Wild Card (38 page)

She slid a toe ring on. Something else he had bought her. She wiggled her toes, eyeing the

cherry-red polish critically before sliding her feet into stylish leather sandals.

She spritzed herself with the softly scented cologne she had always favored then headed back

downstairs. Striding into the kitchen, she heard the Harley and went to the window to watch as

its headlight cut through the darkness and sped away from the garage.

Where was he going? Another fight?

He was here for a mission, she reminded herself. She knew he was, she just hadn't figured out

what it was. And she hadn't asked. That was dumb of her. Because she hadn't wanted the

inevitable question to come up. What happened when the mission or assignment was over?

What happened when he no longer had a reason to be in Alpine?

And now she knew. He'd have to leave. To sort some things out.

She shook her head, picked up the phone, and called a cab. She didn't want to drive tonight.

She intended to enjoy this little outing Sienna had guilted her into. She intended to dull her

senses just enough to laugh with her friends, to be a girl again.

It had been a damned long time since she had been a woman, just for the sake of being a

woman. Too many years since she had felt a sense of—freedom. And that freedom hurt. It hurt

like hell.

She shoved a credit card and her house keys in the back pocket of her jeans and went out to the

front porch to await her ride.

Sabella knew she was too damned pissed to be leaving the house. Too hurt. She should face

Noah with what she knew, scream and demand the truth, but pride held her back. Who wanted

a man who stayed simply because a woman reminded him that he was married?

As the cab drew into the driveway, she watched Rory step out of the convenience store, staring

up at the drive.

"Pull down to the garage first," she told Art Strickman, the young man driving the cab that

night. His daddy owned three cabs, and they all kept up a steady business. Especially on a

Friday night.

"Yes, Ms. Malone." He flashed her a smile before turning and driving to the front of the

convenience store.

Rory was waiting on her. "Where the hell are you going?"

Rory took one look at her and barely managed to keep his mouth from dropping open. Holy

hell. Noah was going to explode.

This
was the Sabella
he
knew. This woman standing in front him of looking like a damned

goddess. Her hair all fluffed around her face, her eyes smoky in the dim light, legs a mile long,

and nails painted cherry red.

"Girls' night out." She wagged her brows. "I'll be back late, so make sure you lock up tight and take the bank bag with you. I'll get it in the morning."

"Hell, umm, Belle." He swallowed tightly. "Hang around a bit. I'll go with you. I close up in an hour."

"Girls' night out, Rory." She patted his cheek with a mocking little laugh. "Sienna and Kira Richards are waiting on me. I've just put away a bottle of Nathan's eighteen hundred and

something French wine, and I'm heading out to have a little fun. You can survive without me."

Shit. Shit. He pushed his fingers through his hair and stared around the lot as he heard the door

open behind him.

"Ms. Malone. Wow. You're hot," Toby almost cackled. "You're going out tonight?"

"Ain't he sweet?" Belle wrinkled her nose back at him. "Girls' night out, Toby. Make sure you get a ride home, no walking. Promise?"

"You betcha."' Toby laughed. "Tell me where you're going. Maybe we'll join you."

Sabella shot him a sharp look. "Do I look like I need a babysitter?" She waved her hand down

her body as she cocked her hip with feminine arrogance. Rory and Toby both nearly swallowed

their tongues at the look. Rory swore Noah was going to detonate like a nuclear bomb when he

caught sight of this. And oh boy, Rory did intend to make damned certain his brother knew his

wife was out on the town looking like a sex goddess visiting for a little down-and-dirty

pleasure.

Not that Belle looked sluttish. She looked damned good. Too damned good. Too damned hot

dressed like the female she was, and too innocent to know what the hell she was letting all

those Friday-night cowboys get a glimpse of.

One pissed-off, hurting woman.

"No, ma'am." Toby was the first to speak. "I just want to see the fireworks later."

Rory shot Toby a silencing look. One the boy ignored.

"What fireworks?"

