Naked Flame (9 page)

“Excuse me. I need to take this call.” She slid back her chair and walked away from the table, her back turned to the group. She could feel them staring at her, but she needed privacy for this. Stanton wouldn't call her unless it was an emergency of some kind.

“What's up, LT?”

“Charity, are you someplace safe?” He sounded tense.

“Pretty much so. Why?”

“I hate having to tell you this, but Morales got himself busted out of jail about an hour ago.”

“What?” She nearly dropped the phone. “Are you kidding me?”

“I wish. The cops were bringing him to the courthouse for sentencing when a pickup smashed into the vehicle. The driver and both guards were shot. Before anyone could get to the scene, Morales was gone.”

“Damn! Are the guys okay?”

“Two of them.” His voice had a distressed edge to it. “The driver's dead.”

“Oh, hell.” Her stomach clenched. “I am so sorry. Any idea how this happened?”

“We're pretty sure his lawyer set it up. The DEA and FBI are all over it.” Silence pulsed across the line for a moment. “Charity, I don't know if he can find you, but keep in mind he's hooked into the Sinaloa cartel. They have contacts everywhere. So be someplace safe.”

“I don't think anyone would think to look for me in this little town.” She paced, raking her fingers through her curls. “I'm good. Don't worry.”

I hope.

“Just to be on the safe side, I gave your sheriff a heads up.”

“What?” She stopped pacing, her blood pressure rising. “Oh, God. You think they'll track me here? LT, I do not want the people of this nice little town mixed up in this.”

“Charity.” Stanton sounded weary. “You of all people know how dangerous Morales is and how focused he is on revenge. I don't want you to be another victim of it. I think you need to stay put. You don't have any official ties to that town. That will make it a lot harder for anyone to track you there.”

She blew out a breath. The knot in her stomach felt as big as a fist. “But—”

“But nothing. You still have your personal gun, right?”

“Of course.” Her familiar HK was in a lockbox at the house. Not something she'd expected to need in Saddle Wells.

“Be sure you keep it with you at all times. I know I don't have to warn you to be careful, but…” he paused, “…be careful.”

“I will. You'll let me know if you hear anything? I mean, besides funneling it through the local law?”

“Of course. Just stay safe.”

She had just disconnected the call when Sheriff Dillon Cross, Jinx's husband, came through the door to Mike's. Speak of the devil. At the look on his face she held up a hand.

“Please don't go all macho on me. I just got off the phone with my former boss and I know the situation, I can take care of myself.”

The good-looking sheriff frowned at her. “You of all people should know we have procedures for shit like this, so please do not give me a hard time. My wife would kill me if anything happened to you.”

“I hate the fact that bad trouble is coming here because of me.”

“Shit happens. You know that.”

Charity looked around. What was left of the lunch crowd was watching them with unabashed curiosity. Liam had just come out from behind the bar and her friends rose from the table where they were sitting.

“Can we take this someplace a little more private?”

“Take what somewhere?” Liam was beside her now, tension vibrating from his body. “What the hell's going on?”

“I'll tell you if we can all go in the kitchen. Out of sight of everyone else. Please.”

“Fine.” He wrapped his fingers around her arm and tugged her with him. “Let's go.” He looked at the women who were all staring at them. “You too, I guess.”

Mac was just finishing the lunch cleanup when they all invaded the kitchen area. “What the hell?”

“Go on home, Mac,” Liam told him.

“But I ain't done here.”

“I'll finish. Just go, okay?”

Mac scowled at him, snorted in disgust and hung up his apron. “See you tomorrow. Don't mess up my kitchen.”

As soon as he was gone, Liam turned to the sheriff.

“Okay, give. What's going on here?”

As briefly but in as much detail as possible, Dillon gave them the information.

“Charity?” Amy's eyes were wide. “You didn't tell us you might be in danger. We would have taken better care of you.”

“She's being well taken care of.” Liam pulled her in tight to his body. “I'll be sure she's safe.”

Dillon looked at his wife. “Jinx, you all need to stay as far away from Charity as you can until this is over. And I'm calling your husbands to make sure they hang on to you.”

