Title: Investigative Reporting
Chapter 2:
Author's Note: Okay, now for the meat of the story. The girls head out on their camping trip. Their first night there, the girls are attacked and a trap is set for the seven. The thing with Cuervo really happened to a friend of mine. Tap is a representation of my own dear mount, who has in fact done most of the things described in the story. Thanks again to Mog and those who came up with the names of the horses.
Warnings: Language, Violence, Crude humor
~~
The city rolled by as the cab sped down the street. She noticed the neighborhood housing becoming slowly more bleak and dilapidated. Tall, urban townhouses gave way to small, single story houses, then to cramped apartment buildings, and finally all she saw were gray, crumbling building that looked like their day with the demolition crew was long past.
Sam didn't really stop to ponder the neighborhood for very long. She was still thinking about Mary's run in the night before. The stubborn reporter refused to report the incident to the police. "I'm fine, my informant's fine, so what's the point? I'd have to tell the police what I know about Bartonelli and that would kill my story. I don't want to tip off my suspect."
"I think you're too late on that count. Who do you think was shooting at you?"
"Random drive by," Mary said flippantly. "Happens all the time in these neighborhoods." Sam refrained from pointing out that they were the only ones on the street, they were not in disputed gang turf, and no gang in the world she knew of drove a Lexus. Unfortunately, Sam had failed to get the plate number.
The cab drew to a stop along the curb. "Are you sure this is the right place?" Samantha queried. She saw Tanner's truck parked on the other side of the street, so she already knew the answer.
"This is the place you asked for lady. But if I was you, I wouldn't get out of the cab. This place gives me the creeps. They call it Purgatorio, a joke, get it?"
Sam slowly opened her door and got out. "Hysterical," she muttered.
She handed the cabbie his fare. "It's your funeral lady. I'm outta here." Before Sam could respond, the cab tore off down the street. Sam took the time to look around. A group of rough looking teens glared at her accusingly. Sam trotted toward Tanner's truck. A few younger kids were playing with a new soccer ball on the sidewalk.
Tanner's truck sat, unlocked, by an old brick building. Despite the early morning, the heat waves were already starting to roll in. Sam guessed the temperature to be around 78 degrees, and as the day wore on it would only grow hotter.
She peered into the window of the truck. The passenger seat was all torn up with what looked like claw marks. Vin had often joked that his truck was three colors, white, green, and rust. Sam thought the truck should be headed for the scrap heap.
Eventually, Sam left the truck and went to the door. She tried the buzzer, but either it was broken or never worked in the first place. She tried the door. It swung open easily, big surprise. Sam walked up the stairs, not trusting the rickety old elevator. She saw a few people on her way to the third floor, but none of them stayed around to talk. They just sort of peered out before slamming the door shut.
"Friendly bunch." Tanner's apartment was at the end of the hallway. The bare floorboards creaked under her feet and a fluorescent light blinked and buzzed. The floor, she figured, was more dirt than wood. A few children's toys lay scattered amongst the filth. Sam knocked lightly on Tanner's door. The hinges creaked with protest, then the door swung open.
Sam poked her head inside, "Vin? Vin are you home? It's Sam. I know I'm a little early. Hello?" Sam got no response. She edged farther into the apartment and surveyed the scene before her.
The apartment was larger than she had anticipated. It seemed to take up half the floor. Concrete support beams stuck out of the ground and it looked like Vin's apartment was made wider by knocking down a few walls. Save for the area directly in front of her it was mostly bare, with few furnishings. To her left was the kitchen which had grease stains everywhere. Farther beyond the kitchen area was what Sam guessed to be the bathroom. To her right was an old, faded leather couch and a small TV that looked like it was rarely ever used. ON the far end of the apartment a mattress lay on the ground, the covers tossed to one side. A punching bag hung from the ceiling in the middle of the empty space.
"Vin?" Sam shut the door behind her and walked into the kitchen. Suddenly, there came a soft snarl and something launched itself upon her shoulders. Sam jumped nearly out of her skin and screamed. The thing clawed at her hair and she had to shield her face with her hands. After fumbling for a moment her hands grasped the small, furry creature and peeled it off her head. She tossed it away.
An angry orange tabby landed on its feet a few yards away. It hissed and snarled, swatting the air in Sam's direction. She stared at the cat wide eyed. She was still in a state of shock when she felt the hand on her shoulder. "Shit!" Sam jumped away, tripping over a bowl on the ground and slamming to the floor. Someone started to laugh.
Sam grasped the aluminum water bowl and tossed it at the laughing sharpshooter. "You think this is funny Vin? That damned cat nearly gave me a heart attack! And you, don't you know better than to sneak up on a person?"
"I was under the impression that this was my apartment Sam. Don't you know better than to enter someone's home uninvited?"
"I was invited Vin and the door was open."
"I never lock it."
"In this neighborhood?" She asked incredulously.
"Nope." He grinned, "I can always count on Cuervo here to scare away intruders."
"Shut up Tanner. Where the hell did you get that damned guard cat anyway? Most pet stores like the animals NOT to attack their patrons."
"Honestly?"
"No, I want you to make up some cock and bull story about the friggin thing. Yes honestly!"
"Funny story. I was on my way back here a few winters ago and I decided to stop for coffee and something to eat. I didn't want to turn off my engine, so I left it idling outside. And yeah, I realize that could be construed as a bad idea, but my truck can be kinda fickle about startin when the weather gets cold."
"Go figure," Sam remarked dryly.
"Anyway, I came back out when I heard this weird whining sound. I thought it was the engine so I turned off the truck and popped the hood. I look around and what do I see but this dirty, scruffy looking cat butt poking out of my engine. Cuervo here had his head stuck down in my engine and it was sittin on top of my battery. I guess he climbed inside looking for someplace warm. So I unwedge its head and the darned cat attaches itself to my shoulder and is just purrin like there's no tomorrow. I haven't been able to get rid of him since."
"You're kidding me."
"Truth is stranger than fiction. He comes and goes as he pleases, sometimes hangin out with the kids and sometimes holing up here."
"Is that where you were, with those kids I saw coming in?"
Tanner nodded. "I play ball with them sometimes. That's how I knew you were here too. Paulo told me he saw a pretty white woman who looked like she was lost enter the building. Aren't too many round here that fit that description. You ready to head out?"
"The farther I get from that cat the better. Let's go."
--
Larabee's ranch was hidden away in a small valley in the mountains outside of Boulder. The area was beautiful, despite the fact, or maybe because of it, that there was little done to make it look beautiful. Chris obviously did not indulge in landscapers or the practice of manicuring his lawn. The ranch looked rugged and wild. Hundreds of acres of land stretched out before her eyes.
"Oh wow," was all Sam could muster when she saw it.
"Not a bad spread huh? Do you realize how much this would cost now?" Sam shook her head, her eyes never leaving the landscape. "Millions I'd guess. Chris bought it before everyone started to move out here and land prices shot through the roof." The truck lumbered up to the ranch house, sputtering little clouds of smoke behind it.
The two friends ambled down the worn path to Larabee's roomy eight horse barn. "Horses stay out most of the year, either in runs or one of the big pastures. Only horses Chris keeps in here full time are his riding horse Job, and Ezra's chestnut. That damn horse bout as finicky as his owner when it comes to 'adverse weather conditions.' Used to keep him outside, but old Chaucer would open the pasture gate and come on in whenever a storm came. Was kind of rough on Chris, seein as he had to round up all the other horses."
Samantha laughed. "Sounds like his owner." Vin chuckled.
"Right now he's got all you girls riding horses in here. See there, that's Mary's palomino, Goldie. Casey's bay, Nova is the horse in the third stall. Inez is borrowing Clyde, Buck's gray. You're the only one who doesn't have a mount yet."
"Larabee have any specific breed?"
Vin shrugged. "Mostly Quarter Horses, but there are a few Appy's and Paints mixed in. Chaucer, and JD's horse, Seven are Appendix."
It was then that Tanner realized Sam was no longer listening. Her attention, as well as her body, had been drawn to a stall down at the end of the aisle. Tanner trotted over to her. "Who is this? He's a Thoroughbred right?" she queried.
A willowy dark bay pressed his chest against the front of the stall. The gelding had wide set, large, expressive eyes. His neck and shoulders were dark, but his haunches and belly were a rich red brown. He had two white socks on his front and rear right legs. There was a star in the middle of his forehead and a white snip that ran between his nostrils. Muscles rippled beneath his silky coat.
He was bigger than most of the horses on the property, but not large by any of Sam's English hunter standards. She was used to the big European Warmbloods that topped out somewhere between seventeen and eighteen hands. The Thoroughbred lounging in the stall could even be called short, topping out at a shade over sixteen hands.
