Chapter Seventeen

Nash

T he right thing to do was contact Miles about the data from the external drive he had taken from Blevins’s office and get the bureau’s help in figuring out the coded invoice from the Jaripeo Ranch. He was pretty sure that had something to do with the subcontractors who were supplying the Mexican fighting bulls. And possibly the smuggling operation that Hector and Miles were working on. The FBI could also aid in tracking down that offshore account that Debbi had referred to in her phone call with Blevins. So why was he hesitating picking up the phone?

Because Miles was the reason he was no longer an agent and he wanted petty revenge or to feel superior. So he allowed himself a good fifteen minutes of self-righteousness before he got over himself and called the number on the business card Miles gave to Shelby.

“I hadn’t expected to hear from you so soon,” Miles said by way of greeting.

“I’m not backing down from my investigation of Jackson Blevins,” Nash said. “But I’ve got copies of his computer data that you might find interesting in your case. I also overheard a conversation between Miles and his secretary, Debbi Mitchell.” Nash checked the notes he had written up. “She said to him something along the lines of the money will be transferred to the offshore account as soon as it clears. No one will suspect a thing. She’ll delete everything as usual.”

“Interesting,” Garrett said. “Anything else?”

Snitch.

“Yeah, we found a coded bill to Blevins from the Jaripeo Ranch. I was informed by one of the bull riders that Jaripeo is subcontracting to other breeders to bring in Mexican fighting bulls for the Laredo rodeo.”

“And you are, of course, going to give that invoice to us.” It wasn’t a question.

“I would like the courtesy of seeing the security tapes from today.”

“How about I just give you the pictures of the two men who worked over Blevins?”

“And any information that you have on them.”

“I don’t have to share any of this with you. You’re not local law enforcement.”

“No, but I am a licensed private investigator who has been hired by the UPRC to find out if Blevins is involved in anything illegal. I have a duty to my client to protect her interests.”

“Your sister, you mean.”

“My client.”

“Like I was helping my family and friends,” he said.

Oh here we go.

“The key difference, Miles, is I’m on a case. You were just violating human rights and breaking the law.”

For a moment Nash thought he had gone too far, but then Garrett burst into a sharp laugh. “You haven’t changed. I’m not the bad guy here.”

“Prove it.”

“We can exchange the information tonight.”

“I have plans tonight.”

“Take it or leave it, Weaver.”

Shit. Dolly would understand why he had to delay their date until after his meeting with Miles. “When and where?” he asked resigned to the fact that he’d have to spend time with his old partner.

“I’ll be here at five p.m.” Miles rattled off an address in Austin, about three hours away.

“Really?” Best-case scenario he’d be back in Dallas by nine or ten. He hoped Dolly would still be up.

“We need to be on our way to Laredo. This is on the way.”

“Fine.”

“Look, I get why you did what you did. I was in the wrong, but it was for the right reason. Sometimes you need to bend the rules, especially when the bad guys don’t care about them at all.”

He sounded like Dolly when he talked like that.

“The rules exist for a reason.”

Yeah, that even sounded priggish to him. He must have changed a bit in the last year on the rodeo tour.

“I just want you to know that I don’t have any hard feelings. I had nothing to do with how the office treated you. I transferred out, remember.”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“You were a good agent and I’m sorry you didn’t feel that you could stay.”

“Thanks,” Nash said grudgingly.

“And who knows, maybe the bureau could use a freelancer with your skills. Where’s your brick-and-mortar office?”

Good question. “We can talk about that tonight.” Nash hung up on him. He wasn’t sure how he felt about all of that. He didn’t want to owe Garrett anything, and he certainly didn’t want to beg for scraps from him. Nope. He wasn’t going to get his hopes up. He wasn’t going to be indebted to Miles. And he wasn’t ready to forgive him either. But it raised a good question. Where was he going to end up when all this was over?

If Shelby still had a rodeo when it all shook down, Nash supposed he could settle down here in Dallas where she had her headquarters. It had always been her and him against the world anyways. He liked the idea of staying close to her and making sure she was safe from men like Blevins.

Bonus points that Dolly had an apartment in Dallas too, when she wasn’t on the road following the rodeos for her social media events. Even though they had been dancing around their attraction for the better part of a year, it was crazy to start thinking about the future after one passionate encounter. And yet, his thoughts kept drifting to her and the future they might share together, if she stopped lying to him.

Her phone went to voicemail, so Nash left her a message that he wouldn’t be available until after nine p.m. tonight for their date.

