by Carsen Taite
“Put away that gun! I’m not going!”
The yells were coming from the back of the store, where Alice and Jed had gone. Where she’d stopped watching while she flirted or whatever with Lindsey. Damn. Dale craned her neck, but she didn’t see any sign of Alice or Jed. She grabbed Lindsey around the waist and propelled her toward the front of the store. She needed to get her out of here and then assess the situation.
As they moved, Lindsey struggled against her, and she whispered in her ear. “You need to go. Trust me.” She felt Lindsey relax against her, but at that moment, the cashier opened his mouth, bits of donut spewing into the air with each word.
“Somebody better pay for those candy bars!”
Dale ignored him and pushed Lindsey out the door. Satisfied Lindsey was safe for now, she drew her gun and stepped carefully back through the store. She stopped every few steps and glanced at the mirrors along the side wall, trying to spot the source of the commotion. She was two-thirds of the way down the aisle when she spied the characters at the center of the drama. A tall, broad-shouldered woman with hair that looked like she cut it herself had a large revolver pointed at a scrawny woman who had to be at least eighty years old. The older woman was screaming her head off, which wasn’t helping the situation at all. Dale ducked into the next aisle to get a better position, and then she stood up straight, her gun pointed directly at the younger woman’s chest. “Federal officer. Drop your weapon.”
The woman met her eyes and her expression was full of fierce indignation. “The hell I will.”
Lindsey held her breath as she watched the exchange a few feet from where Dale was standing. She’d gone outside as Dale directed and found Alice and Jed waiting on them at the truck. She’d been so busy flirting with Dale, she hadn’t noticed them leave. Satisfied they were okay, she’d snuck back into the store. She told herself she was back inside because whatever was happening was newsworthy, but the real reason was fear for Dale’s safety, although now that Dale was in a standoff with a crazy person, she wasn’t sure what in the hell she could do about it.
“I’m giving you one last chance,” Dale said. “Put your gun down.”
“Or what? Are you going to arrest her?” The woman shook her free arm in the air and Lindsey spotted trails of blood trickling down her forearm. “She stabbed me with a can opener I’m pretty sure she doesn’t plan to pay for. I suggest you let me take care of it.”
Lindsey was at enough of an angle to see the perplexed expression on Dale’s face. Dale maintained her position, but her tone shifted from full-on authoritative to reasonably curious. “Are you on the job?”
The woman shook her head. “Not a chance, but this one’s got a warrant. Don’t be fooled by the screaming granny act. She hightailed it on a half dozen robbery charges. I don’t mind a few scratches for a bounty this size, but no way am I handing her over to you without getting my share.”
The older woman was hunched over and shivering, like she was expecting to be gunned down at any moment. Dale lowered her gun, and Lindsey watched as she walked over to the gun wielder. “You have paperwork?”
“Back pocket.”
Dale reached into her back pocket and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. She scanned the page. “You sure this is her?”
“Seriously? I’ve been tailing her for weeks. This is the first time I’ve got her somewhere we weren’t surrounded by a bunch of other geriatrics. Believe it or not, I’m not interested in scaring old people to death.” She looked at her arm. “Although I might be inclined to change my mind after this one.”
Dale refolded the paper and handed it back to the woman. “Agent Dale Nelson. What’s your name?”
“Luca Bennett.”
Dale cocked her head when the other woman said her name. “Bounty hunter?”
“Guilty as charged. Before you go judging, you should know I’ve done favors for some of your fed friends. You know, stuff they didn’t want to mess with.” She reached her free hand toward her pocket. “If you want to see my license, it’s in my wallet.”
Dale waved her off. “Nah, I believe you. Just wish you could’ve done this outside.”
“You and me both. Granny’s a little feistier than you’d think.”
“You want some help?”
“I got it. Besides, it looks like you have someone waiting for you.”
