Diamond in the Rough (Diamond J #2) (21 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Rondo

The grinding of gears and low growl of the cattle hauler’s engine told Rondo that Lana was rounding the corner of the building. He held his hand over his eyes to block the rain. She rolled across the lot and he waved a hand to flag her down. The semi jerked to a stop and she leaned her head out the window. “What’s going on?”

Rondo jerked his thumb to indicate the back seat. “We got a problem.”

Just then, the boy scrambled across the seat and dropped to the ground. Rondo hooked the kid’s arm with a beefy hand and held on tight. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Lana closed her eyes and cursed.

Rondo lifted the boy up and tossed him into the back seat, then threw the blanket over the kid. He looked over his shoulder at Lana. “We can’t leave him here. We can’t take him home.”

Steve leaned across Lana and asked, “Who is he?”

Rondo’s brow furrowed. “How the hell should I know?”

Lana said, “It must have been at the Diamond J. That’s the only place we’ve stopped since we left the compound.”

A blue pickup truck turned into the lot and pulled up to the front door. The driver stared at them when he got out, then spun and pushed through the side door. The kid started to yell, but Rondo smothered the sound with the blanket. He said, “We’re drawing attention out here. What do you want to do?”

“Shit,” Lana cursed again. “Let’s pull the trucks over to the edge of the lot and take him inside. It’s loud in there. I need time to think. To figure this out.”

Rondo shoved the boy back roughly then slammed the door and climbed into the driver’s seat. He threw the transmission in drive and followed Lana to the shadowy edge of the lot, where the big dusk to dawn lights didn’t reach.

After he stopped, he reached in the back, wrapped the blanket around the boy, then threw the bundle over his shoulder like a sack of feed. The kid kicked and struggled and tried to yell, but the blanket muffled the sound.

Steve and Lana fell in step beside him. Steve eyed the blanketed kid and whispered, “Dump him off in the office and leave.” He reached out to pull the edge of the blanket back.

Rondo spun away and snorted. “Not a chance. The kid saw my face.” Easy for that know-it-all prick to say. He didn’t have anything at risk.

Steve pulled his ball cap lower over his eyes and shrugged.

“Enough.” Lana made a cutting motion with her hand. Her gaze settled on a black extended cab Ford, a King Ranch edition. Her eyes narrowed. “We don’t know how much he’s seen and heard, and we aren’t taking no chances.”

They reached the side door and Steve tugged it open. Rondo followed Lana inside, and Steve took up the rear. The three of them shook off the rain. The bright glare of the interior lights made Rondo blink. His eyes were already tired and gritty. The kid struggled in the blanket, his feet kicking frantically. Smart kid. He knew he was in trouble.

They stood in a staging area, with a row of lockers against one wall. Keys hung from carefully labeled hooks just inside the door, and a scarred desk squatted in the center of the room, covered with an array of papers and forms, broken pens and stubby pencils.

A faded green door led to the deeper reaches of the processing plant. It pushed open and a tall skinny kid, maybe twenty tops, strode through.

He froze and his close-set eyes narrowed. “Who are you?”

The boy chose that moment to wiggle and kick, then a muffled cry sounded. Rondo shifted the boy and squeezed him tighter. He stopped fighting, but continued to sob.

The tall skinny kid focused on the blanket. “What’s going on here?” he demanded. His hand shifted to the bulge on his hip.

Lana stepped forward, between Rondo and the nervous kid. “You know who I am, right.” She reached out and tapped his chest where the name Matt was embroidered on a patch.

Matt’s eyes slid to her, then back to the quivering blanket. He nodded once, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard.

“We need a quiet place to . . .” Her voice trailed off and she hooked a thumb over her shoulder at Rondo. “Him and me need to talk to Brennan.”

The kid’s chest rose and fell as he sucked in a breath. "Don't think he's here."

"Oh, he's here. I saw his truck outside." Lana jerked her chin to the side.

Finally, the kid shrugged and turned, disappearing through the green door.

Rondo shifted the bundle on his shoulder. The boy didn’t weigh much, but he wouldn’t stop wiggling. What were they going to do with a rug rat? He knew what Lana likely wanted to do, but he needed to lay down the law. Lana was cold as ice when it came to protecting their little band of thieves, but they’d never crossed into cold blooded murder and he wasn't about to start now.

