The Millionaire Cowboy's Secret (17 page)

“Either way, it’s a setup. Just a distraction.”

As if confirming his words, the helicopter slowly began to rise. As it did, someone inside sprayed the ground with bullets.

“If they get directly above us, we’re sitting targets,” Skylar warned. “We’ve got to take cover.”

“The truck’s too far away.” Matt grabbed the side of a bale of hay. “Help me. We can make enough of a makeshift shelter to block us from them.”

Quickly they swung hay into place, crawling underneath once they had enough room. Skylar braced herself, hoping Matt was right and the thickness of the hay bales would protect them. She tried to remember if she’d ever seen any studies or watched any videos of what happened when a bullet—or in this case multiple bullets—was shot into hay bales.

But instead of hovering over them, the chopper took off, flying due east, moving fast.

“They’re joining the other one,” Matt said, helping her out from under the hay.

“Let me have your cell phone,” she ordered. As he dug it out from his pocket, she snatched it out of his hand and hit the redial button for the last call received.

She didn’t recognize the voice that answered, but truly didn’t care. “What the hell was that?” she spat. “I was willing to trade myself for José Nivas. Where is he? What have you done with him?”

Mocking laughter greeted her. “Ah, the federal agent. You’re
muy estúpido
—much more stupid than I thought.”

Keeping a leash on her temper, she snarled, “What have you done with him?”

“The better question,” the man, who must have been Diego Rodriguez, said silkily, “is what we’re going to do with all that free ammunition.”

“Is this Diego Rodriguez or someone from La Familia?” she said, equally smooth.

Silence while he digested her words.

“What do you mean by that?” he asked carefully. She thought she could finally detect a note of fear in his voice.

“I guess you’ll have to find out, now, won’t you?” she said and ended the call.

“Well?” Matt demanded as she handed him back his phone.

“I still don’t know anything. Other than scaring the crap out of Diego—if that was him—all he said was he was planning to nab the ammo.”

“It’s not that easy,” Matt told her. “I’ve got reinforced-steel doors with a combination, just like a bank vault. They’ll have to use explosives to get in there. And if La Familia shows up...”

“Not to mention the ATF. How long will it take us to get over there?” she asked, eyeing his pickup and wondering why he seemed to feel no sense of urgency.

“Depends. If we stick to the roads and go in by the old farm-to-market road, maybe four or five minutes tops. Longer if we drive on the ranch.”

“Well, come on.” She grabbed his arm. “Let’s go check on your ammunition.”

Instead of moving, he shook off her hand. “No. I don’t care about that anymore. Your ATF people can take care of Diego and the cartel.”

“But...” She stared at him. “I thought... Don’t you care about—”

“I care about José,” he told her bluntly, his expression bleak. “I just want him back safe. I’m done with all the rest—the cartel, Diego, revenge.”

“You are? Why?”

Instead of answering, he shook his head. “Now is not the time. Plus, I guess I shouldn’t have said I was done with the cartel. They’ve changed all that by taking José. Now I’ve got to get my best friend back.”

She said the first thing that came to mind. “You don’t think there’s a chance he’s in the other chopper? Maybe they brought him to pinpoint the exact location of the cave?”

He cursed. “I didn’t think of that. Come on. Let’s go.”

They ran to his truck and hopped in. Matt pulled out, tires screeching, driving fast.

“Hold on,” he told her, the set of his jaw grim. “The roads are gravel and bumpy. Make sure you have your seat belt on.”

She did—old habit—so she simply nodded.

They rocketed down the road, skidding on dirt and gravel, hitting ruts so hard they bounced, only their seat belts kept them from hitting the roof.

“How far now?” she asked, gritting her teeth to keep them from knocking into each other.

“Once we hit the farm-to-market road, it’s about three miles.”

As they crested a hill, she saw the choppers parked side by side in a field. Several government-issue vehicles were parked ahead, blocking the road.

“Looks like the ATF has arrived,” she said.

“They’re real fond of black, aren’t they?” Matt asked wryly.

