by A Parker
“And the more you share with me, the less peculiar I think you are,” I said coldly. Sure, poking the bear might have been dangerous, but the Ranger in me wanted to rock the boat. The best information came from men who thought they had the upper hand when speaking to a woman they saw as nothing more than a fly on the wall or a pretty thing to look at. To use. To claim.
To damage.
“And just what is that supposed to mean?” he asked quizzically.
“Well,” I said, taking another puff on my cigar, “it’s taken me a long time to riddle out whether you were a psychopath or a sociopath. I gather your father was an abusive man, which leads me to the conclusion that you are, in fact, a sociopath.”
His eyes narrowed.
I smiled. “It means your mental state was created by your situation, not your biological makeup.”
“I know what it means,” he growled.
I blew smoke. If he wasn’t two heads taller than me, I might have been able to blow it in his face like he’d done to me all those weeks ago. Dimly, I wondered when and how my balls got so big. Maybe it was after killing a few guys.
“Tell me what you want out of this deal, Miss Hart.”
I glanced at Caroline. Had she not told him the details of our conversation?
Caroline looked away, and I felt a tug at my subconscious.
Are Bates and his daughter not as co-dependent as I thought? What is this tension between them?
More than anything, I wanted to put my cigar out, but I took another pull and hoped I looked as cool as Tex when he puffed on his cigarettes. It was unlikely, but I felt a bit like a bad ass as I stared up at the man who’d nearly killed me and had killed others. “I want to go home.”
“I’m listening.”
This was it. My big moment. If I didn’t sell this, he might kill me right there in his little garden.
“I’ve given too much to this shithole town,” I started, “and the Devil’s Luck aren’t worth my career, let alone my life. I’m done letting them have power over me. I’m done letting them tell me what I can and can’t do. I want out, and I figure the best way I can do that is to go to the man who runs this place and give him what he wants.”
I wasn’t sure if flattery would work with a man like Bates, but his eyebrows lifted and he looked almost impressed. “And what is it that I want, Miss Hart?”
Shrugging, I flicked the end of my cigar like it was the most casual thing I could ever do. “The Devil’s Luck on a silver platter, obviously.”
Chapter 17
Jameson
I’d been cruising through Reno for half an hour looking for my Texas Ranger girl and had come up empty. There weren’t many places she could go at this time of the morning. Sure, some cafes that catered mostly to truck drivers and early morning workers were beginning to open, and the McDonald’s were open twenty-four/seven, but Carrie wasn’t there, and I’d have been a fool to think she’d left my house two hours before dawn just to get an egg McMuffin.
No, this was about something more than that.
You know what this is about, I thought morosely. This is about Bates.
My mind flashed with terrible images of what might have happened to her, and I thought of Tracy Kiss, the poor stripper who’d been found murdered in a ditch almost two months ago.
Two months.
Where was the time going?
How had so much time passed since the bastard rolled into town and turned everything upside down?
I had half a mind to call Jackson and tell him that Carrie was AWOL, but I didn’t want to risk what he’d do to her if he found her. She thought he’d been hard on her the other day? Not even close. If he thought she’d snuck out and was making moves behind our backs, he’d do what he had to in order to protect the MC.
Which is what I should do.
I pulled down a side street and kept my head on a swivel as I searched for her. My bike rumbled loyally but I didn’t push her to her limits. I had to keep the speed off if I was going to spot Carrie. She might be in trouble.
Or worse.
I gritted my teeth.
I had to stop thinking like that. She wasn’t mine to protect, and for all I knew she was selling us out this very minute. I wanted to trust her. Hell, I wanted to trust her more than anything. But I couldn’t. Not yet. She still didn’t make sense to me, and she still wouldn’t let me in enough to tell me what she was really plotting.
If she brought us down, I’d never forgive myself.
It would all be on my head. A pair of pretty blue eyes and a killer ass made me dimwitted and weak.
So weak.
I gripped the handlebars and took another turn. Up ahead, a neon Open sign flashed at a dingy bar. I’d never set foot in the place because I knew it was owned by Bates.
A lightbulb flashed in my head and I cut across traffic to pull into the nearly empty parking lot. A big bouncer stood at the front door, and he glowered at me as I moved through the doors. No host greeted me, so I wove around tables and made my way to the bar where a gray-haired man poured a cocktail glass full of tequila and slid it down the bar to a guy in a trench coat who looked down on his luck.
I leaned on the bar but didn’t sit down. “Hey, man,” I said, “have you seen a girl in here tonight? Blonde hair, blue eyes, real smoke show, would’ve looked out of place?”
The bartender stared blankly at me.
Grumbling, I pulled a twenty-dollar bill out of my wallet and slapped it down on the counter. “She’s about five foot three, slender, fit, too stubborn for her own good?”
“She was here.”
“When?” I heard the relief in my own voice.
“A while ago,” the bartender said with a greedy smile. He was missing an eye tooth and the others looked like they were rotting out of his mouth.
I put another twenty down.
He swiped it off the bar and tucked it in the front pocket of his button-down shirt. It was stained with grease and liquor. “About an hour ago. She came in alone, sat down for about half an hour, and then received company.”
