Night Thunder (24 page)

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Authors: Jill Gregory

BOOK: Night Thunder
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“You’re anything but that. And you deserved a hell of a lot better than what that asshole did to you.”

For some absurd reason, tears threatened. She blinked them back. “I grew up with secondhand clothes, secondhand schoolbooks,” she said quietly. “I’ve always hated anything secondhand. But that’s how Doug made me feel once I learned the truth. I didn’t come first with him—and neither did his wife. He came first. His own selfish, immature whims.”

She met Ty’s gaze squarely, speaking past the lump in her throat. “I won’t ever be someone’s secondhand woman. Second choice, second best. I won’t do that to myself—not for any man.”

Her eyes sought his, and they were filled with regret— and determination. “I thought Doug loved me, that we were building something solid and good together, but it was all a lie. And I swore after I found out that I’d never let anyone use me again. I won’t be a substitute wife or girlfriend. It’s first choice, or bust. I owe myself that, Ty.”

Her words hit him like a barrage of rocks. He stared at her, his gaze narrowed. “You think that’s what I did last night? That I used you . . . as a substitute for my wife?”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying.” She shook her head as pain squeezed her heart. She couldn’t let him see how stupid she’d been. He hadn’t used her—what had happened between them had been real and powerful. But not powerful enough. He didn’t love her. He still loved Meg. He’d always love Meg. And she’d known that all along.

“I think you enjoyed last night every bit as much as I did.” She forced herself to speak lightly. To smile. “It was wonderful. But we both knew going in that there couldn’t ever be anything more. I’ve known from the beginning that you’ve never gotten over your wife’s death. Corinne told me that the first night at the Tumbleweed. So last night—well, don’t worry about it.” She shrugged. “No complications. No strings. End of story.”

Even as she said the words, she wished to heaven they were true. Yes, she’d known the situation going in—but she’d forgotten it every time Ty Barclay touched her, kissed her. She’d forgotten as soon as his hands stroked her skin, as soon as his lips took her to that hot, delicious place where common sense floated away. Somehow during these past few weeks in Thunder Creek, her heart had started responding to Ty Barclay as much as her body had. She’d opened herself up to feeling much more for him than mere attraction.

She’d been idiotic enough to fall in love with him.

“Once this business is cleared up, assuming we get out of it alive, I’m going back to Manhattan.” She spoke matter-of-factly, praying he hadn’t detected the slight tremble in her voice. “And you’re staying in Thunder Creek. But I’ll never have any regrets about last night.”

“That’s damned comforting,” he growled. His eyes had turned a dark, dangerous blue.

“What’s wrong with you? I thought you’d be relieved.”

“I am. Can’t you tell? Let’s get some lunch.”

“Don’t tell me you’re angry.”

“Why should I be? But let me get this straight, you’re saying essentially that last night meant nothing to you. Have I got that right?”

“Last night was unforgettable,” she said simply. So unforgettable that her chest was tight and she was afraid any moment that she’d start to cry. She touched his hand, lightly, then pulled back.

“And I’ll always be glad for it, even when I’m back in Manhattan charging through the rat race and you’re here catching the bad guys. But I knew it was only one night. And so did you.”

He stared at her, scowling. “Yeah. I knew you’d be going back—as soon as this deal is over.” He was reminding himself, he realized, more than her. He knew he should be relieved, but instead, he felt irritated as hell.

“Assuming you don’t end up in Sing Sing.” He opened the car door abruptly. “Let’s eat, we don’t have all day. I want to be ready to roll as soon as Roy gets here.”

They didn’t talk much over lunch. Ty’s mood had done a 180. She wasn’t sure exactly why. They lingered in silence over their coffee, killing time until they could switch cars. Josy kept glancing at her watch. Not long now and she’d be meeting Ricky. If, she told herself, nothing—and no one—got in the way.

It was another half hour before Roy arrived. He sauntered into the Country Goose Diner carrying a duffel bag.

“Here you go. Got some bottles of spring water in there, and a few beers, like you asked. And some ammo and grub. What’s this all about? Who’s following you in a copter?” he asked as he dropped into a seat next to Josy and directed his question to Ty.

Ty gave him no details. But he warned Roy to keep to the back roads on his way home to Thunder Creek and not to tell anyone what was going on.

