Kansas Nights [Kansas Heat 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (5 page)

“I might have gotten some directions along the way.”

“And apparently you developed a new annoying habit along the way, or were you ordered to avoid answering any direct questions?”

Collin smiled. Irritating Jack had always tickled him, and he couldn’t seem to stop himself from indulging in the impulse. “I was ordered to be discreet and subtle, sort of the opposite of you.”

“Hardy, har, har.” Jack snorted before glancing back at his truck with the kind of pathetic sadness only a defeated man had. “It’s not even my truck, but it still didn’t deserve this.”

“We could hold a memorial service,” Collin offered. “Give the truck a proper good-bye before we send it to the garbage heap.”

That was one obnoxious comment too far. Collin knew it the instant the vein in Jack’s forehead bulged out as his face flushed with color. Still the big man managed to hold on to his temper and issue one final warning.

“Look, Collin, I’m tired, I feel like crap, and I need a shower. I’m not in the mood to play, so why don’t you just tell me what the bosses want and why they felt the need to send a personal messenger?”

Collin sighed before he slid off the hood of his truck. Things could be going better, but they weren’t going as bad as he’d feared. Of course now they might take a dive for the worse. There wasn’t any getting around it, and when Jack got impatient, it was best not to try.

“Are you asking about your bosses or mine?”

That brought the scowl back to Jack’s features. “Are they different?”

“As of about three months ago.” Collin gave Jack a moment to digest that bit of information. That was more than Jack needed to start cussing.

“You dipshit, what the fuck did you do? Have a midlife crisis? Dumped your wife and quit your job so you could go do what? Oh, crap,” Jack spat in utter disgust. “Don’t tell me you work for Amos now?”

“‘Work for’ would be a loose interpretation at this moment.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Collin. Amos sent you down here, didn’t he? You’re here to sit on me, aren’t you?”

“That’s what I always liked about you, Jack. You’re a smart man”—Collin paused to cast a glance at the tailgate—“except maybe when it comes to women.”

Maybe he’d taunted Jack one too many times, because the air went cold around Collin as Jack stiffened up. “And Cecelia? Wasn’t she your moment of brilliance?”

“Apparently not.” Collin offered Jack another shrug, hiding his pain and guilt beneath that dismissive gesture.

“And that’s all you have to say?”

“No.” Collin lifted his gaze to confront Jack with his own brutal accusation. “I might have gotten rolled over by a six-foot Brazilian goddess, but you, on the other hand, got played by a pint-size librarian.”

“She didn’t play me,” Jack corrected. “I just…drank a little too much.”

“Now who’s spreading manure?” Collin wouldn’t let Jack duck out of this one with such a lame excuse. “Like I don’t know you can drink a whole fifth of whiskey and not get
that
drunk? Face it, the woman slipped you a mickey. That makes you—played.”

“She did not slip me anything,” Jack snapped. “It was just…”

“Just?”

“Rum.”

“Rum?”

“I drink whiskey.” Jack stated what Collin knew to be fact. “Sometimes it’s scotch. Maybe, occasionally, I take shot of vodka or tequila, but never, ever rum.”

“And never, ever again, right?” Collin smirked.

“Go on and laugh it up, funny boy,” Jack jeered, showing Collin a cold shoulder. “I got work to do.”

“Yeah?” Collin didn’t budge, not about to go chasing after Jack. Instead, he just hollered after him. “And does that include calling in to let headquarters know you just fucked your prime subject’s close friend?”

“I did not have sex with that woman!”

“Really?” Lifting a brow, Collin cocked his head as he pinned Jack with a pointed look. “So she doesn’t have a blue dress hidden somewhere that’s going to be your undoing, does she?”

Collin tensed as Jack’s fingers curled into large fists. He didn’t want to have to go toe-to-toe with his old buddy, mostly because he wasn’t sure if he’d win. There had been some truth to Collin’s comment about fat asses. While he might not actually have one, he wasn’t in the kind of shape Jack was in either. Thankfully, though, Jack managed to hold his temper. Instead he confronted Collin with nothing more than a harsh whisper.

“You going to out me?”

“I don’t report to them anymore, but Amos…” Collin paused to consider where his loyalties lay. It was a question that had bothered him since Amos had approached him. Right then there was only one answer that would be useful.

