Texas Hold 'Em (5 page)

Even in the heat of the moment, she’d realized the AR-15 looked different. The nasty- looking rifle had had a stainless steel barrel with some unreadable etchings, not to mention the fact that it had been modified to be a fully automatic weapon.

“You know as well as I do once those guns are in circulation, anyone can get them.”

“I’d bet next month’s salary that Ortega sent those two guys to that trailer park,” Santos insisted. “I’ve told you already I have it on good authority that he’s nearby, and that hasn’t changed.”

“And I’ve told you about Juan Enrique. King is following that lead, and we need to give him some time. Enrique could be behind those guys tonight, too.” Frustration deepened her frown. “He’s from here, and he knows the area well. There are plenty of locals who would do anything he asked of them. He may seem like a small fish to you, but he’s run a gang in Rio County ever since he was a teenager.”

“So why strike now? I’m telling you this is SOP when El Brujo wants to move into a new territory. Neutralize the local law enforcement—by bribery or violence—then do the same with the friendlies. Pretty soon, he’s the one in charge.”

“So that’s your theory on why I’m not dead?”

“It’s simple,” he explained. “If you were gone, someone else would take your place. He’d rather manipulate the situation as it stands now than start fresh with someone who might be worse than you. It’s easier to deal with a known than an unknown. If that doesn’t work, then he’ll kill you.”

Raising both his hands, Santos put them on her shoulders, and that’s when she realized she’d been wrong—the fabric
wasn’t
thick enough to keep her immune to his touch. His grip was as hard as his eyes. A shiver of alarm washed over her.

“And if I don’t back down?” she asked to distract herself.

“He’ll get you sooner or later—it’s inevitable. One night you’ll just disappear. They’ll grab you and torture you just for the helluva it, then he’ll kill everyone who’s left. Silas, a friend, maybe even your deputy. He’d kill your dog if you had one.” His expression turned so grim it frightened her. “He likes to chop off heads with machetes. I’ve seen it firsthand, Rose. This isn’t just a career choice for these guys—they
enjoy
this kind of crap. If you don’t believe me there’s a mass grave just the other side of the border I’ll show you if you have the stomach for it. There were twenty young girls in it—beautiful young girls. According to my sources, Ortega rounded them up to sell them in the sex trade, but his buyer decided he wanted redheads instead of brunettes. Instead of having their hair dyed, Ortega killed them and kidnapped twenty different girls.”

A horror so thick she could taste it welled up inside her.

“If you don’t help me,” Santos said, “you’re risking your own life—and the life of everyone who’s close to you.”

Chapter Six

Santos climbed on his Harley and headed back for the ranch. His mind spun as fast as his tires as he thundered down the highway. If he couldn’t get Rose to help him, and soon, they were all going to be in more trouble than he knew how to handle. And that was saying a helluva lot.

His phone began to chirp as he unlocked the door of the ranch house and walked inside. Austin Wills answered his hello. “Can you talk?”

The agent had gone across the border to check out a serious card game, hoping he could pick up some info at the same time. He spoke in Spanish, and Santos answered in kind. “Fire away.”

“Bad choice of words.”

“You might be right, especially considering what happened early this morning.”

“I heard. You okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“What about Rose?”

He and Rose had had a small circle of friends when they’d been together. Austin had been in it. He hadn’t told Rose the agent was in Smokin’ ACES to protect her, but also to maintain their cover as long as possible. “Bumps and bruises. Nothing close to what Nasty gave me the other night.”

“She probably would have handled him better than you did.”

Santos grinned, the moment of levity sorely needed. “You want something specific, Wills, or did you just call to bust my balls?”

“Both,” the agent replied. “I’ve given you the hard time, so now here’s the rest. I just found out Dos y Tres is having that chapter meet tomorrow night, then they’re heading for the roadhouse. You in?”

They’d been trying to get a meeting with the Dos y Tres bikers for weeks. They did protection runs for Ortega when he had a lot of cash to transport. Hooking up with them, even just to party, would put ACES one step closer to their goal. “Have we been invited?”

“More or less. Bentley’s after this slick little blonde who rides with them, and she implied we’d be welcome—or at least he would be.”

“Sounds good to me as long as Nasty and his gang won’t be there.”

“Don’t worry about him, buddy. I’m sure you’ll win next time.” Santos heard a quick inhalation. “They’re coming. I gotta go.”

The phone went dead. He hoped no one else ended up that way, too.

…

The minute Santos had left, Rose phoned the station and asked King for an update. He gave her advice instead, telling her to stay home and take it easy. She told him to mind his own business and tell her what was happening. She shouldn’t have bothered to call. They’d learned nothing about the weapons or the dead man.

Hanging up, she took another two aspirin, then gingerly pulled on a clean uniform and tried to make herself presentable.

Ten minutes later, with a fresh cup of coffee in the cup holder and a piece of toast in her mouth, she pulled into the station’s parking lot.