Luca pointed in Lindsey’s direction and Dale swung around too fast for her to get out of sight. Caught defying orders, Lindsey offered a weak smile and waved, but her attempt at levity didn’t dispel Dale’s frown. She followed Dale out of the store, more captivated by what had just happened than concerned about whether Dale was angry with her.
“So, what was that? You’re just going to let that vigilante hold a gun on that old woman? Is that how you do things in Texas? Old West justice style?”
Dale pulled up short, and when she turned around, her face was a steely mask. “I told you to wait outside.”
“Seriously, that’s all you have to say? Some scraggly character holds a woman at gunpoint in a convenience store and the best you can do is ask her if she needs help?” Lindsey didn’t know whether to be angry or annoyed at the casual manner in which Dale blew off her questions.
“What went on in there doesn’t concern you.”
“Oh, so now you’re in charge of what concerns me? I wasn’t aware that was part of your assignment.”
“Part of my assignment is to make sure you get your story without getting hurt. You could’ve been shot.”
“You had everything under control. I was fine.”
“You don’t know that. Things can change in an instant. Just because you think you’re safe, doesn’t mean you are. It’s stupid to put yourself in a dangerous situation.”
Dale’s words were delivered in a sharp staccato, and her eyes burned with anger. Lindsey stopped deflecting and got right back in her face. “If that woman was so dangerous, then why did you let her keep her gun? Sounds to me like you may have overreacted. Everyone is fine.”
“Everyone may be fine, but that’s just dumb luck. You could’ve been shot, all because you want something titillating for your ‘news’ story. We’re done with this little sideshow. I’m taking you and your crew back to the hotel. Get in the truck.”
Lindsey purposely hung back as Dale stalked off toward the truck. Dale might be furious, but she was angry too. Dale thought she was trying to find fodder for a story and that wasn’t it at all. As she walked toward the others, she muttered her thoughts under her breath.
Dale whipped around. “What did you say?”
“Nothing.”
“You have something to say to me, at least have the guts to say it to my face.”
Lindsey paused and considered, but only one thought she felt like sharing came to mind, and she blurted out the words that summed up exactly why she’d gone back into the shop. Not news, not curiosity—no, it was something else entirely, and the realization surprised her. “It could’ve been you.”
“What?”
“You. You could’ve been shot.”
Dale held her gaze, and in the span of seconds, a mix of emotions cycled through her expression. Remorse, resignation, regret. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but instead she just shook her head. “Let’s go.”
Lindsey climbed into the backseat of the truck and once again avoided Alice’s and Jed’s curious stares. She was a ball of emotions and didn’t feel like sharing any of them with anyone. What she needed to do was get a handle on herself. She was here to do a story, not flirt with an attractive woman, especially not one as infuriating as Dale Nelson. Her only job was to be professional and deliver this candy-ass puff piece that the network wanted. Then she could go back to Manhattan and resume the life she’d had before she’d chucked it all away to go overseas. Lord knows there were plenty of attractive, willing women in New York without the baggage of Agent Dale Nelson.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Lindsey pounded her fist on Elaina’s door, ducking th
e dirty looks from the room service waiter walking toward her. She was about to give up when the door swung open and Elaina whispered, “Why the hell are you trying to beat my door down?”
“If you’d answer your damn phone, maybe you’d know.”
The sound of a throat clearing interrupted their tiff, and Lindsey turned to see the room service waiter standing behind her. “Yes?”
“Service for Ms. Beall,” he said.
Lindsey did a mock bow and flourish. “By all means.” She followed him into the room and sank into one of the chairs. “So, Ms. Beall, what are we having? I had no idea today was stay at the hotel and be pampered day. If I had, I would’ve scheduled a massage. What’s for dinner?”
Elaina ignored her while she signed the room service check. When the waiter left the room, she pointed at the bottle of red wine. “Would you like a glass?”
“I’d rather have some answers. You have any of those?”
Elaina took an infuriatingly long amount of time to pour herself some wine. She took a sip and smacked her lips in approval. “What do you want to know?”
