.38 Caliber Cover-Up. Angi Morgan
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Give him a knife fight in a dark alley any day.
“Sean’s not alone yet.” She came to an abrupt halt. “Hold on.”
Turning her back on an inflated balloon and the two men securing ropes, she brushed off imaginary lint from his shoulders. Definitely hiding her face from the men.
The balloon was huge, dwarfing the trees, with markings like gold blades or sabers against an array of army drab.
“I think the guy you keep referring to as the Sergeant Major headed south.”
She peeked over her shoulder, spun and almost skipped to her brother. Same build, same hair, same features. It looked better on Darby. “Hey, Sean.”
“Cool, I didn’t think you could make it this weekend.” Sean finished securing the balloon. “The Sergeant Major’s in for a surprise.”
“More than you know.” Darby gave the man about his age a hug.
“Who’s this?” Sean jerked his head toward Erren.
“Richard Paladin. Nice to meet you.” He stuck his hand out, received a solid shake and a complete once-over from big brother.
Darby’s eyebrow shot straight up, but she also gave him an approving look for using a different name.
“What’s up? Why didn’t you call?”
Erren turned to give her a bit of privacy, and took the opportunity to look around. No Sergeant Major guy in sight. No police cars that he could see. Nothing to indicate they would be spotted and hauled to jail for attempted kidnapping or murder.
The siblings whispered, but weren’t completely quiet.
“He’ll never go for it,” Sean exploded, his voice loud and sharp. He backed away from Darby. “I won’t let you ruin your career for Michael. He’s in a coma, guarded in a hospital somewhere. We can’t be there for him anymore. You have to stop.”
“He’s innocent,” she said.
So Michael was her true motivation? Good to know.
“Let the police prove it. When are you going to admit that he’s not one of the good guys?”
“I have to do this, Sean. He’d do it for us. You know he would.” But her voice wasn’t laced with complete conviction. “All I need is your truck.”
“I don’t loan my truck to anyone.”
“Keys, please.”
Darby held out her hand and her brother dug in his pocket, pulling out keys. The words being spoken didn’t reflect their actions, but he couldn’t relate. He hadn’t experienced this type of relationship. No brothers or sisters and no family since high school. If they weren’t in a hurry, he’d want to examine their actions more.
“Anything else?”
“Well, if you could let the Sergeant Major know I’m working undercover and haven’t been abducted.”
“Is that all?” Sean scrubbed his face with both hands, clearly exasperated.
“Time to go, Darby. Cop at ten o’clock.” Erren placed himself between Darby and the Sergeant Major, who was headed their way with a police officer.
“If they find you here, you won’t make it past the perimeter gate,” Sean warned.
Darby looked at Erren. “Quick. Into the basket.”
“We can’t hide in a basket.” Was she crazy? He wasn’t getting in that death trap. Not even to escape. His gut tightened, tying knots on top of the knots already there.
“We’ll go up,” Darby insisted. “Tell him Richard’s proposing.”
“You know he’ll never—”
“We’ll already be in the air. Tell him the guy paid you five hundred.”
Sean shook his head. “He’s going to be megapissed.”
Erren heard the conversation, but it didn’t register. The cop was closing in and the thought of going up had his blood pounding in his ears. “Nothing short of a gun to my head will make me get in that thing.”
“How about cuffs around your wrists? And this time, they won’t be mine.”
“Not happening.” He searched the crowd for another option.
“We’ve spent all night avoiding the police because you believed there’s a conspiracy. If we’re going to retrieve Pike’s package, we have to be free of the authorities.” With an exasperated huff, she grabbed his arm and tugged him forward. “Get in the basket. Now.”
She was right. The cop advanced. There was one way out. Up.
He hated…up.
“I’ve got it, Sean. Thanks. This should work.”
There wasn’t a step, so he hopped over the side, trying not to think about the consequences.
“Yeah, but you’ll have to deal with the Sergeant Major when you come down,” her brother said.
“I know.” Darby’s voice was softer, less authoritative than when she’d ordered him into the balloon.
Erren stayed on the floor of the basket. Maybe if he couldn’t see the dang thing floating in the air, he wouldn’t lose yesterday’s lunch. Maybe he wouldn’t shake right out of his shoes. Maybe. Just maybe.
Concentrate on the weave of the wicker. It was only a bigger version of the baskets his grandmother made. He could do this. They couldn’t get caught. It was the only way to avoid days of sorting out the truth or being thrown off the case entirely. Nothing to it.
Maybe.
Darby climbed in, opened a valve and the smell of propane filled the air. She immediately used a striker to spark a flame. The swoosh of the gas springing to life shot through him with an image of the stupid air sack going up in flames like the Hindenburg.
The balloon rose and Erren kept his butt firmly glued to the bottom of the basket.
“What are you doing down there? You need to stand up. It’s a real clear morning. You can see for several miles. Besides, you’re supposed to be proposing.”
“Proposing?” He tilted his head and watched the wind whip her hair from her face. She really was lovely. “Why would I be proposing?”
“You really weren’t paying attention, were you?” She quirked an eyebrow at him before returning her attention to the heater. “It’s the only reason the Sergeant Major lets the balloon go up without him. He can’t stand the mushy stuff.”
“Got it.” There was no way in hell he was standing up. “But I’m not the type of guy to go down on one knee.”