by Diana Stone
“I’m happy for you. And, um, will you be able to feed the horses today? Tomorrow I have my coworkers coming to trailer them to the new ranch. I’ll be their newest wrangler.”
“Wow, congratulations for settling that so quickly. Will you be living in the bunk house?”
“Yes, and I’m glad to be around a lot of people. I don’t need solitude. I’ll also be taking my things from the house. Two guys are coming with a 4-horse trailer. We’ll be making three trips. The furniture and last horse will be on the third trip.”
“Doing the math it sounds like you’re taking all nine?”
“Yes, I get to keep all my horses! They want all of us. I’m so happy. I don’t have to sell anyone. I was feeling so guilty.”
“What time will you be there? I’ll come by.”
“I’ll let you know, it’s sometime around noon. It will take a while.”
“Ok, see you then. I’ll be there this evening to feed.”
Quinn heard my reply to her texts. “She’s really going. That means either you’re there alone, or you need a plan.”
“She offered to sell me her horses, but I said no. I went over the financials and it didn’t make sense. I’ll have to figure out something—like somewhere to move them and me. I hope we can get this situation sorted out soon. I need to get on with my life.”
“I’ll put out the word and see what happens. There are several ways it could go,” he doesn’t sound optimistic about a fast resolution.
Ding: Monica texts: “Jess, I’m glad you’re safe. We worry about you. And the bad news is my video caught Heather looking in the front window last night. That means she’s back from wherever she was.”
“Oh no. I’ll tell Quinn and see what we can do.”
“Don’t bother the poor man with my problems.”
“I don’t think he’s bothered.” I look at him, and he shakes his head—it’s no problem.
“Thanks. I appreciate it. I’m just a simple baker.”
“Simple? Hardly. I’d like to stop by and pick up my things from your place, but I don’t want “my problems” to follow me to your house.
“Our place will feel empty without the two of you. Charlie and I enjoyed it.”
“So did I, and I know Nikki appreciated it. I’ll speak with Quinn about this new problem.”
“Thanks!”
I put down the phone and feel awake and ready for action. I need to find a boarding stable. Maybe I’ll hire someone to pick the girls up and trailer them out, so they won’t be seen with me.
Quinn is in the living room, deep in conversation with someone on the phone. He’s pacing around the coffee table. I swivel back around so he doesn’t get distracted by my inquisitive face.
I do a search for stables and am overwhelmed by the possibilities. One is Monty Roberts’ racetrack, another is family owned since the late 1800s, and has miles of trails and open space, there are breeding farms, private farms, and backyards.
I take a few screenshots and look around for a notepad—a real one, not one on my phone. I want to make notes with a pencil. Quinn is still on the phone. He’s speaking low and has moved into the bedroom. I’ll stay out here. Strangely, I don’t feel like snooping. That’s odd, I can remember feeling uncomfortable with other men in my life. But let’s be real, I know he isn’t speaking with some chick when he spent the whole night with me. He’s planning a campaign…
I wonder if he has a car I can borrow. Not the fancy Beemer. I need something invisible so I can check out the stables and rooms for rent. That’s depressing—renting a room. I wish I could stay with Monica and Charlie, but that’s out. It isn’t summer camp, it’s their home and a small one at that.
I slather gobs of cream cheese on the bagel and finally start eating.
I finish the half and wonder about having another.
I check my email, the stock market, and the weather. I scroll through Craigslist for rooms. They look fine. The prices are reasonable, but what if I’m followed there? I don’t want an innocent person getting hurt. I can’t even move back to my own house in Ventura, because I rented it out. Now what—a tent in a campground?
I’m not stressing. This will work out. I have assets, and I have weapons. I can sleep in my truck and even get a camper shell. It won’t be good at keeping out a hail of gunfire, but I can get cameras to alert me. That may work. I’ll park at the back of some empty campground. Fine, I have a plan.
Quinn comes back in, fuming. I take a second look. I haven’t seen him looking frustrated before. He’s been intense, and a few other dark emotions, but not like he’s stopped in his tracks.
“Good and bad news. The good is Travis, Dave, and Adam are on their way. They are my Delta Force brothers and are flying in to cover my back.”
I’m quiet. I know the opposite of good news.
“The bad news is the DEA won’t help you. They will for blood relatives and spouses. They also don’t have evidence the enforcers are after me. If that happens, then they’ll send a team to help me.”
“So it’s up to us. Will you be able to get to the head honcho, Coletti, or do you need their help for that?”
“I can do it.”
“How risky is it to walk in there alone?”
“As long as I keep them off balance I should be okay. They don’t know my hand and who I have backing me up.”
“Your worries are worse than mine. I only have to find a stable for my horses, and a room to rent.”
“You’ll stay here. I’m not letting you run around getting chased and, and,” he can’t say the rest.
He steps closer and looks at me with a slight smile. “I guess I should ask if you mind staying here. Does it piss you off, being told what to do?”
“No, for some reason you don’t piss me off,” I run my hand down his arm and stop at his wrist.
“I don’t have corrals. I’m sorry.”
“That’s okay. I just thought of something. I can ask Charlie where he recommends. As a vet, he knows all the stables. I won’t even go near them until this is over.”