"That there is Tap, short for Velvet Tapestry. Chris saved him from the killers a couple months ago. Used to be a decent allowance horse on the track, which explains the name. Used to be like I said, till he ran on a bum leg. Pulled his shoulder muscles pretty bad when he went down in the gate. Owners would have kept him, but for the fact that they couldn't get him near a starting gate again. What good is a racehorse that can't race right? So they sent him to auction, which is where Chris outbid a meatpacker for him. He's got all the makings of a nice horse, but he's a foul tempered son of a bitch."
The beautiful bay nuzzled Sam's palm. She looked over at the sharpshooter in disbelief. "Oh yeah, he's a killer." She scratched the off kilter diamond on the middle of the gelding's forehead. Tap leaned into the caress and whickered throatily.
"Okay, so foul tempered was the wrong choice of words. Look Sam, that horse is trouble. He is real sweet till you try to ride him. Then he's, he's," the long haired man struggled to find the correct wording, "he's a firecracker. He throws shit at you just because he can and it's not like he's mean about it. He bolts, he bucks, he rears, he shies. He pulls more pranks than me, Ez, Buck and JD combined."
"He can't be that bad," Sam scoffed.
"Really? Well let's see. He has bucked Buck off, go figure cause I won't. He once saw a particularly vicious looking plastic bag out on the trail and jumped a good ten feet to the side, leaving JD in a puddle. Of course, he then proceeded to pick up the bag and chase after the other horses, waving the thing in the air like a flag. He once bit Ezra's thumb and refused to let go for a good five minutes."
Vin racked his brain for more examples of the horse's antics. "Mind you he didn't break the skin or anything, just wouldn't let go. Then there was the time he took a rather large section out of the farrier's pants. Then there was a time Chris tried riding him, but the horse bloated so big that when Chris went to get on, the saddle ended up beneath the horse. And mind you he does all of this and then looks at you with that innocent 'what on earth did I do' look that he's givin me right now. Oh yeah, and he took Chris's coffee right out of his hand and dumped it over Nathan's head. Then..."
Sam held up her hands to get Vin to stop. She was laughing so hard that tears were streaming down her face. "Please stop. I can't take any more."
Vin smiled softly. "Look, Peso is due for shoes today and I want to talk to the shoer myself, so I arranged for someone to take you out to try whatever horse you choose."
"I have to try him."
"Figured as much. Why do you think I had Chris bring him in?" He started to walk away down the aisle. "You two ought get along just fine! Just don't say I didn't warn you."
"Well you gotta love a horse with character!"
A voice floated out from one of the stalls. "Yes, and that irritating example of an equine has it in spades." Ezra stepped out of the stall across the aisle and two doors down, leading Chaucer behind him.
Sam froze momentarily, then spun toward Vin. "Vin, Ezra? You're having me ride out with Ezra? That's not funny. Vin? I'll end up dead at the side of the trail. Vin don't you laugh at me! I'll get you for this Tanner!"
"Are you quite done now? Chaucer and I both detest waiting."
Sam sighed. The idea of spending the morning on the trail with Standish rankled her stomach, but she desperately wanted to ride. "I'll get his tack."
--
Sam mounted the tall, dark bay after checking his girth twice to make sure it was tight. She eyed the gelding suspiciously. Tap craned his head around to look at her. "Oh don't look at me like that. You know what you did." Tap snorted.
Ezra rode over to her on Chaucer, barely managing to conceal his grin. Sam pushed a lock of soaking wet hair out of her face and glared at the southerner. "Not a word Standish." Tiny rivulets of water ran out of her copper locks and off her shirt sleeves. She swung into the saddle, grimacing as she heard an audible squish when she sat.
It was the second time she had been dumped by the gelding on their ride. Sam was willing to let the first go as an accident, but now she wasn't so sure. In order to avoid a suspicious looking puddle in the middle of the trail, Tap had dodged to the side, underneath a low hanging branch. Sam, who had not been paying enough attention, was swept off the horse over his haunches.
The second time Sam was positive that the horse had dumped her on purpose. After an hour or so on the trail they had stopped to rest and water the horses. When Sam went to get back on Tap was ready. As her leg was arcing over his back he bolted. She ended up perched precariously behind the cantle of the saddle, her left foot still in the stirrup and her left hand on the pommel. She might have managed to stay on, but for the fact that Tap, on his second bucking circuit around the small clearing, stopped dead and then whirled on his hindquarters in the opposite direction. Sam went flying over his shoulder and into the stream.
Ezra gazed at her innocently. "Did I say a word? I've been practically mute our entire ride." Ezra made a small hand gesture to Chaucer. The chestnut threw up his head and whinnied, sounding an awful lot like mocking laughter.
Sam shot Ezra an accusing look. "Your version of mute is more than most people talk in a day."
"See? I am curtailing my verbosity for your sake. Would you like to head back now?"
"Yes Ezra, thank you."
--
"Have a good ride?" Vin smirked, his eyes dancing and full of mischief.
By this time Sam had almost fully dried, the mid morning sun baking off the moisture in her clothes. She smiled sweetly. "Actually Vin it was lovely. You made too much of this horse. He really is charming." There was no way in hell Sam would give Tanner the satisfaction of saying, 'I told you so.'
Vin's eyes narrowed. "Really Ez?"
The lie slipped over the southerner's tongue easily. "Absolutely. Tap and Ms. Hunter got along famously. In fact, she expressed her interest on taking him on her camping trip."
Vin eyed the undercover agent suspiciously. Then he shrugged. He looked aver at Chris, who was coiling a length of rope around his arm. "What do you think Cowboy?"
"I think her riding him means I don't have to. That's good enough for me. Not my place to stop someone with a death wish. Go ahead and stick him in the stall you found him in. He can stay there till you all leave in the morning."
Sam nodded and swung off, landing lightly on her toes. She straightened slowly. On the far side of the horse only Ezra could see her grimace. Her butt, as well as her ego and several other places on her body were bruised from her falls. She took a deep breath and walked toward the barn with all the dignity she could muster and hoped no one could hear the sound of water squishing inside her shoes. Tap, for all his earlier protests, followed like a perfect gentleman.
--
It was eight o'clock in the morning. The sun was just beginning to peak over the mountains to Sam's left. She drove slowly, carefully around the hairpin turns in the road, only half listening to the conversation that the other three women were having.
Inez laughed heartily from the back seat and Sam stopped thinking about the sizeable blue and purple bruise on her hip. She started to listen to the others. "...Think about it Mary, the years of all that pent up emotion. He doesn't date, doesn't even flirt. You could have some real fun with him if you could get him to relax, if you catch my drift." She wiggled her eyebrows.
"Inez!" Mary sounded mortified. The other three women laughed heartily. Mary came back with a dig of her own. "And what of you Inez? Are you ever going to stop leading Buck around by the nose?"
Inez's dark eyes danced. "Personally I don't think I lead him by the nose, but whatever appendage I am leading him from, it's way too much fun to stop." Inez grinned wolfishly, "And maybe someday. After all, Senor Wilmington is a big man, si?" This time they all broke into laughter.
"I don't know Inez," Sam shook her head. "It's not always true what they say. I mean, look at Michelangelo's David, big hands, big feet, so disappointing."
Inez wiped a tear from her eye. "What about you Casey? Give us the dirt on JD."
Casey blushed, a deep crimson more red than her shirt. Casey was by far the youngest of the four women. At twenty-two she was seven years Sam's junior, eight to Inez and more than ten to Mary. She was also the quietest when it came to talking about the Seven. She merely mumbled a response.
"What was that Case? We didn't hear you up here," Sam prodded.
"I said I wouldn't know. JD and I haven't...I mean we never..."
Mary turned in her seat. "You've been dating him for three years." Casey nodded meekly. "And in all that time you never..." Casey shook her head.
She placed her head in her hands. She felt like she might cry or laugh, whichever happened to spill out first. "He believes in waiting till marriage."
Inez gaped. Sam slapped her hand over her mouth, but failed to suppress a snort. Mary reached over to the young woman and patted her hand in a motherly way. "Well that's real sweet Casey."
Sam peered into her rearview mirror and smirked. "Yeah, that's very cute. Very 1940's. The boy's chaste."
Casey shot her a dirty look. "Well it seems to me that only person whose love life we have not discussed is yours Sam."
Samantha shrugged. "I'm lucky. You have no ammo considering that my love life is pretty much nonexistent. In the last ten years the longest relationship I've had with a man was my plutonic friendship with my gay riding instructor." She blushed, realizing exactly how pathetic that sounded, even to her. "Oh look, we're here. Pity we can't finish this conversation." She guided the truck and trailer into the dirt parking lot at the trail head.
For the time being their conversation was put on hold. Each woman was busy unloading her horse and gear from the back of the trailer. On top of the four riding horses they had brought an ancient Appaloosa mare to serve as a pack horse.
They were ready within an hour and started up the trail with Mary taking the lead. Casey followed behind her, leading Spot, the pack horse. Mary and Casey were the only two to have ever visited the cabin before. Inez followed on Clyde and Sam and Tap brought up the rear. Had anyone bothered to look behind them, they would have seen a rather interesting argument taking place between horse and rider. Tap wanted to be up front and made Sam know it. Eventually they settled upon a compromise; Tap would stay behind the other horses so long as Sam kept letting him steal bites of grass along the trail.
