Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

Bear

Dinner's almost over when I hear my name. "Natalie, Paddy, Sela, Bear―stay behind." Uh-oh. He got wind somehow.

When the kitchen crowd clears, Patch wrangles us all into a circle. "I heard."

"How did you find out?" Natalie asks.

"Sheriff Stafford said they came around asking questions of him. He called me to find out what was going on. Were you planning to tell me, or were you just going to keep me in the dark?" Patch asks, and he seems pissed off. I guess he's got a right to be.

"No. We didn't know what was going on until earlier today ourselves. Hell, they went to her work so I didn't really know what was going on until she got home," Paddy says and points to Natalie.

"And they accosted us in the discount store earlier before her doctor appointment. We haven't had time to tell anybody anything," I add, tipping my head toward Sela.

Natalie speaks up. "Yeah, I knew this morning that they were coming to talk to me, but I didn't know why except that it was about the cartel."

"Stafford called me to find out why I hadn't warned him. I had to tell him I didn't know, so I looked like an idiot," Patch says, his tone a bit huffy.

Sela shrugs. "We didn't know either. You can't tell somebody something you don't know anything about. And I'm sorry it got sprung on you, but it got sprung on us too. Wasn't something we wanted. It just happened that way."

"Okay. I've got a clearer picture now. What did they want? I mean, what's going on?"

It takes us a few minutes to explain to Patch what we were told. Sela ends with, "And I'm not going to one of their stupid safe houses. I know from experience that if you need to be safe, those are some of the least safe places in the world to be. There's always some jackass at the bureau who's on the dole to some cartel boss and spills the beans. Somebody shows up and massacres everybody, the person in safekeeping, the agents, everybody. So much for safe."

Patch nods as if he's thinking, and we all just wait. "Tony and Steve will be here tomorrow. Does the bureau know where these guys are right now?"

"No. They said they don't. But I don't trust them," Sela says again.

"Then we talk to Tony and Steve tomorrow and go from there. In the meantime, stay alert."

"We will. Thanks," Paddy answers.

None of us hang around. Paddy and Natalie disappear into their cottage, knowing the boys will be there waiting for them. As we head to ours, I see Reboot open the door and say something to Martin, who's sitting on the porch with Elmore. When he sees me looking his way, he waves, then says something else to the boy before closing the door. Martin grins and waves too, so I wave back. "Thanks for the dog food, Bear!" he calls out to me.

"You're welcome, buddy. Did you like the leash and collar?"

"Oh, yeah! They're really cool. Elmore likes 'em too, don'tcha, boy?" He scratches the dog's head and I can see the animal's tail wagging.

"Good deal. Don't stay out too late, okay?"

"I won't. Night, Bear."

"Night, buddy."

"Night, Miss Sela!"

"Night, Martin," the woman beside me calls back, and I smile. I hope by now she's seeing that everybody wants her here, even Martin and the dog she wanted to put a bullet through. When the door closes behind us, I hear her say, "That dog has really surprised me. He might actually turn out to be a good companion."

"Martin sure loves him. That little boy has been through a lot. If that dog makes him happy, I'm glad the dog is here."

"Me too. His mom died, right?"

"Yeah. He was in foster care until they found Reboot. Sad days for him."

"Natalie said Reboot didn't know he existed."

"She told you right. Soon as he found out, he couldn't get Martin here fast enough. Jumped right in. I have to tell you, I have mountains of respect for Reboot. He's one of the best people I've ever met. Funny as hell too. Guy's a nut, but he loves everybody, and he'd do anything for you. And Mavis took that child in and loves him like he's her own. They're amazing people."

"I got that impression." She's already stripping off her clothes as she walks through the cottage. "Ready for bed?"

"As in ready for bed or ready for bed?" I ask with a chuckle.

"Ready for bed, not ready for sleep." I can hear her moving around in the bedroom, so I grab a bottle of water and lock the doors. "Unless you're sleepy."

"Not me," I answer.

"Good. Because I'm not either."

Five minutes later, we're wrapped around each other like honeysuckle wrapped around a fence post, and every stroke into her makes me happy to be there and in her arms. "I'm so thankful for you, banrigh ." The scent of her skin fills my head and makes my heart beat even faster. "Oh, girl, what you do to me. Damn, babe. I'd do anything for you."

"I love you, Miles. I only want to be here with you," she whispers, her hips pumping against my pelvis as I rock into her, lost in her softness and the deep hazel of her eyes.

When we're both spent―her first, always―we lie there in the darkness of the bedroom, her molded to my side and lying in my arms, her hand lightly stroking the hair on my chest. Out of the blue, she says, "They're going to kill me, you know."

"Not as long as I have breath," I tell her, my free hand rising to trail down her cheek. "No one's going to kill you. We're going to finish out our lives together, Sela. I promise you that."

"Then we're both going to die, because they will kill me. Natalie too. These people, they're ruthless. They don't care who they hurt as long as they do what they came to do." There's a weariness in her tone that I've never heard before, and it worries me.

"They've never met the men at this farm. We won't let that happen, babe. Not happening. Stop worrying about it." That's easy to say, but much harder to believe.

Because I can say that, for the first time in my life, I really am scared.

There's an awful lot of activity outside when I wake up, and I glance over to find Sela still sleeping peacefully. I swear, that woman could sleep through a world war, volcanic eruption, earthquake, hurricane, and tornado, all happening at the same time. The floor is chilly when my feet hit it, and I stumble into the kitchen and peer out the blinds on the door.

I don't know why I'm surprised at the racket. The Walters are here. I can see Tony and Nikki talking to Patch, and Steve is talking to Bulldog. As I watch, Tinsley steps up to him, and the attorney takes the tiny baby in his arms, talking to the little guy the whole time. I never pictured Steve as being a baby person, but then I remember that he's got a little girl, and I can definitely see him being the quintessential girl dad.

