Ridge (Texas Boudreau Brotherhood Book 4) Page 12

  “I get that you like her. But what makes you think she isn’t involved? People will do a lot of shady things for money, regardless of whether it straddles the lines of decency or not. Allowing safe passage for a drug cartel would net her a huge payday.”

  “That’s the thing. Maggie’s loaded; she doesn’t need money. She inherited enough money, she couldn’t spend it all in her lifetime. It doesn’t fit.”

  “Okay.”

  When Shiloh didn’t elaborate on his monosyllabic comment, Ridge countered, “Okay? What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means I believe you. Question is, how’re you going to prove it before the next run goes through? Because I’m thinking if you’re here, it has to be happening soon.”

  “That’s the million-dollar question. I’ve been working on her security, going over the past logs with a fine-tooth comb, and I’ve found nothing. Zilch. Granted, a good chunk of the property isn’t fenced or alarmed, so it’s plausible that somebody is sneaking across her land without her knowing about it, but that’s a stretch. Maggie hasn’t done anything untoward, nothing to make me think she knows the trucks are going to roll any time now.”

  As soon as the words left his mouth, Ridge realized that actually wasn’t true. The past two days Maggie had been acting antsy and distant, spending more time by herself, or disappearing for a couple hours without telling him. Not that she needed his permission; they weren’t in any kind of relationship. Maybe it was part of her routine. Her comings and goings weren’t any of his business—except they were, as part of the investigation. Like it or not, he was going to have to confront her and get some answers, before anybody ended up hurt.

  “From the look on your face, you’ve thought of something, dude. Spill.”

  Ridge sighed deeply. “Maggie’s been…different…the last couple of days. Disappearing for chunks of time, being more distant. I probably would have noticed sooner, but I’ve been a little preoccupied.”

  “Any reason, other than the obvious, why you’ve been off your game?”

  Darn his brother, he’d always been so astute and tuned into Ridge’s emotions. Couldn’t hide a thing from his twin. “She kissed me. In the gazebo at the Big House.”

  Shiloh laughed, the sound ringing loud enough that other customers looked their way. Ridge sat stone-faced, waiting for his brother’s hilarity to die. It wasn’t funny, not in the least.

  “Dude, you’re a goner.”

  “It’s not like that,” Ridge protested.

  “Sure, sure. It wasn’t like that with Rafe. Or Antonio. Or Brody. They all kissed their gals in the gazebo, and look what happened.” His brother’s mood grew pensive, his lids half-lowered, obscuring his gaze, and Ridge found himself wanting…needing…to know what his brother thought.

  “Do you love her?”

  Ridge hesitated, wanting to deny the truth, but he couldn’t. He wouldn’t lie to his brother. “Yes. I don’t know when it happened, but somewhere, somehow, I’ve fallen in love with Maggie.”

  Shiloh picked up his coffee and saluted Ridge. “We need to figure out how to clear Maggie’s name then, so you can be with your woman.”

  “That’s my plan. One way or another, I’m getting Maggie out of this mess. And I think I’m gonna need your help. You game?”

  Shiloh gave him his patented stop-acting-like-an-idiot look, the one he’d perfected in his teens. “I can’t believe you’d even ask such an asinine question. Anything you need, brother, I’m here for you.”

  “Good. Here’s the plan.”

  Leaning closer, he told Shiloh exactly what he wanted him to do.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Ridge decided it was high time he had a face-to-face with Daniel. His team scoured Maggie’s property west of her house, which contained the majority of the unincorporated land, and they’d found nothing except for three tiny houses under a canopy of trees. He planned to ask her about them, because she’d never once mentioned having additional housing, and wondered why they were there. Did they need extra security, because they weren’t included in her current alarm package? He knew, because he knew what she had and didn’t have backwards, forwards, and sideways.