They traveled steadily upward for the better part of three hours. Sam felt herself get lightheaded as the air grew thinner. Eventually Casey threw on a light sweatshirt. No one talked, each of the women contemplating things to themselves. Casey watched the scenery, Mary watched the trail, and Inez thought about her bar. Sam couldn't help wonder what the rest of the Seven were doing right then...
--
Nathan boarded a flight for New York. The lanky ex medic crammed himself into the window seat in business class beside a fat man and a woman with a bawling baby. He was finally on vacation. His friends had no wounds and no impending battles to be fought. He was free to relax. He had no worries.
He would see Rain for the first time in three months. In a few short hours they would be together again, wandering about New York city. He closed his eyes and tried to picture her smiling face. Eventually he drifted off, and Denver was left behind.
**
Josiah too had chosen not to go down to Durango with his friends. He packed a small suitcase with clothes and gifts. He would be away for a few days, then return, leaving him nearly a week to get in touch with his spiritual side.
He just wanted to visit his sister first. Josiah smiled as he picked up the small box of chocolates, Hannah's favorite. It had been too long since he had visited the special home where his sister lived. He lingered by the door, breathing deeply the hot, dry air and sighed. Vacations were nice.
**
The rest of team Seven were gathered together at Chris's ranch, packing for their fishing trip. They planned to leave the next morning, even thought they all knew it was wishful thinking. Someone would have to drag Ezra out of bed and throw him in the shower if they ever wanted to make their nine AM departure time.
Vin relished the chance to spend some quality time with nature. He loved camping, fishing and hunting with nothing but his knife and his wits. He couldn't wait to tackle some of the class four rapids that were sure to be churning in the river. His eyes practically glowed as he thought of it.
Fishing, hiking, camping in an area with no civilization in sight. The very idea made Ezra's stomach turn. He held a great appreciation for the amenities of modern life.
He rationalized his coming to the fact that Maude, his rather overbearing mother had threatened by phone to make a visit the next time he had a vacation. There was nothing he wanted less than to spend a week listening to his mother tell him exactly how he was wasting his life. But then there was that nagging little voice in his head that told him that he was only kidding himself. Spending time with his surrogate family, although he would never openly admit it, was something he looked forward to, even cherished. And despite their arguments to the contrary, he suspected that his friends would be disappointed not to hear him bitch about the weather, the situation and camping in general. They had simply come to expect Ezra's half hearted protests.
Chris stuffed his pack neatly and efficiently. He could finally relax. He would have his friends around him, his family. He could relax with Buck and JD. He could hike with Vin. He could lose all the money he had to Ezra their first night in camp playing poker. Money he had saved just for that reason. He truly hoped that one day he would beat his smooth talking undercover agent, even though he knew his chances were slim to none.
JD didn't like camping all that much. He didn't even like fishing. What he liked was the fact that he could spend some time with Vin, Chris and the others. They could just be there, together, and that was enough for him.
Buck wasn't thinking about the trip at all. He was thinking about Inez and the others. He looked up at his friends. "What do you think the girls are doing right now?"
Every one of his friends shot him a dirty look. "Don't you ever think about anything besides sex?" JD asked.
"No," came unified response from the other three.
"Can I help..." Buck began.
"Here it comes," Vin rolled his eyes.
"...if the ladies cannot deal with..."
"He says it and I'll hit him, by God I mean it," Chris grumbled.
"...my animal magnetism?"
"HE said it," Ezra commented dryly. "I believe it is time for you to carry through on your threat Mr. Larabee." Vin, Chris, Ezra and JD traded glances. Buck sat on the armchair grinning like an idiot and staring out into space. Four pillows hit him at the same time.
"Rest assured Mr. Wilmington that our friends of the female persuasion will not be having an enjoyable evening."
"Why is that Ez?"
"Because unless I am sadly mistaken, those are thunderclouds rolling in as we speak." The other three men turned to witness the oncoming storm. Somewhere, deep inside the leaden gray skies lightning flashed. The clouds settled in to swallow the setting sun, and cast Larabee's ranch in a shroud of darkness.
--
Something felt wrong. She felt it deep inside, a hard knot in her stomach, and it was more than just the thunderstorm. The light from the fire flickered over her features as she stood by the window, staring out into the rain. Casey, Inez and Mary seemed oblivious to any sign of danger, and Sam had to wonder if spending so much time around the Seven was making her paranoid.
Mary left Casey and Inez by the fireplace. They had been tending to the horses when the storm hit and all had ended up sopping wet. It was one of the fiercest storms Mary had seen in all her years living in Colorado. The rain fell in sheets and there were gale force winds tearing at the branches of the trees.
"Something wrong?"
"Yes, no, maybe. Any more luck getting in touch with your mystery man in the trench coat?"
Mary stole a glance at the others. "Nope. He hasn't been answering my pages and I can't reach him by his cell." She shrugged. "He's probably keeping a low profile. I'll try again when we get back to the city."
"Your suspect, what is it you have on him?"
Mary shrugged. "It's not so much what I have on him, it's what I've found about Bartonelli that makes this interesting. My informant was doling out bank statements and work orders. Bartonelli was still pretty new to the drug game. He received a shipment some eight years ago, but at the time he didn't have a supplier, not even waiting buyers. But despite that, he manages to have one of the biggest cartels in the west set up within a year? I don't think so. My informant was going to tell me more, but well, you know."
"Why do you think he was framed? Who would gain from that?"
"The person who he had to step on to set up his cartel. I just need the name and the pieces will start falling into place.
Lightening flashed outside. A small movement a few hundred yards away caught Sam's eye. "Did you see that?"
"See what?"
Sam didn't respond. Her eyes swept through the darkness until another flash of light illuminated the forest around the cabin. This time Sam was positive she saw something, someone, closer than before. The lightening tore into the muted sky. Sam counted four approaching the cabin. "That. Mary, I think you might be closer than you realize."
Mary had seen the attackers as well. Her pale blue eyes were alive and wide. "Oh my God. Do you really think they're after me?"
Sam cocked her head to the right and shrugged. "That'd be my guess. As far as I know I haven't pissed anyone off that badly in a while. Inez, Casey, we got trouble."
The other two were on their feet in an instant. "What's up?"
"I'm not sure. Get to the horses and start away from the cabin. I'll stay here."
"Do you have your gun?" Casey inquired.
"No Case I don't have my gun. What the hell do I need a 9 mm for on a camping trip? To have target practice with the local flora and fauna?" Sam snapped.
"I don't know, maybe a situation like this?"
"What exactly is a situation like this? Situations like this don't happen to normal people. Now go, all of you, out the window in back." Mary hesitated. "Mary they're after you. You need to get out of here."
With a grim set to her mouth, Mary nodded resignedly. She pushed Casey to the window. Inez hadn't moved. "You can't fight them alone, unarmed Sam."
"I don't really think I can fight them at all Inez, just buy you guys some time. You think two of us are gonna stand a better chance than one, unarmed?"
Inez strode over to the cabin's only closet. "But Senora, I won't be unarmed." She hefted a large wooden bat from the closet floor. "I saw it when I put away my coat." Sam had to smile.
A few tense moments later the front door burst open. Six men, soaking and clad completely in black rushed in. 'These guys look like they shop at the same store as Larabee,' Sam thought wryly. Inez brandished the bat, shaking it threateningly at anyone who came too close.
The last man to come in was of medium height and build. His eyes were brown and his hair line receding. His nose was a little too large for his narrow face and hooked to the left, like it had been broken and badly reset. His expression was pinched and angry. His whole person would have been completely unremarkable, but for the long, jagged scar that began on his forehead, jumped his eye and ended just above his cheekbone.
"Where is Travis? And the girl?" he wasn't speaking to Sam or Inez, rather to his men, as if he was accusing them of some failure.
Samantha smiled sweetly. "I don't think we know any man named Travis, do we Inez? Certainly not with a child."
"No, I don't think we do," Inez answered breezily.
For the first time the man glanced at the two women. He strode over to Sam, his eyes boring into hers. She looked back calmly, icily. He stood less than two feet from her, and she could smell his putrid breath. He looked at her for a long time. "I don't know you," he finally stated.
"Well I guess that puts us on equal footing then, seeing as I don't know you either. I would be appreciative of you leaving however."
The man with a scar sort of smiled. He continued to stare into Sam's eyes as he barked orders. "Find Travis and the girl. They'll be on horseback. Subdue her," he waved his hand in the general direction of Inez. Sam heard the bat hit the wall with a crunch and smiled. Inez wasn't about to give up without a fight.
