Gray Wolf Security: Wyoming

by Glenna Sinclair

“When did you realize you were working with Jack Mahoney?”

  Carrington shook his head, glancing at Joss. “Not until a year ago. Not until he came to me with a dossier that contained photographs of the two of us meeting in public. Not until he opened one of the containers and showed me the gun he was hiding in them.”

  “You honestly didn’t know all that time?”

  “No. I don’t make a habit of searching my client’s cargo. And the company was legit. There was no reason to wonder what they were doing with my cargo containers.”

  “Is that how he got you to come up here and run things for him?”

  Carrington’s eyes moved to Joss again. I knew what the answer was before he shook his head in the negative. Jack had something big on him, something he hadn’t wanted his wife to know. For him to do the things he’d done, it had to be something big. An affair, maybe. Or worse.

  “What did he have on you?” Kirkland asked in a soft, caring voice, his eyes also on Joss.

  There was clearly a lot of affection there.

  Carrington shook his head again. Joss touched his cheek, drawing his head down against her narrow shoulder.

  “It’s between the two of us,” she said, basically confirming what I already knew. The man was scared enough of his wife finding out he’d cheated on her that he’d allowed himself to be blackmailed into running a drug import business.

  That was either a man who was deeply in love, or a stupid man.

  I was willing to bet on the latter.

  Sutherland crossed her arms over her chest, clearly disgusted by what was obvious to everyone in that room.

  “We’re supposed to believe you’d set up Ash to hide something as simple as an affair?”

  Joss glared at Sutherland. “You don’t know anything about him.”

  “Maybe not. But that seems like a really stupid reason to get wrapped up in this mess.”

  “He wasn’t just threatening to tell my wife,” Carrington said, straightening up again. “He was threatening to tell my daughters, to tell my staff. He was threatening to ruin my entire life.”

  “So, you risked going to prison for drug trafficking to stop that from happening?”

  “Nothing I did was illegal except for kidnapping Ash.”

  “Ash and Clint. And what about that FBI agent you walked out with Ash?”

  “She was in on it. She wanted out, so Jack had us take her, too. We were supposed to fake her death, but we never got around to it.”

  Silence fell in the room for a long moment as everyone absorbed the idea that they were planning to fake the death of a federal agent. No, no one was going to prison here.

  “What do you know about Jack Mahoney that we can use?”

  “I know where he’ll be in twelve hours.”

  “Yeah? How do you know that?”

  “Because he told me himself.”

  I think everyone was a little surprised by that. Jack Mahoney was not the kind of guy who often announced himself.

  “Where?”

  Carrington looked up, a little defiance on his face like he thought it might be a good idea to play games with Sutherland. But he clearly changed his mind.

  “He heard that Becky Kay was in the hospital. He’s planning to pay her a visit tonight.”

  Sutherland’s head snapped up, her interest suddenly intense. I could see the wheels turning in her head and I wanted to run in there, to tell her whatever she was thinking was a really bad idea. But I could also see the potential here.

  We could finish Jack Mahoney once and for all. It could be over.

  How could we possibly pass that up?

  It was an easy answer. We couldn’t.

  Chapter 22

  Sutherland

  “Hey, gorgeous.”

  I smiled as I crossed to the hospital bed, glad to see most of the bandages had been removed from Kipling’s face. Harley was at his side, a smile in place of the scowl that had greeted me on our first meeting.

  “You look good, my friend.”

  “I feel good. They’re letting me out of here soon.”

  “That’s awesome!”

  “Yes, it is,” Harley said, taking his hand in both hers. “They say he’s going to be just fine. Good as new in a few weeks.”

  “I’m glad.” I sat beside the bed and took his other hand, holding it between both mine, too.

  “Look at me, I’m such a lucky man. Two beautiful women to sit vigil at my beside.”

  “Don’t get used to it. I have a life now, you know.”

