most likely the arrests would stop at Ray Brown. Unless Ray talked, Leland would be free and clear.
And that was his fault. He had made the choice to rescue Ronnie from that ranch, instead of honoring his commitment to Susan Whitmore. Trace knew in her mind, Susan considered what he’d done to be a breach of his commitment to help her. The circumstances behind his actions wouldn’t matter to her. Even without the new charges against him, he would go back to prison. With those added charges, he could be looking at a long stretch this time.
Trace was not going to stick around and let that happen. If things got hot here, or if he thought they weren’t making headway to find answers, he would strike out on his own. Maybe the mysterious Dave Logan could track down Ray Brown. Ronnie seemed to have utmost confidence he could do that. That would mean he was free to leave too, unless Ray had talked to Leland. Then Leland would be after Ronnie too probably.
His mother could probably find out if Leland knew. Trace made a mental note to call her. He needed to anyway to let her know he wasn’t dead. The last thing he wanted to do was cause her more grief, but he was going to have to swear her to secrecy. She was good at keeping secrets though, she had kept Leland’s for thirty years now.
After listening to the entire newscast, the weather came on, and Trace clicked off the TV with a sigh. There hadn't been any mention of a motorcycle accident either, which meant he wasn't dead yet. Ray and the feds were all still looking for him.
Trace needed to stay on his toes so he could protect them. With only a short-range pistol on him, there was no way he could do that. Pretty Boy was gone, and Trace had trashed his bike. If shit hit the fan, he didn’t even have transportation to get out of there, so they would have to stand their ground. He needed better weapons. Since this was a hunting cabin, Trace figured there had to be better guns and ammo somewhere around the house. He got up and decided to go exploring.
Maybe if he was lucky he'd find some clothes too. Although less bulky, Pretty boy was about his size. Some of his clothes would probably work. If they were going to be here a while, he definitely needed more than the dirty socks and jeans he had on.
Ronnie hung up the cell phone and handed it back to Conner. "Thanks. Dave insisted on sending a couple of guys out here tomorrow to make sure we were safe. He’s going to start looking for Ray Brown."
"That makes me feel better." Conner took the phone out of her hand and slid it back into his pocket. "Rooks seems like an asshole, and he hates you. It wouldn't surprise me if he lit out on his own and left you out here. Knowing you, it won't be long until you piss him off," Conner said with a laugh.
"He is an asshole. But he didn't leave me at the ranch when that guy drugged me. I don't think he'd leave me here if something happened. He's an ex-cop and that mentality is something that doesn't go away."
"Well, you might be right, but I don't want to chance it. I'm glad Dave is sending men out here to protect you. I'll be back day after tomorrow with those files we need." With a kiss to her cheek, Conner got into his car, and shut the door. Ronnie watched him until he disappeared into the trees, and then turned to walk back inside.
"Why the hell couldn't I have fallen for that guy?" she asked herself with a shake of her head as she walked inside.
Because he's just like you, and you're not a nice person.
On the surface, Conner was a nice person, but Ronnie knew he hid his horns under a halo. The man was as competitive as they came. He hated to lose, just like she did. When Conner had his sights on something, he didn't pull any punches to get it. That is why Trace Rooks was lucky he was helping them. Conner would help her find out what happened that night four years ago when his partner was killed. Dave would find Ray Brown and his partners, and Leigh Ann Baker would resurface somewhere.
Then Ronnie could get back to her life.
Ronnie had a bad feeling in her gut that Leland Rooks was at the center of it all. That feeling was rarely wrong, and she trusted it. But Trace didn’t trust her. Tonight, they needed to have a Come to Jesus meeting to fix that. It was time to bury the hatchet with him and get the answers she needed to help him. Trace was the only one who could give her those answers.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Ronnie walked back into the house, preparing herself for the fight she knew was coming. She rounded the corner into the gathering room and stopped. Trace was coming down the staircase with his arms loaded down with guns. Big guns, small guns, and boxes of what she assumed was ammunition. And he was dressed like he was about to go hunting.
The camo pants he wore were a little big in the waist and rode low on his hips, and the military green t-shirt was way too tight. Every muscle in his well-defined chest was visible underneath. He looked like a hot military man about to go on some secret mission to rescue someone. He could rescue her any damned time he pleased. But Ronnie wondered where he’d gotten those clothes. Probably in the same place he got the guns.
