Upper Hand (Cedar Tree Book 5)

by Freya Barker

  “That’s the Sam who you mentioned before? Brian’s friend?” When Gus nods, I sit back and feel Clint slip his arm around me and tuck me close.

  “One and the same.”

  I’m still trying to process this information. “They sent my boy into a situation like that without any protection?” Now the blood started boiling good. “That Damien comes around, you’re gonna have to stand in line, Gus. I’ll be first getting my licks in.”

  Clint’s hand squeezes my shoulder. “I’ll help,” his deep voice rumbles before he turns to Gus. “What I don’t get, is why your buddy suddenly feels like sharing?”

  “He’s aware of what’s gone down today and feels it’s in everyone’s best interest to share intel. Meaning he wants to know what I know and then tried to get me to shut down our investigation. He can try—it’s not gonna happen.”

  I don’t have to look at Gus to see how he feels about that, his voice is dripping with sarcasm.

  I run through the events of the past weeks and reassess everything that’s happened. “So they were out there watching when I got beat on?” My mind is spinning, but before I can verbalize what I’m thinking, Clint suddenly straightens up beside me when he clues in.

  “Those fucking assholes! They’re using Beth as bait, waiting around for either Dylan or one of those goons to show their faces, aren’t they?”

  Clint’s outburst serves as an intro to a discussion on the moral code of the FBI, where he voices his displeasure his woman was hurt and his brother was taken, all right under the noses of the feds. Then Gus puts in his two-cents worth, pretty much agreeing to whatever Clint says. That leaves me inside with a still seething Clint, while Gus goes out to talk to Mal, to ‘bring him up to speed.’

  “You hungry?” I try to change tracks. That, and I also feel the sudden need to do something constructive, however basic it may be. When I don’t get an answer, I turn and find him looking at me with a half-smile on his face. “What?”

  “I could find other ways to keep you busy,” he suggests, reaching out to play with a strand of hair that’s slipped out of my ponytail, and I feel the slow heat invading my body.

  “Bet you could,” I say, leaning in to him, “but what with the two very hot, big security guys right in and out of our house, that might not be the best idea.” I close the distance and lightly touch my lips to his. His arms surround me. He twists me so I’m sitting on his lap, my legs on one side of him and my back against the armrest. One hand slides up my back and twists my hair in his fist.

  “Very hot?” he growls and I suppress a snicker. I figured he’d pick up on that. With his face an inch from mine he mutters, “Not the only thing I noticed you saying, Bean. I like the way you call this our house. Like it a lot.” Then his mouth descends on mine, effectively cutting off the denial my lips are about to form, and his tongue sweeps in deep, eradicating the capacity for coherent thought.

  I’m able to think after, though. When we’re interrupted by one of said, very hot investigators, Gus, followed in by an also very hot Neil, who must’ve shown up while Gus was outside. After Neil rigs up my phone, with some doohickey that looks like an adapter, but is supposed to open a call to his laptop so he can listen in. I’m in my head all during his explanation. He’ll record and track said call at the same time. Even after I’ve made some sandwiches, another pot of coffee, and watched all of them devour it. Now I’m cleaning up in the kitchen, and with my hands in soapy water. I think hard about how somewhere along the way I’d made the switch in my head from ‘Clint’s house’ to ‘our house’, when the phone rings.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  “Got him.”

  These last minutes may well have been the longest of my life. I’ve been instructed to keep the guy on the phone as long as possible, to give Neil a chance to trace the signal, which apparently requires a certain length of time. Don’t ask me what I all said, ‘cause from the moment I answer the phone and he asks if I’ve found Dylan, it all becomes a blur. I know the guys had instructed me to try and avoid giving a direct answer right away. I manage to do that by asking about “Clint,” who in actuality is standing right beside me, and distracting the guy with questions. He finally interrupts me with a curt, “I’ll check again in six hours. Better have something real to tell me,” before hanging up.

  “Where?” Gus is instantly behind Neil, leaning in to get a look at the screen of his laptop, while pulling his phone out.

