Chapter Twenty-One
Carly awoke Monday morning beneath a dark cloud of dread. A nightmare that included a knife-wielding El Jefe had jolted her awake sometime after midnight with a scream locked in her throat. Linc had drawn her into his arms and held her, put her back to sleep with some of his magnificent lovemaking.
Today she had a meeting with the FBI. Tomorrow she was supposed to pick up El Jefe’s shipment of God-only-knew-what. She had no idea how either of those things was going to turn out.
Tired and out of sorts, she wandered into the kitchen to the smell of frying bacon, found Linc cooking breakfast for Zach. Ignoring a shot of guilt that she hadn’t gotten up earlier and done the cooking herself, she gave Linc a grateful smile. “Smells great,” she said.
He smiled back. “I hope you’re hungry.”
As soon as the eggs were scrambled, the three of them sat down around the dark oak breakfast table and dug into the delicious eggs accompanied by bacon, juice, toast, and coffee, and a big glass of milk for Zach.
“You’re a really good cook, Linc,” the boy said. Carly wondered if he had any idea how few people were privileged to call Lincoln Cain by his first name.
“Thanks, Zach. Breakfast is about all I’ve got. Pizza is my go-to food for supper.”
“I love pizza,” Zach said. Whatever had been going on between Linc and Zach this morning, the boy seemed a lot less tense.
The hearty food and cheerful conversation bolstered her spirits and a thread of optimism surfaced. She could handle this. So a little boy needed her help. If Joe were alive he would take care of Zach. Carly could do the same.
She took a sip of coffee, savored the rich dark flavor of freshly ground beans, eased into a change of subject.
“Linc and I have to go into Dallas for a couple of hours today, Zach. It’s no big deal, just some business that can’t wait.” She hated to leave when he needed her support so badly, but there wasn’t any choice.
The boy’s head swiveled toward her. Sunlight streaming in through the window turned his wheat-blond hair to silver. “You have to leave?”
There wasn’t a scrap left on his plate or a drop of milk in his glass. She wondered if he was storing up in case he needed to run again. The thought sent a pang into her heart.
“We won’t be gone long,” Linc told him. “We’ll be back this afternoon. You’ll be safe here till we get home.”
Carly managed to smile. “I’ve got a friend coming over to keep you company. Brittany’s an elementary school teacher so she knows lots of kids your age.”
Zach sat up straighter in his chair, his chin jutting out. “I don’t need a babysitter.”
Linc casually sipped his coffee. “You’re right. A kid who could make it from Austin to Iron Springs on his own can clearly take care of himself. We just didn’t want you to get lonely. Britt’s going to take you swimming. That is, if you know how to swim.”
Swimming hadn’t been part of the plan, but the excitement in Zach’s face said it was a fine idea.
“I’m a good swimmer,” Zach said. “I learned in summer school.” His expression turned wary. “I didn’t see any pool.”
“Linc has a big pool up at the main house,” Carly said. “You and Britt can swim up there.”
The boy’s blue eyes rounded. He turned to Linc. “That big house is yours? I thought it belonged to someone else.”
“It’s mine. I use it for entertaining, but I prefer to stay here.”
Zach looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “Could I go inside sometime? I’ve never seen a house so big.”
“You can go in with Britt,” Linc said. “You’ll find swimsuits in the cabana. There’s bound to be something close to your size. There are towels and soft drinks so you won’t need to take anything with you.”
“What’s a cabana?”
“It’s a place to get out of the sun,” Linc explained. “It has toilets and showers, pool toys, air mattresses, stuff like that.”
“Wow.”
Linc started smiling. He looked at Carly. “I’d forgotten what it was like to be a kid.”
“You and Britt are going to have a great time,” Carly said, suddenly wishing she could join them. “I’d better call her. She’ll probably want to bring her own swimsuit.”
She had already filled her friend in on the basics, told her about Zach and his abusive father, shared some of what was happening with El Jefe, revealed as much as she dared. Britt and Row were her two best friends. She trusted them completely and she desperately needed their support.
Twenty minutes later, they drove up to the main house to meet Brittany, who looked pretty in a soft pink ruffled top and a pair of khaki crop pants, her long dark hair pulled into a ponytail. A bright orange canvas beach bag dangled from her fingers.
“Zach, this is my good friend, Brittany Haworth. Britt, this is my cousin, Zach Archer.”
