One Tough Texan. Barb Han

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СКАЧАТЬ of cooking skills. She could, however, make one mean pot of coffee. And wasn’t that more important anyway? “The gas container you used to create a diversion earlier should be around here somewhere.”

      “Yep.”

      Great, now they were at one-word answers. She’d spent enough time around the opposite sex to know that she’d offended him, didn’t have time to care. He was alive. He could thank her later. “Think you can find it?”

      “Of course.”

      At least he was up to two words now.

      Maybe she should’ve left him back at the station. Except that she was responsible for getting him into this mess in the first place and she couldn’t let him get himself killed given that he was genuinely trying to help her. And stupidity could be deadly.

      Joshua was a liability.

      She needed to convince him just how much danger he was in and that he needed to turn himself in. There was a reason she’d saved Perez’s organization for last. People didn’t walk away after they saw him. He had no qualms about erasing a threat, real or perceived. Precisely the reason he was considered one of, if not the most ruthless criminal in the United States.

      It was getting late. The trail was a dead end now. Alice was starving and she needed to get back to her motel room to bunk down for the night while she came up with plan B. She also needed to touch base with her informant and let him know everything had gone south.

      Pushing up to her feet proved more of a challenge than she expected. She landed down on her bottom pretty darn quick with a splash.

      The cowboy was by her side in a half second, helping her to her feet.

      “I haven’t slept in a few days,” she said quickly and a little too sharply.

      “Yeah? Even Superwoman needs rest.”

      She didn’t say anything and the cowboy didn’t budge.

      “When was the last time you had a decent meal?” he asked, standing so close that her body was aware of his every breath.

      “It’s been a while. I got distracted tracking this lead,” she quipped. Exhaustion was taking a toll and she couldn’t help herself. Her tone tended toward being harsh in a situation like this. “Thanks for the hand up, by the way.”

      “No problem. You don’t have to sound like I broke your arm.”

      What? Did she? Okay, that did make her feel bad. She wasn’t trying to be a jerk.

      The cowboy chuckled as he turned and walked away.

      Oh, so he had a sense of humor. Under different circumstances, Alice might actually laugh. Searching for Isabel nonstop for the past six weeks had brought her to the brink of exhaustion. Then there were the twins. Two baby boys who had one speed...blazing. She missed her boys so fiercely it had physically hurt since she’d left home three weeks ago on a hot tip.

      Isabel Guillermo had disappeared two months before her sixteenth birthday. And it was Alice’s fault. Before that, Isabel had been placed into the foster care system. Also Alice’s fault. Because Alice had had a bad day at work, Isabel’s parents were dead. Again, Alice’s fault.

      A sweet and innocent teen’s world had shattered because a criminal got one over on Alice. Her mistake had cost Sal and Patsy Guillermo their lives. Alice should’ve been more aware.

      She shook off the reverie, focusing on the cowboy instead. Not only had he already located the canister, but he was standing perfectly still, studying her.

      Alice pulled out her cell, grateful the downpour should provide enough of a curtain between them to mask her true emotions, and covered it with her free hand to shield it from the rain.

      “We need to find another gas station,” was all she managed to say. Thinking about Isabel’s case, about the past few weeks, had her missing her boys. Her heart ached and she wanted to be with them. But what kind of mother could she ever be to them if she didn’t find Isabel?

      * * *

      “ANYONE EXPECTING YOU at home?” Alice asked the cowboy as he took his seat in the Jeep after hiking for what felt like half the night to get gas. She needed to know if she’d just put a family in danger and that’s the reason she told herself she asked. His ride wasn’t tricked out for mudding so she figured it was his commute vehicle.

      “No.”

      Why did that one word make her heart flutter?

      Ignoring it, Alice thought about her next move. Going back to get him had been impulsive and dangerous. She couldn’t afford to take unnecessary risks or rack up collateral damage. The cowboy would have to go with her to her motel room. She hoped that he remained cooperative so she could talk sense into him.

      “Where to?” He turned the key in the ignition and the engine came to life.

      “Take Highway 287 out of town,” she said, rubbing her temples.

      “Mind if I stop for food first? There won’t be anything once we leave town and it’s not like you can order pizza from The Bluff Motel.”

      “How did you know where we were going?” She snapped her head to the left to get a good look at him.

      “Not a lot of options around here.”

      Okay. Fine. He had her on that point.

      “There a drive-thru nearby?” She needed something to eat and she could always hide in the backseat so no one saw her. Perez had eyes everywhere and she didn’t want to risk anyone seeing the two of them together. No one should be looking for her, Perez or otherwise, at least not officially. Her SO had been texting for her return to work and to make sure she wasn’t interfering with a federal investigation. She hadn’t exactly broken any laws unless she counted unauthorized tampering with the National Crime Information Center—NCIC—database. As far as technicalities went, she wasn’t exactly hacking into the system. She was just doing a little side research project.

      Her stomach rumbled from hunger and her side ached. She needed to re-dress her stab wound, a gift from the last crime ring she’d infiltrated.

      “We can zip through the line in a few minutes,” he said, pulling into a burger stand parking lot.

      “Okay.” Eat. Rest. Talk the cowboy into witness protection. How hard could it be to convince someone to give up the only life they knew because of a perceived threat from a stranger?

      “And then you’ll come clean with why you’re tracking one of the most dangerous criminal organizations in the country,” the cowboy said with law enforcement authority.

       Chapter Three

      The motel room was basic but comfortable. There were two full-size beds with a nightstand in between, a small table with two chairs near a picture window, and a dresser with an old-fashioned TV. Joshua would bet money there was a bible in the top drawer. The floral pattern in this room was bluebonnets, a nod to the state flower, and they were on the curtain and both bedspreads. СКАЧАТЬ