Foster Justice

by Colleen Shannon

  “Her phone’s going to voice mail, too. They haven’t called in because we haven’t been in communication with them since they left California.” Sinclair’s smile faded. “Trust me, Chad will be set straight, and soon. I don’t care what his state of mind is since he lost Trey. There’s no excuse for this behavior in a Texas Ranger. Even if I do reassign him, he may be on probation for a while.”

  At that moment, Chad was passing through the desert that stretched between New Mexico and Texas. He’d driven straight through and he was dead tired. He hadn’t trusted Jasmine behind the wheel while he slept. His state of mind was, at best, chaotic.

  Jasmine had barely said a word since they’d left Palm Springs. He’d tried to tell her about his land, why he loved it so. She’d listened, nodding, but didn’t offer any encouragement when he tried to draw her in. Around Phoenix he switched tactics, talking about the new Texas that was moving away from a ranching, oil, and gas economy to high-tech endeavors. “I don’t know if you track what’s going on in Texas in the news, but people and businesses are moving to Texas on a daily basis, many of them, frankly, coming from California. Dallas is a telecom hub, Austin is gaining fame as Silicon Hills, and even in West Texas, Midland is close to nabbing a private space exploration company.”

  He’d glanced at her, hoping to see some residual pride in her home state. He was desperate to keep her there, even after all this was over.

  She yawned. “What are you, head of the Texas tourism bureau? Maybe I’d be a bit more enthusiastic if I’d come with you willingly. Why don’t you let me get my cell phone and maybe we can talk.”

  He smiled wryly. “I’d rather make it across the state line at least, before you bring in the cavalry.”

  “Still don’t trust me, huh? If I wanted you arrested, all I had to do back in Palm Springs was keep quiet instead of defending you.”

  Chad frowned. True enough. Dammit, would he ever understand this infuriating woman? If she’d decided to cooperate, why the cold shoulder now? He cocked his head as he eyed her from his side of the cab.

  A satisfied little smile curved her lips. “You remind me of Chester when you look at me with your head cocked like that. I think he understands me better than you do.”

  He took a deep breath to quell the retort he longed to make. He’d swerved a bit out of his lane during their exchange, and by the time he’d rectified that, she’d leaned her head on the window, moved as far away from him as she could get, and nodded off.

  Finally, right after they crossed the Texas border, her silence took its toll on him. He was about to fall asleep despite his usual tricks to stay alert. After a full two days without sleep, he knew he needed at least a nap if he was to be clearheaded enough to appeal his case to Sinclair and explain why he’d brought back an unwilling but key witness—without getting himself arrested. Sinclair wasn’t by-the-book like Riley, but he was very strict with his men when it came to actually breaking the law.

  He pulled off the road into a cutout for a bank of mail boxes, looking around carefully. There was nowhere for her to run, but just in case, he locked the cabin doors and put her door lock on driver control.

  “I have to sleep,” he said curtly when she gave him an inquiring look. He lifted the moveable console between them and sprawled his long legs over the floorboard into her part of the truck. He ignored her protest, arranged himself as comfortably as he could against the driver-side door, tipped his hat over his face, and was asleep within seconds.

  Jasmine had been mostly pretending to sleep to avoid talking to him, but his deep, even breathing and occasional little snore told her it was safe to study him. Gently, she removed his hat, which was about to fall in his lap anyway.

  In sleep, all that arrogant Texan was dormant. He was still not handsome, but so endearingly male and much younger looking. With all the angular planes of his face relaxed, he was somehow harmless. Safe. And since she’d never actually slept with him, despite her residual anger at his snatch and grab, the urge to curl against him was overpowering. It might be her one and only chance to experience that unique bonding experience.

  Carefully, so as not to awaken him, she draped herself over his chest, letting her legs dangle down next to his so she didn’t have her full weight on him. Turning her cheek against the strong beat of his heart, she took a deep breath of his scent. That too was purely male, a mix of sweat, leather, and spicy deodorant, which he’d used over the last few days to keep himself reasonably decent since he’d had no way to shower.

  With the scent of Chad lulling her, and the steady, reliable thrum of his heart, she slept.

