Chapter Fourteen

Nash

N ash woke up late and glared bleary-eyed around his motel room. He had liked the cozy feel of home, sleeping in Dolly’s bed in her Winnebago. He hadn’t liked that she still didn’t trust him about what was going on with her. Last year, Nash would have put her on the suspects list because she knew something about the rodeo that she was keeping a secret. He hated to admit it, but her past as an escort might have even colored his opinion a bit.

Except over the past year, he had gotten to know her. She was a good person and she genuinely wanted to succeed in her job. That put her on Shelby’s side and so Nash was willing to give her time to come to him. But he was suspicious about what she was hiding. Maybe her future brother-in-law, Shane, wasn’t as on the up-and-up as he should have been.

It gutted him that being with Dolly might be a big mistake. Her default was to spin things and work around the rules. His was the exact opposite. He thought he could bend a little about that, but he couldn’t. While he realized she might not be ready to tell him that she used to be an escort, she should be able to be honest with him about the investigation they were working on.

He needed her for Laredo, to be his cover while he looked into what the stock suppliers were bringing into the rodeo. She could get him into the back areas and then distract everyone with her smoke and mirror social media show.

Rocky Ridge was coming in from Canada. Jaripeo was coming in from Mexico. And Viking was in the United States. Nash couldn’t rule any of them out. And out of all of them, Dolly had a stake in keeping Nash away from Shane and the Viking Ranch.

His phone rang just as he had finished checking out of the motel.

“Hey, Shelby,” he said. “I’m heading off to Laredo.” He needed to get the lay of the land before the stock suppliers headed into the rodeo grounds this weekend.

“Actually, I need you to come here. To Dallas. To my office. Right now.”

Shelby was talking fast and he could hear the panic in her voice.

“What’s going on? Did Blevins do something?”

“You need to be here for a meeting at ten.”

He cut his eyes to his dashboard clock. He’d barely make it, if he left now and pushed over the speed limit the whole way there. “I’m two hours away and Dallas is in the opposite direction of where I’m going. Are you sure we can’t do this over the phone?” he said.

“Positive. It’s an emergency.”

Shelby didn’t use words like emergency unless it really was one. “Are you all right?”

“I will be once you get here.”

“Is it Mom?”

“No.”

“Can you talk freely?”

She forced a half-laugh. “No.”

“Are you in danger?”

“No,” she said more seriously.

“Is it Dad?”

Shelby hesitated. “It’s complicated.”

Fuck. Of course it was. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

As soon as it was safe, he turned around and put his foot down on the gas. He wasn’t sure what time Dolly got into the office, but she didn’t answer her phone when he called. It was early but it had gone right to voicemail.

He tried to ignore the sick feeling in his gut that there was something really wrong in the Dallas headquarters. For shits and giggles, he called Jackson Blevin’s office line.

“UPRC,” a woman’s nasally voice said.

“Who’s this?” he asked gruffly, deepening his voice.

“This is Debbi. Who is this?”

“Get me Jackson Blevins.”

“Um. He’s not available right now.”

“Where is he?”

“Do you have an appointment? Because all of his appointments have been canceled today.”

Is that right? “Why?” he barked, hoping to intimidate her into answering.

“Who is this?”

“Shane Calland,” Nash barked, using Dolly’s brother-in-law’s name. “From the Viking Ranch. I need to talk to him about Laredo.”

“I’ll pass along the message to him.” And then she hung up on him.

Interesting. Nash considered calling back and saying he was from the other two stock suppliers, but he didn’t think he could pull off two different voices.

His phone rang again and this time, he didn’t recognize the number. He wondered if it was his father. He pulled the truck over, even though he couldn’t really afford to and still make it in time for Shelby’s meeting.

“Nash?” It was Finn.

“Why are you up so early?” he asked, annoyed now that he’d pulled over for this.

“I know you’re not on the roster for Laredo, but I wanted to give you a heads-up, just in case you get Dolly to sweet-talk them into getting you back on the lists.”

Nash hoped it didn’t come to that. His back still ached from riding. “What’s the heads-up?”

“I just heard from a guy I know about the bulls coming up next week. They’ve got a seventy-five percent success rate.”

Nash whistled. Out of one hundred rides, only twenty-five bull riders went the eight seconds. “Damn.”