The man reached for Sam's arm and she reacted. She grabbed his wrist and yanked him forward. AS he stumbled toward her she used his momentum and her hip to flip him onto the ground. Then, faster than Sam would have thought possible, she was lying on the ground next to where he had fallen. She realized at that moment that she was outclassed, and would lucky to come away walking. 'You really got to pick your fights better,' she scolded herself.
She rolled away from him, narrowly avoiding a boot to her throat. She stood and he came to her, a blur of fists and feet. Sam held her arms in front of her as a shield as she was backed further and further into the corner of the cabin. She managed to catch one of the man's kicks at her hip and she twisted his ankle, sincerely enjoying the grunt of pain the man let out.
It went on like that for a few more minutes. The man, fighting aggressively and delivering a set of painful, well placed blows. Sam defended for all she was worth, but she was on the losing end of the fight and she knew it. She only managed to hit him square twice. She on the other hand possessed a split lip, bruised ribs and aching knee for her efforts.
Sam was on her knees, her left arm stretched across her midsection and gasping for breath. She saw his feet approach and stop just in front of her. Sam looked up, her tongue running over her teeth as she tasted the metallic flavor of blood welling in her mouth.
"You're not bad." Sam wondered if that was meant as a compliment. "Not good, but not bad. You know Chris Larabee?"
Sam spit at the man's feet. "If I do?"
"Tell him that I'm back. Tell him I have his dear, sweet Mary and that she will remain safe, for the time being. Tell him I'm back for retribution, for my brother, and for this." His traced the ugly scar with his forefinger. A shower of sparks exploded behind Sam's eyes. She felt herself spinning into blackness, then nothingness engulfed her.
--
She blinked, slowly. She groaned. Every part of her body ached and she struggled to remember where she was. She pulled her left arm out from under her body and flexed her fingers, slowly working out the cramps. The cabin. Mary. Inez. Casey. She struggled to her feet. She was alone.
Everything cracked as she limped to the cabin door. Her back, her knees, her sides hurt with a dull, continuous ache. She pulled open the door. The sun had not yet risen over the mountains. She swore softly. The rain had washed away any footprints the attackers might have left. 'Chris, I have to tell him.' She hobbled to the corral.
"Typical," she muttered. "Five mounts to choose from and they leave me with the trail horse from hell. Just typical." She tried to whistle, but it was useless, she couldn't even pucker. "Damn it Tap. Get your big bay butt over here." The gelding ambled over, whickering happily.
It took Sam nearly an hour to tack up the fidgety Thoroughbred, but eventually the job was done. She hauled herself into the saddle and pointed him back down the trail they had come up the day before. The rain had made the trail slick and dangerous. Sam gave Tap his head and worried about staying in the saddle. Every step felt like someone was rattling her teeth.
Tap picked his way down the mountain with almost no guidance from his rider. Sam was still feeling the effects of her lost battle. Her eyes kept threatening to flutter shut.
Horse and rider reached the truck and trailer a few hours later. At least the sun was out and had stopped Sam from shaking like a leaf in the saddle. A familiar, and welcome sight to Tap greeted them when they arrived. Clyde, Buck's gray munched quietly on a patch of grass by the trailer. His saddle hung haphazardly to one side of the horse. The gelding looked up as they reached the trailhead.
Sam slithered off Tap. She reached for the door handle to the truck. 'Shit! The keys! Mary had the keys.' She rested her head on the cool glass. "Fuck it," she muttered. Sam picked a stone off the ground that was approximately the size of a softball. She backed away from the truck and hurled the rock at the window. The horses started at the sound of breaking glass, but neither was ready to leave their grazing spot.
Sam opened the cab door. She knew they had left a cell phone in the truck. She found it in the glove department. She dialed the number to Chris's ranch house, hoping against hope that the ATF agents had not managed to leave on time. Oh God she was tired. She slid to the ground, unable to stand of her own power for any longer. The phone buzzed in her ear.
"Vin? It's Sam. No, no ...I'm okay, sort of. ...Yeah. We've got trouble Vin... No, not on the phone. Bring the horses.... How soon? ...Uh huh, then I'll see you in two. And Vin? Bring a first aid kit." She slapped the cell shut and turned off the power. They were coming, thank God. She was just so tired. Her eyes fluttered, maybe just for a while...
--
"Ouch, damn it! Do you mind?" Sam yanked her head back as she felt the stinging sensation of wound cleaner seeping into the cut above her eye. Sam was still fairly groggy, Vin having woken her only a few minutes earlier. Apparently after their brief exchange on the phone, Sam had fallen into a dreamless sleep.
"Well I apologize Ms. Hunter that I do not have Mr. Jackson's skills in the medical field." The southerner steadfastly pulled Sam back to where he could dab antiseptic on her head.
Sam glared at him. "Nor do you have Nathan's bedside manner." Ezra didn't respond. "You're enjoying this aren't you?"
Ezra flashed a small smile. "I must admit that this particular activity does hold a certain appeal. You actually admitting that you need help is such a rare event. Now hold still while I finish this."
Before he could move however, Chris, Buck and JD arrived with a four horse trailer they had borrowed from a nearby rancher. Chris parked and JD bounded out of the cab. The young man rushed over to Ezra and the ever reluctant Sam looking concerned and apprehensive.
He skidded to a stop a few feet away. "Lordy Sam what the hell happened? Are you okay?"
"I got my ass kicked JD, what does it look like? And no I'm not fine. I hurt and your friend is taking great pleasure in prolonging my discomfort." Sam snapped. JD felt mildly taken aback. Sam was not usually so angry.
"Don't mind her JD. I'd say that being walloped in a fight has put our colleague in a disgruntled state of mind," he scolded. He put down the cotton swab and stood, brushing off his pants. "You most likely have a concussion."
"I'd guess it's more than likely. And I didn't mean to snap at you JD. I'm just a little out of sorts about all this."
"Casey?"
She shook her head. "I don't know. They left and got on the horses, but I don't know what happened after that. The rain washed away the trail and I couldn't follow."
Chris strode up to the little group. Buck, who had just finished off loading the horses, trotted along behind him. "Where is Vin?"
"Takin a look around on Clyde. He should be back soon."
"You gonna be okay Sam?"
"I'll be fine Chris," she assured him. "I'll be all sorts of black and blue in a few days, but fine."
Buck grunted. "Hate to tell you this, but you're all sorts of black and blue now. How many guys were there? And what the hell did they hit you with?"
Sam sighed. "Six men, but I only scrapped it out with one. And he didn't hit me with anything but his hands and feet. This guy was good. Better than me. Better than I've seen in a long while. He says he knows you though Chris."
All eyes turned to Larabee. "Me? I thought this was about Mary's story?"
"I thought so too, but, I don't know. He wanted Mary, that much was obvious, but he seemed to know Inez and Casey too. He comes in and kind of looks around like he knows what's what until he comes to me. He says, 'I don't know you.' I think he planned this whole thing to get to you guys."
"What did he look like? What else did he say?" Chris peppered her with questions.
"Medium height, medium build, brown hair, brown eyes," she shrugged. "You know, if you brought along mug shots this would be easier. He was just, ordinary Chris. And it's not like I'm the best person to ask at the moment. My head feels like oatmeal."
Chris frowned. "There wasn't anything specific?"
"Had a crooked nose. And uh, he said he was back for retribution." Chris gave her a sideways glance. "Something about his brother and this real long scar he had on his face. Ring any bells?"
Chris's face drained of color. "Unbelievable." His cohorts looked at him questioningly. "It was like ten years ago. I was still working homicide in the Denver PD. I got handed this one case. Linked the death of this gang banger to two drug dealers in the area, brothers. Apparently the guy had been trying to sell on their turf and they weren't happy about it. I have never seen a man as messed up as this guy. They beat him till he couldn't move and then gutted him with a hunting blade. There had been a few other murders with the same MO in the past couple of years too."
Sam grimaced at the description. "That was the case I first met Mary. She was this young investigative reporter at the time. I didn't know her well or anything, just met her in passing, but still. Anyway, me and my partner track these guys to a hotel in Gunnison. We found the youngest one in their room. He must have seen us coming because he was ready for us. My partner went in first and uh, I don't suppose he ever knew what hit him. I managed to take down the guy though, but it was too late for Dave."
Chris rubbed his hand over his mouth as he gathered his thoughts. "The guy died on the way to the hospital. Well, his brother wasn't too keen on that and blamed me. Came after me a few weeks later in my apartment, this was about a month before I met Sarah. I don't think I could've beat him in a fair fight, but I managed to get a knife off my counter. During the trial he went a little crazy. Threatened me. Said he'd kill me and everyone I cared about before he was done. Mary even interviewed him for her paper. I still remember the story in the paper. I thought he was locked up for good, but I guess not."
"Do you honestly believe that this man is one and the same Mr. Larabee?"
"Yeah Ez, it makes sense. If it is Lucas we're all in a world of trouble. The man's insane. If he gets the chance he'll make you bleed, then he'll make you die."
End Chapter Two
Like it? I hope so. Thanks for reading.