“You robbing the place? Going on a se
cret mission? Hunting down supper?” Ronnie asked with her hands on her hips.
“No, I’m making sure we can protect ourselves,” he replied flatly as he walked to the sofa to lay all the weapons there. “You know how to shoot?” he asked.
Ronnie snorted. “Hell no. That’s not something that was required to graduate from law school. I’m the one that gets the guys with the guns out of jail.”
“Sometimes.”
Back to that again. This time she’d use it to her advantage. “The ones who deserve to get out,” she volleyed and his dark eyes held obsidian fire when he looked up at her.
“And you’re saying I didn’t?” he asked angrily, as he stood.
“You killed your partner,” she accused.
Ronnie figured a little shock value might get him mad enough to say something he wouldn’t otherwise. She knew damned well he didn’t kill Sean Collins, just like he hadn’t kidnapped or killed Leigh Ann Baker. This man was one of the good guys even though he liked for her and the world to think otherwise. She could see beneath that tough guy act.
Trace picked up a shotgun to crack it open and peer down the barrel. “I didn’t kill Sean and you fucking know that,” he said.
“The judge says you did,” Ronnie replied.
“The judge was paid off, and you know that too.” Trace picked up a box of shells, and extracted two then slid them into the shotgun and snapped it shut. “You were paid off too. Or your firm was,” he said a little too evenly. He looked back at her with the shotgun resting under his arm. “I think that’s what you call a railroad job, when you include the Warden in the mix. But then you know that too, don’t you Veronica?” His eyes looked a little wild, and a lot angry. Dangerous.
The man was armed to the teeth and everyone but her thought he was a rogue cop. If she was smart, she should be at least a little scared. But she wasn’t. Trace Rooks didn’t scare her, and she didn’t scare him. That was probably why she was so damned attracted to him. His edge did it for her.
“No, I don’t, because you won’t talk to me. Tell me what happened, Trace,” Ronnie said and her heart sped up when he pointed the gun toward the fireplace and gazed down the sight. She remembered when Dylan shot that man in the van after the ladies from the R & R Ranch were kidnapped. That was something Ronnie wanted to forget. Seeing the bad guy’s surprise, then his blank stare as he fell to the ground bleeding to death was something she never wanted to see again.
Trace raised the weapon then cocked it open and rested the barrel over his shoulder. “Why the hell should I tell you anything, Ronnie? The last time I came clean with you, I wound up in prison.”
“I want to help you clear your name. I’m the only one who can do that. We can figure out who was behind sending you to jail.”
“You got what you wanted out of the deal, why should you care?”
“Because I need to do this, Trace,” she said walking toward him. “You need me to do this. Who was behind it and why? Was it Leland?” she asked stopping in front of him.
“Yeah, it was Leland. Who else would it be?”
“Why did he want you in prison?”
“Because who would believe a bad cop, a convict, when he told the authorities that his slick daddy, a state Senator, was behind half of the drug trade in Amarillo and Lubbock?”
Ronnie gasped. “Could you prove that? Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”
“He’s my daddy, so I went to him to get an explanation before I dumped the evidence in my Chief’s lap,” Trace said with a shrug. As he walked to the corner by the front door, he added, “Once Sean was killed, it didn’t matter. I had bigger things to worry about like where the hell I was going to get money to pay an attorney I couldn’t afford. One who might actually have a chance of getting me off.”
He sat the gun in the corner then turned back to face her. “Leland generously offered to pay for you to represent me, so I kept my mouth shut. I figured at that point nobody would believe me anyway. The proof disappeared, you sold me down the river and I did two years in the pen,” he recited like it was nothing. “I’m just damned lucky I made it out alive,” Trace finished with a sigh.
“I didn’t know,” Ronnie said as sickness pushed up to her throat. Leland Rooks was worse than she ever imagined. Now, she was more determined than ever to get to the bottom of what happened during that trial. Leland needed to be stopped for good. It was time for the good Senator to pay for his sins. And there couldn’t be a sin greater than setting up his own son to spend three years in jail, or be killed in prison.
“Bullshit. Like I said before your acting skills need improvement, Red,” Trace said as he picked up another weapon off of the sofa to load it. He slid the bolt on the rifle and peered down the barrel, then picked up a box of shells and sat down to load it.
