Gray Wolf Security: Wyoming

by Glenna Sinclair

  He kissed me, his touch as gentle as it had always been.

  "Don't say goodbye," he whispered against my lips. "I've said enough goodbyes in my life. I don't want anymore."

  I nodded, but I could hardly make any promises.

  He tugged me out of the car and we walked hand in hand to the front door. Hank was there, his wise eyes taking in everything about us in one glance, concern etched in the lines on his forehead.

  "You made it," was all he said, but I could feel the weight of emotion that came with that simple statement.

  I moved into his arms, loving the familiar scent of him, the familiar feel of him. Hank was my longest friend next to Sutherland, the only one who'd been on the ranch for a significant time besides me. And Shelby. The only neighbor I'd had since coming there, the only late night companion—a friend who'd sit with me on the stairs and talk about the day. He was the closest thing I'd had to a brother, to a true companion, in all these years.

  He held me tight for a long moment, then sidestepped, gesturing for me to go inside the house. It was a nice place, neat. It was bigger than his room back at the barn, which raised questions as to why he and Jonnie didn't just move in here. But I knew about the men who'd attacked her here, knew about the desire to escape the memory of such an event.

  I could hear Lance and Hank talking quietly by the door, could guess what they were talking about. I'd expected Cassidy to be here, but understood why she wasn't. It was a school day and it was important to keep things normal for kiddoes as long as possible.

  I stood at the windows and looked out on Jonnie's small backyard, the garden that was buried under insulating mulch at the moment. I'd imagined having a home like this once. Kennedy and I shared a nice condo, one of those places that was worth about what a house in the suburbs would probably go for without the square footage. I would buy those real estate magazines, imagine the house we would one day have, the children who would fill its rooms. I'd wanted a garden, too, a place to bury my fingers in the dirt, to find the satisfaction of having grown something from nothing. I'd wanted to buy a pony, too, to keep it in a paid stable and teach my children to ride it, something we could do together the way I'd once done with my own mother. But it was never meant to be.

  "You're safe," a voice filled with affection said close to my ear, a hand coming to rest on my shoulder.

  I turned, tears surprising me with their suddenness, their insistence. Sutherland, her achingly familiar face, tears running down her cheek, held out her arms to me. I hadn't known how she would respond to my lies, to my secrets. But this wasn't what I'd expected, but what I'd hoped for.

  We hugged for what felt like hours. Our tears mingled and our sobs were lost in each other. I was aware of Hank and Lance coming into the room, aware of movement around us, but it didn't matter. I just wanted to stand there, wanted to luxuriate in the last remnants of a friendship I would forever treasure.

  "I'm sorry," I mumbled, wiping at my tears with the back of my hand when we finally separated.

  "For what?"

  Surprise drew my gaze back up to her face. "Surely you know most of it by now? About Kennedy?"

  "I know some rogue FBI agent is looking for you. I know we spent all day Sunday searching the north pasture for the two of you. But I don't know much more than that."

  There was so much I needed to tell her, I didn't know where to start. I rubbed at my eyes until I was seeing stars, the tears I didn't have a right to shed gone now. I crossed my arms over my chest, glanced at Hank and Lance, both watching with open curiosity that they were trying halfheartedly to hide.

  "I guess I owe all of you the truth."

  "The more we know, the easier it will be to help you," Sutherland said.

  I shook my head. "No one can help me."

  "You don't know that," she said, touching my arm lightly. "You won't know until you give us a chance."

  Hank disappeared for a minute, brought everyone a mug of coffee. Sutherland and I sat side by side on the couch, Hank and Lance taking up positions on the loveseat. Lance was sitting on the edge of the cushions, his hands wrapped around the hot mug, his gaze riveted by the hot liquid. I was still getting to know him, but I felt confident in thinking I knew him well enough to know he was nervous about what he was about to hear. I almost wished I didn't have to tell my story in front of him.

  "I grew up in Connecticut. We lived on a large piece of property, big enough that we had a couple of horses. My mom loved horses. She taught me to ride when I was only four." I smiled as I remembered some of the times we spent out there with those horses. "I grew up privileged, never hurting for anything. I went to private school. My brother went to Yale. We were what I'd always assumed was a very happy family. Then, not long after Christmas the year I turned fifteen, a couple of Connecticut State Police came to our house and arrested my dad. He was an executive at a Wall Street bank. They said he'd stolen money from his clients and he'd made illegal trades on behalf of clients and for himself. He'd taken millions. The courts put a freeze on our accounts, forced us out of our house. It was a nightmare that lasted years. The family went from this privileged, going to see Broadway plays every weekend, to barely being able to put food on the table. My mother was so devastated that she fell into a dark depression, wouldn't get out of bed. My older brother was a lawyer by then, working for a prestigious law firm in New York. He distanced himself from the whole thing, pretended he didn't know us. And my sister... she was engaged to the son of one of my father's partners. He called it off and she took it hard, started drinking. It was a really bad time for everyone."

