Trouble With the Law

by Becky McGraw

  “Hey, Dave,” Ronnie said from behind him.

  She walked up beside him, and stuck her hand out to Logan. He smiled and took it. A smile for the Shark Lady? He must not know her as well as Trace did or he wouldn’t be smiling. He’d be heading back out that door and getting as far away from here as he could.

  “Good to see you, Vee,” Dave said with a short laugh then his eyes flitted to Trace and his smile faded. “You doing okay, sugar?”

  Vee again. It looked like Conner Lucas wasn’t the only one who called her that. Was there a history there too? Ugh, had Ronnie Winters slept with every man in Texas, including himself? He could see her going for a tough guy like Dave Logan, but he couldn’t see Dave going for Veronica Winters. That man would want a compliant woman, and that was not something that described the Shark Lady.

  “Move that gun so I can give you a hug,” she said surprising the shit out of Trace.

  His smile widened and Dave slid the gun to his back, then opened his arms. Ronnie stepped forward and hugged him. “Thanks for your help,” she said into his chest then stepped away. “How is CeeCee doing?” she asked.

  “Cecelia is doing fine, if she could stay away from bad boys. I swear I’m running out of places to hide the bodies,” he said with a shake of his head.

  “Your sister is a good girl. You need to give her some room to find herself.”

  “Room hell, isn’t a continent’s space enough?” he asked.

  “She’s out of the country?” Ronnie asked.

  He huffed a breath. “Yeah, despite everything I told her she joined the Army. She has this idea she’s going to get trained and join my group. I refused to train her, so she joined the damned Army. Now they sent her to Afghanistan, and I’m worried shitless.”

  “Sounds like she’s grown up to be my kind of woman,” Ronnie said with a smile.

  “She’s just like you, unfortunately,” Dave replied. “Hardheaded. Obstinate. Has to learn lessons the hard way. Her tour is up in a few months, and I can’t wait until she gets back home. I talked to Joel and she’s going to work at the R & R for a while when she gets out, but I know she’ll be pestering me to work for me.”

  “You trying to distract her?’

  “I sure as hell am not going to hire her,” Dave replied indignantly. “She’ll welcome a rest when she gets home. And you know she’s used to ranch work. I think it’ll be good for her. Definitely safer.”

  Yeah, Ronnie knew that his sister had worked the family ranch until she graduated college. She must’ve joined the military as soon as she graduated. Both Dave and his sister had been raised on the family ranch on the outskirts of Amarillo. That ranch had been in their family for thirty years or more. His father still worked it every day even though he had to be nearly seventy now.

  Against all odds, Ronnie and Dave had been friends in high school even though he was a few years older and they didn’t have a helluva lot in common. Ronnie wondered if he felt sorry for her and her brother, and that’s why he invited them to their ranch so often. Especially on holidays when her parents were off doing their own thing.

  His sister Cecelia was a couple of years younger than Ronnie and had dated her younger brother Cade for a while. Ronnie thought that might eventually go somewhere, but after his first year in college, Cade had joined the military and that was that. That was too damned bad.

  Ronnie shook her head to clear it. “Thanks for coming, Dave. Ya’ll come on in and Trace can give you a rundown on what’s going on.”

  Ronnie turned and walked into the huge gathering room. Trace followed Dave and his men into the gathering room. He paced in front of the fireplace, and agitation practically buzzed around him like a force field. Ronnie took a chair and looked at him. “Trace why don’t you sit down so we can talk?” she urged.

  He cast her a hot look, but he stopped pacing. “I’m fine.”

  “What are we doing here?” Dave asked. He was leaned casually back against the sofa where he sat with his arm over the back. His ankle rested on his knee, but his foot rocked impatiently where it hung over his knee. The two men with him were quiet, sitting on the edge of the sofa near him. The sofa was large, but so were the three men sitting there. From arm to arm, it was all testosterone and bulky muscle.

  Trace sucked in a deep breath through his nose, then exhaled slowly, before looking at Dave. “We’re rescuing between ten or more women who have been trafficked into Texas from Mexico. They were supposed to be taken to the Diamond Bar ranch, before going to a Cantina in Houston,” Trace informed.

