Snow Blind-J Collins 4 (46 page)

Had the Trifecta of Terror locked El Presidente in his Caddy during the shootout? Don’t know why I found that so funny. I bit my lip to keep from laughing uncontrollably.

Maybe I was in shock. Or perhaps simply relieved my lover hadn’t murdered the man who’d fallen ten feet in front of me. Then again, this hadn’t been a random—
oh, look who showed up, let’s get him
situation.

This’d been a setup.

“Finally. He ’bout killed me he’s so goddamn anxious.”

“Tough.” I slapped my hand on Big Mike’s chest, stopping his flight. “What the fuck just happened?”

“Jesus. You sound exactly like him.”

“Start talking.”

His gaze cut to the driver’s side; his voice dropped.

“We knew once Jackal found out he’d try for you again.”

“Found out what? I’d escaped?”

“That, among other things.”

484

“Define ‘other things,’ Big Mike.”

“Things like Nyla.”

“What about Nyla?”

“She OD’d.” He held up his hand. “Not our fault.

She didn’t tell us shit about Jackal, we let her go after the situation with you, and she went on a binge. Maids at that motel found her yesterday.”

I stared at him. Had Nyla chosen to die by drugs rather than Jackal’s hand? “What else?”

“Jimmer heard what happened with you and Jackal. He called last night to talk to bossman, to offer to help, because he thinks Tony sucks at keeping you safe.

I intercepted the call because you guys were otherwise occupied. I told him to stay out of it.”

Whoa.

“Jimmer, being Jimmer, didn’t listen. He took it upon himself to follow you and Buzz this morning to see if anyone followed you.”

“And did anyone?”

“Jackal did. Personally. Jimmer was mad as hell when he called and said Jackal tracked you to both your office and the travel agency and you only had one guard. He said he was sick of pissing around with our lax security. Then he demanded Cal and Bucket get into position out here, knowing Jackal wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to go after you in a remote location. Buzz didn’t want to do it.”

My mouth dropped open. “You let Jimmer call the shots? This is Tony’s organization. Isn’t that like breaking a million Hombres ‘no outsiders’ rules?”

485

“Yes.” Big Mike pointed to his bruised face. “You think I want to get the fuck beat out of me again?

You think any of us like ignoring a direct order? No.

Jackal’s had the upper hand for weeks. We’ve all been frustrated. It doesn’t help Tony hasn’t been at one hundred percent, and his worry about you is clouding his judgment. And no, this isn’t a power play from me, or Cal, or anyone else. Martinez is our leader. Period.

We’re all prepared to deal with the fallout.”

“Where was Martinez when this was going down?”

“At physical therapy.”

“By
himself
?”

Big Mike scowled. “No. With me.”

“Just you? Just one goddamn bodyguard?”

“You surprised he’s a real fuckin’ dickhead about not wantin’ no one around when he’s doin’ that painful shit?”

I shook my head.

“Anyway, he knew something was up. He’s got some sixth sense about that. Some comment Buzz made to him when he answered your phone struck Martinez wrong.”

What? Oh. The ice cream.
Buzz had said I was getting banana ice cream. Tony knew I hated anything banana flavored.

“We were on our way back to the clubhouse when he made me pull over so he could drive, and he followed the tracker on your truck.”

“Did Buzz know about this plan?”

“Not until the last minute when Jimmer called 486

him with specifics.”

“So, I was fucking bait?”

“Yep.” Big Mike grimaced. “And we’re all gonna get our asses beat because that’s twice he’ll believe we’ve put you in danger on purpose. Jimmer left us no choice. Might be worth it now that it’s over and things can get back to normal.”

“Over?” I gestured to the surrounding area.

“What about the cops? Someone heard gunfire. It’s only a matter of time before it’s reported.”

“These buildings are abandoned. Jimmer uses this area as a training facility for urban warfare tactics.

Anyone asks questions, or says they saw something, he’ll claim it was just another training session.”

Not implausible, knowing Jimmer, the mysterious contracts within his pawnshop business, and his purported shady dealings with off-the-books government agencies like Blackwater. No wonder Hombres security didn’t argue with him—against protocol or not—when he came up with a plan.