I wake Sela up on my way to shower, and by the time I'm finished, she's picked out her clothes for the day and is ready to take her turn. I dress, make some coffee, and when she's finished and dressed, we sit down for a few minutes, drink the coffee and chat, and then head out.

Everybody's obviously in the kitchen, so we wander that way. When the door opens, there's laughter and chatter everywhere. The kids are running around, Taylor in the lead, and Fiona is yelling at them to sit down and eat. Elmore is rumbling along behind them, stopping here and there to see if somebody will give him something from the table, but they all tell him no―Reboot's orders. Smack in the middle of the racket are Tony, Nikki, and Steve, laughing and talking with everybody who says anything to them. They all look up as we step in, and Tony rises and heads straight for us. "Bear! Good to see you!" he says, all smiles, and when his hand comes out, I take it for a one-sided bro hug. "You doin' okay? Heard about the accident."

"Yeah, I'm fine. Trying to keep up with her," I say and throw a thumb at Sela.

"Sela, honey, you doin' okay?" he asks, his hands gripping her upper arms lightly as he looks into her face.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Not as good as I'd hoped, but good enough."

He pats her upper arms and smiles. "It'll be fine. Just takes time. But you look good! Come on over and say hi to Nikki. We've been thinking about you ever since, well, the thing with Natalie."

"Thanks. I appreciate it."

"Hey, babe, look who's here!" Tony says and moves aside so Nikki can see my girl.

"Sela! Oh my god, I'm so glad you're here!" The tiny blond runs straight to Sela and gives her a big, warm hug. For the first time I can ever remember, I see Sela hug her back. She usually recoils like somebody's trying to stab her, but I've never seen anybody reject one of Nikki's hugs. "You're lookin' good, honey! Are you here full time now?"

"Uh, yeah. Moved in with Miles, um, Bear."

"That's great! Isn't this a wonderful place? And you fit right in! So you're doing okay? Need anything? Are you still going to therapy?"

"No. I hated therapy. They put me in a nursing home and―"

"Oh, good lord! You sure as hell didn't belong there! I bet we can find somebody who'll come out here and work with you so you don't have to drive to find somebody. Don't you think so, Tony?" she asks her tall husband.

"Oh, I'm sure we can. You two can work on that while we're here, I bet. Baby, don't forget to make arrangements with Fiona to pick her up at school and go over to see the horse" he says with a grin.

"Oh! Yeah, I need to do that! Guess I should talk to her and Sarah. We'll catch up in a little bit, okay?" she says and pats Sela on the shoulder. "I need to run to stop them before they leave!"

"She's sure cheerful in the morning," Sela says just loudly enough that Tony and I can hear her.

"She wakes up that way every morning. I thought she probably always did, but she told me that since we've been together, she's excited to wake up in the mornings because she's just sure the day will be amazing. It isn't always, but she's always hopeful that it will be. Gives me hope too. That woman is the only reason I'm still breathing." He's watching her go, and as soon as she clears the doorway, he sighs. "Guess I'd better get ready. We've got to be down the road in an hour for the registration at the auction. I sure hope Steve remembered my bank letter or we're screwed."

"Sounds like a busy day. Better eat before you have to go," I tell him and point at the stove.

"Miss Audrey's cooking? I'd never leave without eating whatever she's made! Y'all have a good breakfast. I'm going over there to fill my plate."

As he walks away, I glance over at Sela, then lean in toward her and whisper, "Are you checking out his ass?"

"Jesus, that man is fine. I mean, you are too, and younger, but holy hell. I think he's just about the prettiest thing I've ever seen." That makes me laugh. "Well, he is! Damn fine-looking man."

"His brother is prettier."

"Shut up! You're lying. That can't be."

"You've never met Vic, so you just don't know. Hell, I'm a man and I recognize how fine-looking he is. I thought Bulldog was going to turn wrong side out the first time he saw Vic."

"Bulldog? What do you mean?"

I lean even closer and whisper directly in her ear, "Bulldog's bi."

Sela yanks her head back and looks up at me, head tipped sideways and eyes cut. "You're not serious."

"I am. Turns out that's why he was so hostile to Hollywood when they both came here. He thought Hollywood was the cutest little piece of ass he'd ever seen, but he didn't dare say anything. We thought he was pissed off about the whole silver spoon thing, but it turns out he was just really, really frustrated because he was attracted to Hollywood but knew it could never happen, not if they were going to live and work together out here. Thankfully, Tinsley came along and caught his eye, and Hollywood had already met Audrey. Bulldog's been very clear that he adores Tinsley, but he had a rough time for a while there, and nobody but him knew why."

"Wow. I never would've… wow. I mean, wow ."

"Yeah. Shocked us all too. Never would've guessed, but yep. And now you know."

"On that note, I think I'm going to get some breakfast."

I'm laughing. "Me too." Nothing like shocking the shit outta your girlfriend first thing in the morning. I have a feeling I'll live for a chance at it in the near future.

Twenty minutes later, Patch does his usual morning talk. "So I guess by the end of the day we may have a lot more property than we do now, thanks to family over here at this table." He gestures toward Tony, Nikki, and Steve, and everybody applauds. "And that's all I've got for today. Anybody else?"

Reboot stands. "Bear, is there any chance you could take the dog to the vet? Doesn't have to be today, but maybe sometime this week if you―"

"Know who you want to take it to?"

"No. Anybody know a good vet?"

A woman's voice pipes up. "We made arrangements for a Dr.Lindsey to see Fiona's horse. Might want to call them. I'm not sure if he does small animals, but he does big ones," Nikki says.

"Will do. Thanks."

"If he can't, call animal control. They'll know somebody good," Priest offers.

"Good idea. Thanks." Guess I'm taking Elmore to the vet.

