The Ranger

by Angi Morgan

  Chapter Eleven

  Mitch stopped retracting screws from the steel plating.

  “Thirty-five? King told you there’s thirty-five bricks of cocaine down here?” He wanted to react to her slip about the possibility that they could become involved. It wasn’t the time. He had to let it go and only think about Toby.

  “Rey didn’t know where it was, just that I have to find it if I want Toby back. We don’t know that it’s down here.”

  “That’s around a million dollars street value. That’s more than enough evidence to put him away for a very long time.”

  He continued removing the screws, pretty certain Brandie hadn’t realized she’d even spoken her complaint out loud. He would deal with it later. He had to finish one job before starting another. Toby, drug smugglers, then a possible relationship with Brandie. He was looking forward to that.

  “It’s not evidence. It’s ransom. We have to turn it over to them.”

  “I need to call Cord to document—”

  “No!” She jumped to her feet, hands karate-chopping the air. “We play this completely by Rey King’s rules and we get my son back.”

  He stood with every intention of going to her, calming her down, assuring her that he’d never do anything to put Toby in jeopardy. Instead, he just stood there. Holding on to the cord, he let the electric impact wrench slide and clang on the floor.

  “If you can’t do this my way, then you need to leave. Right now. Just go.” She bent to pick up the wrench.

  “That isn’t an option.” He pulled on the cord, drawing her close enough to wrap in his arms and rest his chin on the top of her head.

  The tears that had threatened fell again.

  She clung to the electric wrench and buried her face in his shirt. Completely lost, he just held Brandie tight. Unlike the last time he’d been around a woman crying. Not since junior high when his dad had moved out. His mother had cried for days even though it had been her yelling for his dad to get out. All Mitch had done was cover his head with a pillow.

  That wasn’t an option at the moment.

  “I’ll get Toby back,” he said softly across her head after the tears had lessened. “I have to do my job, too.”

  Her body and cheek were flush with him when she said, “What happens when this is all over and Rey finds out you’re a Ranger? What do you think he’ll do then?”

  “No one will know.”

  “I can’t risk it. He’ll kill us. All of us. That’s what monsters like him do when they get angry. We see it all the time.”

  “That’s on the other side of the border.” He bent his knees to look her in the eyes. “The Rangers can relocate you, put you in protection. Would it be such a bad thing?”

  At the moment, Mitch couldn’t imagine walking back into the same room as Bud Quinn. After the things he’d said about Brandie, how would she ever forgive him?

  She shoved him away and gripped the wrench tighter, dragging the cord across the concrete floor. “This is my home. Do you really think I could just walk away from everything I’ve ever known? Or take Toby away from his grandparents?”

  “But you just said a minute ago—”

  It didn’t make sense and wouldn’t. No one should go through the stress she was under at the moment. One of the strongest people he’d ever met turned from him and stared out the rear window. No one was out there. Just a small gravel lot where their cars were parked.

  She needed a minute to come back around. He was glad they were here instead of at her house with the Quinns. Her dad reminded him of his own father.

  His parents hadn’t had a pleasant divorce. Years of screaming were followed by years of complaints about each other. It made undercover work all that more appealing. Like Brandie, he hadn’t had any siblings. No one else shared the burden of their constant bickering. It fell on his shoulders and he learned real quick to not give either parent ammo about the other.

  But Brandie’s parents were essentially blackmailing her as much as King was. If she stepped out of line, she’d lose everything. Why didn’t she see it that way?

  “You should leave. Before you find out if anything’s under those pieces of thick steel. Go.” She stared out the window. Not facing him.

  “Is that what you really want?”

  He wasn’t leaving. There was no way he could leave her to face King by herself. But something in him pushed her for an answer. He wanted to hear her decision and wanted her to need him to stay. That particular emotion had never crept to the surface before.

  Need? Want? Desire? These weren’t normal emotions for an undercover Ranger.

  Damn.

  “You shouldn’t go against your principles, Mitch. If you have to tell Cord about the missing drugs, then so be it.” She was killing him with kindness. “But I’m afraid you’ll have to come back with a warrant.”

  She was working him like a problem customer. That’s what she did, and he admired her ability to be gracious and disagree at the same time.

  “It hasn’t escaped me that you are still holding that impact wrench. I imagine it’s to keep me from using it. So I’ll ask again. Do you want me to leave?”

  Her hands shook as her knuckles turned white. She clenched her jaw and visibly swallowed. All signs of someone trying hard not to say what they really want.

  “Brandie, honey.” He crossed the short distance to her again. “I’m here for you and Toby. I might get fired for my divided loyalties, but I heard of this great mechanic’s job, room and board included. Sounds like heaven.”

  The little spitfire hugged the wrench to her chest, shaking her head, sort of laughing and crying at the same time. “I can’t ask—”

  “Doesn’t seem like you did.” He squeezed her shoulders with his hands, squelching the desire to pull her to his chest yet again. “I volunteered. Now if you’ll give back the wrench, I can see if we can stop looking for King’s cocaine.”

  He extended his hand, and the power wrench was popped into his palm. That same look of relief she’d displayed on her porch at the sight of him this morning relaxed her features and her body. It was crazy, but he felt the same way. If she’d kicked him out, he might have thrown away his badge to stay.

