Bound by Honor: Mercenary's Woman. Diana Palmer

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Bound by Honor: Mercenary's Woman - Diana Palmer

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stared off into space. “You never know how kids will turn out.”

      “I know how mine would have turned out,” Cy said heavily. “One of his teachers was in an accident. Not a well-liked teacher, but Alex started a fund for him and gave up a whole month’s allowance to start it with.” His face corded like wire. He had to swallow, hard, to keep his voice from breaking. The years hadn’t made his memories any easier. Perhaps if he could help get Lopez back in prison, it might help.

      “We’ll get Lopez,” the other man said abruptly. “Whatever it takes, if I have to call in markers from all over the world. We’ll get him.”

      Cy came out of his brief torment and glanced at his comrade. “If we do, I get five minutes alone with him.”

      “Not a chance,” Eb said with a grin. “I remember what you can do in five minutes, and I want him tried properly.”

      “He already was.”

      “Yes, but he was caught and tried back east. This time we’ll manage to apprehend him right here in Texas and we’ll stack the legal deck by having the best prosecuting attorney in the state brought in to do the job. The Hart boys are related to the state attorney general—he’s their big brother.”

      “I’d forgotten.” He glanced at Eb. His eyes were briefly less tormented. “Okay. I guess I can give the court a second chance. Not their fault that Lopez can afford defense attorneys in Armani suits, I guess.”

      “Absolutely. And if we can catch him with enough laundered money in his pockets and invoke the RICO statutes, we can fund some nice improvements for our drug enforcement people.”

      They’d arrived at the northernmost boundary of Cy’s property, and barely in sight across the high-wire fence was a huge construction site. From their concealed position in a small stand of trees near a stream, Eb took his binoculars and gave the area a thorough scrutiny. He handed them to Cy, who looked as well and then handed them back.

      “Recognize anybody?” Cy asked.

      Eb shook his head. “None of them are familiar. But I’ll bet if you looked in the right places, you could find a rap sheet or two. Lopez isn’t too picky about pedigrees. He just likes men who don’t mind doing whatever the job takes. Last I heard, he had several foreign nationals in his employ.” He sighed. “I sure as hell don’t want a drug distribution network out here.”

      “Neither do I. We’d better go have a word with Bill Elliott at the sheriff’s office.”

      Cy shrugged. “You’d better have a word with him by yourself, if you want to get anywhere. I’d jinx you.”

      “I remember now. You had words with him over Belinda Jessup’s summer camp.”

      “Hard words,” Cy agreed uncomfortably. “I’ve mellowed since, though.”

      “You and the KGB.” He pulled his hat further over his eyes. “We’d better get out of here before they spot us.”

      “I can see people coming.”

      “They can see you coming, too.”

      “That should worry them,” Cy agreed, grinning.

      Eb chuckled. It was rare these days to see a smile on that hard face. He wheeled his horse, leaving Cy to follow.

      THAT AFTERNOON, EB DROVE over to the Johnson place to pick up Sally and Stevie for their self-defense practice.

      Sally’s eyes lit up when she saw him and he felt his heart jump. She made him feel warm inside, as if he finally belonged somewhere. Stevie ran past his aunt to be caught up and swung around in Eb’s muscular arms.

      “How’s Jess?” Eb asked.

      Sally made a face and glanced back toward the house. “Dallas got here just before you did. It’s sort of unarmed combat in there. They aren’t even speaking to each other.”

      “Ah, well,” he mused. “Things will improve eventually.”

      “Do you gamble?” she teased. “I feel a lucky streak coming on.”

      He chuckled as he loaded them into the pickup. No, he wasn’t willing to bet on friendlier relations on that front. Not yet, anyway.

      “How much do you know about surveillance equipment?” Sally asked unexpectedly.

      He gave her a look of exaggerated patience. “With my background, how much do you think I know?”

      She laughed. “Sorry. I wasn’t thinking. Can a microphone really pick up voices inside the house? Jess tried to convince me that they could hear us through the walls and we had to be very careful what we discussed. I mentioned that Lopez man and she shushed me immediately.”

      He glanced at her as he drove. “You’ve got a lot to learn. I suppose now is as good a time as any to teach you.”

      When he parked the truck at the front door, he led her inside, parking Stevie at the kitchen table with Carl, his cook, who dished up some ice cream for the child while Eb led Sally down the long hall and into a huge room literally crammed with electronic equipment.

      He motioned her into a chair and keyed his security camera to a distant view of two cowboys working on a piece of machinery halfway down a rutted path in the meadow.

      He flipped a switch and she heard one cowboy muttering to the other about the sorry state of modern tools and how even rusted files were better than what passed for a file today.

      They weren’t even talking loud, and if there was a microphone, it must be mounted on the barn wall outside. She looked at Eb with wide, frankly disbelieving eyes.

      He flipped the switch and the screen was silent again. “Most modern sound equipment can pick up a whisper several hundred yards away.” He indicated a shelf upon which sat several pairs of odd-looking binoculars. “Night vision. I can see anything on a moonless night with those, and I’ve got others that detect heat patterns in the dark.”

      “You have got to be kidding!”

      “We have cameras hidden in books and cigarette packs, we have weapons that can be broken down and hidden in boots,” he continued. “Not to mention this.”

      He indicated his watch, a quite normal looking one with all sorts of dials. Normal until he adjusted it and a nasty-looking little blade popped out. Her gasp was audible.

      He could see the realization in her eyes as the purpose of the blade registered there. She looked up at him and saw the past. His past.

      His green eyes narrowed as they searched hers. “You hadn’t really thought about exactly what sort of work I did, had you?”

      She shook her head. She was a little paler now.

      “I lived in dangerous places, in dangerous times. It’s only in recent years that I’ve stopped looking over my shoulder and sitting with my back against a wall.” He touched her face. “Lopez’s men can hear you through a wall, with the television on. Don’t ever forget. Say nothing that you don’t want recorded for posterity.”

      “This

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