Диана Палмер – Bound by Honor: Mercenary's Woman (страница 14)

“Lisa Monroe,” Cy said, and averted his eyes. “Yes, I’ve seen her around. Yesterday she was heaving bales of hay over the fence to her horse,” he added in the coldest tones Eb had ever heard him use. “She’s thinner than she should be, and she has no business trying to heft bales of hay!”

“When her husband’s not home to do it for her…”

“Not home?” Cy’s eyes widened. “Good God, man, he was standing ten feet away talking to a leggy blond girl in an express delivery uniform! He didn’t even seem to notice Lisa!”

“It’s not our business.”

Cy moved abruptly, standing up. “Okay. Point taken. Suppose we ride up to the boundary and take a look at the progress on that warehouse,” he said. “We can take horses and pretend we’re riding the fence line.”

Eb retrieved high-powered binoculars from the truck and by the time he got to the stable, Cy’s young foreman had two horses saddled and waiting.

“Mr. Scott!” Harley said with a starstruck grin, running a hand absently through his crew-cut light brown hair. “Nice to see you, sir!” He almost saluted. He knew about Mr. Scott’s operation; he’d read all about it in his armchair covert operations magazine, to say nothing of the top secret newsletter to which he subscribed.

Eb gave him a measuring glance and he didn’t smile. “Do I know you, son?”

“Oh, no, sir,” Harley said quickly. “But I’ve read about your operation!”

“I can imagine what,” Eb chuckled. He stuck a cigar into his mouth and lit it.

Cy mounted offside, from the right, because there wasn’t enough strength in his left arm to permit him to grip the saddle horn and help pull himself up. He hated the show of weakness, which was all too visible. Up until the fire, he’d been in superb physical condition.

“We’re going to ride up to the northern boundary and check the fence line for breaks,” Cy said imperturbably. “Get Jenkins started on the new gate as soon as he’s through with breakfast.”

“He’ll have to go pick it up at the hardware store first,” Harley reminded him. “Just came in late yesterday.”

Cy gave him a look that would have frozen running water. He didn’t say anything. But, then, he didn’t have to.

“I’ll just go remind him,” Harley said at once, and took off toward the bunkhouse.

“Who is he?” Eb asked as they rode out of the yard.

“My new foreman.” Cy leaned toward him with mock awe. “He’s a real mercenary, you know! Actually went on a mission early this summer!”

“My God,” Eb drawled. “Fancy that. A real live hero right here in the boonies.”

“Some hero,” Cy muttered. “Chances are what he really did was to camp out in the woods for two weeks and help protect city campers from bears.”

Eb chuckled. “Remember how we were at his age?” he asked reminiscently. “We couldn’t wait for people to see us in our gear. And then we found out that the real mercs don’t advertise.”

“We were like Harley,” Cy mused. “All talk and hot air.”

“And all smiles.” Eb’s eyes narrowed with memory. “I hadn’t smiled for years by the time I got out. It isn’t romantic and no matter how good the pay is, it’s never enough for what you have to do for it.”

“We did do a little good in the world,” came the rejoinder.

“Yes, I guess we did,” Eb had to admit. “But our best job was breaking up one of Lopez’s cocaine processing plants in Central America and helping put Lopez away. And here he is back, like a bad bouncing ball.”

“I knew his father,” Cy said unexpectedly. “A good, honest, bighearted man who worked as a janitor just up the road in Victoria and studied English at home every night trying to better himself. He died just after he found out what his only child was doing for a living.”

Eb stared off into space. “You never know how kids will turn out.”

“I know how mine would have turned out,” Cy said heavily. “One of his teachers was in an accident. Not a well-liked teacher, but Alex started a fund for him and gave up a whole month’s allowance to start it with.” His face corded like wire. He had to swallow, hard, to keep his voice from breaking. The years hadn’t made his memories any easier. Perhaps if he could help get Lopez back in prison, it might help.

“We’ll get Lopez,” the other man said abruptly. “Whatever it takes, if I have to call in markers from all over the world. We’ll get him.”

Cy came out of his brief torment and glanced at his comrade. “If we do, I get five minutes alone with him.”

“Not a chance,” Eb said with a grin. “I remember what you can do in five minutes, and I want him tried properly.”

“He already was.”

