Hell or High Water (5 page)

The passenger-side door opened and Tyrell slid in, passing over a sack containing coffee and two breakfast sandwiches.
 

“Figured you needed a shot of caffeine.”

“You were right. I’m not sure whether to drink this or dump it and piss in the cup.” Nate settled for taking a long gulp. Lukewarm or not, the jolt of energy was welcome.
 

“Spare me the sight. Quiet night?”

“Yep. You expected different?” Nate unwrapped a sandwich.
 

“I don’t know what I expected.” Tyrell glanced around the parking lot as if still worried.

“You talk with her this morning?”

“No, I called Holly. She lives a couple of doors down. They hang together most of the time. Holly can handle herself and is taking weekend duty. She’ll make sure Kay is safe.”

So Tyrell and Little Mama wouldn’t be spending Saturday night together. A whisper of guilt hit Nate. No way would Tyrell mess with her. It was against the man code.
 

“Is this Holly a cop?”

“No. But she’s a better shot than both of us. After she got her license to carry a concealed weapon, I drove her and Kay to the firing range for practice a few times.”

Nate’s gut rolled into a tight ball. A few trips to the practice range didn’t mean this Holly could protect Kaycie from the bastards who’d tried to snatch her. He couldn’t cover her twenty-four hours a day. Tyrell would have to step up, but they’d need more manpower.

“Where’s Marcus Ricci? Last news I have on him was after his stint in the Marines, he’d bought a place on some lake here in Texas.”

“He shouldn’t be hard to find. Want me to hunt him up?” Tyrell patted his cell.

 
“I’ll do it. Maybe he’s available.”

“Nate, you heard his wife was killed by a drunk driver while he was deployed.”

“Yeah.” Marcus’s loss sat heavy in the pit of Nate’s stomach. “Had to be tough. He was crazy in love with her.”

“Yeah. I just wanted you to be aware. He don’t discuss the accident or her.”

“Might be good for him to have a project.” Nate could imagine Marcus withdrawing from life. “Between the three of us we can cover Kaycie.”

“Don’t discount Holly. She comes across a little far out there, but she’s tough.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“FYI, it’s Kay now. She stopped using Kaycie years ago.”

A piece of useless information. She’d never be Kay to Nate. “Call my cell if you need me. I’ll be in my office most of today.”

“You hung a shingle?” Tyrell’s head bobbed with a look of approval.
 

“No sign. You’re my first civilian case. But there’s definitely a threat to her safety. We need to assess the situation and decide how we’ll protect her.”
 

Tyrell stepped out of the pickup, looking back over his shoulder. “All pro bono. Right?”
 

“For now.” Nate waited for Tyrell to leave, but when he cocked his head and flashed a buttload of white teeth, Nate braced for a wiseass remark. “Something else?”

Tyrell stroked the soul patch on his chin. “Just one thing. You didn’t ask me for Kay’s address, so how come you knew where she lived?”

“Mind your own business.” Nate started his pickup and dropped it in gear, forcing his old friend to step back. “Since we’re getting personal, what’s ‘Little Mama’ to you?” He’d made no effort to hide the ice in his tone.

“If you’re asking if we’re doing the nasty, my answer is ... what do you care?”
 

“I don’t.” Nate clamped his teeth together to hold back the spew of cuss words boiling up from his gut.

“Which is why you already knew where she lives.” Tyrell chuckled and then paused on the way to his car. He glanced over his shoulder and called out, “We’re friends.”

Nate was grateful when Tyrell slid behind the wheel of his car and closed the door. A few more seconds listening to that chuckle and Nate would’ve popped a vein. Tyrell’s vehicle roared to life, and he followed Nate out of the parking lot. They parted ways at the apartment complex exit. Nate’s old friend turned south while Nate hit the freeway headed the opposite direction. He was edgy. The unknown threat was always the most dangerous. He tamped down the panic edging toward the surface.
 

