Long, Tall Texans: Fearless Part 18

"Yes, you did have a call," Cash agreed. "From Fuentes, telling you to carry out your a.s.signment."

Consuelo gaped at him.

"Didn't I think to mention that we wiretapped your phone?" he added.

Consuelo's dark eyes flashed. She smiled coldly at Glory, showing her true colors at last. "Maybe I missed," she said, "but Fuentes will just get somebody else to collect the bounty!"

"I wouldn't bet on it," Cash told her. "We had his phone wiretapped, too."

"Brilliant," Glory said.

Cash helped her up while Consuelo was taken, still cursing, out to the squad car. "We get lucky sometimes," he said. "But then, we get problems as well. Marquez did get a warrant to wiretap Fuentes's phone," he added with a grimace. "But Fuentes has jumped bail. n.o.body knows where he is."

Glory felt weak in the knees. She sat down in a chair at the kitchen table. "So Consuelo was right. He'll send somebody else."

"We've got a deal working," Cash said. "I can't tell you the details, but it involves a big s.h.i.+pment of a very illegal product. Fuentes has had problems with his distributors. If he loses this load, we won't have to go after him. His distributors will take him out for us."

"Can I help?" she asked.

"Sure. Don't play with guns," he said, popping the clip out of the .45. "I heard about your target practice sessions."

"Yes, well, I would have probably hit something if I'd fired that," she said, indicating the gun.

"Good thing you bluff well," he added. "You okay?"

She nodded. "You know, I came down here to get away from stress."

"We've removed the hit woman," Cash said. "And we're working on Fuentes's operation. With any luck, we'll have you back in San Antonio in no time. If you really want to go," he added. "We heard about the marriage, too," he added with a grin.

"How?" she exclaimed. "I haven't told anyone!"

Cash looked uneasy. He frowned. "Funny. I can't remember how I found out."

This was suspicious. Something was going on that she wasn't being told about.

"Who told you?" she persisted.

He was beginning to look hunted when a truck roared up out front and a door slammed. Rodrigo came in the door like a tornado. He took in the scene, dark eyes blazing with concern. His chambray s.h.i.+rt was stained with sweat. His black hair fell damply over his forehead. It was a hot day.

"I heard the sirens out in the fields. What happened?" he asked.

"Just a little problem with the hired help," Glory said, trying to lighten the look on his face.

"Can you translate that?" he asked, approaching her.

She s.h.i.+fted uncomfortably on the chair. Her hip was killing her. "When I came home, Consuelo was waiting for me with that gun." She indicated it, stuck in Cash's belt.

"Consuelo?" He looked absolutely shocked. He went down on one knee in front of Glory, his lean, warm hands stroking her arms. "Did she hit you? Were you hurt?" he asked worriedly.

It was like going to heaven. She loved that look in his eyes that was part concern for her and part fury against the person who'd threatened her. She felt safe.

"Luckily your wife is handy with this cane," Cash interjected. He lifted the cane, felt its weight and frowned. "It's heavy."

"It was my great-grandfather's," Glory told him. "Back in his day, men oiled their canes, so they were heavier and could be used for self-protection. He used to kill rattlers with that. Good thing for me it was st.u.r.dy, because it only took one swing to send Consuelo into the wall headfirst."

"My brave girl," Rodrigo said, and his eyes were warm and soft and full of pride in her.

She wanted to believe that his concern was real, she wanted it so badly. She flung herself into his arms and held on for dear life, savoring the strength of his embrace.

"You had to save yourself, again," he said ruefully. "That's twice, in a handful of days. Two times too many. I have to take better care of you, Seora Ramirez."

Cash noticed the rings Glory was wearing. "That's a pretty set of wedding rings," he said, hoping to dig himself out of the hole he'd almost fallen into.

"Oh, you saw them," Glory remarked over Rodrigo's broad shoulder. She relaxed. So did Cash.

"I'd never have suspected Consuelo as a hit woman." Rodrigo cursed, still holding Glory close. "I should have known! If Marco was in on it, Consuelo had to be."

"She's got a rap sheet as long as my leg," Cash told him. "I gather you don't do background checks here."

"For a cook?" Rodrigo mused. "Get real."

"I noticed that she was wearing silk slacks and blouses," Glory commented. "I thought it was rather odd for working in a kitchen."

"I should have noticed that, too," Rodrigo mused.

She only smiled. She didn't want to hurt his feelings by remarking that a farm laborer would hardly know silk when he saw it.