  He laughed and it was the sweetest sound I think I’d ever heard. We visited for a few minutes, not talking about Gray Wolf or any of the things that had happened recently. It was an unspoken thing, an understanding that this meeting was to be upbeat. Happy. No focusing on darkness.

  But there was concern in his eyes when I stood to leave.

  “Take care of yourself, Sutherland.”

  I bent to kiss his forehead. “You too, my friend.”

  Bodhi was standing outside the door when I stepped through. He didn’t say anything, just took my hand, and followed me down the hall to another door, another hospital room. He smoothed the hair away from my neck and kissed me there lightly before watching as I walked through the door.

  Clint was alone, lying under the white sheet like a man who was terribly uncomfortable in anything other than his own clothing, his own bedsheets.

  “I heard they’re going to let you out in the morning.”

  He sat up a little straighter when he heard my voice. His eyes moved over me, lingering on the cut that was slowly healing on my forehead, the bruises that were turning a lovely brown on my cheeks.

  “Ryan told me about your car accident. I’m sorry you got caught up in all of this.”

  “That’s my job.”

  “No. Your job is running that big, fancy ranch.”

  I pulled a chair to the side of his bed and sat down, not touching him as I’d done Kipling.

  “You know a lot about me.”

  “I’ve investigated you multiple times.”

  “Why?”

  He shrugged. “To make sure you were who I thought you were.”

  I bit my bottom lip, studying his face with a curiosity I hadn’t allowed myself before. There was something about the curve of his jaw, the slight tilt of his eyes, that was strangely familiar. But…

  “I don’t remember much before I was about four or five. By then I was in Austin. The only reason I knew I’d been abandoned in Houston was because one of my foster families had heard the story and they thought it was fascinating.”

  “Did you ever get your files from Houston?”

  “They were lost.”

  He shook his head. “Not lost. Just misfiled. Those people down there—” He stopped himself, but it was clear he was frustrated.

  “What don’t I know?”

  “Everything.” He studied me like I was studying him, his eyes moving over my face with an affection a part of me felt he hadn’t earned yet. Then his gaze dropped to the sheet covering his body, to the fingernails on his thick fingers, to anything that helped him keep his thoughts straight. “I was six, barely old enough to keep my memories clear. I only have vague memories of our mother, but the ones I do have are good ones. I mostly remember our father, his desperation after she died.”

  “She died?”

  “Cancer. Must have been a bad one, too, because she was gone quick. I remember him talking about how quick it had been, how unprepared he’d been.”

  I’d always had this kind of fantasy that my mother had died in childbirth, but then I had a child of my own and I realized just how awful that would be. I was relieved to know it wasn’t my fault my mother had died, but saddened just the same that a young woman had died so tragically.

  “Him?”

  “Our father. He traveled a lot. I think he was probably on the rodeo circuit or something like that. He didn’t know how to be a father, how to raise two kids on his own. He was overw
helmed, I think. I remember him talking to me at night, telling me things I didn’t understand then. I understand some of it now, but sometimes I wonder if my imagination just expanded on what I think I remember, you know?”

  I nodded. I knew.

  “I remember the day he left us in the hardware store vividly, though. He took me to the place where they keep the plywood because he liked the smell of it. Then he told me he forgot something in the car and I should wait for him there. I did. I waited a long, long time. Hours. Just standing there, you in my arms, afraid that if I put you down or if you started to cry he would be mad when he came back. He didn’t like when you cried.”

  “Did I?”

  He shook his head. “You were a good baby. You rarely cried.”

  Elizabeth was like that. It used to worry me, how quiet she always was.

  “One of the employees finally noticed us. He took us to the office and gave me a lollypop, thinking we’d just wandered off and our dad would be back. But when closing time came and he still hadn’t arrived, he had no choice but to call the police. And then things get fuzzy for me, but I remember the chaos of it. And I remember going to the hospital.”

