Threat of Exposure Read online

  Without another word, she nodded. She was glad, too. His last sentence might be considered a thank you. She decided she liked him a little better after all.

  “So, show me what you’ve got.” He rolled his chair around so that he sat shoulder to shoulder with her. Unprepared for the sudden move or the next wave of awareness that shot through her, she gave a small jump. Wow, he smelled good—even after that tussle with Lenny.

  She cleared her throat and reached into her briefcase. “All we have to go on right now is this information. It was on a flash drive that was found in Melora Hudson’s house. She was married to a man who was involved in the Lions and was killed two years ago because of it. His body was only found recently—near a drug drop site. It just goes to show you that these people will stop at nothing to protect their interests.” She waved the book at him. “I printed all of the information on the drive off and made this little black book here. I needed it on paper form to study. Anyway, so far, we’ve uncovered the fact that drug shipments are coming out of Juarez, Mexico.”

  “Which is why you’re here, right?”

  “Right. And here.” She pointed to the initials B.H.TX. “This is Boot Hill, Texas. We’ve already figured that much out. However, the rest of this is gibberish to me. You, however, know the border, you know the towns, you know the people. Surely, if there’s something in here, you’ll be able to zero in on it.”

  He held out a hand and she placed the book in it. When she did, her knuckles brushed his palm and sent shivers dancing all the way up her arm.

  Jerking back, she looked at him and saw the surprise and awareness on his face, too.

  Before he could say anything, she blurted, “Look on page seven. There are a lot of initials and numbers we haven’t been able to decipher. Like I said, we figured out Boot Hill, but the others…” She bit off her words. She was repeating herself and sounding like an idiot. Clearing her throat, she shrugged. “Would you take a look at those and see if anything comes to you?”

  “Sure.” His warm gaze lingered on her face a moment longer and she swallowed hard.

  After what seemed like years, he let his blue eyes fall to the book in front of him. “So,” he drawled. “They sent you here all by yourself? With no backup?”

  “Excuse me?” She understood the question, she just hoped she misunderstood the meaning behind it.

  “No offense, but this is a really sticky situation and…”

  At his doubtful look, Gisella bristled. She hadn’t misunderstood. And just when she was starting to think he wasn’t all bad. “What? You don’t think I can handle this assignment because I’m a woman?”

  Disdain dripped from her voice but she didn’t care. She had no use for men who thought because she was female and pretty, she was somehow less than capable. Did she need to remind him of who’d saved whom only a short time ago?

  He must have read her thoughts because he backpedaled and held up a hand as though in surrender. “No, no. That’s not what I’m saying—exactly. I’m just saying that this is an extremely dangerous playground. If these people find out about you and you were to get caught…” He swallowed. “I don’t have to tell you what the consequences would be. I just have a hard time believing your superiors would choose someone…”

  She turned her head so that she came nose to nose with him.

  And lip to lip.

  Putting some distance between them, she held on to her ire and said, “I’m a big girl, Martin. I can handle it. They chose me because I can handle it. So don’t give me any grief about being a woman in a man’s world. I won’t listen to it.” She refused to bring up the incident with the informant. If she hadn’t proved herself there, it would be hopeless to get into a discussion with the man about her skills.

  Over the years, she’d found arguing with the men in law enforcement about her abilities was fruitless. She just had to do her job, do it well and keep her mouth shut. She’d also found the old adage that actions spoke louder than words was true.

  But Gisella’s gut tightened at the thought of the added tension Brock’s skepticism would bring to the table. She forced herself not to worry about it now. She’d just deal with it.

  Like she had when she first became a Ranger and the men had looked at her with a mixture of disbelief that she’d infiltrated their ranks, and a haughty, arrogant assurance that she wouldn’t be around long.

  She’d proven them all wrong and was now a respected and well-thought-of member of Company D. But it definitely hadn’t been an easy road to travel.

  And while she might keep her cool and ignore a lot of stuff she considered silly, that didn’t mean she didn’t have a backbone. “Can we focus on what we need to do? You go over that book while I fill out these papers on the shooting.”

  He just looked at her for a moment. Then sighed. “Yeah, sure.” He glanced down, then back up. “I didn’t mean to offend you, I was just…concerned.”

  “No need to be,” she clipped.

  She’d already called Ben and filled him in on the shooting incident. He wasn’t happy at the tap dancing he was going to have to do in order for her to continue her current investigation. After a shooting, an officer was generally placed on administrative leave during the investigation. But Ben had pull in a lot of places. And the videotape from Brock’s car that she’d sent him would go a long way with Internal Affairs.

  And he needed Gisella in Boot Hill, Texas, investigating.

  After she finished the paperwork, Brock and Gisella spent the next hour and a half bouncing ideas off each other until Brock finally said, “I don’t know. This could go on forever. I say we head to Boot Hill and start asking questions. We can see what turns up.”

  “That was my original destination until I was told we were going to be working together.” A thought hit Gisella and she gave a startled laugh.

  Brock blinked. “What’s so funny?”

  “I just realized that they didn’t exactly send me down here all alone.”

  His right brow lifted. “No?”

