Reaper (Montana Bounty Hunters Book 1) Read online

  “So you can make spaghetti?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Spaghetti’s only the noodles. I make a variety of sauces—bolognaise, marinara, alfredo... I also make lasagna and homemade pizza.”

  “Hope I’m here long enough for you to cook for me.” As soon as she said it, she wished she could take back the statement, because his easy, open expression changed to something a lot less readable. She stood and gathered their dishes. “I’ll put these in the dishwasher. I already emptied it.” For a few minutes, she kept busy, rinsing and stacking dishes, with her back turned to him, because she didn’t want him to know that her eyes were beginning to fill.

  The thought of this ending wasn’t something she wanted to face. Not yet. She’d been living in the moment, but now she’d placed an expiration date on this...happiness filling her chest.

  A chair scraped the floor. His footsteps approached.

  When his arms encircled her from behind, she froze for a second, before melting against his chest.

  He placed a kiss on her cheek. “Guess you’ll have to stay long enough to taste everything I’ve got,” he whispered in her ear.

  Chapter 7

  The phone rang just before dawn.

  Reaper disentangled his arms from around Carly’s warm body and reached for his cell. “Yeah, Brian. Do you know what fucking time it is?” he muttered, wiping a hand over his face.

  “Sorry to interrupt your beauty sleep, but Fetch has a special job.”

  Reaper yawned loudly and sat on the edge of the mattress, knowing a “special job” and the time of the call meant sleep was done. “Okay, what’s up?”

  “Your Class C license still current?”

  Reaper frowned in the darkness. “Yeah, what does he need?”

  “A semi appears to have been abandoned down the road in Poison at a self-storage business. A military transport. The job’s seventy-five thousand if the cargo’s still in the back. Ten, if it’s not.”

  Holy crap. Reaper whistled. He glanced at his digital clock. “I can be there by six AM. Do they know how long it’s been sitting?”

  “Their dispatch only just started paying attention to the vehicle’s GPS tracker when the load didn’t make it to the guard headquarters in Helena.”

  “That’s a helluva a detour. Too far to be any accident.”

  “Yeah, they’re pretty sure it’s a heist. The rig’s been parked about an hour. It’s probably already empty. I’ll send you the coordinates.”

  “I’ll be on the road in five.” He ended the call then glanced at Carly, who was stretching on the bed beside him. “You hear?”

  “We leave in five,” she said, a yawn stretching her words. “You can give me the details once we’re on the road.”

  Reaper bent and pulled a lock of her hair. “You can stay. Get some sleep.” Although, she matched him for stamina, he’d been pretty rough on her body. Neither had gotten much shut-eye, because they’d been so busy gettin’ busy.

  Her eyebrows rose. “Think I’m gonna miss seeing you drive a big rig?” She shot up off the bed and padded to her open suitcase, sitting beside his dresser. “I’ll be inside the Expedition in four.” She already pulled out jeans and a long-sleeve tee.

  His girl had game. Grinning, Reaper headed to the bathroom.

  Once they were on the road, he checked the time and mashed the gas pedal.

  She reached for the handle above the passenger-side window. “You’re gonna get a ticket.”

  “Cops around here know I wouldn’t speed unless I’m on the job. My driving make you nervous?”

  She released the handle. “No. Reflex, I guess. I don’t trust many people’s driving, but I do yours.”

  He filled her in on what he knew from Brian’s phone call. On a straight stretch of road, he unclipped and handed her his cell. “I can get us to Poison, but once we’re there, I’ll need you to give me directions. I input the GPS coordinates.”

  “Is this semi-truck recovery something you do often?” she asked.

  Reaper shook his head. “Not much call for it this far from any major city, but my license has come in handy a time or two. Recoveries don’t usually pay this well. Mostly, I’m looking for trucks where the driver abandons it, because he’s busy getting drunk. One time, I found a rig on the side of the road, completely stripped—all the way down to the wheels. Had to call a big tow truck to haul it back to the owner.”

  “It’s an interesting life you lead, Reaper Stenberg.” She shook her head.

