Upper Hand (Cedar Tree Book 5) (22 page)

“Yeah?”

“Gus, it’s Beth. I fell asleep and when I woke up Clint was gone. I mean I can’t find him anywhere and the car’s still here.”

“Sit tight. I’m gonna call Mal. I’ll call right back.”

Before I even have a chance to respond he hangs up. I’m not liking this—not liking this at all. Suddenly, I need to know Max is all right, but I’m afraid to use the phone in case Gus calls back. So the next few minutes I simply stand there, panic sneaking through my body. I jump when the phone rings in my hand, almost dropping it.

“Gus?”

“I’m coming over now. Don’t answer the door to anyone.”

Suddenly feeling like eyes are on me, I slide down on the tile kitchen floor, my back wedged against the cupboards. I force myself to take deep breaths to try and slow down the loud pounding of my heart, when I pick up on a slight scraping noise. I still completely, not breathing until I hear it again. It’s coming from the back door, sounds like someone’s trying to get in. I frantically look around for a place to hide, but the only thing close enough is the laundry room, and that’s on the other side of the fridge. On hands and knees, trying to stay in the shadow of the cabinets, I slowly move in that direction until a loud shout from outside freezes me in my tracks. What sounds like a scuffle ensues, complete with slaps of skin against skin and banging against the sliding door. It’s so loud, I almost miss the knock at the front door, but when I hear Gus yelling my name, I get up. With a quick glance behind me that only shows a struggling mass of limbs, I run to the front door, which slams open when I’m just a few feet away.

“Fucking hell, woman. What—“ Looking over my shoulder, Gus spots the fight outside my door and runs right past me to the back. He flips the lock on the slider and yanks it open, causing the wrestling mass to tumble into the dining room. I recognize Mal but have no clue who the other person is, it’s hard to see with the balaclava on his head that only leaves his eyes and mouth clear. I was half expecting the guy from the parking lot, but he was tall and this one is clearly smaller than Mal but fighting fiercely. The click of the safety coming off a gun stands out sharply and stops all movement, even before Gus speaks.

“Been a while, but I figure I still remember how to pull a trigger.”

Mal uses the distraction to grab the other man’s arm and twists it behind his back, snapping handcuffs on his wrist, before grabbing the other arm and securing that one too. Then he rips off the ski mask revealing a young man with blond hair and vaguely familiar features. He frisks the guy, coming up with a small gun, concealed in the pocket of his parka.

“Who the fuck are you?” Mal grinds out between his teeth, grabbing the kid by his collar and tossing the gun on the table. Gus tucks away his own gun, now that they have the guy handcuffed and under control.

“Lookin’ for my sister,” was his quick answer, eyes flicking back and forth between Gus and Mal, before turning to me. Suddenly I placed him.

“You’re Tammy’s brother. You’re Brian.” I’d seen him once or twice since the wedding, but always in passing. He looked like Tammy, though. Same narrow nose and wide set blue eyes. Even the color of his hair was the same. I remember thinking they could’ve been twins the first time I met him. Gus looks at him through narrowed eyes.

“What the hell are you doing here, breaking in?”

Brian’s eyes turn back to Gus and he shrugs his shoulders. “Figured I’d talk to her,” he says, tilting his head in my direction. “Maybe she’d heard something.”

“With a gun? Normally people would use a phone or knock on the door. Not try to break in.” Mal points out.

“How did you find her? Beth doesn’t live here.” Gus wants to know, and frankly, so do I.

Again a shrug of his shoulders and it appears Brian’s had his fill of talking, slamming his mouth shut as his gaze lands on the floor.

“Where’s Clint?” I ask, my mind swirling with confusion as I take in this bizarre stand off in Clint’s house. Brian’s head snaps up looking at me blankly.

“I don’t even know who that is,” he says belligerently, just as there’s a sound behind me.

“The fuck?” Clint is standing in the doorway, looking at his front door, which is hanging from one hinge. Then he swings his head up and takes in the scene before him. Without thinking, I take a few running steps and throw myself in his arms. “What the hell, Beth?”