  “South on the 160, looks to be around the Ute casino. I’m pulling up the satellite image of the general location now.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Clint’s living room is full of activity. Gus and Neil are joined by Joe and Mal around the coffee table, now covered with detailed maps of the area. Clint has joined the cluster and I find myself on the outside looking in. The overwhelming need to do something propels me back in the kitchen for another pot of coffee. It’s already close to eleven at night and from the sound of it, they’re not planning to wait around for daylight, so coffee and something to eat would probably be good.

  “Three possible locations,” I hear Joe say when I join the group, armed with a fresh pot and a plate of sandwiches. “Mal, Neil, and I each check out one, look for activity. Gus, you can monitor from a central point. Whoever finds something, calls in and we come up with a plan of attack on the spot.”

  “I’m coming.”

  Every other eye in the room turns to Clint, but it’s Gus who says something. “I get you, but—“

  “Me, too,” I throw in, straightening my back and lifting my chin at the almost tangible testosterone free-floating through the room.

  “Hell no. Not gonna happen,” Clint growls, his mouth drawing tight. The faces of the other guys are just as firmly set.

  “Listen, I know you guys are all about protecting, but you don’t know what you’re stepping into and will likely need all hands on deck. I’d be safer with you than staying behind.” I stand my ground, picking Gus to focus on, since he’s the one calling the shots on this.

  I know I’ve won when he lowers his eyes and shakes his head mumbling, “fucking stubborn women,” before turning his eyes back on me and taking a deep breath. “Both of you stay in the truck, no matter what happens.” He swings his pointed finger between Clint and I, but Clint doesn’t even notice, he’s too busy glaring at me. Whatever.

  -

  -

  Not down with this plan at all, but Beth’s got a point. Fuck.

  While the guys hash out details, I move over to Beth, who’s leaning against the dining room table and take a firm hold on her shoulders. Bending in with my face inches from hers, I make sure I have her full attention. “This is over, you and me are gonna have some words.” I can feel a shiver going through her body and heat flares in her eyes, whether from anger or arousal I can’t tell, and my cock doesn’t care—it’s rock hard. Damned if I don’t know whether to lay her over my lap or fuck her on the dining room table. Maybe both. “Careful,” I caution her in a low voice, “not a good time to play with fire, woman.”

  “Beth, give Katie a ring and fill her in?” Gus’s voice interrupts, and I reluctantly lift my eyes from hers. Beth’s light up and I realize she’s getting off on this. Fuck me. She’s enjoying it altogether too much. With a slight eyebrow rise to me, she grabs the phone and proceeds to explain in surprisingly concise and detailed terms what is going down to Katie.

  “Gus—Katie wants to know if you need Caleb there.”

  “No. Max is his priority,” Gus lifts his head to answer Beth, before ducking down over the maps again. Now I feel like a fifth damn wheel, but before I get a chance to wallow, Gus turns to me. “You armed?”

  “I am.”

  “Good. Make sure Beth has hers locked and loaded, too. We’re gonna roll out in fifteen; you and Beth in with me, everyone else in their own vehicle. We’ll be setting up across the casino in the trees in front of the trailer park. Neil’s gonna take the building to the east of the casino where Morning Star Lane makes a sh
arp turn. Joe take the one just south of the Ute travel centre by the Mobil station and Mal, you take the building by the north exit onto Morning Star. Neil, you’ve got all the phone tags activated?” When Neil confirms with a curt “yup.” Gus claps, stands up and says, “Let’s roll guys. Make sure you’re dressed warm, it’s colder than a witch’s tit out there.”

  -

  Half an hour later, with Beth in the back of the Yukon, Gus and I in front, and each of the other guys in their own vehicles, the convoy of cars is on the road approaching the north cut off for Morning Star Lane. Joe and Neil continue on to the south exit to Westminster Road from where Joe turns south for the Mobil station, and Neil can get into the casino grounds on the north side. It’s pretty dark on the road, but with what little light there is from the road and the few buildings around, you can see a bit of the surrounding landscape. Pretty desolate out here. Mostly desert and mountains with little vegetation other than sagebrush and like Gus said, freezing cold.

