Fight By The Team (Team Fear Book 2) (10 page)

“These kind of toys are their own reason.”

Fowler leaned his back against the closed door. “You can take guns and ammo off the list. I got it covered.”

Ryder scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “We’re not talking about a hunting rifle and a few rounds.”

“As I said, I’ve got it covered. More than. Going into a gun shop requires a background check, and we don’t know if any one of us would pass. Plus, it would alert anyone looking for us. Where we’re going, there’s plenty to go around. Trust me.”

Debi sat next to Lauren on the bed. “What did I miss?”

“We’re going to a safe house?” Lauren’s voice wavered with uncertainty as she attempted to keep up with the briefing.

Ryder nodded at Lauren’s questioning glance. “We’re headed to somewhere we can set up a base camp. Craft and Rose are headed for supplies.”

“What kind of supplies? Because I need my lab equipment.”

“Put anything you need on the list,” Rose offered.

“The supplies I need aren’t available at the local supermarket.”

“Where do we get it?” Because no fucking way was she going back into the open.

“You don’t. I do,” Debi insisted.

“Oh, hell no.” The hardheaded woman was still recovering. Warning explosions went off in his gut. “The last time did not go well. You are not mission critical.”

The group disintegrated into verbal chaos. Finally, Ryder whistled and the noise lowered. “Lab equipment is mission critical. Knowing what the fuck was done to us is mission critical.”

“You got that right, brother.” Craft’s eyes sparked. “I want to destroy the fucker who did this.”

“Tear him limb from limb,” Fowler agreed. “The Army did this shit, but there was a person, a living, breathing responsible party. That’s who I want to see hang.”

Rose thought about seeing Captain Johnson on campus, but bit his tongue. The women had been too involved in the process, and Johnson was one of their own. They would take care of him or die trying.

“I want them as much as anyone.” Ryder nodded in agreement with the rest of the men. “We need to test the blood from Echo and the water bottles from the night they dosed me, which means a science geek.” The look he sent Debi was as close to an apology as Ryder got. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Debi assured him.

“If we had the fucking Army at our back, we could handle this in-house, but we don’t. We can’t.” Ryder gave Rose a hard glance. “We need experts, so like it or not—”

“Not,” Rose voted. He didn’t want Debi anywhere near their mission.

“Duly noted. Debi’s going with you.”

“Looks like you’re on babysitting duty,” Fowler mocked.

Shit
.

R
ose’s phone
rang like a radio contest help line. Six times he ignored it. The seventh time, Debi wanted to brain him. The instant Ryder had ordered Rose to take her along, he had gone silent. Not a word the entire time. She sat on the bench seat between the two big men and she may as well have been an ornament for all they acknowledged her. They stopped at Dr. Branson’s office for her follow-up and to replenish medical supplies before loading Craft’s computer gear in the back. It was afternoon by the time they headed to the bar to pick up her lab equipment, supplies, and research notes. The number of books she had in storage was unimaginable. And absolutely necessary.

When the phone rang yet again, Debi gave up playing nice. “Your girlfriend is persistent.”

“Not a girlfriend.” Rose hit the ignore button. “Sister.”

“Have you considered it might be an emergency?”

“No. Crap.” He pulled the phone out of his pocket, but it had already gone to voicemail.

Debi watched as he typed a short text.

What
?

One-word texts marked the end of civilization. “Which sister?”

“Camy.”

“Camy is short for... Camellia?”

He nodded.

Geez, was a single syllable answer too much to ask? She turned her attention to Craft. “He has six sisters, all named after flowers.” And then she realized— “Do you know Rose’s first name?”

“No.” Craft grinned down at her. “But it’s got to be something girly with a last name like Rose.”

“Flowery is what I think.”

“Maybe not. Could be something like pine cone or Kentucky blue grass.”

“Lotus Blossom.” Debi warmed to the subject, but Rose didn’t react. They tested a few radical theories without a single muscle twitch or eye roll. The man had silence down to an art.

He pointed to a building on the corner a block away. “Pull into the bank, there.”

“Easy to trace,” Craft warned. “Pulling money out of the bank is a time and date stamp. Location.”

“Which shows where we were, not where we’re going. And where we’re going, we can’t use cards. Cash is a necessity we’ll need soon. Best to get it before we go underground.”

“Roger that.” Craft pulled into a parking space and rammed the gear into park. “Can I trust you with my baby while I get cash?” he asked Debi. The wink and teasing grin seemed as natural to the man as fighting.