“Wait a minute, wait a minute, wait a minute.” Cyn held up her hands. “Let's not all go crazy here. Whoever this guy is has no idea Charity even knows us.”

“That we know of. Anyone who could set up a jailbreak like this has fingers everywhere. I'd expect they've even got the license plate from your car, Charity.”

She swallowed hard at the truth of those words, suddenly shaken and glad for the support of Liam's arm.

“I won't drive my own vehicle,” she promised.

“Damn straight,” Liam agreed. “I'm taking you home and locking you in the house until this is over.”

“She needs someplace more isolated from town,” Amy objected. “Someplace with security, where we can see people coming.”

“And that would be where?” Dillon asked.

“She should come home with me.” She thrust out her jaw, expecting an argument. “Think of it. We're out of town. We've got all kinds of security because of Buck's high-priced bull. And every one of the hands, plus my husband, is an expert with a gun.”

Charity shook her head. “I'm not going anywhere that I'll be putting people in danger. The smart thing for me to do is get out of town.”

“Over my dead body,” Liam growled.

Everyone started to speak at once, the babble of voices giving Charity a headache. Dillon's sharp whistle cut through the noise.

“Everyone, hold it a second.” He looked at Liam. “That means you too.” He waited until everyone was silent. “Okay, here's the deal. We're dealing with some bad people here, and I don't want any of you in their sights. Charity, I think the best thing is for me to tuck you away someplace where nobody—and I mean nobody—knows where you are. That gives me time to contact all the law enforcement agencies around here and get a network set up.”

“And then what?” she demanded. “We just wait?”

“We put out the word. There are enough snitches someone will have the word on Morales and the people with him.”

“They won't tell you if they want to stay alive,” she pointed out. “Please. I've been a cop for ten years. I can handle myself. I refuse to put anyone else in the line of fire.” She looked at Liam. “And that includes you.”

“No way in hell. I was in the army, for God's sake. In Delta Force. Who better than me to protect you?”

“I am not putting you in the line of fire. I don't care what you were.” She shouted the words. “How much plainer can I be? This was my job for ten years. I still know how to do it.”

“Not saying you don't. But it's my job to keep you safe.”

“I'm not a member of your Delta Force team. I don't take orders from you.”

She took a deep breath and turned to Dillon. “Can you please drive me to Liam's house? My vehicle and my gun are there.”

“Did you not hear me?” He crowded next to her. “You want to go to the house, I'll take you. Mike will be here pretty soon and we can leave then. But you are not getting your car.”

She shook her head and without thinking, glanced at his bad leg.

“Shit.” The word cracked in the air. “You think I'm a cripple who can't take care of you.”

Her heart squeezed.

Bad mistake, Charity.
“Liam, that's not what I—”

A muscle twitched in his cheek. “Not what you meant? Could have fooled me.”

And just like that, the sense of intimacy between them dissipated, replaced by buzzing hostility. It left a sudden gap in their relationship.

Relationship? Dream on, girl. He's like every other man, determined to give the orders. Control every situation.

Charity fought that condition all her professional life.

She rubbed her forehead, trying to stave off the beginning of a headache. “Fine. Fine, fine, fine. You can take me back to the house.” She looked at her friends. “But you all have to stay away from me until this bastard is caught. Please don't argue with me. I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to you because of me.”

“I'll handle it,” Dillon assured her.

“Thank you. Now if you will all get out of here, I can finish cleaning up from lunchtime and leave Mike a clean place.”

As soon as everyone left, she grabbed the big tray from the counter, but Liam stopped her before she could leave the room.

“Are you crazy? You're going out there where anyone can just walk in?”

She glared at him. “Do you seriously think these drug dealers are going to walk into this place in the middle of the day? And what? Shoot up everyone here?”

He just stood there, gripping her arm.

“Liam. These people are idiots, but they are not stupid. They won't put themselves in a situation where they might be shot. They'll lurk and watch and pounce when they think the time is right. And when they think they can get away scot-free.”

“I'm bussing the place with you, but I have to get something first.”

