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  Iceman may be the younger brother, but he’d tried to rein Otis in and protect him when he went too far and pissed off the wrong people. Which got Iceman noticed by some of the very people Otis despised, yet used for reasons of his own.

  Truthfully, Iceman had given up trying to figure out Otis’s warped mind and why he did things long ago.

  “Put the shotgun down, Otis. It’s me.” Iceman walked out of the bushes with his hands up and made his way across the small yard.

  Otis dropped the barrel of the gun to point at the ground but didn’t put it away. “What the hell are you doing here?” He stared past Iceman looking for any sign of Cara.

  “She’s at work. She doesn’t know I’m here.”

  “What’s wrong now?”

  Iceman hated that his only brother always thought the worst of him. Sometimes he was right, but not all the time.

  “Something’s happened.”

  “What now?”

  “Cara hired a new guy at her place.”

  Otis shrugged. “After those two ran off and married, I expected she would.”

  Iceman narrowed his gaze. “He’s an ex-con who knew who I was.”

  “So? Plenty of people know who you are and stay clear of you because of it.”

  Iceman tried to drive home his point. “He came with a recommendation from one of my men.”

  Anger flashed in Otis’s eyes. Finally, he caught on to the potential danger. “He came to work for you but hired on with Cara? She won’t like that. She finds out you planted someone in her place, she’ll kill you.”

  “It’s not like that at all.”

  Otis gave him a derisive glare.

  “My guy up in the state pen sent him to Cara for a job because he wants to go straight.”

  Otis spit in the dirt at his side. “Your guy confirmed it.”

  “Said the guy is one hell of a fighter and saved his ass more than once. He had the bruises to prove it. I saw him knock out one of my guys with one punch.”

  “And you let him go after that?” Otis eyed him, not believing it for a second.

  Iceman had earned his reputation with action, not empty threats.

  “The guy was beating on his kid. Flash took care of it before I had to.”

  Otis didn’t for one second give him the benefit of the doubt. “And possibly sweeten your sour rep? I don’t think so.”

  “I don’t care what you think.”

  Otis gave him another look that said he knew otherwise. They both did. For better or worse, he still valued his brother’s opinion.

  “Damn it, Otis. I don’t know this guy’s game, but I know he’s playing one.”

  “Why? Because he got out of jail, had a way in with you if he wanted it, but decided to go to work for Cara instead?”

  “Exactly.”

  Otis shook his head. “Not everyone is out to get you.”

  “The government isn’t listening to all our cell phone calls either,” Iceman shot back. They shared the same sense of suspicion but in different ways. The threat against Iceman was real, while most of Otis’s were imagined.

  “That’s what you think.”

  Iceman held his hands out to his sides, then let them fall back and slap his thighs. Frustration building, he took a breath and tried to remember that giving Otis an opportunity to spout off about the government, spying, regulations, and half-baked conspiracy theories only led down a road of futility in trying to redirect him back to the subject at hand.

  “I’m here because I’m concerned about Cara.”

  “Well, that would be a first.”

  “Damn it, Otis, you know how much I love her. Everything I have done is to protect her.”

  Otis pointed a finger right in his face. “Ha. That’s a lie. You think you did her a favor walking out of her life? All you did was make her a target. You want to protect her, you should stay as far away as possible. Stop going into her shop. Stop dropping by her place. Stop trying to keep one foot in her life while you’re neck-deep in the cartel’s.”

  Iceman tried to keep the conversation on track. “For all Scott’s assurances this guy isn’t a threat, I still think it’s worth keeping an eye on him and Cara.”

  “What does Cara think of him?”

  “He’s a guy any woman would notice.”

  That got an eyebrow raise from Otis.

  “Listen, I don’t want him near my daughter. I don’t want her to get hurt again.”

  Otis let out a belly laugh that sounded rusty. “So a good-looking guy shows up that Cara, a woman who knows the dark side of men, will notice and probably not trust because he’s got a record, and you’re worried he might . . . what? Use her to get to you? Why, if he already had Scott’s recommendation and a way in with you and your men? Or maybe you’re worried he’ll be interested in her for reasons that have nothing to do with you. Maybe she’ll like him, even fall for him, and she’ll want to make a life with him. Away from here. And you.”

  “Don’t you think I want her to be happy?”

  “I think the only thing that makes you happy is having some kind of connection to her, even if it is strained and hostile and unwanted on her part. Let her go. For her sake. And yours. How would you feel if she was used against you again? Remember the last time?”

  “Of course I do. That’s why I want you to keep an eye on this guy. Something about him isn’t right.”

  Otis gave him a lopsided frown and shook his head. “I’ve always got my eye on her. No one will ever hurt her again. That includes you.”

  “I’ll keep watch on her when I can. Let me know if you find anything out about him that puts her at risk.”

  “Like he sees what a beautiful woman she is and wants to sleep with her?”

  This time Iceman rolled his eyes. “Do you have a load ready for me? I can take it since I’m here.”