“Yes, they are,” she answered, wishing like hell she could see what was going on inside the perimeter. “It doesn’t look as if they’ve secured the helicopters yet.”

“I don’t know. The blades aren’t moving.”

“Good point.” When they reached the first Suburban, which had been parked sideways across the road, two heavily armed agents rushed out to block their way.

Matt parked. Skylar flashed her ID. “This is the landowner,” she said, indicating Matt. “Let us pass.”

With the window open, she could clearly hear the sharp report of gunfire.

“We can’t,” the agent said. “A bunch of heavily armed Mexicans are shooting at each other. There’s been a gun battle going on there. Our team got caught in the cross fire. We’ve radioed for medics. As best I can understand, we have two down.”

“Out of how many?” she barked. “How many men did we send in there?”

He gave her a startled look before answering. “Twenty-four. Two teams of twelve. INS officers are en route, and the Texas Rangers are sending men, too. We’ve got the situation under control. Now please stand back.”

Moving back to the pickup, Skylar and Matt did as he asked.

“What now?” Skylar asked.

“There’s a back way in,” Matt told her. “Get in the truck. We’ll drive until we’re out of sight and then we’ll park and go in on foot.”

“And then what?”

He made a sound of frustration. “I don’t know. I’m guessing we’ll look for José and see if we can rescue him.”

“While I’m all for action,” Skylar told him, “since we have no way to make the ATF teams aware of our position, between them and the Mexicans, not to mention the INS guys and the frickin’ Texas Rangers, there’s an overwhelming likelihood we’ll get shot.”

He nodded, his expression fierce. “I understand. You can stay here if you want. But if there’s any way I can get José out, I’m going to take it.”

Well, damn and double damn. Since hell would freeze over before she’d let Matt go in there on his own, she knew she had no choice. “Fine. I’m in.”

They drove down the winding road until they could no longer see the ATF vehicles. Matt pulled over and killed the engine.

“Listen, Skylar,” he began. “This isn’t your battle. You don’t have to do this.”

Leaning over, she planted a hard and fast kiss on his mouth. “Enough of that nonsense. We’re a team, remember? Come on. Let’s go.”

Out of the pickup, they could hear the sounds of the gunfire much more clearly. With a sinking heart, Skylar knew that if La Familia had their way, no one would be leaving there alive.

And the worst part of it was they still didn’t know what José’s true role was in all of this. For his sake, she hoped he hadn’t chosen the wrong side.

Rifle slung over his shoulder, Matt strode off, looking like a dangerous mercenary from an action flick.

Hurrying after him, she nearly jumped out of her skin when her cell phone rang.

“Wait,” she called to Matt. “It’s my boss.”

Answering, she barely got out her last name.

“Where are you?” David barked. “Tell me you’re not on-site, disobeying orders.”

“Um.” Done with skirting the edges of the truth, she grimaced. “Not yet. But we will be there soon.”

“Hold back,” he ordered. “We’ve secured the scene. We have Diego Rodriguez, José Nivas and various Mexican nationals in custody.”

Listening, she realized the gunfire had stopped. She repeated David’s words out loud so that Matt could hear.

“How many dead?” she asked.

“Two of our men were wounded. I don’t have a body count for the others yet.”

Again she repeated what she’d heard.

“Who are you talking to?” David demanded to know.

“Matt Landeta. He and I were going in the back way to try to rescue José Nivas.”

“I’m not sure he needs rescuing.” David’s hard tone told her what he thought of men who betrayed their friends. While she could sympathize, she refused to pass judgment until she heard José’s side of the story.

“What about the ammunition?” she asked dazedly, amazed at the speed with which everything had been settled.

“That’s why I’m calling you.” David sounded grim. “We just blasted into the caves. We need to have a word with Mr. Landeta.”

“Why?”

“Because there’s no ammunition in there. The damn place is empty.”

Chapter 16

A
s soon as she and Matt showed up at the storefront the ATF was using as temporary headquarters, they were separated.