“Get in the car before Martinez has an aneurysm.”

By the time I opened the door, my body vibrated like an opera singer’s voice box.

Martinez said, “Where are your keys?”

“In my truck.”

He threw the SUV in reverse and we took off.

“Hey, my purse—”

“—has an electric blanket tucked inside it?”

“No.”

487

“Then I don’t care. I’m taking you home to warm you up.
Again
. Stupid motherfuckers. I oughta kill every goddamn one of them for putting you in the line of fire.

As it is I’m gonna have to remind them just who the fuck is in charge of this club.” He ranted and I tuned him out.

He noticed I hadn’t said boo before he saw the pinched look on my face.

“What’s wrong?”

“Are you fucking serious?”

“Are you hurt?”

“No.”

“Then what?”

“I’m supposed to be
used
to people getting their brains blown out in front of me? That’s twice in three days! I’m just supposed to go ‘oh well, another one bites the dust’?”

“You telling me you’re upset that Jackal is finally dead?”

“No.”

His eyes bored into me. “I don’t understand what’s going on with you.”

“I know you don’t. So forget it, okay?”

“Julie—”

“Drop it, Tony. Just leave it alone.”

He sighed.

The trip to my house was made in silence. I didn’t have my cigarettes, my cell phone, or my keys. Had to wait for Martinez to unlock my front door before I could get into my own damn house.

His phone rang—big surprise—I grabbed the Don 488

Julio and retreated to the bathroom. I knocked three slugs straight from the bottle while peeling off my clothes.

The heat from the water warmed me. I blowdried my hair and stayed in the humidity until I was calm enough to deal with him.

But Martinez was still on the phone.

As I dressed in my pj’s, I heard the shower kick on. Mentally exhausted, I crawled in bed and willed sleep to come fast. When had it become so easy to nap during the day?

After you killed someone.

Stop. Dammit.
I was tired of that single incident being the first excuse that popped into my head every time something went wrong.

The bedroom door banged open. “We need a bigger water heater. I’m sick of cold showers.”

The old me would’ve said, “So take a shower at your place if you don’t like it.” The new, mooning-around-in-love me felt guilty and said, “Sorry.”

The bed shifted and he slid under the covers, wrapping himself around me like a cocoon.

Maybe it was selfish, but I wanted to hide under the covers with him and pretend everything was hunky-dory. No dead bodies, no business secrets between us.

Just us. Just for a little while.

Finally, Martinez sighed. “I am trying.”

“Try harder.”

His soft laughter was the last thing I heard before I drifted off.

489

Two hours later the bedside phone rang. Sheriff Richards was on his way over to talk to me. He didn’t mention about what.

Martinez wasn’t happy. Neither was the Hombres security team. They opted to chill in the bedroom.

Tony refused.

When the sheriff arrived, he shook Martinez’s hand, which shocked the hell out of me. Then I remembered they’d worked together last fall to track me down at Bear Butte. I filled cups and pretended a coffee klatch with my former cop boss and my current criminal lover was an everyday occurrence.

Tony and I sat side by side on the couch. He kept his hand on my thigh.

Sheriff Richards scrutinized me from the easy chair.

“Collins, you look terrible. What happened to you?”

490

“Skiing accident.”

He frowned. “Since when do you ski?”

“I don’t. I’m learning. Cross-country. Not downhill.” I pointed to Martinez’s leg brace. “I fell, then he fell, and we ended up spending more time out in the elements than we’d expected.”

“Gotta be careful. Hypothermia is dangerous stuff.”

He rested his forearms on his knees and studied Martinez, then me. “You have an inkling about why I’m here?”

“I’m not being flip when I say not a clue.”

He gave us that back-and-forth squinty, hard cop eye.

Made me wonder who’d win in a stare down between him and Martinez.

“I’m here because BD Hoffman and Beth

McClanahan came to see me yesterday and told me everything. I’ve gotta say I’m impressed you dug that connection up, because I missed it.”

I waited.

“But it’s a dead end.”

“What do you mean?”