“That’s not all. Ten of them are from a different stock contractor.”

“Wait,” Nash said, grabbing a pen so he could take notes on a crumpled napkin that had been on the floor. “I thought the UPRC could only use the three stock contractors now.”

“Well, I think Jaripeo is accepting a commission to put other stock contractors’ bulls in their shipment.”

“Anyone going to tell the bosses about this outsourcing?”

“Not unless you want to be labeled a snitch.”

Nash clenched his jaw. Yeah, that was exactly what he didn’t want to be labeled as. Not here too. “A snitch?” He had to remind himself that Finn didn’t know his past as a whistle-blower, and wouldn’t understand how much that word stung.

“The other guys aren’t thrilled about the unknowns, but what can you do? I’m calling to just give you the heads-up that you might want to sit this rodeo out. Just in case they’re too much to handle. No offense.”

“Thanks for letting me know,” Nash said. This made this shipment even more interesting. “But I’ll be there, one way or another. Count on it.”

Finn hesitated before responding, clearly worried. “You sure about that? You’re not exactly the best bull rider around here, and these bulls are no joke.”

“I know,” Nash admitted. “But I’m all in.” All in investigating these bulls, that was.

“You’re crazy, son. That’s what I like about you. Hey, how are things with you and Dolly?”

“None of your business,” he said, but Nash made sure his tone was lighthearted.

“All righty then. See you in a few days.”

The drive was long, but Nash made good time. When he pulled into the large parking lot of the office building, however, he hadn’t been expecting an ambulance to be idling by the front doors. He called Dolly again. To his relief, she answered on the first ring this time.

“What’s going on in there? There’s an ambulance out front.”

“Why are you here?” she said.

“Shelby called me in. Said she needed to talk to me. Do you know why?”

“No, but someone just beat the shit out of Blevins,” she whispered. “I walked into his office a few moments ago, and he was on the ground bleeding all over the place.”

“Are you all right?” Nash got out of the truck. “I’m coming up.”

“I’m fine. Hold off for a few until things die down. You don’t want anyone to recognize you from the rodeo.”

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. I’ll talk to you later.” He hung up and called Shelby. If Blevins had just gotten his bell rung, that couldn’t have been the reason why Shelby had wanted to have a meeting with him. “Hey, I’m going to need a copy of your security footage from this morning,” he said when she answered.

“Where are you?” Shelby’s voice was high and nervous.

“Right outside.”

“Come in through side door B and meet me in my office.”

Dolly had a good point about the danger of him being recognized now that everyone in the building would be on high alert for a new face coming into the building. He was dressed business casual, so it was possible that if there was anyone around from the rodeo, they might not recognize him on a first glance. It wouldn’t hold up if one of the bull riders or anyone he worked closely with saw him. No one should be near the headquarters on a Tuesday afternoon. The professional cowboys were either still sleeping in, back at home, or on their way to Laredo to get settled in to work their remote jobs while waiting for the weekend.

He supposed if worse came to worst, Dolly would find a way to put a spin on things.

“You sure about this?” Nash asked.

“Yes,” she said and there was something in her voice that made him sprint to the side door.

He was buzzed in almost before his hand reached the handle.

He took the elevator up to Shelby’s penthouse office and was relieved that he didn’t run into anyone he knew along the way. His hand paused mid-knock on the mahogany door to Shelby’s office, the brass nameplate catching the afternoon light. The door swung open before his knuckles could land.

Nash swept his gaze around Shelby’s office, taking in the rustic touches—a cowhide rug, a framed sketch of wild mustangs, the rough-hewn beams spanning the ceiling. It suited his sister, grounded yet elegant. Shelby sat behind an antique wooden desk, her brown hair twisted into an elegant chignon. But it was the man sitting across from her that made Nash stop cold.

Miles Garrett swiveled in his chair to face Nash, a smug smile stretching across his angular face. He stood and brushed a hand down his designer suit—Armani, if Nash had to guess. Same overpriced Italian leather shoes. Same Rolex peeking out from under a crisp white cuff.

The arrogant prick looked every inch the career FBI agent. And he had the balls to reach out his hand for Nash to shake.

Trying not to grind his teeth, Nash forced himself to shake his ex-partner’s hand.

“Nash. It’s been a while.”

“This is a surprise,” Nash said.