Around children, Britt wasn’t shy. “Hey, Zach. Nice to meet you. The kids at school call me Miss Haworth, but you can call me Britt, okay?”
He just nodded.
“I hear we get to go swimming.” Britt flashed him a wide smile. “I love to swim. How about you?”
Zach gazed down at the toe of his worn sneaker. Britt was really pretty and suddenly it was Zach who was shy. “I gotta find a swimsuit out in the cabana.”
“Okay, we can do that.”
“Zach wants to see the house,” Linc said. “Mrs. Delinski, my housekeeper, is expecting you. She can show you around before you go out to the pool.”
“Perfect,” Britt said, and Zach beamed.
And they would be safe. Frank Marino would be at the house, keeping an eye out for trouble, along with the guards at the gate and the armed men patrolling the property. If Ray Archer showed up, he would find himself on his way back to jail.
“You ready, Zach?” Brittany asked.
Zach’s gaze shot to the big stone mansion. He was up on the balls of his feet, practically jumping up and down. “I’m ready. Let’s go!” The boy dashed toward the front door, so excited he forgot all about their leaving.
Carly could only imagine the expression on the ten-year-old’s face when he got a look at the sweeping double staircases and massive crystal chandelier.
“I haven’t gone swimming in ages,” she said wistfully. “It really sounds like fun.”
“Yes, it does.” His gaze swept over the dark blue skinny jeans, navy blazer, and white lace blouse she was wearing for her meeting with the FBI. As if she wore only a skimpy bikini, the gold in his eyes gleamed. “We’ll take a nice private swim the first chance we get.”
A private swim? Carly’s stomach floated up. The image of Linc in a swimsuit made her pulse race. “Okay,” she said a little breathlessly.
From the ranch, the chopper made a stop at the truck yard so Carly could get Rowena settled in for her first day. She told Row about Zach showing up just as she’d left yesterday, about his dad being responsible for the vandalism at Joe’s house, and warned there was a possibility Ray Archer might show up at the yard.
“He’s a wanted man, Row,” Linc said. “Don’t take any chances.”
“You can bet I won’t. I’ve handled my share of crazies out at the roadhouse. I’ll be okay.”
“There are always truckers around,” Carly said. “Tell the men to keep an eye out for him.”
“Okay, I will.”
Carly waved good-bye to Row and they left the office. She didn’t mention the FBI or the latest threat from El Jefe. There was only so much a normal person could take.
* * *
At eleven in the morning, before the lunch crowd started to arrive, the Tex-Mex Café wasn’t too busy. Linc escorted Carly inside and guided her between the tables to one of the booths at the rear where FBI Agent Quinn Taggart sat bent over his iPad.
Taggart glanced up as Linc approached, didn’t quite mask his surprise that the friend Linc had mentioned was a woman.
“Have a seat,” Quinn said, but didn’t stand up. The less attention they drew the better.
“Special Agent Quinn Taggart, meet Carly Drake,” Linc said as they sat down. “She owns Drake Trucking—that’s the company with the problem we discussed.”
Assessing hazel eyes swung toward Carly and lit with interest. Linc had met Taggart a few years back when Quinn had been investigating a string of murders in the Dallas area, one of which involved a female employee at Tex/Am Transport.
Linc liked the way Taggart had handled the investigation and Quinn had appreciated the access Linc had given him to company records. The FBI man was smart and capable and more than passably attractive. Fortunately he was happily married with a couple of kids.
“Linc and I discussed your situation in a very general way,” Quinn said to Carly, “but we didn’t talk specifics. I’m glad you decided to come forward.”
“I’m hoping you can help me, Agent Taggart.”
Linc cast her a glance. Carly still didn’t understand that they were in this together. The way Taggart was looking the two of them over, Linc had a feeling Quinn understood exactly what was going on.
A gray-haired waitress arrived to refill Quinn’s coffee cup. “You having lunch or breakfast?” the broad-hipped woman asked Linc.
“Just coffee.” He turned over the heavy china mug in front of him and Carly did the same. The older woman filled both cups and sauntered away, bringing them back to the conversation.
“Why don’t you start from the beginning?” Taggart suggested. “Then we’ll go forward from there.”
For the next few minutes, Carly explained the situation with El Jefe, beginning with the murder of Miguel Hernandez, the money that had been embezzled from Drake Trucking to force her grandfather into joining the man’s criminal activities, her run-in with the drug lord’s men, and meeting the man himself.