  A couple of hours later, Chad started awake. For an instant he panicked because he felt constrained by a warm weight against him. Then he realized it was Jasmine, curled against him like the sex kitten he’d always likened her to. His legs were asleep, but for a long moment he stayed still, drinking her in.

  Her glorious red mane was tousled and her makeup had long since rubbed away. A smudge of mascara darkened one eyelid, but to him, she was beautiful. She’d always be beautiful, even when gray fingered her hair and wrinkles fanned out from those mysterious green eyes....

  Her eyes fluttered open before he had time to shield his thoughts. She blinked up at him, the lucent green going dark as her pupils expanded.

  He tried a tentative smile, and for an instant, she smiled back. No artifice, no sex kitten, just the happy smile of a woman glad to be in his arms. He pulled her closer, bending his head, but her shirt had loosened and he could glimpse the tattoo. It had begun to fade, but he couldn’t hide the visceral kick to his gut as he stared at the symbol of everything that kept them apart.

  She looked where he looked. Then the moment was gone. She reached over him. There was a click and then she’d scrambled back to her side of the truck, her face averted.

  He opened his mouth to apologize, but she was already out the door and rounding the truck. He knew she was going for her cell phone and this time he didn’t try to stop her. He got out of the truck and trailed her to the rear of the trailer, where she’d shouldered her satchel and was untethering Chester. She led the stallion out of the trailer and began walking him up and down. After he’d loosened his limbs a bit, she gave him an oat protein bar she pulled from her capacious bag.

  Chad’s stomach rumbled. “You got another one of those?”

  She ignored him, giving Chester a second bar and cooing to him.

  Chad felt like an idiot being jealous of a horse, but he complained, “You treat him better than you do me.”

  “He’s nicer than you. And he smells better, too.”

  While she was occupied with Chester, Chad surreptitiously smelled each of his armpits. Rank. Embarrassed, he stepped up into the trailer to check on the ice in the coffin where Trey lay. They’d put it in insulated bags so it was still pretty solid, but he knew he had to cover the rest of the distance without stopping. For an instant, he looked down at his brother’s peaceful face. Tears burned his eyes, and the need for retribution ate at him like acid. He was glad he’d kidnapped Jasmine. Even if she proved to be uninvolved in Kinnard’s scheme, she couldn’t deny the fact that she was the reason Trey had left Texas.

  But the volatile emotions only distracted him and he was about to need all his focus. So he gently shut the coffin lid, spread Chester’s horse blankets on top to further protect the ice, and turned back outside.

  After allowing Chester about fifteen minutes to crop at the grass, Chad took the lead from Jasmine and led his horse back toward the trailer. Chester planted his feet, snorting.

  Chad whacked his rear end. “Up, boy. You know the drill.” Chester stamped a rear foot, narrowly missing Chad’s boot. He stayed put.

  Jasmine took the lead from Chad, patted Chester’s neck and whispered into his ear. His ear flickered. He gave a soft whicker and obediently walked right into the trailer. Ignoring Chad, she tied him down, patting him a last time.

  Furious, Chad stomped back to the driver’s seat
and fired up the engine. Damn the woman. Whether directly or indirectly, she’d invaded every aspect of his life: his career, his land, his family, and now she wanted his horse, too?

  Jasmine was barely settled, with her belt buckled, before he gunned back onto the highway so fast gravel spit from the rear tires.

  “Careful, you’ll make him stumble!” Jasmine chided him.

  “Woman, if you’d worry a little less about my horse and more about what you’re going to say to my boss, we’d both be better off.”

  “You can’t wait to get rid of me, can you?” She turned her head to look out at the barren desert, but not before he saw the beginning of a tear in her eye.

  Feeling guilty, he shut up, but hell, she riled him. Physically, emotionally, even spiritually when he awoke to find her nestled against him. One minute she spat at him like a wildcat, and the next she was curled against him with utter contentment. He tipped his hat back to rub his aching forehead.

  Ignoring him again, she pulled her cell phone out of her bag and hit the voice mail button. She listened, her face going even grimmer, if possible.

  He glanced at her. “Bad news?”