“Your baby? Would that be the truck or your computers?”

“Yes,” he answered with a sarcastic grin.

“Go on,” Debi offered. “I’ll guard both with my life.”

“Don’t even joke about it.” Rose pulled his wallet out of his pocket and grabbed a red and gold ATM card. “Lock the doors. One of us will have eyes on you at all times.”

“Relax, Rosebud. It’s an ATM, not Fort Knox. I’m sure it’s fine.”

Still, he waited for her to hit the lock button before he stepped up to the machine. The phone he’d set in the drink holder slot started ringing as he slid his card in the machine. Debi looked between the phone and his massive back. Craft gave her a questioning look, but she shrugged him away. She was one itchy palm away from answering the phone when the ringing went silent. Rose was tucking money into his wallet when he came back to the truck.

“She tried again,” Debi told him.

He lifted to shove his wallet into a back pocket. “She’ll give up, sooner or later.”

“And what if it is an emergency?”

Rose shook his head. “Unlikely. This is Camy’s M.O.”

Craft returned to the truck and put the gear into reverse. “Where to?”

She gave him an address.

“The bar?” Rose asked. “Not the ranch?”

Keeping the supplies and her notes at the ranch was a risk. “Not after the fire last year.”

“The one that Barry set?”

“Yeah, that one.” At the time, she figured he had wanted to destroy her research. “I had a lab setup in the barn. Nothing fancy, but someplace I could work in peace. I miss it.” Like a runaway child. “Anyway, I moved the equipment and my records to the bar. No way is he destroying the evidence that he stole my work.”

“Why didn’t you show your father the proof?”

“Pride.” A part of her still hurt, no matter what her brain dictated. “He didn’t give me a chance. We haven’t spoken face-to-face since the day he kicked me out of the program.”

Craft parked on the street in front of the bar. “Sounds like a real winner.”

“Yeah, my life is filled with them.” Truer words had never been spoken. Rose slid out of the truck and held the door open for her. She glanced back at Craft. “You coming?”

“Staying on guard duty. Do you have much?”

The men were either very good at their job or paranoid as hell. “Couple of boxes. I’m sure Rose and I can handle it.” Debi led the way into the bar without checking to see if Rose was behind her, because she felt him at her back. The hair on the back of her neck stood at attention around the solid soldier.

At the bar, Frank stood a few hairs shy of six feet and three hundred pounds. A pronounced tire lapped over his belt, but he was faster than he looked and scared the bejesus out of anyone foolish enough to start a fight. She waved as she moved past.

“Hey,” he hollered at her. “Where you been?”

“Not here.”

“I got that.” He pushed his bulk through the narrow opening and followed her to the back. “What happened to your arm?”

“Car accident.” Close enough to the truth.

“Sorry to hear it, but we got problems enough here. One of the vendors is threatening to stop deliveries if you don’t catch up with the invoices and another waitress quit. With Lauren out and you a no-show for the last week, we’re understaffed.”

“So hire someone. That’s why I pay you to manage.”

“You want to add me as an authorized signer on the account, I can pay the bills. Otherwise, that’s on you.”

Not a chance. She wouldn’t give someone free access to steal her blind. Frank was a good guy, but she’d thought the same of Barry. She glanced at Rose. “It’s going to be another twenty minutes while I write some checks.”

“You’re not the bartender.” Rose said it as a statement.

“I am the bartender.” At the raised eyebrows and his dubious stare, she corrected herself. “But I’m not
just
the bartender. I own the place. And that stays between you, me, and Frank.”

Rose’s phone rang before he could reply.

“For the love of all things Texas, would you answer the blasted phone?”

He answered the phone with a terse “What?”

Debi shook her head and headed to her office. She could really use a cigarette right now.

Camy bit the tip off her thumbnail. Her brother was currently chewing her ass, which was his default mode with any of the sisters.

“What do you mean you’re in El Paso?”

That was complicated. She glanced at the boy on the computer who typed faster than most people could think. He moved his hand in a tight circle.
Keep him talking
. “You weren’t answering phone calls. The letters we sent came back undeliverable, so Mom and the rest of the girls elected me to come find you.”

“Find me? Stay the hell away. And why aren’t you in school?”

That was a subject for another day. Preferably never. “I need to see you.” She even added a little please at the end.