A short, stubby man with a balding head pushed through the green door. He was only slightly taller than Lana, but twice as wide. He wore a button up shirt, with the top button undone to expose a triangle of tangled gray chest hair. A thick gold chain sparkled at his throat. The broken capillaries covering his bulbous nose hinted at a life of heavy drinking. Right now, though, he was stone cold sober and the flush of his cheeks indicated anger, not drink.

He glared at Steve, then Lana, and finally, his gaze settled on Rondo. His beady eyes narrowed. “What — or who? — is in that blanket?”

Lana stepped forward and put a hand flat on the stubby man’s chest. “Brennan, we've known each other a long time. The less you know, the better. But we need someplace quiet and safe until we can figure out our next move.”

Brennan’s eyes flicked to the woman in front of him. “There’s a storage room in the basement. You can use it.”

He spun away, opened the green door and shouted, “Matt!”

The tall skinny kid appeared almost immediately. “Yeah, boss?” His eyes darted around the room, then lit on Brennan.

The stubby man waved a hand at Rondo and the other two. “Take them to the back corner storage room and make sure everybody knows that room is off limits to everyone until further notice.” He crossed his arms over his barrel chest and watched as the three marched out of the room. Rondo glanced back at the man.

He’d never liked Brennan. The man had a cruel streak in him a mile wide, and Rondo didn’t trust him as far as he could throw ‘im. He swung the kid to his other shoulder. They walked through a maze of hallways. Fluorescent lights hummed overhead. The cinder block walls were plain, utilitarian, punctuated by cheap core doors. Cattle mooed and bellowed from other parts of the building.

Matt opened a door and motioned for them to follow him. Lana went first, followed by Steve. Rondo went last and walked carefully down the steps behind Lana and Steve, gripping the cold metal handrail and placing his feet carefully on each tread.

They went down two flights of narrow stairs. At the bottom, the stairwell opened into a wide hallway with a low ceiling, punctuated with dangling bare bulbs every twenty feet or so. The only sound was the echo of their boots on the worn linoleum tile. Rondo followed the others and occasionally glanced over his shoulder. This place gave him the creeps.

The skinny kid stopped in front of a heavy metal door with a small window inset in it. He tugged a ring of keys from his pocket and tried several before the door swung open with a low creak. He swept his hand to indicate they should go on in. Rondo followed Lana and Steve, squeezing to get past the skinny kid.

The room was low and dark, lined with cartons and crates. Rondo had to duck to keep from hitting his head on the dangling industrial light. He lowered the kid to a pallet, and the brat immediately began kicking and screaming.

“Shut that kid up!” Lana ordered.

Rondo tightened the blanket around the kid, then sat on the edge. The muffled cries finally stopped, and the rug rat quit struggling. Try as he might, Rondo couldn’t think of a good ending to this situation. Once they got back to the compound, he was going to set Lana straight. But first, they had to deal with the situation.

Lana crossed her arms and tapped her chin with her index finger. Her lips pursed and the muscles under her eyes tightened. “First thing we gotta do is get the vehicles out of here, back to the compound. They’re like a flashing neon sign out there in the parking lot. Somebody’s gonna spot ‘em and wonder.”

Rondo nodded. She was right. This place was full of crooks and thieves who wouldn’t hesitate to make a call if they thought there was a reward. Or they might try to get a piece of the action. He glanced down at the slight form in the blanket. Could they hold the kid for ransom? The Diamond J was money. Maybe they’d be willing to pay to get him back.

He shifted on the pallet, gathering his feet under him. “You drive the semi and I’ll drive the truck. I’ll send one of the boys back here—”

Lana held up her hand, palm out. “No. Me and Steve’ll go back to the compound. Then we’ll decide what to do with him.” She reached out a toe and poked at the blanket. The kid mewled pitifully.

Steve grinned and held out his hand. Rondo couldn’t stand the little prick. Steve was too slick. Too sneaky. He was always going off on his own, his phone tucked tightly against his ear. And the way he wore his ball cap pulled low over his eyes. Steve wiggled his fingers, palm up.

Lana warned, “Rondo. Now. We ain’t got time for attitude.”

Rondo clenched his fists. He wanted nothing more than to wrap his hands around her neck and squeeze. He sucked in a deep breath and fought to control his temper. What mattered now was the family, and the first thing he needed to do was keep the kid safe, because if they crossed the line and ended up wanted for murder, the whole family would suffer.