“Yes, but he was caught and tried back east. This time we’ll manage to apprehend him right here in Texas and we’ll stack the legal deck by having the best prosecuting attorney in the state brought in to do the job. The Hart boys are related to the state attorney general—he’s their big brother.”

“I’d forgotten.” He glanced at Eb. His eyes were briefly less tormented. “Okay. I guess I can give the court a second chance. Not their fault that Lopez can afford defense attorneys in Armani suits, I guess.”

“Absolutely. And if we can catch him with enough laundered money in his pockets and invoke the RICO statutes, we can fund some nice improvements for our drug enforcement people.”

They’d arrived at the northernmost boundary of Cy’s property, and barely in sight across the high-wire fence was a huge construction site. From their concealed position in a small stand of trees near a stream, Eb took his binoculars and gave the area a thorough scrutiny. He handed them to Cy, who looked as well and then handed them back.

“Recognize anybody?” Cy asked.

Eb shook his head. “None of them are familiar. But I’ll bet if you looked in the right places, you could find a rap sheet or two. Lopez isn’t too picky about pedigrees. He just likes men who don’t mind doing whatever the job takes. Last I heard, he had several foreign nationals in his employ.” He sighed. “I sure as hell don’t want a drug distribution network out here.”

“Neither do I. We’d better go have a word with Bill Elliott at the sheriff’s office.”

Cy shrugged. “You’d better have a word with him by yourself, if you want to get anywhere. I’d jinx you.”

“I remember now. You had words with him over Belinda Jessup’s summer camp.”

“Hard words,” Cy agreed uncomfortably. “I’ve mellowed since, though.”

“You and the KGB.” He pulled his hat further over his eyes. “We’d better get out of here before they spot us.”

“I can see people coming.”

“They can see you coming, too.”

“That should worry them,” Cy agreed, grinning.

Eb chuckled. It was rare these days to see a smile on that hard face. He wheeled his horse, leaving Cy to follow.

THAT AFTERNOON, EB DROVE over to the Johnson place to pick up Sally and Stevie for their self-defense practice.

Sally’s eyes lit up when she saw him and he felt his heart jump. She made him feel warm inside, as if he finally belonged somewhere. Stevie ran past his aunt to be caught up and swung around in Eb’s muscular arms.

“How’s Jess?” Eb asked.

Sally made a face and glanced back toward the house. “Dallas got here just before you did. It’s sort of unarmed combat in there. They aren’t even speaking to each other.”

“Ah, well,” he mused. “Things will improve eventually.”

“Do you gamble?” she teased. “I feel a lucky streak coming on.”

He chuckled as he loaded them into the pickup. No, he wasn’t willing to bet on friendlier relations on that front. Not yet, anyway.

“How much do you know about surveillance equipment?” Sally asked unexpectedly.

He gave her a look of exaggerated patience. “With my background, how much do you think I know?”

She laughed. “Sorry. I wasn’t thinking. Can a microphone really pick up voices inside the house? Jess tried to convince me that they could hear us through the walls and we had to be very careful what we discussed. I mentioned that Lopez man and she shushed me immediately.”

He glanced at her as he drove. “You’ve got a lot to learn. I suppose now is as good a time as any to teach you.”

When he parked the truck at the front door, he led her inside, parking Stevie at the kitchen table with Carl, his cook, who dished up some ice cream for the child while Eb led Sally down the long hall and into a huge room literally crammed with electronic equipment.

He motioned her into a chair and keyed his security camera to a distant view of two cowboys working on a piece of machinery halfway down a rutted path in the meadow.

He flipped a switch and she heard one cowboy muttering to the other about the sorry state of modern tools and how even rusted files were better than what passed for a file today.

They weren’t even talking loud, and if there was a microphone, it must be mounted on the barn wall outside. She looked at Eb with wide, frankly disbelieving eyes.

He flipped the switch and the screen was silent again. “Most modern sound equipment can pick up a whisper several hundred yards away.” He indicated a shelf upon which sat several pairs of odd-looking binoculars. “Night vision. I can see anything on a moonless night with those, and I’ve got others that detect heat patterns in the dark.”

“You have got to be kidding!”

“We have cameras hidden in books and cigarette packs, we have weapons that can be broken down and hidden in boots,” he continued. “Not to mention this.”