Chance Collision (8 page)

“You know it, boss. Lucas will help out, too.”

Chief snorted. “He wouldn’t stay home if I fired him.” But there was no malice in his tone, just pride. Not that Cole’s ego needed a boost, but their boss often bragged about his former FBI agent detective.

“Probably not.” Pete laughed.

“Call the county and see if you can get someone from the Sheriff’s Office to sit on the Circle Bar B. These guys are going to make a move on the husband. Whether he wants the help or not, we’re gonna keep him alive.”

“I know a chief deputy over there, I’ll see what I can do. Also, I can see if either Dawson or Lucas knows anyone in the Marshal’s Service. Maybe we can talk about WitSec.”

Shaking his head, the chief took another breath. “I don’t think he’d agree to witness protection even if the wife dies. But it’s not a bad idea. I’ll talk to Barnes if she graces me with a call.”

Pete nodded. He wouldn’t doubt it if Cole’s former supervisor gave their boss a call. She still ran the Human Trafficking Unit that was after Alberto Carbone’s ex-boss.

According to the news, they’d been making some headway over the last few months. Enough to make national headlines anyway. Was that the clincher that’d made Caselli move against the gangster-turned-rancher after all this time?

Comparing notes with Dawson wasn’t going to be a bad idea, for sure.

Knowing Lee, the FBI agent would fly in, rent a car at the airport and pop into the station without so much as a phone call.
Well, hope she’s quick about it, then.

“Take Nikki to the house on Montgomery. It’s the biggest and nicest of what we’ve got. Check on Mrs Jenkins, too.”

“Ten-four.” He stood, nodding and making a mental checklist of what he needed to get done. Things were about to get complicated now that Nikki would have to be a tag-along.

“Seriously, Crane.”

Pete paused, one hand on the doorknob.

“If you touch her inappropriately, or one hair on her head is harmed by anyone or
anything
, your ass—your badge—is mine.”

He threw a smile over his shoulder, but his gut tightened at the warning in Chief’s tone. A hard promise, the likes of which Pete had never heard from the man before. “You worry too much, boss.”

Besides, he agreed.
Nikki’s not for you.

The reinforcement should help. No—
would
help. He’d keep his hands to himself and his cock in his pants.

After slipping out of the office, he closed the door silently.

When Pete turned around, he met a pair of very brown eyes.

* * * *

Luca cursed and wrenched the wheel of the piece-of-shit Ford to the right, avoiding the parked car by mere inches as he scanned the parking lot. Where the
fuck
was Mickey?

Caselli’s idiot nephew had taken off on his own when Luca had been stupid enough to give in to fatigue and get a few hours of shut-eye. He’d awoken in the crappy motel room alone—and pissed off.

“Fuck.”

Shaking his head, Luca clutched the butt of his Beretta with his free hand. His knuckles smarted but he didn’t loosen his grip. When he found the bastard, he
was
going to kill him. No matter what his fucking boss said.

Sometimes Caselli could be a pussy. Was he afraid of a little bloodshed? The boss had been hacked that Luca had disposed of the local meth head—the driver who’d got them away from the rehab centre. Luca had saved the man ten thousand dollars. Couldn’t Caselli be happy about that? His boss was a cheap-ass most of the time, after all.

The points Luca had hoped to score with a job well done had not only dissipated, but he’d had to endure a tongue-lashing that would have been a beating if he’d been in the same room as Caselli.

And the smirk on Mickey’s puss when he’d overheard part of the conversation had sealed his fucking fate. The little bastard wasn’t going to make a fool out of Luca.

“Fuck Mickey. Fuck Caselli,” Luca muttered. “I know what I’m doing.”

Doubt didn’t even enter his mind. But he needed to head out to Berto’s ranch and finish the job. Show his boss he
could
perform.

The news had reported that the nurse was alive—his boss was pissed about that, too.

Well, she could have a mishap in the hospital. Luca would deal with that as soon as he’d found his
co-worker.

Could Mickey have got it into his head to go to the hospital and finish off Berto’s whore?
No way.
Caselli’s nephew wasn’t that smart. Besides, Luca had kept that part of his boss’s phone rant to himself.

If he couldn’t find Mickey, he’d just handle things then deal with him later. And he
would
find him.
Would
deal with him. Until Mickey bled.

