Silent Deceit

by Kallie Lane

  "What happened to you?"

  "Some idiot cowboy stomped on me when we were dancing last night. Broke a couple of my toes."

  Skip edged Natasha past Deuce. The slimy bastard gave him the creeps. "Yep, and then I broke his face."

  "Nice one," Deuce laughed, nudging his chin at Natasha. "You can take inventory with Rena if she ever shows up. Liquor, beer, glasses, dishes; let's see what got damaged and what we need to replace. Be sure to include the upstairs bar in the count. And clean up the breakage."

  "I'm here, boss." Rena rushed in behind them, looking pale and drawn. She wiped rain droplets from her face with a tissue.

  "What's a matter? You have a late night?" Deuce leered at her, hands on his hips. "You look like shit, missy. Grab a coffee and get cracking. Lots to do today."

  Skip held back the urge to wipe the smirk off Deuce's face with an elbow to his teeth. Kingman damn well knew why Rena was dragging her heels this morning. Breathing deep, he loosened his fists and watched the women head for the coffee pot. Time enough to pound on Deuce's face after they found Zach. And his gut said he'd have to stand in line to do it. Behind Blue. "Where do you want me?"

  "You can put my office to rights. Same deal; record the damage and save what you can. Toss the rest."

  "I'm on it." Skip headed for the stairs, his adrenaline spiking. Finally, a chance to gather Intel on the creep.

  "Don't go snooping into any file cabinets. They're locked...I already checked. And stay off my computer!"

  We'll see about that. He sauntered through the bar, taking note of Deuce's goon squad. Not too many in evidence today. Mitch helped Natasha and Rena with the inventory. Moshpit rode herd on the construction crew repairing the tree damage to the wall. A couple of goons kept eyes on the men carrying in windows to replace the shattered ones. Mostly they refreshed their coffee and donut supply from the makeshift serving area.

  The stairs groaned as Skip made his way to the second floor. A door on the right stood open, providing a view into the upstairs lounge. The smell of cigar smoke and stale sex permeated the air. He nearly gagged, didn't envy Natasha and Rena the task of taking inventory in there. Maybe they could open a window.

  The office was on his left. Man, the damage was extensive in Deuce's inner sanctum. An outer wall was boarded up, sheets of heavy plastic flapping at the edges every time a gust of wind blew through the cracks. Skip focused on searching for clues to Zach's disappearance. The fact the office would be cleaned in the process was only a side benefit for Deuce.

  He cleared a space against an inner wall to stack smaller items. Worked through the morning pulling electronics and memorabilia out of the debris. And the handy, dandy, assault rifle he'd found stashed in a corner. Illegal? Hell yes, but would he mention it to Deuce? Not if he planned to live through the day. No ammo for the long gun and he wasn't armed.

  He righted a couple of wall hangings and stopped dead. The first was a framed sepia colored drawing of a map, circa 1810. The legend at the bottom identified it as Kingman Coal Mining, and appeared to include a hundred square miles of real estate. The second was a yellowed photograph of a group of men sporting handlebar moustaches, ill fitting suits, walking canes, and top hats. Their names were listed below. At the center of the group was Jeremiah 'Deuce' Kingman, owner and operator of the coal mine. Holy crap! Deuce was his namesake. It made sense he was a direct descendent on old Jeremiah's family tree. But what did it mean?

  "Hey! What are you looking at?" Moshpit appeared out of nowhere, not easy to do with his crater face and bulky, no neck body. Moving quick as a cobra, he snatched the photo out of Skip’s hand and tossed it in the keeper pile. "You like old stuff?"

  Skip nodded. "I'm a bit of a history buff."

  "You don't say? Well, save it for trolling graveyards," Moshpit said. "Now get back to work."

  As soon as Moshpit disappeared down the stairwell, Skip grabbed the photo again. He focused on the landscape behind the men standing at the gates of the mining operation. Alarm bells clanged inside his head. A mountain range loomed in the background, the same one that sat behind Deuce's club, roughly two hundred years later. A piece of the puzzle surrounding Trailblazer's slid into place.

  His mind spun off on a tangent. Coal mines meant underground tunnels and railway cars. The means to stash and move contraband without law enforcement being the wiser. No wonder Deuce had been off their radar until Zach's disappearance. Whatever he was up to, no one saw it happening above ground.

