Collision Course (11 page)

The
range was pretty basic but had enough resources to serve the needs of anyone
who would need it. Two shooting stands were set up for small firearms, two for
rifles and/or shotguns and at the far end stood a pair of setups for skeet
shooting. A small building served as the combined office and store.

“Haven’t
I seen you at the Half ’n’ Half?” the tall man behind the counter asked.

Trey
nodded. “Yes. I’m, uh, trying to write a book, and it’s a good place to hang
out. What with the Wi-Fi and all,” he added.

“Sounds
like it.” The man held out his hand. “Ira Willoughby.”

“T.J.
Buck.” The name still sounded strange to him.

“Doing
research out here for your book?” Ira asked.

“Nope.
Getting in a little practice so I don’t get rusty.” He needed to cut the
conversation without calling attention to himself by being unfriendly.
Don’t
piss off the locals.
Belatedly he thought to add, “And my, uh, hero is a
sheriff’s deputy in a town kind of like Connelly. So yeah, I guess maybe it’s a
little research.”

“Sheriff’s
deputy? You don’t say. Maybe Casey McIntyre can give you a few tips. For your
research, I mean.”

Okay,
now he had her full name, the woman who made his testosterone level surge
dangerously high. But…

“And
she’d know because…?”

“She’s a
volunteer deputy. When she’s not helping out her folks.”

Trey
leaned on the counter. “What else does she do?”

“You’ll
have to ask her yourself. I think I’ve rambled enough already. Five bucks to
shoot including two paper targets. Extras are a dollar each.”

Trey dug
out his wallet. “You sell ammo here, too, right?”

Ira
nodded. “Most standard kinds. No place else around here to get it unless you
order in bulk like the sheriff does.” He took Trey’s money and rang it up.
“Good shooting.”

“Thanks.”

He had
finished his second clip when he heard a feminine voice behind him.

“I
didn’t know you were a shooter.”

Startled,
he turned. Both heat and shock sizzled through him when he saw Casey standing
there with a gun bag in her hand. The same heat that blasted him the minute he
laid eyes on her raised his level of testosterone way above the danger level.
And shock that he’d run into her here at the gun range. None of the women he
knew had even a nodding acquaintance with firearms. Fashion, yes. Guns, no.

“I could
say the same,” he told her.

She
stared at him for a moment, an indefinable expression on her face, as if he’d
caught her at something. Then it was gone and he figured he’d imagined it. She
dropped her bag on the table next to his and began removing her gear.

“You’re
the last person I expected to see out here,” she told him. “Especially so early
in the morning. Are you doing research for your book?”

“I
thought I’d be alone out here.” Trey hadn’t meant to sound curt but somehow the
words came out with an unmistakable abruptness. He slammed the full clip into
place and racked the slide on his gun. “Sorry. Just wondering why everyone
thinks whatever I do has to be for the book. This is Texas. I thought shooting
was the state pastime.”

Casey’s
soft laugh drifted over his nerves like music. “You’d think. Anyway, you’re not
from Texas and I guess, well, I didn’t think…Oh, hell. Let’s go ahead and
shoot.”

He’d
made her uncomfortable and that was the last thing he wanted to do. He
couldn’t, however, keep from running his gaze over her toned body. Jeans molded
themselves to her nicely rounded ass and the soft fabric of her t-shirt
caressed her breasts the way his hands itched to. His cock decided to make
itself known, hardening and lengthening and pressing against the denim of his
fly with some urgency.

He
ground his teeth. He couldn’t get involved with someone here, especially
someone he couldn’t even tell his real name. If he got lucky with his research,
he’d be gone before long, taking his information to Max Rider and himself out
of the equation. But damn it, something between them had crackled from the
moment she’d served him his first cup of coffee and it hadn’t decreased in
intensity. If he didn’t get himself under control, he’d be in big trouble.

However,
unless he misread the signs, she battled the same feelings. He caught her
stealing glances at him as she loaded her clips, the tension running through
her body evident in her movements.

“We
should alternate,” she told him. “That way there’s no danger of accidents.”