Patch gazes around. "Anybody else?" No one says a word. "Okay, time to go to work. Let's all have a good, safe day." Everyone heads out, but I grab my phone. As I'm scrolling through, I feel a presence near me and look up to find Nikki standing there.

"Is this the guy?" I ask and show her a page.

"Yeah. That's him. Nice fella. Tell them that you're one of my friends and I think that'll get you right in today. So, this dog―"

"Coydog that wandered up. Martin's in love with that dog."

Nikki smiles. "Yeah. I wondered how it came to be here. Got a messed-up paw, I noticed."

"Yeah. I'm hoping we can get some answers. Not everybody is crazy about him, but so far he's been friendly and sweet, and Martin adores him."

"Martin needs somebody who doesn't talk to him, somebody he can just ramble to and they'll listen. I think that dog is perfect for that reason. Does he have a name?"

"Yeah. Elmore."

"Like Elmore Leonard." I keep wondering where I've heard that name before, and I guess I give her a weird look. "You know, the guy who wrote the book that Justified came from. The Raylan Givens series."

"Oh! Yeah! I kept thinking I recognized the name!"

"Do y'all watch that around here?"

"Actually, we do."

"Then I bet that's where he got it. Cute name for a dog," she says, grinning.

"Agreed."

"Call over there and see if they can get you in. I'd better catch up with Tony. I want to be there when they start the bidding. He's the one who takes care of that stuff, but if I give him a funny look like I think he's going too far, he'll back down in a heartbeat. I don't want him second-guessing himself on this one. You fellas need that land, if for no other reason than an investment." Her hands land on us, one on my shoulder and one on Sela's. "Have a good day and we'll see you in a bit. And Sela, I really am glad you're here," she says as she turns to walk away.

"Thanks." As soon as she's out the door, Sela turns to look at me. "She's like a little tornado, isn't she?"

"Yep. More like a fairy godmother in a tornado. Tony's always looking out for the big picture, and Nikki sees the details. They're a great pair."

"Seems like it. Hey, call that vet and see what's going on so we know what the rest of our day looks like."

Ten minutes later, we're putting the leash on Elmore and coaxing him into the SUV. Once he's in, I wonder what's going to happen when we start rolling, because he sure didn't want to get in the vehicle. But I shouldn't have worried. Two miles down the road, I've put the window down about eight inches and his muzzle is out, sniffing the air. "He seems to like riding. But shoooo-wee, we need to find a groomer to bathe that thing. He's rank," Sela says, fanning her nose.

"Yeah. He really is. Wonder if somebody at the vet's office can do it. Sometimes they do."

"Gah. Let's ask. Ugh. It's getting worse."

I reach out to the dash. "Here. Let's turn on the air conditioning and see if that helps." A few minutes later, the stench is getting worse. "Not helping much."

"No. It's not. Can't wait until we get there to get some air."

I pull up and park, and Sela hops out to retrieve the dog. Before I can get around the SUV, I hear her say, "Holy fucking lord. Oh my god."

"What? What's… Oh, fuck me."

There's shit everywhere. I mean, everywhere . The seats, the door panels, the carpet. This dog has shit all over the back seat, and he's got it on him too. His feet, his sides, his tail. It's… My god, I can't believe it. "What the hell do we do?" Sela whispers.

"I don't… Stay here." I hit the office door running, and a startled receptionist looks up. "Hi, um, I'm Miles, and I have an appointment for Elmore, and we've got him outside, and there's been this, um, I dunno, explosion in the back seat, and he's―"

"Let me guess. Not familiar with car rides and he pooped everywhere."

A miniscule bit of my panic slips away. "Yes."

"I'll come out and get him and walk him around the back. We'll clean him up a bit before we take him in for an exam."

"That's amazing. Thank you. Thank you so much. I mean, really, thanks so much."

"Hey, it's okay. Don't worry about it. We'll take care of it."

"Oh, god, thank you. I've gotta go tell Sela… Do I―"

"Somebody will be out there in just a minute. Don't worry, Mr.McMillan. We've got this." I don't care what these people charge. Whatever it is, it'll be worth it.

Sela's standing there, her hand as far from her body as she can get it, holding the leash, trying to keep the dog away from her. "What the hell do I―"

"They're coming to get him."

"Thank god. This is awful."

"Yeah. So if I give you some money, will you take the car to the car wash and try to clean it up while I'm in there with him?"

"Sure. Yeah. Dog shit is my specialty. I live to scrape it off everything."

"Sela―"

"Just being an asshole. It's fine. Go."

"So I hear we have a little fella here who… Oh, wow," a young woman who looks to be mid-twenties says. "He really outdid himself, didn't he?"

"I'd say. I've never seen anything quite like this in my life," Sela responds. I'm with her. This exceeds all of my experiences, and I was in prison for thirty years, so that's really saying something.

"Come on, boy. We'll get you all cleaned up and Dr.Lindsey can give you something for your tummy." We watch as she disappears around the corner of the building with Elmore.

"Okay. Here's…" I'm scrambling through the contents of my pockets. "Um, forty dollars, and, oh, here's another five, and some change, and―"

"I've got it. Just go with the dog and I'll be back in a bit. Gotta stop at the dollar-type place and get some towels I can throw away. And then take another shower when we get home."

"Okay, if you're sure?" I say, trying to sound apologetic. Honestly, I'm glad I'm not the one doing it.

"Yeah, yeah. You're gonna owe me though," she says as she climbs into the driver's seat.

Me owing Sela. Yeahhhh. Somehow I think I might be better off doing the cleanup myself.

Sela

I swear to god, if I don't get this thing to the car wash soon, I'm going to be cleaning up puke too. I'm gagging. All the windows are down, and the stench is so horrific, I'm sure people around me can smell it. At the traffic light, a car stops beside me, and before the light can change, I see the guy's nose wrinkle up as he sniffs and figures out where the stank is coming from. I just give him a palms-up shrug and mouth, "Burritos." He frowns and hits the gas as the light changes. Nosy motherfucker.

