by Angi Morgan
The guys would slap him on the back and might ask a question or two. He’d proven himself to Company B. He belonged there. They already knew he had their backs and was willing to put himself at risk.
But did Therese? Did she know?
More important, would she still trust him or think he’d been lying?
Just say it, man!
“This is probably going to sound funny.” Therese laced her fingers through his. “I heard if you want a sure way to tell which horse will win the race, you should watch them before they’re saddled. Then bet on the last one that went pee.”
“Where the hell did you hear that crock?” He laughed.
She laughed. “My dentist. It’s exactly what he does.”
“And it works?”
“He swears by it.”
“In my experience there’s only one sure way that a horse wins.” He patted the bag of money. “Bribery.”
Chapter Twelve
Not many people gave them a second look as they walked between the buildings housing the horses, jockeys and owners. Therese looked everywhere, taking it in, still hyperaware that Sal could be around any corner. Sal or the police. Getting arrested would blow everything.
She also watched Wade. He didn’t seem sick and didn’t act like getting punched in the gut hours ago had anything to do with what had happened in the parking lot. Honestly, it seemed like he’d seen a ghost.
She wasn’t used to seeing strong men like him stumble. One minute he stood tall and the next he was practically on the ground.
“Any idea where to find this guy we’re supposed to pay off?” she whispered.
Wade pointed to a stall where an older cowboy tightened a buckle on a saddle.
“Are you sure? He looks too...tall.” Wade arched both of his brows, waiting for her to explain. So she continued in a whisper, “I thought we’d be paying off the jockey like the instructions say.”
“We’d be caught faster than any of these horses can run. The jockeys are watched a lot closer than the stable hands. We slip this guy the money, then he’ll slip a jigger into the race.”
“I have no idea what you just said.” He tried to step around her, but she moved in front of him. She needed an answer. “He’s also not the man Rushdan wants us to contact. Why not just do things his way?”
“A jigger is kind of like a small cattle prod they use to get extra speed at the last minute.” His confidence looked to be back. “This is something I know, Therese. Trust me.”
Wade took a step forward again, but she latched on to his arm to stop him. Trust him? Everything she’d sacrificed clawed its way to the surface from somewhere deep down where it had been buried for years.
Fear. Apprehension. Doubt. Especially doubt...
The self-assured character she presented to the world shrank back, giving way to the lonely undercover agent. The real her sat alone way too often, questioning every move she made.
What in the world was wrong with her? She’d never hesitated as much as in the past twenty-four hours.
“Oh sssugar!”
Yeah, she’d said it loud enough for everyone around them to hear. She got a confused expression from Wade and had startled the man he’d been watching. The stall cleaner’s face changed from surprise to recognition when he concentrated on Wade.
“Well, I’ll be a horse’s patootie. As I live and breathe. Is that you, Wade? You’ve kind of filled out.” He carefully tipped the pitchfork behind him and spread his arms wide.
“It has been fifteen years, Joey. I remember you as older.” Wade walked into the old man’s embrace.
“True. Every word, true.”
Therese watched in silence and wonder. Wade Hamilton had a past. A real one with...regular people. People who matched the sealed files Rushdan had discovered. The Rangers hadn’t built this background. It was real. Wade Hamilton had a sealed juvie record. The fact sort of stunned her. No wonder he’d laughed so hard when she’d said they’d known each other.
“Who’s your friend?” Joey asked as the two men separated.
“This is Therese.”
She stepped forward to shake his hand but he held it up to stop her.
“Mind your step, Miss Therese. Maybe I should come your direction.”
Therese mumbled a “nice to meet you” and stayed put just inside the stall’s entrance. But as Joey took a step, her new partner reached in front of him, grabbing the pitchfork.
“We should stand over here, out of sight.” He quickly moved the horse poo to the far wall, making room for them.
There was a story there. Some bond between the two men that she really wanted to understand. It was a story for another time. Joey was more than just Wade’s friend. But her curiosity would have to wait.
“You in trouble again?”
“No, sir, but I have a favor that might bring some your way.”
“I heard you’d gotten out of the game, gone straight, were making something of yourself.”
There was suddenly a great deal of tension charging the musky air. She sensed Wade respected the older man and wanted to be straight with him. His jaw muscles visibly flexed. But he knew they couldn’t. It would put everything at risk...including Joey.
Someone out there had an algorithm that could potentially harm thousands. The organizers they’d caught from the domestic terrorist group Public Exposure had promised a catastrophe would happen in Dallas. That specific threat had been thwarted by capturing the group’s FBI contact six weeks ago. Only a copy of the program had been found...not the original or the person who had developed it.
The programmer put the algorithm on the market again. Rushdan Reval was facilitating a new sale to the highest bidder. He claimed this version was more destructive than the original.
If Wade couldn’t guarantee a win for one of these races Rushdan wouldn’t get the cash he needed to proceed. Or he wouldn’t have the leverage he wanted to include Wade in the plan.
Then they’d be back to square one.
