Page 17

Chapter Seventeen

K enna had the Merton Roadhouse up on her maps app so she could see photos and check it out before they got there. “This place?”

Ramon, driving the car, chuckled.

Through the speakers, which were connected to the call she was on, Special Agent Miller said, “We wanted somewhere out of the way for the meet.”

Tall pine trees flanked either side of the highway, a desolate road. Empty apart from Ramon’s pickup and Miller in his car ahead of them. Who knew where Bruce was, but the guy should be out here with them in his own car.

This was the kind of dense forest that hid shadows, and in the dark of night like this, she almost imagined glowing eyes staring back at her from the trees. They were headed to a roadhouse to set a trap to catch Roxanne via Miller, with Ramon and Kenna going in as a casual couple.

They’d opted to leave out the detectives, who had other jurisdictional cases to investigate, and instead had come out here themselves to take care of this issue. “How did you meet Roxanne?”

Through the speakers, Miller said, “I was working a case on this company that was laundering money for an art forger. I pulled her in for questioning, and we clicked, but it didn’t amount to anything on the investigation.”

Ramon glanced over at Kenna but said nothing.

“When the case was past that stage, I called her up and asked her out. It was hot and heavy at the start. It became a regular thing.” Miller paused. “She’s really one of these assets for this ‘company’ y’all are investigating?”

“Yes.” Kenna figured she’d be straight about it. “She was going to abduct one of my team members. It didn’t go as planned, so she ran off.”

Miller didn’t comment on that.

Kenna said, “Maybe she genuinely likes you. She’s interested, she’s falling for you, so she kept the truth of who she is out of it. That way, she can have something nice that won’t get messed up by who she is.”

Miller said, “You really think that?”

Ramon shook his head, staying silent.

“I guess we should ask her.” Kenna closed the maps app. “We’re almost there.”

“See you on the flip side.” Miller ended the call, and in a half mile, Ramon slowed for the corner. After the bend, the roadside widened. The trees moved back from the shoulder to make way for a river on the west side, and on the east, a parking lot and a squat structure with a wood shake roof that was lit up with neon signs.

“Parking lot is pretty full.” Ramon slowed but didn’t indicate he’d turn in. “That’s a lot of motorcycles.”

Trucks and cars also lined the lot.

Miller had turned into the other end of the parking area, so they went the opposite way. Better to make it look like they had nothing to do with each other.

“Now we know why he switched his FBI clothes for jeans, boots, and a leather jacket over his T-shirt.” Kenna frowned. “Maybe he was undercover, and he liked it, and that’s why he turned from a pencil-pushing, uptight city guy into some backcountry, roadhouse guy out for a beer and to meet his lady.”

Ramon chuckled. “I can’t imagine her here either. You think she wears a tiny leather skirt and a torn rock band T-shirt.”

“Okay, that’s a weird image. Have you been thinking about it much?”

He shoved her arm, and they both laughed. Kenna got out of the car. “I have to admit, there isn’t much that smells better than the air in the mountains.”

“Beer, exhaust, and puke?”

“Pine trees. Fresh mountain air.”

“Right.” Ramon slung an arm around her shoulder. “If you’re gonna leave that ring on your finger, we should act like a couple. Otherwise, you’re gonna get propositioned by every biker in there.”

“Because I’m irresistible? They’ll be falling over themselves to snatch me up.” Kenna chuckled.

“I’ll make it clear you’re an acquired taste. More trouble than you’re worth. I’m doing the world a favor keeping you off the market.”

“You should tell Jax that. He can add it to his wedding vows.”

Ramon pulled the front door of the roadhouse open while laughing out loud. It set the tone nicely, and they entered grinning at each other as if they had a shared secret—something that would sell them as being in a relationship.

The place was packed, wall-to-wall bodies but concentrated on the right with rows of pool tables all lined up. Opposite the front door, the bar stretched across at least twenty feet in width. Two bartenders manned the counter, and they seemed to be male identical twins.

Ramon pretty much dragged her—given his arm around her neck—to the corner, where they settled at a small round table in a sea of tables. She clocked the two bartenders, one with long dark hair tied back and the other with his head shaved. Both had sleeves of tattoos and distinctive clothing styles. The long-haired twin had a white shirt and black vest, and the shaved-head one had a tight T-shirt on.

A blond woman who was barely drinking age came over with a notepad. “What can I get you folks?”

Ramon ordered two beers and a basket of fries.

Kenna had to explain her glancing around so much, so she said, “This place is great. Is it always this busy?”

The blonde cocked her hip. “Best fries west of Nebraska.”

Kenna grinned, and they shared a smile.

The waitress said, “I’ll be back.”

“Thanks.” Kenna held up her phone and took a few pictures like a tourist or someone who had to update their social media every time they breathed. In reality, the pictures would go to Maizie as soon as she took them, uploading to their shared folder so Maizie could see everyone present in the room. She and Stairns, back at the campsite, would be able to run some of the faces and see who might be a threat. Or an asset.

