Ring of Fire (17 page)

A chorus of disbelieving shouts rang out from the reporters. An irascible fellow pushed to the front of the pack and yelled, “Are you telling us, Stryker, that you just happened to be on site when three trucks arrived loaded with amphetamines? And that those trucks were likely coming from Mexico?”

Nate shook his head in mock agreement.

“I don’t know what to say, Clark, except that we must be living right. Let’s just say that for once the score is good guys one hundred, bad guys, zero.”

Nate held up his hand to stop the barrage of questions.

“Look fellows, I’ll answer what I can. This is an ongoing investigation and we are just now putting all the pieces together.”

A dapper looking guy with a Fox News insignia on his jacket pushed to the front.

“Doug Crenshaw, here, Detective. I’m from Fox News. Our sources tell us that the DEA is furious that all of the ‘materials’ were blown up. Can you comment on the feedback you’re receiving from the federal officials?”

“Sure thing, Doug. And welcome to our little burg. Let me put it this way. The Feds— and I say that with the utmost deference—are annoyed. But it’s been my experience they always are.” He grinned at the laughter that greeted his clearly sarcastic remark. “I told ‘em that unless you’re from around here it’s hard to believe how shit gets blown up in Northern Minnesota.”

In the midst of the chorus of laughter and shouted questions, Nate turned to Sam.

“I’m going to turn this over to my partner, Commander Sam Carter. Most of you’ve met Sam and know how lucky we are to have him on sabbatical from the LAPD. Sam and I planned this raid and being as modest as I always am, I gotta say we’re pleased with the outcome.”

Jeb sunk lower in his chair. For the next five minutes he watched the graceful black man field question after question from skeptical newsmen. He had to admit that the asshole was a pro. His fear turned to anger then slowing to gut-clenching rage. Staring at his longtime nemesis, Nate Stryker, standing to the side basking in the attention, Jeb knew when he’d been outfoxed. By his former friend, the man he hated more than life. He also knew that Nate was purposefully showcasing that prick Carter. Jeb was convinced he was doing it to rankle Jeb.

Staring at the two arrogant men, Jeb acknowledged he had his work cut out for him. He held his hand up as though swearing on a Holy Bible, and vowed, as God was his witness, Nate Stryker and his fancy nigger were
not
going to win this battle. No way. He had to placate the Mexicans. That was the first order of business. Then he needed to show Cougar who was boss. There was only one way Nate could have known about the Ely operation. Cougar had told him. And Cougar would pay.

Once those two issues were settled, he’d turn his attention to the Golden Boy and his sidekick. He knew how to handle Stryker. Hit him where he was most vulnerable. Go for the people he cared about. First his nigger. And then his dark-haired cunt.

Chapter 19

Erin heard heavy footsteps tromping up the outside staircase at the same time she heard Nate whistling to the tune of
“Oh Where, Oh Where Has My Little Dog Gone.”
If she wasn’t so angry she would have laughed. He truly was the most outrageous man she’d ever known. She was glad she’d locked the door. At least she had time to prepare herself for the onslaught. She headed for the outdoor patio thinking that she could yell for help if she needed to—or dammit because she wanted to.

Nate knocked on the door and hollered, “Erin, oh Erin? Open the door, little spitfire. Daddy’s home.”

When she didn’t answer, she heard his key in the lock. Even before she saw him she felt his presence. That was the effect he had on her. Shaking off the currents of unbidden excitement flaring in the base of her stomach, she backed into the far corner of the balcony and clung to the railing.

As he came through the living room, Nate stopped whistling and began singing, “
Where Oh Where Has My Woman Gone? Where Oh Where Could She Be?”

Turning the corner to the patio he pulled to a stop in mock surprise. “Ahh. Here she is. Here’s my woman! I’ve been looking all over for my woman. She’s been missing. She wasn’t in my bed, she wasn’t anywhere in our house. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was trying to avoid me.”

Erin did her best not to respond to the gorgeous hunk of a man standing in the doorway grinning at her. She’d watched his press conference amazed but not surprised at how extraordinary he was. His sun-streaked collar-length hair and flashing green eyes were as much a part of his persona as his humor and his cockiness. Even when they were annoyed or trying to get information out of him, it was clear the press corps loved him. And so did she. But she’d warned herself, promised herself, that she wouldn’t cave in when he came to get her—as she knew he would. She had an important point to make and by damn, she was going to make it.