“No problem, but are you two okay?” Roy turned to Josy, studying her in concern. “What in hell has my cousin got you involved in?”

“It’s what I’ve got him involved in.” Josy managed a wan smile. “Ty’s taking good care of me.”

“He’d better. Corinne wants the two of you at the wedding—and I don’t want anything upsetting my bride.” Despite his casual tone, there was a worried frown between Roy’s brows. “Hey, cuz, want me to hang around, come with you . . . wherever you’re going? I’m not a cop, but I watch them on TV. I know how to do backup.”

“No, thanks, Roy. Not necessary.” Ty hoped to hell he was right. He drew out his wallet to pay the lunch check. “Letting me use your car is a big help. Keeping your mouth shut about this is even bigger.”

“I hear you. Lips are sealed.”

“Thanks. All right, I need to make a pit stop,” Ty said, after paying the waitress for their lunch. “Roy, wait here with Josy, will you?”

“No need,” Josy said, realizing that a restroom visit was probably a good idea. She slipped out of her seat and headed toward the ladies’ room. There she took deep breaths, suddenly feeling that the hamburger she’d devoured was corroding her stomach. She needed to splash some water on her face, put on lipstick, calm herself down. This day was only in the early stages—she still had a long way to go.

By the time she came out, Ty and Roy were already waiting outside. Roy handed Ty the keys to his white Ford Ranger and then gave her a hug before heading to Ty’s car.

“Whatever’s going on, you two stay safe.”

He shot Ty a speaking glance and walked away.

The moment he left them, Ty took the brown-wrapped package from his jacket pocket and transferred it into the duffel bag, which he stuffed on the floor near Josy’s feet.

Time for the last leg of the journey.

A light rain began to fall as they swung back onto the main highway and headed toward the huge area of protected land known as Medicine Bow National Forest. They saw a helicopter in the distance, but it never turned their way, instead disappearing to the south.

No one appeared to be following them, though a motorcycle did pass them once, the burly young driver glancing over momentarily before he roared on ahead.

Ty’s mouth thinned into a hard line, but he said nothing, and Josy tried to relax back in her seat.

But that proved more impossible as each mile flashed by. She didn’t know what the next few hours would bring, and after last night, she knew that Dolph was capable of anything. Anything at all.

“That’s Laramie Peak up ahead. We can only take the car so far—up to a point near the campgrounds. Then we’ll have to hike it.”

“Well, so will anyone else trying to get their hands on the diamond—and on Ricky,” she said. She was staring at the sloping, pine-covered mountains, silhouetted against the murky sky. On a clear day, the view would have been breathtaking. Even today, with the sky wet and gray and a heaviness hanging in the pine-scented air, Laramie Peak was magnificent.

But she forgot all about the view and everything else when her cell phone rang. Josy jumped, then grabbed it from her handbag.

“It’s me,” Ricky said curtly. “Change of plans.”

“But we’re almost—”


We?

“I’m bringing a friend with me. Someone I trust.”

“Goddammit, Josy—”

“Last night I was attacked, Ricky,” she interrupted him. “And now they’re after me—”

“Shit! Sorry, Josy. Did they hurt you? You all right?”

“Yes, thanks to my friend—”

“Listen, this is all the more reason to switch our plan around. Forget Laramie Peak. Right now, head to Wheatland. There’s a bar a quarter mile outside of town. Slattery’s Saloon. I’ll come to you.”

He hung up without waiting for her reply. Feeling chilled, Josy looked at Ty. “Change of plans.”

“I expected as much,” Ty said drily. “That happens a lot when guys are on the run, afraid for their lives. A moving target, constantly changing direction, going serpentine, is harder to hit. Where to?”

She told him, and he grimaced, then did a U-turn toward the interstate.

“Slattery’s Saloon, huh? That place is a big-time hang-out for drug dealers and degenerates. Nice friends you’ve got, Miz Warner.”

Josy clenched her hands together. She was getting a very bad feeling about this. Ricky had been sounding less and less like himself each time she’d spoken to him.

So much had happened in the past day. Suddenly she thought of Chance. He was in the hospital, recovering from a gunshot wound. And at least one of the rustlers was doing the same. And Ty could have been back in town, in the thick of the investigation, questioning his suspects, examining evidence. Instead he was here with her.

