was wrong. He wasn’t Mitchell Forbes’s son. His father was Frank Gannon. He had the scars to prove it.
He took the steps two at a time, rounding one level and flying down the next. Scenes from his past reared up in his mind. Dark, ugly images that filled him with a dread so real he could taste it. Could taste the blood. Taste the fear.
But as quickly as they’d come, they were replaced by new images. Mitchell Forbes and his mother. He’d gotten her pregnant and walked away. Left her to marry Frank Gannon. Left her to die in her misery.
Cody reached the first floor and pushed out the door and into the stifling Texas heat. But it was not the sweltering heat that crawled over his skin and sucked away his breath. It was a bitterness so strong it destroyed his ability to reason.
All he knew was that if he never saw Mitchell Forbes again, it would still be eons too soon for him.
Chapter One
Cody Gannon picked up the glass and downed the bourbon. He seldom touched hard liquor, but tonight was special. A hard ball of emptiness had settled in the spot where his heart should have resided, and he needed the burn in his throat and the pain-numbing sting of the drink as it plunged into the pit of his stomach.
Cody Gannon. Illegitimate son. The words tore at his insides like crushed glass. Or shrapnel.
“Mitchell Forbes.” He said the name out loud, rolled it over his tongue, spit it past the disgusting lump that had settled in his throat.
A week ago, the man had been his hero. But that was before Cody had found out the truth about Mitchell. That’s why Cody’s gear was in his pickup truck. All he owned. Amazingly little. Jeans, shirts, boots, a couple of jackets, his guns and a saddle. Even his horse belonged to Mitchell and Texas Confidential.
He had no idea where he was headed, wasn’t even sure what town he’d stopped in. He didn’t much care anymore, as long as it was far away from the Smoking Barrel.
Regret balled in his gut. He tried to force it away, but he hadn’t drunk nearly enough to make it subside. Being a part of Texas Confidential had been more than a job. It had been his life. The first real commitment he’d ever made to anything. The best friends he’d ever had.
Now Cody had no choice but to walk away. Calderone and his band of murderous drug dealers would still be stopped, but Cody wouldn’t be in on the operation that brought them down.
“Thank you, Mitchell Forbes.” He downed the rest of the bourbon and pushed the glass away as a bearded man who smelled like he was two days past needing a bath slid onto the bar stool next to him.
“Buy me a drink, mister?”
“I’d sooner buy you a bar of soap.”
“Then save your money.”
“Suit yourself.” Cody stood and turned away from the drunk, ready to move to another stool or one of the tables in the back of the smoky saloon.
“You better save your money anyway. You’ll probably need it now that you’ve walked off your job.” The stranger leaned over the bar, his hands spread out flat on the marred wood.
Cody stopped and stared at him. His hair was gray, thin and wiry, and his skin was bronzed and weathered from hours spent in the sun. “What makes you think I lost my job?” he asked, studying the man’s facial expression as he waited for an answer.
“I don’t think. I know.” The man fingered the brim of a soiled western hat. “Tell me, is Penny still as bossy as ever?”
“I don’t know any Penny,” he lied.
“Sure you do. No one works at the Smoking Barrel without knowing Penny Archer.”
So that was it. The dirty drunk had probably worked for a while on one of the ranches near the Smoking Barrel, though he didn’t look familiar. It was no secret Cody worked for Mitchell Forbes. It was what he and the other Texas Confidential agents really did for Mitchell Forbes that was kept under wraps.
Still, the man made Cody nervous, and he might as well move on. He reached for his wallet and pulled out a few bills, enough to pay his tab and purchase one drink for the aging cowboy.
“You’re not leaving, are you?” The man reached over and wrapped his fingers around Cody’s left wrist. “I thought we’d get to be buddies.”
“Think again.”
“But we have so much to talk about. Mutual friends. A mutual enemy.”
Cody smoothed the bills he’d tossed to the table, instantly aware of the change to the man’s voice. He was no longer slurring his words, and his voice had lost all traces of frailty. He stared into the man’s eyes, and experienced a vague sense of déjà vu. “What enemy would that be?”
“I was thinking of Tomaso Calderone, but I guess if you’re not a Confidential anymore, you wouldn’t be interested.”
Cody swallowed hard. The man definitely had his attention now. No one outside of the powers in charge was supposed to know about Texas Confidential. The agents’ ability to do their job depended on people believing that they were just everyday cowboys running a ranch. So did staying alive. He lowered his voice to a mere whisper. “Who are you?”
The man met his gaze. “Don’t you recognize me, Cody?”
The voice was no longer disguised. It was smooth. Easy. Almost familiar. He squinted, taking in the wrinkles in the man’s face, his stringy beard, his wispy gray hair. The voice and the appearance didn’t match. He only knew one man who could come up with a disguise that good, and this couldn’t be him.
“I don’t have any idea who you are or what you want from me.”
“I’m Daniel Austin.”
“Daniel Austin is dead.”
“No. I’m too tough to die, though I wished for it a time or two.” His lips curled into a half smile. “I was captured by Rialto’s men, kept prisoner for months. Finally, I escaped, but by then, I knew enough about Calderone and how he worked that I was able to infiltrate his organization. I’ve worked my way all the way to the top. Calderone and me—we’re like that.” He indicated how close with two fingers on his right hand.
Cody shook his head. “No, Daniel is dead.”
“Because that’s what Mitchell Forbes told you? Believe me, that doesn’t make it true.”
Suspicion reared up inside Cody. He was supposed to be walking away from his life as a Texas Confidential agent, not being drawn into some secret conspiracy. But this man obviously knew all about them. And if he really was Daniel Austin…“Why would Mitchell be told you were dead if you’re not?”
“You know the head honchos. They don’t trust anyone.”
“They trust Mitchell Forbes.”
“Don’t be so sure.”
Cody tried to digest