  I sipped at my coffee, remembering the mornings I had to pick my sister up off the floor of our one bedroom apartment before Mom saw her—not that Mom got up out of bed much around that time. Kennedy found her before I could once, found her asleep in the building lobby, passed out on the stairs. He carried her up and put her to bed for me. It was one of the first times we had what I'd believed at the time were heart felt conversations, one of the first times he showed me how concerned he was for me.

  "One of the cops who arrested my dad would come around from time to time, check up on us. The lawyer thought he was trying to catch us spending money from one of the accounts the government thought my dad had managed to hide. I thought he was coming around because he liked my sister. Turned out I was only partially right. He was actually coming around to see me."

  Sutherland lay her hand on my knee, but she didn't interrupt. I glanced at Lance, but he was still staring into the depths of his mug.

  "Long story short, we started sneaking out together. He said all the right things, did all the right things. Convinced me that he was some sort of knight in shining armor come to rescue me from the nightmare my family life had become. I ran away with him when I was sixteen because my mom figured out what we were doing and she confronted me, threatened to have him arrested for statutory rape. But it wasn't my virtue she was worried about. She was afraid he would learn something about my dad and use it against us. But Grant had just been accepted to Quantico and he wanted me to go with him, so I did.

  "We rented this little apartment in Richmond and he would come stay with me whenever he could, but they kept him pretty busy with his training. When he graduated, he was transferred to Chicago. We got married on my eighteenth birthday. Not long after that, he was assigned to the Mahoney task force."

  This was where it got difficult. I sipped at my coffee some more. Sutherland rubbed my back, careful not to say anything or do anything that might interrupt my recital. Hank was watching like it was the most intense football game he'd ever seen. Lance was still staring into his mug, but I could see the new tension that had come into his shoulders.

  He was afraid of what I might say next. Or was that something else? Did he hear something in my voice that wasn't there? Was he afraid I still cared for Kennedy?

  God, if he only knew...

  "I thought everything was perfect. I thought we had a good life. He couldn't reall
y talk about his work, so we spent most of our time together talking about the future. We were going to travel. We were going to have half a dozen children. We were going to live the life I should have had if my father hadn't been arrested."

  It would have been perfect, too. I did love him. Then. But then I discovered my husband wasn't who I thought he was.

  "I overheard him on the phone one night. I'd had this bug... he thought I was asleep, but I wasn't. They were talking about a drug bust, about this warehouse downtown. They were talking about the things they needed to remove from the warehouse before the FBI showed up."

  It took overhearing multiple phone calls like that one for me to realize my husband was a snitch. He was giving the bad guys information the FBI had against them. He was helping them avoid persecution.

  "I began snooping and I found things, proof of his double life. I confronted him one night and he didn't bother to deny. In fact, I think he was relieved."

  "It's finally all out in the open," he'd said. "No more lies, no more secrets."

  "But you're FBI."

  "Jack Mahoney is my uncle. He wanted me to become a cop, wanted me to apply to the FBI. He was happier than everyone else when I got in. He's the reason I applied, the reason I put in for a transfer to Chicago. Family is the most important thing in the world!"

  "I couldn't believe how open he was about it. Turned out, my father was laundering money for the Mahoneys and he'd skimmed some off the top, so they set him up, made it look much worse than it was. They were the reason he went to prison. And Kennedy told me that I was his reward. That when he came to the house the first time and saw me, he'd asked permission to date me, they'd not only given him permission, but encouraged it. It was another part of my father's punishment."

  I shook my head, feeling sick to my stomach just at the thought.

  Hank was nodding. "Ash provided background for us when we thought we were going to be part of that bust. The Mahoneys are some dark people. But they're smart as hell, too. They have their fingers in a hell of a lot of pies."

  I agreed. I knew that probably better than anyone.

  "Kennedy told me things after that, horrible things. The things they could do...they were responsible for the murders of politicians, businessmen. They'd put more than just my dad in jail. They have support everywhere. Kennedy isn't the only guy they have in the FBI. And I wouldn't be surprised to hear they have other people, powerful people, in their pockets. And cops everywhere! I couldn't go to anyone, even if I had evidence against Kennedy. I had no idea if I'd be talking to an honest cop, or one of Mahoneys'."

  "So, you left."

  I glanced at Sutherland, but my eyes landed on Lance. He still wasn't looking at me.

  "I got pregnant. I couldn't raise my baby in that environment."

  I told them what I'd already told Lance, about the accident and the bus rides and the moving from place to place. It seemed kind of ridiculous when I said it all aloud like that. But the Mahoneys—Kennedy—they weren't people to take lightly.

  Everyone was silent for a long time when I was done. Sutherland and Hank exchanged this look that made me feel as though I was no longer a part of that insiders’ club that the three of us once formed. And then Hank asked me an interesting question.

  "The Mahoneys have moved part of their operation to Cheyenne. The drug bust we were supposed to assist the FBI and the local authorities with this past weekend was part of the Mahoney empire, but someone tipped them off. They moved before we could get there." He looked at me for a long moment. "Have you ever heard of two agents called Abbott and Miles?"

  I shook my head.

  Sutherland took my hand in hers. "They're here looking for Kennedy. They know he's been feeding the Mahoneys information."

  "They do?"

