Wild Mustang Security Firm Complete Collection #1-6

Chapter 6

Chapter

Six

J ohn was waiting with his SUV when Mac and his men exited their motel rooms and hopped in. As he opened the door, Mac could smell bacon, coffee, and other heavenly breakfast aromas.

“Mandy thought you boys would be hungry, and if we want to try to stay in front of this story and ahead of the press, we’ll need to eat on the go. There’s coffee in the thermos and creamer and sugar in one of the Tupperware bowls. The other one has homemade salsa. The cooler there actually has a hot pad in the bottom, and Mandy made breakfast burritos with extra bacon.”

The men tucked in, and for the next few minutes, all that could be heard was happy munching and words of thanks for Mandy’s thoughtfulness and excellent cooking skills.

“So, where are the horses?” Mac asked.

“Mandy texted Gus last night. He’ll meet us at Tortilla Flats with the horses saddled and ready to go. There are scabbards and rifles in the back of the SUV, and the horses will already have water and provisions. If you’re going to stay out overnight, I can arrange to have a camp set up for you. I asked Mandy about Willa’s availability, but she’s gone off on her own little adventure.”

“Still stealing mustangs?” Mac asked, his voice laced with amusement.

“You know Mandy and Willa—they have a don’t ask, don’t tell policy, seeing as I’m a US Marshal.”

Mac shook his head. “You know, at some point, she’s going to cost those bastards enough money, they decide to do something about her meddling.”

“Willa’s careful, Mac. You remember how she likes to push boundaries and rules.”

“I remember all too well. I sometimes wonder how I might have done things differently. I’m not sure I understood at first how important it was to her or how dangerous it became as the money got better. So many things I would have changed in retrospect, but we all learn from our mistakes, then move to correct them.”

John shot him a sideways glance, and Mac grinned. He knew John had heard the subtext in what he was saying but would respect Mac’s privacy… only so long as Mac’s men were sitting in the truck with them.

“I understand,” John said with a grin of his own. “If it comes to it, we might have to enlist Willa’s help in tracking Eastwick.”

“I think at some point, we’ll most definitely need Willa’s assistance, regardless of when we catch Eastwick.” Mac sobered a moment, trying to plan three moves ahead. “Think she’ll agree without a lot of fuss?”

“Willa? There’s always fuss with Willa, but I’ll get Mandy to ask her. Willa generally checks in with Mandy, even when she’s out and about.” John dropped his voice to keep the others from hearing. “Just so you know, Mandy never stopped hoping you’d come charging back into Willa’s life on your white steed.”

“What about you? Didn’t you want us to get back together?”

“Sure, I did. Unlike Mandy, I knew at some point, you’d pull your head out of your ass, come back here, and drop a loop over your wild mustang.”

Mac chuckled.

“Well, tell Mandy we may need Willa’s help. I’m not sure about the rest of it. The two of them were always thicker than thieves. And tell your beautiful wife thanks for the sandwiches and the beer last night.”

They proceeded to the Tortilla Flats stagecoach stop and were greeted by Gus, who looked at Mac with disdain. Before John could make introductions, the old cowboy looked at Mac.

“You here just for Eastwick?”

“Nope,” Mac said, realizing Gus most likely thought he should have knocked Mac’s and Willa’s heads together. “I’ll be here until I have what’s mine.”

Gus snorted. “It’s about damn time. She’s still messin’ with those rustlers. Last month, one of them took a shot at her.”

“Somebody took a shot at Willa?” John asked. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me.”

“Ain’t US Marshall business, except maybe one specific US Marshall’s, and it seems he finally figured that out for himself. You college boys ain’t always too bright.”

Mac just smiled and said, “That’s a fine group of horses, Gus, but I think you brought more than we’ll need.”

Gus shook his head. “Like I said, not all that bright, and for all I know, they don’t even know which end of the horse they need to be facing. That pinto on the end, you could strap a newborn baby to the saddle, and the kid would be fine. Roscoe here, the big buckskin, can be a bit more to handle, but if you need speed and endurance, he’s the one you want to be sittin’ on. He has a warp-speed gear if you need it.”

“I’ve always wanted to play Marshal Dillon. Guess I’ll be riding Roscoe. You guys get ready to ride and check in here with Gus. He’ll assign you your mounts. Thanks for your assistance. If you talk to your boss, tell her I’d like to speak with her.” Mac handed him a business card. “She can reach me on my cell. And thanks for your assistance, especially so early in the morning.”

“You’ve been gone too long, Mac.” Gus laughed. “Six in the morning ain’t early for an old cowboy like me.” He turned to John. “Mandy wouldn’t have sent one of those breakfast burritos she makes for me, would she?”

“Now, Gus… has Mandy ever not looked after a friend?”

“She’s a good girl, your Mandy.”

“Most of the time,” John laughed.