Risking his life.

She spoke suddenly. “Whatever happens today, I want you to know—” she began, but he interrupted her with a reckless grin.

“Save it for my eulogy if I don’t make it out of Slattery’s Saloon alive.”

Ty floored the car as they zoomed onto the interstate. As if to mock his words, the sun broke through the clouds with a burst of golden promise.

Chapter 25

SLATTERY’S SALOON WAS A LONG, LOW, RAMSHACKLE building that squatted at the edge of a weed-choked dirt field on the outskirts of Wheatland.

There were only two cars parked outside, neither of which was a black Explorer like the one Dolph had been driving.
So far, so good,
Josy thought, as she got out of the pickup and watched Ty seize the duffel from the floor.

They started toward the saloon in silence. The air was eerily quiet and heady with the scent of sage. The silence was broken only intermittently by the cry of hawks wheeling through the sky. But inside her head was a rush of sound—the roaring of her own blood in her ears. Now she was finally going to get some answers—and rid herself of the damned diamond.

She only prayed she’d be able to persuade Ricky to let Ty help him, to turn himself in and work once again with the police.

The saloon was dimly lit and there were only two other patrons. A husky kid of about eighteen chewing tobacco and playing pool, and a paunchy, sour-eyed cowboy in a plaid shirt and jeans straddling a stool at the bar. Ty led the way to a round table near the dartboard. It was a few feet from the restrooms and the rear exit, and as Josy slipped into a chair, he took a seat facing the entrance, turning it slightly so he could also see the exit door.

He set the duffel down beside him as a tough-looking waitress with spiky red-streaked hair strode over to the table.

“Two Buds,” he said curtly, keeping an eye on the door.

The waitress loped off.

“Nervous?” Ty asked. But Josy never had a chance to answer him, because at that moment the door opened. She saw Ty’s gaze swivel to the entrance and turned her head in time to see Ricky slouch through the door.

He spotted them immediately and moved toward their table. As he drew closer she felt a ping of shock. Ricky’s lean, sharp face was bruised—he had a black eye, and a nasty cut across his chin. He also walked with a limp, as if he’d been kicked in the kneecap.

“Oh, God,” she murmured as he ambled up to her.

“Hey, kiddo.” He managed a tired smile as he reached her and Josy launched herself out of her seat and threw her arms around his neck.

“Are you okay?” she whispered.

“You’re asking me that? Me?” A dry laugh. “I’m asking you. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine—thanks to Ty. Ricky, what the hell is this all about?”

“It’s about some nasty guys who tried to screw me. And I tried to screw them right back.” He answered in a low tone, speaking directly to her, ignoring the dark, strapping man sitting two feet away, watching him with cop’s eyes.

“I never meant this to involve you. Things got royally screwed up, Josy, I swear. I’ll explain it all, but not now. Not
here
. I’ve gotta get outta here and so do you. Where’s the package?”

“Not so fast, buddy.” Ty spoke up softly, but his voice was as cold and hard as a slab of granite.

Ricky’s smile faded. He drew back from Josy and glared at the other man.

“Who’s this guy, Jo-Jo?”

“The name’s Ty Barclay.” Ty didn’t extend his hand. “Sheriff Barclay,” he added, watching the other man’s face.

“You brought a cop?”
Anger whistled through Ricky’s low, strained voice.

“He’s a friend first, and a cop second,” she said quickly, praying like hell it was true. “Come on, Ricky, sit down. We have to talk.”

“Are you crazy?”

“He’s not going to arrest you,” she said, slipping into her own seat as Ricky sank down, scowling, on a chair. “He and I have a deal. He’s trying to protect me and to help you. Ricky, I need you to tell me, where did you get that diamond?”

“Shit, Josy. Keep your voice down. So you unwrapped it, huh? And then you told him about it?” He glowered at her, and Ty leaned forward, a hard light entering his eyes.

“She told me enough to know you’re in way too deep to keep running.”

“I can run as long as I need to, Sheriff.” Ricky’s tone was as hostile as Ty’s.

“Maybe. But you’d damn well better give Josy an explanation for why the hell you involved her in something like this.”