  Clint rubbed his hand over his head, watching me again. “You were such a good baby. But when they took you from me, it was like you knew we’d been abandoned and you weren’t about to allow it to happen again. You screamed bloody murder until they brought your crib into my hospital room.

  “They kept us together for a while, but it became pretty obvious that no one wanted to adopt a six-year-old boy. They all wanted babies. So, they separated us, took you up to Austin to be adopted by this young, biracial couple. But I guess that fell through.”

  I shook my head. I knew nothing about this.

  “I moved around from home to home until I landed in a group home at twelve. And that…” He shook his head. “It was bad. But I survived.”

  “And joined the military.”

  “The Army.”

  I smiled. “That’s what I did.”

  He studied my face again. “I’ve investigated you for so long, studied the facts on paper, that I…I’m not sure what we’re supposed to do now.”

  I chuckled a little. “I’ve waited for answers for such a long time. I always thought that once I had them, they would fill this hole in my chest…” I touched the place, thinking it suddenly didn’t feel that empty anymore. “I just didn’t realize that it’d been filled a long time ago. Mitchell filled it. And Ash and Kipling and everyone else in my life.”

  Clint nodded. “I think I understand that.”

  “I’m glad you’re here. I’d like to get to know you.”

  “The same.”

  It was funny, though. I didn’t feel the same connection to him, this man who claimed to be my brother, this man with all the answers, as I felt to Kipling.

  I stood and took his hand gently in my own, holding it like I didn’t know what to do with it.

  “This is all going to be over very soon. And then, maybe, all of us can get on with our lives, we can move forward from this mess.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “I’d like you to meet my daughter. I think you’d really like her.”

  He smiled. “I’d like that.”

  I stood there for a minute, still holding his hand. Then I sighed.

  “Goodbye, Clint.”

  *****

  I lay in the bed, the lights dimmed, my thoughts wild and scattered. I found myself wondering what Mitchell would think if he could see me now. I was not the woman he’d fallen in love with. I was so different, more mature, more capable than the girl he knew. Would he still love me? Would he still find me amusing? I wasn’t sure.

  But Bodhi loved me. I knew it whenever he looked at me, whenever he touched me. The first time I realized it, my heart soared and I thought it was because I was amazed that a Hollywood hunk, a man millions of women fantasied about every night could want me. But then I realized that soaring feeling had nothing to do with his fame and had everything to do with the fact that I loved him as much as I was sure he loved me.

  That realization scared me. But it also exhilarated me.

  I was ready to love someone, ready to be loved by someone. I was ready to move on with my life and be a part of something that was bigger than I was. And I wanted to do it with Bodhi.

  I thought Mitchell would probably understand that.

  I had to consciously wipe the smile from my face when I heard the door open. He came to the bed, not suspicious by the fact that the lights had all been turned out. He touched my hand, taking it like he was really concerned by the state of my health.

  “Hello, Vivian,” he said softly. “Never thought you’d see me again, did you?”

  I felt the syringe before I saw it. We’d assumed something a little less subtle, a knife maybe. But I could work with this.

  I grabbed his wrist and twisted, shoving the gun into his generous gut as he began to struggle, the sound of the hammer moving into position distinctive to force him into submission.

  “Who are you?” he demanded.

  “Your worst nightmare,” Ash said, coming out from behind the curtains.

  Kirkland was there, too, smug smile on his face.

  And Donovan. And Hank.

  I wasn’t ever alone. Not anymore.

  The cops came into the room a moment later, handpicked members of both Steve’s sheriff’s office and the Casper police department, men we knew we could trust. The headlines the next day would be deeply satisfying:

  "FBI Most Wanted Arrested by Small Town Cops"

  Jack Mahoney was finally off the streets.

  Chapter 23

  Sutherland

  One year later…

  The sound of construction floated up to me from somewhere on the ranch. I couldn’t quite pinpoint it, but there was so much construction going on these days that it could have been coming from anywhere. MidKnight Ranch had truly become a family compound, little cottages and larger homes going up all around.

