Читать книгу Renegade Protector - Nico Rosso - Страница 11

Chapter Two

His lungs burned, his knuckles were scraped and bleeding, his damp jacket soaked a chill toward his aching muscles, and Ty still wanted to chase down those two bastards and make them pay for what they just did to Mariana Balducci.

It had been harder to leave her alone in the parking lot just then than it was to run into her burning shop. But he wasn’t ready to try to explain himself to any local cops, and it was best if he stayed off everyone’s radar until he had a better handle on who exactly was threatening Mariana and her property.

One detail he picked up tonight: the bald man could fight. His moves were from the street, not a cardio class, and intended to do maximum harm. Ty knew that Mariana had to be tough to run an orchard and her shop alone, but if the bald man had got ahold of her... Ty couldn’t consider that outcome.

He watched her interact with the two officers, both white men, from the patrol car, reassured by how she stood strong, gesturing more with anger than defeat. He stood in the deep shadows between an old tree and a cinder block wall on the far side of the parking lot, hidden from the cops’ view, even when they looked around to follow the story she described.

But the officers’ search of the asphalt with their flashlights wasn’t as thorough as Ty wanted. If he’d been in his jurisdiction, every resource would’ve been in that parking lot working inch by inch, then in the shop once the fire was out. As it was, his San Francisco badge probably wouldn’t get him more than a polite cup of coffee with the chief and little more info than a press release.

According to any county and city authority, his business in Rodrigo was unofficial. But when it came to the underground organization he was working to establish, he was on a focused assignment. The mission was Mariana, and he wished he’d had a chance to really explain who he was and why he’d shown up to help.

Hell, when he’d first walked into her shop, he’d wished that he was in her town for completely different reasons. The scents of apples and spices had surrounded him, warming the moment he locked eyes with her. All the data he’d collected from the police report and internet searches didn’t prepare him for the strength of her presence. He knew the woman had been under the pressure of intimidation for months, and still she wasn’t crushed. Her quick assessment of him revealed a sharp mind. Cautious, yes, but also ready to absorb the world around her. And there was the spark in her eyes. Heat, deeper in her glance. He wanted to know what it was that lit her brown eyes up like that. But he was in her shop for the mission, not to chase down a possibility of a connection with a woman he’d just met. Instead of finding out just how deep the light in her eyes went, he spent the evening scraping his knuckles on another man’s face and running headlong into a fire.

The police officers in the parking lot with Mariana finished their insufficient search and motioned for her to follow them around the front of the building. The angriest flickering of the fire had diminished and it seemed like the firefighters were close to putting it out. Ty tensed, watching Mariana walk away and out of sight. He unclenched his fist. That magnetic pull he felt toward her must’ve just been his professional protective instinct. The bad guys had already made two tries for her tonight. They’d definitely be back.

Now that the parking lot was empty, Ty took out his phone and thanked his diligence in getting a waterproof case. It wasn’t until he tried to key in the code for his phone that he noticed how much his fingers shook. Still cold. And the adrenaline continued to urge him into action. He calmed his fingers as much as he could to unlock his phone and dim the screen. But his thirst to fight only increased as he typed a brief text outlining what had happened this night. Those bastards had come after Mariana and if he hadn’t been there...

The text went to two people in his nascent organization. Vincent and Stephanie would distribute the information further if necessary. Helping Mariana was the number one priority. His secondary goal would have to wait until he knew just how bad things were. But there would be no quitting. He’d told himself that before showing up in Rodrigo. Seeing his ancestor in that photo on her shop wall had steeled his resolve. Standing along the ridge in the old picture were the men and women who had founded Frontier Justice over 120 years ago. They’d banded together to help the abandoned, forgotten and hated people the system ignored. Frontier Justice had to be revived. Mariana’s life depended on it.

* * *

THE FIRE WAS OUT, but the trouble was far from over. Mariana stood outside the broken windows of her shop, nose stinging with the smell of damp burnt wood and plastic. Two police officers stood close by, one of them her ex, Pete. He’d been professional and attentive during his questions, but she still felt his reserve, a by-product of her breaking up with him last year. He hadn’t even been the one to offer her the blanket she had draped over her wet shoulders. His partner, Jones, had done that with an apologetic look in his eyes. In the store, firefighters wrapped up their gear, boots sloshing in the water pooled on the floor where her customers were supposed to be walking. Hot, angry tears welled in her eyes. Her work, her life and her history were being destroyed. Ty had asked her to stand and fight, but now that he’d disappeared, taking his confidence with him, she wasn’t sure how.