He straightened out his right leg, then pulled the keys from his front jeans pocket. He tossed them to Steve, who snatched them out of the air with a flourish and grin.

Rondo ignored him and turned to Lana. “Want me to do some checking? Find out who he is?”

She looked at him and arched her thinly penciled eyebrows. “Why?”

Rondo gave a short laugh. “We could ransom him. Make some money off this clusterfuck.”

Lana answered with a wry laugh of her own. “Sounds like a lot of trouble to me. Probably better if you dispose of it.”

Rondo shook his head slowly. “Not a good idea.” Murder wasn’t their way. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to be the one to do it.

She waved her hand to indicate the storage room. “Concrete walls. Basement. Wait until tomorrow when the business upstairs is in full gear and no one’ll hear a thing.”

He pressed his lips together and sighed. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, Lana scared him. She was crazy. He’d seen her slit a man’s throat and leave him to bleed out in the dirt one night around the bonfire back at the compound. He wasn’t even sure what Deke had said to her, but because Lana was Rondo’s woman, he’d let her get by with it.

Lana opened the heavy door with a grunt, then followed Steve out. After the door slammed shut with a thud, her curly red halo of hair appeared in the small window. The diamond shaped mesh embedded in the glass looked like slashes across her pale face. She grinned, then disappeared.

The sudden silence was jarring. Rondo pushed to his feet and hurried across the cracked linoleum floor to lock the door. After he twisted the knob to make sure it was locked, he reached up and flipped the deadbolt closed too. He turned and stared at the lump on the pallet, then turned back to look at the door.

A deadbolt inside a storage room? That was odd.

He turned back to see the kid wiggling free of the blanket.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

He's Missing!

Aidan paced the width of the front porch, still clutching his cell phone. He rubbed at the furrows between his eyebrows. What had happened? How had the night gone so wrong? Gina had insisted on walking the backyard again, crisscrossing the field between the house and the pond with Charlotte. Aidan looked up the driveway again, searching for headlights. He glanced at his watch. It had only been fifteen minutes since he’d called the Sheriff, but he hoped one of the deputies was nearby.

Movement along the fence row caught his eye. Joe jogged across the yard and waved something in the air. Aidan peered at him, then hurried down the steps to meet the other ranch hand.

Joe held up a little toy horse. He breathed heavily with exertion, but said, “Found this by the gate.”

Aidan took the plastic toy and held it up to the light. His shoulders drooped when he recognized it. It felt like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. “Damn.” He turned on his heel and tossed over his shoulder, “You wait here for the Sheriff. I’m going to go get Gina.”

He strode around the side of the house, his long legs eating up ground. He spotted the two flashlight beams sweeping the edge of the field, and hurried toward the closest one. He waved his hands over his head and shouted to get their attention. The two shadows moved toward him, the slimmer one moving faster. He met Gina at the edge of the patio and grabbed her arm. “Joe found this out by the gate.”

She blinked at the toy. “The gate?” She looked up at him, her eyes wide.

He nodded, but she didn’t respond. It hadn’t sunk in yet. “Where the cattle were taken.”

Her jaw dropped and her whole body drooped. He caught her as she began to shake her head. “No. No, that’s not — how did he get out there? Why would he have been out there?” She choked back a sob and wrapped her arms around herself, then began to rock back and forth.

He steered her toward the house. “I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. What matters is—”

“Finding my son.” She pushed away from him and stomped across the patio.

He followed close on her heels. He could only imagine the pain she was feeling. Guilt nagged at him. “The Sheriff should be here any—”

“No time to wait.” She jerked the kitchen door open and snagged her purse. She tugged her keys out of it and hurried across the living room and out the back door.

He trailed behind her as she yanked her car door open. She slid in and slammed the door. He leaned in and watched helplessly as she rammed the key into the ignition, missing her mark twice, but hitting it on the third. “Please,” he pleaded as he ran to the passenger side and slid in. “The Sheriff—”

She twisted the key and the car sputtered and died. She slammed her fist into the steering wheel. “Start, you son of a bitch! Start!” She twisted the key again and pumped the gas. This time the engine caught and roared to life. She threw the transmission in reverse, hit the gas and spun the wheel.

Joe jumped out of the way as she shifted into drive and threw gravel. The little car fishtailed, then straightened out as she pointed it at the driveway. Headlights turned into the driveway and headed straight for them. For a moment, Aidan thought she wasn’t going to give, wasn’t going to slow.