Planting her fists on her hips, Erin glared at him.

“First of all I am
not
your woman. And you don’t need to come any closer. Do you hear me?”

Nate scrubbed at the beard shadow on his chin and frowned.

“Damn, ma’am. My apologies. I could swear that you are my woman. You have the same gorgeous black hair that she does and you’re wearing it the way I like it best. Tumbling down your back in a curly mass. Do you know what I like to do with my woman’s beautiful hair?” He took several steps toward her but stopped when she held up her hand. “I like to wrap it around my hand and use it to pull her stunning face up next to mine.”

Advancing slowly, his voice dropped to a low drawl. “Then I like to expose those sensitive places on her neck to my lips right before I kiss her.”

Erin pressed back against the railing determined not to give in to him, but she couldn’t quiet the shivers of excitement snaking up her spine.

“Hmm, your cheeks just flushed, the same way that my woman does when I tell her what I’m going to do to her sexy body.”

Erin tried to squelch the quivering sensations streaking down her legs.

“Nate, stop it! Stay where you are!”

“Stop what? Don’t come closer to you? Too late. I can smell you, sugar. And I gotta tell you, nothing turns me on like the smell of my woman. She smells like lemon, and mint and kinda musky. You know, sexy.”

His lip quirked up at the corner. “
Especially
between her breasts.”

“Nate, dammit!”

He shook his head and inched closer and sniffed loudly.

“Mmm hmm. You may think you’re not my woman, but, honey, nothing smells as good or as sweet as my woman does. I’d know her fragrance anywhere.”

He hitched up his jeans and grinned. “If you don’t believe me take a look at this! You think any other woman does this to me? Absolutely not.”

Erin glanced down at the bulging arousal that seemed to grow before her eyes. She tried to back up but there was no room. She felt the heat rise in her cheeks. His knowing smile confirmed how flushed she was.

“C’mere, Miss Whoever You Are. I know a surefire test. How about I kiss you? I’ll start out nice and slow, soft little nips at the corner of your mouth. But then I’ll kiss you harder, force your mouth open with my tongue and bite down on your puffy lips. If you start to tremble and begin to make those soft whimpering sounds? That’ll be a dead giveaway. Then I’ll know that my woman, my Erin, is in my arms.”

Erin reached behind herself and gripped the railing. She was determined not to give in to him. She was furious that her wayward body was betraying her. And that he knew it. She wanted to wipe that sexy smirk off his handsome face.

“Stop it now, Nate. You think this is a joke. But it’s not. I’m angry.”

He frowned and nodded, his smile fading. “You’re right, Erin, it’s not a joke. There’s nothing funny about rolling around in our big bed reaching for you and you’re not there. No, honey, there’s not a damn thing that’s amusing about you being here and me being in our house without you. Tell you what we’re going to do. We’re going to rectify that now.”

Seeing his expression harden Erin’s heart sped up. She knew that look only too well. Dammit he was not going to bully her into agreeing with him. Not this time. She started to walk by him intending to go in the other room but he moved in front of her, his eyes narrowing.

She took a deep breath and tossed her head.

“Sorry, Nate. You can glare at me all you want, but I’m staying here tonight. By. Myself.”

The corner of his mouth tipped up and he snorted a laugh. “I see. We have a difference of opinion, Erin. While we can agree to disagree, I will tell you now that you are not staying here tonight and neither am I. Instead, tonight I am going to be holding the woman I love more than anything in the world in my arms.”

Erin swallowed hard and tried to brush by him.

He smiled but his eyes were hard, a stormy sea green. “Tell you what, Erin, we can do this my way
or
we can do it my way. Either way you and I are going to spend tonight together on our boat. Frank is readying it now. While I can’t throw away my fucking phone, anyone who dares to call me in the next twelve hours better be willing to risk certain death if it isn’t an emergency.”

Erin groaned. Damn him. He knew her so well. She loved being out on the lake with him in their boat, and he knew it. Some of their happiest moments were on the Spitfire, the houseboat he’d named for her.

She shook her head, her lips twisting bitterly. “You think you can talk me into anything, don’t you?”