Thankfully, there's nobody at the car wash when I roll up. I stop the big GMC in a bay and get to work. Not only did I buy towels, but I got a squeegee too, and I start by scraping all I can off the seats. That's only marginally effective. Then I wet down some cloths and start wiping. Did I mention I bought rubber gloves too? Yeah. No way was I touching this mess.

But I only seem to be smearing it around. I really need some professional help, like car detailing professional help, but yes, professional therapy will come into play after this too, I'm sure. I can't imagine I'm going to forget this anytime soon. There's a guy working at the car wash, cleaning and stuff, and he comes over to where I'm working. "Whew! You drew the shit job today! Literally!"

"Yeah, no shit. And that phrase doesn't work here either. You work here. Got some advice?"

"Truth?"

"No, lie to me. Of course, the truth."

"Truth is, your best bet is to let it dry and then scrape it off. Using wet stuff just makes it worse."

"And how do you propose that we don't throw up constantly while we're waiting for it to dry?"

"Hmmm. Hey, I've got an idea. Let's see if it works. Pull around here in the auto wash bay. Don't worry―I'll turn everything off. But if we can get you to the other end, open all the doors and windows, and turn on the dryers, maybe we can get enough air through it to dry everything out. Four cycles is about two minutes, but it might work. Wanna try it?"

"Buddy, at this point, I'd opt for a propane torch, so yeah. I'm game."

I drive the giant shit box into the bay and he motions to me to pull forward, then to stop. "All the windows and doors open. Step out here. Otherwise, you'll look like you've been in a tornado."

"Can't look much worse than I do right now," I grouse under my breath as I step outside the concrete block enclosure and stand out by the vacuum stations. And that's when I see it.

There's a car across the street, facing the car wash. It was behind me when I was driving here, and now it's sitting over there. And there are two men in it. That makes me sit up and take notice. I look at my watch, and I have no idea how many times this dryer thing has run, but I know it's run at least once and started again. The boy wonder from the car wash is checking on it occasionally, and that leaves me free to stare at the car out of the corner of my eye. They're not moving, just sitting there.

Watching me.

Now there's no doubt what I'm seeing. "How's it coming?" I yell to the kid as I step back toward the vehicle.

"Looks like it needs four more cycles, but then it should be good." I give him a thumbs up and go back to leaning against the vacuums. Yeah. The guys are still there. When I finally hear it cut off, I step back up to the GMC. "Tell you what. I've got another squeegee in the booth. Pull over there to the vacuums and get started and I'll grab it and help you. Just scrape and vacuum, scrape and vacuum."

"Okay. Thanks." Once I've pulled up to the vacuums, I get to work and, damn, that kid was right. The stuff is crumbling off the seat, door panel, and up from the carpet, and when I've gotten a big area done, I grab a vacuum hose and vacuum up the dried crud. He's come up on the other side, and he's working along too. In ten minutes, it looks pretty good.

We scrape and vacuum for another ten minutes before he stops and takes a long look. "Hey, this looks all right."

I straighten and look at it. "Yeah. It actually does. Thanks!"

"Okay, get a couple of rags, wet them, and let's wipe it down. That should finish it off nicely." Sure enough, he's right. Another five minutes, and you really can't tell that anything happened in the car. There's a little bit on the back of a headrest, but that wipes right off. "Hang on. I've got something else. Just a sec." There's a box of something under his arm when he returns from the control booth. "Let's put these around under the seats. That'll help." They're cinnamon air fresheners, and in a few minutes, the soothing scent starts to permeate the car.

"Oh, this is nice," I murmur.

"Yeah. We did a good job."

"I owe it all to you. Can you guys take tips?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess." I hand him a twenty, and he smiles. "Oh, wow. Thank you! That's great. I really appreciate it."

"And I appreciate you. You have a great day, okay?"

"You too! By the way, if you ever want to talk or just have a burger or something… Could I have…"

"I don't think my boyfriend would like that very much," I tell him, trying to make my face seem apologetic.

"Oh. Did he do that?" he asks and points to the back seat.

That makes me laugh so hard I can barely talk. "Yeah, he's got a spastic colon! If I get to the point where I can't take it anymore, I'll come back and look you up. How's that?"

"Cool! Okay. Here's hoping he shits himself blind then!" he says with a snicker as I start the SUV, a huge grin on his face. Yeah, little man, you just keep on dreamin'. Wait until I tell Miles about this.

I pull out of the car wash onto the street and look in my rearview. At first, I don't see them, but by the time I've gotten to the third light, sure enough, there they are behind me. Now I'm wondering when they picked me up earlier. Were they waiting outside the drive to the farm? Or did they see me up here at the vet's office and follow me? I wasn't driving, so I really wasn't paying attention, and that's my fault. I know better. Of course, the smell from hell distracted me, but that's no excuse. When I pull up to the vet's office, Miles isn't outside, so I park and step inside.

"Hi," the same twenty-something girl says. "They're right back there if you want to go back."

"Sure." The hallway runs behind the reception desk, and she points to the correct room when I reach it.

Elmore is on the table, and the vet is feeling all over him. He seems to be enjoying the attention, and there's no sign of the goo that he was wearing when he got out of the car. "How's it going?"

"Good. He's really well-behaved," Miles says and scratches under the dog's chin.

The vet sighs. "He really is. Helluva sight better than the golden retriever I had in here earlier. That dog was crazy."

"So is he really a coydog?" I ask, hoping the vet will know.

"Yeah. Absolutely. I can see all the markers, and he's built right too. We have more of these around than you'd think. Matter of fact, got a guy who used to raise them. I think he got arrested for alligators or some such nonsense. Rumor has it that he gave away the coydogs, but he kept a few and left them tied around his property to starve. If I had to guess, I'd say this one is one of them."

