Page 112 of Lone Star

The crack of the shot echoed in the vast space.

Tenny shuddered, and fell back a step, as the round caught him in the chest – in the Kevlar vest he wore beneath his hoodie. It would bruise, and it would hurt, later, but the gun was a nine-millimeter, and it hadn’t penetrated.

The second shot never sounded, because Reese reached the man, and clubbed him over the back of the head with his own gun.

“You could have just killed him,” Tenny said, watching him drop, massaging his chest where he’d been hit. “The whole house will have heard that.”

He heard door slamming, shouting, and the pounding of feet up on the balcony.

Reese shot Ten a fast glare, before they were set upon. “You weren’t supposed to engage anyone unless absolutely necessary.”

He shrugged – and then winced. “I got bored.”

~*~

The garage was empty – of people. But full of wooden shipping crates, neatly stacked on pallets, bound with plastic tarps, all ready for transport. By the time Fox had cleared the space – and it was massive, with room for four cars and a whole wall of cabinets and storage space – Eden had pulled back a tarp and was examining the lid of one crate in her flashlight’s beam, frowning to herself.

Fox plucked a crowbar off the wall and joined her. “Here. Let me.”

“Ooh, how chivalrous.”

He grinned. “Can it, you.”

She chuckled.

Holy shit, they were havingfun.

Fox knew the urge to laugh – that scarce tickling in his chest that never accompanied the sort of laughter he used for effect around the clubhouse. A giddiness.

Right here, right now, the shadow of Devin Green was very small and far away, and he was being useful, employing all the skills that were his own – his, and no one else’s, because he’d earned them, learned them, perfected them. He was the him who Eden had fallen for years ago, and then again only months ago, and he didn’t feel even a little restless, not at all.

The wood was new, and so were the nails that had been used to secure the lids; it was only the work of a moment, and pressure in the right place, to pry them out with the crowbar. The lid came off with a few quiet shrieks of clean metal, and then Eden pawed away the packing straw and let out a low whistle. Cocaine, bricks and bricks of it.

“They’re not even trying to dress it up like something else,” Eden whispered.

“They’re cocky,” Fox said. “They…no, they’re confident. You’d have to be the stupidest criminal alive to be this cocky. They know it won’t be a problem.” He frowned, considering, and pulled out one of the topmost bricks. The question is, why?”

“Nothing about this whole case makes any sense,” Eden groused. She pulled out her phone and started snapping pics.

Fox opened the brick with one of his knives, and rubbed a bit on his gums. In the past, the Chupacabra product being moved through Texas had been cut with everything from baking powder to confectioner’s sugar, but this was the good shit. He used his knife to scrape some into a baggie he’d brought for the purpose, and then replaced it, the straw, the lid, and tarp.

The flash on Eden’s phone continued to go off as she moved through the garage, snapping photo after photo.

“So,” Fox said, stepping back from the crates, surveying the rest of the spotless floor. It didn’t look like a car had ever been parked here, though that might have been owed to the epoxy and sealant. He’d never understand the trouble rich people went to in order to beautify even the most necessary and unbeautiful of spaces. “The cartel trucks the coke up from Mexico, stores it here, and then hires out private trucking companies to take it deeper into the country.”

“According to what we’ve found so far.”

“Gilliard’s in on it,” Fox said, and knew it in his gut.

“Or his place is just convenient.”

“No, no, that’s not it. Why not buy up a plot of empty land and build a warehouse? This place, lit up like a Christmas tree, is conspicuous as hell. A well-known local doctor’s estate? There’s a reason for that.”

She sent him a questioning look.

“I’m still figuring that part out.”

She pocketed her phone. “All of it stinks,” she said. “This isn’t shaking out like any drug case I’ve ever worked. We’re missing something.”

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