"The ones that are going to hit Alpine when Mr. Blake finds you," Toby said, laughing. "Talk about a Friday night free-for-all."

"Yeah. Mr. No-commitment-has-things-to-sort-out-Blake. Don't worry. I have a feeling he

couldn't give a damn one way or the other."

And she believed it.

Rory saw it in her face, in her eyes. She believed to the bottom of her heart that Noah didn't

give a damn. Hell. Someone was going to end up hurt tonight, and he just prayed it wasn't

Sabella. Or Noah. Or God forbid, him.

With his luck, Noah would rip his head off just for letting her go.

But he let her go. Watched the cab pull out and breathed out roughly.

"How old are you, Toby?"

"Nineteen. But I got friends," Toby told him. "I can get in any bar in town."

Rory ran his gaze critically over Toby. Yeah, he could pass for twenty-one.

"We are such dead meat. Noah will kill us both!" he snarled.

"Man, you can't let her go by herself if there's shit goin' on. And I'm not stupid. I've watched

you and Noah enough to know there's definitely shit going on," Toby snapped. "We have to

follow her. Call Noah, man. This is bad. It's Friday night, Rory. You know how many men are

going to be hitting on her? It's like setting a baby lamb loose in a pen of wolves."

Rory glanced at his watch and bit back a curse. Noah wouldn't even have cell coverage for

another two hours. He'd warned Rory of that. Only Uncle Jordan had access. Shit. This was

bad.

"Lockup."

They turned and rushed inside. Pumps were shut down, lights turned out, and they ignored the

car that pulled in, its horn blowing imperiously in front of the pumps.

"Start calling your friends. Find out which bar she's at,"' Rory ordered half an hour later as they jumped into his car. "I'll get hold of a contact and see if they can catch Mr. Noah asshole Blake.

How stupid can a man get?'"

"As stupid as Blake?" Toby asked.

"That was rhetorical, kid," Rory groaned. "It was supposed to be rhetorical."

Jordan listened to Rory's frantic voice mail, lifted his brows, and stared through the window

into the briefing room where the agents of the Elite Ops had gathered.

"Man. Get hold of Noah. Fast. Don't know what he did to piss off Belle. She's got girls' night

out and looks like something that just stepped outta every man's fantasy. She's headed to the

Borderline. Kira Richards and Sienna Grayson are meeting her. Get me some backup before

that psychotic bastard you have with you goes nuclear and blames me for this. He grabs my

neck one more time, and I swear to God, To God, Jordan, and I'm telling Grandpop. Your name

will be in it. You don't want that. And I'll tell on you." The message cut off.

Jordan clicked the button to continue to the next frantic message and almost smiled. Rory was

losing his mind, and Noah would be next.

"I'm telling you. I have to tell Grandpop, and we're all gonna pay. All of us. Tell him that one

for me. He does it again and we're all screwed 'cause I'm squealin' like a pig to the old man and

savin' my own ass first. You tell him that."

The message cut off.

Rory was threatening to tell Grandpop on all of them. Hell, he almost felt young again. Rory

was always telling Grandpop on them when he thought they were getting his ass in trouble.

What Rory had never known was that Grandpop had usually already guessed. But having the

kid trust him, love him enough, always made the old man proud as hell. Unfortunately, this

time, telling Grandpop wasn't an option.

Jordan leaned back in his chair, stared at his nephew, and he almost smiled. Almost. Because

Noah chose that moment to stare back at him, as though he knew something was up, and

Jordan knew exactly what that something was.

Damn, he loved that boy. A part of him had died when he'd thought his nephew had, and he

swore his soul had lightened when he found out Nathan was alive.

And he'd worried. Worried like hell, especially when Nathan refused to let them call Belle.

But this might be working out better. He rose from his seat and strode into the briefing room.

Yeah, things just might be coming together for his nephew. And when they did… He nodded to

himself. When they did, then all the conniving and manipulation he'd used against his nephew

would have been worth it. Every second of it.

If Noah didn't kill him first.