"That's totally fucked up," Miles mumbles.

"Yeah. It really is. Fish and wildlife went out and put a bunch of them down, but some had chewed through their ropes and gotten away."

"He was wearing a dirty, ragged rope when he wandered up at the farm, so that's probably where he came from."

The vet nods. "Yeah, he's been beaten, but not too severely. The foot has been broken and left to heal incorrectly, so I'm not sure we can do much with it, but I'll try. Probably put a boot on it and see if he tolerates that. And a couple of the pads have deep cuts, so we'll take care of that too. I'm sure glad his tummy seems to be empty. That smell… That was pretty horrible."

"You should've been the one cleaning it up," I tell the vet, my nose wrinkled up.

"Did you actually manage to get it all out?" Miles asks.

"Yeah. Kid at the car wash helped me with it or I'd probably still be there. He tried to ask me out, but I told him I have a boyfriend."

Miles' eyebrows shoot up. "Oh, yeah? And what did he say?"

"He asked me if you made that mess in the back seat."

Now he looks really alarmed. "What did you tell him?"

"Of course I told him you did it! I told him you have a spastic colon. Not passing up a chance to say something like that, dude," I say, the vet laughing the whole time.

Based on his expression, I'm unsure how Miles feels about that. "You told him I shit all over the back seat?"

I nod purposefully. "I did. I told him if I ever got tired of cleaning up after you, I'd come looking for him. Gotta give the kid some hope."

"Holy hell. Be sure to tell me which car wash it was. I can never go there."

"He didn't see you. He won't know it was you. Oh, wait! I showed him a picture of you," I lie.

"You… You showed him a picture―" he bellows. The vet has given up and is hee-hawing.

"Calm your tits, babe. I didn't. I'm just messing with you." It's taking everything I have to keep from shrieking with laughter.

"Good lord. Last time I take you anywhere."

"That's okay. It's the last time I take him anywhere," I answer and point at Elmore.

Miles nods. "Gotta say I'm in agreement with that."

"You probably won't have more of that trouble with him. I think he had stomach upset brought on by new food. Feed him tonight but don't take him anywhere. He'll adjust to it pretty soon. Might want to give him a little cottage cheese with the food. That'll help his stomach. But other than looking emaciated, being tired, and having a bum paw, he looks to be in pretty good health. Good teeth, skin's good, ears are clean now, he's had all his vaccinations and he's been wormed, which may also upset his stomach a little, so give him plenty of time outdoors for the next few days. I'll set you up with some heartworm, flea, tick, and internal parasites medication and he'll be all set."

"Thanks, sir. I appreciate it."

"You're welcome. Sorry you had such a rough trip here. Oh, and can you please tell Mrs.Walters that the horse over at Gus Erickson's place is doing great. I hear she's in town."

"Will do. Gladly. Thanks so much."

"You're very welcome. Just pay Christine on the way out and we'll give you a tag for him and all of his papers."

I take the dog outside while Miles pays the young woman at the desk. Poor thing is appropriately subdued now. I'm guessing he's in shock from the poop and the bath and the vet visit. "Hey, pup," I whisper and reach down to stroke his head. "Everything's okay. The car is clean, you're clean, and we can go home now. You'll get to see Martin! It'll all be fine." As soon as I straighten up, I look around like I'm looking for Miles, but I'm really scanning.

Yep. They're across the street.

In a few seconds, he joins me on the sidewalk. "Ready?"

"Yeah. Hey, I bought a blanket at the store too and put it in the back seat for him. Thought it might protect the seat."

"Sure can't hurt. Okay, boy," Miles says as he opens the door. "Up you go." It's interesting to note that he doesn't balk like he did at the farm, just hops right up in the back seat. "Well, that was easy enough. You drivin'?"

"Nope." I hand him the keys and round the SUV to get in. As soon as the doors are closed, I turn my head with my back to the window and say, "Look straight out the front windshield. Do not turn and look. There's a gray car across the street with two men in it."

"Okay."

"It followed me to the car wash."

There's no change in his expression but he says, "Okay. And now they're here."

"Yeah. I don't think that's a coincidence."

"How long had they been following us before the car wash?"

"I wasn't driving, so I don't know if they picked up our trail in Mallie, or in town somewhere, or what. But it's no coincidence that I've now seen them several places I've been."

"No. It's not. I'm going to pull out. That will give me an excuse to look that way." I watch as he checks traffic, but his eyes are scanning. "Yeah. I see them over there."

"So I'm not imagining it."

"No. Definitely not." There's a wicked gleam in his eye. "Let's have some fun with them," he says as he pulls out onto the street, and I can see in the rearview on my side that they're pulling out of their parking space.

"What are we doing?"

"We're gonna confuse the hell outta them. Just make sure you're buckled up." He takes off, and I see them a couple of cars back, trying to catch up. As soon as he gets to a corner with no stoplight and a building right on the side of the street, he turns right and makes an immediate U-turn, but he doesn't pull up to the stop sign. They turn the corner, and we take off, turning right and heading back out on the highway. By the time they pull back out, we're a block in front of them, and he takes a quick left, drives half a block, turns left into an alley, and then left on the next street and to the stop sign. We see them drive past to turn at the next corner, and he pulls in behind them. They apparently don't notice us, because as they turn left, he sits down on the horn and flips them off out the window, then guns the big SUV. Now they've turned down the side street and we're still headed toward Mallie.

"Holy shit, this is fun," I say, looking behind us. I can see them way down the street, sitting there at the stop sign to our left, waiting to get out on the street. As soon as they do, Miles turns right again, then left at the next corner, then another left, and back out to the main street. We watch as they turn where we turned initially, and he drives across the main street and down another side street, then turns left. I know what he's doing. He's hoping to meet them head on.

"Here. Look up Preston and hit his contact, then put it on speaker," he says and tosses his phone to me.

