“Depends on what part of the pig you’re used to eating.” Rodriguez laughed at the shock on her face. “Easy, Jones. I’m messing with you.”
“I’m never trusting you again.” She sniffed, dumping the chips back in the bag.
“Please. Like you trusted me before?” Before she could craft a response, he shook his head and looked out the window. “It’s okay. I’ve heard the rumors.”
“So are they true?”
“Which ones?”
“That you ratted out your last partner,” Kelly said. “Let’s start with that one.”
He shook his head, turning back to the bag.
“C’mon, I’m sure there’s plenty of gossip about me,” Kelly said, tapping his elbow.
“You bet there is.”
Kelly wasn’t expecting such a strong response. Now in spite of herself, she was curious. “If you want me to trust you, I need to know the truth.”
“Is it so hard to believe I did a great job on my last case, and the promotion was based on that?” Rodriguez grumbled.
“You’re twenty-seven years old,” Kelly noted. “You’d have to find Jimmy Hoffa for that kind of bump at your age.”
“Maybe I did.”
Kelly raised an eyebrow. He glared back at her, then shrugged. “Fine. I ratted someone out, but it wasn’t my partner.”
“Who?”
“My boss. He buried some evidence on a case. I found out, told his SAC. Long story short, the FBI couldn’t afford another black eye. He took early retirement, I was given my pick of divisions.”
“Huh.” It made sense, Kelly thought. Last thing the Bureau needed was a high profile officer dragged through the mud. And they’d definitely do whatever it took to keep Rodriguez happy. After working there for more than a decade, she recognized that the FBI could be every bit as dirty and political as a major corporation. Still, she tried to do the best job she could. Sometimes she even felt like justice had been served. Less and less lately, but sometimes. “Okay.”
“Anything else?” Rodriguez asked, jutting his chin out.
She ignored his confrontational tone. “Are you a hermaphrodite?”
“What? They’re not saying that.”
Kelly laughed at his expression. “No, but it’s a good one. Want me to start it?”
“I can promise if you did, my fiancee would hunt you down. And she’s scary, trust me. Those boys in the bar wouldn’t have stood a chance against her.”
“I was surprised to hear you were engaged,” Kelly said.
“What, I’m not a catch?” He grinned.
“You’re so young to be getting married.”
Rodriguez looked bemused. “Tell my mother that. She’s been on me to get hitched since high school. You’re engaged, too, right?”
“Sort of,” Kelly mumbled.
“Have you sort of set a date?”
“Not yet. We’re working out some…technicalities,” Kelly said, wishing he’d change the subject.
“Don’t wait too long, we had to sign up for the ballroom a year in advance. Me, I can’t wait. August 31, back in L.A. It’s gonna be off the hook. You and Jake should come.”
Rodriguez sounded excited, and Kelly guessed that “off the hook” was a good thing. She shifted in her seat. “So what are they saying about me?”
“Ah, I was just trying to get under your skin, chica.” Rodriguez turned his attention back to the chips.
Kelly was about to respond when a familiar pickup appeared, rising and falling with the ruts in the road. It pulled into the lot in front of the warehouse.
Rodriguez elbowed her. “You were right.”
“Damn straight I was. And you’re out fifty dollars.” She glanced at her watch: 11:59 a.m., right under the wire.
“How do you want to handle this?”
“Neither of them was carrying before, but that doesn’t mean anything. I say we get them away from the truck, where they might have a shotgun. We know there aren’t any weapons in the front of the warehouse. So after they go inside, we hit them hard and fast.”
“Sounds good, boss.” Rodriguez nodded.
Kelly looked him over. “You sure you’re up for this?”
“I don’t feel as bad as I look. Which is rare, usually it’s the other way around.”
Kelly decided they’d have to chance it. Jethro, the taller cowboy, was headed toward the door, Jim fast on his heels. “Let’s go, quick and quiet. I don’t want them barricading themselves inside with hostages.”
Kelly got out of the car and bent double, staying low to the ground. She crossed the parking lot in front of the warehouse with long strides, gun drawn. As she got closer she overheard snippets of conversation, something about the Rangers’ chances this season. Jethro was sorting through a key ring. Their backs were still to her. The sand muffled her footsteps and she steered clear of the gravel patches dotting the lot.
The door opened and Jethro stepped inside. Kelly waited until Jim had followed, then bolted up the stairs, catching the door as it was about to close. She glanced over her shoulder. Rodriguez was right behind her, eyes wide with exhilaration. She nodded at him, jerked open the door and slipped inside.
The cowboys sensed them and spun. Jethro darted a hand toward his belt and Kelly yelled, “FBI! Hands where I can see them!”
Jethro’s hand stalled its descent. She could see him deliberating, and took three quick strides forward with the muzzle leveled at his chest. “I’d prefer to have you alive,” she said, “but it’s your choice.”
His brother Jim already had his hands in the air. Jethro glanced at him, then slowly followed suit.
“On the ground, nice and slow,” Kelly said.
“This is bullshit,” Jim spat. “We ain’t done nothin’ wrong.”
“Shush, Jim,” Jethro said warningly.
“You kidding? Doesn’t even matter, bitch. No one in this town is gonna charge us. You seriously think Luke’ll put us behind bars? Hell, the folks around here think we deserve a medal, and they don’t know the half of…”
“I said shut the fuck up!” Jethro growled.
“I’m not calling your buddy Rowe,” Kelly said, digging a knee into Jethro’s back as she fastened handcuffs around his wrists. “What we’ve got here is a federal violation.”
“Fuck you,” Jim said, kicking his legs at Rodriguez, who was bending to cuff him. “I don’t want you touching me.”
Kelly and Rodriguez exchanged a glance.
“Don’t make me add assaulting a federal officer, that’s another twenty-five years,” Kelly said.
Rodriguez settled into a squat, hands clasped in front of him. “So, boys. How long you been coyotes?”
Jim snorted. “We’re not fucking coyotes, you stupid spic.”
Jethro snapped out his leg, kicking him hard in the shin. Jim yelped, then fell silent.
“Your brother has a lot to say,” Rodriguez remarked. Kelly heard the undercurrent in his voice and knew the slur had gotten to him. “How ’bout you? You think I’m a dirty wetback?”
“Jethro Henderson. Colonel. TX- 47928878.”
“What?” Kelly asked, puzzled.
“Jethro Henderson. Colonel. TX- 47928878.”
His brother started chanting as well, changing name, rank and number, speaking with a slight lisp. Kelly and Rodriguez exchanged a look.
“Deja vu, huh, Jones?” he said.
Jake clicked open his phone as he walked to the cafe on the corner. It was blazing hot outside, well over a hundred degrees. Hard to believe it was already July. He’d expected them to be married by now, and maybe even