  She clicked off after several messages. “Riley was checking on me. And I had a message from your boss. Ross Sinclair.”

  Chad stiffened. “What did he say?”

  “He said if I’m with you to please have you call in ASAP.”

  “Can I borrow your phone? Mine’s dead, has been since I left your place and I haven’t been anywhere to charge it.”

  She offered it without another word. As he listened to Sinclair’s office phone ring, Chad tried to marshal the right words. He was half relieved when he got Sinclair’s voice mail. “Captain, I’m only a few hours out. I have to stop at the homestead to deliver Trey’s body and get Chester into his pasture, but then I’ll come straight to the office. I have with me the, ah, witness I told you about. I think with a little persuasion she’ll agree to testify against Kinnard if we can catch him. See you soon. I’ll fill in all the details then.” He handed the phone back to Jasmine, surprised when she turned it off.

  “The battery’s almost dead,” she said. “I’ll call Riley later.”

  Chad let it lie, though he wondered if there was more on that phone message than she was telling him.

  In Amarillo, Sinclair listened to his voice mail less than thirty minutes later. As soon as he heard Chad’s message, he tried his cell. Straight to voice mail again. Then he tried Jasmine’s number. Likewise.

  Irritably, Sinclair dropped his cell phone in his pocket and checked his watch. Mary’s meeting with Kinnard was in a few hours. Sinclair badly wanted to see Chad’s face the first time he laid eyes on her, but if he didn’t hurry, she’d already be off on her mission. Sinclair still felt uneasy about using her like this, despite her insistence, and so he made an unusual but typically decisive decision. Going to the weapons storage compartment, he unlocked it with his personal key and pulled out a bulletproof vest and pistol, along with a shotgun, just in case.

  As they approached the red canyons of home, silence ruled in the truck as it had for a long time. Chad glanced for the umpteenth time at Jasmine. She still sat as far away from him as she could, buffing her nails, which should have been worn down to nubs by now.

  He knew if he was to make peace with her before all the crap hit the fan, it had to be now. Tomorrow would either dawn a new day for them or be the end of any hope of a relationship. He hesitated, the words burning in the back of his throat, especially with Trey’s dead body in the back, but the softer side of him, instilled by his loving mother, pleaded with him. She’d never wanted either of them to be alone, and she would not have been judgmental about Jasmine, as their father would have. Most compelling, Trey had certainly given his blessing, almost literally with his last breath. I love the scent of jasmine. His words whispered in Chad’s memory. I love the scent of Jasmine, too, little brother, Chad whispered back to him in his head.

  As the colorful red and purple strata near Palo Duro Canyon came into view, Chad’s joy at being back where he belonged made the crow he had to eat a bit tastier. He took a deep breath. The words came out much easier than he would have expected. “Ignore me all you want, but it’s reckoning time. For both of us.”

  She stiffened slightly but still didn’t look at him. The buffing went faster.

  “Tomorrow you’ll either be in custody or staying in Amarillo’s nicest hotel, courtesy of the Feds and the Texas Rangers. I’m sorry I had to bring you back this way, but with a little time, I think you’ll see you belong here, just like I do.”

  The buffing stopped, but she still didn’t look at him.

  Chad burst out, “If you hate my guts, why did you help me so many times?”

  She spoke, her tone icy. “You’re right about one thing. It’s reckoning time between us. We have a word for it in Texas. Comeuppance. You’re about to get yours, cowboy.”

  “Jasmine, I . . . that is . . . goddammit, you keep me addlepated or horny as hell. I can barely think when I’m around you. But this much I know . . .” He trailed off, turning into the narrow caliche road that led to the homestead. He stayed quiet, forcing her to look at him with guarded green eyes. He slowed to a stop, knowing he probably had one chance to get this right. He flung his hat onto the seat, wanting no shade over his face. For once, they’d see each other clearly, no shadows, no guessing.

  “You make me sad when I make you cry. You make me happy when I hear you laugh. You make me see possibilities instead of problems when you wake up in my arms.” His voice lowered. “You make me see bright colors instead of shades of gray. Just like Trey wanted for me.” His tone lowered almost to a whisper. “He gave us his blessing and that means a lot to me.”

