Trouble With the Law (34 page)

“
Call Susan Whitmore.  Give her the information you gathered, and tell her what you suspect first thing tomorrow,” he said looking into her eyes.  “Just don’t tell her you’ve seen me since the ranch.”

Ronnie tried to control the wobble in her lips
.  It was tough with the emotions swirling inside of her.  “I won’t.  You just run and keep running and stay safe.  I don’t want to have to come for conjugal visits for the next twenty years,” she said with a watery laugh.

“I’d go to federal prison just to have those visits, Red.”

“I hear it’s like Club Med,” she teased.  “A helluva lot better than where you were.”

“Anyplace would be better than there.  But bars are bars, no matter if they’re real or imaginary.  I need to be free.”

Ronnie nodded and sucked in a deep breath.  Ronnie knew about those imaginary bars.  She had lived behind them all her life.  Done exactly what her daddy expected her to do, lived in a way she thought would make him proud.  It was time for her to break free of those bars too.  As soon as this mess was over, that is exactly what she was going to do.  Ronnie would be free too.  Free to do whatever she pleased.  Whether her father liked it or not.  She wasn’t living for him anymore.  Or worrying about what he thought.

Too bad she would never be free from
Trace Rooks.  He was a master thief.  Without her permission, or even knowledge, he had stolen her heart and there would be no recovering it.  He was taking it with him wherever the wind blew him now.  Ronnie sucked in a breath, and tried a smile.  “I guess this is g-goodbye then.”

“Maybe
.  Maybe not.  You never know what tomorrow holds.”

He might not know what tomorrow held, but Ronnie did.  Loneliness and more of what she’d had for thirty-one years now.  Not a single person in the world who gave a shit about her.  She’d deal with it like she always had.  She would crawl back behind the shield she built to combat the meanness in the world, put on her big girl panties and deal with it.

“Call Susan in the morning, Red.  Promise me,” he said again.

“I’ll call her.
  But I am going to try and get her to drop the charges against you.  I didn’t go through all of this for nothing.”

“You can tell her what you want.  Just don’t tell her I’m still alive.  I dropped you off somewhere and Conner picked you up.  You took a leave from work to deal with the emotional trauma.”
  He hugged her again, then kissed her forehead.  “Think you can call Dave and get him to loan me a van, while I finish getting my stuff together?” Trace asked.

“Yeah,” Ronnie said and picked up his phone off of the dresser to call.

She glanced at the screen and her eyebrows slammed together.  Trace grabbed his shirt off of the dresser and shrugged into it, and began buttoning it from the bottom. 

“Um, Trace?” she asked.

His fingers stopped buttoning and he looked at her.  “Yeah?”

“How long has your phone been dead?”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Trace walked over to Ronnie and grabbed his phone out of her hand.  It was dead, he thought with a sinking feeling in his stomach.  Other than calling the hotel, that was the only way Dave had of communicating with them.  He had helped Trace bring the files they’d stolen from Leland’s mansion up to the room last night, and that was the last time he’d talked to Dave.

“Fuck!” he shouted just as there was loud pounding on the main door of the hotel of the hotel suite.  Trace grabbed his boots and shoved his feet down in the
m. “Get dressed, Red, hurry!” he said.

“All I have is the black dress in here.”

“Put it on!” he said, and she scrambled to pick it up from the corner where she’d dropped it last night.

The pounding got louder, then he heard Lou Ellen holler, “Freeze, Asshat!” in her best Dirty Mary voice.  “Make a move and I’ll make
Swiss cheese out of your ass,” she growled. 

Trace groaned and
picked up the only pistol he had from the dresser.  He left the rest of the weapons in Dave’s van last night so they didn’t attract attention when they walked through the halls of the hotel. 

“Keep your head down, Red,” he ordered
as he racked the weapon and palmed it.  “Open the door, then shut it behind me.”

“I’m not sitting in here to be trapped like a rat if that guy takes you out,” she said.

“Don’t argue!” he hissed.

Ronnie grabbed the knob and twisted it
then stepped back, Trace braced then swung around the door frame aiming at the front door.  It was open, but nobody was standing there.  He scanned the room and saw his mother huddled with her hands over her head under the table, but he didn’t see Lou Ellen.  His body tense, Trace walked toward the table, his glance alternating between the doorway and his mother.  When he got closer to the table, he looked over it and saw Lou Ellen.  On the floor, sitting on Talmedge Bartlett’s back with her gun pointed at the base of his skull.

Trace heard footsteps in the hall and swung his aim back to the doorway, just as Dave walked inside.  “
Sorry, I was downstairs talking to my men.  We need to get out of here quick,” Dave said shortly, stepping inside to close the door behind him.

Trace flipped the safety back on his weapon and dropped his arm to his side.  “What’s going on?”

“I’ve been trying to call you since early this morning.  Where’s Ronnie?” he asked.

“In the bedroom.”