Rodrigo saw that look and had to fight an angry response. Of course, she wasn't supposed to know that he was anything other than what he pretended to be. He glanced at Cash.

"Glory will have to fill out a report, won't she?"

"Yes, if we're going to charge Consuelo. She's also going to have to fill one out on Marco-I let it slide because she was so upset. I never imagined she'd be doing two of them!"

"I don't mind," Glory told Cash. "Tell me what to do," she added, pretending that she didn't know the procedure.

Cash walked her through it, trying not to laugh.

"I'll drive her over to the magistrate's court and let her swear out warrants for mother and son," Cash told Rodrigo. "I expect you're going to be busy trying to find a new cook."

"p.r.o.nto," Rodrigo agreed, helping Glory to her feet. "We've got s.h.i.+pments to get out, and this is the last of the peaches. Pity Consuelo had to reveal herself now. If she'd waited a few days, it would have been great for the farm."

"I don't think the farm was exactly her priority," Glory murmured. "I'll do my part as soon as I get through helping Chief Grier lock Marco and Consuelo up for a while."

"Talk to the judge," Rodrigo advised Cash. "Try to get her to set bail upward of a million dollars on each of them."

"I'll do my best," Cash agreed.

"You're sure you're all right?" Rodrigo asked, because Glory's color was high.

"I'm just fine. A little unsettled by all the excitement, that's all," she rea.s.sured him. Her hip hurt, and her heart was beating far too fast. She hoped she wouldn't disgrace herself by pa.s.sing out.

He nodded. "You'll bring her home?" he asked Cash.

"Of course."

"Then, I'll get on the phone and start looking for a cook," Rodrigo replied.

"You might try Angel Martinez's wife," Glory said. "She's a great cook, according to Angel."

He gave her a long look. "They're probably both illegal."

"You don't know that," she told him firmly.

He searched her eyes and then, finally, smiled. "All right. But if I end up in federal prison for harboring illegals, you'll have to bail me out."

"n.o.body is going to need bailing out except Consuelo and her son, and you can quote me," Cash a.s.sured him with a grin. "Angel and his family are going to be just fine." Fortunately he didn't look at Glory when he said that. The two of them had called in favors to get Angel's case heard, hopefully with good results. Meanwhile, the man had three children to support, and his wife didn't work.

"What will she do with the kids?" Rodrigo asked with some concern. "None of them are older than seven. She can't leave them alone while she works over here."

"She can bring the children with her," Glory said to Rodrigo, smiling. "We'll keep them busy while we cook."

Rodrigo gave her a long look, but he didn't comment.

SHE AND CASH STOPPED by the magistrate's office, took out a warrant for Marco for aggravated a.s.sault and one for Consuelo's arrest on attempted murder. Cash added one for possession of a firearm, because Consuelo had a criminal record and wasn't allowed to own a gun. Glory filled out reports and chatted. The Magistrate was fascinated by the story, especially her foiling of the murder plot on her own.

"These drug lords are getting far too powerful," he commented. "But where there's a demand, there will be a supply. That applies to most everything, but especially drugs." He shook his head. "When I was a boy-" he looked over his gla.s.ses at her and grinned under his gray hair "-we didn't have drugs in the schools. I have to admit, I never even knew anyone who used them. But that was in the fifties. The whole world has changed since then. We watched Hopalong Ca.s.sidy and Roy Rogers at the theaters, and then Superman on black and white TV. We had wholesome heroes to emulate. It seems to me that in the modern world, far too many boys admire drug dealers, and their goal in life is to grow up and go to prison." He shook his head. "Somehow, we're losing an entire generation of productive citizens, and drugs are mostly responsible. Quick money, flashy cars, no working your way into a better job and a stiff prison sentence when you get caught. How is that appealing?"

"Don't ask me," Glory replied. "I spend most of my time helping them get into prison."

"I have heard about your record," the magistrate said with a smile. "You're a trouper, Miss Barnes." He hesitated. "I knew your father. He was a good man. It hurt us all to see him unjustly punished for something he didn't do."

"Thank you for that," she said, fighting tears. "I did clear his name, even if it was years too late. His conviction was why I studied law."

"I thought it might be. I'm glad to have had the opportunity to meet you. Now that Blake Kemp is our county D.A., you might consider coming back here to fight crime." He looked at her over his gla.s.ses again. "I could look for some silver bullets and a mask...?"

