Firebreak (Josie Gray Mysteries #4)(88)

“I know this doesn’t go down easy for you, Josie. Taking advice. But it’s what I do. The Medranos are like a giant octopus with tentacles prying into every crack and crevice, looking to exploit, to make money, to increase their power. You are an impediment to them. An embarrassment. Not only have you effectively stopped their migration into West Texas,” he looked over at her, “but you’re a female. I’m not sure you understand the significance of that fact.”

Josie picked up a handful of stones and skimmed them out across the water, watching them zip across the brown surface before sinking to the bottom. “I’m still alive. He must not want me dead too bad.”

He turned his dark eyes on her. “It’s not so easy as that. You’re an anomaly to them. A curiosity. And I can’t quite figure out how you’ve accomplished that. And that worries me.”

Josie had never met the Bishop, the current leader of the Medrano cartel, but his brutal rule was notorious. They walked the bank for another two hundred feet and after finding nothing they hiked back to the kayaks.

Josie scanned the river for any sign of movement on either side. She bent down and pulled her Beretta from her ankle holster. She stood and took aim on the kayaks, then shot half a dozen holes in them, the gunshots loud in the still evening. The kayaks jerked with each bullet. She replaced her gun, secure in the knowledge that they were incapable of crossing the river for now. She hoped to send a clear message. I too am watching.

*

Driving back to Josie’s they were both quiet. When they reached her house Nick parked and shut the engine off.

“Let’s not talk shop any more tonight. Come inside?” she asked.

When they walked back into Josie’s house they found Chester hadn’t moved from his place on the rug. She found a bone in the pantry and slipped it between his paws.

Josie went to the stereo and put a Norah Jones CD on. She smiled at the rich mellow voice. “I wish I could dance, just so I could move to that music,” she said.

Nick came up to her from behind and pulled her hair off her neck. He kissed the hollow behind her ear. “This is why I don’t get involved with people I work for,” he said.

Josie turned around and faced him, placing her hands around his waist and slipping them under his T-shirt to run her fingers along his smooth skin. She leaned forward and kissed him lightly and whispered, “Why don’t you want to get involved with me?”

“If something happens to you?” He cradled her face in his hands, his own expression fierce. “I don’t think I could deal with it.”

She placed a finger on his lips. “This type of talk is strictly against your rules for romance. Didn’t you tell me to quit thinking like a cop?”

His expression faltered, and she could feel his hands relax, the tension broken.

She smiled and reached her hands up around his neck. “Teach me another rule.”





ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Tricia Fields lives in a log cabin on a small farm with her husband. She was born in Hawaii but has spent most of her life in small-town Indiana, where her husband is a state trooper. She won the Tony Hillerman Prize for her first mystery, The Territory, which was also named a Sun-Sentinel Best Mystery Debut of the Year, and was followed by Scratchgravel Road and Wrecked. Sign up for email updates here.