“How are you going to feed tonight?”
“I’ll pay someone.” I’m silent for a minute. “Oh, stupid me… I’ll call Scott. He’s our emergency wrangler. He fills in for us when we can’t lead a ride. I’ll text him right now!”
I get that text sent, and one to Charlie to recommend a boarding stable—either permanent or temporary.
Ding: Scott replies “No problem, I’ll feed.”
“Thanks. We’ve had a problem with dangerous men. They’re gone now, but I don’t want more following me. I think you’re 99% safe. Nikki is moving out tomorrow with her horses. She’ll be leading rides from another stable. I’m not sure what I’ll be doing.”
“Oh, no! I hate to see you guys go. I liked filling in.”
“I’ll tell Nikki. And let me know when you feed this afternoon. Make sure to look around. If there is anyone around who shouldn’t be… get out, and call the police, and me.”
“Wow. Sounds neat. Like the wild west.”
“Yeah, it’s a bit wild.” We click off.
Quinn advises me, “On another note, Monica caught sight of Heather on her nighttime surveillance video at the bakery. It looks like she’s back.”
“Good. I’ll let the detectives know. I’ll also set up state-of-the art camera. It may give us more information.”
“What kind of information?”
“The resolution will be better than her little one. If Heather parks nearby, I can get the plate, car description, and maybe pick up a conversation if she says anything.”
“Have you asked to speak with the suspect from yesterday?”
“No. That’s next on my list. I’ll go to my office to get in the right mindset.” He gives me a hug. “It’ll be fine.”
“Should I stay here?” In this couple of rooms. I’ll feel caged.
“After this call, I’ll show you the rest of the place. I think you’ll be surprised. If you follow me
out, you can walk around the grounds.”
“Ok.” I stuff my phone in my jeans, grab my shoes, and follow him out the house door to the warehouse hallway. He walks me to the front door. He tells me the code and shows me where I can sit or walk around. “It’s completely fenced and monitored. You’re safe in here. Except from a bullet.”
“Great. Except for the bullet.”
“The road is under surveillance as well.”
“This is unusual.”
“Yeah, it is.” He turns from the fence to me. “I’ll enlighten you after I get this taken care of. Wish me luck,” he steps back inside.
This is more than unusual. It hints at secret stuff. I know he is with law enforcement, but so was I, and my house doesn’t look like this. I doubt a bullet would dare come through the chain-link fence. Plus, no one knows I’m here, in the middle of nowhere. My activities are being followed by a camera on someone’s screen. I follow the trail around the inside of the fence. It’s still misty and cool this morning. The property is behind a stand of eucalyptus, which provides some cover from the larger road I hear in the distance. This is mostly sage and grazing land. It’s a flat plain. The warehouse is painted and looks weathered. It blends in, artistically. Though, maybe it’s for other reasons than artistry.
It is in a low spot, so isn’t seen by the road. When there isn’t a forest for camouflage, you come up with other methods.
My phone dings a text: It’s Charlie with two stables for me!
I choose one and give them a call. I briefly explain my situation. The owner says thanks, but no thanks.
The second owner is a cowboy and listens carefully to what I’m saying. “Since Charlie suggested you call me, and you were staying with them, that’s good enough for me.”
We set up a time for tomorrow morning when they’ll pick up the girls using my trailer, and their truck. I want them loaded and out before the stress of moving nine of Nikki’s. There will be whinnying, pawing in the trailer, and galloping in the pasture. I don’t want them left as the last two on the ranch. Mine aren’t Quarter Horses, they’re more emotional. In other words, they can be idiots.
I finish my walk. I’m guessing its three acres, all security fenced. It’s a nice little parcel, with a bit more fencing than one would use for a vineyard or stable.
35
The Flight
I finish my walk, but I haven’t looked at the warehouse from all sides. It’s definitely camouflaged. There is netting across the sides that breaks up the hard lines. Hmm. Interesting. If I didn’t know Quinn, I’d be a bit uncomfortable. Maybe I am, with this high level of privacy. Some people think having a .38 is abnormal. Then I bought the .45. But this is way beyond my two guns.
It looks as though he moves in different circles than I do. Ha, that’s for sure.
The back has a huge door, like for a plane. Online, I’ve seen hangars for aviators who live in housing tracts with a communal runway. There is a landing zone and a short runway. I don’t know what can get off the ground that easily, unless it’s a Harrier, or a helicopter.
Finishing my investigation, I tap in the code for entry at the front door. A few steps down the hall and I see his office door is open, I hear him deep in conversation. I stop and listen—I’m not eavesdropping, but I’m not waving my arms and announcing my presence.
I’m in the middle of the hall. I hear a different tone of voice, similar to the one he used to tell the goon to drop the knife, or he’d be sorry.
“She doesn’t know where your guy is. She has nothing to do with this. Leave her out of it.”
He listens for a minute.
“I understand, but she’s mine—if you want to force the issue,” he sounds deadly.
The silence tells me he’s listening.
“Sure, we can meet, if you want confirmation. I have ample resources.”
More listening.