“Agreed.”
He gestured toward her. “Ladies first.” He needed the time to pull himself
together so he didn’t embarrass himself. After all, he hadn’t practiced for
some time.

She gave
him one last glance, moved up to the line fifteen feet from her target, took
aim and fired in three-shot bursts. Trey had to admire her. She was steady,
accurate and not afraid of her weapon. He wondered idly how old she’d been when
she started handling a gun.

He took
in the sculpted line of her arms as they held out the gun, her long legs as she
braced herself in a shooting stance. He couldn’t take his eyes from her as she
fired again and again. When she’d emptied her clip, she walked to the table and
nodded to him.

“Your
turn, sport.” Her lips curved in a teasing grin and heat shot through him.
“Let’s see what you’ve got.”

I can
do this. I will not embarrass myself in front of her.

Hah!
Big words, tough guy.

But the
moment he slammed the clip into place, walked up to the line and took his
shooting stance, muscle memory and training took over and all the instruction
he’d had returned to him. By the time he’d emptied the clip, he had respectable
holes in his target. Not as good as Casey’s, but enough so he didn’t have to
hang his head.

“Not
bad,” she told him. “I have to say I’m impressed. Who taught you?”

He
shrugged. “An instructor at a firing range. He’s ex-Delta Force.”

“He did
an excellent job. Where’s the range?”

“Up
north,” he said, deliberately vague then wondering if even that gave up too
much information.

Casey
studied him for a moment then focused on her gun. “Hey, doesn’t matter to me. I
shouldn’t be asking you questions anyway. I hated when people pump me for
information. Your life is your own.”

He felt
compelled to say something. “Like I told you, I’m making some changes in my
life. I’ve kind of been wandering from place to place, trying to find the right
setting to work.”

“And you
decided on Connelly?”

“It’s…comfortable
here.”
And no place where Bennett or his associates would think I’d be. I
hope.

“Good.
Well, we’ll do our best at the Half ’n Half to make sure you stay comfortable.”

She
tacked up a new target and took her stance again. Okay, he got the message.
Conversation was over. Fine with him. He couldn’t let her be a distraction.
Forcing everything else from his mind, he focused on what he’d come here to do.
By the time he’d used up two boxes of bullets, he’d become more relaxed in his
ability to use the weapon. He’d never be a crack shot like Casey but he just
needed to be able to shoot straight enough to defend himself. If and when the
time came.

“I’m
curious,” he said as they cleaned up their gear. “Where did
you
learn to
shoot like that? I’d always heard guns were a way of life in Texas and I guess
it’s true.”

She
averted her gaze, concentrating on packing her bag, as she answered him. “I
spent some time with the FBI plus four years in the Army.” The words sounded as
if they left a bad taste in her mouth. She shouldered her bag. “Well, I’ve
enjoyed the competition but I have to get to work.”

Trey
felt as if a wall had dropped between them. He had the distinct feeling he’d touched
a raw spot and he had no idea why.

“Yeah.
See you in a while.”

She gave
him a half-hearted wave as she walked away and climbed into her truck.

Trey
stood there for a long moment, watching her drive away. The woman was a puzzle.
He wondered why her history seemed so…distasteful to her. There was no other
word for it. As if she wished those years hadn’t existed. And why, with all her
training and experience, did she spend her days working at the Half ’n Half,
even if her parents did own it?

Did she
date? Have a relationship with anyone in town, the place where she’d grown up?

None
of my business.

He
needed to keep that in mind. If he let himself be distracted…well, he didn’t
even want to go there.

Okay.
Time to get on with the business of the day.

Chapter Six

They met
in Mexico, at Tobias Serrano’s luxurious mountainside villa. El-Salaki had once
again been the one to demand the gathering, and Bennett refused to have them
come to his own home. Or anywhere in the States. Photographers hid everywhere
and his enemies would be more than happy to find a chink in his armor and widen
it.