Trying not to show her impatience, she answered every question accurately, not really caring if the truth damned her and ruined her career. She’d already disobeyed a direct order. She wasn’t sure she even wanted to continue in law enforcement anyway.

When she’d finished, she was put in a holding cell and left alone. Her own agency was treating her like a common criminal.

Her repeated requests to talk to Matt were completely ignored. She didn’t know where they’d taken him or even if he was being charged with some sort of crime. Since they hadn’t found any ammunition, she doubted they’d have a leg to stand on, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t try.

Even her questions about José Nivas were deflected. She supposed she’d find out eventually when she finally got ahold of Matt.

At last, after twelve endless hours, she was released and instructed to return home, with orders not to contact anyone involved in the case—especially Matt Landeta. She had a final debriefing scheduled for the following morning at the Dallas ATF office, which was the one she worked out of.

“I’ve got to go to Matt Landeta’s ranch first,” she told them. “My dog is there, as well as my belongings.” What she didn’t say was that she had to find Matt, too.

The special agent in charge—who was not David—nodded. “We’ll send an escort with you.”

“I don’t need an escort.”

The cold look he gave her made her frown. “Actually, you do. We’ve seized the Landeta ranch until further notice. No one, including Mr. Landeta, is allowed on or off the property without strict supervision.”

Stunned, she managed not to show it. “Thanks,” she snapped. “Then why don’t you go ahead and drum up this escort so I can be on my way?”

Her attitude wasn’t earning her any brownie points, she could tell from his furious expression. Again, she found she didn’t care. She had more important things to worry about.

The wrought-iron gate was wide open. Escorted by two decidedly unfriendly agents, Skylar hurried to the main house and located Talia. Her pet was overjoyed to see her, jumping and spinning in circles. Despite the border collie’s friendly greeting, Skylar’s escort ignored the dog. She wondered if they were made of stone.

Once she’d taken Talia outside, she went to the little camper and gathered the last of her belongings, trying to ignore both the lump in her throat and her ever- present, unsmiling escort.

Since disobeying the order to report back for a debriefing, she’d expected this. Whatever other repercussions would come from her actions, she guessed she’d find out when she returned to the office on Monday morning, after taking a few days off, plus the weekend. No doubt David would give her an earful.

The little rented Volkswagen had vanished. Upon questioning, her escort told her it had been seized and would be returned to the rental agency. She had a brief moment of disquiet, wondering how the heck she was going to get back home, then realized her escort had most likely been told to drive her.

Though she kept hoping, she saw no sign of Matt.

Telling herself everything would get straightened out soon enough, she squared her shoulders, lifted her chin and marched out to the government-issue vehicle, carrying her bag, with Talia prancing at her side.

* * *

Back home, Talia raced around the small house joyously. Eager to explore the familiar surroundings, she barked at the back door to be let out. After letting her go, Skylar roamed her home, full of an aching kind of restlessness.

She wanted Matt. No, she
needed
Matt. But her phone never rang and she tried to tell herself—without success—that it was all for the best. For now.

For the rest of the week and through the weekend, she slept, she ate, she went through the motions, but she never felt truly herself. The combination of anticipation—she kept expecting the phone to ring—and sadness had her numb.

She wondered what had happened to José. She wondered where the ammunition had gone. But mostly, she wondered how Matt was, if he was holding up, if he needed her. She didn’t know if he was still in custody or had been released.

Monday morning, her stomach in knots, she reported for work as normal. She hadn’t been inside the building for five minutes when her intercom buzzed and she was instructed to go to David Northrup’s office immediately.

Shoulders back, head held high, she did.

“Have a seat,” he said. Unable to tell from his tone whether she was about to be berated or not, she sat.

“We’ve been named in a lawsuit,” he told her. “Along with the ATF, you’ve been named personally.”

Of anything he could have said, she hadn’t expected this. “A...lawsuit?”