He dragged her down the short hall to the tiny office where he unlocked the safe. He reached, pulled out a metal box, opened it and lifted out an Israeli Desert Eagle.

“
Damn
. You keep that cannon here?”

“Can't be too careful about robberies.” He checked the gun and slid a loaded magazine into place, racking the slide to chamber a bullet.

Her laugh was slightly hysterical. “You planning to shoot the customers?”

“If one of them looks like he's going to shoot you. Or me. Come on, let's get this done.”

Chapter Six

Charity was convinced she was going to lose her mind. For two days, she and Liam had been holed up in the house, barely speaking to each other. Before she could get in her SUV and leave, he'd grabbed her purse and taken the keys out of it, sticking them in the pocket of his jeans. No matter how much she yelled or cajoled or pleaded, he just ignored her. When he did speak, all he said was, “No one's getting through me to you. And neither of us are leaving here until that bastard's caught.”

Every one of her new friends called at least once a day to check in on her.

“I swear, I'm going to kill him any minute,” she told Cyn the second day. “I can't make him understand that I've been doing this for a very long time. I'm not going to put myself deliberately in the line of fire. I'm smarter than that. He's so damn macho about it.”

“I feel your pain.” Cyn laughed. “But, honey, it's obvious he cares a lot about you and wants to keep you safe.”

“I get that, but how can I spend the rest of my life—or even another week—with a man who won't give me the professional respect I'm due?”

“I'd come by and give you moral support,” Reenie told her, “but we've been told to stay away from the house.”

“I know.” She sighed.

Mike had packed a bag and moved over to the B&B for the duration, however long that was. “I don't need to be here to see you two spittin' at each other,” he'd said. “Andy and I will keep the bar going.”

Charity was relieved to have him out of the danger zone, even if it was for the wrong reason. She would have gone to the Butterfly herself, but then she'd be putting Georgie and Cade in danger. So she kept her mouth shut. She did make it clear she wasn't about to be the house cook. There was plenty of food, a shocker for the home of two bachelors, so she fixed her own meals while Liam fixed his. They ate in solitary silence. All the talking they'd done up to now, all the personal history and intimate thoughts they'd exchanged, disappeared like so much smoke.

She gave Dillon every bit of information she had stored in her head about Morales. She was sure Stanton had done the same, along with a photo of the guy.

Dillon had one of his deputies doing regular drive-bys, scouting the area. He himself checked in by phone twice a day, and at least he strategized with her so she didn't feel totally useless.

This morning, she'd done her best to keep herself occupied, but she was getting jittery, ready to jump out of her skin. When her phone rang right after lunch and she saw Dillon Cross's name on the readout, she hoped he finally had some good news.

“I don't know how good it is,” he told her, “but I got a call from your old boss, Milo Stanton.”

“And?” she prompted.

“He says he got word that Paco Morales is in our area.”

Charity's stomach clenched. “Are they sure?”

“As sure as it's possible to be.”

“I can't say I'm shocked that he found me. I think the cartel's got a bigger network than the FBI. You were probably right about the license plate.”

“Or you could have been spotted at Mike's. You know he has to have a picture of you he's put out there for people to use.” Dillon cleared his throat. “Anyway, Stanton's on his way here in a chopper along with a horde of FBI agents. They should be here later this afternoon.”

FBI. Charity stifled a groan. She just hoped they were smart enough to keep a low profile and not scare Morales away.

“I just wish there was more backyard to that house instead of all those trees,” Dillon went on. “He and his crew can use them for cover when he gets ready to attack.”

“His crew? Oh, right. He doesn't have the balls to come here by himself.” She dragged her fingers through her curls. “Crap. If you could just pinpoint where he's hiding, we could take him down.”

“If I knew that, I wouldn't be on the phone talking to you. Anyway, I hate to point this out to you,” Dillon said in an amused voice, “but I'm the law here. You're just a private citizen, no matter what you did before you got here. And I'm in a holding pattern myself until the feds and Stanton get here, unless something drastic happens.”

“Drastic. Right.” She swallowed.