“Over here.” Miguel, the lieutenant firefighter, waved her and the two police officers into the shop. Small-town living. She’d graduated high school with both Miguel and Jones, Pete being one year older than all of them.

It was ridiculous to open the front door of her shop while the windows were completely broken out, but she had to maintain some normalcy. Flanked by Pete and Jones, she stepped to where Miguel pointed at the floor. The firefighter indicated a long dark object. “They probably threw this first to break the window.” It was a crowbar. “Then this came through with the fuel.” Melted glass gaped like a screaming mouth. “Most likely a mason jar with some kind of wick. There’s another over here.” He waved his hand over the floor a few feet away, next to one of her half-burnt display tables.

Jones pulled out his phone and took pictures of what Miguel had indicated. The firefighter nodded to Mariana. “You should get pictures, too, for insurance.”

Her damp phone still worked so she framed up the crowbar and melted glass on the floor. A tear rolled down her cheek and she didn’t wipe it away. Her shop had been reduced to a crime scene. If Ty hadn’t shown up tonight, someone might’ve been taking a picture of her lying on the concrete in the parking lot. Cold shudders ran up her spine. She forced herself to stay on task, taking more pictures of everything Miguel had pointed out, jumping in once Jones got what he needed. Pete maintained his distance.

The blanket did little to keep her warm. Ty’s steady presence would’ve been welcome, but he’d lit out like he was a criminal. And what was that organization he’d said he was with? It was somehow tied to the old photos he’d rescued from the walls.

“Mariana! Mariana!” A woman’s voice called from the front sidewalk. Mariana turned to see her friend Sydney craning her neck to see into the dark, burned-out shop.

“I’m here.” Mariana had recorded all the photos she could and walked toward Sydney.

“Are you all right?” Concern etched the black woman’s face. She clutched a hastily thrown-on sweater across her chest and didn’t hesitate to step into the puddles on the sidewalk in her untied sneakers.

“I’m fine.” Mariana hadn’t meant it when she’d told Ty after the attack. She tried to put as much truth in it now to reassure her friend.

“I heard the sirens and jumped on the community loop. They had the address from the scanners.” Sydney slowed her progress once she reached the broken glass on the ground.

Mariana separated further from the police and firefighter activity, opened the door of her shop and stepped into the embrace of her friend. A long breath racked her, releasing some tension. “It was them.”

Sydney squeezed harder around her. “The developers?”

“It had to be.” Mariana stepped from the hug and looked Sydney in the face. “They attacked me...in the parking lot.”

Worry mixed with fury in Sydney’s eyes. “I’m going to take a wrench to every one of their heads.”

Mariana whispered, “Someone helped me.”

“Who?” Sydney shot a suspicious glance at Pete. She’d had less choice things to say about him and the police department when Mariana’s concerns had been dismissed because of lack of actionable evidence.

“I don’t know.” And what details she did have weren’t quite adding up yet. “I mean, I have a name, but not much else.”

“Not local?” Sydney looked about, as if they were being watched.

“Definitely not.” Mariana would’ve remembered if she’d ever seen him before he walked into her shop that day.

“He didn’t stick around, though.” Sydney couldn’t hide her skepticism.

“He’s kind of...shady.” When Sydney shook her head and took a breath to voice her concerns, Mariana took her friend’s hand and continued, “But he was there all the way. And he rushed into the fire to save things from my shop.”

Sydney squeezed her hand tighter, looking at the broken-out facade of Mariana’s store. “I’m so sorry about what they did.” Her friend swung her gaze across the street, to her own shop that sold candles and honey and other by-products of Sydney’s beekeeping. Mariana understood. Anyone could’ve been targeted by these attacks. But it was only her. And it was for her land.

Jones approached respectfully. “We’re wrapped up here for now. Can you come down to the station to put all the details down?”

Mariana nodded and let go of Sydney’s hand. “I can do that.”

Sydney stepped to her side. “I’ll go with you.”

“You showed up here,” Mariana reassured. “And that’s exactly what I needed. You can go home now. I’m good.”

Miguel was the last out of the shop and closed the door behind him. “Moretti Construction has a twenty-four-hour number for boarding windows. I’ll give them a call.”

“Gracias, Miguel.” Mariana shook his hand. “Thanks for everything.”

He held her hand an extra beat. “I’m really sorry about what happened.”

“We’ll find them.” Jones stood straight, but Mariana couldn’t draw from his confidence. The crooks had been too slick to leave a solid trail before. What could the police do now?