“The Sheriff!” he shouted and pointed at the oncoming headlights. He grabbed the dash as she jerked the wheel to the side and roared past the cruiser, missing it by mere inches. He glanced back and saw brake lights. Lord help ‘em if the deputy came after them, because he knew Gina wouldn’t stop for anything. He turned back around as Gina jerked the wheel to the right and the tires squealed onto the blacktop. The little car raced forward, engine whining, and she didn’t let up. Telephone poles flashed past, trees were a blur. He hoped like hell that no deer tried to cross the road.

When they reached the state highway, she screeched to a stop and her head swiveled right then left, then back again. She turned to look at Aidan, her eyes wide and wild with fear. “Which way?” she demanded.

He shrugged and said helplessly, “I don’t know.” He took a deep breath and tried to guess where the rustlers might be headed.

“Think,” she hissed. "Which way would they go? Where would they take a load of cattle?”

He chewed his bottom lip. He thought out loud. “The sale barn wouldn’t be safe. Everyone there knows our brand.”

She made a rolling motion with her hand. “Okay, so not the sale barn here. Are there any others nearby?”

He shook his head. They always used Angell’s place. He didn’t know the others in the area. Sirens sounded behind them and Gina looked up into the rearview mirror as Aidan glanced over his shoulder. Flashing lights strobed across them. Gina clutched the wheel tightly and pressed her lips together.

“Don’t do it,” Aidan warned.

But she did.

Aidan braced his hands against the dash as she stomped on the gas and spun the wheel. The car leapt forward and the engine roared, then coughed and sputtered and they rolled to a stop.

Gina slumped forward and banged her head against the steering wheel. “No, no, no,” she repeated softly.

Aidan reached over to touch her shoulders, and felt them convulse with her sobs. “We’re going to find him,” he promised. A cold chill passed through him. He’d find Toby, and he’d find the cattle. Whoever did this would pay.

Gina shook Aidan’s hand off her shoulder. This was all his fault. If they hadn’t been out at the Diamond J, Toby wouldn’t have been caught up in this. It didn’t make sense. Why was he outside? She had left him inside the house by himself watching television. The way the front door was standing open, he’d obviously gone looking for her. How long had she been outside with Aidan?

She'd been so excited, so relieved, by the offer from Signet. Then the night with Aidan had been perfect. They had strolled along, holding hands like they were in high school. Then they made out by the pond, under the moon as stars, like some fantasy.

Well, damn it, she didn’t deserve a fantasy. She was a single mother, and her first priority was her son. Had to be her son. She never should have left him alone in a strange house like that. What had she been thinking?

She huffed and sat up straight. She hadn’t been thinking. That was the problem. She glanced in the rear view mirror and watched as the deputy got out of his car. The strobing lights made her head throb, so she looked away, out into the darkness. The deputy walked up and tapped on her window.

“Roll the window down,” prompted Aidan softly.

Gina shook her head. “Right.” She cranked the window handle and took a deep breath. She had to get her emotions under control. Her son was depending on her.

The officer leaned down and gripped the door. “Gina Montgomery?”

“Yes, sir.” She looked up, expecting to see a deputy. Instead, the Sheriff himself glared down at her. She gripped the wheel tightly, her knuckles white. “I’m sorry—”

“That’s enough.” He slapped his hand on the door frame as he leaned down. He looked past her. “Aidan.”

Aidan nodded in response. “Sheriff.”

The Sheriff’s voice softened. “Ma’am, this isn’t helping your boy. Why don’t you let Aidan drive.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. An order. “You two can follow me back to the Diamond J and we’ll work out how we’re going to get your son home.”

Gina swallowed past the lump in her throat that threatened to strangle her. Every fiber of her being was taut with the need to do something, to take action, to go out there and run as far and fast as she could until she found Toby. She pressed her lips together and nodded brusquely. Aidan reached over and wrapped his hand over hers and gently pulled it off the steering wheel. He squeezed her fingers in his and nodded to her. The depth of concern in his eyes was touching.

He probably thought she was out of her mind.

And he wouldn’t be wrong.

Half an hour later, she sat across the plank table from the Sheriff, with Aidan close beside her. Charlotte filled their coffee cups, then hovered behind the Sheriff, wringing a tea towel in her hands.

The Sheriff said, “We don’t know for sure the cattle rustlers have Toby. Is his father in the picture?”

