Shelter From The Storm (The Bare Bones MC Book 6)(15)

In fact, I could hear a four-wheel-drive quad heading our way already. While I was looking over his shoulder in the direction of the sound, Wolf started waving his rifle madly. “Hey! We’re over here!” he yelled to the unknown driver.

I put a hand on his arm and applied gentle pressure to lower his weapon. Wouldn’t want him blasting a barrage of rounds into the sky. Those bullets had to come down somewhere. “Wolf. Wait ’til we see who it is. We don’t need this reported to the cops.”

He looked at me with an idealistic, cheerful expression. I was starting to suspect he looked like that all the time. “Oh, no one who works here will report anything. Especially if it’s an Ochoa. They use some of Ochoa’s shittier weed in A Joint System, charging less of course than Leaves of Grass’ primo bud, but we’re hardly friends with them. Let me look at his wallet.”

As Wolf booted the body onto what was left of its face, I kicked myself for not having thought of that. “Lots of illegals have their I-862 form on them.”

Wolf unclipped the wallet from the guy’s chinos and opened it gingerly. It was funny how he was so careful with a clean wallet, but had cheerfully taken a selfie with a faceless guy. “Yeah, if he works for Ochoa. They’ve got to be as legit as possible to be bought out by Gunhammer. Yup, here it is. I-862, Notice to Appear in immigration court. Jorge Sanchez. He’s even stupid enough to have a pot farm business card with Ruben Ochoa’s name on it.”

Even I had heard of Ruben Ochoa, though northern Arizona wasn’t my usual neck of the woods. “I wonder why Ruben would risk sending this laborer over here,” I mused.

Lytton drove to his side of the fence and got off the quad. He killed the motor so we could talk in reasonable tones as we explained what had happened. I figured, be honest. I thought the guy was tailing June and I wanted to know why.

Lytton said, “Probably sussing us up, since we’re Ruben Ochoa’s biggest competitor in the whole state. I wouldn’t give him a tour of the place when he asked a few months ago. He probably wants to know what I’ve got that he doesn’t. I told him I was considering Gunhammer’s proposal, which is true. Any proposal should be considered. I could change my mind and go for it. My weed is far superior to Ruben’s. They’ve got those super mega steroid plants that get as big as Christmas trees and suck all the water from his creek. I’m sure Gunhammer would prefer taking over Leaves of Grass.”

Wolf pointed at Sanchez. “I nailed him in the face. Sorry about the mess on your fence.”

I didn’t usually stoop to petty competition like this. But I needed Lytton’s approval in order to stick around Pure and Easy, decide what to do about Pippa. “Yeah, well I got him in the chest. Why not go for the biggest target, right?”

Lytton nodded, but Wolf declared, “You want to be sure he’s dead, don’t you?”

I kicked the body so it lay on its back again. “Uh, I’d say he was dead when the first round went right through his heart.”

“Listen,” said Lytton, as though he hadn’t even been listening to us fussing and fighting. “I want to give you guys a task. You’re a professional, right, Fox?”

I nodded uncertainly. A task would be good, would give me a reason to stick around, to draw out making a decision about Pippa that I couldn’t undo. “A task…doing what I do?”

“Not unless you have to. Wolf’s good about that.”

I snorted at the ridiculous buffoon. “His timing isn’t the best. He seems capable of overkill.”

Lytton ignored that part. “I want you guys to find out why the Ochoas are suddenly spying on me. Find out what this stiff wanted. Ruben’s gonna know something’s up when his guy doesn’t come back, so do it without anyone seeing you, if possible.”

Wolf sneered. “That sounds like a job for Tobias, to hack into Ochoa’s computer. I’m going up to the house anyway to see Tracy. I can tell Tobias.”

Lytton laughed. “Still pining away for Tracy?”

Wolf made a lip fart. “Who said I’m pining? I just wanted to get some Eminence Front at cost.”

Lytton said, “Well good, because I’m gonna need you guys to bury this pinche guey. Let me deal with Tobias. I’ll have my guard bring you a couple of shovels. Do a super good job. Last guy we buried out here, the coyotes dug up.”





CHAPTER SIX




PIPPA


“Use your core muscles. Tighten them up and don’t stop even when you’ve released the arrow. Don’t lower your bow until you hear the arrow hit the target.”

There seemed to be so many things to remember all at once. Breathe in, exhale. Keep your bow fingers loose. Don’t look at the level. Feet wide apart, but not too wide. Elbow up. The mysterious Fox was a hitman, so he should know about shooting things. But having the heat of his body slam up against me while I was drawing back a thirty-pound compound bow, well, that was distracting.

No doubt he was a “known felon,” the sort I wasn’t supposed to fraternize with. How did a white guy get to become a sicario, anyway? When he took off his black leather jacket, I could see around the tissue-thin white tank top that hung from his sinewy frame that he did indeed have some tattoos. Looked like a Bible verse covering his back, in a very artistic way, of course. Other tribal artwork twined around his biceps, and a big cursive statement disappeared tantalizingly over a pectoral. I found I enjoyed watching him shoot, watching the images come to life on his body. A mermaid on his right bicep undulated when he drew the bow.