His lip curled. “Yeah, honey, I do. The same way that you can talk me into doing anything you want me to do.”

She couldn’t hide the hurt that was buried deep beneath her anger.

“Except treat me like a professional woman, right, Nate?”

Nate’s expression darkened. He hesitated then reached out and rubbed his thumb across her chin. If she weren’t so defensive, she would have acknowledged the pain in his eyes. When she pulled back, his gaze hardened, making it clear that he was done humoring her.

His voice was curt. “We’ll discuss that later, Erin. Now you need to decide. Are you going to walk out with me and hop into my truck or am I going to truss you up and toss you in the back with the rest of my supplies?”

When she snorted and jumped back, her anger flaring, he laughed.

“On second thought, how about I truss you up now? It’ll save time later.”

Before she could respond, he reached out and grabbed her and tossed her over his shoulder.

“Dammit, Nate. Put me down!”

“Not a chance.” Trundling down the stairs, one hand securely on her butt and the other holding her legs, he nodded to the men standing in the shadows.

“Mort and you too, Alan, you’re free to go. Erin, thank these nice officers who have been making sure that no one gets near you who isn’t me or Connor.”

Erin pounded on his back and shrieked, “Nate! So help me God!”

Nate grinned at the two smiling officers. “Guess I’ll have to thank you guys for her. Erin isn’t feeling real sociable right now.”

The two men chuckled and saluted Nate.

Ignoring Erin’s angry threats, Nate marched over to the truck and deposited her inside. He reached across and snapped the seatbelt over her chest. He shook his head. Damn, if looks were lightning strikes, he’d be a dead man. Her anger was hard to deal with, but it was the hurt, the sense of betrayal in her eyes that hit him the hardest. He sighed as he rounded the truck and climbed in behind the wheel. He snuck a quick glance at the rigid woman next to him and frowned. There were more emotions warring on her face than he wanted to acknowledge.

Damn. He’d thought he had his work cut out for him
last
night. Hell, taking out the biggest meth stash in thirty states was comparative child’s play. Sitting next to him in their truck was a fire-spitting dragon with teeth bared, ready to attack. He comforted himself with the thought that a night with Erin and all that entailed was worth whatever he had to do to erase her anger and her hurt. But he didn’t kid himself. It wouldn’t be easy.

Within minutes they were careening down the highway heading to the Henderson Marina. Nate pulled the truck into his parking space in front of the boat slips and hopped out. A stocky man with a Twins ball cap and a beer belly hanging over low hung shorts, hollered to him.

“Hey! If it isn’t the biggest, baddest puhleese detective in the whole damn state—hell, in the universe.”

The heavyset guy wiped his dirty hands on a filthy rag and grinned at Nate. There was more motor oil on his tattered muscle shirt than in the motor he was repairing.

“Damn, Nate. Good to see you, man.”

He nodded to Erin who’d stayed in the truck. “See you got the prettiest lady in Chicadia Falls with you. You’re a lucky son of a bitch, you know that don’t you, Nate?”

“Yes, Frank, I do.”

Nate clamped his arm around the older man’s stocky shoulders, then moved to open the passenger door for Erin. She brushed his hand aside and clambered down avoiding any contact. She smiled at Frank and murmured a greeting then headed for the boat dock, her slender shoulders set in a unyielding line.

When the swarthy man quirked a questioning brow, Nate shrugged and murmured, “Women.”

Frank slapped him on the back. He lowered his voice and winked. “Hell, Nate. You can’t live with ‘em and you can’t live without ‘em. Good to know even hotshots like you occasionally have woman trouble. But son, that woman would be worth any amount of trouble.”

Nate sighed. “Wise words, my friend. And yes, you’re right. She is.”

Nate reached in the back of the truck, grabbed for the large duffle, and hefted it up onto his shoulder.

Frank walked alongside him, his glowing expression confirming his admiration for the most famous man in their town.

“Saw you on the TV today, Nate. Everyone is talking about it. That was some raid you pulled off. Damn, Nate, gotta be after some real bad guys if you’re dealing with that much of the crystal poison. You watch out for yourself, you hear?” He nodded to Erin who was standing quietly a short distance from the two men. “And make sure you keep that little lady next to you. Anyone wanting to hurt you will go to her first.”