  “You sure you don’t want to send one of your guys? Never know if those damn sheriff’s deputies who constantly patrol the road will pull you over for no reason other than they’re looking for one.”

  Iceman dismissed Otis’s paranoia. Even as a kid, he saw monsters where there were none. “They’re doing their job, not spying on you.”

  Otis waved Iceman to follow him around to the back of the house and a locked door most would dismiss as nothing more than a storage closet. This room held something far more valuable than a water heater or boxed-up Christmas decorations.

  Otis pulled the keys from his pocket and unlocked the heavy-duty padlock. He swung the door wide to reveal the stacked crates of mason jars filled with moonshine. A little side business Iceman ran with Otis that Cara didn’t know about. She could never know, or she’d take it as yet another act of betrayal on his part, even though Otis made the moonshine and set up the distribution and sale through him when he moved back here after their parents died to keep an eye on Cara. He got off sticking it to the government making the illegal contraband.

  Iceman kept things simple. He wanted to make money. He pulled the wad of bills from his pocket and counted out fifteen hundred dollars. He’d make twice that on the sale. Otis didn’t seem to mind the split. He took his money, stuffed it in his pocket, and hefted up the first crate and started for Iceman’s car.

  Loaded up, Iceman sat in the front seat and stared up at his brother. “You’ve got the burner cell I gave you. Call me if anything comes up with Cara.”

  Iceman drove away knowing he could be overreacting to someone new in Cara’s life but not ready to let her live it without him watching out for her. He may have enlisted Otis’s help, but Iceman would personally see the new guy didn’t mess with his daughter and get away with it.

  Chapter Six

  King followed Cara from the coffee shop to her place, driving down a long two-lane road that seemed to have no end in sight. His burner phone rang in his back pocket. He dug it out and answered. “Flash.”

  “Can you talk?”

  Flash recognized Agent Bennett’s voice immediately. “Did you get the p
roduce truck?”

  “Yeah. And the driver. Some guy named Francisco Vega. He’s got a shitty attitude and a huge bruise on his jaw. He said some big dude with blond hair sucker punched him. Know anything about that?”

  “He was beating up his kid and got what he deserved.”

  “Yeah, well, he’ll get a lot more for the fifty crates of cocaine we recovered. He’ll be in jail the rest of his life.”

  “Is he willing to give up Iceman and the others?”

  “What do you think?” Agent Bennett’s skepticism conveyed the reality of drug dealers. Loyalty ran deep in the cartels. If you snitched, not even a jail cell kept you alive.

  “Did you receive an anonymous tip about the truck?”

  “How did you know?”

  “Cara Potter called it in after Tim and I got to the coffee shop. She ratted out her father.”

  “So it’s true. She and Iceman aren’t working together. She really does hate him.”

  “That’s how it looks. But I’ll keep my eye on her. She may have just wanted to pay him back for making the kid ditch work and putting him in danger of fucking up his whole life.”

  If she wasn’t working with Iceman, his options were limited. Either he got close enough to her to pull her over to his side and turned her against her father and made her actively try to take him down, or he found another way that didn’t involve her at all.

  “If they’re working together, why would she fuck up a big shipment?”

  “I’m keeping an open mind.” And trying to keep his mind on the job and not her beautiful but never smiling face. The way her eyes sparked with anger, but held a wealth of caring if you looked deep enough. The cute freckles that dotted the tops of her cheeks but not her nose. The way she held her hand against her thigh hoping no one noticed the scars and her missing pinky.

  “Do you know how she lost her finger? It’s not in the file.”

  “That remains a mystery. The agent doing the background on her dug deep but couldn’t find a medical record or anyone willing to spill the beans on how she lost it.”

  “Don’t you find that odd?”

  “Not when she’s mixed up with the drug cartels. It’s not uncommon for those savages to hack off body parts for any number of reasons. Stealing. Talking. Not talking. Revenge. Just to prove a point. Because they have a bug up their ass.” The pessimism and annoyance in Bennett’s voice matched Flash’s feelings on the cartel’s brutal way of handling even the smallest problem.

  Flash didn’t want to think about some evil bastard torturing her. But he couldn’t stop wondering about her hand and the undercurrent of anger that ran through her.

  He wondered if she ever smiled and meant it.

  Did she ever let loose and relax?

  Did she have a boyfriend? Someone who made her happy and loosened up all those tight muscles with one hot kiss? He didn’t think so. It wasn’t in the file. He didn’t think she let anyone close enough to matter to her, let alone touch her.

  A shame, really. Because if not for this job, he’d really like to get his hands on all those curves and smooth away the sharp edges of her attitude and find the softness her cold indifference to everything and everyone smothered.

  The file was right: her customers loved her and the delicious food she served. She knew how to be a gracious hostess to those who frequented her shop. But the show didn’t last past her welcoming smile and friendly hello and meaningless small talk. Her customers knew nothing about her, except she made the best donuts in the state. Her employees barely knew more than that about her. Everything of consequence she kept to herself.

