Son of a Gun (27 page)

“I told Delaney you’d insist on that. He didn’t like it, but he gave in on that one point.”

“I’ll move part of the security staff I hired to the condo, as well,” Damien said.

Adrenaline had Damien’s heart pumping like crazy as he went to find Emma. She’d be upset that she was bringing danger to the ranch, but she’d go along with the CIA’s plan as long as it meant Caudillo’s reign of terror might just possibly be about to come to an end.

* * *

EMMA PLANTED KISSES ON Belle’s sweet cheeks and the top of her head before she handed her to Carolina. The agents were waiting impatiently to take her off to a safe house.

“I don’t understand half of what’s going on,” Carolina lamented, “but we’ll take good care of Belle.”

Emma hugged Carolina and then told the rest of the family goodbye, saving Damien for last.

She slipped into his arms. “I’d rather stay with you.”

“I know, but this will all be over soon and then I’ll hang around until you’re sick of me.”

“Be careful, Damien. Please, just be careful.”

“Always.”

“No heroics, cowboy.”

“No heroics. The CIA is here to handle that.”

He kissed her goodbye and then she stepped away and slid into the backseat of the black sedan.

She felt as if spiked bricks were being pushed into her chest as the car pulled away and headed down the ranch road, leaving Damien behind.

She’d known from the first she’d end up putting Damien and his family in danger. No one ever won against Caudillo. No one ever would.

* * *

AS IT TURNED OUT, BOTH Damien and Durk stayed at the ranch while Tague as the youngest drew condo security duty.

“I guess Delaney figured you needed to be here to keep me in line,” Damien said as they saddled a couple of horses.

“No. I just made my point that the Lambert brothers always work as a team.”

It had always been that way. But that was when Damien believed that he actually was a Lambert. He forced himself to push past the anger that lurked just beneath the surface of his control. “So what’s going on with the Nashville end of the Caudillo operation?”

“No one in the Nashville office except the very highest in the pecking order knows anything about the operation,” Durk said. “It’s expected that when the leak hits the news networks sometime today, the office will be buzzing.”

“Will Delaney be there?”

“He, a half-dozen agents and one of the muckety-mucks at the top will be in the security offices, where they can scan cameras set up in the halls. They’ll be able to see anyone who comes and goes into any office.”

They climbed into the saddles and let the horses gallop full speed before slowing them to a walk near Beaver Creek. The same spot where he’d found Emma on Friday night. Now he was waiting and praying that the monster she’d escaped actually would show up at Bent Pine Ranch. Damien had never killed a man before, but he was certain he could pull the trigger and put a bullet though Caudillo’s heart if it came to that.

It was unlikely that it would. The CIA agent in charge had ordered them to stay out of the way, but he had promised to alert them the second Caudillo was spotted at the ranch. If he was spotted.

“Thanks for hanging around,” Damien said. “I’m glad for the company.”

“One for all, and all for one. That’s the Lambert code.”

And there it was again. It was all about being a Lambert. Damien stared at the pastures that stretched out in front of him. Not just a ranch, but a legacy that should never have fallen to him. He could keep his silence about the issue no longer.

“I’m not actually a Lambert.”

“I know what you mean,” Durk said. “I’m ready to deny kin sometimes myself, and I’m only here weekends. Who’s getting to you? Mother? Sybil? Grandmother?”

“I’m serious, Durk. I’m adopted.”

“Right. And I’m running for president.”

“I’m not joking.”

Durk stared at him as if he’d grown horns and a tail.

Damien explained the situation, starting with finding the birth certificate on Friday evening. When he finished, they both set in silence for a good five minutes as the horses meandered along the banks of the creek.

“I had no idea,” Durk admitted, the shock pulling troubled lines into his face. “But it doesn’t really change anything.”

“It does for me.”

“It won’t for any of the rest of us. You’re my brother, just like Tague is. Nothing can change that.”

“You have to admit it explains a few things, like why nothing I did was ever good enough for Dad. I wasn’t his son.”

“I think you’re reading way too much into this, Damien.”

“I don’t.”

“If Dad didn’t think of you as his firstborn son, then how come as the firstborn, you get the house and the furnishings? Which means you’re the one who passes on the traditions of Christmas in the big house and the family rodeos in the fall and hosting the annual football-kickoff weekend shindig. He’d never have left you that if he didn’t consider you family.”

“I’m sure Mother insisted.”

“Even Mother didn’t have that kind of influence over Dad.”

“So let’s just drop it,” Damien said. “I have more important things on my mind now.”

“Good idea,” Durk agreed. “Let’s go back to the house.”

The house that shouldn’t be Damien’s, to wait for a dangerous madman who might never show. But even if he didn’t, Damien wouldn’t give up on finding him. He couldn’t change his relationship with his father, but he would save Emma from Caudillo if it was the last thing he did.