Mac and John exchanged knowing smiles.

Mac walked over to the big buckskin gelding and untied him, then looped the lead rope around the horse’s neck and removed his halter before bridling him. He was impressed with how easily the big horse took the bit. Stowing the halter and lead in one of the saddlebags, he led him to the rear of the SUV and grabbed a rifle and scabbard, attaching the latter to the saddle and putting the rifle securely into it. He moved Roscoe away from the vehicle and mounted.

Turning, he watched as Gus helped the rest of his men get ready to ride. Most of them knew their way around a horse and were at least moderately experienced, but Mac had grown up a rancher’s son in Oklahoma. He couldn’t remember a time before he joined the Rangers when he hadn’t ridden every day. It was one of the few things he missed about not choosing a more settled life. Even within the US Marshal’s Service, he could have stayed in a field supervisor position like John. Being the head of the SOG meant he was never truly off the clock.

Mac retrieved his GPS unit and punched in the coordinates for the lone unaccounted-for campsite. He settled the unit in front of him behind the saddle horn and nudged Roscoe to move out. The other horses fell into line behind him.

“I just spoke to Thom,” John called. “We’ve had a couple of tips about people seeing Eastwick. Thom has them plotted.”

Mac reined in Roscoe. “Are they in the same area?”

“No, opposite ends of the wilderness area.”

“Have him send them to Baez and Taylor. You boys split up into teams of two, and I’ll take this outlier. Check in if you see anything or think the tip may be paying off or in two hours, whichever comes first.”

“Mac, you want me to take a horse and come with you?” John asked.

“Nah, you head to your office and head up the tech team there. I don’t have a lot of hope for this one, but I feel we have to at least cross it off the list.” Mac turned to his team. “All right, gentlemen, we have a fugitive to catch. Let’s go get this son of a bitch.”

They left John standing there as they split up and headed out. Simon Eastwick might have money and power, but he’d never been up against the US Marshals. The service was well known for being relentless about running down federal fugitives. Mac felt confident Eastwick would soon be apprehended.

J ohn watched them ride out, then drove to his office. He’d been worried about calling Mac and asking him to come back with the likelihood he and Willa might run into each other. Now, he chided himself for not figuring out a way to lure his old friend back sooner. He called Mandy and relayed Mac’s message about wanting to speak to Willa and his thanks for the sandwiches.

Mandy laughed. “He needs his own woman to cook and care for him.”

“If he can find someone half as wonderful as you, he’ll be a lucky man. By the way, Gus said thanks for the burrito and reminded me you’re a good girl.”

“Not always.” She laughed in the deep husky way that John loved. “But I married a man who knows how to handle me when I’m not.”

John’s cock responded to her teasing. “Yes, you did.” He closed the door to his office to ensure no one could overhear him. “And you have the perfect ass for his loving discipline.”

“Sure you can’t come home for a couple of hours?”

“Don’t you tempt me, little girl. You know there’s nothing I’d like better than to crawl into bed with you and take up residence between your pretty legs.”

Mandy giggled again. “I love you. Be safe.”

“I will. I’m going to be in the office. Love you, too.”

Mandy was right. His buddy Mac had needed a woman ever since he and Willa split up. It was good to know Mac had finally figured out what John had known all along—the only woman Mac had ever needed was Willa. They had allowed her business and Mac’s promotion to come between them. Well, at least one of them had come to his senses. He’d never thought it would be Willa. He just hoped Mac made his stand here in Arizona. It would be fun to watch.

W illa woke and stretched as the sun crept over the horizon. Her bed wasn’t as comfortable as the one at home, but it wasn’t half bad. She laid still and listened but heard nothing out of the ordinary. All the horses were quiet, an indication nothing was amiss. Willa pulled on her clothes and boots, then stepped outside.

When he saw her, Gator nickered to her and let her know it was morning, she was up, and it was time for breakfast. She laughed and walked over to her corral.

“And good morning to you, too.” She took his head in her hands and kissed his muzzle. Normally, Gator loved to snuggle, but not at mealtimes. He was a very serious and focused boy when it came to food.

“All right, I hear you.”

She let him go and went to fix the horses’ breakfast. Once she had them settled and eating, she grabbed a couple of buckets and began the task of filling their water trough, then walked to the edge of her camp where she had an excellent view of the rest of the canyon. It appeared the stallion and his herd had also had a good night.

Some of the mustangs were up and grazing, others were still snoozing, and the stallion kept watch over them all as he foraged as well. He looked up to see her, but as she wasn’t close enough to be a threat to his mares and foals, so he merely tossed his head in a vague warning to keep her distance, then continued to graze.

Willa smiled and returned to her camp. She stoked the embers of her fire and went into her tent to retrieve her food supplies, then she set out the ingredients for a hearty omelet next to the campfire. Never a coffee drinker, Willa brought only bottles of water to drink.