“Keep your gun handy. I'll use your skills if I need to, but you're the target here. I'd be a terrible law enforcement official if I let you expose yourself. Your lieutenant tells me Morales is very good at ferreting people out. I can almost guarantee you that if he's here in Saddle Wells, it's because he knows where you are. When he makes his move, we're going to be prepared. Okay?”

“This guy is cagey,” she pointed out. “And nothing frightens him. That deputy's car in the area isn't liable to scare him off. In fact, he'll probably see it as a challenge.”

“I'm aware of that. I got the word on him. But we're going to stack the deck in our favor as much as we can while we wait for him to show himself. And hopefully hold him off until the big guns get here.”

“And I'm supposed to just hide out here and wait?”

“Just like you've had other targets do in the past on cases you worked,” Dillon agreed. “But you do have an advantage. You know Morales.”

“Yes, and I can also take care of myself. I'm sure Stanton told you that. Let me come out there with you.”

“And have Liam hang my ass if something happens to you? Uh uh.”

She wanted to stamp her foot in frustration. “I was a cop for ten years, and a damn good one. Let me do what I do best. Let me show myself and draw him out.”

“Charity.” She hated the reasonable tone of his voice. “We have no idea where this guy is at the moment, and I'm not using you as bait. Liam would cut off my balls, and you know it. Be the inside man on this and defend yourself. That's where you can do me the most good.”

He was right. She knew it and couldn't argue. She'd said the same thing to others in danger over the years. But then she'd always been the one providing protection.

“Maybe you could point that out to Liam.”

His deep laugh boomed across the connection. “Nice try, but I'm not going there.”

She blew out a breath. “Okay. But I know you're going to call him next. Don't say that to him or he'll lock me in the closet.”

“He just wants to keep you safe,” Dillon reminded her.

“And I want him to be safe too.”

“Good.” He chuckled. “You can take care of each other.”

“Damn.” Hanging up, she glared at Liam, who had just come into the kitchen. “You men think you know it all. If you pat me on the head and say there, there, I swear I'll shoot off your balls.”

Automatically, one hand went to cover his junk. Then he just shook his head.

“Charity, I am not going to let you put yourself in the line of fire, so just forget it.” He turned away from her.

They'd been having this argument since he'd brought her home from Mike's and refused to let her leave the house. She couldn't make him understand that she'd been a cop for ten years, that this was what she'd done for a living. He was constantly moving her away from windows and doors, blocking her with his body if he had to.

“You think it would be better if you got shot?” she demanded. “How do you think I'd feel then?”

“Not up for discussion.”

Angry at his stubbornness, she moved her things into another bedroom, refusing to share his with him.

“I know you think you're protecting me, but you're disrespecting who and what I am. Please, Liam.”

By evening, they were still at a standoff, and Charity was getting antsy. Stanton and the feds had arrived. Her former boss had called her to tell her he was at the sheriff's office.

“And the big guns?” she asked.

“Blending in with the crowd, searching the area.”

“Blending.” She snorted. “I hope they aren't wearing their stand-issue FBI wardrobes.”

“These guys are out of the San Antonio office and know what they're doing,” he assured her. “Just keep your phone with you and hang tight.”

Hang tight. Right.

So where the hell was Morales? How long was he going to wait to make his move? This wasn't like him. He was more of the bull-in-a-china-shop type, not the kind to watch and plan. That was one of the reasons they'd finally been able to take him down.

She shared her thoughts with Dillon.

“He's in unfamiliar territory,” Dillon reminded her. “You know him better than we do. Will he jump before he's sure he has the advantage?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

She hung up, ready to jump out of her skin. She'd just gone into the kitchen to get a fresh cup of coffee when her cell rang again.

“Okay. Just got a call from one of the feds. He's been sighted in town.” Dillon's voice was hard.

“Here in Saddle Wells? I mean, in town? Where people can see him?” Charity could hardly believe it.

“Yes, and on the move. The feds are keeping track of him. Stanton and I are heading your way, but not until dark, and I'm using Jinx's car. We'll come in from the street behind you. I'm going to call Liam and let him know what's going on.”