  They needed maps of the area, an X-marks-the-spot overview of old tunnels and mineshafts. There was another way in—a back door to Trailblazer's—he was sure of it. The key was finding it, and taking down Deuce's operation before he had time to hide the evidence. And Zach. Jesus. Natasha's brother might already be dead. Resting for all eternity in a mineshaft, right beneath his feet.

  Skip hit disconnect on his phone and glanced at Natasha. "Blue's going to meet us at the hotel. It's up to you to convince Rena to come with. I don't think she will listen to me. "

  "That's easier said than done." Natasha sighed as she searched the club for the absentee bartender. "She was here a minute ago. Now I don't know where she's gone."

  "She probably needed a nap after she got roofied last night. Let's check out her apartment." Skip took her hand as they exited by the back entrance. The rain had stopped, wisps of smoke from Trailblazer's fireplace floating on clear, autumn air. At least tomorrow promised better weather, Natasha thought. And with a bit of luck, she might even find her brother.

  Crap, the helplessness she felt was destroying her brain cells. Listen to me. I'm resorting to crystal balls instead of chasing down solid leads. She was a cop, not a fortuneteller. Luck and Ouija boards wouldn't help her one darn bit. Unfortunately, she was starting to believe that nothing would.

  Skip climbed the stairs behind her, and she rapped on Rena's apartment door. "Hey! It's me."

  The door opened a crack. "Go away. I'm busy."

  "Look, we need you to come with us to the hotel. Blue is meeting us there."

  "I can't right now. Tigz just got back. He's soaking wet and exhausted. And he's in a bad mood. I'll talk to you later." Rena shut the door in her face. Natasha heard the lock click.

  "For the love of Mike!" She whipped out her cell phone and called Blue. Did he want her to stay with Rena or meet him in town? Five seconds later, she listened to dead air. She glanced at Skip. "Guess he's on his way."

  "I figured." He tipped her chin and brushed a kiss across her mouth. "It won't take him long to get here. He spent the afternoon at the local library."

  "You're kidding me. The poor librarian. I don't imagine she sees the likes of Blue in the stacks very often." And just like that, the tears started to fall for her awkward, dumb-as-a-post brother. The only person she knew who still had a plastic pen protector in his shirt pocket. Electrical tape held his glasses together, for heaven's sake, and she imagined people stared at him in the library too. Of course, she also knew Zach was a con artist, his nerdy persona hiding his criminal side. And still she cried.

  Skip wrapped his arms around her, sat on the stairs, and tugged her into his lap. Perched on his knee, she felt like a child. Which didn't slow her waterworks. Damn it, why couldn't he just sock her in the shoulder and demand she pull herself together?

  Natasha bit down hard on her bottom lip. "What if we don't find Zach?"

  "We will, Tas. We won't give up until we do." He kissed her again, this time with a lot of tongue. She opened, losing herself in the moment. His peppermint taste, the feel of his strong arms sheltering her from the cold eased the fear churning her insides, and took some of the sadness away. "We'll keep looking."

  A sound in the distance caught her attention. Natasha recognized the revs of her CO's Harley V-ROD roaring up the logging road. Another few minutes and Blue came crashing out of the brush like a wild man, pushing them aside to take the stairs two at a time. He briefly glanced down at them. "Jeez, why don't you two rent a room?"


  "We did," Skip said. "But somehow we never have it to ourselves."

  "Hey, it's paid for by law enforcement. Live with it." Blue banged on Rena's door. "Open up, sweet cheeks, or I'll break it down."

  "Will you quit the racket?" Rena threw the door wide. "What the heck is the matter with you?"

  "I want to see Tigz."

  "He's sleeping."

  "Not anymore." Blue picked Rena up under the arms and deposited her on the small porch. "Stay out here with Skip."

  Not waiting for an answer, Blue pushed inside. Natasha followed behind him, scanning the small apartment for the biker. There was no place for a big man to hide, unless he was under the bed. She dropped to her knees, making sure Blue had his gun drawn before she lifted the edge of the quilt. No one was there. "He can't have gotten far."

  "Rena?" Blue shouted. "I'm running out of patience. Where's Tigz?"

  "What, are you blind? He's lying on the bed." She poked her head around the corner. "See? There he is."