“Unfortunately I was blindfolded. I have no idea what he looks like, except he has big feet and he’s a little pigeon-toed.”
Taggart sighed. “You’re not alone. No one seems to know who he is, or if they do, they’re afraid to get involved.”
“I would probably recognize some of his men.”
Taggart nodded. “That would be useful. We can have you look at mug shots on your computer. We don’t want to bring you in to headquarters because we don’t want anyone to know you’re working with us.”
“Hold it,” Linc said. “She’s not working with you. She’s giving you information. We need you to arrest this guy and put him out of business.”
“That’s exactly what we’re trying to do. But we won’t be able to do it without Carly’s help.”
“What kind of help are you talking about?” Carly asked.
Taggart eyed her shrewdly. “You’ve filled me in on what’s been happening, but I have a feeling you’re leaving something out.” Which was true, since neither of them had mentioned the load Drake Trucking was supposed to pick up and deliver on Tuesday night.
“Before this goes any further,” Quinn continued, “I need you to tell me what brought you here today. Last week, Linc was very circumspect about how much he told me. Today both of you are here. Obviously something has changed. If you want the help of the FBI, I need to know what that something is.”
Carly looked at Linc, clearly uncertain.
“We need your help, Quinn,” Linc said. “But before we tell you anything more, we need to know exactly what you expect in return.”
Quinn’s focus centered on Carly. “You’ve actually met this guy who calls himself El Jefe—the boss. Under the right circumstances, he might want to meet with you again. If that happens, we’d have the chance to go in and arrest him. Until that point, we need you to play along, do exactly what he tells you. In the meantime, we’ll be putting a case together. There’s a chance you’ll even be able to provide us with evidence. In exchange for your help, we’ll provide you with protection.”
“No.” The single word had both their heads snapping toward him. “She’s not getting near that bastard again.”
Quinn looked at him with a trace of pity. “She needs to do this, Linc. Whatever threats this guy has made, he isn’t afraid to carry them out. Carly’s best bet is to help us catch him before he kills her or someone else.”
Silence settled over the table. There had to be another way, a plan that would keep Carly out of danger.
“Drake is supposed to pick up a load for El Jefe on Tuesday night,” Carly said, and Linc softly cursed. “I have no idea what’s going to be in it. The text I received said they would text us the pickup location. I’m guessing they’ll tell us where to take the load once we get the cargo loaded.”
Quinn’s satisfied smile made Linc’s jaw feel tight. He didn’t want her involved with this. For the first time, he questioned whether he should have brought her here.
“Now we’re getting somewhere,” Taggart said.
“What do you want me to do?” Carly asked.
“No way is the guy going to be there,” Linc interrupted before Taggart could reply. “If the FBI shows up, it’ll be a minor bust that’ll get you nowhere and Carly will become a target.”
“I’m not suggesting that.” Taggart turned back to Carly. “I want your truck to pick up and deliver the load just as you’re instructed. From now on, you’ll do whatever it takes to win El Jefe’s trust. Once that happens, you’ll be able to set up a meet and that’s when we’ll step in.”
“Who do you suggest makes the pickup?” Linc asked. “The last driver who butted heads with El Jefe wound up dead.”
“We’ll supply the driver. He can take over after the truck leaves the yard.”
“Too risky,” Linc said. “What if someone’s watching? What if one of El Jefe’s men sees the driver exchange?”
“I’ll drive the truck,” Carly said.
Linc felt a cold stab of fear. “No way. That isn’t happening. It’s too dangerous. I won’t have it.”
Carly bristled. “It isn’t your decision, Linc.”
“Take it easy, both of you,” Taggart said. “We’ll figure it out. Maybe we can put an agent undercover as a driver, someone who’s presumably on your payroll. If anyone’s watching the yard, they’ll see an employee driving the truck in and out, smooth and easy, no problem.”
“He’d be someone new,” Linc said. “A new guy doing the first pickup might arouse suspicion.”
“If I can make it happen, he’ll be a new hire starting today,” Quinn said. “A new hire shouldn’t necessarily be suspicious, right? In a company that size, employees change every once in a while.”
Carly looked at Linc. “It could work. At least we’d have a plan.”
It was a plan. But his instincts were screaming it wasn’t a good one. Unfortunately at the moment, he didn’t have a better idea.
“All right. I just hope to Christ the guy you send actually knows how to drive an eighteen-wheeler.”