  He’d like to know what she truly thought about her father, his business, and her life. What really made her want to help people when she didn’t want to let them into her life?

  “King? Did you hear me?”

  Lost in his thoughts about a woman who was and would remain off-limits to him, he focused on the beat-up red truck turning right in front of him, and his boss on the phone.

  “Sorry, no. I’m trying to follow Cara back to her place.”

  “It’s isolated even if it isn’t that far from the coffee shop. Believe it or not, she owns all the land in between.”

  “The business doesn’t generate that much money. How does she afford all the land?”

  “Used to belong to her grandparents. They left her everything and cut out Iceman and his brother.”

  “Brother? He’s not mentioned in the files.”

  “He’s another mystery. We haven’t been able to find him. He hasn’t paid taxes or earned an income we can verify since the eighties.”

  “Are you shitting me?”

  “No.”

  “Death record?”

  “Nope. After several arrests in the late sixties and early seventies for various protests that painted a picture of a man even other protestors distanced themselves from because of his overly aggressive tactics to get others to believe in their ideals, he dropped off the grid. No credit cards, bank accounts, marriage certificate, or children that we know of, not even a library card.”

  “Damn. Anyone around Iceman that could be his brother?”

  “All the men in his crew are accounted for, so our best guess is that the brother is dead or living in the backwoods off the land.”

  King stored that away. It didn’t have any relevance on his case if the man wasn’t part of Iceman’s crew.

  “The bust is going to hit the news tonight,” Agent Bennett went on.

  “Check back through the tip line for calls received before a bust that in some way links back to Iceman and his crew.”

  “What am I looking for?”

  “How many times has Cara called in a tip before today? I want to know if she’s really against her father, or if this was an isolated incident.”

  “You got it. I won’t call again unless I have something urgent. What we really need is Iceman’s base of operation and his storage places.”

  King didn’t need the reminder. His mission had been made very clear. “I got you the missing truck day one.”

  “Imagine what tomorrow will bring.”

  “Don’t expect much. Cara isn’t the sharing sort.”

  “I have every confidence you’ll get her on your side.”

  “Not likely. She doesn’t trust anyone.”

  “The job is to get her to trust you.” With that, Agent Bennett hung up.

  Flash stared at the woman sliding out of her truck and turning to him. How did you get someone who’d been taught no one could be trusted to have a little faith in him, a convict? Or so she thought.

  He’d stick to the basics. Do what she asked, when she asked it. Earn her trust little by little by being an exemplary employee and making himself her right-hand man. If she began to count on him, she’d instinctually trust him. Right?

  The suspicious look she shot his way when he didn’t immediately get out of the truck said otherwise.

  He cleared the call log on his phone, slipped it back into his pocket, grabbed his large duffel, and opened the truck door ready to put everything he was into this assignment.

  “Who’d you call?” She didn’t even try to sound casual with that direct question.

  “Parole officer. I made an appointment to see him tomorrow after work.”

  “Clay’s a good guy. You shoot straight, he’ll help you get through this part of the process.”

  “I only know how to shoot straight.” That’s what snipers do, and he was damn good at his job. But he had some payback to dole out to Iceman for setting him up to make that kill and take out Manny Castillo. King didn’t like being used. Especially as some drug dealer’s hit man.

  “Good. Because if you bullshit him or me, you’ll find your ass is grass once again.”

  “Listen, I just got out of jail where everyone has an attitude and hostility runs high. Do you think you can dial it back just a little? I’m grateful for the job and the place to stay. I’m not here to cause you or anyone else any trouble.
Six months, that’s all I need to get back on track.”

  “Then what?” Her voice held more curiosity than suspicion this time.

  “I don’t know yet, but I can’t go back home with this hanging over my head.”

  “Do you have family around here?”

  “Southern Montana. My father runs his own ranch.”

  “Why not work for him until your parole is over?”

  “Disappointing him with my life choices left a rift between us. I’m not ready to crawl back home as the low-life son he thinks I am until I’m back on my feet.”

  Her eyebrow cocked up along with the suspicion she used as armor. “And working at a coffee shop will get you back on your feet?”

  He understood her skepticism. It wasn’t the most likely of jobs for a guy like him. “Gainful employment for six months with my nose and record clean. A lot of people go through your place. People who could hook me up with a better job down the road. On your recommendation.”

  “Scott told you about that, huh?”

  “That you’ve placed near to a dozen ex-cons in well-paying, steady jobs they’d have never gotten if you hadn’t recommended them. Jobs that helped give them new lives. Yeah. So every time you look at me and wonder what I want from you, now you know. But understand one thing.”

  “What’s that?” The skepticism came back into her voice.

  “I’ll earn it.”

  “You’ll have to if you want anything from me.”

  “Scott said he wouldn’t send me to you if he had a single doubt about my determination to stay straight.”

  “That’s because Scott knows his head is on the line if someone he sends to me isn’t on the up-and-up. Iceman would cut him down for me.”