“I wish I could explain, sir.”
The older man shook his head.
“It’s a matter of life and death.” She heard the words fly from her lips.
Joey’s eyes grew big and round in his weathered face. He shifted from foot to foot, clearly conflicted about lending aid.
She moved closer and took Joey’s hand between hers. “Wade says you’re the one who can help, I know you can. You probably think I’m exaggerating. I mean, life and death, who even says that? You have absolutely no reason to trust me. Please help us.”
God, she hoped he would.
They needed a break.
“I suppose that’s a lot of cash in that bag,” Joey said.
Wade nodded.
“I hate to ask—”
“To tell the truth I had high hopes for you, son. I thought that lawman straightened you out. I’ve been on a narrow path of redemption for a while myself.”
“This is a bad idea,” Wade said flatly.
“I won’t tell you the thought hasn’t crossed my mind once or twice. Make a killin’ and retire on some island paradise. I wouldn’t go up against the real mobsters out here. Look at what happened to your old man.”
“You’re right. It’s too dangerous,” Wade said. “I don’t know what I was thinking. Forget it.”
Therese watched the genuine emotion on both men’s faces. The admiration, then sadness in Wade’s eyes. The disappointment in Joey’s. She wanted to jump in and tell Joey about the good man Wade had become.
Had she been worried about Wade’s ability to keep their objective secret? He was about to let this man think the worst possible things about him.
She pressed herself into the stable wall covering her mouth with her hand. It was the only way she could keep herself from blurting out the real reason they were there.
“Well, I can’t rightly do that,” Joey pushed his hat off his forehead and smiled. “Thankfully, no one will be expecting me to rig anything.”
He walked to the stall door and stuck his head out, looking both directions.
“You’ll help us?” she asked, surprised by the man’s agreement.
“Rightly so, little lady. I should have helped this boy when he was twelve and didn’t. No way am I standing around like a wallflower again.” He shut the door behind him as he spoke, enclosing them in the tight space. He sniffed a little—not at the smell but wiped away the sign of a tear—before cupping Wade’s shoulder in a manly acknowledgment.
Joey claimed to be an upstanding citizen, but he knew exactly which jockey or horse owner was open to accepting a bribe. In a few short sentences he laid it all out for Wade. It was a shorthand she couldn’t completely follow, but something Wade had no problem deciphering.
After accepting a couple of stacks of the cash to bribe the jockey, Joey pushed them both out of the stall.
“I’ll send note when everything’s set. You know it’ll be best if I disappear for a while ’til things are cleared up.”
“Take this,” Wade said trying to give Joey another stack of cash.
“No thanks. Favors don’t come with price tags. Come back around when all the dust settles. Don’t be a stranger.” He patted them both on the back before he swaggered bowlegged past the other open stalls.
Wade took her hand in his and led them in the opposite direction.
“That’s it?”
“Yeah. Well, we still have to place some bets. And I know right where to find the people we need.”
“I bet you do.” She had a long stride, but she practically ran to keep up with Wade. “You weren’t kidding when you said you’ve done this before. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you have real-life experience as a gambler. You have the lingo down perfect. No wonder they established your background so quickly.”
Was that what Rushdan had been hinting at? Did Wade have some sort of juvie record? Joey had spoken of letting Wade down when he was twelve.
“Therese, if we had more time I’d explain. But we don’t.”
“I know. I know. I’ll have to trust you.”
Her words didn’t get any reaction. They reached a corner close to where the crowds clamored around and he dropped the bag on her shoulder.
“Stay back where those two hallways meet, out of the line of cameras. I’ll be sending several people to you. They’ll all say I did. You give them a couple of grand each.”
“Tell me one thing that’s personal—and relevant—and I promise not to bombard you with questions of how this is possibly going to work.”
She swore his eyes rolled as he tipped his white felt hat to the crown of his head.
“One thing.” He held up his index finger before leaning in close next to her ear. “It’s true. My father was a gambler and con artist. He was in jail several years and I put him there when I was fifteen.”
He pivoted and hurried away before she could draw breath to whisper, “Wow.”
The bundles of cash weren’t in stacks of thousands, so she darted into the closest family restroom and locked the door. She counted quickly, not allowing herself to think about a fifteen-year-old Wade turning his father in to the police.
Of course she thought about it. But she got the money ready and took her place to wait. Several minutes passed before the first person stood next to her against the wall and said, “Wade sent me.”
Nine men and women stopped next to her and inconspicuously flattened their palm to collect the money just out of view of the cameras monitoring everything. She gave it to them without questions or even direct eye contact.
“Well, lookie here.” Sal stepped from around the corner. “You’re finally showing up and you still got the money? What the hell are you playing at? You’re going to get us both killed.”
He reached for the almost empty bag but she twisted the strap around her wrist. If he pulled at it, he’d make a scene.
“We’ve got it under control.” Her calm, confident voice didn’t reflect her jumping insides. She tried to see past Sal but he blocked her view of the main area where Wade and the people he’d been sending were located.