  Insane was a better word that came to mind to describe his decision. Or maybe stupid. Like he’d said to her inside the café, one phone call and the resources of the state of Texas would be at their service.

  He knelt by the steel plates to remove the last few screws. “I must be crazier than I look.”

  “Well, I don’t know, Mitch. You’re acting about as crazy as me.” She began clearing the floor, picking up parts, setting them on the shelves.

  “Last one. Brandie?”

  Her hands encircled her neck, and she looked toward the ceiling. “Change your mind?” She dropped her hands, slapping her thighs before she looked at him.

  “Nope. I’m not calling for backup. I’m not going to stop the exchange and we’re going to get Toby back. I’ll be with you a hundred percent of the time. No exceptions.”

  “Great. Can we see if it’s even there?”

  He knew it was the only place it could be. “I’m going to document the money. Rey King is going to jail and this will put him there.”

  Her eyes closed as she took in a deep breath. “So be it. I just want my son back safely in my arms.”

  He took his phone from his pocket, took pictures and then removed the last screw. The plating had been screwed to a wooden frame first covered in plywood to make it safe to walk in the shop. The length and weight of the frame should have been impossible to lift. But under the metal cover, the plywood had been cut. Two finger holes made it possible to lift, revealing the ladder underneath.

  “This is it.” Mitch took a couple of pictures and lifted the wood, then took a few more of the pit. “Empty.”

  Brandie was just behind his shoulder. “Glen wouldn’t have gone to all this trouble to hide nothing.”

  “There’s no guarantee that whoever killed hi
m doesn’t have the cocaine.”

  “It’s kind of dark down there. I’ll grab a flashlight.” She ran into the café.

  There wasn’t a question of whether he was going or not. He just didn’t want Brandie to fall apart when they didn’t find anything. He was already on the top rungs when she handed him a tiny penlight from her key ring.

  “Take pictures, will ya?” He held out his phone.

  She slid his cell into her pocket and sat on the side, ready to come over the edge. “Don’t even argue with me. You might miss something.”

  She shimmied down the ladder faster than he could figure out how to turn the flashlight on by twisting the end cap. It was close quarters, barely enough room for a man his size to maneuver comfortably. And man alive was he uncomfortable with Brandie down there with him.

  “Looks like you should have connected that wire. Then maybe these fluorescents would come on.” She flipped a switch up and down but nothing happened.

  It was dark, so looking at all the notches on the wall would take a few minutes. Brandie stuck out her hand, and he gave her the light. She immediately walked to the far end.

  “Oh, my gosh, Mitch. That’s a handle. Can you reach it?”

  “Stand back. If it’s a block of cement then I’m going to control where it lands. Doesn’t make sense, though. It would be too heavy for one man to move.”

  He yanked, and a square board smeared with concrete pulled away. Along with a stack of cash and a couple of .38 Specials, there was a duffel filling the entire back of the hole. The light flashed on his cell. Brandie was taking the pictures, documenting what they found.

  He reached for the bag but hesitated. The urge to call Cord grew. Along with a very bad feeling. Nothing tangible. He just knew something was going to go wrong if they didn’t bring the Rangers on board.

  “Aren’t you going to see what’s inside?” She stretched her hand toward the bag.

  “Wait. Did King tell you when to meet?”

  “Yes. I’m supposed to call and meet later today if I find the package.”

  “Then we’re going to need proof.”

  “Of what?” she asked as he tugged her back toward the ladder. “No. You’re trying to convince me to call the law. To let your friends handle this. Rey said I’d never see Toby again. Do you want that on your head?”

  “You came to the conclusion that Pete knew what was going on. He didn’t hang around and he didn’t leave a deputy to stay with you. Your son’s been kidnapped and he didn’t leave anyone here to see if you would be contacted. That’s not procedure in any law enforcement agency.” Mitch’s jaw muscle twitched as he ground his molars together.

  “That...that doesn’t mean anything.”

  Mitch took her hand in his. Her hands were chilled from the coolness in the pit or maybe holding the ice earlier. “He knows something’s up and he’s trying to trap us for some reason.” He released her hand and rubbed the back of his neck.

  As dark as it was, he could see the slight shake of her head as she acknowledged his idea, but still tried to ignore it. At the bottom of the ladder, he waited for her to grab the rung. She shrugged off his hand.

  “You’re wrong. He wouldn’t do that. We’ve known each other forever.”

  “Brandie, he’s a cop. He’s doing his job and he wouldn’t be worth his salt if he couldn’t figure out someone’s threatening you.”

  Her hand covered her cute little O-shaped mouth. She got it and he hated springing it on her. Right then in a car repair pit, with the smell of a decade of grease, oil and other smells...all he wanted to do was comfort her. Make her believe everything would be all right. Convince her beyond a shadow of a doubt that he had the answers.

  He did. But she wasn’t going to like them.

  “What do we do?” she asked softly.

  “First, I’m putting everything back the way it was. Wait for it.” He pressed a finger to her lips at the first inhaled breath or objection. “Then we make a video of coming down here and finding everything. We document our movements. You admit that you’re being forced to cooperate in order to get your son back.”