“Where were you all day? The rest of us were working. I get that this assignment is totally beneath your pay grade—mine too, but at least I’m showing up and doing my part.”
Instead of answering, Elaina poured another glass and handed it over. “Try this. It’s amazing.”
Lindsey shook her head, but she took the glass and swallowed a healthy portion. The wine was fantastic.
“Complex, right?”
“It is. It’s very good, but I’m hoping we can talk about more than wine.”
“Absolutely.” Elaina settled onto the couch. “In addition to discovering this excellent wine, I’ve spent the day working on your story.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes. I met with Hector Diego, the division chief for the Dallas office of the DEA. I explained to him that our piece about the Take-Back program was likely to generate more interest if we had a human interest hook, something more titillating than the collection of medicine cabinet discards and Just Say No programs for local school children. After a bit of convincing, he agreed with my assessment.”
Lindsey heard the undercurrent in Elaina’s voice and briefly wondered what method she’d used to convince Dale’s boss to beef up the story. “So, are you going to tell me what you cooked up or am I supposed to guess?”
“Did you happen to know that Agent Nelson is not only a decorated Marine, but her now-dead wife was an assistant United States attorney who prosecuted drug cases?”
“Matter of fact, I do. I guess you think that just because I think a story is silly, I don’t do my research. Really, Elaina, I would think you know me better than that. The better question is why wasn’t it in the research the network gave you?”
She shrugged. “I guess the writers didn’t get the significance of the angle since it was buried in the research materials. Besides, I’m not sure they planned to assign her to this project until we showed up. Anyway, I talked to Diego about it and he agreed. We parallel the story about Agent Nelson’s loss to her continued work to take down the organized drug trade. Show how this initiative is a piece of the overall picture. It’s the perfect human interest angle.”
Of course it was and it had been her idea in the first place. Lindsey flashed to the memory of Elaina sitting at her desk when she’d come out of the bathroom the other night. She’d bet all the money in all the world that Elaina had read her notes about Dale and this original idea was the fruit of her spy mission. She started to call Elaina out, but decided not to bother since she agreed with the outcome. Only one thing needed to be sorted out. “Is Agent Nelson on board with being interviewed?”
“She will be.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m sure her boss will have a talk with her and she’ll understand that the better the ratings the show has, the better chance this story will have to cast a good light on the agency overall.”
Lindsey balked at the explanation. She was torn, but she couldn’t help but point out the negatives from Dale’s perspective. “First of all, she’s a widow. Her wife died under horrible circumstances, and for all we know she’s still grieving. Her buy-in is critical if we’re going to put her life front and center. Second, what if what she has to say doesn’t cast a good light on the agency? Maybe she harbors ill will for her superiors because of the shooting. For all we know, she holds a grudge that they weren’t able to protect her.”
“And you should know, we kind of got into it today. I’m not entirely sure she’ll open up to me no matter what the circumstances.”
She waited for Elaina to respond, but she seemed way more interested in getting to the bottom of her glass than answering the questions she’d posed.
Finally, Elaina drained the last drop of wine and set her glass aside. “Well, look at you. Lindsey Ryan, ace reporter, returns from Afghanistan and goes all sweet and soft. What’s the deal? You can attack generals in charge of thousands of troops, but you can’t get one little DEA agent to open up to you without worrying about hurting her feelings? Please. You made a deal with Larry. If you want the network to fund your missions of truth in the future, you make this chump story a riveting, tearjerker piece that has everyone thinking the DEA is the savior of modern mankind. Got it?”
Lindsey stood. She had made a deal with Larry and her job depended on it. As much as she cherished the freedom to choose the topics of her reporting, she knew that network backing was the reason she was able to dig deep on many of the stories she chose to pursue. If the network, in the form of Elaina, had a specific agenda here, that was their problem. At least now one of her problems was solved. If Dale was to be the subject of this story, she was clearly off limits personally. She wouldn’t waste any more energy chasing the strong pull of attraction that appeared every time she was near. She had one task and one task only—explore the Dale Nelson angle, and she would go wherever it led. No matter what.