* * *

CAUDILLO FLICKED OFF THE news and swerved to the far right lane before slowing and pulling onto the shoulder. Imminent arrest of an ATF agent—hours after he’d made the call to Bent Pine Ranch?

If they believed he was fool enough to walk into their ill-conceived trap, they were truly imbeciles. But their little ploy would scare that weasel-faced Arnold Sawyer. He was probably messing up a pair of perfectly good trousers at this very minute.

Caudillo took the untraceable phone from his pocket and made a necessary call.

In minutes he’d given the orders for an execution. It was a shame he wouldn’t get to perform the duties himself, but he had even more important arrangements to make.

If it weren’t so easy, outwitting his opponents would be quite fun.

Chapter Sixteen

“Did you hear the news?”

Arnold Sawyer looked up from the report he’d been reading, removed his glasses and flashed his secretary a smile. “What news?”

“That someone in our office is going to be arrested for unethical behavior.”

“Who’s sleeping with whom now?”

“That would only be news around here, like getting that call from Emma Muran yesterday.”

Arnold swallowed hard, almost choking on his own saliva. “You talked to Emma Muran?”

“No, but the receptionist did. It sounds as if the honeymoon is over for Emma and the billionaire playboy. But this is much bigger. Looks as if someone’s been leaking information to the wrong person and he’s about to get nailed.”

Emma had escaped. Someone was about to be accused of leaking information. His hands grew clammy. His stomach began to roll. He was in deep trouble.

He forced himself to maintain a semblance of composure until his secretary closed the door. He had to get out of here fast. There wasn’t even time to make sure he wasn’t leaving behind any incriminating evidence.

Not that it mattered. He wouldn’t be coming back here again.

He started for the door and then went back for his laptop. It had information he’d need.

His door opened again and before he could turn around it closed and he heard the lock click into place.

“Going somewhere, Sawyer?”

“Who are you?”

“A friend of a friend.”

“How did you get in here?”

“It wasn’t easy. You’ve caused quite a commotion around here today, but no one wanted to keep the soft-drink delivery man away.”

“I didn’t tell anyone anything. I swear I didn’t. I did everything Caudillo ever asked me to do. Everything. I repaid him a thousand times over for paying for my daughter’s operation.”

“Okay. Calm down and go back to your desk. We’ll talk. Perhaps we can work something out.”

Arnold turned around. Two steps later he felt the knife plunge through his flesh and slit through the veins in his neck. Blood gushed from everywhere. Images of his wife and daughter flashed though his mind and then dissolved into total blackness.

* * *

IT WAS TEN PAST THREE IN THE afternoon when Damien and Durk recieved word that Arnold Sawyer, a senior agent with twenty-plus years of service and a spotless record, had been murdered in his office. He had been one of the key players in the failed operations and searches of Enmascardo Island. Caudillo knew how to pick his sources.

“So that’s it,” Durk said. “A dead agent can’t talk.”

“So much for my plan,” Damien said.

“It wasn’t your fault it failed or that Agent Sawyer is dead.”

“Somehow that doesn’t make me feel any better.” He walked over to the counter and poured himself another cup of strong black coffee. He carried it back to the kitchen table. The waiting for Caudillo to appear at the ranch was starting to grate big-time on his nerves.

“It’s so quiet around here that it’s almost eerie,” Damien said.

“I was just thinking the same thing. If Caudillo is coming, I hope he makes it soon.”

But he didn’t make it soon. Afternoon turned to the hazy shadows of twilight and then the full blackness of a cloudy, starless night shrouded the ranch.

Finally, Durk sacked out on the couch while Damien added another log to the fireplace.

“If I fall asleep, wake me at the first hint of trouble,” Durk said.

“I will.” The first streaks of sun were coming up over the horizon and filtering through the windows when Damien finally closed his eyes. When he did, it was as if a curtain opened and Emma appeared on the stage. Only she wasn’t alone.

A hideous monster was there with her, pulling her into his lap, running his fingers through her silky hair. Brushing her flesh with hands that looked like claws.

“You can’t save her,” the monster cried. “You’re not a Lambert.”

The voice belonged to his father.

Damien jerked awake. His heart was pounding. Bright sunshine flooded the room. His phone was jangling loudly. He jumped from the chair where he’d fallen asleep and took the call, praying that Caudillo had arrived at Bent Pine Ranch and was already in the clutches of the CIA. “Damien here,” he answered.

“This is Jerry Delaney. I have news.”

“Good, I hope.”

“The best. You can stop worrying about Caudillo or Anton Klein as we know him.”

“Does that mean you have him in custody?”

“No. It means he’s dead. It seems he wasn’t in the United States when he called the ranch.”

As much as he’d like to, Damien couldn’t quite accept that it was over. “How do you know this?”

“There was an explosion on his yacht this afternoon at about the same time someone was slitting Sawyer’s throat. Five crewmen are missing, supposedly thrown into the water by the force of the blast. But not Caudillo’s. His body was found on board and identified by the captain.”