  “You’re treating me like a criminal.”

  “We can’t prove these drugs aren’t yours. We have to do this my way to protect you.” And put Rey King in jail.

  “Why don’t you believe they belong to me?”

  “The thought never crossed my mind.” Mitch handed her the penlight. “Hold that, will ya?”

  She stayed put while he put the wall cover back in place. She didn’t wait for instructions after he was done. Flashlight off, she climbed out of the pit. He followed and put everything back in place while she searched for something on his phone. She wouldn’t find anything except a few random pictures of Toby or a car.

  It seemed a little ridiculous, but he put every screw back in place. He wanted her name squeaky clean. The way he felt about her, having already been reprimanded for blowing his cover—to her... Yeah, he had to think about protecting her from future accusations.

  “We need his fingerprints,” she said out of the blue. “Do you know how to lift prints? It’s okay, I’ve looked it up on the internet. We’ve got everything we need here.”

  “That’s a smart idea.” He stuck out his hand for the cell, switching it to video. “If something goes wrong. Hey, I’m not saying it will. But if something goes wrong, this may help find Toby. You ready?”

  The video captured all the raw emotion Brandie was experiencing and the purple-colored jaw from where she’d been hit. She explained everything pertinent to the case. She didn’t need to mention that King had threatened to expose her son’s parentage. This would be enough.

  When they were done, he sent the file to a secure email account. “You’re positive you don’t want to involve anyone else for help or even backup?”

  “We can’t.” A simple statement of fact this time.

  “Then let’s get started.”

  Mitch opened everything again while Brandie held the phone, recording. They found a regular-sized flashlight, which brightened everything once they were down the ladder. And this time, he took the money and gun out of the homemade wall safe and wrapped them in his shirt until they could secure a substitute evidence bag.

  Back upstairs, Brandie found his charger still plugged into the wall so they could continue recording. He set the duffel on the bed. She stayed his fingers on the zipper.

  “What if this isn’t the drugs?”

  “Only one way to find out.”

  There was no reason to second-guess themselves. The bag was stuffed to capacity. If King was missing thirty-five bricks of cocaine, this was probably it.

  “Let’s make that fingerprint powder and get this over with.” She turned off the camera on the cell and dropped it to the mattress.

  As she sorted through the rubble in the café for what she needed, Mitch swiped the video record button, switching the image to record himself.

  “Cord, this was the best I could do. If the exchange for Toby goes wrong or if something happens to me... For the record and without a gun to my head, this video should serve as my last will and testament. I want Brandie Ryland to receive my benefits and savings. I’m counting on you, man, as one Ranger to another, that you’ll get Brandie and her son out of this mess here in Marfa. Make sure she’s safe for me.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “Patrice, my love. I missed you last night.” Rey waltzed into the kitchen as if he didn’t have a care in the world. At least not the version he lived in. Patrice had already learned about how he’d messed things up.

  The Amber Alert on her phone had awoken her hours ago from a sound sleep, notifying the entire state of Texas of Toby Ryland’s disappearance.

  Patrice’s world had been missing thirty-five bricks of cocaine for far too long. The filthy mechanic had managed to hide it from them, and Rey had been too quick with his death. The drugs had to be at the café. It was the last possible place they could be hidden. Rey had complicated ev
erything with this kidnapping.

  The buyers had expected the cocaine in their hands weeks ago and were becoming impatient. She could placate them for only so long and it looked like time had run out. But kidnapping the boy had never been part of their strategy to find it.

  Rey kissed her on the cheek, greeting her much like a longtime boyfriend should. They’d been together for three very long, tedious years. She took a sip of her coffee, and as was his custom, he swung around to her back, dropping his hands to caress her bare breasts beneath her robe.

  “Slow down.” She shrugged away and pulled the robe closed. “What happened last night?”

  He leaned on the kitchen bar next to her and snagged the last piece of her bacon from her plate. She absolutely hated when he ate her food. She hated a lot of things about Rey King. Too many to think upon at the moment.

  It had been months since she’d been satisfied—sexually or in her everyday routine. She loved variety in her life and bed. It was definitely time for a change. Time to make her move and prove who’d been running the show all along.

  “We snatched the kid. So I figure we’ll have the blow by this afternoon.”

  He’d purposefully deviated from her plan. She was furious and couldn’t show it. The time wasn’t right. He might get the wrong idea and realize that the Chessmen organization was as fictitious as his brains.

  “Rey, baby.” She laid on the thick accent he liked that was a very sad Marilyn Monroe. “Do you think the men in charge are going to get mad, sug? I mean, they said to bust some stuff up, but what if the kid’s mom lets the police help find him? Things could get real complicated. Will there be extra cops and state troopers on the highways?”

  “Their way was too slow. We got the kid. I guarantee we’ll have the cocaine by tonight.”

  He kissed her and slid his hands under the silky material again. The Marilyn imitation always got him turned on. And if he was thinking with one certain piece of his anatomy, he wouldn’t be thinking with any other. Some men were so easily manipulated. And even more loved the dumb blonde she could imitate so well.