The fight they’d had the night before shot into his memory and Luca gritted his teeth. Mickey was convinced they needed to silence all witnesses.

“The old woman saw us. So did the redheaded chick.”

“So what?” Luca had snapped.

“
Saw
us. As in will-tell-the-police what we look like.” Mickey had crossed his arms at that point, shaking his head until his shaggy hair shifted on his shoulders.

What Luca hadn’t admitted was that their boss had ordered them to leave the women alone as well. Agreeing—even a little bit—made his blood boil. They didn’t want the exposure more bodies would bring. Not that he minded the killing. On the contrary, that was his favourite part. Seeing the life fade out of someone’s eyes—that got his cock hard. It didn’t matter. He’d do the Berto job and finish off the whore. Then hit the road. Go home to New York within a few days. Who the fuck cared who saw them? They wouldn’t be in Texas long enough for it to signify. Like small-town cops crossed the country after guys they couldn’t identify.

Luca should have known better to assume the argument was over. Mickey wouldn’t just let things go. The bastard thought he could act behind Luca’s back.

“That fucker,” he muttered, glancing at the faded green numbers on the clock in the crappy Taurus. “I don’t have time for this shit.”

The Circle Bar B was at least forty-five minutes away. Luca needed to scope the place and make a plan to rid the world of Alberto Carbone. Maybe explosives would be fun. It’d been a long time since he’d blown something up.

By the time he’d hit the highway to head southwest, Luca was plotting all sorts of creative ways to dispose of Berto—and Mickey. Could he do it at the same time? A twofer? Perhaps he could wait to kill his boss’s turncoat. He could find Mickey and bring him back out to the ranch. Tell the idiot he needed help with the job. Tie them together in the barn? Set it on fire?

Luca chuckled.

Whatever he decided, it’d be good. Hitting the road to go home alone wouldn’t be so bad. He’d worry about how to explain being sans Mickey to Caselli later. Accidents happened, after all.
Oooops.
Luca grinned and patted his gun.

Then again, he hadn’t told Mickey their two witnesses were off limits. Caselli didn’t need to know that. Luca wouldn’t be able to help killing Mickey if the guy disobeyed his uncle, could he?

When he turned down the county road towards the Circle Bar B, a pothole the size of Texas threatened to swallow the car he’d boosted.

Shit, he should have stolen a truck. The rough road jarred him until his teeth rattled. It was going to give him a damn backache. Not to mention, he was rather out of place in the low-to-the-ground sedan. The few vehicles he’d passed were all pickups of varying sizes.

Luca drove by the huge iron gate with the ranch’s name and logo shaped in an arch over a paved driveway, then circled back around. His instincts flared and he hunkered down in the bucket seat. Following the speed limit was a must. He couldn’t be conspicuous.

The house was sprawling and sat about half a mile back from the roadway. The property was edged by a combination of decorative iron fencing as well as the more practical stuff to keep horses and cattle contained.

“Why the hell does Berto want all this shit?” Luca frowned. Drugs and women were easy money. Fuck the hard work that came with the crap in front of him.

Scanning the roadway as well as the vast property, he inched the car closer. Could he get away with turning down the road? There was no one around.

Woods edged both sides of the roadway just beyond the fencing that belonged to the Circle Bar B. A small clearing marked a dirt road formed by large tyre tracks. It seemed to curve around into Berto’s land. There wasn’t a gate he could see. Was it a back entrance or something? Was there a place for him to park and watch?

The glint of a shiny reflection had Luca swinging his head around. His gut clenched and a string of curses fell from his lips. The steering wheel bit into his palms, his knuckles smarting as the silver cruiser made a slow turn down the main entrance of Berto’s ranch. He didn’t catch the name of the county, but the car boasted
Sheriff’s Office
under a star-shaped seal on the door.

“Fuck me.”

More fucking cops?

From the rear view, Luca watched the Dodge Charger stop at the gate and hit what looked to be an intercom. He couldn’t slow or stop without being noticed, so he hit the gas and exercised his vocabulary some more.

If Caselli didn’t want him to kill witnesses, he certainly wouldn’t want collateral damage in the form of dead cops. Even if it would be fun as hell.

“Son of a bitch.”

Things just got complicated.

Chapter Nine

“What’s wrong with him?” Nikki asked.

The damn door had prevented her from hearing anything but deep voices as her boss and Pete had talked.