  “Guess that’s why they paired us up. So you can protect me.” She batted her lashes and put on her most helpless expression.

  A short laugh escaped him. He snorted, “Well, when you put it that way…” Brock glanced at his watch. “Get that look off your face. If we leave now, we can be there in twenty minutes.”

  Gisella turned serious and sucked in a thoughtful breath. “Yeah, let’s do that. I’m going to check in with my boss again and give him an update.”

  He stood as she grabbed her phone, excitement lighting his weary eyes. “Then let’s hit the road.”

  “Do you have a car? I took a cab from the airport, then borrowed one of the station’s cars to come find you.”

  His lips twisted. “Sure, we can use mine. Or rather, the department’s.”

  She wondered at the odd look on his face but didn’t ask.

  Instead, she looked at the clock. 8:07. She was starving. Her suitcase sat at her feet. “Fine, as long as you promise we’ll get something to eat soon.”

  TWO

  After a quick stop by Brock’s apartment to throw some things into a small suitcase, the drive to Boot Hill, Texas, took approximately twenty minutes. Upon entering the small town with the sign proudly proclaiming their population to be 1,406, Brock eyed the woman sitting next to him.

  She’d been on the phone most of the ride with a fellow Ranger. Levi someone. “How’s our guy in the hospital?” she asked. “Has he come out of the coma yet?”

  Coma? Guy in the hospital? Brock shot her a brief glance which she ignored. Seems like she’d neglected to fill him in on a few details.

  “Right,” she said. “Keep me in the loop, okay?”

  She must have gotten an affirmative response because she said thanks and hung up. To Brock she said, “Sorry, that was my new captain, Ben Fritz.”

  “Who’s in the hospital in a coma?” Brock asked.

  “We’re not sure who he is.” Gisella reached down into the bac
kpack she’d brought with her and pulled out a water bottle. She held it out to him and he refused. After she took a sip, she said, “We just know that he’s somehow involved with the Lions of Texas and his name is Quin Morton. We haven’t figured out his connection to the Lions yet, but we will. He was there when Captain Pike was murdered in his own home. Before Captain Pike died, we—the Ranger company—had gotten a text that Pike had something major to share with us. We were all to gather at his house so he could fill us in, but when we got there…” She paused and he glanced at her as he pulled into a parking spot in front of The Great Plate, the restaurant he’d heard had good home cooking.

  “Yeah?” he prompted.

  She cleared her throat. “When we got there, we found our captain dead and another man severely wounded. That man’s been in a coma ever since and we’ve had no luck tracking down who he is. We’re desperate for him to wake up and tell us who shot him and the captain. But so far, no luck.” She grimaced. “And to top that off, someone tried to kill him just a few weeks or so ago so he’s under 24/7 guard right now.”

  “Ouch.”

  She opened her door and climbed out. He saw her pull the edges of her heavy down coat tighter against her throat. He shivered in his own jacket as they moved toward the warmth of the restaurant. “And this is what you’ve been working on for the past several months?”

  “That’s it. We’re making progress, finding clues here and there, but we just can’t seem to grab on to that final piece of information that will allow us to put it all together and capture the top guys.”

  “Yeah,” he muttered. “I know how you feel. I’ve been working the border down here for years, catching the small fish. I just can’t seem to get the information I need to catch the big dogs.”

  “And then we’ve got the Alamo celebration coming up in March. Our company is part of the security detail and we believe someone is targeting that celebration for some reason.” She pulled the door open. “Hopefully the answer to that is somewhere in the info on the flash drive.”

  As Gisella stepped inside, she breathed in the scents of veggies and coffee. And was that a roast she smelled? Her stomach growled. A sudden longing for her mother’s home cooking swept over her. Please, Lord, let us resolve our differences soon.

  Brock stood behind her and for some reason, she was very aware of his presence. So much so that for a few seconds she didn’t realize the noise level in the restaurant had dropped to a dead silence.

  Although there weren’t many customers—probably due to the lateness of the hour—all eyes present were focused on the newcomers. Gisella shifted, uncomfortable with the sudden attention. She was used to people staring out of curiosity simply because of her uniform and the fascination people had with Texas Rangers.

  However, these stares didn’t feel like that. They felt menacing. Surprised at her somewhat paranoid reaction, she let her eyes roam the restaurant again.

  Nope, not paranoid. Unsmiling, stony faces looked back at her.

  Then a man in a food-stained apron approached and handed them two menus. “Hey, I’m Angelo Luc—or Pop. I answer to both. Have a seat wherever you want, Krista’ll be around shortly to take yer order. You got here just in time. I’m closing up in thirty minutes.”

  “Thanks.” Gisella gripped her menu and made her way over to a booth in the corner. Brock slid in across from her and gradually, the patrons turned their attention back to their meals.

  She blew out a breath. “What was that all about?”

  “Small town, new faces?” He gestured toward her badge. “A Ranger in town and they want to know why.”

  Gisella flushed. “Maybe I should have changed and been a little less conspicuous. Then again, I’m not undercover and have nothing to hide.”

  “After we eat, I suggest we find the sheriff and explain our presence. I’ve already met him a few times but he’ll want to know about you.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  Brock picked up the menu. “So, what do you think? Lots of choices here.”