Gina felt her hackles raise. Of course the rustlers had Toby, otherwise why would his toy horse have been out there? “I don’t know where his dad is. He lives in town, but he didn’t answer his phone when I tried to call him a few minutes ago.” This was a waste of time.

The Sheriff flipped his notebook open. “His name?”

“Steve Potts.”

The Sheriff’s head snapped up. “Steve Potts? Local guy? On the thin side?”

Gina cocked her head and frowned. “Yes.” Of course the Sheriff knew him. Law enforcement all throughout Cardwell County knew Steve. “But he wouldn’t do anything to hurt our son. He may be a lousy criminal, but he wouldn’t do anything to put Toby in danger.”

“You said you don’t know where he is.” The Sheriff leaned forward. “When did you see him last?”

Gina shrugged. “I don’t know. Last weekend, Toby’s birthday, I guess.”

“Have you talked to him on the phone?”

This was absurd. A waste of time. “No. He hasn’t been answering.” Hadn’t she just said that?

The Sheriff sat back in his chair. “Try to call him now.”

“I tried already. I’ve left a dozen messages for him since Toby disappeared.” She squirmed in her seat. It didn’t matter where Steve was. What mattered was her son.

Aidan leaned forward on his elbows. “What are you getting at, Sheriff?” His eyebrows pushed together as he stared at the officer.

The Sheriff shifted in his seat. “I may know how to get a hold of him, and he might be able to help.”

Gina sat back. “What?” Her eyes narrowed.

“What I’m going to say here can’t be repeated.” The Sheriff looked around, making eye contact with everyone in the room. His gaze settled on Gina. He punctuated his words by tapping his index finger on the table. “I mean it. It can go no further.”

“Sheriff?” Aidan asked.

“Aidan, please.” The Sheriff held up his hand, palm out, then turned to face Gina. “Ma’am, I need your word.”

Gina nodded and blinked. A tear slid down her cheek. She had no idea what was going on, or what this had to do with her son.

“Your husband is an undercover agent with the Rural Crimes Task Force.”

Gina straightened in the wooden chair and shook her head. Had she heard him right? “Undercover?”

“Yes. He’s been working undercover gathering information and evidence on a cattle rustling ring.”

Aidan slapped the table. “Then that’s it! Toby is safe!”

Charlotte murmured, “Praise the saints.”

The Sheriff pulled his cell phone from his pocket. “I’ll send a message to Steve.”

“Be careful,” Aidan warned.

Gina echoed his concerns. How could they alert Steve without giving him away, without putting Toby at risk? The Sheriff tapped a message out, clicked send and sat the phone in front of him. The Sheriff tapped his pen on the table while they all stared at his cell phone.

The grandfather clock in the hallway ticked out the seconds. The silence in the room was deafening. They all stared at the cell phone lying on the table.

Aidan asked, “So, you’ve been going after these rustlers for a while?”

The Sheriff nodded.

“Where do they take the cattle?”

The Sheriff took a sip of coffee and grimaced. “That’s the problem. They’ve never taken Steve with them when they deliver the cattle. He’s just been there for the theft itself, but tonight he was going in the cattle hauler with the leader of the gang.”

“Let’s think about this.” Charlotte said. “They steal a herd of cattle, they aren’t going to want to keep them around for long, so they’d take them to a sale barn, right?”

“First thing they do is strip them of identification. Cut off their ear tags, rebrand ‘em, that sort of thing. Probably mix ‘em in with legit stock blend ‘em in.” The Sheriff continued, “We think they were taking them out of state, based on how long the cattle hauler was away from the compound, but the last couple of herds have only been short runs.”

Charlotte frowned. “Have you checked out the sale barns around here?” She shook her head and clucked. “I can’t imagine Angell’s doing anything untoward.”

The Sheriff scoffed at the suggestion. “No. We’re confident none of the sale barns in the tri-state area would take stolen cattle.”

Gina asked, “So, if they don’t take them to a sale barn, where would they take them? Are they hiding them at another ranch or something?”

The Sheriff clicked his pen several times as his brow furrowed. "The problem is, tonight they almost got caught. They'll need to unload those animals quick. No time to go through the usual routine."

Aidan snapped his fingers. “I think I know.” His voice was cold and hard.

Gina swiveled to look at him. His face was ashen. “What?” She grabbed his hand and squeezed. If he knew . . .