“I’m getting ready to leave on a deployment.” The stress in his high-pitched voice was off the charts. Not an emotion she recognized in her brother.

“If you’re leaving on a deployment, why do the people on base say you’re discharged?”

“You went to base?” He mumbled what might have been curses into the phone. “Stay put, you hear me? Do. Not. Move. I’ll call you back in ten minutes.”

He clicked off without warning.

Camy glanced at the boy on the laptop. A wicked grin lifted his normally serious features. He straightened his glasses. “Got him.”

Rose walked into Debi’s office like a charging bull. “Time’s up.”

She jumped to her feet. “What’s wrong?”

“My dumbass sister followed me to El Paso. Anything besides those boxes that you need loaded?”

She clicked the laptop closed. “My computer—”

“Not happening. You heard Fowler. No electronics in or out. Leave your cell phone, your laptop. You can pay bills online. We’ll find a secure computer.” He bent down to hoist the large box she’d had Frank pull from storage. “Let’s go.”

The rush inherent in his attitude stole her breath. “You go. Load these. I’ll come out with the last box.”

“Do not lift anything,” he ordered.

Once he was out the door, she forced a deep breath. Focused on the way his voice had sounded when he’d talked her down from the panic attack last time. Deep inhale. Count. Exhale. Her hand shook as she grabbed the USB drive with all her financial records. The anticipation of something bad happening was nearly as frightening as something bad actually happening, but when Rose came back for the last box, she was ready to go. They stopped at the bar where Frank was pouring one of the regulars another beer.

“Hey, Frank,” she called, but he didn’t hear her above the country music. She walked around the bar with Rose on her heels. “Hey, Frank,” she repeated.

This time, he and the customer both looked up.

“Hey,” Wade said. “If it isn’t my favorite bartender. Looks like you’re on the injured reserve list.”

Debi ignored the affable drunk who flirted with any female within a ten-yard radius, but Wade tried to intercept. Practiced at avoidance, she skirted a bar table and ended on the other side closer to the bar manager.

Wade shoved into Rose, because he was either inebriated or had a death wish. Rose waved him off like an annoying insect.

Wade pushed back. “Watch where you’re going, asshole.”

Fabulous. Picking a fight with a man the size of a Humvee was about as stupid as you could get. How much had the rancher had to drink? One more thing to mention to Frank, because the cowboy was getting more territorial over the bar and its inhabitants than was strictly healthy. She moved closer so she didn’t have to yell over the music. “Frank, I’ll be gone for awhile. If you need anything, send an email.”

She leaned closer to talk to him about the problem customer when Wade slammed into Rose, knocking the box and its contents clattering to the ground. “That better not be my microscope.”

Rose crossed his arms over his chest, a move that spoke volumes about how much he’d like to pound Wade into the ground, but he held back. The anger that was an ever-present side effect remained banked, but for how long was anyone’s guess. Another reason to leave quickly.

Debi leaned over to check the contents of the box. Notebooks spilled onto the floor, and she had to dig to see what else was damaged. A few broken petri dishes. Jerk.

Wade crowded closer, and when she ignored his presence, he reached down and rubbed his palm over her ass. She didn’t have time to react.

“That’s it.” Rose’s voice sounded more resigned than angry.

Debi glanced up to see Rose clock Wade. One hit and the cowboy dropped.

“What the hell? You can’t hit one of my customers.” Although—and she’d deny it until she died—she was happy to see Wade lying prone. He had groped and offended every waitress who ever worked for her.

“No man has a right to touch a woman without permission. Period.” An angry red flush climbed Rose’s face. “Now move. Get your ass in the truck.”

“River Rose, is that any way to speak to a woman?” A petite blonde stepped closer to the bar. She looked like an elf with hair in a cute pixie cut and silver hoop earrings dangling from her ears.

“Camellia.” The horror in his voice was matched by the slack-jawed horror on his face. “I told you to stay put.”

“If you were looking for obedience you should have called Lily.” She marched forward with a beauty pageant smile and offered her hand to Debi. “Hi, I’m Camy.”

Debi introduced herself, reached out and shook the other woman’s hands, a little dumbfounded by the ball of energy that seemed to light up the bar around her. “Did you just call him River?”

“What else would I call him?”

Indeed. “The list is long, but I’m partial to Rosie.”

“Sure, that’s a natural.” Camy sat down on a bar stool and faced Frank, who had been mesmerized from the moment Camy walked in. “Can I get a draft?”