  "They've been watching him for over a year. It's because of them that we learned he was in the area. He'd been watching you for a week, ever since we came back from the horse show."

  I stiffened as the reality of that hit me. "He was watching us?"

  "They have GPS data that shows he was sitting in his car outside MidKnight's gates."

  Fear shot through me. I stood up, my thoughts moving straight to Cassidy.

  "He could know about her, he could be after her. She's at school--"

  "No, babe, she's at Sutherland's house," Lance said, taking my arms, forcing me to face him. "She's safe."

  "But if he was watching us, he would have seen—"

  "Cassidy hasn't been out of mine or Mabel's sight since Friday," Sutherland said. "She's on a ranch with a dozen cops, half a dozen private security operatives, and dozens of ranch hands who would do anything for you and that little girl." She moved up behind me, her hands resting on my back. "She's fine."

  Lance took my face between his hands. "Did you hear what else she said? The FBI are here to arrest him. When they do, he'll be out of your life. You won't have to fear him anymore."

  He looked happy. I wasn't sure he truly understood.

  "With the information you just gave us, and what they already have, he'll definitely go down," Hank added.

  I shook my head emphatically. "I can't testify against him! They'll come after me. They'll kill me!"

  "Becks--"

  "It'll never be over, Lance. Not as long as he's alive."

  He pulled me closer to him, held me cradled against his chest. I could feel Sutherland and Hank watching. I wanted to tell them this was a mistake. I wanted to say that we needed to go, we all needed to go. If Kennedy knew how much they now knew about him... they were all in danger now.

  What the hell had I done?

  "It's going to be okay," Lance insisted again.

  I didn't have the heart—of the energy—to argue with him.

  Chapter 22

  Lance

  I sat in another motel room chair watching Becky sleep in the bed. She had her back to me, her breathing slow and steady. Sutherland had convinced her to stay in Midnight, to give the FBI the chance to draw her husband out, to allow them the chance to arrest him. She agreed, reluctantly, but only after Sutherland swore she'd stay with Cassidy while all this was happened. And Sutherland made her promise to remain here at Eve and Grainger's motel and to allow Hank, Grainger, and Ryan to take turns watching over us.

  It'd been a long day filled with too many revelations. I couldn't stop thinking about the things she'd said about Kennedy. I wanted to believe he was a wife beater, wanted to believe he was the scum of the earth. And he was scum, just not the tangible type that I could so easily despise. And he wasn't the kind that she could hate as easily as an abuser.

  Was she still in love with him? Would she still be with him if things were different?

  Her face had glowed when she talked about the early days of her relationship, when she talked about the dreams she'd had for her marriage. I wondered if it would ever glow like that with thoughts of a future with me.

  It was stupid to be jealous of a man who'd caused her to go on the run for such a long time. But I couldn't help myself.

  I wanted her to be mine, completely. But it felt like a part of her still belonged to him.

  I leaned over and kissed her forehead. Then I grabbed my keys and headed out.

  Grainger was sitting on a bench by the front office door, sipping from a cold beer bottle. I walked over and dropped onto the bench beside him, sighing heavily as he handed me another bottle of the beer.

  "Thanks."

  "How is she?"

  "Scared to death. She's convinced that even if this guy is caught and arrested, someone else will come after her and Cassidy."

  "She might not be completely wrong." Grainger glanced at me. "This is a pretty bad ass group we're talking about and if this guy is related to one of the bosses..."

  I nodded. "I know. But I've got to believe this is going to end when they find him."

  "At least she's not running from the law."

  "No. The warrant he showed me was bogus. Sutherland said the agents told her
he'd tried to create a warrant, but it was blocked by their system."

  "It could all be so much worse, I suppose. He could have been an abuser. Or he could have had something dark on her, some secret you wouldn't want to know."

  "It's bad enough knowing she was with this guy from the time she was fifteen. Bad enough knowing she planned a life with him, married him with the intention of spending the rest of her life with him. It's bad enough knowing she got pregnant by him after she learned of his connection to the Mahoneys."

  "You can't blame her for that. Women fall in and out of love all the time, especially young women."

  "How would you feel if you knew your wife was married once to a man she still has feelings for?"

  "My wife nearly had an affair with a married man whom she still sees on a regular basis." Grainger shrugged. "I love my wife. I trust her. And I know she loves and trusts me. There's nothing more to it."

  I nodded. Maybe that was it. Maybe I was just nervous that Becky didn't have the same feelings for me I had for her. Maybe I was worried that when all this was over, we wouldn't have the future I was desperately hoping for.

  Ryan wandered by a short time later, tugging at her blouse as she did like she'd just spent a little time with her blouse in some sort of disarray. A beat cop from the local sheriff's office came from around the same corner, a similar look of disarray causing him to push his shirt back into his pants. I nudged Grainger and smiled, suddenly more curious than ever about this petite operative who came to work for Gray Wolf not long after I did.

  "It's all quiet out back," she announced with a wink as she walked past us.

  I just shook my head, laughing for the first time since all this began.

  The laughter died on my tongue moments later when a gunshot sounded from the direction of the room where I'd left Becky sleeping.

  Chapter 23

  Becky