“DCI in Pierre called me this morning. They’ve been behind because of a flu epidemic and haven’t gotten to Melvin Canter’s case. Now Canter’s family is making a big stink about refusing an autopsy and wanting the body returned for burial.”

I wondered if I’d averted my eyes and started whistling would my part in that be too obvious.

“With the excessive postmortem wounds, including chunks getting chopped out of the corpse by the 491

tractor, and the obscenely large amounts of alcohol in the blood system, the docs at the VA can’t determine manner of death for Melvin Canter.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Never heard of this before. Never had this happen in all my years of law enforcement. They’ve closed the file as an accidental agricultural death, and the body is en route to the funeral home as we speak.” He sipped his coffee, staring at me. “Do you have anything you’d like to add to their official observations?”

Yeah. My half brother killed Melvin Canter, and he
and my father worked together to cover it up.

Putting my father or DJ in jail wouldn’t help anyone. I didn’t like it. But I liked it even less that the justice system had failed so many other times with children and there were multiple victims of Melvin Canter’s sexual assaults.

But . . . what if not addressing DJ’s problem or his violent reaction caused him to become a sociopath? Or a predator? Or allowed him to think he was above the law?

“Julie?” Martinez prompted.

I shook my head and said nothing.

“Case is closed then. Look. I don’t normally do this, nor do I let people wait this long to file after an incident has occurred, especially when it didn’t raise flags at the DA’s office, but I wanted to let you know that BD Hoffman pressed assault charges against Doug Collins when he was in yesterday.”

492

“What?”

“For the incident in Bevel’s Hardware last week. I know Deputy John encouraged BD to drop it, but Beth McClanahan urged BD to follow through. Said she wishes she would’ve followed through years ago. She wondered how many kids she could’ve saved from humiliation and heartache if she would’ve done the right thing.

“So, I’ve asked Doug to turn himself in. Since he doesn’t have a record he probably won’t do much, if any, time in jail. Probably have to attend anger management classes. Seems fitting after all these years, don’t it?”

I nodded, even when I suspected it’d be too little too late.

Sheriff Richards stood. “Thanks for your help. I ain’t kidding when I say I hope it’s a long time before I see you in an official capacity again, Collins.”

“Likewise, Sheriff.”

I walked him to the door and watched him pull away in a Bear Butte County patrol car.

Martinez sent his bodyguards for pizza and wrapped his arms around my midsection. “You okay?”

“Were you worried? That he’d found out what’d gone down with Jackal and Trina and he’d come here to ask questions?”

“I wondered. Nothing is foolproof.”

“Nothing meaning covering up a murder?”

“Nothing meaning you didn’t kill Trina and neither did I. The guy who did was on the loose. You think if I couldn’t catch him that the sheriff could?”

493

“I don’t know. You pissed off about Jimmer over-stepping his bounds?”

“Some. I’ll have to keep an iron fist on the members so they don’t get any ideas about taking matters into their own hands or taking them to someone else.

Jimmer won’t stomp on my toes again, but I am grateful the problem is solved.

“Bottom line is Jackal killed three people in the last two weeks. He tried to kill three more. That says defective human. Like Melvin Canter, Jackal couldn’t be rehabilitated. Goddammit, I tried. And look where it got me. I almost lost you. I won’t be forgetting that anytime soon.”

“So, Jackal usurped your authority, turned your employees against you, killed an Hombres guard, killed Trina, tried to kill you, tried to kill me—does that mean his death was a business-related hit?”

“As far as my business associates know? Yes. But in my mind, it was personal. I won’t apologize for it.”

“I don’t expect you to.” My fingers traced the lacy ice pattern on the glass. “Jackal said you took something that belonged to him and he wanted it back. What was it?”

Martinez didn’t answer right away. “If I tell you, things will change between us.”

“Why?”

“Because even though it might not seem like it, you are the one thing in my life that doesn’t have anything to do with Hombres business. I’d like to keep it that way.” He feathered kisses by my ear. “You know I don’t sell puppies, blondie.”

494

“I pretend you do.”

He chuckled.

“Dealing with law enforcement is part of my business. Will that be an issue for you?”

“Not unless you’re meeting with them to turn me in.”