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An ex-Marine himself, Dayle Mackay was one hard-bitten son of
a bitch. If ever a man deserved a bullet, then it was Dayle.
“Figured you’d show up eventually. ” Zeke sighed when Natches didn’t speak. “I wasn’t able to get any info, if that’s what you want to know. ”
“Why is she here?”
“Follow-up is what I was told. ” Zeke shrugged; he didn’t believe that one either. “They’re still missing the million. I guess the government has to line their coffers somewhere, huh?”
He tipped his hat back and stared up at the setting sun as Natches stood still and silent. What the hell was he thinking behind those glasses? Reading Natches Mackay was like trying to read ancient script. Pretty much impossible.
“Who is she questioning tomorrow?”
Zeke shook his head. “Hell if I know. Said she’d give me the names when we meet up in the morning. I couldn’t get shit out of her. ”
She was as closemouthed as Natches was, and almost as wary. But where the man was stone-cold and silent, Zeke had seen nervousness in the agent. She had known from second to second exactly where Natches was behind them, when he would round a curve, or where he would park. That little girl had been so attuned to the killer shadowing them that Zeke had been amazed.
“Would you tell me if you had?” Natches asked him then, his big body shifting dangerously as he pinned Zeke with that shielded gaze.
“In this case, yeah, I’d tell you. ” He nodded. “Because I want an end to this as well, Natches. What went down last year has ripped through this town like a plague. Homegrown fucking terrorists? God help us all. People are scared to trust their neighbors here now. And that bothers me. That bothers me real bad. ”
Pulaski County was his home, his county, his watch and his responsibility. It was one he took seriously, and until last year, he had thought he was doing a damned fine job at keeping out the worst of the evil the world had to offer.
Terrorists. Son of a bitch. It was bad enough when the bastards were foreign, almost fucking conceivable. But homegrown? A man you’d known all your life?
He and Johnny Grace hadn’t been friends, but if anyone had asked him if the boy could kill, he would have given an emphatic no. And he would have been wrong. If anyone had told him Johnny had been conspiring to steal and sell missiles that would be used against his own nation, Zeke would have denied it to the last line.
Johnny had been strange. He’d been a little off in left field sometimes, but Zeke had never imagined what his smile hid.
“She’s after more than the money. ” Zeke breathed out heavily at that thought. “There’s something more important here than that. ”
“Like?”
“Like hell if I fucking know,” Zeke cursed. “You Mackays tell me what the fuck is going on after it’s done the hell over with. ” He flicked Natches a glowering look. “If you had been honest with me from the beginning, we wouldn’t be standing here now, would we, damn it?”
“That or we’d be standing over your grave. ” Natches shrugged. “We were almost standing over Dawg’s and Crista’s. I didn’t like that, Zeke. ”
The understatement was almost laughable. When Johnny Grace had taken Dawg’s lover and tried to kill her, he had signed his death warrant with Natches.
There was nothing Natches cared for outside Rowdy, Dawg, and Rowdy’s dad, Ray Mackay. Unless it was his sister, Janey. Zeke had never figured out for sure if he gave a shit about the girl or not, but he knew he’d hate to test that boundary. Natches might act like she didn’t exist, but Zeke was betting the other man kept very close tabs on the girl.
“What are you going to do here, Natches?” he finally asked. “Don’t get between me and the law, man. I’d hate to have to butt heads with you. But I will. ”
Natches’s lips quirked humorously. “I’ll stay out of your law, and you stay out of my way. Other than that, I don’t know what the hell to tell you. ”
Frustration gnawed at Zeke then. He really didn’t need this. Natches was, Zeke often thought, the most dangerous man he knew. He wasn’t given to strong temperament, he didn’t hold grudges. But Zeke had a feeling that spilling blood didn’t bother him overmuch either.
“We don’t need another killing like last summer, Natches,” he warned him. “You didn’t have to kill Johnny. You could have wounded him and left enough to question. Then we wouldn’t have these folks running around now. ”
Natches didn’t stiffen. There was nothing in his demeanor to indicate a change in mood. But the air around them seemed to crackle with tension and rage.
“Killing him was better than sex. ” Natches’s smile was cold enough, hard enough, that Zeke wondered if he should feel an edge of fear. There was something completely unaffected in that smile.
“Better than sex with Agent Dane?” Zeke had a feeling he had just taken his life in his hands with that question.
Natches stared back at him, his expression closed. Tight. For a moment, Zeke thought he would speak, thought something would finally pass by that tightly shielded expression of his. Instead, Natches turned away, jumped back into the jeep, and shoved it into gear before pulling away with careful restraint.
Zeke slowly let out his breath, unaware that he had been holding it after asking that last question. And he had no idea which way the answer would have gone.