“More than you realize. You know Hector, right?”

Nash realized that there was someone else in the room. He had been so focused on Garrett, he hadn’t seen Hector Ortiz seated next to him.

“What the hell is going on here?” Nash asked.

Garrett closed the door and then perched a hip on Shelby’s desk. “Have a seat,” he said, gesturing to the chair he’d just vacated.

“I’ll stand,” Nash said. He exchanged a glance with Shelby. She looked confused and scared. Nash’s hands clenched into fists. If Garrett was threatening her…

“Hector isn’t who you think he is. He’s actually an undercover DEA agent nearing the end of a three-year-long operation,” Garrett continued, his tone dripping with patronizing patience. “Normally, as you know, we wouldn’t be offering up this information, but I’m afraid you’re going to screw things up for us. We’re trying to bust the Jaripeo Ranch for smuggling, and the new shipment of fighting bulls coming in from Mexico to Laredo’s rodeo next week could be the big break we’re looking for.”

Nash’s pulse quickened. He didn’t like the idea of working with Garrett again, but if it could bring closure to Shelby, he’d do it. “What about Jackson Blevins? Do you have him on your radar for being involved in the smuggling?”

A condescending smirk played at the corners of Garrett’s mouth. “We don’t have anything that points to either of the CEOs, your sister or Blevins, as being part of smuggling illegal goods in from Mexico.”

Nash was already shaking his head. “Blevins just got carried out of here on a stretcher after being worked over. Where I’m sitting, it looks like he is up to his eyeballs in something dirty.”

Garrett waved a dismissive hand. “Maybe yes, maybe no. We’ll look into it, sure. But our priority is shutting down the cartel’s connections. If we stop one avenue, we save lives.”

“You can save the rhetoric. I’ve heard it. My investigation, though, revolves around uncovering if Jackson Blevins is involved in anything illegal. Have either of you got anything on that?”

Hector and Garrett exchanged a look. “Nothing concrete.”

“Can you point me in a direction?”

“No,” Garrett said shortly.

Meaning yes, but he wasn’t going to tell Nash anything.

“Do you have anything for us you’d like to share?” Garrett asked.

“No,” Nash said with the same tone and expression.

Garrett’s face darkened. “If you have anything you’re keeping from us or if you get in the way of what’s going down in Laredo, I’ll have you arrested for obstruction.”

Nash thought about telling him about Jaripeo subcontracting other stock contractors for the bulls. He was used to being a “snitch” after all. And yet because of the way Garrett was acting, Nash didn’t say a word.

Garrett straightened his tie, the fabric slipping through his fingers with practiced ease, his gaze steady on Nash. Hector, standing just a step behind, shifted his weight from one foot to another, a subtle dance of impatience on the worn carpet.

The seconds stretched, bending the moment into something brittle. Finally, Garrett turned toward Hector and nodded toward the door. “We should get going. Lots of preparations to make before Laredo.” They left, shutting the door behind them.

Shelby let out a shaky sigh. “He said he used to be your partner.”

“Yeah,” Nash said.

“He’s the one you blew the whistle on, isn’t he?”

“He told you that?”

“No, your face just did and the way you two acted together.”

Figures. “I won’t let him get in the way of our investigation. I’m going to find out what Blevins is involved in and get him kicked out of this company, if not arrested.”

Shelby bit her lip, worry etched in the lines of her face. “I know you will, but be careful. I can’t afford to bail you out if you get arrested. My credit cards are maxed out as it is.”

It eased the knot in his chest that she could still joke around with him. “I’m going to go and search Blevins’s office.”

“Good luck. They’ve already been through it.”

“They might have missed something.” Nash doubted it, but he wanted eyes on the office anyway.

“The coast should be clear. I sent his secretary on a bunch of busy-work errands.” Shelby rubbed at her temples.

“Why did you lead me to believe that this had something to do with Dad?” he asked from the doorway.

“When Miles first contacted me and said he was with the FBI, I had assumed it was about Dad. I had no idea it was really about the Jaripeo Ranch.”

“So he didn’t mention our father at all?”

She shook her head. “No.” Opening her desk drawer, she pulled out a bottle of Gentleman Jack whiskey.

“It’s ten thirty in the morning,” Nash said, sounding to himself like an outraged maiden aunt.

“It’s five o’clock somewhere.”