Sal turned quickly, pinning her to the wall, his finger poking deep into the fleshy part of her shoulder.
“I’ve never understood why the boss keeps you around. You ain’t smarter than any of the rest of us. Just remember that this cop’s severed head rests on your shoulders. Totally your fault when he disappears.”
She let him poke her. Let him push her back into the wall until her bare skin pinched. Let him get in her face without loosening her grip on the bag. She stood firm, raising her chin a little more defiantly while staring into his watery, sad eyes and smelling his bad breath.
Whatever doubt had been tugging at her brain had fled. She was once again in the moment and remembering that she had done this job alone for a very long time. Wade might have the upper hand on fixing a horse race but she could navigate Rushdan’s men.
An arm dropped across Sal’s shoulders. He immediately stepped back but he couldn’t free himself from Wade’s embrace.
“Funny seeing you here, Sal. Checking up on us?”
Sal ducked his head, slipping from Wade’s grip. “Man, you don’t know who you’re messin’ with!”
“Calm down, Sal.” Wade shifted his weight, draping his arm around her shoulders. “Babe, this is my buddy, Dale Beauchamp. He’ll be taking that bag off our hands. Don’t worry. He also placed our bet for us.”
She didn’t want to give Sal any reason to report to Rushdan that something was wrong. She swallowed her nerves—the ones that increased her breathing each time Wade stood next to her.
The strap of the bag slid off her shoulder and into the hands of a good-looking man about the same build and age as Wade. If he was from her partner’s time here as a child she couldn’t tell. More likely he was another part of the rangers’ plan that she didn’t know.
Dale eased the bag from her, holding the handle as he smiled and winked. “See you ’round, Hamilton.”
Sal took a step in the same direction. Just one step before Wade slammed his palm into his chest, stopping him cold.
“You should hang around for the fun, Sal. Winning big calls for a celebration.”
“You better win big, Hamilton. The boss expects his investment to mature. Keep the phone. Someone will be in touch.” Sal walked away, obviously searching for the direction Dale Beauchamp had gone with the cash before lifting his hand to hide his face from the cameras.
Therese couldn’t believe so much had happened in such a short time. Whatever respect she’d held for the Texas Rangers before, it didn’t compare to how high she held them now.
They worked fast. About as fast as she was falling for the strong man beside her.
Chapter Thirteen
Wade saw the security guard passing to Sal’s right. He remembered the old familiar rush, felt the adrenaline surge through him again.
“Well, that was easy,” Therese said, heading toward the track.
Wade stood there a moment, tamping down the shakiness in his arms and legs. He snapped a picture of Dale walking away, fingers gripped around the bag handle. No one was taking the rest of the money from that Texas Ranger.
How many times had Wade been the handoff, receiving his father’s payoff. Or more accurately the winnings of whatever group his dad was fronting for. Wade should make certain Therese understood the truth. He’d confessed haphazardly. He made this operation seem easy because it was second nature to him.
Still. Even after all this time.
Calling upon that cocky kid who carried around thousands of dollars, afraid of nothing, had been too easy.
“Wade? Are you coming? Do we get to watc
h which horse wins? I mean...we are here.” Therese asked.
“Sure.”
She waited until he stood beside her again. Lacing her fingers through his, she smiled at him as they headed through the crowd, back to the track’s rail. They looked like any other couple betting a few bucks on a few horse races. He didn’t have to work at keeping her close to his side. He wanted her there.
Dammit. Why had he allowed being here to hit him so hard? He’d controlled the emotions associated with this part of his life for years.
For a couple of panicked minutes he’d actually become that lost fifteen-year-old kid. But he didn’t care about the old man who’d taught him to steal and cheat. He didn’t. Terrence hadn’t been a father to him.
Fred Snell was the only real man who had taken on that role.
Therese tugged on his arm. “Are you feeling sick again? You’re looking sort of sick.”
He shook his head, dropping his hand on top of hers, gathering warmth for his icy fingers. “I’m good.”
“This is so exciting. Even if I know one jockey is—” she dropped her voice so only he could hear through the crowd noise “—you know, going to do whatever to win.”
They stood through a couple of races. Each time his sequined companion would turn her face to his and he’d ask her who she’d thought would win. She actually chose one who placed, but not the winner. Then it was time. She asked. He nodded.
Therese didn’t need to know specific details. Didn’t need to know that the one wearing purple dot silks would send a shock through his horse at the last minute to make it run faster.
The crowd was happy and unworried, waiting for the start of the race as the horses lined up in the gate. The boards reflected great—but not too great—odds for Texas T.
The gates opened and hooves pounded the ground, dirt flew and muscles rippled through the beautiful horseflesh of each mount. Memories of other races rushed through his mind, keeping him silent. Back then he hadn’t wanted to draw attention to himself.
Authorities questioned the race when they’d seen him or his father or his father’s cronies. It was one of the reasons he’d been so active in delivering money and messages when he was younger, smaller. Then overnight he’d grown tall enough to be spotted.