Getting kicked out of Chief’s office was new. If she was the subject of the conversation, she had a right to know everything.

Pete cleared his throat. “Nothing. He wants to make sure you’re protected.”

“Right.” She narrowed her eyes, but suddenly her detective wouldn’t look at her. Considering he hadn’t been able to
stop
just moments before, Nikki didn’t buy what he was trying to sell for a second.

“Let’s go. I don’t want to be gone long. Besides the safe house, the PD is about the best place for you to be. So let’s get what you need and get back here. I don’t like the idea of being unsecure.”

Nikki frowned. “So I’m stuck with you, left to your every whim? I
am
an adult, you know.”

That green gaze burned her. “You’re stuck with me all right. But your safety’s not exactly a whim, darlin’.”

Trying to glare failed, and she couldn’t help but melt a little. Pete’s use of Gram’s familiar endearment was like a caress. Not at all like when her grandmother said it. A tremor shot down her spine. She swallowed and took a step back when she really wanted to wrap her arms around him. “What about Gram?” Her voice shook and she cursed.

“She’s gonna be fine. Like Chief said, she’ll always have an officer with her.”

“No. I mean, I need to see her. Every day.”

Pete frowned and Nikki glared.

“It’s non-negotiable, Detective. I see my grandmother daily.”

“We’ll see what we can do.”

“No.” Nikki shook her head. “No. Way. This is not going to mess with my life.”

“Nikki—”

Cursing him to hell and back, she whirled away and stalked to her desk. “I’m not going to be a victim to this…situation.”

Pete’s sigh sounded in her ear. He was behind her, he’d followed closely, but she couldn’t look at him. Ignored the feel of his body heat at her back.

Attraction or not, kiss or not, he wasn’t going to get away with ordering her around.

“That’s what I’m trying to avoid,” he said.

“I’m being punished.”

“Keeping you safe is not a punishment.” The conviction in his voice made her glance at Pete, but she refused to get taken in by the concern in his expression.

“So, what, I’m supposed to follow you around until this is over?” Nikki snapped.

“No.”

“No?”

“I’m supposed to follow
you
around.” One corner of his inviting mouth lifted and she tried to glare again. She couldn’t, but Nikki refused to let it go. He couldn’t cover this up with humour.

“Aren’t you, I dunno, supposed to
solve
the case?”

“I will.” Pete cocked his head to one side. “Don’t worry about me, I can multitask.”

Nikki snorted. “So what am I supposed to do? Sit on my ass?”

Pete’s eyes raked her frame and she ignored how her body warmed. “Or you can be my junior detective.” He winked.

She bit her lip to keep from giving in to a smile. Damn Detective Pete Crane and his charm. “How about you do what you need to and
I
worry about me?”

He shook his head. “Not in the cards.”

The ringing of a cell phone put the brakes on Nikki’s retort.

“Crane,” Pete said as soon as the iPhone was against his ear. He listened. “Shit.” His eyes rested on her for only a moment before he turned his back, but Nikki wasn’t having it.

She slipped around him, standing close enough to hear a male voice on the other end of the phone.

“…been dead no more than a day. Raleigh Carter’s here. He found him. He’s insisting on speaking to you. In person.”

Jared Manning. Detective Cole Lucas’ partner. Why was he calling Pete? And…dead? Who was dead?

Her heart sped up and she clenched her jaw, forcing her hands to remain at her sides and not on Pete. Touching him would have made her feel better.

“Yeah, yeah. He always pulls that crap. He won’t even talk to Andi when he’s got some info.” Disgust dripped from Pete’s voice. He threw a look in Nikki’s direction but didn’t gesture for her to move away. No doubt he knew she could hear his conversation.

“Can you come out here?” Jared’s tone mirrored Pete’s.

“Is he high?”

“Nope. He was supposed to meet Billy so they could party. Ended up finding him dead instead. That’s about all he’ll tell me. But he swears he’ll open up to you.”

“Son of a bitch.” Pete dragged his hand through his fair hair.

“Tell me about it. Neil’s on his way.”

“Did you call the ME’s office yet?”

“Yup. Max is headed this way.”

“Good. Assistant to the Medical Examiner himself. We need someone who knows what they’re doing.” Pete frowned as Nikki heard the
click
of the call being ended. He shoved his phone into his jeans and met her eyes. “Change of plans.”