“Let’s get all this together.  We’re going to my office to figure this out,” he said as his eyes swept the books spread on the conference table.  “Talmedge had a change of heart when Leland tried to have his goons take him out to the woodshed and kill him this morning.  He figured out playing both ends against the middle wasn’t going to win him friends.”

“What happened?”

“Get off of me, you old bitch,” Talmedge growled and Trace heard Lou Ellen pull the hammer back on her revolver.

“Aunt Lou, stand down.  Get off of him,” Trace said walking around the table.  “I’ve got him.”

Lou Ellen huffed out a breath, then pushed down on the center of his back to stand.  “Give me a reason,” she said gruffly and uncocked the gun.  Her face was flushed, and her eyes glittered with intent.  If Lou Ellen wasn’t a financial genius, she had definitely missed her calling as a cop.  The Amarillo police could use her on the force.  She would have criminals quaking in their boots.  He could tell that Talmedge Bartlett sure was.

“Did he tell Leland about his conversation with Ronnie last night?” Trace asked Dave, but kept his eyes on Talmedge.

“He did that and more.  He told him that Allison stole the files.  Leland decided his good friend had become a liability because he waited until this morning to tell him that, and decided to get rid of him.”

“How did he get away?” Trace asked.

“I rescued his dumb ass from the two goons.  He called my phone from the trunk of the car they had him stuffed in.  I had my assistant track the pings, and kept him on the line until I found them on the interstate.  He’s damned lucky Delia is a whiz kid and
his
phone didn’t die or he would have too.”

“Sounds like you’ve been busy this morning.”

“Come on ya’ll get dressed.  My guys are waiting in the parking lot.  I had them meet me here.”

“That black satchel on the table has a GPS tracker in it,” Talmedge said
suddenly.

“Holy shit!” Dave and Trace said at once.

“That’s why I had to tell Leland about the files.  He knew.  He suspects you’re still alive too,” he said looking at Trace.  “Ronnie Winters wouldn’t be going to all the trouble she has gone to if you were dead.  And he knows that she was out at that ranch.  He put two and two together when Conner Lucas started pulling those files, and she took a sudden vacation from the firm.”

Trace shivered
, as a cold chill zipped down his spine.  They were damned lucky.  Ronnie had walked into that party last night, and she could have died.  If there hadn’t been so many people there, witnesses, Trace felt sure she would have.  And his mother could have too.  Leland knew everything and she had waltzed right in the middle of his lair.  Handed herself over to him.  “Why that satchel?” Trace asked gruffly.

“It has all the records from the transactions at the ranch.  The horse sales, the drug shipments, the women
…his contacts.”

The key to the whole operation, Trace thought
, as he laid his gun on the table, and grabbed the handle of the satchel.

“Wait!” Talmedge yelled.

Trace dropped the handle.  “What?”

“There’s an acid pack inside.  It will explode if you don’t have the
right combination.  The files will disintegrate and so will your skin.”  Talmedge sat up and a smug smile eased up the corners of his mouth.  “I won’t give that combination to anyone unless I’m guaranteed immunity.”

The bedroom door swung open and Ronnie walked into the room.  She folded her arms over her chest
, and Trace had never seen her look more fierce.  “You’ll give it to us now, unless you want us to tie you up and leave you in this room with it for Leland’s goons to find you.”

Dave’s cell phone rang.  He stepped out into the hallway, and Trace looked back at Talmedge.  “What’s it going to be?”

The not-so-slick-looking campaign manager in the rumpled tuxedo swallowed hard.  His eyes tracked from Trace to Ronnie and back then he said, “I’ll give you the combination, but they’ll be here any minute most likely.  We should leave.”

Ronnie snorted.  “You think I’m stupid?  We’re not leaving this room without that combination.  You better hurry up and remember it, or we’ll be leaving without you.”

Talmedge hesitated only a moment, before he gave Trace instructions to disable the booby-trapped satchel.  Trace opened the satchel and removed the gel-filled pack.  He left it and the GPS tracker Talmedge told him was sewn inside the lining on the table.

Dave walked back into the room, and his face looked a little pale.  “Jamie says two black vans just pulled up outside.  We need to go now.”

“I need to put some clothes on,” Lou Ellen said in a huff.

“No time, ma’am. 
A war is about to break out downstairs, and unless we want to be caught in it, we need to leave.”

Trace jerked Talmedge to his feet, and Ronnie and Allison gathered up the files.  Dave led them down the long hallway to the back stairway of the hotel.
  They had ten flights of stairs to descend to reach freedom, and Trace hoped like hell they didn’t wind up in a gun battle inside the stairwell.  Dave had an automatic weapon, but Trace only had a pistol.  And Lou Ellen had her revolver, but in a gunfight, he didn’t suspect she’d be able to use it in close quarters. 

His relief grew with every floor they descended, but he knew they still has to make it across the parking lot.  When that happened, he would relax a little.
  The fact that Dave’s men were standing guard out there gave him a measure of comfort though. 