She laughed. "I could never pa.s.s for The Lone Ranger," she a.s.sured him. "I'm too short."

"Still," he said wistfully. "It's a thought."

"MOST MAGISTRATES ARE rather somber, I've found," she told Cash on the way home.

"Not Lionel," he replied. "He's the town character. I think the modern term is 'eccentric.'"

"Does he do eccentric things?"

"Depends on your point of view," Cash replied. "I suppose some people would feel uncomfortable with a wolf in the house, but he's a bachelor. I guess he can do what he pleases."

"A wolf? A real wolf?" she exclaimed.

He nodded. "She's a beauty, too. He found her on the highway and went through the usual maddening channels of bureaucracy trying to help her. Vets can't treat wild animals, you know, you have to locate a certified rehabilitator. There aren't a lot of them, and many hurt animals die while you're looking for one who will answer the phone." He glanced at her. "Most of them are so overworked that they cringe every time the phone rings. Well, anyway, Lionel took the wolf in and nursed her back to health, and then took the course that certifies you as a wildlife rehabilitator. He specializes in wolves. So he was allowed to keep the wolf, which lost a leg as the result of the accident. It could never go back into the wild, you see. He takes it around to the elementary school and gives lectures on wolves. It's a very gentle wolf. The kids love it. It's on a leash, of course. He may be eccentric but he's not crazy. All it would take is one little boy who smells strongly of bologna..."

"Oh, stop!" she exclaimed, laughing. "That's terrible!"

"It could be. But he's a responsible pet owner. He even has a city 'wolf license.'"

"n.o.body gets a wolf license!" she scoffed.

"You can get one if you know the chief of police and he has ties to the city fathers." He looked suitably modest.

"Yes, but that's only because the city fathers are scared to death of you," she pointed out. "You're too dangerous for people to risk offending you."

"Why, thank you," he replied good-naturedly.

"Oh, you're a local legend all over Texas," she confided. "I understand that our state attorney general threatens people with you."

"Only federal people," he said. "And only if they make him very angry. I am, after all, his cousin."

"Really!" She was impressed.

He smiled. "I have ties to strange places," he mused. "Like one of our feds who works undercover. He's got a price on his head in every country on earth except this one. He's helped put away some of the bigger drug cartel members, not to mention running down a child killer in Central America on horseback through a jungle. Not an easy task on good days. It was pouring rain."

"Who is this madman?" she asked, laughing.

He looked odd. He cleared his throat. "Well, I never knew his name," he lied. "He was undercover, you know."

She smiled. "He must be on everyone's list of people to call in dire situations."

"He is."

"I wish you could have him come down here and take Fuentes into a jungle and do G.o.d-knows-what with him," she muttered. "He's still out there, and I'm still in his sights, figuratively speaking." "We're working on that. Be patient. And be careful," he added quietly. "You're in some dangerous company at that farm."

Her heart jumped up into her throat. "What...do you mean?"

He cursed under his breath. He hadn't wanted to say anything, but it was better if she knew the truth. She might let her guard down and be killed. "One or two of your workers have rap sheets, mostly for physical a.s.sault. One took out a cop in Dallas and they could never prove it-he killed the one witness who saw it happen." He pulled up into the yard of the farm, cut the engine and turned to look at her. She was pale. "That cane makes a good weapon, but people will hear about how you used it. It won't work a second time. I'd like to take you out to our target range and teach you how to shoot properly." He held up a hand when she started to speak. "It's not rocket science. It can be taught. I'll send for you Sat.u.r.day morning, about nine. Marquez will be home, and he's got a nice little .32 revolver that you can use. It doesn't kick as much as a .45, and it will fit your hand better."

"He tried to teach me already," she protested.

"Marquez tried to teach his mother," Cash said, glowering. "He taught her how to shoot crows."

"Excuse me?" She was shocked. Barbara, Marquez's foster mother, adored crows!

"He was explaining to her how the gun kicked and said she had to compensate. He didn't say how. She thought he meant she should hold the nose up higher when she fired, so she did, and she hit a crow. Fortunately she only singed his tail feathers. He kept going. But now they call her the Crow Crippler, and she won't touch a gun anymore."

She burst out laughing. It sounded like Rick, who wasn't the world's best instructor, even if he was enthusiastic.

"So I'll teach you," Cash replied.

"Okay. My liability insurance is paid up," she agreed. "But do make sure no squad cars park within range of the gun."