  The nail file went back into her bottomless satchel. Her head bowed, and he couldn’t read her face, though her mouth trembled slightly. “So you believe me finally? That I’ve never been involved with Thomas, Trey wasn’t my boyfriend, that I’ve tried to help find him from the beginning, and that I may be a stripper but I don’t live a stripper lifestyle?”

  What did he say to that? He couldn’t lie to her, but suddenly, the memory of that young woman’s voice came to him on the recording he’d taken from Kinnard’s phone. He reached into the backseat for his duffel bag, pulled out the recorder, and put the counter on the correct spot. He hit Play.

  She listened to the message, her face going white. When he hit Stop, she nodded. “That’s Mary. Trey’s girlfriend. I didn’t play him, or lure him to California. She did. But she also fell in love with him.” She reached into her bag and pulled out her cell phone. It beeped, indicating the battery was very low, as she held it to his ear.

  Sinclair’s angry voice blasted him. “You stupid son of a bitch. Trey’s real girlfriend, Mary, is turning state’s witness against Kinnard and she’s meeting him tomorrow at four p.m. on your land, wearing a wire. I want you back on duty by then. You caused all this mess, so you’re going to help mop it up. You’ve been a-keepin’ on a-comin’ after the wrong redhead. This Jasmine girl is innocent. According to Mary, she didn’t even know what was going on. Call me as soon as you hear this.” And he hung up sharply.

  The cell phone fell out of Chad’s hand to the seat. Jasmine took it and put it back in her bag. Chad knew he should fire up the truck, deliver Chester and Trey to the homestead, only a couple miles away now, and get to the office lickety-split. It was three, so there wasn’t much time.

  Instead, he slumped against his seat, feeling two inches high. It took all he had to turn and look at Jasmine. He whispered, “I’m sorry.”

  Jasmine moved her wrinkled blouse aside to bare her tattoo. “And this?”

  Chad hesitated, and that was apparently enough to spoil the tentative truce. The memory of that big box of condoms came back to torment him.

  Jasmine turned her face away. “Just do what you have to do and get me into a hotel. I’ll always be damaged goods to you, and I can’t and won’t fight th
at anymore.”

  Chad opened his mouth, but then, in the distance on the bluff, he saw a familiar unmarked SUV. Sinclair’s vehicle, high above his place. Chad knew instantly Sinclair had brought this Mary to the meeting himself.

  Which meant one thing—he was concerned for her safety.

  “We’ll settle this later, but you have to give me a chance to make things right.”

  “I don’t have to do anything.” Jasmine buttoned her blouse to her neck.

  Chad fired up the truck and covered the last two miles to his place far faster than he should have. On the way, he turned on his police radio to his old frequency, now that he was within range. He doubted if Sinclair would broadcast very freely given how slippery Kinnard was, but it was worth a shot.

  Mostly static and then clear, “Foster, you there?”

  “Here, Captain.” Chad turned up the volume, careening to a stop in the front driveway near the pasture. “Just got home.”

  “Call me on that gal’s phone.”

  Jasmine handed over her phone without a word. She got out of the truck and walked around, appraising the run-down old white clapboard house.

  While he talked to Sinclair on her phone, Jasmine led Chester out of the trailer. The stallion was tired of his confinement and ready to run. He pulled at his lead. She led him to the water trough.

  Chad hung up the phone and handed it back to Jasmine. “It went dead while I was talking. You can charge it inside while you wait for me.” He ran to the sagging screen door, opened it, and unlocked the heavy handmade oak front door. He peeked inside, turning on lights, and then turned back to Jasmine.

  “It’s not much, needs some repair, but it’s home.”

  Jasmine looked inside the open door, back to Chad. He saw her ambivalence and knew it would probably take a while for her to forgive him. He couldn’t really blame her.

  He tried to take her hands, but she pulled away. He said, his drawl exaggerated by his stifled emotions, “Just give me until tomorrow. I promise I’ll make things right. If I don’t—you can handcuff me to the trailer and I’ll confess to kidnapping you. I’ll go quietly if they arrest me.”