  She lifted a brow. “All five of them? That qualifies as a lot to choose from?”

  A grin slid across his lips and she felt her face flush for a different reason this time. He was teasing her. Then his eyes flickered as he glanced at his options on the menu. “Choices. I’ve made a lot of choices in life.”

  “What kind of choices?”

  “Right ones, wrong ones.” He smirked. “Seems like the wrong ones outweigh the right ones some days.”

  Gisella blinked at his sudden flash of vulnerability. Where had that come from? But she knew what he meant. And because of that, she felt herself drawn to him. “I guess you have to pray about it and believe that God won’t steer you wrong.”

  He pulled in a deep breath and studied her, his blue eyes piercing to her soul. “I haven’t prayed in a long time.”

  More vulnerability. “Why not?” She couldn’t help it, she was curious about him.

  He flushed as though he regretted bringing up the topic, then shrugged. “I guess I’ve just been so busy trying to catch the bad guys, I haven’t given God and prayer a lot of thought.”

  “That’s understandable. I’ve been there.”

  “But you’re not now?”

  “No. God got my attention a few years ago. I finally realized I had to make the time to spend with Him, it wasn’t just going to magically happen.” She smiled, but didn’t elaborate further.

  She’d been mad at God for a long time after the death of her brother, but had eventually made her peace with it. A story she would be happy to share with the man before her. Maybe when she knew him a little better, though. She couldn’t talk about it without tearing up. And after his doubtful comments about her superiors sending a woman down to work on this case, crying in front of Brock wasn’t going to happen.

  Brock kept silent, then seemed to realize she wasn’t going to say anything else. He sighed. “Today when Lenny had that gun pointed at me and murder in his eyes…well, I have to say, I prayed.”

  “Guess God still has work for you to do.”

  “I guess.” His smile finally touched his eyes.

  “Whew! Sorry it took me so long to get over here. Y’all ready?”

  They looked up to find a young girl probably not much older than sixteen standing at the edge of the table, pen poised above her order tablet. Her blond ponytail swung behind her and her blue eyes smiled with her lips.

  Brock smiled back at her. “I’ll take the special.”

  Gisella shut her menu. “Make that two.”

  “Country fried chicken, gravy, greens and cornbread. You got it.” She spun on her heel and headed for the kitchen.

  Gisella let her eyes wander around the restaurant. Another young waitress worked the back tables. “Nice little place they have here. How did you find it?”

  “A drug runner I arrested about a month ago was from here. He jumped bail and I was determined to get him back. I teamed up with a bounty hunter and we tracked him down. Found him holed up in his mother’s attic about two miles from here.”

  “Probably part of the organization we’re trying to eliminate.”

  “Now that wouldn’t surprise me.”

  “So that’s when you met the sheriff?”

  “One of the times. I come through here occasionally on business.”

  The waitress came back and placed their drinks and a couple of straws on the table. Gisella took a sip of her water and leaned back. “You’re not a very by-the-book kind of guy, are you?”

  “What makes you ask that?” he deadpanned.

  She gave a short laugh. “Right.”

  The food appeared on the table with a flourish and Krista asked them if they needed anything else. Gisella smiled at her. “No, this looks great, thanks.”

  “Just holler if you need something then.”

  “How old are you?” Gisella asked the girl.

  “Sixteen.”

  So, she’d guessed right. “You’re very good at
this waitressing thing.”

  The girl gave a giggle. “Thanks. I don’t normally work school nights, but two of the regular waitresses are out sick with the flu so…” She shrugged. “I told Pop—my grand-father—I’d help him.”

  “Very kind of you.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m not totally selfless. I like the money. Enjoy.” She flashed another smile and twirled back to the kitchen.

  “At least she’s friendly,” Brock said after a bite of his chicken.

  Gisella didn’t bother to answer as she tucked into her food.

  The next ten minutes passed in relative silence as they both ate and tried not to let the stares from the remaining few customers faze them.

  Gisella finally put down her fork and leaned back. “I’m stuffed. Reminds me of Mom’s cooking.” Cooking that she hadn’t had a lot of lately. But that was her fault.

  “Where are you from?” Brock lifted his glass and took another drink.

  “San Antonio. Well, my parents are from Mexico originally, but I was born in Texas.”

  He smiled his thanks as Krista refilled their glasses then turned his focus on Gisella. “Did you bring that little black book in?”

  “Yes.” She tilted her head and eyed him. “It’s in my bag.”

  “I want to have another look at some of the other letters and numbers again.”

  “Sure.” She reached into her purse and pulled out the book.

  He took it, opened it and read aloud. “JZ, RP, QV. And the mixture of numbers and letters: 3149NJZ10724WRPQV. JZ, RP and QV could all be initials, maybe? As for the other symbols, it could be a safe combination written in code. Or the numbers could be someone’s birthday. 3149. Could that be March 1, 1949?”

  “Possibly.”

  “And 10724.”

  “October 7th, 1924.”

  “And look, the letters JZ are repeated in the string of letters and numbers as well as RP and QV.” Brock gave a frustrated grunt. “Could be anything.”