“I'll tell him. I'm not stupid enough to keep that from him. I just don't want him to get hurt.”

There was a moment of silence. “When this is over, you guys need to have a heart-to-heart about who does what in this relationship. I know where you're coming from, but I see his point of view too.”

“Thanks a whole fucking lot.” She disconnected the call and shoved the phone roughly into her jeans pocket.

“Was that Dillon?” Liam had followed her into the kitchen.

“Uh huh. Morales is on the move.” She related everything the sheriff had told her.

Immediately, he moved her away from the window.

“He won't show up while it's still light out,” she pointed out.

“I know, but I'm still not taking any chances.”

She checked her gun again and patted the extra clip in her pocket. He watched her with narrowed eyes. She tried to read the look on his face, but all she saw was a lack of emotion. The soldier approaching battle. “Liam, I know you're a warrior and you know how to fight. But please respect who and what I am too, okay?”

They stared at each other for a long moment, then he looked around for a place she could stand without windows, a place with little exposure. That in itself was a problem, because there were a lot of windows in the house. It made for a bright place filled with light, but not a good place to hide when someone was trying to kill you.

Charity wanted to tear her hair out. Or his. There was such a thing as overdoing the protective-male thing. She took a long swallow of her coffee, which had cooled off by now. They stood there, like fighters in opposite corners of the ring, tension thicker than molasses, as outside the sun set and it got darker and darker.

She jumped when Liam's phone rang.

“Yeah? Okay.” He unlocked the back door and then looked at her. “Dillon's here.”

In a moment, the door eased open and Dillon Cross, dressed all in black, slipped into the house. Milo Stanton was right behind him. They each carried handheld radios.

Stanton took a moment to pull Charity into an embrace. “We've got your back, kiddo,” he assured her.

She introduced him to Liam who stood next to her like a guardian.

“Morales is on his way,” Dillon told them in a quiet voice. “The FBI guys are tracking him. And, yes, Charity, they know what they're doing.”

“Then why don't they just arrest him?” Liam demanded. “He's an escaped felon after all.”

“Because if we catch him in an attack on an officer of the law, we can throw life in prison on the table.”

“Even if I'm no longer active?”

Stanton's smile was positively lethal. “He doesn't know that.”

“He's got three assholes with him,” Dillon told her. “The word is they've got semiautomatics. Liam, I want to do this so your house doesn't get shot up to hell.”

Liam snorted. “How exactly do you plan to do that?”

“I've got men out there covering all sides of the house. The feds are closing in too. If we can do this with precision timing, we'll make it work.”

“You'll pardon me if I think you're dreaming,” Charity remarked. “I was in a firefight with Morales not too long ago, remember?”

“I need—” He was interrupted by the sound of his cell. He clapped it to his ear. “Yeah? Yeah? Uh huh. Okay.”

“What?” Liam asked.

“They're here. They parked down the street and they're sneaking around the back. I need to get out there.” He looked at Charity and then Liam. “Keep your guns ready, but I want both of you in here. And keep your cell phones handy.”

“Be careful,” Charity cautioned. “These guys won't hesitate to take out any neighbors who get in the way. I told you we should have done this differently.”

“We can argue about that later. Okay, hang tight.” He slipped out the back door and was gone.

Stanton remained behind with them.

“I've got this.” Liam's voice was tight and uninflected. He moved to stand in front of her, nudging her away from the door.

“Damn it, Liam, we've both got it.”

“And I've got the radio,” Stanton pointed out. At that moment the instrument crackled to life.

“They're moving in,” came Dillon's voice. “We've got enough manpower to cover all of them and round them up, hopefully without a firefight.”

But the moment the words were out, they heard shots outside, several of them followed by silence. Then the radio spat out another message.

“We've got them,” Dillon told her. “All except Morales. He wasn't with any of them, but I know he's here, so be alert.”

“I'm ready.” Stanton nodded to Liam and Charity.

“His usual style. Let the others take it on the chin. He thinks while we're all occupied and maybe letting our guard down, he'll slip in and get the real target.” He pointed at Charity. “You.”