I do what he says, and someone answers, "Hey, Bear! How's it goin'?"

"Hey, Preston, I'm in Hazard and―"

"Oh! Wanna grab a bite?"

"We've got somebody tailing us."

"No shit?"

"No shit. Can you help me out?"

"You got it. Where are you?"

"Um… I see a building that says Carter's Tires."

"I know exactly where you are. On my way." And the phone goes dead.

"Who was that?" I ask, bewildered.

"Preston Ramage. He's a city police officer."

Oh, wow. I think these guys are fucking with the wrong ex-con. In a couple of minutes, I hear a siren and the phone rings. I just hit ACCEPT and then speaker. "Bear, you hear me?"

"Yeah. You're somewhere behind me."

"Do you see them?"

He stops at the stop sign and, sure enough, there they are―facing us. "Yeah. They're directly across from me on the other side of Main Street."

"Look in your rearview." I turn just as Miles looks up in his mirror and sure enough, there's a Dodge Charger cruiser right behind us. "Sit still. I'll take care of this. And when I do, you drive straight to Mallie."

"Roger that. But be careful. We have reason to believe they're from a cartel."

"Shit. Wish you'd told me that earlier. I've got it under control." And the phone goes dead again. Before I can speak, the cruiser passes us and faces up on the car. We can see Preston on the radio, so I'm not too worried. As Miles turns out onto Main Street, I can see three more cruisers, one behind us and two in front, coming our direction. Miles just keeps moving, picking up speed a little, and in three minutes, we're out of Hazard and on the open road.

We pull into the farm and straight to the equipment shed where the vehicles are parked. I hop out and open the back door, and Elmore drops to the ground, whimpering only slightly at the boot the vet put on his foot. I can see Ghost coming out of the kitchen area, and I realize they just finished lunch. "What now?"

"Now we go to the kitchen to eat and hope Patch is in there." With Elmore between us, we set out for the kitchen. And we're halfway there when a black sedan roars up and slides to a stop in front of us. "Oh, joy," Miles mutters. "Can't wait to hear this."

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Morreau screams our direction.

"Do you see cartel members here?" Miles asks calmly.

"No."

"Then I did a good job."

"We were watching them!"

"Then you know the Hazard Police Department stopped them and talked to them."

Morreau folds his arms across his chest. "And what did they say to them?"

"Well, I don't know," Miles answers in the snarkiest voice I think I've ever heard. "Why don't we ask them?" Phone in hand, he hits a contact.

"Hey, big guy! Well, that was fun!"

"Yeah? What did they have to say for themselves?"

"Said it must've been a coincidence because they were just here sightseeing. You guys okay?"

"Yes and no. Yes, we're fine. No, we've got a pissed off feeb standing here yelling at us."

"Oh! Am I on speaker?"

"Yep."

"Hello, AgentMorreau! How are you this beautiful day?" Preston asks, and it's all I can do to keep from laughing.

"What the fuck? Who is this?"

"LieutenantPreston Ramage of the Hazard Police Department. I realize you're shocked that I know who you are, but you have to understand, in this area, we all have each other's backs, so I've known you were here ever since you talked to SheriffStafford."

"Bunch of redneck bumpkins," Landrum grumbles under his breath.

"Hey, you need to show some respect. You're strangers in these parts. If you can't be respectful, you won't get an ounce of cooperation, and your boss isn't going to like that at all," Miles says.

"And I'll be sure to call him and tell him," I add.

"Of course you will. Look, Ramage, leave those guys alone. We're taking care of this," Morreau orders.

"You work with us. We don't work for you. You best remember that, Morreau. I'm going to do what I think is necessary to take care of the people of this town. We're not going to have a pissing contest," Preston warns.

Morreau glares at me. "I don't even know why we're doing this. We should just let them have you, but they'd take JudgeAnderson too, and she's our real concern."

That statement washes over me like sulfuric acid. "So you don't give two shits about me anyway. You're here for Natalie, and I'm just extraneous work."

"Extraneous. I like that word." Landrum grins at me. "You said it. We didn't."

"No, you definitely said it in all the ways that matter. Get in your car and go. You're not welcome here," Miles says, his voice smoky and low. "And if you ever show up out here again, I can't promise you that you'll be safe."

"You threatening us, convict?" Morreau asks, his voice snotty.

"Nope. Not a threat. It's a promise. I can't have a weapon, but I don't live out here alone."

"No. He doesn't," a voice says, and there's a sound behind me that I recognize. It's a round being racked into the chamber of a handgun. "It's actually legal for me to have a weapon, and I just might have to use it. Get off our property. Now," Reboot orders.

"You're kidding, right?" Morreau says, his eyes wide.

"No. But you'd be surprised how fast I can draw this thing if I have to. You're not welcome here. Go." I can see the outside of the shop building just well enough to see Hollywood crossing the grass with a shotgun, and Bulldog's got one too. "Now would be the time for you to make your exit."

They both seem to understand that nobody wants them here, and they turn toward the car. As they reach it, Morreau glares at me. "You realize you're now on your own."

"No, I'm not. I've got a family here, and I'll be fine without the likes of the two of you," I bark. "Get the hell outta here." We all stand and watch as they turn the sedan around and take off, throwing gravel as they go.

"What the hell was that about?" Patch asks as he steps up to us.

Miles is still talking to Preston, and I've already pulled my phone out and hit the contact. "Good afternoon. You've reached the office of the FBI Protective Details Division. How may I direct your call?"

"Valerie, it's SelaBaldwin. I need to talk to Andrew."

"Sure. You doin' okay? Been missing you."

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just need to talk to him."

"Uh, okay. Hang on." There's that sucky hold music again. Really? It's awful. They should change that.

I hear some sounds and a voice answers, "Sela?"

"Andrew, what the fuck? We just chased Morreau and Landrum off the property out here."