  He wanted to be with her, but instead she’d taken off—again—right after her daily workout and breakfast. Didn’t tell him where she was headed. Not that she had to, but the fact that she’d started disappearing each day without a word was grating on his nerves, and rousing suspicion. He’d convinced himself that she wasn’t involved with the drug smuggling, and still didn’t believe she’d do it. But doubt began creeping into his thoughts.

  Knocking on the hotel room door, he waited, hands shoved into his jean pockets. Daniel swung the door inward, and Ridge strode through, taking in the almost pristine appearance. Bed was made, the curtains pulled open. A laptop sat on the table, with a stack of papers neatly piled beside it. Across the table, Roland gave Ridge a brief nod, before continuing to study whatever was on his own screen, frowning. Whatever the guy saw wasn’t making him happy.

  “Any news?”

  Daniel simply stared at Ridge, as if implying his question was stupid. “I simply meant with Henry Duvall. He give up any more information?”

  Daniel slowly shook his head. “Nope, he’s been pretty close-mouthed since we picked him up. The most cooperation we’ve had outta the guy was when he made the phone call to Ms. White, giving you his blessing. But our team has searched Ms. White’s property, and there is no sign anybody has or is planning to traverse a route there. Shoot, there’s barely dirt paths wide enough for an ATV, much less anything the size of the pickup trucks and vans the cartel utilize to move their drugs. They found nothing except for the little houses I told you about. They’re fully stocked and equipped with power lines, buried underground. Whole setup must’ve cost her a pretty penny, too. There’s also camouflage netting strung between the trees. No clue why she’d do that, because it blocks the sunshine. Personally, I doubt they’re set up for friends and family. Could be a stopgap spot for our bad guys though, to lose any surveillance if they suspect they’re being followed.”

  “I think the netting might be to block the drones. Which make me wonder what she’s doing with three tiny houses? She definitely doesn’t need the extra space. Her house is huge, plenty big enough for guests. I plan to ask her about them today. I’m sure she’s got a good explanation.” At least, Ridge hoped she did, because he hadn’t been able to come up with one.

  “I checked the prices for those particular tiny houses, and those models didn’t come cheap,” Roland glanced at Ridge, making eye contact for mere seconds before going back to his computer. “From all accounts, each one runs between fifty and seventy-five grand. Add in the cost of running electricity underground, you’re not talking chump change. Those houses are there for a reason. Whether nefarious or not remains to be seen.”

  Nefarious? Dude, get a life.

  “Could the drivers be pulling onto Ms. White’s land, hiding deep on the property, and staying a day or two, maybe more, until surveillance has lessened, and then continue on with the drugs? If she’s got safeguards in place, like the netting, what’s to say she isn’t harboring these fugitives until it’s safe for them to continue? It makes a weird kind of sense.” Daniel resumed his seat in front of his laptop, and pulled up a topographical map. “Here’s where we found the houses. They’re small, but fully stocked with everything. Food, drinks, bedding. She’s making things easy for these scumbags, and sleeping in one of those tiny things is probably a heck of a lot more comfortable than sleeping in their trucks or staying in a fleabag hotel.” He shrugged at Ridge’s glare. “I’m just saying.”

  Ridge studied the map, memorizing where Daniel had pointed. He’d driven that area on the ATV and hadn’t spotted the tiny homes. Shaking his head, he gave himself a mental slap. He’d been too distracted, allowed his focus to drift, instead of doing the job.

  Walking over to the window, he glanced down at the expanse of parking lot and shook his hea
d. Even now he was distracted, itching to get back to Maggie, instead of keeping his mind on getting millions of dollars of junk off the streets. He started to turn away when he spotted a slender woman with long dark hair climb out of a van and head toward the bus discharging passengers. Was it—could it be Maggie?

  Zeroing his focus on the woman, he sucked in a breath when he caught a look at her face. It was Maggie. Pulling aside the sheer white drapery, he leaned closer to the window, following Maggie’s every move. He watched as she met with two women who’d disembarked from the bus with four kids. Maggie talked animatedly to the women, smiling and pointing toward the vehicle she’d climbed out of moments before. Within minutes, they’d loaded in, and Maggie drove away. He wondered where the van came from; he didn’t recognize it from her garage. Questions were mounting, and he was determined it was time to get the answers straight from the source.