  “But?” Dave asked.

  “The Diamond Bar isn’t available now since the feds took them down. Ray Brown usually met the Coyote at the drop off point, but now he won’t, because he’s on the run from the feds. That means the women will either be killed or turned loose in the wilderness. Either way they die if we don’t rescue them.”

  “And Trace can’t tell the feds, because they think he’s dead, and he doesn’t want the women turned over to INS,” Ronnie piped in with a glance at him. “He thinks they will be shipped back to Mexico and they’ll wind up as prostitutes there too.”

  Dave eased his leg down to the floor then leaned forward with his elbows on his thighs. He frowned. “And that’s our problem how?”

  Every muscle in Trace’s big body bunched, and his hands fisted at his sides. A muscle ticked at his jaw very near the scar on his left cheek. “I didn’t invite you here, or ask for your help. Ronnie did. If it’s too much for you, just let me know. I’ll take care of it.”

  Dave laughed loudly, and held up his hands. “Whoa, Cowboy. I just asked for an explanation before I send myself or my men into danger for nothing. There’s no question that we can handle whatever we come across tonight. I’m just questioning the necessity of it, that’s all.”

  Ronnie let out the breath she’d been holding when Trace nodded and he relaxed.

  “I watched those women be herded in there for six months. They were usually in bad shape when they got there and worse when they finally left. They were drugged, beaten and raped before they were sent to Houston. I watched, because there wasn’t a damned thing I could do without compromising the investigation. With this shipment, I can do something, and I’m going to,” Trace said gruffly.

  “So what are you going to do with them after you rescue them?” Dave asked evenly.

  “Bring them he—“ Trace started, but Ronnie cut him off.

  He was not bringing those women here if she could help it. “I thought you could bring them back to Dallas with you…”

  “Think again, sweetheart,” Dave said darkly with a twist of his lips. “I am not getting pulled over on the way back home and arrested for human trafficking.”

  “Dave—“

  “No,” he said flatly. “You’ll have to figure something else out. As much as I love you, Ronnie, I’m not taking that chance,” Dave added with a shake of his head.

  Ronnie heard the seriousness in his voice, saw it in his handsome face. She knew her friend long enough to know he was not going to change his mind. She purposely hadn’t told Dave what tonight was about, because she thought she could convince him to help once he was here. It looked like that wasn’t going to happen. Damn.

  “I understand.”

  Trace stopped pacing and faced Dave with his hands on his hips. “Just stay here with Ronnie to make sure she’s safe and loan me your van. I’ll handle it.”

  “Oh, hell no you’re not!” Ronnie shouted and stood. “You don’t speak Spanish and I’m going with you! That was our deal.”

  Trace’s angry, determined eyes swung to hers. “If your friend helped. He’s not willing to do that, so I’m going alone,” Trace said.

  “I didn’t say I wouldn’t help,” Dave corrected. “There’s just a limit to the help I’m willing to give. I’m not hauling those women five hours back to Dallas with me. I’ll go with you, but Ronnie is staying here with Caleb.” He glanced at the man on the far end of the sofa and he nodded.<
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  Anger shot through her. Ronnie stepped around the chair to face the men who were trying to manage her. “You don’t speak Spanish either, Dave. And you ought to know me well enough to know I don’t take well to being told what to do. I’m going,” she said firmly.

  “I speak some Spanish,” the man beside Dave inserted shortly. Those were the first words he’d spoken since they got there.

  In rapid fire Spanish, Ronnie told him she thought he was a nutless, badly-dressed deaf mute with more ammunition in his weapon than in his dick. His eyebrows lifted, his eyes widened, but he didn’t reply. Because it was obvious he had no idea what she’d just said. Ronnie laughed smugly.

  Trace looked down at her with a smirk, and folded his arms over his chest. With a glance at Dave he said, “I guess the lady is going with us?” That gave her pause. Did he understand what she’d said? Had Trace lied to her about not speaking Spanish? The thought made laughter bubble in her chest.