Expression drawn, he slid a paper across the desk toward her. “Matt Landeta. He’s suing us for entrapment, illegal entry and theft of property, among other things. You’re being named personally as the one who did the entrapping. You should expect to be served sometime today.”

“Sued?” Though she knew she kept repeating his words, she didn’t really know what else to say.

Lips tight, he nodded. “There’s more. Landeta has also filed a restraining order. You’re not to contact him or go within five hundred feet of him.”

She couldn’t speak. She felt sick. In fact, she suffered as if she’d been punched in the stomach. It took every bit of her willpower to keep from doubling over.

Back ramrod straight, she accepted the second sheet of paper he slid over to her.

“Read these at your leisure,” David told her. “In fact, you might want to consult with an attorney. As of right now, you are officially on mandatory leave until notified. I’ll have someone escort you to your desk so you can clean it out.”

Horrified, she could only shake her head. “That’s what you do when people have been fired. Everyone will think...”

He shrugged, clearly not caring. “I’ll make sure they know that’s not the case.” Pressing his intercom button, he asked to have Agent Delvecchio sent in.

When he’d finished, he looked right at Skylar, expression blank, as if he didn’t really see her. “That’ll be all, Agent McLain. We’ll call you if we need anything.”

Skylar didn’t move, even though the other agent stepped into the room. “I have a few questions. How long will I be on leave? I assume it’s paid leave?”

“It is paid, and as I said, you’ll be on leave until you’re notified otherwise. Any more questions?”

Standing, praying her legs didn’t give out from under her, she shook her head. Agent Delvecchio opened the door for her.

As she walked to her desk, accompanied by her silent escort, she felt the eyes of everyone on her. Heart pounding, she cleaned out her desk as quickly as she could, hating that she’d been made to feel like a criminal.

Worse, what the hell was up with Matt? She couldn’t understand why he’d file a lawsuit to begin with. And to name her in it, as if she had replaced Diego Rodriguez as his enemy, defied comprehension.

Carrying her box of belongings to her car in the bright sunshine, she realized her life had just completely fallen apart and, once again, she was starting from scratch. On her own—and alone.

In the car on the way home, she resisted the urge to call Matt, even though she’d taken her cell phone out and placed it in the cup holder.

Curiously numb, she parked in her driveway, retrieved her stupid box and carried it into her house.

“We’ll get to the bottom of this,” she told Talia, earning a lick and a tail thump in return. “There must be some kind of mistake. Matt wouldn’t sue me.” After all, while there’d been no promises exchanged between them, she and Matt had developed the beginnings of a relationship.

Or so she’d thought.

What the hell? She’d already disobeyed one direct order. Picking up her home phone, she punched in the number. An unfamiliar male answered. “Landeta residence.”

“Matt, please.”

A pause and then, “May I ask who’s calling?”

When she gave her name, she swore she could feel ice forming on the line.

“I’m sorry. Legal counsel has advised Mr. Landeta that due to the ongoing litigation, he should have nothing to do with you,” the professional voice said with perfect diction. “Therefore, Mr. Landeta has requested that you not call him again.”

Stunned, hurt and surprisingly furious, Skylar hung up the phone. So it was true. Matt wanted nothing else to do with her. “In a way, I guess I can’t blame him,” she told Talia, ruffling her pet’s fur and resisting the urge to bury her face in her ruff and weep. “Ongoing litigation and a restraining order. I think it’s safe to say that whatever we had between us is over. Or maybe I only imagined it.”

Talia whined.

Feeling the prick of tears in her eyes, Skylar got up. “It’s apparently possible I wasn’t the only one playing a role,” she said, heading into the bathroom to take a hot shower.

Only when she’d set her showerhead to the highest massage setting it had and the near-scalding water was pounding her body did she finally break down and let herself cry.

* * *

“The lawsuit has been filed.” The high-priced lawyer in his expensive suit looked pleased. No doubt because of all the money he envisioned Matt shelling out to him and his firm. “The judge has ordered that you can legally return to your home.”