  “You learning enough to write that book?”

  She turned toward him. “I’ve got enough good stuff for a whole damn series.”

  He didn’t know whether to laugh or cringe. “I thought writers pounded away on typewriters. I haven’t even seen you crack open a laptop.”

  “Laptop’s in the bottom of my suitcase.” She patted the knapsack at her feet. “I have an iPad in here I could use, but I’m not ready to write. I’m still doing research. I like to immerse myself in my world to get to know it and my characters first. Everything else, my plot and the developing stakes, just kind of falls into place as I write.”

  He gave an exaggerated shudder. “Texting even drives me nuts. A hundred-forty characters can frustrate me. I can’t imagine writing a book.”

  “I didn’t know I could, but when I left the Army, I had these stories swirling in my head. One morning, I got tired of filling out job applications and opened a Word document. By that evening, I had a complete short story. After that, I was hooked. Of course, that first story was complete shit.”

  “I don’t read much, other than serial killer and real crime books every now and then.”

  She laughed. “Should I be worried?”

  After checking the mirrors for trailing traffic, he chuckled. “Not unless you’re a killer. I can spot the psychological traits a mile away.”

  “Well, my feelings won’t be hurt if you never read one of my stories.” She grimaced. “Might be better if you never read my bounty hunters books. It could get embarrassing.”

  He rather liked conversing with her and watching her expressions by the dashboard lights. “So long as the heroine isn’t laughing while she’s giving a blowjob...”

  Her eyebrows lowered. “I already said, I don’t write porn.”

  He shot her a glance, his eyebrows waggling. “Romance books can get kind of racy...”

  “And how would you know?”

  “I had a girlfriend who used to read me passages in bed. Things she wanted to try.”

  Carly giggled. “Is that how you got to be so damn good?”

  At the sound of her breathy voice, he cleared his throat. “Maybe we should change the subject, seeing as we don’t have time to pull over.”

  “Okay...how did you get a Class C license?” She grabbed her notebook from her bag and set it on her lap. “Were you a truck driver before you became a badass bounty hunter?”

  The way she said “badass bounty hunter” didn’t relieve the pressure in his groin…not by a heartbeat. Although, he was pretty sure she could read a passage from the Bible and still make him hot. “I got my training in the Marine Corps. Just another specialization. Mostly, I was just a grunt with a gun.”

  “You see any action?”

  The back of his neck tensed, and he drew a deep breath. “Enough.”

  “Don’t want to talk about it?” she asked, her voice softening.

  “I did two tours in Afghanistan. Mostly in the mountains, hunting Al Qaeda.” Her nod said she understood what that meant.

  “So, the license...”

  Glad she didn’t want to hear more about his time in the sandbox, he grunted. She seemed to like that sound, because it always made her mouth twitch. “When I got out, I needed a job. I had the experience, and all I needed was the piece of paper. I tested. Only spent six months on the road before I decided the life wasn’t for me. I was bored silly.” When she yawned, he shot her a quick glance. “Hey, why don’t you get more sleep? We’ll be there in abo
ut forty.”

  “Sure you don’t need company to stay awake? You didn’t get any more sleep than I did.”

  “I’m used to short nights. My jacket’s behind you.” He lifted an elbow to point. “You can roll it up for a pillow.”

  With reluctance showing in her frown, she reached behind the seats for his quilted flannel jacket. She brought it to her nose. “Mmm. Smells like you.”

  He knew exactly what she meant. Just the smell of her shampoo warmed him inside.

  “I’ll just close my eyes for a few.” The seat angled back several inches.

  “Go to sleep, Carly.”

  A minute later, she snored.

  After another minute of whining tires and air whooshing from the vents, he realized the drive wasn’t near as much fun without her chattering beside him. With her endless curiosity, she kept him on his toes, following the constant segues their conversations took.

  Yeah, he liked riding with her at his side. Hell, he liked Carly Wyatt. He would have liked having her for a friend, if they hadn’t slept together. But that had been inevitable. After one look at her lush figure and pretty face, any intentions he’d had of keeping her at arm’s length for the week had been sunk.