Chapter 2:
Author's Note: Okay, now for the meat of the story. The girls head out on their camping trip. Their first night there, the girls are attacked and a trap is set for the seven. The thing with Cuervo really happened to a friend of mine. Tap is a representation of my own dear mount, who has in fact done most of the things described in the story. Thanks again to Mog and those who came up with the names of the horses.
Warnings: Language, Violence, Crude humor
~~
The city rolled by as the cab sped down the street. She noticed the neighborhood housing becoming slowly more bleak and dilapidated. Tall, urban townhouses gave way to small, single story houses, then to cramped apartment buildings, and finally all she saw were gray, crumbling building that looked like their day with the demolition crew was long past.
Sam didn't really stop to ponder the neighborhood for very long. She was still thinking about Mary's run in the night before. The stubborn reporter refused to report the incident to the police. "I'm fine, my informant's fine, so what's the point? I'd have to tell the police what I know about Bartonelli and that would kill my story. I don't want to tip off my suspect."
"I think you're too late on that count. Who do you think was shooting at you?"
"Random drive by," Mary said flippantly. "Happens all the time in these neighborhoods." Sam refrained from pointing out that they were the only ones on the street, they were not in disputed gang turf, and no gang in the world she knew of drove a Lexus. Unfortunately, Sam had failed to get the plate number.
The cab drew to a stop along the curb. "Are you sure this is the right place?" Samantha queried. She saw Tanner's truck parked on the other side of the street, so she already knew the answer.
"This is the place you asked for lady. But if I was you, I wouldn't get out of the cab. This place gives me the creeps. They call it Purgatorio, a joke, get it?"
Sam slowly opened her door and got out. "Hysterical," she muttered.
She handed the cabbie his fare. "It's your funeral lady. I'm outta here." Before Sam could respond, the cab tore off down the street. Sam took the time to look around. A group of rough looking teens glared at her accusingly. Sam trotted toward Tanner's truck. A few younger kids were playing with a new soccer ball on the sidewalk.
Tanner's truck sat, unlocked, by an old brick building. Despite the early morning, the heat waves were already starting to roll in. Sam guessed the temperature to be around 78 degrees, and as the day wore on it would only grow hotter.
She peered into the window of the truck. The passenger seat was all torn up with what looked like claw marks. Vin had often joked that his truck was three colors, white, green, and rust. Sam thought the truck should be headed for the scrap heap.
Eventually, Sam left the truck and went to the door. She tried the buzzer, but either it was broken or never worked in the first place. She tried the door. It swung open easily, big surprise. Sam walked up the stairs, not trusting the rickety old elevator. She saw a few people on her way to the third floor, but none of them stayed around to talk. They just sort of peered out before slamming the door shut.
"Friendly bunch." Tanner's apartment was at the end of the hallway. The bare floorboards creaked under her feet and a fluorescent light blinked and buzzed. The floor, she figured, was more dirt than wood. A few children's toys lay scattered amongst the filth. Sam knocked lightly on Tanner's door. The hinges creaked with protest, then the door swung open.
Sam poked her head inside, "Vin? Vin are you home? It's Sam. I know I'm a little early. Hello?" Sam got no response. She edged farther into the apartment and surveyed the scene before her.
The apartment was larger than she had anticipated. It seemed to take up half the floor. Concrete support beams stuck out of the ground and it looked like Vin's apartment was made wider by knocking down a few walls. Save for the area directly in front of her it was mostly bare, with few furnishings. To her left was the kitchen which had grease stains everywhere. Farther beyond the kitchen area was what Sam guessed to be the bathroom. To her right was an old, faded leather couch and a small TV that looked like it was rarely ever used. ON the far end of the apartment a mattress lay on the ground, the covers tossed to one side. A punching bag hung from the ceiling in the middle of the empty space.
"Vin?" Sam shut the door behind her and walked into the kitchen. Suddenly, there came a soft snarl and something launched itself upon her shoulders. Sam jumped nearly out of her skin and screamed. The thing clawed at her hair and she had to shield her face with her hands. After fumbling for a moment her hands grasped the small, furry creature and peeled it off her head. She tossed it away.
An angry orange tabby landed on its feet a few yards away. It hissed and snarled, swatting the air in Sam's direction. She stared at the cat wide eyed. She was still in a state of shock when she felt the hand on her shoulder. "Shit!" Sam jumped away, tripping over a bowl on the ground and slamming to the floor. Someone started to laugh.
Sam grasped the aluminum water bowl and tossed it at the laughing sharpshooter. "You think this is funny Vin? That damned cat nearly gave me a heart attack! And you, don't you know better than to sneak up on a person?"
"I was under the impression that this was my apartment Sam. Don't you know better than to enter someone's home uninvited?"
"I was invited Vin and the door was open."
"I never lock it."
"In this neighborhood?" She asked incredulously.
"Nope." He grinned, "I can always count on Cuervo here to scare away intruders."
"Shut up Tanner. Where the hell did you get that damned guard cat anyway? Most pet stores like the animals NOT to attack their patrons."
"Honestly?"
"No, I want you to make up some cock and bull story about the friggin thing. Yes honestly!"
"Funny story. I was on my way back here a few winters ago and I decided to stop for coffee and something to eat. I didn't want to turn off my engine, so I left it idling outside. And yeah, I realize that could be construed as a bad idea, but my truck can be kinda fickle about startin when the weather gets cold."
"Go figure," Sam remarked dryly.
"Anyway, I came back out when I heard this weird whining sound. I thought it was the engine so I turned off the truck and popped the hood. I look around and what do I see but this dirty, scruffy looking cat butt poking out of my engine. Cuervo here had his head stuck down in my engine and it was sittin on top of my battery. I guess he climbed inside looking for someplace warm. So I unwedge its head and the darned cat attaches itself to my shoulder and is just purrin like there's no tomorrow. I haven't been able to get rid of him since."
"You're kidding me."
"Truth is stranger than fiction. He comes and goes as he pleases, sometimes hangin out with the kids and sometimes holing up here."
"Is that where you were, with those kids I saw coming in?"
Tanner nodded. "I play ball with them sometimes. That's how I knew you were here too. Paulo told me he saw a pretty white woman who looked like she was lost enter the building. Aren't too many round here that fit that description. You ready to head out?"
"The farther I get from that cat the better. Let's go."
--
Larabee's ranch was hidden away in a small valley in the mountains outside of Boulder. The area was beautiful, despite the fact, or maybe because of it, that there was little done to make it look beautiful. Chris obviously did not indulge in landscapers or the practice of manicuring his lawn. The ranch looked rugged and wild. Hundreds of acres of land stretched out before her eyes.
"Oh wow," was all Sam could muster when she saw it.
"Not a bad spread huh? Do you realize how much this would cost now?" Sam shook her head, her eyes never leaving the landscape. "Millions I'd guess. Chris bought it before everyone started to move out here and land prices shot through the roof." The truck lumbered up to the ranch house, sputtering little clouds of smoke behind it.
The two friends ambled down the worn path to Larabee's roomy eight horse barn. "Horses stay out most of the year, either in runs or one of the big pastures. Only horses Chris keeps in here full time are his riding horse Job, and Ezra's chestnut. That damn horse bout as finicky as his owner when it comes to 'adverse weather conditions.' Used to keep him outside, but old Chaucer would open the pasture gate and come on in whenever a storm came. Was kind of rough on Chris, seein as he had to round up all the other horses."
Samantha laughed. "Sounds like his owner." Vin chuckled.
"Right now he's got all you girls riding horses in here. See there, that's Mary's palomino, Goldie. Casey's bay, Nova is the horse in the third stall. Inez is borrowing Clyde, Buck's gray. You're the only one who doesn't have a mount yet."
"Larabee have any specific breed?"
Vin shrugged. "Mostly Quarter Horses, but there are a few Appy's and Paints mixed in. Chaucer, and JD's horse, Seven are Appendix."
It was then that Tanner realized Sam was no longer listening. Her attention, as well as her body, had been drawn to a stall down at the end of the aisle. Tanner trotted over to her. "Who is this? He's a Thoroughbred right?" she queried.
A willowy dark bay pressed his chest against the front of the stall. The gelding had wide set, large, expressive eyes. His neck and shoulders were dark, but his haunches and belly were a rich red brown. He had two white socks on his front and rear right legs. There was a star in the middle of his forehead and a white snip that ran between his nostrils. Muscles rippled beneath his silky coat.
He was bigger than most of the horses on the property, but not large by any of Sam's English hunter standards. She was used to the big European Warmbloods that topped out somewhere between seventeen and eighteen hands. The Thoroughbred lounging in the stall could even be called short, topping out at a shade over sixteen hands.
