“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Gavin said. “This is ridiculous. We have a show about to start.”
Rocky tossed a bag of white powder onto the ground between him and Gavin. “And one of my planes was about to go up for that show with fucking cocaine inside. Explain that, Gavin. And don’t feed me a line of crap. In fact…I don’t want an explanation. I get that you’re a lowlife piece of shit. So get off my property and do it now.”
Bobby officially knew where Rocky stood. He was clean in all of this. Thank the Lord above, because that made things easier for Bobby. After he reported, his duty was done. Gavin would be placed under surveillance but he was unlikely to lead them anywhere but to another contact to monitor, who might be of interest.
“You’ve got this all wrong, Rocky,” Gavin insisted.
“You messed with the wrong man’s operation, Gavin,” Rocky ground out in obvious anger, his words whiplash sharp. “I’m doing you a favor, letting you walk, because you saved my life in Iraq. But we’re even now. If I see you again—”
“You don’t know what you’re asking,” Gavin said.
“There’s no asking about this, Gavin,” Rocky assured him. “Get the hell out of here before I have you removed.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Gavin said, his voice thickening with rebellion. “The men I work for like what I’m doing. They won’t want it to end. I’ll arrange compensation on your behalf.”
“You have thirty seconds to get out of here,” Rocky said. “Or I will call the police. My debt of gratitude extends only so far.”
Gavin glared. “You’ll be sorry,” he said. “They’ll make you pay. They’ll destroy you.”
“Let them try,” Rocky ground out.
Gavin laughed bitterly. “You are so going to regret this. I’ll be back, and sooner rather than later.” He stormed toward the exit, and Bobby slipped quickly to the side of the building, waiting until the right time to head back to Jennifer’s side. He was relieved to know that the part of the investigation which involved the Texas Hotzone and Bobby himself was most likely over. By tomorrow, Bobby would be free to focus on Jennifer.
***
JENNIFER ORDERED two sausage wraps and a large Coke for her and Bobby to share, as they had in the past. Then she realized how assumptive that was and quickly adjusted. “Make that two Cokes.” But how was she going to carry them? “No. Never mind. Stick with the one large.”
Behind the grill, the fifty-something cowboy, with a round belly, arched one grayish-black brow. “One large? You sure?”
“Of course I’m sure,” she said. “It’s not like a Coke is a big decision.” The cowboy’s brow arched up a bit more, as if he didn’t believe her.
Jennifer pursed her lips. “One large.”
He chuckled and turned away. “What’s so funny?” Jennifer asked, frowning.
“I’ve been married twenty years,” the cowboy said, filling a cup from a portable drink machine to the right of the grill. “Young people dating tend to amuse me.”
“I’m not on a date,” Jennifer said quickly.
The cowboy chuckled again. “Of course you aren’t.”
“I was worried about my hands being full.”
He offered her the drink. “Of course you were.” With a nod, he indicated a small portable table. “Fixin’s for the sandwiches, over there. Show’s about to start, so you better make those links tasty quick.” He grinned. “Good luck with that drink.”
Jennifer bit back another denial, heat flooding her cheeks, as she turned to the “fixin’s.” A few minutes later she stood outside the building waiting on Bobby, wondering what was taking so long, especially considering the planes were lining up on the runway. The crowd was cheering; the show was about to begin.
Jennifer decided it was time to go find Bobby. She marched toward the door when the bag broke open, the sandwiches hitting the ground.
“Oh, no, it didn’t,” Jennifer murmured, bending down to try to pick up the mess and cringing. The sausages had dirt all over them. It was a mess.
Fortunately, Jennifer eyed the large metal trash can she just happened to be standing next to—which considering the smell, in hindsight, might not have been the brightest move, until now, when she needed said trash can.
She set the drink down and started to gather up the ruined sandwiches when the soda tumbled over, followed by Jennifer, as she lost her balance. She hit the wall; her butt, the dirt. “Oh, good grief,” she murmured. She’d never been so clumsy in her life. First she fell in chocolate mousse, now this.
Jennifer maneuvered to get up when she heard a male voice. “You heard me, B.J., cut one of the chutes. Eduardo wants Rocky taught a lesson.” Silence a moment, as if he were listening. “B.J.,” the man said in a harsh whisper, “someone has to die. Now, it can be you or me, or it can be one of those jumpers today. Decide.” Another listening pause and then, “I knew you’d see it my way. Make it happen. I’ll make sure Eduardo knows how helpful you were.”