  The fact she’d been the one to initiate sex still made him smile. The woman charged after what she wanted. He was just happy she wanted him.

  He rather liked waking up with her in his bed. Funny, because he’d never before brought a woman to his home. He’d always bedded down at their places. Less chance of the ladies leaving things behind that required them staying past their expiration to pack their shit. He wasn’t proud that he felt that way. That he’d never felt a connection deep enough he regretted being booted out the door.

  But Carly was different—smarter, and fierce in her own way. A lot like his partner, Jamie. He thought the two women would get along like gangbusters if they ever met. That thought got him considering how he might make that happen. He wondered if Carly might agree to be his “plus one” for the wedding, then blinked and let out a slow breath. The possibility didn’t make him itch...

  Reaper turned on the radio and kept the volume low, listening to a news channel—anything rather than continuing with plans for a future Carly probably didn’t want.

  He woke her once he passed the Poison, Montana city limits sign.

  She brought her seat upright and activated his phone to get directions to the truck. Minutes later, they turned into ABC Storage’s parking lot.

  Reaper drove slowly, halting at the end of the first row to gaze down the line of storage units, making sure no one else was about. They found the truck behind the second row, tucked in beside the garbage bins. The back of the rig faced them, a heavy-duty padlock still securing the shackle. Whoa, did we just hit the jackpot?

  “The lock’s still there. That’s a good sign, right?” Carly sat forward in her seat.

  “You stay put.” He let himself out of the SUV and stepped to the rear of his vehicle, opened the back gate, and rooted beneath the various tools he kept for a bolt cutter.

  Carly joined him as he strode to the back of the big rig.

  “Thought I said—”

  “I heard you. But I want to see what’s inside, too.”

  He handed her the tool. “I’m checking the cab first, to make sure the driver’s not there sleeping off a hangover.” Although, he didn’t really think the driver had gotten disoriented and wound up in this podunk town by accident. He pulled his Glock from his holster, ignoring Carly’s widening eyes.

  Standing at the rear of the rig, he glanced over his shoulder. “Keep a lookout,” he whispered. “You see anyone approach, you jump in my truck and book it.”

  She shook her head. “I won’t leave you.”

  “I can take care of myself.” As he moved down the side of the gray trailer, he kept his weapon in front of him and breathed slow. He was pretty sure the driver was long gone, but he’d learned not to take any situation for granted. Thieves were stupid, but they could also be deadly.

  At the door, he reached up and quietly flipped the door handle, listening intently for any noises inside the vehicle, but he heard nothing. He stepped up to dart a glance inside the cab. The space was empty, so he climbed inside and searched behind the seats, looking for anything that might explain why the driver had dumped his rig. Other than trash from half-eaten meals, he found nothing. The keys were tucked atop the sun visor.

  He climbed down and headed back to Carly. “I’ve got keys. Let’s see what he was hauling.” Using the bolt cutters, he cut the lock. When he opened the back gate, his chest expanded. The trailer was packed floor-to-ceiling with plastic-wrapped cargo cartons marked laptops. “Holy fuck. Babe, we’ve got to get out of here quick. Whoever’s behind this job isn’t giving up a haul like this without a fight. Has to be worth more than a million.” He closed the gate and secured it with another lock he’d carried in his pocket. “Come with me.”

  Back at his Expedition, he pulled out a pair of walkie-talkie radios. “Here, the in-ear devices’ll be useless on the road. They don’t have the range.” He clipped a small radio to her belt beside her hip, and then slid the wire over her ear for the earpiece he tucked into her ear. He attached the mic button to the collar of her tee, dropped the cord inside her shirt, and plugged it into the radio. “If you keep close enough, we won’t have to use our phones.” He donned his own radio and earpiece and turned it on. Then he pressed the mic button. “You hear me?”

  She nodded and smiled. “Loud and clear.”

  “Only one of us can talk at a time. So pause whenever you want me to say something back.”