"That there is Tap, short for Velvet Tapestry. Chris saved him from the killers a couple months ago. Used to be a decent allowance horse on the track, which explains the name. Used to be like I said, till he ran on a bum leg. Pulled his shoulder muscles pretty bad when he went down in the gate. Owners would have kept him, but for the fact that they couldn't get him near a starting gate again. What good is a racehorse that can't race right? So they sent him to auction, which is where Chris outbid a meatpacker for him. He's got all the makings of a nice horse, but he's a foul tempered son of a bitch."
The beautiful bay nuzzled Sam's palm. She looked over at the sharpshooter in disbelief. "Oh yeah, he's a killer." She scratched the off kilter diamond on the middle of the gelding's forehead. Tap leaned into the caress and whickered throatily.
"Okay, so foul tempered was the wrong choice of words. Look Sam, that horse is trouble. He is real sweet till you try to ride him. Then he's, he's," the long haired man struggled to find the correct wording, "he's a firecracker. He throws shit at you just because he can and it's not like he's mean about it. He bolts, he bucks, he rears, he shies. He pulls more pranks than me, Ez, Buck and JD combined."
"He can't be that bad," Sam scoffed.
"Really? Well let's see. He has bucked Buck off, go figure cause I won't. He once saw a particularly vicious looking plastic bag out on the trail and jumped a good ten feet to the side, leaving JD in a puddle. Of course, he then proceeded to pick up the bag and chase after the other horses, waving the thing in the air like a flag. He once bit Ezra's thumb and refused to let go for a good five minutes."
Vin racked his brain for more examples of the horse's antics. "Mind you he didn't break the skin or anything, just wouldn't let go. Then there was the time he took a rather large section out of the farrier's pants. Then there was a time Chris tried riding him, but the horse bloated so big that when Chris went to get on, the saddle ended up beneath the horse. And mind you he does all of this and then looks at you with that innocent 'what on earth did I do' look that he's givin me right now. Oh yeah, and he took Chris's coffee right out of his hand and dumped it over Nathan's head. Then..."
Sam held up her hands to get Vin to stop. She was laughing so hard that tears were streaming down her face. "Please stop. I can't take any more."
Vin smiled softly. "Look, Peso is due for shoes today and I want to talk to the shoer myself, so I arranged for someone to take you out to try whatever horse you choose."
"I have to try him."
"Figured as much. Why do you think I had Chris bring him in?" He started to walk away down the aisle. "You two ought get along just fine! Just don't say I didn't warn you."
"Well you gotta love a horse with character!"
A voice floated out from one of the stalls. "Yes, and that irritating example of an equine has it in spades." Ezra stepped out of the stall across the aisle and two doors down, leading Chaucer behind him.
Sam froze momentarily, then spun toward Vin. "Vin, Ezra? You're having me ride out with Ezra? That's not funny. Vin? I'll end up dead at the side of the trail. Vin don't you laugh at me! I'll get you for this Tanner!"
"Are you quite done now? Chaucer and I both detest waiting."
Sam sighed. The idea of spending the morning on the trail with Standish rankled her stomach, but she desperately wanted to ride. "I'll get his tack."
--
Sam mounted the tall, dark bay after checking his girth twice to make sure it was tight. She eyed the gelding suspiciously. Tap craned his head around to look at her. "Oh don't look at me like that. You know what you did." Tap snorted.
Ezra rode over to her on Chaucer, barely managing to conceal his grin. Sam pushed a lock of soaking wet hair out of her face and glared at the southerner. "Not a word Standish." Tiny rivulets of water ran out of her copper locks and off her shirt sleeves. She swung into the saddle, grimacing as she heard an audible squish when she sat.
It was the second time she had been dumped by the gelding on their ride. Sam was willing to let the first go as an accident, but now she wasn't so sure. In order to avoid a suspicious looking puddle in the middle of the trail, Tap had dodged to the side, underneath a low hanging branch. Sam, who had not been paying enough attention, was swept off the horse over his haunches.
The second time Sam was positive that the horse had dumped her on purpose. After an hour or so on the trail they had stopped to rest and water the horses. When Sam went to get back on Tap was ready. As her leg was arcing over his back he bolted. She ended up perched precariously behind the cantle of the saddle, her left foot still in the stirrup and her left hand on the pommel. She might have managed to stay on, but for the fact that Tap, on his second bucking circuit around the small clearing, stopped dead and then whirled on his hindquarters in the opposite direction. Sam went flying over his shoulder and into the stream.
Ezra gazed at her innocently. "Did I say a word? I've been practically mute our entire ride." Ezra made a small hand gesture to Chaucer. The chestnut threw up his head and whinnied, sounding an awful lot like mocking laughter.
Sam shot Ezra an accusing look. "Your version of mute is more than most people talk in a day."
"See? I am curtailing my verbosity for your sake. Would you like to head back now?"
"Yes Ezra, thank you."
--
"Have a good ride?" Vin smirked, his eyes dancing and full of mischief.
By this time Sam had almost fully dried, the mid morning sun baking off the moisture in her clothes. She smiled sweetly. "Actually Vin it was lovely. You made too much of this horse. He really is charming." There was no way in hell Sam would give Tanner the satisfaction of saying, 'I told you so.'
Vin's eyes narrowed. "Really Ez?"
The lie slipped over the southerner's tongue easily. "Absolutely. Tap and Ms. Hunter got along famously. In fact, she expressed her interest on taking him on her camping trip."
Vin eyed the undercover agent suspiciously. Then he shrugged. He looked aver at Chris, who was coiling a length of rope around his arm. "What do you think Cowboy?"
"I think her riding him means I don't have to. That's good enough for me. Not my place to stop someone with a death wish. Go ahead and stick him in the stall you found him in. He can stay there till you all leave in the morning."
Sam nodded and swung off, landing lightly on her toes. She straightened slowly. On the far side of the horse only Ezra could see her grimace. Her butt, as well as her ego and several other places on her body were bruised from her falls. She took a deep breath and walked toward the barn with all the dignity she could muster and hoped no one could hear the sound of water squishing inside her shoes. Tap, for all his earlier protests, followed like a perfect gentleman.
--
It was eight o'clock in the morning. The sun was just beginning to peak over the mountains to Sam's left. She drove slowly, carefully around the hairpin turns in the road, only half listening to the conversation that the other three women were having.
Inez laughed heartily from the back seat and Sam stopped thinking about the sizeable blue and purple bruise on her hip. She started to listen to the others. "...Think about it Mary, the years of all that pent up emotion. He doesn't date, doesn't even flirt. You could have some real fun with him if you could get him to relax, if you catch my drift." She wiggled her eyebrows.
"Inez!" Mary sounded mortified. The other three women laughed heartily. Mary came back with a dig of her own. "And what of you Inez? Are you ever going to stop leading Buck around by the nose?"
Inez's dark eyes danced. "Personally I don't think I lead him by the nose, but whatever appendage I am leading him from, it's way too much fun to stop." Inez grinned wolfishly, "And maybe someday. After all, Senor Wilmington is a big man, si?" This time they all broke into laughter.
"I don't know Inez," Sam shook her head. "It's not always true what they say. I mean, look at Michelangelo's David, big hands, big feet, so disappointing."
Inez wiped a tear from her eye. "What about you Casey? Give us the dirt on JD."
Casey blushed, a deep crimson more red than her shirt. Casey was by far the youngest of the four women. At twenty-two she was seven years Sam's junior, eight to Inez and more than ten to Mary. She was also the quietest when it came to talking about the Seven. She merely mumbled a response.
"What was that Case? We didn't hear you up here," Sam prodded.
"I said I wouldn't know. JD and I haven't...I mean we never..."
Mary turned in her seat. "You've been dating him for three years." Casey nodded meekly. "And in all that time you never..." Casey shook her head.
She placed her head in her hands. She felt like she might cry or laugh, whichever happened to spill out first. "He believes in waiting till marriage."
Inez gaped. Sam slapped her hand over her mouth, but failed to suppress a snort. Mary reached over to the young woman and patted her hand in a motherly way. "Well that's real sweet Casey."
Sam peered into her rearview mirror and smirked. "Yeah, that's very cute. Very 1940's. The boy's chaste."
Casey shot her a dirty look. "Well it seems to me that only person whose love life we have not discussed is yours Sam."
Samantha shrugged. "I'm lucky. You have no ammo considering that my love life is pretty much nonexistent. In the last ten years the longest relationship I've had with a man was my plutonic friendship with my gay riding instructor." She blushed, realizing exactly how pathetic that sounded, even to her. "Oh look, we're here. Pity we can't finish this conversation." She guided the truck and trailer into the dirt parking lot at the trail head.
For the time being their conversation was put on hold. Each woman was busy unloading her horse and gear from the back of the trailer. On top of the four riding horses they had brought an ancient Appaloosa mare to serve as a pack horse.
They were ready within an hour and started up the trail with Mary taking the lead. Casey followed behind her, leading Spot, the pack horse. Mary and Casey were the only two to have ever visited the cabin before. Inez followed on Clyde and Sam and Tap brought up the rear. Had anyone bothered to look behind them, they would have seen a rather interesting argument taking place between horse and rider. Tap wanted to be up front and made Sam know it. Eventually they settled upon a compromise; Tap would stay behind the other horses so long as Sam kept letting him steal bites of grass along the trail.