*

Nash gripped the steering wheel of his Ford pickup, the leather beneath his fingers growing slick with the sweat of frustration. The endless stretch of Texas highway rolled out before him as he drove back to Dallas. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d been given the short end of the stick. The FBI had confiscated all the evidence he’d painstakingly collected against Jackson Blevins. In return, he’d been handed a grainy security camera photo of two burly men. Nash didn’t recognize them, and Miles said that Blevins—conveniently enough—claimed not to know them either.

At least Miles agreed to deploy the FBI’s resources to track down the offshore account connected to Jackson Blevins and work on the encrypted code from the invoice from Jaripeo Ranch he and Dolly had fished out of Blevins’s trash can. They said they had installed tracking software on Blevins and his secretary Debbi’s computers.

Nash doubted they would share anything that they found out with him, though.

Blevins would remain in the hospital for a few more days, which would give the FBI more time to work on the case and set up a sting at the Laredo rodeo. Not that Nash would be a part of that. It pissed him off. If he had still been in the bureau…but he wasn’t. He was a private eye, and he should feel lucky Miles was even giving him the time of day. Yeah, that stung like a bitch.

Nash knew he had to get over himself. Still, he couldn’t shake the sour taste of regret on his tongue. Walking away from his credentials had cost him access to resources. If someone had told him a few years ago that he’d be playing cowboy and sneaking around behind the FBI’s back, he’d have laughed in their face. But here he was forging deals with his old partner to help Shelby untangle this mess with Blevins.

It was worth it. Shelby hadn’t deserved a partner like Blevins. With him out of the picture, Nash knew she would make the rodeo thrive.

But if Nash was being fair, the meeting with Miles hadn’t been so bad. He had built him up as an evil villain in his life’s story, but the reality was Miles was a good agent. He generally wanted to do good, but his methods were what got him into trouble. He was an “ends justifies the means” type of guy and Nash just wasn’t wired that way.

It had been uncomfortable sitting in the meeting room with him and Hector as they exchanged information and realizing that Miles and Dolly would probably get along. Dolly was an “ends justifies the means” type as well.

While Nash would never be that casual about breaking the rules, he could see how tempting it would be in a situation like they were in right now. Which was why he had to double down and make sure everyone did this by the book, so there wasn’t any way in hell that Jackson Blevins could weasel himself out of anything this time.

Just as he was about to call Dolly and tell him his ETA, Nash’s phone buzzed. He glanced at the caller ID on the truck’s display. Dr. Victor Lance. That was interesting.

“Dr. Lance,” he said, “what can I do for you?”

“Mr. Weaver,” Lance replied, his voice trembling slightly, “I heard about Jackson Blevins being put in the hospital, and I think it’s finally safe for me to talk.”

Nash felt a spark of excitement, realizing he didn’t need to build a criminal case against Blevins. All he had to do was provide proof to Shelby that Blevins had been involved with illegal activity, and Lance’s information just might be the break he was looking for. He could do this without Miles. And wouldn’t that be gratifying as all get-out?

“I’m listening,” he said, keeping his tone neutral despite the adrenaline surging through his veins.

“I want immunity.”

“I’m not a lawyer. I can’t guarantee any specific outcome.”

“Okay.”

“You should talk to your lawyer.”

“I have. She agrees that coming clean about my dealings with Blevins is the best course of action. I want to meet with you tonight, before I lose my nerve.”

Tonight?

Shit, he was almost halfway back to Dallas. And to Dolly. Figured. “I can be at your motel in a few hours.”

“I’ll be here.”

He had been looking forward to spending the night with Dolly, but as much as he hated to admit it, the meeting with Lance had to take precedence.

“Call Dolly,” he told the voice-activated feature on his phone.

As the phone rang, he rehearsed his words in his head, trying to find the right balance between conveying the urgency of the situation and expressing his regret for the last-minute change of plans.

“Hey there, cowboy.” Dolly’s voice sounded strained, lacking her usual playful lilt.

Nash frowned, his instincts immediately picking up on her distress. “Is everything okay? You sound a bit off.”

She sighed, the sound crackling through the phone’s speaker. “It’s just been a long day at the office. Nothing to worry about. I’m looking forward to seeing you.”

Nash’s stomach twisted with guilt. “About that…I have some news.”

He briefly explained the situation with Dr. Lance. As he spoke, he could almost feel Dolly’s disappointment radiating through the phone. “I know this isn’t ideal, but I wouldn’t be doing this if it wasn’t important. We’re so close to exposing Blevins, and I need to follow this lead.”

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line. Nash held his breath, waiting for Dolly’s response.

