Rendezvous With Yesterday (The Gifted Ones #2)(2)
She opened the back door as Josh circled to the trunk. Kingsley and Vergoma’s case files lay on the back seat, along with a stun gun, pepper spray, two pairs of handcuffs, leg irons, and a couple of navy blue jackets with BAIL ENFORCEMENT emblazoned on the back in bright yellow letters.
Beth reluctantly donned the smaller jacket, more to thwart West Nile-carrying mosquitoes than to identify herself as a bounty hunter and prevent any confusion if law enforcement should arrive on the scene.
Law enforcement wouldn’t arrive on this scene. They didn’t even know this place existed.
She pulled out the backpack.
Josh halted when he saw it. “What’s that?”
“Marc made me promise to bring it.”
“What the hell for? What’s in it?”
“Water, first aid stuff, my cell phone, extra ammo…” She tucked her arms through the loops and hoisted it onto her back. “Marc packed most of it. He said it’s best to be prepared for anything.” Marc was their next-door neighbor and closest friend.
“You are not bringing that,” Josh informed her. “Take it off.”
“No. I told him I’d wear it.”
“You only agreed to bring it because you’re attracted to him.”
Guilty heat stole into her cheeks. “I am not.”
“Yes, you are. You know damn well if he weren’t seeing someone else, you would have jumped him by now.”
She sure as hell would have. Marc was hot. “What woman wouldn’t? He’s freaking gorgeous.” Over six feet tall with a tight, muscled body. Black hair that fell several inches below broad shoulders. A neatly trimmed mustache and beard she had fantasized about abrading her skin. A chiseled jaw. Soulful eyes so dark brown they almost matched his hair.
Yeah. She would’ve totally jumped him if he weren’t taken.
“Besides, Marc isn’t a bounty hunter,” Josh pointed out.
“No, but we’ve both suspected for some time now that he works for the CIA or FBI or one of those other agencies that has something to do with national security.” Marc claimed he worked in the private security business, but… “All those weird hours he keeps. The monochromatic wardrobe.”
“Dude always wears black,” Josh muttered.
“The cloak-and-dagger secrecy crap, and the wounds we’ve seen him come home with late at night. It’s like living next door to a freaking agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.”
Josh shook his head as he pulled his jacket on over the shoulder holster that encased his Glock 9mm. “The pack stays, Beth.” He thrust the handcuffs in one pocket, the pepper spray in the other, and clipped the stun gun to his belt. “It’ll only slow you down. Especially in this heat.”
The heat index was supposed to reach a hundred and ten today. Typical Houston summer.
Beth raised her chin as she looped the strap of their pistol-grip shotgun over one shoulder. “The pack goes.”
Almost against his will it seemed, Josh smiled. “You think you have enough weapons there, sport?”
She glanced down. With two 9mms, the shotgun, and the tiny .22 Josh didn’t even know she had tucked in one boot, she supposed she did.
Beth sent him a teasing grin. “I don’t know. I think I could use a few more.”
Shaking his head, he popped the trunk and reached inside. “You know how rarely bounty hunters have to draw weapons.”
“When they aren’t butching it up on TV,” she added.
“Exactly. In all this time, I’ve only drawn mine once. And I’ve only had to use the stun gun twice.”
She shrugged. “Marc said there was something about these guys that made him nervous. I trust his instincts.” And her own. Despite the bravado she attempted to convey, she kept feeling like something was going to go very, very wrong.
“Just keep in mind that legally we’re only allowed to use lethal force if our own lives are threatened.” He held out a sheathed hunting knife. “Here. Take this.”
Beth took it and stared down at it, uncomprehending. “What do you want me to do with it?” Hadn’t he just razzed her about having too many weapons?
He closed the trunk. “Strap it to your other thigh.”
“Ooookay.” She did, wondering what possible purpose the knife would serve.
“There’s a compass in the handle,” Josh reminded her.
“Oh. Right.”
“Keep an eye on it. If we become separated or if something foul goes down, I want you to use it to find your way back to the car and get the hell out of Dodge.”
Beth nodded, knowing she would never leave Josh behind but seeing no point in arguing.
“Okay, let’s get going. Keep your steps quiet. And the moment you feel that pack slowing you down, drop the damned thing.”
Keeping her steps quiet proved to be impossible. Texas still suffered from a severe drought, so the ground beneath their feet bore no grass. Dried and cracked, the heavy clay soil felt as hard as concrete beneath her boots. A thick layer of crisp brown leaves coated it, having fled the parched and dying trees above them. Weeds and saplings struggled to survive, their limbs snapping at the slightest touch.
Beth kept her face impassive, though inwardly she grimaced.
Oppressive heat pressed down on her like a pair of hands on her shoulders, weighting every step. Within minutes, sweat saturated her clothing and dampened her hair. Josh’s, too. The plethora of leaves that crunched beneath their boots left gaping holes in the canopy above, allowing the sun to bombard them at will. And not even the hint of a breeze stirred the few leaves that still clung to brittle branches.