When Matt didn’t respond, the attorney handed him a manila folder as he continued, “Not only is it on file with the court, but we’ve had the ATF offices served, as well as Ms. McLain.”

That got Matt’s attention. “Skylar? What about her?”

“She’s named in the lawsuit, of course. From what you told me the other day, there’s no doubt she was the one who entrapped you.”

Heart sinking, Matt began flipping through the folder, almost frantically. He stopped when he saw a paper marked Restraining Order Request. Narrowing his eyes, he looked up at the man he’d hired—and was now about to fire. “A restraining order? You filed a restraining order against her?”

Judging from the way he blanched, the lawyer realized at that moment that he might have overstepped his bounds. “Well, sir, it’s common procedure in these kinds of situations. From what you’ve told me, the woman sounds like a stalker.”

“That’s it. I wanted the ATF to pay for what they did, but not her. Withdraw the lawsuit and remove the restraining order.”

The other man’s mouth fell open. “I believe if you stop and think this through, you’ll realize that everything we did was in your best interests.”

Coldly furious, Matt stood. “I want this handled today. Notify me once you’re finished.”

“But—”

Ignoring the beginning of what sounded like another protest, Matt held up his hand. “And when everything is completed, you’re fired. Send your bill to my home address and I’ll make sure you’re paid.”

Turning, he walked out the door.

Driving home, he cursed the law firm. Shortly after all the dust had settled from the Mexican gun battle and the ATF’s pointless raid, which had been featured on the evening news—both local and national—Matt had taken to hiding out from reporters and photographers in his motel room. Though he’d despised feeling trapped in a place that wasn’t even his own home, he hated dodging reporters and cameras even more. At least now he could return to the ranch. He’d once again take refuge in his home. The only time he would leave would be to visit José in the hospital.

Since his friend was still unconscious, Matt had yet to learn José’s true story. Contrary to what he’d said earlier, Diego Rodriguez denied taking him captive. A prisoner of the state, Diego was lucky he hadn’t been killed when La Familia had swooped down to exact revenge. He’d be held in a U.S. prison until he was extradited to Mexico. There, Matt had no doubt he’d be brutally tortured and killed. La Familia didn’t forgive and forget.

Many of Diego’s men had died, along with several of the Mexican nationals who worked for the big drug cartel. When the ATF had begun cleaning up the mess, they’d hauled all the wounded into the nearest hospital, and that was where Matt had found José.

His friend had a minor head injury and, judging from his blood workup, had been given some kind of heavy-duty tranquilizer. At least it wasn’t heroin. For that, Matt counted his blessings. He didn’t know if José would be up to kicking the drug a second time.

He looked forward to hearing José’s explanation. Despite how everything looked, he still believed in his friend and would continue to do so unless José himself told him something different.

As luck would have it, he was there in the hospital when José opened his eyes.

“Matt?” Attempting a weak smile, José tried to sit up. Matt helped him, stuffing two pillows behind his back.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like hell,” José answered, his voice gravelly from disuse. “Could you hand me a glass of water?”

Once his friend had taken a few sips, Matt leaned forward, about to question him. As he did, a nurse making her rounds entered the room, realized her patient was awake and called for the doctor. As she began making note of José’s vitals, she turned to Matt and asked him to leave.

“You can see your friend later, once the doctor has taken a good look at him.”

Which meant explanations would have to wait for another day. He went home, had supper and tried to think.

Restless, unable to sleep and missing Skylar, Matt wandered his ranch, ending up in the old barn with only his horses for company. This was where he missed Skylar the most. She’d loved it here as much as he did, he thought.

In the morning, Matt rose at his usual time and showered. After a brief ride to check his land, he grabbed some of the clean clothes José kept at the ranch, put them in a grocery bag and headed for the hospital.

From the look of the half-eaten breakfast on a tray, José had been up awhile and was feeling better. He eyed Matt cautiously, wincing a little, as if his head hurt.

Though he really wanted to know the truth, Matt wouldn’t push for answers. He knew his friend would tell him when he was ready.

“How are you feeling this morning?” he asked.