Lydia looked up as Rose walked in. “What are you doing here? I thought you went home to rest.”

“I don’t need to rest. I need to find out who was shooting at me.”

“King has got everyone in the county out looking, but he’s had no luck. Go home,” she begged.

“Info back on the dead guy’s fingerprints?”

Lydia looked at her with resignation. “Surely you aren’t serious to ask me a question like that?”

Rio County was so far down the totem pole they normally didn’t get that kind of information out of headquarters for days. “How about the autopsy? Do we know when it’s scheduled?”

The nearest medical examiner’s office was in Lubbock County. It was an all day affair just to get the body transported. Getting results from there was an even bigger nightmare than the fingerprint situation.

“We have a little problem there.”

“You mean worse than usual?”

Lydia cut her eyes toward her computer panel, avoiding her gaze. “A state trooper took the body so they can do the autopsy in Austin. You know how they are—they think they can do it better than anyone around here. ME said they would copy us on the report—whenever it was done.”

She might never see that paperwork. The idea something like that might happen hadn’t even crossed her mind, but should have. How could she have been oblivious to Santos’s connections in Austin?

“Have you gone to the clinic yet?” Lydia asked.

“I’ve got too much to do. And I’m fine anyway.”

“Then at least call your grandfather. He’s phoned me three times because he’s too stubborn to call you directly.”

“I’ll do it as soon as I can.”

Three hours passed before she could call her grandfather’s number. In the meantime, Santos’s words continued to rattle around inside her head.

They like chopping off heads with machetes. You’re risking your own life and everyone’s close to you.

Her grandfather answered on the first ring. The sound made her want to climb into his lap and cry like she had when she’d been a child and skinned her knee. But a kiss and a hug weren’t going to help this time.

“I take it you’re alive,” he drawled.

“Sore, but okay.”

“I hear one of the other guys is not doing too good.”

“He’s dead and forgotten.” Frustration bubbled up inside her. “The troopers carried him off.”

“Good. They’ll do the autopsy faster, and you’ll find out more.”

“Not likely. I’ve contacted Austin, and they’re already giving me the run around.”

“You’re not letting your personal problems with Santos get in the way, are you?”

“There is nothing personal between us, so there are no problems to get in anyone’s way.”

“Santos told me the whole story. He just left a few minutes ago.”

“He what?” she sputtered. “I can’t believe— He actually went to your place?”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist. It’s not the first time he’s been out here.”

She thought back to the previous conversation she’d had with Silas. She should have realized what was going on. “Did you two old women talk about me behind my back?”

Her jibe was ignored. “He still loves you.”

She couldn’t speak. Her throat actually seemed to close, and her lips refused to move. “No. No, no, and
hell
no. That’s crazy talk. Santos and I are over. Way over.” She took a breath. “Did he say that? That he loved me?”

“He didn’t have to say it.”

She felt a perverse tick of disappointment. “So you read his mind?”

“It’s plain as the nose on your face, girlie.” His voice turned deeper and more strident. “It’s your duty to help him find your mother, Rose. I don’t like this anymore than you do, but Santos’s story is good. Not iron-tight, but good.”

“I don’t trust him.”

She could hear Silas’s old yellow lab snuffle as if he agreed with her. The sound hung in the air for a second, then her grandfather spoke quietly. “Why would he lie to you, Rose?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“So? People lie to get what they want. Sometimes in our business, it’s the only way.”

When she didn’t answer, he spoke again. “What would be the point of coming to Rio if he wasn’t sure Gloria could help?”

She still didn’t have an answer.

“You took an oath, Rose. You have an obligation to uphold the law.”

Obligation. Duty. Oath.

His words stayed with her the rest of the day.

…

Tugging off his cowboy hat but leaving on his head wrap, Santos entered Aqua Frio’s only café that evening and headed for the booth his agents had commandeered. The scent of onions and cumin made his mouth water despite the dagger-like stares being thrown his way. The diners lining the counter and sitting at the scattered tables didn’t welcome him or the others, and Santos understood. He had felt the same way about bikers once upon a time. But not all the ones he’d met in the past few months were like Nasty. Their chapters were their family, and they were fiercely loyal. Plenty of them rode in charity rides when they couldn’t afford the gas, and he’d even been to a church service just for bikers. They loved God, their country, and their friends, and they made sure everyone knew it.

Just like any other faction in the world, there were good ones and bad ones.

He slid into the booth as the waitress approached the table. She wasn’t the typical weary woman he was accustomed to seeing in places like this, and he’d eaten in quite a few of them. This girl was young and pretty, and her smile was artless as she looked down at them.

“I’m April. What can I get you gentlemen?” She nodded toward Jessica. “And lady?”

“Got any recommendations?” Bentley asked with a grin.

“Yeah,” she deadpanned. “The restaurant one block over.”