  “Don’t guess we have much choice do we?” Dave replied with a smirk.

  “Damn right I’m going with you,” she said as if that were a given. Secretly she was relieved that she’d proven her point, because she knew these guys could physically keep her from going otherwise. And they were as stubborn as she was.

  The two men, her friend and Trace, were a lot alike in their mannerisms she noticed suddenly. And their attitudes were alike too. Too much testosterone and too little thought behind their words and decisions most of the time. It was infuriating much of the time, but a turn on too. They stood up to her when other men cowered.

  At least that was a turn on where Trace Rooks was concerned. She’d never felt like that about Dave, but she knew a helluva lot of women who did feel that way about him. Trace reminded her of Dave, had the same good qualities, but he had that something that was missing with Dave for her. Sex appeal on steroids. It poured off of him like rainwater off a tin roof. And she was drenched by it every time she got near him.

  “You’ll need to find some better clothing,” Trace said as his eyes slid down her body to her toes. She had on the only thing she could find. Too short and tight shorts with a too tight tank top. Her wardrobe consisted of what Conner’s sister accidentally left behind in her room. The only thing not too small were the Ked tennis shoes she found in the closet. Those couldn’t belong to Rilee, because like everything else about her, her feet were petite too. Ronnie had just been thankful to find them yesterday.

  “I don’t have anything else,” she said folding her arms over her chest where his eyes seemed to be glued.

  “I saw some smaller sized camo in the room I’m in. Go in there and see if you can find something. We’re going to get the weapons together and come up with a plan.”

  Ronnie snorted, but shoved up to her feet. “Yes, sir,” she said snapping off a smart salute. “Anything else, general?”

  “Yeah, lose the attitude,” Trace growled and Dave and the other two men chuckled.

  “Fuck you,” she said in Spanish under her breath as she spun on her heel and stomped toward the stairs.

  “Dime cuándo, magnífico,”Trace replied sexily in stiltedSpanish,and his laughter echoed behind her as she reached the stairs.

  Say when, gorgeous.

  The bastard understood and evidently spoke Spanish. But for whatever reason, he was letting her go with them, and she wasn’t giving him a chance to change his mind, Ronnie thought, as she took the stairs two at a time.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “They’re too short, and a little tight in the hips, but what do you think?” Ronnie asked as she spun in a slow circle, before facing him again. Trace swallowed and shifted his stance. How the hell did she look? Like a fucking walking wet dream. A woman he’d like to drag up into a deer stand and do something other than hunt.

  Trace snorted and dragged his eyes from hers. “It’s not a fashion contest. They’ll probably see your white legs for miles in the woods.” She had rolled up the pants to just below her knees so her well-toned calves were on display between them and the combat boots she wore.

  “I’m a redhead, Trace,” she reminded him defensively.

  As if he didn’t know that. He knew. Inside and out, Ronnie Winters’ was a redhead. A true redhead right down to the curls between her legs. With a growl, he jerked the AR-15 that Dave Logan had given him from where it rested against the sofa, and slammed a magazine in the stock.

  “Where did you get those boots?” he asked gruffly.

  “They’re a little small. Must’ve been Conner’s when he was a kid. They were at the back of the closet.”

  The black t-shirt Ronnie wore must’ve been Conner Lucas’s when he was a kid too. It looked like it was made for a ten-year-old boy. Her perfect breasts were outlined under the tautly stretched material. And her damned nipples were hard. She didn’t have on a bra again. Shit. “You didn’t find a bra in there?” he asked snidely glancing away.

  She laughed. “The one I found wouldn’t have done a bit of good, so no.” She glanced around then asked. “Where’s Dave and his men?”

  “Loading the van. If you took any longer, we were going to leave your ass.”

  “That wouldn’t have been smart, because you would’ve had to come back here sooner or later. And it wouldn’t have been pretty,” she threatened.

  “No, what’s not smart is us bringing you with us at all. I can communicate with those women just fine.”