  Mal is the first to turn off into a cluster of buildings just north of the casino, where he is to leave his car and continue on foot. Gus turns into a short dirt drive just past where Mal left off, leading to a copse of trees, sheltering the small trailer park. He maneuvers the truck so we have a good view of the road going both north and south. Not a lot of talking in the car, except for the guys reporting their progress over the phone.

  Five minutes pass, then ten, and fifteen. Neil and Joe have checked in three times, but we haven’t heard from Mal since he said he found a way inside.

  “Something’s up. I’m gonna check it out. When the other guys check in on the radio, give them the heads’ up, and if they’re clear, tell them to leave their cars in the casino parking lot and walk over here,” Gus instructs as he grabs a portable radio and slips out, taking care not to slam the door. Beth doesn’t waste any time and climbs over the back seat, plopping beside me in the driver’s seat.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Always wanted to drive this thing,” she says, immediately touching buttons and adjusting mirrors like a little kid. “It’s huge!”

  “Beth,” I use my low voice in hopes of conveying a message but all I get back is a big smile ear to ear. Yeah, she’s enjoying this far too much. “You’re not gonna drive it, so stop messing with the dials. Gus is gonna flip.” When she doesn’t listen, I grab her hand and hold it. “Babe, enough. What if he needs to make a quick getaway or whatever? Don’t mess with a man’s settings.”

  “Don’t mess with a man’s settings?” she snorts before snapping the gum in her mouth loudly. I’m sure she’s about to tell me how ridiculous that is, when I spot a car coming from the south and pulling in the drive. Luckily we’re off to the side and partially hidden, but not ready to take chances, I push down Beth in the driver’s seat and duck myself. Just as I see the headlights of the car slipping past us, Beth pushes my hand away from her head and pops up to check out the car, before ducking down again.

  “What the hell, Beth? Stay the fuck down,” I bite off, but she turns to look at me with a combination of fear and excitement in her eyes.

  “That was him,” she hisses, “the guy from the parking lot. It was him. They’ve gotta be back here somewhere. Let’s go.”

  “Like hell. We’ll call Gus on the radio, let him know. You’re gonna stay here.”

  “But Jed...what if they move him before they get here?”

  God, Jed. Only takes me a minute to make up my mind. Cupping Beth’s face in my hands, I press a hard kiss to her lips before answering. “No, Beth. We don’t even know for sure Jed’s here. You get in touch with the guys and tell them what’s up. Stay in the car and keep your head down. I’ll go have a look.” Before she has a chance to stop me, I’m out of the car and pull out my gun while following the now dimming headlights of the car.

  -

  -

  Fucking Clint.

  Grabbing the radio from the console, I press the button on the side. “Gus? Hello? You there?” Nothing but a crackling sound returns to me, so I try again. “Gus? Joe? Anybody out there?”

  “What’s going on,” Gus’s distorted voice comes through and in as few words as possible, I explain the situation. “Keep your head down and for fuck’s sake, stay in the car. I’m heading back, can’t find Mal. Neil, Joe, you copy this?”

  “Copy. Nothing moving on my end,” Joe radios back.

  “Copy. Same here. Dead end.” That’s from Neil.

  Reassured they’re on their way, I slip open the door and slide out of the seat, ignoring the sound of Gus’s voice, still talking. Closing the driver’s side door with a soft click, I settle the gun, which had been in my purse on the backseat of the Yukon, in my right hand and head in the direction I saw Clint disappear. They think I’m going to leave my man to fend for himself, they’ve got another thing coming. My son caused this mess. I’m grateful to have had the presence of mind to slip on running shoes instead of my winter boots. Moving around on them is a lot quieter. I stick to the tree line alongside the path, in case anyone comes back down this way, but the further I get from the truck, the thinner the tree cover becomes. To my dismay, I discover that the wooded area really is only on the side of the road, because I can clearly see the group of trailers now. Other than the occasional tree, there isn’t much cover at all. Damn.