-

-

I
swear, I’ve been gone for less than twenty minutes to find my front door busted in, and some random guy in handcuffs in my house, Gus and Mal hovering over him. Then Beth, who greets me like I’ve fucking returned from the dead.

Beth was still sleeping deeply when I woke up from a satisfied nap. She didn’t even wake up when I went to clean up in the bathroom, so I figured I’d quickly call Jed and get our trucks sorted. I left a note for Beth on the nightstand and called Mal, who said he had eyes on the house. From where I had no fucking clue, ‘cause I couldn’t see his truck or him, but if he says he’s there, then he’s there. Jed picked me up in my truck and after switching out some tools over to his truck in the motel parking lot, I drove mine home again. Twenty fucking minutes tops.

-

“A
nyone wanna tell me what the fuck is going on?” I bark, as I fold my arms around a sniffling Beth.

“I can,” Mal volunteers. Thank fuck. “Just after you left, I see this guy sneaking around the side of the house to the back. I follow and catch him trying to unlatch the lock on the backslider. Beth apparently woke up to find you gone and called Gus, who in turn couldn’t get a hold of me since I had the phone on vibrate and wasn’t gonna alert this punk here by answering. He came through the front door... in a hurry.”

“I left you a note,” I tell Beth, whose fingers are clutched so tight in my back, I’m positive I’ll have marks. Her head snaps up at my words.

“There’s no note,” she says, shaking her head.

“There is, sugar. On the nightstand.” Without a word she releases her death grip and takes off down the hall to the master, coming back only minutes later with the familiar scrap of paper clutched in her hand and an embarrassed look on her face.

“It must’ve blown off when I threw back the covers.”

“Come ‘ere. You were worried about me?” I try to tease the embarrassment from her eyes, wrapping her back in my arms.

“Just worried something had happened before I could get proper return on my investment,” she deadpans.

“Smartass. You know you’ll pay for that.” I smile into her hair.

“Right. Hold that thought. Gotta call the sheriff in on this, maybe he can get a straight story out of this guy, because breaking into a house just to talk to someone is not processing well. Besides, I’d still like to know how he knew where you were.” Gus grabs the third guy’s arm and starts marching him to the door. “I’m gonna secure him in the truck. Mal, you call and fill in Carmel, would you?”

The next ten minutes, until the brand spanking new sheriff gets here, is spent getting me up to speed as to who the kid is, what he claimed to be doing here, and on how come former Deputy Drew Carmel was suddenly sheriff. You miss a lot when you’re out for a month. Apparently Drew was installed in office by the board, shortly after Joe permanently resigned to work with Gus at GFI Investigations. By the time there’s a knock on the door we’ve haphazardly closed for now, to keep out the cold, I think I’m pretty much caught up. Not that I’m any less confused, which seems to be the general feeling.

Beth’s still plastered to my side, which by the way I’m not complaining about in the least, when Mal lets Drew and a new deputy in through the wrecked front door. Almost immediately, the deputy leaves with Gus to switch the guy from his backseat to the patrol car and take him in to Cortez. Drew turns to Mal first for his recollection of events before turning to Beth.

“And how come Gus showed up, kicking the door down?” Beth, who’s been very unnaturally quiet and subdued, goes stiff under my arm. “Beth?” Drew prompts when she’s not exactly jumping to answer.

“That would be my fault.”

Drew turns to me, a surprised look on his face. “I thought you weren’t even here until after all this happened?”

“Technically, but I left Beth sleeping. She woke up not knowing where I was and called Gus, which was exactly the right thing to do.” It’s true, it had been the correct thing to do under the circumstances, and in hindsight, maybe lucky that he happened to walk in when Mal was struggling with the guy, cause from what I can figure, the dude did have a gun on him.

“Tell me your side, Beth, from the moment you woke up.”

“I looked for Clint. He wasn’t in the house and I couldn’t find him in his workshop either. I was freaked out and called Gus.”

“His workshop?”

“Out back, in that big shed. I figured for sure I’d find him there, but it was dark.”

“And you didn’t hear or see anything out there?” Drew pushes.