“Amos might be developing some objections about continuing to play along with the government’s deception.” Collin didn’t back down from Jack’s intimidating heft, but held firm as his old friend tried to glare him into the ground. “Your involvement with Kathy would probably heighten his concerns.”

“So you’re down here looking after Amos’s concerns?” Jack snickered and shook his head. “Explains why you’re being such a smartass.”

It had been a long time since anybody had called him that. Back in the days when Collin had hung with Jack, it had pretty much been his first name. Jack had even been known to call him Mr. Smartass. Collin had kind of missed the endearment.

“Okay, fine.” Jack straightened up, giving Collin a stern look. “You want to know what the deal is? Bullets are flying. People are dying. Don’t be one. Go. Home. Collin.”

Collin waited until Jack had turned and started to strut off before responding, enjoying making Jack yo-yo back to him. “Sure thing, boss, but you know you’re not exactly the only thing on my to-do list. Don’t worry, though. I’m pretty good at dodging lead.”

“I know your cockiness has always outpaced your skill.” Not amused or smug, Jack laid down that insult in the menacing-cop tone Collin had seen him use to intimidate any number of hardened criminals. It failed, though, to impress Collin.

“You know me so well, man. You know where I’m headed next?” Collin didn’t bother to hide his grin despite Jack’s deepening scowl. “It’s been a long time since I had a librarian.”

Jack’s fists reappeared, but once again he managed to hold them in check. It was close this time. The wealth of emotion ground into Jack’s growl told Collin that. “Do not drag Kathy into this.”

“Excuse me?” Collin chuckled, truly amazed by Jack’s response. “Didn’t she kind of force her way in?”

“I mean it, Collin. Kathy Coben is crazy enough to try and get involved in this disaster. Don’t encourage her or I
will
hurt you.”

Collin believed Jack would, too, which didn’t make a lick of sense. Jack didn’t care about the women he screwed. That made his interest in Kathy suspect. Collin could believe the impossible, that Jack actually felt something other than lust for Kathy. Or he could go with the probable, that Kathy was important to Jack’s case.

Either way, she was leverage.

“I have to get my answers somewhere.” Collin smiled as Jack’s features hardened at that taunt, but the big man responded with the reasonableness Collin expected. It just took Jack a moment to loosen his jaw enough to speak.

“Fine. You got a place?”

“A hotel room.” Collin paused to smirk before adding, “Down by a shady tree.”

“Oh, God,” Jack groaned. “Please tell me you didn’t rent—”

“Yep.” Collin nodded. “Still got the bloodstains on the floor.”

“You’re sick, man.”

“And you stink of booze,” Collin shot back, unrepentant. “Come on. You can at least get a shower and we can talk freely.”

“Fine, but you’re driving. I don’t want anybody catching my truck over there.”

* * * *

A half hour later Jack found himself standing in the middle of a shabby motel room still painted with blood splatters and blackened fingerprints. The local and state police had gone over this room so well there weren’t supposed to be any surprises left. Apparently, though, Collin had arranged for one more.

Turning, Jack looked over the small room one more time before pinning Collin with a hard look. Collin didn’t break under his glare, but settled deeper into his seat. Crossing his arms in a defiant gesture, the smug bastard grinned back at Jack. Jack tried to wait it out, knowing Collin’s silent game, but as usual Jack’s patience couldn’t last half as long as Collin’s.

“Where are my clothes?”

“Oh, they kind of smelled rank, so I dumped them in the laundry.” Collin offered him as innocent a smile as Jack had ever seen on an infant’s face. Jack knew better than to trust that look.

“You
stole
them while I was showering.”

Jack should have known what was up when Collin insisted he take a shower before they talked. Not that he normally obeyed his friend, but Jack had felt kind of skuzzy. Considering he’d be late getting back to the ranch no matter what, he’d figured he might as well show up clean. Not that anybody could get honestly clean in a hellhole like The Shade Tree Motel, but at least he didn’t stink of booze anymore. Unfortunately he only had a towel protecting him from the filth all around him. If he didn’t pull on some clothes soon, he just might catch something, not to mention The Shade Tree Motel was too rough for him to feel comfortable being naked. At least he had his gun.