  Coming to a point where the path forks in opposite directions, in what appears to be a loop around the property. Outside of the loop all you can see is desert and some brush, but nothing much to hide behind. I’ll do much better to stick to the inside and find cover between the trailers. Doesn’t seem to be anyone around, the trailers appear to be empty, which makes sense given that these look to be vacation trailers. No one in their right mind would want to spend a freezing cold night in a trailer. Unless you’re looking not to be found. After first looking to see if anyone is out there, I crouch as low as I can while running and beeline it to a spot between the first two trailers. When I get there, I drop down on hands and knees beside the trailer hitch of the one on the left, on a little patch of grass, catching my breath. I listen for any noises and peek around the side to see if I can spot the dark colored sedan parked somewhere. Nothing here. Looking ahead at the next two back to back trailers, I spot some movement about five trailers down the row. The sound of a screen door and some scuffling of feet, but before I can head toward it a large hand clamps over my mouth.

  -

  -

  Fucking Beth.

  Should’ve known she wasn’t about to sit there and follow instructions like a normal person. No, not her. I get she maybe feels some responsibility, but Jesus, just yesterday she had her first go at a shooting range and before that hardly ever had a gun fit in her hand. On top of that, she’s been worked over by this guy once already, she looking for a repeat?

  “We get out of here, you and I need a meeting of the minds. Or rather, my hand has something to say to your ass. There are times you can throw your independence and attitude around, but babe, this is not one of them,” I whisper in her ear, my hand still covering her mouth, not giving her a chance to talk back. “Serious pain in my ass you’re turning out to be. Are you gonna listen to me?” Not sure whether to trust her when she nods her head, I slowly remove my hand, ready to clap it back over her mouth if she gets loud. Can’t have that, not with the guy holed up in the white and grey Dutchmen trailer a couple of spots down. But she doesn’t make a sound, only turns around to face me and her eyes are fierce. She grabs my shoulders and pulls herself up on level with my ear. Automatically my hands slide around her waist, but I’m pretty positive she’s not preparing to whisper sweet nothings in my ear.

  “I swear, if I just wet myself for real when you freaked me the hell out, I’m going to plan a horrible, horrible revenge,” she hisses at me. Before she has a chance to build up more steam, I slam my mouth down on hers, tongue licking at the seam of her lips to gain entrance. She finally relents, after what I’m sure will be permanently scarring on my shoulde
rs with her nails, and her rigidly angry body goes soft in my arms. Satisfied I’ve kissed the piss and vinegar right out of her, I release her lips, but leave my nose touching hers when I get down to business.

  “About three or four plots up, Dutchmen trailer on the left. Stay behind me and tuck that gun away. Don’t wanna get shot in the back.” Without wasting any more time and not giving her a chance to respond, I move in front, tucking Beth behind my back.

  By the time we pass the next trailer, we can hear muted voices. Two males, maybe three, arguing. Beth slips her hand in the back of my jeans, but doesn’t say anything. The closer we get, the clearer the voices become, and I’m not liking what I hear. When one voice asks, “Where is the baby, ‘Frajer’?” in a thick accent, I assume it’s Polish. At least it sounds European to my ears. I can clearly hear the response.

  “Wasting your time. I don’t know where he is and if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.” That’s Jed’s voice. No mistake. Beth hears it too, her hands holding on to my biceps now, squeezing. Then everything happens fast.

  “Bzdura!” is yelled loudly and I immediately hear the sound of a struggle. Skin hitting skin. Without thinking, I pull myself from Beth’s grasp and bridge the distance to the Dutchmen trailer in just a few large strides, yank the door open, and barrel inside, hoping the element of surprise is on my side. The large frame of a man is bent over and punching something, or someone. With one hand to the back of his shirt, I pull him off, revealing my brother, sitting in a kitchen chair, hands and feet duct-taped to it, and his face barely recognizable. Bastards. I swing my hand toting the gun around to aim at the guy I pulled off him, but the element of surprise has shifted. This time it’s me who is blindsided. A sharp kick underneath my gun hand flings the gun up and out of reach. Too shocked at the condition of my brother, I’d delayed in making sure the guy was covered, and now I’d lost my one advantage. Fuck me. The big idiot comes at me with a huge grin on his face, ready to lay into me when he stops and looks over my shoulder.