Austin chuckled, and she smiled, her blue eyes crinkling. “Actually the tacos are pretty good.”

“Tacos it is, then,” he said as they all nodded. “And if you have it, a round of cold beer for my friends.”

“We might run out of tacos, but we never run out of beer.”

She retreated to the swinging doors at the end of the bar, and they began to talk over the last few days, stopping to joke with the waitress when she brought their drinks. The conversation ended abruptly when King Landry pushed inside the eatery.

Santos groaned. The deputy wore a frown, and it was coming their way. If the locals had ears that could swivel, they would have pointed them toward their booth.

King stopped in front of them and let his gaze swipe over the agents, but his stare landed on Santos and stayed. Putting his palms on the table, he leaned forward. “You ought to be in jail,” he said softly.

“Probably so,” he drawled. “But not because of what happened earlier.”

“If I’d been taking your statement, you’d be behind the bars right now.”

He understood the man’s hostility. The deputy clearly felt Rose was being threatened in some way. If Santos had been in King’s boots, he might be even worse, especially if he was halfway in love with her, which King struck him as being. Every man who had ever known Rose, for one reason or another had wanted to protect her. And that was the last thing she wanted. Or needed.

“Yeah, well, you’re not the sheriff. And I’ve answered all the questions from the person who is. It was an accident, after all.”

“I’m not so sure.”

“Well, that’s too bad. Because she’s the one in charge.”

“True, but I was the one driving the truck you followed all the way out there.” King’s voice dropped. “Why don’t you tell me what that was all about? And while you’re at it, you can tell me how you knew what was happening to begin with.”

Saving him from coming up with another lie, the waitress approached with a loaded tray. “Hey, King, watch out! Coming through, coming through.”

She lowered it to a nearby stand, forcing the deputy to step back, the sizzling plates full of tacos and beans with generous scoops of guacamole on the side. She grabbed a round plastic container and set it on the table first, the steam of the flour tortillas inside seeping out of its lid. She handed out the food, glancing toward the uniformed man. “Have a seat, Deputy, and I’ll bring you the same.”

“I’ll buy you a beer to go with it.” Santos held out his half-empty bottle, the tension palpable between the two men. “I was just about to have another one.”

“I won’t be staying.”

His curt answer raised a puzzled look from the waitress, who retreated without another word. King swung a look at the other agents. “Stay out of trouble,” he warned, “Or stay out of town. Preferably both.” Turning on his booted heel, he strode out the door.

Jess watched him leave as she picked up her fork. “Great line,” she said with a straight expression. “I wonder how long he practiced it in front of the mirror.”

The others chuckled and began to eat. Santos did the same, only he didn’t taste the food. He understood King Landry’s attitude just as he understood that of the other diners. There was more to King’s attitude than concern, though, and Santos couldn’t stop himself from recalling the way the deputy had held the station door open for Rose that night and guided her inside, his hand on her back.

When the waitress returned with another round of beer, she paused beside the table and tilted her head toward the empty plates, her drawl pure Texan. “I guess all y’all didn’t like the tacos?”

She lingered as they laughed, her expression open and friendly. “What brings you guys to Aqua Frio? You visiting folks in town?”

“My mom’s nearby,” Austin answered. “Down the road a bit. I told everybody we oughta stop here and get something to eat before we went the rest of the way. She’s not much of a cook.”

“My mama’s the best cook in the world,” the waitress gushed. “I think she should open a place and give this dive some competition.” She lifted her head as the door opened, the bell announcing an arrival for the second time since they’d come in. An even bigger smile came over her young features. “Sheriff Rose! Cool to see you. How ’bout your usual?”

“I’m not staying, April. I just came in to speak to your customers, here. They parked down the road in a tow-away zone.”

April raised an eyebrow and cut her gaze back to Santos’s face. “You’re mighty popular with the law enforcement crowd today.”

“Somehow, I’m not surprised,” he murmured.

The girl left for the kitchen as Rose closed the distance between them. Pouring through the diner’s windows, the western sun painted her hair with shimmering gold highlights catching his eye. The uniform she wore didn’t take anything away from her appearance, despite its goal to do that very thing.

She stopped at the edge of the table. Her smile wasn’t real. He’d seen the real one before, and this wasn’t it.

“Evenin’, Miz Deputy,” Santos drawled. “Wanna meet my friends?”

“I’d love to.”

He draped an arm over the back of the booth and pointed to each agent, giving Rose their undercover names. She acknowledged each one with a nod of her head, including Austin.

“You guys enjoying your supper?”

They nodded.

“That’s real good.” Her friendly attitude disappeared. “Because you’re going to pay your bill and leave right now to move your motorcycles. Otherwise, they’re gonna get towed.”

She shot a glance toward the rest of the patrons, and Santos followed her gaze, understanding immediately.

“Cut us some slack, Sheriff,” he said loudly. “We’re just getting something to eat then we’re outta here.”