Suddenly, she knew exactly how she’d spend the rest of her evening.
*
Dale barely waited for Lindsey’s crew to clear the truck before she peeled out of the Anatole parking lot, tires screeching on the pavement. She’d dutifully carted them to the day’s worth of appointments at the mayor’s office and to watch one of the local cops interact with a group of school kids, and she’d watched with growing impatience as Lindsey handled the interview with kid gloves, completely at odds with the way she’d grilled her about the way she’d handled the bounty hunter back at the convenience store.
Like Lindsey knew jack shit about life in her world. Now that they were out of her hair for the afternoon, she couldn’t tell if she was more angry or frustrated, but she did know she was relieved to be out from under Lindsey’s glaring inspection. For half a second, she considered showing up at the office and telling Diego he needed to find someone else to play babysitter.
And then what? If Diego granted her request, which wasn’t likely, he’d load her up with new cases. Truth was, working with the film crew gave her more flexibility to work on the Vargas case. While Lindsey was busy glad-handing the mayor, she’d been able to do some checking on Tanner Cohen. The general consensus held she was a stand-up agent, by the book, but willing to think outside the box. She hoped Bianca’s instincts about including Tanner in their off-the-record enterprise were well founded.
She drove the short distance to her apartment and parked on the street. She had a reserved space in the garage, but hated the fact she had to twist and turn her oversized truck down four levels to get to it and back out. She bypassed the elevator and took the stairs. She hadn’t been able to go to the gym since the gunshot wound, and she was hyper aware of how out of shape she felt. The long, slow climb up the seven flights provided a nice, slow burn, but when she finally reached her door, she was starving. The fridge was a lonely place, home to random takeout condiments, a half a carton of eggs, and some milk long past its expiration date. She couldn
’t remember the last time she’d been to the grocery store—she’d picked up the eggs at the convenience store down the street one day when she was craving something that reminded her of the breakfasts she and Maria used to share. Her version of huevos rancheros hadn’t come close to the original, and tonight she didn’t even bother, instead scrambling three eggs and eating them right out of the skillet.
The forecast called for a drop in temperature, so she combed her closet for a jacket and tugged it on before heading back out to her truck. The drive to Peyton’s ranch was about forty-five minutes on a normal day, but traffic was heavier than usual. She spent the time examining Bianca’s plan for flaws. There were plenty of possible obstacles, but no strategy was perfect. They had to take some major risks if they wanted to catch Sergio and, in her view, the risk was worth the potential reward. When she finally reached the turnoff to the ranch, she was fully prepared to convince Peyton they had a solid plan.
As her truck rumbled down the drive, she saw Bianca turn in behind her. When they reached the house, she waited for Bianca and Tanner to get out of the car before stepping down to greet them. She shook Tanner’s outstretched hand, pleased at the strong grip. “Dale Nelson, DEA.”
“Tanner Cohen. No need for the introduction. Pretty sure everyone knows who you are.”
Dale eyed Tanner closely, searching for a hidden meaning to her words, but finally decided Tanner was just sucking up to a more experienced agent. Good. Deference could come in handy. “Cruz already talk to you about what we have planned?”
Tanner nodded. “She did. I think it’s doable. If Ms. Valencia is on board with it, then I am too.”
Dale clasped her shoulder. “Actually, the first hurdle is AUSA Davis, but you let me worry about that part. The most important thing you can do tonight is listen. Let Cruz and I pave the way. Got it?”
Tanner nodded and they made their way from the vehicles to the porch just as Peyton walked out the front door.
“What the hell is she doing here?”
Dale stopped, surprised by the sharp edge to Peyton’s question. She shot a glance at Bianca who looked like she wished she could melt into the ground. “Hey, Peyton, we brought some extra help.”