"Why did you do that, Sela? They were sent there to make sure you're safe."

"The fuck you say!" I scream into the phone. "They just told me I'm extraneous!"

"What does that even mean?" he asks, and I can tell he's confused.

"They told me the only reason they're here is because of Natalie because I'm extraneous ! That was the exact word they used! You want somebody out here, you need to get somebody out here who doesn't call local law enforcement redneck bumpkins and tell me I'm extraneous!"

"Calm down, Sela. I'll get to the bottom of this and in the meantime, I'll find somebody else."

"Yeah, well, they need to be respectful and want to work with us, not run roughshod over us. That won't work here. And in the meantime of your meantime, I'm going to work on it from this end. I'm not without resources."

"Resources? What kind of―"

"Thanks, Andrew. Hope to hear from you soon." I just hang up. No more words from him. They mean very little anyway.

Patch's voice is stern. "We need to have a sit-down. All of us, later, when Steve and Tony are back."

"Yes, sir," I answer, not even thinking about what I'm saying. It just comes naturally with him. Patch is the authority figure here, and no one questions that.

"Speak of the devil," I hear Bulldog murmur, and we turn to see Tony's big black Yukon Denali pull in and two of Steve's men open the rear doors. As soon as the tall Italian man's feet hit the ground, he jets straight for the little group standing on the lawn, Steve right beside him.

"This doesn't look good. What's going on?" Tony asks as soon as he reaches us.

"Long story, but we all need to talk about it. How'd the auction go?" Patch asks.

"Farm is yours. University reps were there and they're on board. There was only one other person bidding against us, and he ran out of money real quick."

"Do you know who he was?" Miles asks.

"Yeah. I do. We had a discussion afterward and I'm giving him ten acres on the far side of the farm. He's the grandson of the Pettits, but he really didn't have the kind of money that size place would go for. He asked about moving the house and keeping it, but I took a good look at it and it would never survive a move. Giving him the spot it sits on wouldn't work for the interpretative farm. But we can build him something new and nice for not a lot of money. According to him, the sale was his uncle's idea, not his, and he wanted the house, but the rest of the family wanted the money from the sale. This guy should be rewarded. He wanted to keep his family history alive, and they just wanted dollars, so I'm going to give him what he needs. The university rep told him he would be instrumental in helping them with the history of the place and the story of his grandparents, and he seemed really excited about that." Tony hesitates for a minute, then says, "I hope that's okay with you guys, giving him a parcel. I felt like it was the right thing to do."

"Oh, no, that's totally your call," Patch says. "I think that's a great gesture. We don't preserve enough of African American culture in this nation, and this will go a long way, at least in this area." And now I get it, Tony being Italian and all.

I didn't realize the Pettits were black. Did I mention my Grandma Irene was black? Can't tell it by looking at me, but yeah. After hearing her stories as I was growing up, I definitely get it.

"So what's going on here? Gotta say, I've never been greeted this way," Steve says with a sneer.

Patch rubs his temple. "Long story. We'll talk about it after dinner. You guys are staying, aren't you?"

"To eat Audrey's cooking? Hell yeah. Not going anywhere." Tony turned to glance behind him. "Anybody see Nikki? I thought she was right behind me."

"Saw her head into the kitchen," Reboot offers.

"Of course. She'll be right in the middle of it. Guess I'll go over to the lodge and watch a little TV. You guys finished for the day?"

"Nah. We've got a couple more hours," Bulldog says.

"Mind if I tag along? I'd love to watch some of what you do."

"You're more than welcome. Steve?"

"Yeah. I'll come too," Steve adds, and they start en masse toward the shop.

Just as they reach the shop door, Patch wheels and stares out our way to call out, "Sela, watch your back! Bear―"

"I know. Eyes on her," Miles calls back to him. Patch gives him a thumbs up, and they all disappear into the shop. When I turn to look at the man beside me, I can see his fingers twitching, and I smile. "What? I want to go back to work."

"I know. I'm sorry." All of a sudden, I realize I'm really hungry. And Elmore is still standing there between us, placid, his tail wagging slightly when I look down at him. "Let's see if there's anything left to eat in the kitchen and take this poor doggo to get a drink." With a little tug on his leash, he stands, and I head toward the kitchen. "Come on, boy. We'll get you some water."

Nikki's the only one left in the kitchen when we step in, and she's making sandwiches. As soon as she sees us, she smiles. "Figured the guys might be hungry. Where'd they go?"

"They're over in the shop with the rest of the crew."

"You two haven't eaten, have you?"

"No, ma'am. We haven't," Miles answers politely.

"Then here. You eat these and I can make more. I'm making myself one too. I haven't had lunch either. Mind if I sit with you?"

I shoot her a smile. "Of course not! That would be great."

"Oh, here." I watch as she ransacks a couple of cabinets, comes out with a big bowl, and fills it with water. "Here, pupper. You look a little ragged." When she sets the bowl down, Elmore steps up to it and starts to drink deeply. "Bless his heart. He was thirsty! Oh, wow. He smells good." As he drinks, Miles unclips the leash and hangs it on a hook by the door, but the dog doesn't flinch, just keeps drinking.

In a couple of minutes, we have Nikki screaming with laughter when we tell her about our escapades that afternoon with Elmore. We sit and eat and chat, and time flies. Nikki is really amazing. She's easy to talk to, fun, and she seems to really care about people. Natalie told me that there's nothing even remotely fake about Nikki and Tony―what you see is what you get. I see that now just from talking to her.

The sound of the door opening behind us makes us turn, and we look up to see Tony and Steve striding across the room. Nikki starts to laugh. "Hungry?"

"Starved. Forgot to eat. But watching them was really cool. I think Steve picked out something," Tony says and heads to the refrigerator.

"Yeah. Bulldog's going to make me a claymore sword," the big attorney says.