  Natasha looked at the bed and swallowed hard. The moth-eaten fur quilt moved. "Uh, Blue? I don't think I've seen that furry blanket on Rena's bed before. And its eyes are staring right at you. What is that?"

  At least thirty-five pounds of angry cat sprang to its feet, growling and hissing. Claws bared, it launched itself through the air—aiming straight for Falcone. Arms pinwheeling, her CO tried to get out of its path. He didn’t make it, the cat raking its claws down his arms.

  Natasha shrieked.

  Skip cleared the threshold with his fists up and legs spread in a fighter's stance. He shoved Natasha behind him, took one look at the flying feline, and let loose with an f-bomb. "Motherfuck!"

  Chapter Six

  Skip barely had time to move out of the way before Tigz raced past him for the stairs and sprang into the woods. A silver blur with the facial markings of a cheetah, he had black spots on his body and a black ringed tail. Judging from his height and weight, Skip figured he wasn't a domestic feline, but something else entirely. "What the hell was that? I'm betting he's a hybrid of some kind that's crossed with a wildcat."

  "I've never seen anything like him before," Natasha said, shielding her eyes with a hand as she followed Tigz's progress into the forest. "Maybe he's on the endangered list."

  "If not, he soon will be...once I have him in my gun sights," Blue grumbled, applying pressure to the gouges on his forarms with the clean towel Rena handed him.

  Oh-oh, Skip had a feeling his CO would be on the endangered list himself once Rena got through with him. She didn't appear real happy to see her Tigzie heading back to the great outdoors.

  "This is your fault," Rena shouted, jabbing a finger at Blue's chest. "You barged into my home and scared him half to death!"

  "Look, Rena." Natasha's brows knit together on a scowl as she slid between Blue and the other woman, no doubt to prevent more blood being shed, namely Blue's. "If it's anyone's fault, you're to blame. First, you led us to believe Tigz was a man. Then you refused to come with us after work today. You also said Tigz was with you and he was in a bad mood, which could mean any damn thing. For all we knew, he was an a-hole biker who planned to beat the bejesus out of you as soon as we left you alone."

  Rena processed that info and backed off a little. She eyed Blue surreptitiously, as if unsure what to do next. "If that's true then I apologize. I admit I enjoyed the gag when you thought Tigz was a guy, but I guess I carried it too far."

  "Yeah, you did." Blue folded the bloody towel and handed it back to her. "But I'll let it slide, providing you toe the line from here on in. Now grab a jacket and pack a bag. You're not staying here tonight."

  "Sure." She turned to walk into her apartment. "Just give me a minute to leave food and water out and open a window for Tigz, in case he comes back."

  "What?" Blue cracked a grin from ear-to-ear. "You have a water buffalo in your fridge to feed this guy?"

  Forty minutes later, Skip swung the pickup onto Canyon Creek Road. Blue rode shotgun beside him. Natasha and Rena shared the jump seat in back. They had the V-ROD secured in the truck bed.

  The night was black, lots of cloud cover and no stars in the sky. Daylight had turned to dark in the time it took them to place their orders at the fast food joint, and pass along the drive thru line to pick them up at the far side of the building.

  Rena gathered the empty food wrappers and cups while Skip kept eyes on the road and questioned his CO. "You want to fill us in? Tell us where we're going?"

  "Sure." Blue turned sideways in the seat, crossing a booted foot over his opposite knee. "Thanks to Mary-Jane, the helpful librarian, I'm the proud recipient of a land surveyor map for this area, dating back to when Kingman Coal Mining was in operation. She also put me in touch with a retired geologist up here who dabbles in prospecting. When I mentioned Deuce Kingman to him on the phone, he clammed up...said he'd only talk to me face-to-face. I'm guessing he has some stories to tell."

  "Yeah, but he probably wants to see your RCMP creds first," Skip mused. "I hope you brought your ID, 'cuz we don't exactly look like feds."

  "No worries. It's hidden in the lining of my belt. What about you?"

  "Would you believe it's at home in my bureau drawer?" Skip processed the eye roll Blue sent his way. Sure, his boss might be slightly miffed, but they all knew they would be signing their death warrants to get caught with police credentials when working undercover. He figured Blue had only added his to his belt that afternoon, and most likely kept it sealed in his gas tank the rest of the time. "Tas? What about you?"

