Page 19 of Tripp

“You know, I’ve never had a FUBAR case before. Over two years, it’s been easy enough. Straight to the point, in and out. And this one…” I used my hands to mimic an explosion.

“Trust me when I tell you, we all have at least one. My last one, my guys and I watched a number of people be shot. Cars wrecked. It was a cluster fuck of epic proportions. It happens.”

Heading inside, I knew this was going to be a long afternoon. There was so much to go over.

I was right. A little over two hours had passed since coming in, and I was mentally exhausted. Drained. Just done for.

“I swear, I’m regretting taking this case so much.”

“I’m sure you are, but I’m not. I get to kick some ass now.”

A blonde woman walked in. She had on leather pants, a black tank top, and was all smiles.

“Stella, you’re as violent as ever,” Phoenix chuckled, coming in behind her.

“Pops, Casey, got some news.”

“What?” I sat up, scrubbing a hand over my face.

“I got a hit on two of the men you got pics of. Orson Cory and Jude Emerson.” He laid the pics out on the table. “They’re wanted for questioning on a robbery case in San Antonio. They’ve both got warrants for bail jumping in Dallas and?—”

“They’re wanted in three other states for similar charges.”

“We,” Phoenix started, “tracked them down to a house out off a rural road. They’ve got access to the National Park, so we have to play this right. If they get out into that, we could lose them.”

“What do we need to do?” the Sheriff asked, his arms resting on the table.

“Don’t get in my way,” Stella responded, grinning.

“You really are a scary woman.”

“Eh, I like being able to knock assholes off their high horses.” She shrugged. “Plus their rap sheets. They’re far from nice, decent men.”

“You could get hurt,” I said, sitting back in the chair.

“I could also get hit by a car crossing the street. Don’t worry, there’s a whole team of us. Trace and Chip will go in first; Phoenix, Tank, and I get to go in and play clean up.”

“I have the paperwork. We are a go for Cory and Emerson. This man…” Trace said, walking in and sliding a photo across the table. My hand went out as I got a look at it. “He’s the one pulling the strings. The house is in his name. He’s got a sheet as long as I am tall. According to what Derek found, he’s been out of jail for about five months. Looks like he’s up to his old ways.”

“Manny? What the fuck?”

“You know that man?”

I looked up, every eye was on me. My stomach churned as I watched Tripp’s features harden. He got to his feet, the chair pushing back to hit the wall.

“I’m going with you.”

“Uh, I don’t think so, hoss. You’re not licensed to work here.”

“No. Don’t.” I stood, leaning across the table to place my hand on his. “He’s not worth it.”

“I’m going. That bastard is mine.”

“Someone needs to tell me what’s happening here,” the Sheriff stated, standing.

I could feel the warm tears falling down my cheeks. If Tripp went after Manny, he’d—oh, I couldn’t even think about it.

“That piece of shit is the man that beat her, tortured her for years.”

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