“Who was it? Did you know them?”
The bartender shrugged.
I cast a wary glance over my shoulder. The bar was practically empty. A group of four played a quiet game of pool, and the drunkard three stools down from me nursed his tequila.
I turned back to the bartender and lifted a hand to curl my finger in a come-hither motion.
The bartender frowned.
I beckoned him forward again, and the fool leaned over the bar.
With one hand, I seized the front of his shirt and hauled him right up against the bar. He wheezed in pain as his gut hit the edge and knocked the air out of him. I gave him a rough shake and tightened my hold on the collar of his shirt, nearly choking him.
“Listen,” I growled, “I need to find that girl. She’s in trouble, and an asshole like you isn’t going to stand in my way. Do you fucking understand?”
He nodded weakly.
“Tell me who came in with her.” I loosened my hold on his shirt so he could speak.
“Caroline Bates,” he managed.
Fuck me. “Did they leave together?” I asked.
“Yes, after fifteen minutes of talking. The girl you’re looking for followed Caroline out the back door into the parking lot. When I went out there to take some garbage out, they were gone. That was about twenty minutes later.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“She was waiting for her.”
“Come again?”
The bartender clawed at my hand, but I didn’t let him go. “Your girl. She was waiting for Caroline.”
“Why?”
“How the fuck should I know?”
I searched his eyes for a trace of a lie but saw nothing but genuine fear, so I released him—after plucking my two twenty-dollar bills from his front pocket. He staggered back and smoothed out his shirt while the drunkard watched us both with wide eyes.
I held up the
two twenties. “If you hadn’t been such a pain in my ass, I might have let you keep them.”
The bartender rubbed at his neck and I pushed away from the bar.
What the hell was Carrie up to?
On my way out, I handed the drunkard one of the twenties and told him to make it count. He thanked me with a wobbly nod while the bartender glared daggers at my back. I returned the other twenty to my wallet.
Outside, I breathed in the fresh early morning air as the horizon turned a lighter shade of blue.
What was Carrie playing at? Whose loyalty did she hold? Had she been playing me all this time and I’d been too blind to see it because I was thinking with my cock, not my head?
Chapter 18
Carrie
The cigar left me a little nauseated, but I played it off because I had no other choice.
Bates watched me with fierce calculation in his one good eye. His lips folded around his cigar, exposing a row of crooked bottom teeth, and he took rapid puffs one after the other, sending little plumes of smoke up around his bald head.
Eventually, one of us would have to start talking.
I’d done a great deal of study on interviews and how to maintain the upper hand and an edge. Being a woman in a law enforcement role wasn’t easy. Whenever I came face to face with men who thought they were smarter than me, stronger than me, and deserving of a get-out-of-jail-free card, I referenced back to all the things I’d learned about interviews and interrogations.
Sometimes it was best to lean back and let him do the talking.
Other times, I had to seize the opportunity when it presented itself and make sure he knew I could play his little charade, too.
Bates was the latter type of man.
“So are we going to do this, or did I just waste all my time trying to get here?” I asked.
Bates’s eyes narrowed and more smoke passed between his lips.
Behind me, Caroline stood with her arms crossed and shifted her weight to her right side. She sighed heavily, as if this was the most boring conversation she’d ever been privy to.
Her father ignored her. “I want them all. Each and every Devil dead. You hear me, Hart? This isn’t a train ticket out of here you can punch out without getting your hands dirty. I have bullets reserved for each one of those bastards.”
I lifted my chin. “I understand completely.”
The calculations continued in his bright blue eye.
Caroline strode forward. “May I propose we pick a place that this will all go down? Those Devils are always hanging around the construction site of The Well.” She cracked a wicked smile. “We could blow holes through their skulls and burn the bitch down again.”
Bates chuckled. “That’s my girl.”
Caroline puffed up like a proud peacock.
“No,” I said, careful not to speak too quickly and give away my anxiety. “We should lure them somewhere secluded outside of Reno. It has to be somewhere off the radar. The last thing we need so deep into this mess is interference. We can’t afford any variables that aren’t under our control. The Well is too exposed. Besides, you could never get the drop on them there. They’d have higher ground and they’d see you coming half a mile away.”
Bates stroked his chin. “I like the way you think, Hart.”
I could feel the energy shifting as the fountain continued bubbling behind us. He was beginning to believe me.
“I have to think like this,” I said. “Like I said, I want my life back. I can’t risk getting any deeper into all this bullshit than I already am. I’ve always been good at mitigating risk.”
Bates finally tossed his cigar on the cobblestones. “Fair enough. What location do you propose?”
I already had one in mind, but I feigned thoughtfulness and turned to the fountain. I gazed into the bubbling surface where water poured from the open beak of the eagle. It was a peculiar fountain and unlike one I’d ever seen before. Usually, fountains like this had sculptures of beautiful women or peaceful Buddhas. The stone eagle looked terribly unpeaceful with sharp talons poised above the water, as if it were diving toward the surface to catch a fish.
The bird reminded me of Bates.