  “Will do. I promise I’ll stay close, and I won’t leave a scratch on your paint.” She bounced on her toes. “This is exciting—we’re stealing a rig from a gang of crooks!”

  He gave her a narrowed glare. “This recovery job isn’t fun, sweetheart. It’s damn dangerous.”

  “Got it.”

  Her eager expression didn’t change a bit. He sighed. “Drive my truck between the storage unit rows and wait for me to back out. Once we’re on the road, we’re not stopping for anything until we hit Helena.” He hoped like hell the semi had the fuel to make good on that promise.

  Carly bobbed her head. “My bladder’ll last.”

  A grin tugged at his mouth. “Good to know.” He bent and kissed her hard. “Stay safe.”

  “Babe, I’ve got this.” She gave him a wink.

  Once they were again on the two-lane highway, heading south toward the interstate, Carly’s initial excitement morphed into a bad case of nerves. Which only got worse when they turned onto the interstate and met more traffic. Any one of the vehicles they passed could hold the bad guys. All the scenarios of what might happen along the way played in her head. She gripped the steering wheel so hard her knuckles turned white.

  Reaper’s warning that their situation was “damn dangerous” repeated in her head.

  “You’re not talking. Anything wrong?” Reaper’s voice sounded in her ear.

  His drawling tone usually incited her into doing something to make him smile. She didn’t feel very funny right now. She pressed her mic button. “I’m here.”

  A loud exhalation sounded. “You nervous?”

  “D’ya think? I’m following a million-dollar cargo down the road that some gang intended to rob.” She glanced on the rear view mirror for headlights but saw none. Sunlight was peeking over the horizon.

  “I should have called Dag or Jamie. Hell, if you like, turn around. I don’t need the company.”

  “And leave you without backup?”

  “Baby, you are not my backup. Anything goes sideways, all I’ll expect from you is to call the cops and get the hell away.”

  “Then why did you let me come?” A long silence followed, and she wondered if he’d forgotten to press his button.

  “I let you come because I’m selfish. I like your company.”

  “You do?” She couldn’t help the happy lift in her voice
.

  “Just wish I’d had a clue what was inside the truck.”

  “How much longer to Helena?”

  “Sticking to the speed limit, the drive will be a couple hours.”

  “And if you don’t?”

  “You up to flooring it?” he asked, a hint of a smile in his voice.

  “Hey, I drove in downtown Denver. I can handle a little speed.”

  The truck in front of her pulled away. She gunned the engine to keep pace. “Think they’re behind us?”

  “Don’t know which direction they’d come from. But they know which roads we’re taking. They know we’re heading straight to Helena with the load. Choices are limited because of the size of this vehicle. I’m not too worried so long as we’re I-90, but we exit near Garrison to cut across to Helena. Highway 12 is two lanes. It doesn’t get much traffic, and it’s narrow. ”

  Her heart pounded faster. “So, if they’re following us, that’s where they’d hit us?”

  “Me, babe. Not you. Don’t even think about intervening. You find a safe place to pull over. Make a call. That’s all I want you to do. Hear me?”

  The serious tone in his voice sobered her. She nodded, but realized he couldn’t see her agreement. She pressed her button. “Yeah. I call.”

  “I wouldn’t worry too much. We’re a long way gone. Once they realize the truck’s not where it was stashed, they’ll probably scatter.”

  Her hands started aching, so she eased her hold. Doing so somehow helped the rest of her body relax. “So, after we leave Helena...?”

  “I’ll have to stop by Kalispell and turn in the paperwork to Fetch. The office’s on our way. He’ll want to get it completed and filed so we get paid.”

  Happy to be thinking about the time after this job was done, she asked, “What are you doing with your cut?”

  “I don’t know. I need to rent a bush hog.”

  “That a bulldozer?”

  “Yeah. Something to knock down some brush and take out some stumps. My place needs a yard.”

  She knew what he was doing—switching to another subject to keep her calm. And she appreciated the effort, knowing he wasn’t the most talkative man. “Does it dig holes?”