  “Daniel, I think it’s time I confront Maggie with what we’ve got. The runs taking place in the next twenty-four hours. We’re out of time, and if she’s part of this—which I still doubt—I’ll bring her in myself. This ends now.”

  “Why the sudden change of heart, Boudreau?” Roland studied Ridge like he was some kind of bug under a microscope, with an air of fascination.

  “Because I just saw her load a group of people in a van and drive away from your hotel. She’s been acting secretive the last couple of days, and I aim to get to the bottom of this, once and for all.”

  Without another word, he headed for the door, but stopped with his hand on the knob. “When this case is over, I’m done.”

  “What? Wait a minute, Boudreau. You can’t quit just like that,” Daniel sputtered, jumping from his chair. “You’re part of this team. You can’t walk away.”

  With a smile, Ridge shot back. “Watch me.”

  Maggie’s stomach clenched and rolled, and her palms sweated. Since Henry wasn’t around, she’d have to do his job. He’d made a lot of the arrangements, dealing with their contacts, and making sure the finite details were covered. Or he did, until he’d gone out of town at the last minute, and hadn’t made arrangements for pickup of the women and children. Without backup being arranged, she’d have to handle things herself.

  She could do this. It had been her idea in the first place. When she’d first started contacting people, it had taken months of wading through organizations, dealing with social workers, finding people who pointed her in the right direction. What she was doing wasn’t strictly legal—but it was necessary.

  Now she sat outside the hotel, determined to see her plans through. Waiting. Hoping. Scared half out of her mind she was going to be caught and arrested. Up to this point, she hadn’t done anything wrong, but once she met her contacts, everything would change. Maggie straightened in her seat in the van she’d bought a couple of days earlier. She’d forked over cash so it couldn’t be traced back to her. She hadn’t even applied for the title yet, because in two days, the van would disappear permanently.

  Her eyes widened as she watched the bus pull alongside the hotel. It was one of those big luxury vans, with all the bells and whistles, the kind business commuters used when traveling from city to city within the state. It cost a lot more than a regular bus ticket, which made it ideal for her purposes. Going this route made it harder for the passengers to be tracked. They’d been booked under fake names, and paid for with a corporate credit card to a company buried beneath a multitude of dummy companies. Nobody looking for the women would think they’d pay extra to ride in style, which was exactly the point.

  It didn’t take long for her to spot her visitors. Two women stood, shoulders slumped forward, their posture defeated. One woman carried an infant who couldn’t have been more than a few months old, and a little boy clutched her hand, his silky blond hair curly and mussed. A second woman held the hand of two young children who bore a striking resemblance to each other. Twins. She hadn’t expected that, and her heart ached at the aura of sadness surrounding the small group of travelers.

  Climbing from the driver’s seat, Maggie walked toward the women. “Good afternoon. Are you Isabelle and Caroline?” She knew those weren’t their real names, but simply part of an elaborate scheme to help these women and their families disappear with new identities. A port in the storm, she was a pit-stop on their journey of escape.

  The darker-haired woman nodded, and glanced down at her baby. “Yes.” Her words were barely above a whisper, but Maggie understood her hesitance, her reluctance to trust anyone.

  “I’m Mary. Why don’t we get your things, and I’ll take you to the place where you’ll be staying.” She followed her words with a brilliant smile, hoping to convey that everything was alright, and they didn’t have to worry about anything.

  “Thank you.”

  “I’m glad to help.”

  It didn’t take long to gather the few meager belongings they’d brought with them, and she winced at the threadbare duffle bags which contained all their worldly belongings. The kids piled into the van with little coaxing, almost as downtrodden as their parents. The van had been equipped with car seats for the kids and the baby, though the infant’s mother seemed reluctant to part with the child even for a second.