"Okay, boys, here's your files." He tossed the files to the table. "We have DNA verification.

Order will go out to the sheriff and the state police first thing in the morning to haul Delbert

Ransome's ass in. Let's be prepared."

Micah had photos. Late-night recon had observed several midnight hunting parties in the past

week that had thankfully not resulted in prey being located. But they had the pictures, taken at

long range, one of which showed Delbert Ran pickup.

"We have Kira and Tehya running matches on the other vehicles but we haven't identified them

yet." Jordan was still outlining the files an hour later.

Noah's head lifted from the pictures to stare at his uncle.

"Everyone, Tehya will be working communications and logistics for us." He nodded to the

door and the small redhead who stood leaning against the frame, arms crossed over a snug T-

shirt, her jeans-clad legs crossed at the ankles.

"What happened?" Noah asked then. "The orphan turned heiress has decided to stay?"

Tehya's lips lifted with an edge of amusement. "I never claimed the Fitzhugh estate. My name

was wiped from the reports of the mission that Joseph Fitzhugh was killed in. His estate went

to cover debts and to secure the future of the young woman he was still holding on his estate."

Who would want the world to know she was the daughter of a terrorist and white slaver so vile

that a cartel drug lord had been promised protection to secure the terrorist's identity and

capture.

Her long red hair was pulled back into a low ponytail. her green eyes stared cynically into the

meeting room.

"We also have reports of a newborn showing up with the housekeeper of Gaylen Patrick."

Jordan turned back to the file. "One of the kidnapped legal aliens had a child. An infant, mere

months old. The baby's body was never found. The DNA found beneath Ransome's truck

matched that of the father, but not the mother."

"The feds can get him on both deaths though, correct?" Micah spoke up, his eyes gleaming like

black ice in his hard features.

"That's what they're working on." Jordan nodded. "Federal, state, and county law enforcement will converge on the Patrick ranch in the morning. Sheriff Grayson, not Alpine's small police

force, will be aware of the arrest warrant before the FBI arrives with it. There will be agents

ready to catch Ransome if he tries to run, or ditch the truck. They're going for complete

secrecy, and there's a good chance they can contain any calls outgoing to the Patrick ranch with

the plan they have in place."

"What basis are they using for suspicion?" Noah asked.

"Anonymous tip.'" Jordan smiled mockingly. "Seems someone thinks they saw Ransome's

truck possibly chasing someone through the valley that night. A lone hiker."

Noah nodded. It was imperative that they keep suspicion off the garage.

"We've had John on the daughter of Coalton James, the owner of the bank Mike Conrad is

manager of. Katy James works in accounts there. It seems some of Conrad's accounts appear a

little off to her." He nodded to the Australian then.

John Vincent flicked Jordan a rather sarcastic look before he spoke.

"Katy seems to think there are a few too many inconsistencies in some of the larger accounts.

Namely the fact that several of the corporate accounts he manages have signs of being used to

launder large amounts of money."

"And she told you this why?" Noah asked him. "I know Katy, she doesn't run her mouth about bank accounts."

John's lips twisted mockingly. "No, she doesn't. But she does keep a rather detailed journal.

She's looking at getting her very delectable little rear in quite a bit of trouble if she isn't

careful."

Noah shook his head. Didn't it just figure. He wondered if Sabella kept a journal. Hell. He

realized he had no idea if she did or not.

"The evidence found in Conrad's library along with the suspected laundering and Ransome's

involvement puts Gaylen Patrick right in the thick of it," John continued. "One of those very

lucrative accounts that Katy has found suspicious ties into Patrick. His ranch borders the park,

and it would be easy for him to offset any suspicion."

"Patrick employs legal aliens," Noah pointed out. "What about the program we got into

Conrad's laptop? Have we found anything through it?"

"Nothing yet," Tehya answered. "We're still working on the encryption on some of the files, but other than that, we've not been able to track any information through it."

"John, I want you and Micah in town tomorrow." Jordan cut through the comment hovering on