When t
hey finally reached the putty-gray emergency exit door on the bottom floor, Trace breathed again.  Dave glanced out the window in the door, then shoved his hip against the silver bar to open it.  “There’s a garbage truck parked back here by the dumpster.  I want ya’ll to walk in between the truck and the wall, then make your way behind the dumpster.  Caleb parked the van on the other side.  I’ll cover you.”

Lou Ellen went first in her pink bathrobe, followed by Talmedge Bartlett in his rumpled tuxedo, then Ronnie in her black party dress and finally his mother.  Trace went last and eased along the wall backward, his gun ready in case Dave needed help.
  He figured out quickly he probably should have gone ahead of the others when Lou Ellen stepped around the front of the garbage truck, and a bullet ricocheted off of the dumpster. 

Lou Ellen ducked behind the dumpster, Bartlett squealed, and Ronnie jerked him back behind the truck.  Trace stepped around them and took up a position at the front of the truck.
  Dave made a hand signal then returned fire.  One round.  Trace heard glass shatter, a few curses and quickly waved to the women.  He ushered them behind the dumpster.  One by one, Trace blocked them as they hopped into the open side door of the van.  He followed them inside and Dave ran behind the dumpster and jumped in too.  He slid the door shut, and shouted, “Go!” 

Caleb floored the van and the tires screeched.  Bullets pinged off the back of the van, and one left a hole at the top of the door.
  Trace heard more gunfire and figured Dave’s men were giving them cover to get away.  He leaned back against the side of the van and shut his eyes.  Ronnie put her hand on his arm.  “Are you okay?”

He opened his eyes and looked at her. 
“Yeah, you?”

“I think I just heard my last nerve break.  I’m ready for this to be over.”  Her eyes watered and her lower lip trembled.  “I don’t know how you did this for so many years.”

Trace huffed out a breath.  “Wasn’t easy.  Would probably have been easier if I liked my job.”

“You didn’t like being a cop?” She asked with surprise.

“Hated it.  I wanted  a normal life,” he admitted.  “I’m with you on hating the drama and never knowing what to expect.”

“Why did you do it then?” she asked.

“I did it because I wanted to prove to the world I was better than my father.  A better person, a better man,” he said and held her eyes.  “That didn’t work out so well.”

Ronnie’s jaw tightened and s
he put her hand on his.  Lacing her fingers through his she held his hand.  Her brown eyes got soft and dewy.  “You are a better man, and a better person.  You don’t have to prove that.  Everyone who has eyes can see that.”

“
That’s not true.  I wish I was more like you.  You’re the Shark Lady.  Nerves of steel.  You do your thing and don’t give a damn about what people think.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Trace,” she said, her voice low and intense.
 

This softer side of Ronnie got his full attention.  Not that she didn’t have it anyway.  Ignoring her soft side when it appeared, and it was appearing more and more often these days, was nearly impossible for him. 

He stroked the side of her hand with his thumb.  “How so?”

“Just like you, I have been trying to prove something all my life. 
Prove to my father that I am a better lawyer and person.  His approval and respect is all I’ve ever wanted,” she said with a humorless laugh, dragging her eyes from his.

Trace had always wondered what motivated Ronnie Winters.  What was behind her insane drive to win
at any cost in her career.  Even at the expense of people thinking she was just a bitch.  Now, he knew.  Her father.  “How could he not approve?  You are one of the most successful criminal attorneys in Texas, honey.”

“But he’s better.  And I’ve never been able to beat him.”

“It’s not a competition,” Trace said with a glance to his mother who was curled up in the crook of Lou Ellen’s arm trembling on the other side of the van.  The files she had clutched to her chest as they ran for the van were in her lap.  The mysterious black satchel, the one that could decide whether he stayed in town or hit the road, sat beside Lou Ellen.  “I don’t think it’s his respect you’re looking for.  I think it’s his attention.”

Ronnie’s wide eyes flew back to his and it looked
to Trace like she was having an epiphany of some sort.  Her mouth was soft and wide open.  At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to kiss her.  Let her know she sure had his attention.  So he did.  A soft, gentle kiss intended to comfort her.  To tell her how he felt about her without words.  Her free hand cupped the side of his face and she lengthened the kiss.  Warmth spread through him carrying something sweet with it to settle around his heart. 

Trace had never been in love with a woman.  Had never even come close to it.  He liked
a lot of women, respected them, but when they got too close to getting attached, he cut them loose.  With Ronnie Winters, against all odds, right now all he wanted to do was keep her close and protect her.  She was the last woman on Earth he ever thought he would feel that way about, or who would need his protection.  He was coming to see past her front.  She was just as vulnerable as he was.  Fighting the same demons, just from a different angle.  And he wasn’t sure, but he thought what he was feeling for her might be love.  He didn’t know if that was it, but he did know he was damned relieved he didn’t have to leave her yet.