  She desperately wanted to stop and buy junk food and stuff them full, but she’d been warned to avoid doing anything other than picking them up and rushing them straight to the safe houses.

  The ones on her property. The tiny houses she’d placed deep in the wooded area of her land, with every safety precaution she could put into place, including blocking access from anywhere, and keeping them camouflage from prying eyes. These families were on the run from untenable situations. They weren’t criminals being hunted. They were abused and battered wives and children, trying to escape the unimaginable home lives they’d endured. Yet the very judicial system which should have protected them victimized them, granting sole parental guardianship and rights of these children to the ones who’d abused them.

  “We’ll have you settled in no time, I promise. I’ve got everything you’ll need to last a few days. Plenty of food and drink. Clean bedding and a bathroom.” Giving them an encouraging smile, she closed the van’s side door and raced around to the driver’s side. Time to get as far away from the bus as possible. In the improbable likelihood somebody spotted them, she’d lose them along the circuitous route she’d plotted.

  Inside the van, it was unnaturally quiet, especially with four young children. Kids should be able to laugh and joke and play, not be silent and terrified, terrorized by their custodial parent. Shaking her head, she couldn’t believe any court system could award custody to the abusive monsters that beat their wives and did even more unimaginable atrocities to their children. Kids were supposed to be protected and cherished, not used as punching bags—or worse.

  The two women seated behind her were escaping their abusers, with literally the clothes on their backs and little else, except for the most precious things they possessed: their children.

  Maggie remembered the first time she’d heard about the underground effort to relocate women who were victims of domestic violence and their need for waystations across the country. She knew they were all worse off than she’d ever been, but she connected with these women on a deeply personal level. Besides, she had the resources to help that so many didn’t, and what good was the money if she didn’t do something good with it?

  The drive from town seemed like an eternity, because she had to circle around to the backside of her property, using the northern border to enter. She didn’t dare use the front entrance. Somebody might see. Or their arrival would be recorded on the security footage, and she didn’t want to explain to Ridge why six strangers had shown up on her property, only to disappear without a trace.

  Meandering her way over the rough, rocky terrain made her go slower, but she finally pulled the van to a stop in front of the bungalows, as she liked to call them. Made them seem more like a vacation rental than a stop-gap. But no matter how much s
he prettied up the name, they basically were what they were: an interim port in the storm.

  “Let’s get you settled.” Pulling the keys from her pocket, she unlocked two of the front doors, and let the women choose which one they wanted. Wrapping her arms around her stomach, Maggie watched as the woman with the baby, was she Isabelle or Caroline, she wondered, fingered the colorful drapes hanging over the kitchen sink. It almost broke her heart, and she couldn’t help wondering what kind of hellacious life she’d endured that something as simple as curtains would be a big deal.

  “Like I said, there’s food in the fridge, along with snacks, sodas and juice. There’s more in the pantry here,” she opened the cabinet door, and watched the boy’s eyes grow round at the site of the cookies and chips.

  Poor little munchkin.

  “Thank you. This is all…”

  “You’re welcome,” Maggie squeezed the other woman’s shoulder. “I’ll be back to check on you in a few hours. Let me know if you need anything.” Opening a drawer under the sink, she pulled out a burner phone and handed it to the woman. “I programmed my number in there. Don’t hesitate to call me, no matter what time, day or night, if there’s anything you need or want. You are my honored guests, and I want you to feel comfortable.” Glancing at the little boy, who’d plopped down on the sofa with some of the toys she’d purchased, she whispered, “You’re safe here, I promise.”

  The woman’s eyes filled with tears, and her mouth opened and closed a couple of times before she finally spoke. “Safe. I haven’t felt safe in so long, I’m not sure I know what it feels like anymore.”

  “You will. Every day, it’ll get stronger and stronger, until one day you won’t remember the fear. You’ll only know that you’re never alone. There are a lot of us who’ve got your back.”