The waitress delivered their drinks and food. By the time Kenna was done with her scan and had found Miller over at one end of the bar parked on a stool, Ramon had finished half his beer.

She switched his bottle for hers, so it looked like she was drinking, and took three fries from the basket. Hot. Greasy. “Okay, she was right about the fries. Maybe they’re the reason Roxanne wanted to be here.”

Ramon took another swig, looking around.

“See her yet?” Her back was to the room, so no doubt he’d see Roxanne come in before she did.

“She just walked in.”

Kenna shifted in her chair but caught herself.

“Whoa.” Ramon put his hand over hers.

She held on for an anchor, leaning on her partner in the way she was supposed to. Making their relationship sell to the people around them and keeping it platonic between them. Not that she had ever had feelings for Ramon, and if he’d had any for her, then he’d kept them to himself.

When was Jax coming up here, anyway?

“You good?”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine. What’s she doing?”

“Doesn’t matter. She tried to take Maizie. She’s not going anywhere until she answers for that.”

“Good. Then we’re on the same page.” Kenna squeezed his hand, then pulled hers back. “She doesn’t leave.”

“She approached Miller.”

Kenna shifted again, bringing the half-drunk bottle of beer with her. “Good. Let’s go.”

“You gonna keep saying ‘good’?”

“If I want.” She grabbed another one of the fries and stuck it in her mouth. “Let’s see if there’s an open pool table. After we say hi to our friends we’re about to bump into.”

Ramon’s expression no longer had any affection in it. He was a predator with prey in his sights and zero intention of letting that prey get away.

Kenna threaded through the tables, Ramon right behind her, heading toward the pool tables. She glanced at the guy at the bar. “Miller!” She tried not to be too loud, but she needed Roxanne to see her.

On the stool at the bar, Miller lowered his bottle from his mouth where he’d been about to take a drink. He set the bottle down and slid his hand to his hip, keeping it there, out of sight. “Hey, Kenna!”

Roxanne stood beside him. She stiffened and turned to Kenna and Ramon, a calculated expression on her face. Her eyes dark. Her makeup heavy. Roadhouse Roxanne wasn’t impressed.

“Gotcha.” Kenna couldn’t resist saying it. She stood a few feet away from Roxanne with Ramon by her left shoulder. “You’re coming with us. It’s best to do it quietly, with no fuss.”

“I’m being arrested?” Roxanne glanced at Miller, then back at them. “You really think that’ll stick when you have no warrant, no charges, no evidence, and no reason to take me anywhere.”

She spoke with an American accent, a decent one. Not much trace of the British accent Kenna had heard her speak with so far.

Ramon said, “You ran from the car with Maizie in it.”

“She’s the one who crashed. I was scared for my life.” Roxanne played innocent.

Kenna shook her head, not buying it for a second. It was clear she’d thought this through, working out ahead of time what her defense was going to be. “We aren’t going around and around on this. Let’s go.” Her voice cracked on the last word, and she cleared her throat, which was suddenly starting to feel thick. “We don’t need to make a scene—” Her voice quit, and she swallowed, sucking in air.

“You okay, Kenna?” Ramon shifted beside her.

“Not sure.”

Roxanne’s expression changed to one of immense satisfaction.

Miller slid off the stool. “What’s going on?”

All around them, people started coughing. Doubled over, sputtering, and trying to breathe. Kenna watched them, trying not to panic. She slid her phone out and called 911, but she couldn’t say anything. They could use all the help they could get with this, so having every emergency department respond wouldn’t be a bad thing.

Roxanne glanced at Miller. “You always have the fries.”

But not today? That was the implication of her words—that and the fact this was happening to those who had eaten the fries. Like Kenna.

Miller said, “I didn’t have the stomach for food. When I knew this was coming?” He looked around. “What did you do to these people?”

Kenna cleared her throat. It didn’t alleviate the feeling that something was lodged there. She sucked in a long breath, keeping it easy. Getting as much air as she could. Freaking out wasn’t going to help anything.

“You’re going with them,” Miller said. “Because I can’t even look at you. I guess I’ll be here cleaning up this mess.”

“Yes, well,” Roxanne said, her accent back to British. Evidently, she didn’t feel the need to keep up the ruse now. “When you never see me again, perhaps you could ask these two where they’ve buried me. Leave some kind of marker so people can pay their respects.”

Kenna’s head swam. She needed more air than she was getting. She strode to the bartender and motioned for a drink. He gave her a bottled water, opening the cap for her.

Kenna handed over her phone, already connected to 911. He took the phone and spoke to the dispatcher.

The water had better help. She couldn’t think of anything else and didn’t want to have a tube shoved down her throat. She hadn’t eaten that many fries. Surely, it wasn’t as bad as it could have been otherwise. Not like some of the people in here. As she drank, she took in the whole roadhouse and the carnage from…it had to be poison.

Whatever Roxanne had introduced into the fries was causing people to collapse because they were unable to breathe.

“You’re murdering a room full of people,” Miller said, standing close to Roxanne.