They traveled steadily upward for the better part of three hours. Sam felt herself get lightheaded as the air grew thinner. Eventually Casey threw on a light sweatshirt. No one talked, each of the women contemplating things to themselves. Casey watched the scenery, Mary watched the trail, and Inez thought about her bar. Sam couldn't help wonder what the rest of the Seven were doing right then...
--
Nathan boarded a flight for New York. The lanky ex medic crammed himself into the window seat in business class beside a fat man and a woman with a bawling baby. He was finally on vacation. His friends had no wounds and no impending battles to be fought. He was free to relax. He had no worries.
He would see Rain for the first time in three months. In a few short hours they would be together again, wandering about New York city. He closed his eyes and tried to picture her smiling face. Eventually he drifted off, and Denver was left behind.
**
Josiah too had chosen not to go down to Durango with his friends. He packed a small suitcase with clothes and gifts. He would be away for a few days, then return, leaving him nearly a week to get in touch with his spiritual side.
He just wanted to visit his sister first. Josiah smiled as he picked up the small box of chocolates, Hannah's favorite. It had been too long since he had visited the special home where his sister lived. He lingered by the door, breathing deeply the hot, dry air and sighed. Vacations were nice.
**
The rest of team Seven were gathered together at Chris's ranch, packing for their fishing trip. They planned to leave the next morning, even thought they all knew it was wishful thinking. Someone would have to drag Ezra out of bed and throw him in the shower if they ever wanted to make their nine AM departure time.
Vin relished the chance to spend some quality time with nature. He loved camping, fishing and hunting with nothing but his knife and his wits. He couldn't wait to tackle some of the class four rapids that were sure to be churning in the river. His eyes practically glowed as he thought of it.
Fishing, hiking, camping in an area with no civilization in sight. The very idea made Ezra's stomach turn. He held a great appreciation for the amenities of modern life.
He rationalized his coming to the fact that Maude, his rather overbearing mother had threatened by phone to make a visit the next time he had a vacation. There was nothing he wanted less than to spend a week listening to his mother tell him exactly how he was wasting his life. But then there was that nagging little voice in his head that told him that he was only kidding himself. Spending time with his surrogate family, although he would never openly admit it, was something he looked forward to, even cherished. And despite their arguments to the contrary, he suspected that his friends would be disappointed not to hear him bitch about the weather, the situation and camping in general. They had simply come to expect Ezra's half hearted protests.
Chris stuffed his pack neatly and efficiently. He could finally relax. He would have his friends around him, his family. He could relax with Buck and JD. He could hike with Vin. He could lose all the money he had to Ezra their first night in camp playing poker. Money he had saved just for that reason. He truly hoped that one day he would beat his smooth talking undercover agent, even though he knew his chances were slim to none.
JD didn't like camping all that much. He didn't even like fishing. What he liked was the fact that he could spend some time with Vin, Chris and the others. They could just be there, together, and that was enough for him.
Buck wasn't thinking about the trip at all. He was thinking about Inez and the others. He looked up at his friends. "What do you think the girls are doing right now?"
Every one of his friends shot him a dirty look. "Don't you ever think about anything besides sex?" JD asked.
"No," came unified response from the other three.
"Can I help..." Buck began.
"Here it comes," Vin rolled his eyes.
"...if the ladies cannot deal with..."
"He says it and I'll hit him, by God I mean it," Chris grumbled.
"...my animal magnetism?"
"HE said it," Ezra commented dryly. "I believe it is time for you to carry through on your threat Mr. Larabee." Vin, Chris, Ezra and JD traded glances. Buck sat on the armchair grinning like an idiot and staring out into space. Four pillows hit him at the same time.
"Rest assured Mr. Wilmington that our friends of the female persuasion will not be having an enjoyable evening."
"Why is that Ez?"
"Because unless I am sadly mistaken, those are thunderclouds rolling in as we speak." The other three men turned to witness the oncoming storm. Somewhere, deep inside the leaden gray skies lightning flashed. The clouds settled in to swallow the setting sun, and cast Larabee's ranch in a shroud of darkness.
--
Something felt wrong. She felt it deep inside, a hard knot in her stomach, and it was more than just the thunderstorm. The light from the fire flickered over her features as she stood by the window, staring out into the rain. Casey, Inez and Mary seemed oblivious to any sign of danger, and Sam had to wonder if spending so much time around the Seven was making her paranoid.
Mary left Casey and Inez by the fireplace. They had been tending to the horses when the storm hit and all had ended up sopping wet. It was one of the fiercest storms Mary had seen in all her years living in Colorado. The rain fell in sheets and there were gale force winds tearing at the branches of the trees.
"Something wrong?"
"Yes, no, maybe. Any more luck getting in touch with your mystery man in the trench coat?"
Mary stole a glance at the others. "Nope. He hasn't been answering my pages and I can't reach him by his cell." She shrugged. "He's probably keeping a low profile. I'll try again when we get back to the city."
"Your suspect, what is it you have on him?"
Mary shrugged. "It's not so much what I have on him, it's what I've found about Bartonelli that makes this interesting. My informant was doling out bank statements and work orders. Bartonelli was still pretty new to the drug game. He received a shipment some eight years ago, but at the time he didn't have a supplier, not even waiting buyers. But despite that, he manages to have one of the biggest cartels in the west set up within a year? I don't think so. My informant was going to tell me more, but well, you know."
"Why do you think he was framed? Who would gain from that?"
"The person who he had to step on to set up his cartel. I just need the name and the pieces will start falling into place.
Lightening flashed outside. A small movement a few hundred yards away caught Sam's eye. "Did you see that?"
"See what?"
Sam didn't respond. Her eyes swept through the darkness until another flash of light illuminated the forest around the cabin. This time Sam was positive she saw something, someone, closer than before. The lightening tore into the muted sky. Sam counted four approaching the cabin. "That. Mary, I think you might be closer than you realize."
Mary had seen the attackers as well. Her pale blue eyes were alive and wide. "Oh my God. Do you really think they're after me?"
Sam cocked her head to the right and shrugged. "That'd be my guess. As far as I know I haven't pissed anyone off that badly in a while. Inez, Casey, we got trouble."
The other two were on their feet in an instant. "What's up?"
"I'm not sure. Get to the horses and start away from the cabin. I'll stay here."
"Do you have your gun?" Casey inquired.
"No Case I don't have my gun. What the hell do I need a 9 mm for on a camping trip? To have target practice with the local flora and fauna?" Sam snapped.
"I don't know, maybe a situation like this?"
"What exactly is a situation like this? Situations like this don't happen to normal people. Now go, all of you, out the window in back." Mary hesitated. "Mary they're after you. You need to get out of here."
With a grim set to her mouth, Mary nodded resignedly. She pushed Casey to the window. Inez hadn't moved. "You can't fight them alone, unarmed Sam."
"I don't really think I can fight them at all Inez, just buy you guys some time. You think two of us are gonna stand a better chance than one, unarmed?"
Inez strode over to the cabin's only closet. "But Senora, I won't be unarmed." She hefted a large wooden bat from the closet floor. "I saw it when I put away my coat." Sam had to smile.
A few tense moments later the front door burst open. Six men, soaking and clad completely in black rushed in. 'These guys look like they shop at the same store as Larabee,' Sam thought wryly. Inez brandished the bat, shaking it threateningly at anyone who came too close.
The last man to come in was of medium height and build. His eyes were brown and his hair line receding. His nose was a little too large for his narrow face and hooked to the left, like it had been broken and badly reset. His expression was pinched and angry. His whole person would have been completely unremarkable, but for the long, jagged scar that began on his forehead, jumped his eye and ended just above his cheekbone.
"Where is Travis? And the girl?" he wasn't speaking to Sam or Inez, rather to his men, as if he was accusing them of some failure.
Samantha smiled sweetly. "I don't think we know any man named Travis, do we Inez? Certainly not with a child."
"No, I don't think we do," Inez answered breezily.
For the first time the man glanced at the two women. He strode over to Sam, his eyes boring into hers. She looked back calmly, icily. He stood less than two feet from her, and she could smell his putrid breath. He looked at her for a long time. "I don't know you," he finally stated.
"Well I guess that puts us on equal footing then, seeing as I don't know you either. I would be appreciative of you leaving however."
The man with a scar sort of smiled. He continued to stare into Sam's eyes as he barked orders. "Find Travis and the girl. They'll be on horseback. Subdue her," he waved his hand in the general direction of Inez. Sam heard the bat hit the wall with a crunch and smiled. Inez wasn't about to give up without a fight.