Nate parked in front of the small office space he’d rented in Richardson, a Dallas suburb. He opened the truck door and stepped out, freeing himself from the confines of his pickup.
 

“Damn,” he muttered when his joints cracked and popped as he stretched his torso. The rapid round of fire shooting through his knee got the blood flowing to his brain.
 

He locked the door behind him, dropped the AC to sixty degrees, and then fired up the motel-size coffeepot.
 

Note to self, next time rent an office closer to a coffeehouse.

The small front lobby with an office to the side was perfect for his needs. If this place had a shower, he’d live here. Eventually, if he decided to do more than government contract work, he’d pick a name as Tyrell suggested and hang a sign out front. For now, he was content the private detective business was up and running.
 

After the incident in the morgue parking lot, he’d driven the Harley to his office and parked it inside. Leaving it outside unprotected wasn’t an option. When he wasn’t riding the Hog, he’d prop his laptop on the handlebars and use the bike for a desk chair. He’d buy more furniture one of these days.

He used the bathroom, splashed water on his face, poured a coffee, and then slung his leg over the bike. When his computer booted up, he dug out the information Tyrell had given him and ran a search on Hank Walsh. Kaycie probably had intel, but Nate didn’t figure she’d be open to sharing with him. Didn’t matter. He preferred to do his own fact-finding. Know your enemy better than your friends. Safer that way. He’d research the dead girl’s family next.
 

For thirty bucks, Nate had subscribed to a service that allowed him to access the details of nearly anybody’s life. It required nothing more than a few keystrokes. The Walsh name provided him with tons of financial facts. Hank’s dad, being a transportation and logistics mogul, drew plenty of media attention. On the board of two major charities, a library, and a children’s hospital, Anthony Walsh’s wealth could buy a lot of silence. Kaycie was convinced the girl had been murdered. The old man had probably spoiled his kid to the point he believed himself to be above the law.

 
Hank’s background read like a rap sheet. In and out of drug rehab, traffic tickets for DUI, kicked out of college for cheating. His current employment showed to be Walsh FasTrak Transportation, a division of Walsh Enterprise, Inc.
 

Works for Daddy. Imagine that.
 

The kicker was his current probation. He’d pled out on an attempted sexual assault charge three years ago, trading jail time for a healthy fine and five years probation. Anthony Walsh’s baby boy would have the rest of his sentence tacked on if found guilty of rape within the next two years.

However, if found guilty of murder, Hank would hang around on death row for years while his appeals ran their course, but the state would eventually give the victim’s family closure—via lethal injection. Seemed like a waste of time and money to Nate. Thirty-eight cents for a bullet was cheaper and quicker. Any man who’d hurt a woman didn’t deserve more.
 

If Nate proved Hank had hurt Kaycie, the state might not have to pay for a trial.

Next, he read up on Leann Vaughn and her family. A hard-nosed Baptist preacher, Harold had spoken to all manner of media after his daughter’s disappearance. No keeping her name a secret, her picture had been on every newspaper and TV in the state. Leann’s mother stood next to her father in every picture, clinging to his arm. Eyes sunk back in her head and lips turned downward, Patricia Vaughn appeared to be on her last leg.
 

With all his research, Nate saw nothing to indicate Hank Walsh was anything more than a sleaze-bag rapist. Human trafficking or murder would be a hard rap to hang on him.
 

A dead girl. Two attempts to kidnap Kaycie. Hell, none of it made sense. If she had learned too much, why snatch her? Why not just kill her too? One well-placed shot and their problem would be solved.
 

Nate turned his attention to locating Marcus. Finding his phone number didn’t take long. Always the quiet one of the group, Marcus hadn’t changed in that regard. He wasn’t forthcoming with his personal information, but he readily agreed to help out. Through the entire call, he didn’t mention his dead wife and neither did Nate.