She hadn’t moved, surveying her handiwork. Satisfied with herself.

“And for what?”

Roxanne turned to him, but only a fraction. “Because I can. Because my job is to slow you all down as much as possible.”

Ramon shifted, threat in every line of his body. He was going for his gun.

As he drew it out, Roxanne moved fast. Her arm flung out, and she tossed something at him.

She ran in front of Kenna toward a side door.

Ramon stiffened, his body jerking as a pocketknife embedded in his chest. Kenna dropped the bottle and went to him.

Miller sprinted after Roxanne. “I’ve got her.”

Kenna grabbed Ramon’s waist. The handle of the knife was at least three inches. It wasn’t long enough to be deep, but still… “You’ve been stabbed.”

He muttered something that didn’t sound good.

“You really do need to fix that language issue you have.” But he didn’t live by her tenets, so she wasn’t supposed to force him to an ideal she’d chosen, which he didn’t believe in. No one needed to be hit over the head with rules when they were missing the heart change that came with embracing the God who loved them.

Ramon spoke through gritted teeth. “Why are you crying?”

“I feel weird.” But the water must have helped since her throat was letting out just enough air for her to speak. She looked at the knife. “We should take that out. It’s hurting you.”

“It’ll hurt worse if you take it out.” He led her to a stool. “Sit.”

“I need my phone.” She twisted to the bartender. “We need…stuff. Things. For the…” She waved her hand.

He held out her phone. “Cops and ambulance are on the way. I’ll get the first aid kit for your boy here.”

“Thanks.” She had to brace herself on Ramon’s shoulder, or she was going to fall over.

“Keep holding on.”

“You’ve been stabbed. I should be helping you.”

“Partners, remember? We help each other.” He looked a little sad.

The same way she felt sad that he didn’t know Jesus like she did. How was she supposed to tell him? She’d tried, but he always shut her down. She wanted to respect his wishes and not put a wedge between them, not make him feel as if he was letting her down—or not living up to her standard.

“Partners.”

“Until Jax shows up and I don’t exist.”

“As if I’d forget about you.” She touched her hands to his cheeks, but one had the phone in it, so he ended up with her phone to his ear.

He said, “Copy that. Tell them to hurry.”

She stared into those dark eyes. “You’ve seen the worst the world has to offer. You have every right to be angry and want revenge on everyone who wronged you. But you’re here, helping me keep Maizie safe. Working cases.”

“I lived in the darkness until you found me. Now, it’s time to live in the light.”

He was working his way back.

She had no doubt then that, eventually, he’d see faith the way she did. “Lots of people don’t think what I do is in the light. All we see is death and destruction.”

“Bringing light to the darkness. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to be doing?”

“We’re supposed to be catching that woman.” Except she couldn’t breathe all the way, and people around them might be dying. “We need to help them.”

“Here.” The long haired bartender stood on their side of the counter and set a kit down. “Gauze? Until the paramedics arrive?”

“I don’t need help,” Ramon said. “What’s your name?”

“Cliff.” The bartender pulled on rubber gloves. “Sure, you don’t need help. That’s why you’ve got a knife in you.”

“Gauze, Cliff,” was all Ramon said.

The bartender pulled a packet open and held out a square.

Ramon whipped his hand up and slid out the knife, doing a good job of keeping it straight on the way out. He let out a breath, grabbed the gauze, and pressed it against the wound. “Thanks.” He looked at her. “Give me your hand.”

He placed it over the gauze. “Lean. I need pressure on it.”

“One day, a woman is going to fall hopelessly in love with you, and I’ll be there to say ‘I told you so.’”

Ramon grinned, lines of stress around his eyes. “We’ll see.”

Cliff grunted. “Figured you guys were together.”

“We’re friends. Partners. Siblings. All of it.” They’d pretended to be a couple for the purposes of bringing down Roxanne. They needed to know if Miller had caught her. Hopefully, Bruce was outside helping with that. The people around them needed medical help, but she could hear sirens in the distance.

Ramon’s lips curled up slightly. “What she said. Family you don’t know you need, then you realize you can’t live without it.”

“Why?” Kenna looked at Cliff, her mind connecting random pieces of this puzzle of a case and coming up with an odd conclusion that was probably nothing. Unless it was something. “You know anything about couples and motel rooms?”

Cliff frowned. “What?”

“Tell me.” She shifted so she wasn’t leaning so close to Ramon, kept pressure on the wound, and cleared her throat, looking at Cliff. “Maybe you tell couples who come in what motel they should stay at that you recommend, and when they’re picked up, you get a cut of it.”

Ramon flinched. “Seriously?”

“It’s just a text.” Cliff moved away slightly.

Ramon grabbed him, swinging the guy between them so that his forehead slammed into the bar. Thankfully, she’d backed up in time, or she’d have been caught in the crossfire. As it was, he slammed into her forearm, and Kenna had to let go of the gauze, crying out.

“Hey!” The other twin jumped over the bar, swearing at them and rushing over, ready to fight.

That was when things got interesting.