Page 57 of The Undercover Cowboy

“And who knows, maybe the bureau could use a freelancer with your skills. Where’s your brick-and-mortar office?”

Good question.“We can talk about that tonight.” Nash hung up on him. He wasn’t sure how he felt about all of that. He didn’t want to owe Garrett anything, and he certainly didn’t want to beg for scraps from him. Nope. He wasn’t going to get his hopes up. He wasn’t going to be indebted to Miles. And he wasn’t ready to forgive him either. But it raised a good question. Where was he going to end up when all this was over?

If Shelby still had a rodeo when it all shook down, Nash supposed he could settle down here in Dallas where she had her headquarters. It had always been her and him against the worldanyways. He liked the idea of staying close to her and making sure she was safe from men like Blevins.

Bonus points that Dolly had an apartment in Dallas too, when she wasn’t on the road following the rodeos for her social media events. Even though they had been dancing around their attraction for the better part of a year, it was crazy to start thinking about the future after one passionate encounter. And yet, his thoughts kept drifting to her and the future they might share together, if she stopped lying to him.

Her phone went to voicemail, so Nash left her a message that he wouldn’t be available until after nine p.m. tonight for their date.

*

Nash gripped thesteering wheel of his Ford pickup, the leather beneath his fingers growing slick with the sweat of frustration. The endless stretch of Texas highway rolled out before him as he drove back to Dallas. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d been given the short end of the stick. The FBI had confiscated all the evidence he’d painstakingly collected against Jackson Blevins. In return, he’d been handed a grainy security camera photo of two burly men. Nash didn’t recognize them, and Miles said that Blevins—conveniently enough—claimed not to know them either.

At least Miles agreed to deploy the FBI’s resources to track down the offshore account connected to Jackson Blevins and work on the encrypted code from the invoice from Jaripeo Ranch he and Dolly had fished out of Blevins’s trash can. They said they had installed tracking software on Blevins and his secretary Debbi’s computers.

Nash doubted they would share anything that they found out with him, though.

Blevins would remain in the hospital for a few more days, which would give the FBI more time to work on the case and set up a sting at the Laredo rodeo. Not that Nash would be a part of that. It pissed him off. If he had still been in the bureau…but he wasn’t. He was a private eye, and he should feel lucky Miles was even giving him the time of day. Yeah, that stung like a bitch.

Nash knew he had to get over himself. Still, he couldn’t shake the sour taste of regret on his tongue. Walking away from his credentials had cost him access to resources. If someone had told him a few years ago that he’d be playing cowboy and sneaking around behind the FBI’s back, he’d have laughed in their face. But here he was forging deals with his old partner to help Shelby untangle this mess with Blevins.

It was worth it. Shelby hadn’t deserved a partner like Blevins. With him out of the picture, Nash knew she would make the rodeo thrive.

But if Nash was being fair, the meeting with Miles hadn’t been so bad. He had built him up as an evil villain in his life’s story, but the reality was Miles was a good agent. He generally wanted to do good, but his methods were what got him into trouble. He was an “ends justifies the means” type of guy and Nash just wasn’t wired that way.

It had been uncomfortable sitting in the meeting room with him and Hector as they exchanged information and realizing that Miles and Dolly would probably get along. Dolly was an “ends justifies the means” type as well.

While Nash would never be that casual about breaking the rules, he could see how tempting it would be in a situation like they were in right now. Which was why he had to double down and make sure everyone did this by the book, so there wasn’tany way in hell that Jackson Blevins could weasel himself out of anything this time.

Just as he was about to call Dolly and tell him his ETA, Nash’s phone buzzed. He glanced at the caller ID on the truck’s display. Dr. Victor Lance. That was interesting.

“Dr. Lance,” he said, “what can I do for you?”

“Mr. Weaver,” Lance replied, his voice trembling slightly, “I heard about Jackson Blevins being put in the hospital, and I think it’s finally safe for me to talk.”

Nash felt a spark of excitement, realizing he didn’t need to build a criminal case against Blevins. All he had to do was provide proof to Shelby that Blevins had been involved with illegal activity, and Lance’s information just might be the break he was looking for. He could do this without Miles. And wouldn’t that be gratifying as all get-out?

“I’m listening,” he said, keeping his tone neutral despite the adrenaline surging through his veins.

“I want immunity.”

“I’m not a lawyer. I can’t guarantee any specific outcome.”

“Okay.”

“You should talk to your lawyer.”

“I have. She agrees that coming clean about my dealings with Blevins is the best course of action. I want to meet with you tonight, before I lose my nerve.”

Tonight?

Shit, he was almost halfway back to Dallas. And to Dolly. Figured. “I can be at your motel in a few hours.”

“I’ll be here.”

He had been looking forward to spending the night with Dolly, but as much as he hated to admit it, the meeting with Lance had to take precedence.

“Call Dolly,” he told the voice-activated feature on his phone.

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