He faced me again, set his hands on his hips. “I had no choice. I wanted to keep you out of it, but you got involved with the law. The enemy.”
“Since when is the sheriff or DEA the enemy?” I asked.
“Since Hollaroy brought his shit to our property and I have to hide it.”
Oh, fuck. It was true. Hollaroy was involved. No, not involved. He was the one Theo was seeking. My dad was part of it.
“Why didn’t you tell him no?” I asked, my voice rising. “He has a huge ranch. If he’s making meth and distributing it, he could do it from—”
“No!” He began to pace. “He pulled me in. I had no choice. I have no choice.”
“Why? What did you do?”
He waved me off and continued. “Now you’re here, and he’s going to—”
“I’m going to what, Jenkins?” a voice rang out from down the hall.
Dad went pale, and I picked up the knife on the cutting board.
Mr. Hollaroy—I didn’t think of him by any other name—walked into the kitchen. He’d come in the back door without knocking, as if this were his ranch, not ours.
Dad cleared his throat. “Nothing.”
Hollaroy was bigger than my dad. While he was in his early sixties, he was still well over six feet tall. He was stocky, and had a beer gut that could sustain him as a reserve like a bear in hibernation.
I’d known him my whole life, but mostly in passing, seeing him at the diner or the county fair. I’d always found him to be a little intimidating, but now I was downright scared.
“Going to know about your daughter’s fling with the law?” He eyed me in a way that made my skin crawl. Like I wasn’t just a rancher friend’s daughter any longer, but a woman.
“It’s nothing. Rebellion. Just getting back at me,” my dad said. He was protecting me, and I was surprised.
“She’s fucking the law. Our enemy. They came here. They’re sniffing around,” Mr. Hollaroy said.
He had no idea that they had literally been sniffing around.
He waved his beefy hand in the air as he came around the counter, picked up a piece of chopped carrot and tossed it in his mouth. I stepped away.
“This works,” he said while chewing. “She can help us now. No one suspects a woman like her.”
I didn’t know what that meant exactly, but I wasn’t going to ask.
I was actually afraid of this guy. Of the situation. Of how easily he was in control. How he’d waltzed right into the house and eaten off my cutting board.
“What are you talking about?” I asked, frowning and trying to look confused. Sweat trickled down my back and I tried to keep my voice even.
“Your daddy told me Sheriff Cooke and the DEA came by.”
I flicked my gaze at my father, who looked like a bullied fifth grader in his own house.
I nodded. “They did, and he sent them on their way.”
“Yet you followed. What did they tell you about their investigation?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
“Right.” He drew the word out as if he didn’t believe me. “But you’re curious. Questioning. You’ll be useful.”
“No,” I said, without thinking.
He stared at me, then laughed. His jowls shifted as he did so. “You think you have a choice?”
“Alison,” Dad warned, but didn’t do anything else to protect me.
“Send a text to your boyfriend. Tell him to come here at ten.”
I blinked. “Wh—why?”
“Because while they may have slapped me with a fine for shooting those fucking wolves last summer, they’re not messing with my meth.”
“I’ll redirect them away from here,” I said, trying to think quickly of ways to keep Holt and Theo from whatever Hollaroy had planned.
“No can do, sugar. It’s time for a little payback, and you’re going to help. Get your phone, and text him.”
He didn’t say more, only arched a brow and gave me a pointed look.
I took a deep breath and pulled my cell from my back pocket.
“Tell him to come to the trailer. I’m sure you know about it. Ten o’clock. Nothing more,” he warned.
Hollaroy didn’t identify which guy he thought I was with, but since Theo was DEA and this was his investigation, I sent the text to him. My thumbs fumbled over the tiny letters, and I finally got it right.
“Show it to me.”
I held out the cell so he could see my message, which was exactly what he’d said. I wanted to tell Theo the text was a trap, or clue him in that Hollaroy was here. Or tell him that he shouldn’t actually come.
The ding signaled an immediate response. My heart leapt at the sight of his reply.
I told you to stay away from there.
I showed it to Hollaroy and he nodded, clearly satisfied. “He does know about the trailer. You mentioned it to him.”
I blushed, realizing I was caught.
Hollaroy shrugged, and pressed the button on the side of my phone to turn it off.
He rubbed his hands together. “Good. Remember, you and your daddy are expendable. The meth’s on your land. Nothing like the thought of taking out a lawman to make me hungry. What are you cooking us, woman, while we wait?”
13
THEO
“She’s going to get a real spanking this time,” I snapped, slamming my truck door shut and rounding the back.
“Get in line,” Holt added, settling his Stetson on his head.
The sun had set behind the mountains about an hour before, but the sky still had color. It was bleeding to dark quickly. With our shifter eyesight, we didn’t have to slow as we cut across the grassland from the service road.
When I’d received Ali’s text, I’d cracked the screen with frustration. She wanted us to meet her at the trailer? The trailer! After we’d told her not to go anywhere near the place? She’d promised. What in the hell was she up to?
“It might be her land, but she has no idea the kind of asshole Hollaroy is,” I added. My investigation had given me a solid look into him. Holt knew the fucker from the wolf shootings. Hollaroy might not have much of a rap sheet, but that was because he was cunning enough to get away with crimes. Like murder.
My wolf pushed me to move faster. I wanted to toss Ali over my shoulder, carry her off, and claim the shit out of her.
Holt only offered a grunt in reply. We’d spun this in so many circles since she’d called, trying to figure it out. When I’d texted back and she hadn’t responded…
Yeah, I moved a little faster. While she’d told us the new structure was near a pond—where she’d gone for a ride with Ariel—we hadn’t gotten more specifics than that. Hadn’t thought we’d need them.
Holt stuck out his arm to stop me. “Listen,” he whispered.
Breathing, voices. I looked toward where we suspected the trailer to be. We’d pulled up a map of the county, studied the property lines, the topography. Where the burned out cabin was, and the area that was left we hadn’t observed.
“She’s not alone.” His voice dropped even lower, barely audible.
I cocked my head, but couldn’t make out what was being said.