“No, you’re right. You’ve got to do this. I wish I could be there too.”

“I’ll make it up to you.”

“You better,” she teased, a hint of her usual spirit returning. “Just be careful, okay? I don’t want to lose you just when things are starting to get interesting between us.”

Nash smiled, warmth spreading through his chest at her words. “I’ll be careful. And when this is all over, we’ll have all the time in the world to explore just how interesting things can get.”

“Have a nice night.”

“You too, sweetheart.”

Nash stopped to gas up and pick up some coffee to keep himself going. After what seemed like an eternity driving down the highway, Lance’s motel loomed ahead, its flashing neon sign a beacon in the gathering darkness. Nash parked the truck and took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation to come.

He knocked on the door, three sharp raps that echoed in the stillness. It cracked open, revealing a haggard face etched with fear and exhaustion. Lance peered out, his bloodshot eyes widening as he recognized Nash. He stepped aside, allowing Nash to enter the dimly lit room.

The door clicked shut behind Nash. Lance glanced at the window one more time before turning his attention back to Nash. The room was tidy, but the signs of a prolonged stay were evident—clothes strewn about, empty takeout containers, and a laptop occupying the small desk in the corner.

“Can I get you something to drink?” Lance asked, gesturing to the mini fridge. “Got some beer in here.”

“Thanks, but no.”

“I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

“I’m here. Now, let’s talk about what you know.”

Lance took a long swig of his beer. “I’m sorry about Mick and Ronnie,” he said, his voice trembling. “I drugged their bulls. I did it for money and because Jackson said he would fire me if I didn’t.”

“How much did he give you?” Nash already knew there weren’t any large payments in Lance’s bank account.

“I got a thousand dollars cash for each one.” Lance’s gaze dropped to the floor. “You have to believe me. I didn’t think anything would happen to the bull riders. Mick was a professional and Ronnie was just the best. The steroids I injected into the bulls should have just made for a harder ride. They were supposed to get thrown, not maimed and killed.”

Nash fought to keep his revulsion from showing on his face. He needed Lance to keep talking. “Where’s the money?”

“Spent it,” Lance said with a bitter half-laugh. “On nothing, really. It’s all gone.”

Two thousand dollars. Two men’s lives upended—one gone forever—over a sum that couldn’t even buy you a decent used car. “Why didn’t you come clean and tell everyone what Blevins threatened you with?”

A shudder ran through Lance’s body. “He said he’d kill me if I did.”

Now they were getting somewhere. “And you believed him?”

Lance’s face paled. “I did. I’ve seen the guys who do his dirty work. Blevins has two thugs that he uses as enforcers.”

“Do you know their names?”

Lance shook his head. “Big guys. Nasty pieces of work.”

“Could you identify them if you saw them again?”

“Yeah.”

Playing a hunch, Nash pulled out the grainy security picture Miles had given him and held it up. “Are these the guys?”

Lance’s eyes widened as he stared at the image. “That’s them.”

Blevins must have tried a double cross or something, and that was why his own men went after him. But with Lance testifying that these guys were Blevins’s enforcers and he had used them to intimidate people and had threatened to kill him if he didn’t dope up the bulls, that was all Shelby needed to take to the board. He’d let Miles and the FBI sort through the rest.

It was over. Or else it soon would be.

“I need you to type out exactly what you just told me and email it to me. Every detail, no matter how small.”

Lance hesitated for a moment before nodding. He grabbed his laptop and began typing.

Nash watched him. This was it. The breakthrough they’d been waiting for. Blevins was going down. And Nash wouldn’t even need the FBI’s help to do it.

After Lance hit send, Nash confirmed the email’s arrival in his inbox. He handed Lance Garrett’s business card. “Contact him if you think of anything else.”

Lance took the card with a shaking hand.

Nash stood. “I’m not sure what will happen next, but your cooperation might work in your favor when this goes to court.”

With that, Nash left the motel room.

He got in the truck and reached for his phone, his fingers hovering over Dolly’s number. He wanted to hear her voice, to share the news of his breakthrough. But he hesitated, glancing at the clock on the dashboard. It was late, and she was probably already asleep. He didn’t want to wake her.

As he pulled onto the highway, he rubbed his eyes, willing away the fatigue that threatened to overtake him. It had been a long day, and an even longer investigation, but the end was finally in sight. It was close to one a.m. by the time he pulled back into Dallas. He’d call both Shelby and Dolly tomorrow and share the good news. Right now, he just wanted to grab a cheap motel room and sleep for hours.