“You think I wanted to involve her?” Ricky snapped. “It was supposed to go down a completely different way.”

“And Archie wasn’t supposed to die, either, was he?” Ty said.

Ricky’s skin turned a little grayer. “What’d you do, blab the whole thing to him? Jesus, I thought I could trust you.”

He shook his head at her and Josy felt herself flushing. But for the first time, anger burst through her.

“Ricky, some goon nearly killed me last night. I’ve been involved in a murder—I watched a man die while I was standing right next to him—” Her voice broke, but she recovered it after a moment and continued more strongly. “I’ve had to hide out for my life, leave my job, my friends—”

“Well, you made some new ones, didn’t you?”

She stared at him. “What’s happened to you? You’re different.”

His laugh was so jaded, so full of cynicism, it made her shiver. “Life happened to me, Jo-Jo. I did my job and I tried to get the bad guys, and look what happened. They set me up. And you know why they were able to get away with it? Because another cop—a precinct captain, some asshole named Becker—was in the back pocket of the man calling the shots.”

“All the more reason you need to go back. Ty and I will help you. There has to be some evidence to—”

“Not anymore—Becker got rid of it first thing.”

“If you’re telling the truth, there’s other ways of verifying it. Running away isn’t the answer.”

“Yeah? I didn’t think so either, until I realized that these guys are a lot bigger than little old me. And they have a lot of money to throw around, a lot of people working for them. Sometimes you gotta fight, kid, and sometimes you gotta run.”

“And the diamond?” Josy asked quietly. “What was that for? To help you run?”

“Yeah. Insurance. If I couldn’t prove my case and I was going down, I needed enough money to get out of the country and live wherever the hell I wanted—so long as it was someplace with no extradition.” He shot Ty an ice-cold frown. “I’ve got a buyer lined up, ready to pay me a fortune once I deliver the diamond. Good thing, too, because my case is a lost cause. I don’t know how many people Tate and Becker paid off, but the evidence I had is long gone, and now it’s my word against theirs. You tell me, who’s a judge going to believe?”

“Internal investigations is checking it out,” Josy protested. “Shouldn’t you wait and give them a chance to—”

“Josy, I wanted to wait. I wasn’t planning to run at first, but then . . . oh, hell. I can’t explain it all now. Just give me the diamond and this will all be over.”

“It’s not that easy.” Ty’s gaze bored into Ricky. His voice was pure flint. “Your pals found Josy. She’s in danger until you turn yourself in, until they know for certain they can’t get the diamond back.”

“Once I’m gone—with the diamond—they’ll leave her alone,” Ricky snapped.

“Who’d you steal it from? Caventini? Or Tate?” Ty prodded.

Ricky studied the other man a moment, as if evaluating his determination, then apparently realized he wasn’t about to be put off. He shrugged.

“From Tate. He’s the one pulling the strings. He’s as bad as Caventini, maybe worse. And Becker is zipped up tight in Tate’s thousand-dollar Gucci pocket. Tate’s a fanatic collector—he’s got a treasure room in that Southampton mansion of his that you wouldn’t believe. It’s got a secret door, security cameras, the works. There’s art in there, jewelry, antique weapons, you name it. All of it is rare and some of it’s priceless. And most of it’s stolen.”

“Including this diamond?” Josy whispered.

Ricky nodded. “He stole it from a Peruvian drug dealer who made a fortune and hired someone else to steal it from a legitimate private collector. For some of these guys, the millions, the houses, the cars aren’t enough— they want more possessions, they want what no one else in the world has, things that no one else can ever touch or even see. Tate is like that. I stumbled onto him during my investigation into Caventini and started connecting some dots. But as soon as his name turned up in one of my reports to my contact—bingo. Everything went haywire.”

Ricky shifted restlessly in his chair, like a man unaccustomed to staying in one spot too long. He glanced over his shoulder at the doorway before continuing. “Caventini tried to have me killed, and I knew the gig was up, but when I turned over my evidence and wanted protection, Becker suddenly claimed I’d gone over to the other side. They framed me but good, Josy.”

Hunching over the table, Ricky spoke even faster. “I needed a backup plan in case I couldn’t prove my innocence. And that included the means to get out of the country, somewhere none of them could find me. To make that happen, I needed the diamond.”