I turned to Bates. “What about the old landfill? It’s what, five or six miles out of the city limits? That should do. Not too far away for a quick getaway if necessary, but not close enough for someone to wander where they’re not supposed to.”
Caroline piped up. “Plenty of good places to wait in hiding, too.”
I nodded. “It’s perfect.”
“And how do we get all the Devils there?” Bates asked.
Caroline grinned. “Hart can handle that, can’t you, baby?”
I winced. “How am I supposed to do that? They don’t exactly trust me… especially Jackson. He thinks I’m a loose cannon.”
Bates chuckled. “Well, at least the man has some sense. It takes all the fun out of the kill when the prey is a dimwit without a fighting chance.”
My insides squirmed. Bates relished the kill more than he looked forward to running Reno without opposition. If someone had told me two years ago that I’d be standing on a patio with a man like him sharing a cigar and scheming to destroy eight men I was beginning to like, I’d have told them they were an out and out liar.
Bates pointed a finger at me. “You’ll bring all the Devils to the landfill on Friday at midnight.”
“This Friday?” I asked, perhaps a little too sharply.
He nodded. “Yes.”
“They’re going to think the landfill is suspicious,” I said. “How do I throw them off the scent?”
“That’s your problem Hart, not mine. Tell them whatever the fuck you want. You wanted a remote location? You got it. I don’t give a damn what you tell those fuckers so long as they believe you and are there at midnight. You can tell them you’re luring me there. I don’t give a damn. Just make it happen.”
Caroline shifted her weight and smirked. “Think you can handle it, Ranger?”
I lifted my chin. “Yes.”
Bates cracked his knuckles. “Whatever you do, make sure Jackson is in the lead when they roll in.”
Caroline chuckled.
“Consider it done,” I said. “And once the job is done and they’re all dead? How do I get out of there?”
“I’ll be waiting close by in my Rover,” Caroline said. “So long as you keep up your end of the bargain, I’ll pick you up and get you out of there when the slaughter is done. I can take you back here or straight to the airport. I suggest you get the hell out of this city as soon as possible.”
“Airport,” I said.
She nodded.
These fools actually believed me.
A small voice in the back of my head muttered over and over that they were playing me, but my heart knew that wasn’t true. They were in on this. They really thought I was going to betray Jackson and his men. I could tell by how hungry for the kill they both were. They were showing me their whole hand.
This might actually work.
“Walk with me.” Bates turned and made for the house.
I fell into step behind him and Caroline walked languidly behind me, her heels clicking on the cobblestones and the marble floors of the hallway when we moved inside. We passed several rooms before Bates ducked into a study, where he opened a desk drawer and pulled out an old flip phone.
He tossed it to me. “Keep this on. It’s how we’ll communicate.”
I put the phone in my purse. “Is that all?”
Bates walked to the corner of the study, where a liquor cart glittered with crystal carafes full of assortments of liquors. He poured himself something with a dark amber color and swirled it around in his glass. The liquid kissed the edges as it continued to swirl even as he lifted it to his lips. He took a slow sip and let it linger on his tongue while he watched me.
I tried not to let his one-eyed gaze ruffle my feathers.
“You didn’t think it would be that easy, did you, Hart?” B
ates purred.
My stomach hardened into a heavy rock in my belly.
Shit.
I forced myself to smile as naturally as possible. “What about any of this makes you think I expected it to be easy?”
Bates leaned against the window frame beside the liquor cart. The moon had inched out of sight, and the lightening sky concealed most of the stars, save for a handful that winked over his left shoulder against a backdrop of the orange and blue pre-dawn sky. “I’m going to need more than just words from you to believe you’re on our side, Hart. A man of my position can’t afford to take risks, even if he is intrigued by the little package from which the risks come.” His blue eye slid up and down the length of my body and he let out a primal grunt before licking his lips. “A tight little package indeed.”
Caroline huffed and rolled her eyes. “Let’s not get distracted.”
Her father shot her a menacing glare. “Who said anyone was distracted?”
She didn’t say another word.
The question I needed to ask lingered at the tip of my tongue. “What do you need me to do?”
Bates pushed off the window frame. “Clever girl. All I need is some assurance that you’re as good as your word. Surely you can understand why I need to exercise caution, Hart. I want a gesture of good faith from you.”
A gesture of good faith.
I wished I had something to do with my hands. My palms had begun to sweat and I felt fidgety. I wanted to play with my purse straps or pick at the split ends in my hair.
I settled for gnawing so hard on the inside of my cheek that I tasted blood. “Just spit it out. What do you need me to do?”
Bates continued toward me, his shoulders swaying with every step, and stopped when we were only a foot apart. He was a tall man, so he had to lean down so that we were eye level. His lips peeled off his crooked teeth in a sadistic smile that made my skin crawl and the hair on the nape of my neck stand on end.
What have I gotten myself into?
“Miss Hart,” he purred, “I need you to kill the one you’re sleeping with. You do that for me? And I will take you at your word. I will bring my force to that landfill and I will put down every single one of those fucking dogs like the mutts they are. You will be free to get on an airplane, and I will be free to run this city as I fucking see fit. And there is one more condition.”