  "It's sitting in my safety deposit box at the bank in Calgary. I'm here on vacation, remember?"

  "Holy cow! What's that?" Rena unsnapped her seatbelt and leaned forward between the front seats. "I think something is on fire up the road."

  She was right. The glow turned into major fireworks with the sound of an ear-splitting explosion.

  "Christ! It must be Wilder's place." Tossing Rena his cell phone, Blue reached for his Glock and checked the load. "Call it in!"

  "Tas, grab the 12-guage off the gun rack." Skip hit the gas pedal and wheeled into the driveway. Revving on the incline, he reached in a jean pocket and threw her a set of keys. "The shells are locked in the drawer underneath."

  Natasha lost no time racking the shotgun as he screeched to a halt. "Good to go. I'll cover you while you search for Wilder."

  That's what Skip needed to hear. He couldn't carry weaponry and a possible victim at the same time. They charged from the pickup and raced for the barn. The blaze from its roof shot twenty feet into the air. Thank God, it hadn't spread to the house. Yet.

  He and Blue opened the doors in tandem with Natasha as back up. That's when Blue noticed Rena in the mix. "Get back to the truck."

  "I can't hear you! I'll free the animals while you find Wilder!" She bolted into the building the second the doors slid on their tracks. Blue followed her into the smoke with a curse.

  "They've gone left," Natasha shouted, eyeing the flames eating through the ceiling. It could collapse at any second. "We'll go right."

  "Hang onto my belt, and stay low!" The smoke was thick, making it hard to breathe. Skip pulled off his jacket, covering his mouth and nose. Natasha did the same.

  "Wilder? Where are you? Answer me!"

  "I see him!" Natasha pointed a few paces ahead of them. The man lay unconscious against the wall. "Blue, we've found Wilder!"

  Skip swept the older man into a firefighter's carry and reversed direction for the doors. "You take the lead, Tas. There might be unfriendlies waiting for us outside."

  "I got it." Natasha hooked his hand on her waistband, exactly where his fingers wanted to be under better circumstances.

  He hoped Wilder was still alive, but there was no time to check for vitals or apply CPR. Dead or alive, they were bringing him out. As they made it outside the doors and hit the dirt, he could hear the terrified bray of a mule coming from the far side of the barn. Jesus, would Rena and Blue be able to free it in ti
me?

  Natasha knelt on one knee, sweeping back and forth with the shotgun, searching for the bastards who had started the blaze. Yeah, he'd smelled the accelerant when they'd opened the barn doors. The fire was no accident. The good news? Wilder was still alive. Skip listened to his chest as he breathed. And counted the seconds Blue and Rena were still inside the barn.

  Fire trucks, EMTs, and black and whites roared up the drive. Only then did Natasha lower the shotgun. Damn, he was proud of her. "Stay with Wilder. I'm going back for the others."

  "No, Skip!" She clutched his shirt when he sprang to his feet. "The firefighters will do it."

  "There's no time, baby." He brushed her cheek with a kiss, angling for the barn again.

  The roof collapsed with a roar, with Rena and Blue still inside. Skip fell to his knees, wanting to weep at the injustice.

  "My f-fault." Skip held Natasha in his arms. The more he tried to console her, the harder she choked back her tears. Damn it, she was a cop, not a helpless girly-girl. She needed to walk the crime scene, not blubber into his shirt like a pathetic loser. "Let go of me. We owe it to Blue to find out who did this. Shit! If he hadn't been searching for my b-brother, he would still be a-alive."

  Skip cupped her face and looked into her eyes. She could see his pain, his loss. Knew he suffered as much as she did. He swallowed hard, seemed to be searching for the right words to say. "Honey, that's..."

  "Absolute bullshit." Blue rounded the corner of the smoldering barn with Rena in his arms. He hit his haunches and lay her on the grass. She was conscious, but coughing and gasping for air. "We need oxygen over here! STAT!"

  Two paramedics came running. Blue backed away as they lifted her onto a gurney, and placed an oxygen mask over her nose and mouth. While they examined her for burns and other injuries, he turned to Natasha and Skip, wrapping them both in a bear hug. Then he focused his full attention on her.

  "Listen, Nat, when I check out of this big, bad world, it won't be because of anything you did or didn't do."

  "But..."