“Thank you. I appreciate you amending it. Good day.”
I step into sight at the door jamb and stand here waiting for him to notice. It looks like he’s decompressing.
“I see you, you can come in,” his voice sounds strained.
“Was that Mr. C?” I go around the back of his desk and lean against it, next to his chair.
“Yes. He claims he’ll call his men off.”
“Do you believe him?”
“Yes. But it’s called ‘trust but verify.’ I have a contact in his town. I’ll find out in a few hours if it’s true.”
“I’ll also know in a few hours… if more assholes come after me,” I give a false laugh.
He pulls me down to his lap, and holds me tight. “His little world will come to an end if he doesn’t fix this.” His voice changes back to that deadly one.
“Thank you for being here for me.”
“There’s something about you I find charming,” he chuckles. You don’t take crap from people, but in this case, you needed someone with more clout.”
“Yes, and I appreciate it. I hope it ends soon.”
“So do I. I also want to focus on Heather—if my cases give me the time to get her.”
“She’s low priority?”
“In a sense.”
“If you have the ability to go after Mr. C that means your skills must be in high-demand.”
“I wouldn’t say I have a lot of manpower, but yes, I have a few skills, and three good friends. Coletti looked at the information I provided. He figured it was better not to cross me. The important thing was to recognize him and his organization, while showing respect, but not fear.”
I’m relieved Quinn did this for me.
“Do you want to finish your tour?” he sounds eager.
“Yes, I’d love to. I walked the perimeter of the property and the warehouse.”
“I saw you.”
“I figured you did.”
“Really? Am I that transparent?”
“Yes. And because you have the cameras, I knew you were monitoring them.”
He smiles, and nudges me off his lap. “Come on.”
* * *
He opens the door… “Wow, a helicopter. I thought it looked like an airplane hangar, but I wondered about the runway being too short.”
The helicopter is a Bell. I recognize it from when the JetRanger was used on LAPD. This one looks meaner than the blue and white. It’s black with a gold stripe and is clean and dangerous looking.
“So you fly too.” I give him the look. He’s definitely a high achiever. He has his own helicopter.
“Yeah, I fly.” He looks pleased.
I leave his side and walk around it. “Nice, really nice.”
“Thanks. Would you like an aerial tour?”
“I’d love one!” Holy Moly that would be awesome. “I’ve been up on a ride-along with LAPD and loved it.” I like this brand, if you call it that. It’s big and reliable, not one of those little homemade bubble-copters.
“Let’s go look at the ranch and a few of your other haunts,” he suggests.
He picks up a box which remotely controls a dolly under the skids that rolls it out the door. It looks like a folding steel platform. What a great invention. I can see you wouldn’t want to start the engine in the hangar. That would scatter everything, and would be dangerous, with the blades spinning.
He stops it outside, unfastens the dolly and cues it to roll back to the building.
“It’ll take a few minutes for my preflight inspection.” He begins checking gauges, lights, hoses and belts; all the things I don’t bother with in my truck because I’m not a few thousand feet off the ground.
I mill around the hangar looking at the tool boxes and workbench, the lockers with touch up paint, and extra oil. It looks like he knows a little something about mechanics too.
I’m impressed by the flight check. He goes by the book when it comes to safety. It’s like he’s talking to himself as he explains to me what he’s checking. It takes much longer than a few minutes, but finally it’s time to climb in the cockpit and sett
le myself in the seat. The harness is a complexity of straps. He hands me a headset, then puts his on his head, but not fully over his ears. He flips a switch that turns on the engine while checking the gauges and hydraulics.
He starts it up and I feel a rush of adrenaline. I love the whine of the turbine. Oh boy, there’s something about big machines. This is a special machine. I wonder about the cost… because that’s a way to judge value.
“A tad bit over a million dollars. A million-one-fifty to be exact. But it’s a beautiful aircraft and is paying for itself.”
And we’re still sitting. It isn’t a fast process.
“Are you ready?”
He puts his headset on properly, so I do the same.
The whirling power lifts us off the asphalt, and we move forward, down the short strip. That’s why the fence is low at the end… so we don’t tangle in chain link.
And we’re moving up, into the sky.
I see miles of mostly flat land, sliced by highways and roads. The ocean is to the west, socked in with fog. We turn inland, toward the golden hills and sunshine.
I look at his hands and feet at the controls. You have to be able to coordinate everything at once. It makes me realize I’m not as bright as I thought I was. Darn. I’m just a little human trying to enjoy my life—and not get killed by those enforcers.
“Can we fly over the ranch first?”
“Sure,” He speaks to the control tower in that pilot-voice. I’m not sure how they do it.
We’re going along for several minutes, flying over vineyards and ranches. As we get closer to Los Olivos, I recognize the main road and the green pastures. He suddenly pulls off to the south.
“Where are we going? The barn is straight ahead.”
“There’s a car down there. I’m getting out of here. We’ll return at 2000 feet.”
I look out the window. I see a dark vehicle, not a usual pickup truck. “It may be a detective’s car.”
“Maybe. Why don’t you make a call?”
I place a call to Det. Kay. “Jessica? You don’t need to shout. I hear you fine.”