Nate rubbed sleep-deprived eyes with the heels of his hands. He hadn’t planned on looking up Kaycie. The past was better left dead. Those days were gone, just as he would be when the next job came in. Until then, he was her bodyguard.

He saved everything he’d found on the Walsh family and the Vaughn case to a flash drive. Having second thoughts, he made hard copies then tossed the lot into an old leather briefcase.

He dragged his tired ass out to his pickup. He’d driven away from Kaycie’s apartment worried. Now it had blossomed to full-blown concern for her life. He drove away with a gnawing foreboding in his gut.

Chapter 6

Most of Kay’s neighbors had left for work, leaving the parking lot with only a few cars. So why, standing under the morning sun, did she feel like a bug under a microscope? If she whirled around, would somebody be right behind her?
 

She dropped her hand to her hip. The Glock 22 riding there gave her a measure of comfort.
 

She hurried to catch up with Holly, who waited next to her car. Holly wore blue slacks with a matching blouse. Red parrots dangled from her neck and ears. Her blond hair, tied in a ponytail, sported a red streak coordinated to match the birds. Kay glanced down at her gray slacks, ivory short-sleeve blouse and lightweight black linen blazer. The word drab came to mind. Her only jewelry, the Saint Jude medallion, rested hidden above her breasts.

“I’m not sure we should go to this funeral,” Holly protested.
 

“I have to. Stop making me feel guilty for dragging you along with me.”
 

“Like Tyrell said, where you go, I go.”
 

“And I appreciate you. Really. But you shouldn’t have to be my private taxi. After the funeral, I need to stop by the police station. I’ll call Tomas. Ask if he can drive me.”

Holly dug her car keys out of her ten-gallon purse and shook them at Kay. “Get in.”

Kay almost laughed at her friend, because secretly Holly was probably getting a kick out of being the boss. “Tyrell should call you Little Mama, not me.”
 

“Thanks, but I’d rather he called me to bed.”

Normally, Kay would’ve laughed at the innocent blue eyes behind such a sexual innuendo. Would she ever find anything funny again?
 

“If you want him, do something about it.”

“No need to get pissy. You want us to fall in love. I’m only interested in his body.”

“I’m sorry. It’s none of my business. I should never meddle in affairs of the heart.” Kay didn’t want to argue. Romance seemed like a really inappropriate topic today.

Her skin prickled suddenly. No doubt about it this time. Somebody’s eyes were trained on her, giving her the weird sensation of being naked. Kay did another visual sweep of the parking lot. Nothing. Damn. Between Tyrell and Holly, Kay was jumping at shadows.
 

She’d reassessed her situation over the weekend. Admittedly, she’d been careless at the morgue. Since then, she’d been on high alert.

Kay had barely buckled her seat belt when her cell buzzed. Einstein’s picture on the tiny screen smiled up at her.
 

“Hey, Papa. I hoped I’d hear from you today.”

“Morning, Kaycie. You visit your folks this weekend?” His tone gave no hint of his ruling on Leann’s death.
 

“I didn’t. Ran out of time.” She hated to lie to him. She didn’t tell him about almost being kidnapped in the morgue parking lot. He would only worry himself sick.

“I think if you’d make the first move, your dad will come around.”

He wanted the riff repaired between Kay and her dad, Papa’s son. It was one she didn’t know how to fix short of bringing her twin brother, Kevin, back to life. This conversation was repetitive and futile.
 

“Apparently, you worked too.” She moved off the subject. “The body was released yesterday afternoon. Her funeral’s at ten this morning.”
 

“You were in a hurry for answers. I got everything I needed from the girl. Saw no need to make the family wait.”

She leaned back in the seat. The quickening of her heartbeat thumped under the medallion while she waited for the news.
 

He continued, “Preliminary lab results confirmed your young woman had traces of ketamine in her system. Not something she’d be given by her doctor and not a drug we’d normally have tested for. I wouldn’t have looked if you hadn’t doubted that she’d committed suicide. Therefore, my ruling is homicide.”