The man reached for Sam's arm and she reacted. She grabbed his wrist and yanked him forward. AS he stumbled toward her she used his momentum and her hip to flip him onto the ground. Then, faster than Sam would have thought possible, she was lying on the ground next to where he had fallen. She realized at that moment that she was outclassed, and would lucky to come away walking. 'You really got to pick your fights better,' she scolded herself.
She rolled away from him, narrowly avoiding a boot to her throat. She stood and he came to her, a blur of fists and feet. Sam held her arms in front of her as a shield as she was backed further and further into the corner of the cabin. She managed to catch one of the man's kicks at her hip and she twisted his ankle, sincerely enjoying the grunt of pain the man let out.
It went on like that for a few more minutes. The man, fighting aggressively and delivering a set of painful, well placed blows. Sam defended for all she was worth, but she was on the losing end of the fight and she knew it. She only managed to hit him square twice. She on the other hand possessed a split lip, bruised ribs and aching knee for her efforts.
Sam was on her knees, her left arm stretched across her midsection and gasping for breath. She saw his feet approach and stop just in front of her. Sam looked up, her tongue running over her teeth as she tasted the metallic flavor of blood welling in her mouth.
"You're not bad." Sam wondered if that was meant as a compliment. "Not good, but not bad. You know Chris Larabee?"
Sam spit at the man's feet. "If I do?"
"Tell him that I'm back. Tell him I have his dear, sweet Mary and that she will remain safe, for the time being. Tell him I'm back for retribution, for my brother, and for this." His traced the ugly scar with his forefinger. A shower of sparks exploded behind Sam's eyes. She felt herself spinning into blackness, then nothingness engulfed her.
--
She blinked, slowly. She groaned. Every part of her body ached and she struggled to remember where she was. She pulled her left arm out from under her body and flexed her fingers, slowly working out the cramps. The cabin. Mary. Inez. Casey. She struggled to her feet. She was alone.
Everything cracked as she limped to the cabin door. Her back, her knees, her sides hurt with a dull, continuous ache. She pulled open the door. The sun had not yet risen over the mountains. She swore softly. The rain had washed away any footprints the attackers might have left. 'Chris, I have to tell him.' She hobbled to the corral.
"Typical," she muttered. "Five mounts to choose from and they leave me with the trail horse from hell. Just typical." She tried to whistle, but it was useless, she couldn't even pucker. "Damn it Tap. Get your big bay butt over here." The gelding ambled over, whickering happily.
It took Sam nearly an hour to tack up the fidgety Thoroughbred, but eventually the job was done. She hauled herself into the saddle and pointed him back down the trail they had come up the day before. The rain had made the trail slick and dangerous. Sam gave Tap his head and worried about staying in the saddle. Every step felt like someone was rattling her teeth.
Tap picked his way down the mountain with almost no guidance from his rider. Sam was still feeling the effects of her lost battle. Her eyes kept threatening to flutter shut.
Horse and rider reached the truck and trailer a few hours later. At least the sun was out and had stopped Sam from shaking like a leaf in the saddle. A familiar, and welcome sight to Tap greeted them when they arrived. Clyde, Buck's gray munched quietly on a patch of grass by the trailer. His saddle hung haphazardly to one side of the horse. The gelding looked up as they reached the trailhead.
Sam slithered off Tap. She reached for the door handle to the truck. 'Shit! The keys! Mary had the keys.' She rested her head on the cool glass. "Fuck it," she muttered. Sam picked a stone off the ground that was approximately the size of a softball. She backed away from the truck and hurled the rock at the window. The horses started at the sound of breaking glass, but neither was ready to leave their grazing spot.
Sam opened the cab door. She knew they had left a cell phone in the truck. She found it in the glove department. She dialed the number to Chris's ranch house, hoping against hope that the ATF agents had not managed to leave on time. Oh God she was tired. She slid to the ground, unable to stand of her own power for any longer. The phone buzzed in her ear.
"Vin? It's Sam. No, no ...I'm okay, sort of. ...Yeah. We've got trouble Vin... No, not on the phone. Bring the horses.... How soon? ...Uh huh, then I'll see you in two. And Vin? Bring a first aid kit." She slapped the cell shut and turned off the power. They were coming, thank God. She was just so tired. Her eyes fluttered, maybe just for a while...
--
"Ouch, damn it! Do you mind?" Sam yanked her head back as she felt the stinging sensation of wound cleaner seeping into the cut above her eye. Sam was still fairly groggy, Vin having woken her only a few minutes earlier. Apparently after their brief exchange on the phone, Sam had fallen into a dreamless sleep.
"Well I apologize Ms. Hunter that I do not have Mr. Jackson's skills in the medical field." The southerner steadfastly pulled Sam back to where he could dab antiseptic on her head.
Sam glared at him. "Nor do you have Nathan's bedside manner." Ezra didn't respond. "You're enjoying this aren't you?"
Ezra flashed a small smile. "I must admit that this particular activity does hold a certain appeal. You actually admitting that you need help is such a rare event. Now hold still while I finish this."
Before he could move however, Chris, Buck and JD arrived with a four horse trailer they had borrowed from a nearby rancher. Chris parked and JD bounded out of the cab. The young man rushed over to Ezra and the ever reluctant Sam looking concerned and apprehensive.
He skidded to a stop a few feet away. "Lordy Sam what the hell happened? Are you okay?"
"I got my ass kicked JD, what does it look like? And no I'm not fine. I hurt and your friend is taking great pleasure in prolonging my discomfort." Sam snapped. JD felt mildly taken aback. Sam was not usually so angry.
"Don't mind her JD. I'd say that being walloped in a fight has put our colleague in a disgruntled state of mind," he scolded. He put down the cotton swab and stood, brushing off his pants. "You most likely have a concussion."
"I'd guess it's more than likely. And I didn't mean to snap at you JD. I'm just a little out of sorts about all this."
"Casey?"
She shook her head. "I don't know. They left and got on the horses, but I don't know what happened after that. The rain washed away the trail and I couldn't follow."
Chris strode up to the little group. Buck, who had just finished off loading the horses, trotted along behind him. "Where is Vin?"
"Takin a look around on Clyde. He should be back soon."
"You gonna be okay Sam?"
"I'll be fine Chris," she assured him. "I'll be all sorts of black and blue in a few days, but fine."
Buck grunted. "Hate to tell you this, but you're all sorts of black and blue now. How many guys were there? And what the hell did they hit you with?"
Sam sighed. "Six men, but I only scrapped it out with one. And he didn't hit me with anything but his hands and feet. This guy was good. Better than me. Better than I've seen in a long while. He says he knows you though Chris."
All eyes turned to Larabee. "Me? I thought this was about Mary's story?"
"I thought so too, but, I don't know. He wanted Mary, that much was obvious, but he seemed to know Inez and Casey too. He comes in and kind of looks around like he knows what's what until he comes to me. He says, 'I don't know you.' I think he planned this whole thing to get to you guys."
"What did he look like? What else did he say?" Chris peppered her with questions.
"Medium height, medium build, brown hair, brown eyes," she shrugged. "You know, if you brought along mug shots this would be easier. He was just, ordinary Chris. And it's not like I'm the best person to ask at the moment. My head feels like oatmeal."
Chris frowned. "There wasn't anything specific?"
"Had a crooked nose. And uh, he said he was back for retribution." Chris gave her a sideways glance. "Something about his brother and this real long scar he had on his face. Ring any bells?"
Chris's face drained of color. "Unbelievable." His cohorts looked at him questioningly. "It was like ten years ago. I was still working homicide in the Denver PD. I got handed this one case. Linked the death of this gang banger to two drug dealers in the area, brothers. Apparently the guy had been trying to sell on their turf and they weren't happy about it. I have never seen a man as messed up as this guy. They beat him till he couldn't move and then gutted him with a hunting blade. There had been a few other murders with the same MO in the past couple of years too."
Sam grimaced at the description. "That was the case I first met Mary. She was this young investigative reporter at the time. I didn't know her well or anything, just met her in passing, but still. Anyway, me and my partner track these guys to a hotel in Gunnison. We found the youngest one in their room. He must have seen us coming because he was ready for us. My partner went in first and uh, I don't suppose he ever knew what hit him. I managed to take down the guy though, but it was too late for Dave."
Chris rubbed his hand over his mouth as he gathered his thoughts. "The guy died on the way to the hospital. Well, his brother wasn't too keen on that and blamed me. Came after me a few weeks later in my apartment, this was about a month before I met Sarah. I don't think I could've beat him in a fair fight, but I managed to get a knife off my counter. During the trial he went a little crazy. Threatened me. Said he'd kill me and everyone I cared about before he was done. Mary even interviewed him for her paper. I still remember the story in the paper. I thought he was locked up for good, but I guess not."
"Do you honestly believe that this man is one and the same Mr. Larabee?"
"Yeah Ez, it makes sense. If it is Lucas we're all in a world of trouble. The man's insane. If he gets the chance he'll make you bleed, then he'll make you die."
End Chapter Two
Like it? I hope so. Thanks for reading.