On the
flight down, he’d kept asking himself how the fuck he’d gotten into such a
situation. He’d started out with such ideals. Developing BGE had taken grit and
hard work, and a lot of capital he didn’t always have. But he’d managed and
received a lot of press as an aggressive, knowledgeable businessman. Press he’d
gobbled up, that fed his ego. Maybe a little too much.

The
night he’d met Serrano at the home of one of the wealthiest Mexicans, he had
been in throes of a temporary cash flow problem. It astonished him to discover
the drug lord knew as many intimate details about him as he did. And about his
business. Serrano slipped his need to have cargo shipped to another part of the
world into the conversation. He offered to pay a premium price if Bennett could
arrange to circumvent inspections.

Oh, yes,
Bennett had learned fast whose hands to grease. He also knew not to ask for
details about the cargo. And so it began. One thing led to another and as the
cash flow increased from a stream to a river, BGE grew exponentially. He
established himself as a philanthropist and foundations courted him. National
and international business groups sought him to address their conventions and high
level meetings. Soon invitations came to him from the White House, from
palaces, to attend parties where the cream of the crop made up the guest list.

He
basked in his success, even as the methods he used to run his empire got
dirtier and dirtier. In the beginning, riding a fine edge of danger excited
him. Even when El-Salaki became the third leg of the triumvirate, his
excitement grew. He was in high company in both his public life and the one
hidden from the rest of the world.

So when
had it begun to wear on him?

Maybe as
he aged and grew more tired. Maybe when his previous executive vice president
had stumbled over damning evidence and had to be eliminated. Which made his
leaving the secure phone out an even worse lapse on his part. Too many balls in
the air. Too much to juggle. Now, because he’d lost his edge, Trey Haggerty, a
man he thought of as a son, topped his hit list.

He tuned
out the insignificant conversation between Serrano and El-Salaki and gazed out
the enormous picture window filling most of a large wall. The spectacular view
took in the mountains covered with lush foliage and the thick fields of poppies
they shielded. How nice to grow your product where you could see it every day.

In the
courtyard right outside the window, three children played under the watchful
gaze of a nanny. The scene could have been one at any other home except for the
armed guards standing as sentinels, constantly scanning for trouble.

Bennett
had never married. Maybe if he had, his life would have taken a different turn.
At least he’d have someone to help cushion the blow he expected to fall at any
moment. But he’d never found a woman he’d felt he could trust with his secrets
and without trust there could be no relationship. He would be on edge every
minute, worried he’d blurt something in his sleep or his wife would ask
questions about the wrong people.

Drinks
were served by a silent old man in tan pants and a flowered shirt who then
bowed and moved noiselessly from the room. The three conspirators sipped at
their drinks, no one speaking, each of them eyeing the other.

At last
Serrano broke the silence. “I can’t believe one man with no experience could
disappear as if swallowed up by a whale.”

“He’s an
exceptional man,” Bennett pointed out.

El-Salaki
snorted. “Too smart for his own good, it seems.”

“Anyway,
today everyone watches television,” Bennett added. “Even an idiot can figure
out how to disappear. Get a new identity. Make himself invisible.”

“Damn
it, Bennett.” Serrano pounded his fist on the arm of his chair. “We can’t
simply brush it off. You act like we have all the time in the world but I’m not
willing to put myself at risk because you have a loose cannon rolling around
out there. I’ve spent too many years building my situation. My position in the
world.” He waved at the view through the window. ”I won’t let someone destroy
it now. Maybe you just no longer have the stomach for what we do.” He shifted
his gaze to El-Salaki. “Maybe we need to eliminate more than Mr. Haggerty.”

Bennett
stared at both men as his stomach knotted and a rivulet of sweat snaked down
his spine.

“This
isn’t helping us,” El-Salaki pointed out. “We don’t have time to fight amongst
ourselves. We need to solve the problem. Tell us again, Charles, in detail,
what you’ve done to find him. He can’t ride busses forever. I’m assuming he
must have purchased transportation. Any other kind of travel requires
identification. So what have you checked?”

”First
of all,” Bennett prefaced, “you know I have to be careful how I handle things.
Very careful. Unlike the two of you, everything I do is always under scrutiny.”