Miguel dropped her hand and headed to his fire truck. Mariana patted Sydney’s shoulder. “Seriously. I’m good.”

Sydney’s concern didn’t diminish. She waved her cell phone. “Call me for anything.”

“You know I will.” Mariana smiled a goodbye, but wasn’t sure how convincing it was. Sydney kept watch as Mariana moved up the sidewalk with Jones and Pete. Rounding the corner at the end of the building brought relief from the flashing lights of the fire trucks. But a new anxiety arose when Mariana stepped into the dark parking lot.

The attack still shook her, cold fear knotting between her shoulder blades. “Maybe now we can convince the city to fix the light back here.” Her voice rang tight. If she could just see Ty and know if he was still around, it might unwind the tension. She thought she felt him watching her, standing by to spring into action again, but it might’ve just been a fantasy. Maybe she’d just imagined him in the first place and this whole thing was a delusion created by her assault.

Pete offered up only “Yeah.”

Jones opened the door to the police cruiser. “We’ll follow you there.” He turned on the headlights, illuminating her truck and half the parking lot. If Ty had been lurking in the shadows, there would’ve been nowhere to hide now. She tried to search as casually as possible for him. No sign.

She’d already seen his skills in a fight. There was no question he could stay hidden if he wanted. But she didn’t know how to sort her disappointment at not seeing him. It could’ve been just a matter of safety. He’d been the one to save her this night. There was something more, though. A curious yearning to find out more of who this mysterious man was.

The automatic motion of taking her keys from her purse brought her back to the moment. This was where her night had changed. She unlocked the truck, then walked to where the rescued items from her store were still scattered on the ground. Everything stacked easily, with the photos on top. Serious and determined, the people in the old picture watched her walk back to the truck and load them in the passenger seat.

She was back behind the wheel of her truck but couldn’t erase what had happened. The engine turned over, and pop music sprang out of the radio, way too cheerful. She killed the radio and pulled away, leaving her burned-out and soaked store. The police car followed her out of the parking lot, but she didn’t see any other cars join the caravan, even from a distance. Ty talked a good game about being with her every step of the way, but his absence left her starkly cold.

Seven blocks later, she parked in front of the police station and went inside with Pete and Jones. Her skin had been so chilled from the wet clothes she didn’t even feel it anymore under the heavy blanket. Hot coffee didn’t help, nor did the hard plastic seat next to Jones’s desk in the large room past the front desk of the station. The lights were so bright she couldn’t tell if it was night or day. Jones typed on a computer and Pete sat close. Together they sent questions to her as she recounted the night. Now that she was off her feet, exhaustion dragged her bones heavy.

“I don’t know who he was. He didn’t say.” Most of the questions swirled when she mentioned the man who’d helped her. “It was too dark to really see him in the parking lot.” She left out the detail that Ty had been in her shop, and that his deep gaze had inspired an unexpected blush on her chest and cheeks.

“And in the fire?” Pete asked pointedly.

She shot back, “I was a little preoccupied.”

Jones looked over his screen. “So we have a black man, over six feet tall, and that’s it.”

“But I know that the guy who attacked me in the parking lot was white, shaved head, in his twenties, no facial hair.” Pete tilted his head and smoothed the back of his blond hair, a move she recognized as frustration. Before he asked, she answered, “The headlights of the car that tried to run me over lit that guy up pretty good, but not the man who helped me.”

Pete seemed unconvinced. Jones stepped in. “I think we’ve got everything you remember.” He took a business card from the desk and handed it to her. “Anything else comes back to you, call anyone here. We’re all working on this, Mariana.”

“Thanks, Jones.” Her legs felt like rusted steel as she stood. She shook his hand and nodded to Pete. He tipped his head in return.

Jones stepped with her toward the front door. “You want us to escort you home, check out the place?”

She shook her head. “I’ve got Toro there.”

“Dog?” Jones asked.

“Mean dog,” Pete answered. Mariana suppressed a laugh. Toro was a better judge of people than her, and had always growled when Pete’s car had pulled up the long drive to her farmhouse.

Mariana walked out of the building, Jones still behind her. “Sure you’re okay out there?”

A car eased down the street in front of the station. Ty was driving, heading in the direction of her home. Relief bloomed in her chest, edged with a hot thrill of seeing him again. He passed, not looking up at her. Whoever Ty was, whatever he was really doing in her town, she would find out tonight.

She turned to Jones, with Pete within earshot in the lobby. “I’m fine.”