  “Why are you bringing me with you then?” she asked with a short agitated breath, as she folded her arms under her breasts. They jiggled enticingly above her forearms and heat shot through him. That was the sixty-four thousand dollar question.

  Why was he bringing her?

  Because leaving her here alone, or even with Dave’s man Caleb, went against the grain. He needed to know she was safe. The only way he would know that if she was with him. But Trace tried to convince himself it was because he could use Dave and both of his men for backup just in case.

  “You’re staying in the van, got that?” Trace said as he slung the strap of the weapon over his shoulder and leaned down to pick up the camo backpack with his other weapons and supplies.

  “Don’t blame me when one of those women kicks you in the balls then,” she said with a sharp laugh. “If they see a woman with you, it’ll make them feel more comfortable.”

  He cast her a hot glance. That might be true, but she would be safer in the van. “I’ll take my chances. Let’s go. It’s getting dark, and we have a good drive to get there.” Trace walked past her out the door, and didn’t look back to see if she followed. If he was lucky, she’d slam the door and stay here.

  Trace met Dave Logan and Caleb by the back of the van and threw his backpack inside. “Ya’ll ready to hit the road?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” Dave replied as he shut the back door of the van with a metallic click. Ronnie walked up and he tossed her a camo hat. “Put that on, Red. Your hair will glow like a neon sign out there in the woods.”

  “She won’t be in the woods,” Trace told him.

  “We’ll play it by ear,” Ronnie retorted breezily as she shoved the hat on her head, pulling her hair through the hole in the back. Trace started to set her straight, but didn’t feel like arguing with her now. She was staying in the van, and that’s all there was to it. He grabbed the handle on the van door and slid the side panel open. Ronnie hopped inside and he heard her gasp.

  “What?” he asked leaning inside.

  “Looks like we’re ready for World War III,” she replied as she ducked to move across the van. Trace got inside, then Caleb got in and shut the door. Trace’s eyes worked along the wall and he saw she was right. They were definitely well armed and organized. The guns weren’t scattered in the van, they lined the wall in racks. Trace felt better about the whole situation and his confidence they might be successful tonight inched up.

  Jamie sat on the passenger seat, then closed the door. He reached back over the seat and handed them radios. “These have a GPS built
into them, so if you get lost in the woods, you can find your way back to the road, or we can find you,” he informed with a laugh.

  All of the equipment Dave Logan had given him was top-notch, military grade stuff. This guy must do well in his business to afford this kind of equipment, Trace thought. Maybe he should talk to him about a job, since he was now unemployed.

  Nah, what he really wanted to be was a rancher. Once he got the mess his life had become sorted out, he wanted peace not excitement. If he got it sorted out at all. If that didn’t happen, he would be someone else, somewhere else.

  But Trace needed to deal with the present, before he could contemplate a future. If he made it out of this whole mess alive, he’d think about it then. “Dave, do you have ski masks? I think it would be best if we wore them, so whoever we run across doesn’t identify us if we’re seen.”

  Dave turned his head to look at Jamie and he nodded. “Hand me that backpack behind you,” Jamie said.

  Trace reached into the back and hefted the backpack over the seat. He shoved it toward him. The man unzipped the pack and pulled out a pack of black knit masks and ripped the packaging open. He handed each of them one, then stuffed the rest back inside.

  “Make sure you keep your head down, and ID with hand signals, so we don’t accidentally blow your head off out there in the woods,” Jamie said. “It’ll be dark out there, and with the masks on we won’t be able to see your face.”

  Beside him Caleb shifted in the seat. “Yeah, with night vision we can see the signals,” he added.

  Trace laughed. “Night vision too? What are you guys commandos?” he asked.

  Dave hadn’t given him night vision goggles, but it sounded like he would. If they weren’t successful tonight, it wouldn’t be because they didn’t have the right equipment. Hell, with just the three of them they could probably take out a brigade of bad guys.

  Trace wished the police department had been so well-equipped. Maybe Sean wouldn’t be dead. Grief tried to surface inside of him, but he pushed it back where it belonged. In the past. He had to focus on the present and keep his eye on the prize, or he could very well wind up dead tonight too.