“I didn’t steal anything.” Collin had the acting ability to make that lie sound sincerely indignant. “I
thought
I was helping out a friend.”

Jack snorted at that, considering how much trouble he’d be in if he shot Collin. Probably not much, but it would make a mess of his case. Given last night, Jack didn’t need any more problems being added to his pile. He could, however, do with sorting out a few, starting with clothes.

“Well, give me something to wear then.”

“Sorry,” Collin offered, looking anything but. “Figured I might as well get the most out of my fifty cents and added mine to the machine.”

More like Collin knew Jack couldn’t go anywhere without pants. In the hopes of getting a pair out of his former friend, Jack decided to play along with Collin’s game. Pulling out the second chair at the small, rickety table tucked into the corner, he made damn sure the towel covered his ass before he settled down on the gold-and-purple embroidered cushion. With his elbows tilting the uneven tabletop in his direction, Jack met Collin’s smirk head-on.

“What are you doing, man? Aren’t these games kind of beneath you?”

“Who’s playing?” Collin retorted. “Not me. Maybe your librarian—”

“
She’s not mine
.”

“—but not me.” Collin shook his head, ignoring Jack’s snarled outburst. “I’m dead serious, Jack. I’m here for one reason and one reason only—to monitor the situation.”

“And that’s why you checked into this room, so you could be seen?”

“No, I checked into this room because Amos told me to.” Collin corrected Jack’s snide assumption. “He wanted pictures and samples of everything.”

“This room is supposed to be secured.”

“Lots of things are
supposed
to be secure. That doesn’t mean they are.”

The tenor of Collin’s tone deepened, but Jack didn’t want to look too hard at the meaning in his old partner’s words. Instead he chose to take Collin’s smart retort at face value and respond with his own customary disapproval.

“You know better than to cross police tape, and don’t tell me about how much it costs to bribe the clerk into removing the tape so you didn’t have to cross it.”

“If it makes you feel better, Amos just wanted verification of what was in the reports he has,” Collin offered.

“No, that doesn’t make me feel better.” It actually made Jack feel a hell of a lot worse and whole lot more like pounding on Collin’s smug face. “How the hell did Amos get any reports on this matter?”

“Because I guess you have a leak.” Collin paused, taking a breath before adding to that obnoxious observation. “Actually you have something worse than a leak, but you already know that, don’t you?”

Jack stiffened up, his arms flooding with real tension as his temper flared instantly. “And just what is that supposed to mean?”

“Money runners don’t stay in dives like this.” Collin glanced over at the bloodstains decorating the room. “They certainly don’t bring millions to a place like this. Of course you boys were hoping he’d bring that money to you, weren’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jack’s denial lacked the weight of conviction. Instead his words sounded as honest as the lies they were. Collin treated them as such, completely ignoring Jack’s rejection.

“It was a good plan. The money is shipped via semis. Their routes are controlled by the runner, so whoever controls him controls the money.”

Collin simplified the matter, but he had the basics right. They’d brought the runner in with every intention of having him turn those trucks to a destination of their choosing. It was such an obvious move, somebody else had thought of it, too.

“This is a nice bedtime story, Collin, but it’s daylight and I have things to do.” He also had things he never did and sharing facts about a current case was one of them. That didn’t mean Jack couldn’t take this opportunity to antagonize Collin into spilling his guts.

“Fine. No bullshit.” Collin held his hands up in surrender. “We know that Marco Soto, a money runner for the Medina Cartel, was taken into custody and placed in a safe house, no doubt to be protected while you guys flipped him, but that’s not what happened. Is it?” If it had been anybody other than Collin sitting across the table, Jack would have already had him in cuffs and down in an interrogation room. Then again, only Collin would have caught him pantless.

They’d been marine recruits together on Paris Island down in South Carolina, but not friends. Jack, a hard-ass from the hustle and con of the New Jersey boardwalks, hadn’t found Collin’s, a joker from the onion fields of Nobody-Gives-A-Shit, Georgia, smart-ass attitude amusing in the slightest. Hell, he’d pretty much hated Collin the moment he’d burped up that low-tone, Southern drawl. Jack’s distaste had fueled the competition that had sprung up between them and lasted most of their time in boot camp.