Hunkered down over her cast-iron skillet, she heard a twig snap behind her. Slowly and quietly, she reached for the knife she had used to prepare her ingredients.

“That’s far enough, Ms. Reynolds. How fortunate for me you are once again stealing mustangs.”

Willa froze, recognizing Simon Eastwick’s voice. Although he had yet to be tried or convicted, Willa didn’t doubt for a moment he’d killed his wife, Evie. The area around the Apache Trail was lightly populated, and the horse community even smaller. While she and Evie hadn’t been close friends, they’d been friendly, and Willa had always wondered why a nice woman like Evie stayed married to a prick like Simon.

Simon was a real estate developer who did some of his business in Scottsdale but also had projects in Phoenix, Chandler, and Mesa. He lived in the affluent city of Scottsdale, while Willa lived outside the city limits of Mesa, which was less than a half an hour away.

She stood slowly and turned to confront him. He had a rifle trained on her as he tied off his horse, who had a packhorse dallied to the saddle horn.

“To say I’m surprised to see you, Eastwick, would be putting it mildly.”

“I hadn’t expected to see you, either, but I have a cold camp not far from here and saw your fire last night. I didn’t know this canyon was here. Good hiding place.”

“Not for the likes of you. There’s no air-conditioning, no servants, and no police to lock your sorry ass up for killing Evie.”

“That’s a bit judgmental, don’t you think?” Simon drawled. “After all, I haven’t even been tried yet, much less convicted.”

Willa looked past him to his riding horse and the packhorse he had with him.

“Doesn’t look like you’re planning to wait around to see how that plays out.”

“Your omelet is done. Be a good girl and get it out of the pan before it burns.”

Willa pulled the skillet off the fire, then slid the omelet onto the plate.

“Now put the plate down and very gently use your foot to slide it toward me, then move away from it and have a seat on that rock. Be sure to put the fork on the plate.”

She did as he asked, making no sudden moves. It had occurred to Willa, as he was on the run, he wasn’t going to want any witnesses—at least not any he left alive. She watched as Simon retrieved the plate and set it on the folding table she’d brought with her. He began to eat with one hand while keeping the gun trained on her with the other.

“Oh, don’t worry, Willa—do you mind if I call you Willa? Doesn’t matter, I’m going to, anyway.” He chuckled at his own perceived cleverness. “I’m not going to kill you. You know this country like the back of your hand, and while I could cross the border by continuing to head south, I’m sure you can find a safer way for me to do that.”

“Safer, how? Wilderness is wilderness. It’s all about the same.”

“Yes, but you know places like this and ways we can minimize the chances of me being caught. Besides, you’re rather good at this whole camping thing, and you’re not a bad cook.”

“I’m a trained chef, you ass. And why would I take you to Mexico? You’re not going to want to leave me alive, so either you kill me here, or you kill me there.”

“Could be, although I think you’d fetch a fair price south of the border. You’re a bit older than they like and not a virgin, but you have a nice tight little figure under those jeans and t-shirt. I might even make use of you on our journey together. It’s been a while since I’ve had a decent blow job or been able to fuck a nice cunt. Do you have a nice cunt, Willa?”

“I’ve never had any complaints. But again, why would I cooperate? I can’t see any way this ends well for me.”

“That’s not necessarily true. Depending on your abilities and if you make my trip easy, I might be persuaded to let you go once we’re in Mexico, but even if I’m not planning that… isn’t it better to stay alive for now, go along, then try to escape when you have better odds?” Simon smirked. “What? You didn’t think I’d know that’s what you were planning? We need to leave. Start breaking down your camp and getting your horses ready. Keep in mind, I can do this on my own. You’re merely a convenience, so I won’t hesitate to kill you, too.”

“So, you’re admitting you killed Evie?”

“Sure, why not? She didn’t have a nice cunt anymore and threatened to take at least fifty percent of all we had if I divorced her. I couldn’t let her do that.”

Willa moved forward to put out the fire.

“On second thought,” Simon said lasciviously. “Why don’t you take off your T-shirt and bra. I’d like to see those titties bounce while you’re working.”

He’d been right. Willa had come to the conclusion her best play was to do as he asked—go along, then look for the right opening. Like Simon, she would have no compunction about killing if the need arose. She merely needed to wait for the best moment to strike.

Willa stepped away from the fire and slowly, tantalizingly removed her clothing. If she could keep him focused on her tits, he might give her that opening sooner rather than later.

Willa liked her figure. She’d never resembled a model, but she was tall, her curves were in all the right places, and seemed to attract more than enough attention. As she removed her T-shirt and her bra, she could swear Simon had to keep from licking his lips. Willa steeled herself. She would do whatever she needed to ensure she came out of this alive, and Simon paid for killing Evie.