“Not to mention that stealing the rock was going to be a poke in the eye to Tate,” Ty remarked. “Am I right?”

“Damn straight.” Ricky smacked his fist softly on the table, revealing bruised knuckles. “And I had it planned perfectly. I had no problem bypassing their security system all to hell, but there was one little hitch. Tate and his wife and kids were supposed to be in their villa in Cancún for a whole month when I took the diamond. I figured by the time he came back and found out it was missing, I’d either have hit on a way to prove I’d been set up, or I’d be long gone.” His eyes shone dark as a wolf’s in the dim light of the saloon.

“But the bastard came back early—one of his kids got sick and they wanted him checked out in the States. He found out only five days after I took it that the diamond was gone and it didn’t take him longer than a New York minute to figure out who was responsible.”

“So this guy who’s after Josy works for Tate?”

“Describe him to me.” Ricky turned to Josy.

“He’s huge—six foot two or three, shaved head, sharp features, eyes like an arctic lake. He likes knives—”

“Dolph,” Ricky interrupted her. “He’s Tate’s number one guy. Shit, did he hurt you?” He peered at her intently all of a sudden, and for a moment, Josy saw the old Ricky there—the Ricky who had looked out for her all those years ago.

“Not too badly,” she mumbled, aware that her hair hid the scratch Dolph had put on her ear.

“But he’d have done a lot worse if not for Ty.” Her hands were clenched, her nails digging into her palms. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about Archie.”

“Yeah. Archie.” Ricky rubbed his neck. “Don’t you think I feel bad too?”

“How was he involved in all this?” Ty asked, his gaze still trained on the other man’s beat-up face.

“He used to be an informant of mine.” Ricky’s lips twisted. “He was this decent kid who’d been hanging with creeps. Hanging on the sidelines kind of stuff. After he started snitching for me, I tried steering him in another direction. He got a job at a community center, then decided to take some paramedic classes—you know the drill. The kid was actually turning his life around. When I found out Tate had come back early and knew the diamond was gone, I knew I needed to get it out of your hands fast, Josy. I was too far away to get it myself, but I set up the meet with Archie at his uncle’s place so you’d at least be out of it. I never dreamed they’d be on to you so soon. These guys . . .”

He shook his head. “They’ve got too much to lose— they don’t fool around.”

“Then it’s time you stopped doing just that,” Ty said curtly.

“You mean turn myself in? I’d be dead in forty-eight hours. Becker’s men caught up to me once—after Josy ran. How do you think I got these bruises? They wanted Josy—and the diamond. After they worked me over for a while I gave them a false lead, and while they were checking it out, I managed to get away. Next time, Barclay, I won’t be that lucky. So next time . . . it ain’t gonna happen. I’m outta here.”

Ricky eyed the duffel bag. “Is it in there, or is that a decoy?”

“It’s there,” Josy replied, but as he reached for the bag, she touched his arm. “Ricky, you said before there’s a time to fight and a time to run. So think about this again— it really is your time to fight. You have me on your side— and Ty.”

“Josy, come on. A hick sheriff from Nowhere Creek?”

She glared at him, but Ty looked unperturbed.

“He happens to be a former Philadelphia police detective—who’s been decorated—and he has friends at the NYPD. If you go back with me—with
us
—if you let us call in the authorities, we’ll make sure you get a fair hearing. If all three of us go in together and tell everything we know, surely someone will listen. Every officer in internal affairs can’t be under Becker’s thumb—”

“Maybe you’re willing to take that chance but I’m not!”

Suddenly, even as he spoke the words, Ricky made a grab for the duffel, but Ty moved faster, jerking it out of his reach. In that instant, the doors to the saloon burst open and a dark-complexioned man with long wiry black hair and a face like a ferret crashed inside, a second man with crew-cut red hair close behind him. Both carried guns, and the moment they spotted Josy, Ty, and Ricky across the room, they started shooting.

Ty was already dragging Josy down below the table before Ricky yelled, “Get down!”

Shots exploded through the saloon. Ty knocked the table onto its side and ducked down behind it along with Josy, drawing his revolver and returning fire. Ricky was shooting too, as the other men dove for the floor and rolled, while the waitress, the kid at the pool table, and the paunchy cowboy all scrambled behind the bar.

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