"Claymore. Scottish?" I ask.

He nods. "My name is McCoy."

Tony takes over the conversation as soon as he has his sandwich in hand. "So, what was up with the black sedan rolling out of the drive? I know a fed when I see one."

"Caught that, did you?" I ask, grimacing.

"Yeah. Couldn't miss it. What's the story?"

I set about telling him what I know, and he really doesn't react. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but it's not happening. When I finish, I look at Miles and he pats my hand under the table.

"Sounds like you need some help," Tony says dispassionately.

"I could use some."

He glances over at Steve. "McCoy, take care of this, wouldja?"

"Sure thing. How many people you think you'll need?"

I shrug. "I dunno. Maybe ten?"

Steve nods. "Let's shoot for fifteen. Hey, boss, maybe Angelo could help us out."

"You know, that's a good idea," Tony says just as he starts to take another bite.

"Who's Angelo?"

Mouth full of food, Tony nods to Steve, who picks up the question. "Tony's cousin, AngeloCabrizzi. He's former AISI. Italian version of our FBI. Did a stint with the AISE―their CIA―and did some undercover work as SISMI. That's terrorism. He's private security now. Mercenary."

"So he's in Italy? What could he do for us?"

Tony swallows and snickers as he looks at his sandwich. "What can't he do? The guy can get information that nobody in our country can. I've seen him do it. Headed up a strike against a blackmail and assassination ring led by a guy who'd faked his own death and took them all down. My uncle, Vic's father. He's dead now, but we'd thought he was dead years earlier. Angelo actually managed to infiltrate his operation and broke it down from the inside. Guy's amazing."

"So you think he could get information on the cartel?" I'm feeling a lot more hopeful.

"If he can't, nobody can. He's got contacts all over the world―every country, Interpol, Scotland Yard, CIA, Secret Service, French DST and DGSE, everywhere. You got a problem you need solved, Angelo's the guy to see, a man who's not above walking the line between ethical and unethical to get the job done." And he takes another bite of his sandwich, totally unconcerned. Holy shit. I feel like I'm in the presence of greatness, and he's just a guy in a tee shirt and jeans sitting across the table from me. "I'll call him up later and see what he can do. Steve, you got any people in this end of the state yet?"

"Not yet. Hoping to pretty soon." Oh, damn, I feel my chance coming on. "Getting Marshall up here and getting him set up, finding a little office location in Ashland, finding more people―"

"Would you consider Sela as one of those people?" Miles asks before I have a chance. I hate when somebody else takes words right out of my mouth. Fucker.

"Why? You interested, Sela?" Steve says, staring at me.

Be nice. Miles was only trying to help. Don't bite the hand that feeds you , I tell myself. "I might be."

"You willing to leave the bureau?"

Oh, fuck. This is hard. "I think the bureau may have left me."

"Because of your injuries?" I nod. "Motherfuckers. Yeah. I'd definitely like to have you on board. Could you relocate to Ashland?"

"I'm sure I could." Miles' face isn't in my range of vision, and I'm glad. He's probably frowning.

"Maybe it would be best if you were here. You know, get a couple of employees under you and―"

"You'd consider that?"

"You were FBI. You're far more highly trained than most of the people I can hire off the street, except maybe for other law enforcement types. You could set up a training program and cover this whole region. Marshall in the northern part, you in the southern… perfect."

Well, hell, that was easy enough. I glance over at Miles and he winks at me. There's just one thing bothering me. "You think we'd really have enough work?"

"I can guarantee we would. There's all kinds of weird, crazy shit going on in this end of the state. No question. There's no one else doing what we'd be doing on this end of the state. Yeah, we might catch a few cheating husband cases, but there are a lot of businesses in this end of the state that could use our services, and politicians, and other… things."

I chuckle. "You mean nefarious operations?"

Tony laughs. "What? Steve? Nefarious operations? You've got to be kidding, right? Because no one would ever believe Steve would do anything nefarious. Right, Steve?"

"Uh, yeah. Right. Nothing nefarious. Ever." And the blond attorney rolls his eyes. I like these two. They're my kinda people.

"Then it's settled. Steve is going to hire you and you're going to be management at Citadel Security. And you're going to have plenty of help and protection. And we're going to stay a couple more days to get everything in order, and by the time we leave, you'll have paperwork and all that shit. Right, Steve?"

"Absolutely. Paperwork and everything. I'll call Marshall and ask him to come tomorrow. He's been here before, but I left him behind to finish up something."

Tony hums before he asks, "Ummmm, that thing with the guy?"

Steve nods. "Yeah. That's the one."

"Think he'll shoot the asshole?"

"I'm pretty sure he will."

"Got a plan to take care of that?"

Steve leans back and frowns as he looks at Tony. "Don't I always?"

"Yep. So that's good. Nice work."

"Thanks," Steve says. "We're tidy." Shit, I really like this guy. I can hear Nikki chuckling down the table, and he leans over and asks, "What are you laughing about?"

"I can picture Marshall at the hardware store, buying plastic sheeting, rope, and duct tape."

"No. I have that shit delivered by the truckload," Steve says, taking another bite of sandwich.

"Don't let him fool you. He's a cheap-ass. He sends them to Walmart with his cash-back credit card," Tony says and side-eyes Steve.

"Oh, you know me so well," Steve declares and crunches a chip.

Miles throws a thumb in my direction. "I can tell right now that she's gonna fit in just fine."

"Why? Are you full of shit too?" Tony asks me.

"Well, you can't tell it because my eyes aren't brown, but give me a couple of weeks working for him," I say as I point to Steve, "and I'm pretty sure my levels will go up until they change."

"That's the spirit!" Steve crows, and we all laugh. I think everything's going to be just fine. Right this second, I feel better than I have in weeks, knowing that I'm going to have purpose in my life again.

That's if some cartel asshole doesn't kill me on the first day.