“I was uncomfortable. I remember the hairs on the back of my neck standing up, but no; I didn’t see anything,” Beth confirms, getting a little pissy at the prying questions. .

“Look, Beth, I’m just getting the logistics because it would seem you may well have been very damn lucky you didn’t bump into him.” 

Apparently Beth hadn’t yet considered that judging from the sharp intake of breath. “But he’s Tammy’s brother,” she protests weakly.

“May well be, babe, but his story stinks,” I point out. “You know it and I know it. He claims to only want to talk to you, but won’t tell anyone how he found you, or why he’s breaking into my house to do it. I’m not even gonna get started on that gun Mal took off him.”

“Fine. I’m not a complete idiot, you know.” Beth’s cute when she pouts. Doesn’t do it often, but it’s a little bit of vulnerability that makes her somehow more approachable.

I tighten my arm around her shoulder and turn her body into mine, ignoring her resistance. Bending down, I whisper in her ear, “Watch that smart mouth. I have plans for it.” Just like that her body settles against mine. I love how she responds. My cock loves it too.

-

D
rew, his deputy, and Mal are off to Cortez with the hapless Brian, leaving Gus behind. He is talking on his cell just outside the front door. The moment he’s done, I’m going to get his help rehanging the door he kicked down. Seems only fair. Beth was on the phone earlier, talking to Katie to check on Max. Katie and Caleb decided to keep him with them for security reasons. Beth was not on board with that at first, but when Gus reminded her that both Katie and Caleb are trained operatives, she had to admit Max would be better off with them for the time being. At least until this mess is sorted. What he didn’t say was that Max was as much a potential target. I think she clued in fast though, because now she is puttering around in the kitchen, determined to ‘feed’ us. Guess she needs the activity. I had another one in mind, but it appears that’s going to have to wait.

“Neil’s on his way with some equipment to tighten up security here.” Gus walks in, snapping his phone shut and grinning. “And don’t be surprised when Emma shows up with food to feed an army.”

“I’m cooking!” Beth yells from the kitchen, having obviously overheard some of that.

“Girl, you know my Emma; there’s no way she would come over and
not
bring food. I’m guessing that before long there’ll be more people showing up. After this morning’s attack on you and now this, I’m thinking the Cedar Tree phone lines are humming. Everyone’s gonna want to check in.”

Both Gus and I have moved into the kitchen where Beth has half the contents of the fridge spread out on the counter.

“Bean. Don’t you think that’s a bit excessive?” I try, but am shut down with a fierce glare from chocolate brown eyes. Gus snickers beside me.

“Word of advice; don’t come between a woman and her need to feed.”

“Right,” I confirm, my eyes still on Beth’s where I see a hint of fear lingering. Wrapping my hand around the nape of her neck, I draw her to me, planting a soft kiss on her lips. “Right,” I say again. “I’m gonna fix that door. Gus, give me a hand?”

Thirty minutes later, Emma is in my kitchen bickering with Beth. Gus and I have a new catch plate ready to go on the new doorpost—the old one having been splintered when Gus put his boot through it—and the door is ready to be rehung. Only thing left to do is put a new lock on it. It’s around nine o’clock, getting pretty damn cold out, and I’m fucking starving, wanting to get this shit done. The crunch of tires on my drive alerts me. Gus, I see, is already alert with his hand on the butt of his gun, temporarily stuck in the back of his waistband so he’d have free movement of his arms. Guess he was comfortable enough to go without his shoulder holster but not going without the gun. Grinding to a stop is Arlene’s truck. Figures.

“Where is she?”

“Easy, Arlene,” Gus cautions when she comes marching up the steps, her face angry. But then Arlene has a tendency to get pretty pissed when something happens to her friends.

“Don’t tell me ‘easy’, Gus Flemming. I just found out Seb was called twice today—twice—about shit going on with my girl, and he’s in fucking deep water already for keeping it from me! Don’t know why you wouldn’t call me yourself. Not only this morning, but now. Good thing Emma gave me a head’s up, or who knows when I would’ve been told?”