  Hank and Jonnie got married three weeks ago, and they were still floating on the clouds of their happiness, dreaming big as they toured the bones of their new two story home we were building not a thousand yards from the bunk house.

  Lance and Becky were moving into the new home they’d designed on a low hill overlooking the barn. There’s was a cute little cottage complete with a lovely bedroom for Cassidy and a nursery for the new baby.

  Kirkland and Mabel were doing renovations to the old guest house even though I’d offered to build them a new home, too. They liked the old place, but they needed more space for their growing family. Mabel had delivered twins five months ago, and they were already crawling through the dirt and debris that renovations had dumped on their family room. Not that it was a big deal because it was an excuse to bring them up to the main house more often, something that thrilled Elizabeth to no end.

  When she was here, of course.

  Elizabeth had discovered, despite my personal distaste for it all, that she loved walking the red carpet with Bodhi. That’s where she was now, walking the red carpet at the premiere of his new action thriller. She worried that I was missing out, but all I had to do was to watch her Snapchats to know what was happening. And Bodhi loved it, loved the chance to spend time with her, loved the fact that I hated the red carpet, loved that we somehow managed to make things work despite our very different lives.

  More than anything, he loved the pics I sent him of my swollen belly and the complaints that he thought were so incredibly adorable.

  Marriage was something in which Bodhi found endless supplies of things to love.

  And then there was Ryan and Clint. The two of them fought more than any couple I’d ever seen. But when they were happy, they were deliriously happy. I was hesitant when Bodhi offered them his ranch house. It was empty now since Jonah had gone back to New Zealand. I thought it was only inviting more trouble into my brother’s relationship with my passionate operative. But
they had finally found something they actually agreed on.

  Gray Wolf was flourishing. The ranch was running smoothly. It was like a whole new world compared to where we were just a year ago.

  Bobby Jensen had been an issue we’d almost forgotten to deal with in the aftermath of our dealings with the Mahoneys. When Hank finally pulled him aside to confront him with the proof Shelby had caught on his old camcorder, the kid folded like an accordion.

  “It’s my dad,” he’d said. “He has cancer. There’s not going to be money for college. There’s not even enough money for groceries, let alone my dad’s medical bills.”

  It was a sad reality of what was happening to most of the small ranchers in the area.

  It was Hank’s idea to have a fundraiser. And that first fundraiser had turned into a nonprofit he and Jonnie run, an organization designed to help displaced farmers and ranchers after they suffered foreclosure.

  And then there was Mahoney.

  It was still a mess the legal community was trying to unravel. But once Mahoney was behind bars, people came forward in droves, telling stories that amazed and frightened even the most seasoned law enforcement personnel. The depth Mahoney had gone to, the number of pockets he had his fingers in, the people he had in his own pockets…it was mindboggling.

  Clint’s bosses were arrested. Cops from Connecticut to California were arrested. Politicians in Washington, in most of the state capitals, people who had the power to make laws that were supposed to stop people like Mahoney were arrested.

  Mahoney had more power than anyone could imagine. If he hadn’t been stop, there was no telling how far he might have gone. But he was stopped. We’d stopped him.

  I raised my hand as the cars pulled up in a long line along the lane in front of my home. A year ago, I’d dreaded this sight. Today, I welcomed it.

  Ash Grayson got out of the lead car, always the first into any situation. He reached back into the car to help his wife, his infant daughter, and his gorgeous son out of the car. The boy danced around his father, a slight child with dark hair who looked just like his mother. He was seven now, a precocious child I had come to adore.

  Kipling stepped out of the second car, his wife, Harley, at his side. He had a slight limp now, but you could hardly notice it except when he was tired. He was still as handsome as he’d ever been, still as young and fit. And still as charming. I teased Bodhi often that if Harley ever left Kipling, he’d have a run for his money. Bodhi always laughed, but I think he understood how completely serious I was. Kipling would always hold a special place in my heart.