Ronnie stiffened her shoulders as insult warred with the guilt and anger inside of her. “I. Didn’t. Know. I went into the defense side of the law for a reason, Trace. To make sure innocent people don’t go to jail. I can’t tell you whether the partners were paid off or not, but I can guarantee you that I wasn’t. If you had told me what was going on—“
“You would have done exactly the same thing. You wanted that promotion. Getting it was your payoff. It’s the same damned thing,” Trace countered gruffly, as he stuffed bullets into the rifle. “I found some clothes up there that will probably fit you. Why don’t you go take a shower,” he suggested and Ronnie recognized he was done talking.
Well that was too bad, because she wasn’t nearly done. She sat down at the other end of the sofa. “What happened at that ranch? Why were you there?”
“A story for another day. I’m tired and need to get these guns ready,” he said nonchalantly. He leaned the rifle against the end table then picked up a mean looking gun and popped a button. The bottom fell out of the butt and plopped into his hand. Trace picked up a different box of bullets, and started shoving them into the piece in his hand.
“What about Leigh Ann Baker?” Ronnie asked.
“What about her? A little squirrely, but a pretty woman,” he said with a laugh.
“That’s not what I want to know, and you know it. Where is she and what did you have to do with her disappearance?”
Trace huffed out a frustrated breath then looked at her. “I’m not on trial here, counselor. You can stop with the interrogation. I’m not saying another word.”
“What if I pay your price?” she asked smoothly.
Trace leaned forward and laid the clip on the coffee table then rested the semi-automatic rifle against the table. “What price is that?” he asked studying her intently.
“You said you’d give me the information, if I give you a blow job. Well, I’m prepared to do that, if the offer is still on the table.”
The look on Ronnie’s face said she was serious. Trace went rock hard just thinking about those full lips of hers wrapped around his dick.
“As I recall it was under the table,” he replied, wanting to stroke himself so badly he could barely keep his hand on his thigh. Her eyes dropped to his crotch, she licked those lips and Trace got harder.
“I’m serious,” she said scooting to the edge of the sofa.
He should feel guilty. But he didn’t feel an ounce as he unzipped his pants, and he did take the opportunity to stroke his throbbing erection.
“You said you would bite me,” he said as he stroked himself again. “I suggest you think twice about that.”
Her eyes met his. “And you said you’d spank me,” she said with delight and shivered. Holy shit. His palms tingled to feel the soft globes of her round ass under his hands. When Ronnie dropped to her knees on the floor and scooted over to him, Trace was so hard the metal zipper of the camo pants cut into his skin.
He lifted his hips and shoved them down to his knees. He was not going to waste this opportunity that was for sure. Her warm brown eyes met his, as she closed her hand around him. A tremor passed through Trace when she licked her lips again. He held h
is breath as her head lowered toward his cock. Tingles floated through his bloodstream when her hot breath brushed over him. The warm wetness of her tongue licked around his head and a tremor shook him.
“Mmm…” she murmured as she covered just the tip of his cock with her lips.
The vibration traveled up his body to hit him in the chest. No wonder Leland wanted Ronnie Winters, the Shark Lady definitely knew what she was doing. That thought sent ice water crashing through his veins.
He put his hands on the sides of her head and pushed her away. “No.”
She pulled back farther to meet his eyes. “What the hell?”
“Did you put those lips on Leland’s dick?” Trace had to know. If she had he was done with this. He shouldn’t have had sex with her earlier without asking that important question. Especially since they hadn’t used a condom. That was just stupid. He always used a condom. But they’d been in the tub, and in the heat of the moment.
“Hell no,” she said flatly, and the disgusted look on her face told Trace all he needed to know. His hands eased, and he dropped them down to the sofa beside him.
“I had to know,” he said dropping his head on the back of the sofa.
“If Leland had suggested it, I would have bitten him,” Ronnie growled as she took him in her hand again, a little firmer in her grip this time.
“I know how he is, and his taste for beautiful women. You’re just his type.”
“Well, he isn’t mine,” she said, and her fingers tightened around him.
That knowledge sent relief through his body and he relaxed. When she hesitated, he glanced down at her. “Carry on,” he said with a laugh.
It felt she was moving in slow motion as he watched the top of her glossy red head lower toward his lap again. His muscles tensed in anticipation, her hair brushed his thighs and Trace shivered. Then the wet heat of her mouth closed over him, and every muscle in his body went rigid. Trace gritted his teeth and closed his eyes. His hair stood on end and his skin felt like it was on fire. The entire focus of his universe was on her hot mouth around him. She eased her lips down his length to meet her hand at the base of his cock.