Free Nauti Dreams by Lora Leigh Page B
Authors: Lora Leigh
had just dropped her back at her car, and knew he
wouldn’t have to wait long; he was just curious who would show up.
He wasn’t left in suspense, and he had to hide his smile as the black jeep pulled in behind
his SUV and Natches stepped out of the vehicle.
Those damnable glasses covered his eyes. The black lenses were a shield between
Natches and the world, Zeke often thought. And damned if he could blame the other man.
Natches hadn’t exactly skated through life. Some years, Zeke knew, he’d hung on by his
fingernails alone as his father tried to destroy him.
Last year, Zeke feared, had been a breaking point for Natches. The day he had taken a
bead on his first cousin Johnny Grace and pulled the trigger.
Natches had been one of the finest snipers the Marines had possessed. Often working
alone, without the benefit of a spotter, completing his missions, then hanging around to
gather intel. Four years in the Marines and he had nearly been a legend by the time an
enemy sniper had taken his shoulder out.
If that was what happened. Zeke sometimes wondered. Natches wasn’t a man one could
slip up on, even from a distance. He had instincts like the sheriff had never known in
another man. Instincts honed in the Kentucky mountains and in his father’s home.
An ex-Marine himself, Dayle Mackay was one hard-bitten son of a bitch. If ever a man
deserved a bullet, then it was Dayle.
“Figured you’d show up eventually.” Zeke sighed when Natches didn’t speak. “I wasn’t
able to get any info, if that’s what you want to know.”
“Why is she here?”
“Follow-up is what I was told.” Zeke shrugged; he didn’t believe that one either.
“They’re still missing the million. I guess the government has to line their coffers
somewhere, huh?”
He tipped his hat back and stared up at the setting sun as Natches stood still and silent.
What the hell was he thinking behind those glasses? Reading Natches Mackay was like
trying to read ancient script. Pretty much impossible.
“Who is she questioning tomorrow?”
Zeke shook his head. “Hell if I know. Said she’d give me the names when we meet up in
the morning. I couldn’t get shit out of her.”
She was as closemouthed as Natches was, and almost as wary. But where the man was
stone-cold and silent, Zeke had seen nervousness in the agent. She had known from
second to second exactly where Natches was behind them, when he would round a curve,
or where he would park. That little girl had been so attuned to the killer shadowing them
that Zeke had been amazed.
“Would you tell me if you had?” Natches asked him then, his big body shifting
dangerously as he pinned Zeke with that shielded gaze.
“In this case, yeah, I’d tell you.” He nodded. “Because I want an end to this as well,
Natches. What went down last year has ripped through this town like a plague.
Homegrown fucking terrorists? God help us all. People are scared to trust their neighbors
here now. And that bothers me. That bothers me real bad.”
Pulaski County was his home, his county, his watch and his responsibility. It was one he
took seriously, and until last year, he had thought he was doing a damned fine job at
keeping out the worst of the evil the world had to offer.
Terrorists. Son of a bitch. It was bad enough when the bastards were foreign, almost
fucking conceivable. But homegrown? A man you’d known all your life?
He and Johnny Grace hadn’t been friends, but if anyone had asked him if the boy could
kill, he would have given an emphatic no. And he would have been wrong. If anyone had
told him Johnny had been conspiring to steal and sell missiles that would be used against
his own nation, Zeke would have denied it to the last line.
Johnny had been strange. He’d been a little off in left field sometimes, but Zeke had
never imagined what his smile hid.
“She’s after more than the money.” Zeke breathed out heavily at that thought.
wouldn’t have to wait long; he was just curious who would show up.
He wasn’t left in suspense, and he had to hide his smile as the black jeep pulled in behind
his SUV and Natches stepped out of the vehicle.
Those damnable glasses covered his eyes. The black lenses were a shield between
Natches and the world, Zeke often thought. And damned if he could blame the other man.
Natches hadn’t exactly skated through life. Some years, Zeke knew, he’d hung on by his
fingernails alone as his father tried to destroy him.
Last year, Zeke feared, had been a breaking point for Natches. The day he had taken a
bead on his first cousin Johnny Grace and pulled the trigger.
Natches had been one of the finest snipers the Marines had possessed. Often working
alone, without the benefit of a spotter, completing his missions, then hanging around to
gather intel. Four years in the Marines and he had nearly been a legend by the time an
enemy sniper had taken his shoulder out.
If that was what happened. Zeke sometimes wondered. Natches wasn’t a man one could
slip up on, even from a distance. He had instincts like the sheriff had never known in
another man. Instincts honed in the Kentucky mountains and in his father’s home.
An ex-Marine himself, Dayle Mackay was one hard-bitten son of a bitch. If ever a man
deserved a bullet, then it was Dayle.
“Figured you’d show up eventually.” Zeke sighed when Natches didn’t speak. “I wasn’t
able to get any info, if that’s what you want to know.”
“Why is she here?”
“Follow-up is what I was told.” Zeke shrugged; he didn’t believe that one either.
“They’re still missing the million. I guess the government has to line their coffers
somewhere, huh?”
He tipped his hat back and stared up at the setting sun as Natches stood still and silent.
What the hell was he thinking behind those glasses? Reading Natches Mackay was like
trying to read ancient script. Pretty much impossible.
“Who is she questioning tomorrow?”
Zeke shook his head. “Hell if I know. Said she’d give me the names when we meet up in
the morning. I couldn’t get shit out of her.”
She was as closemouthed as Natches was, and almost as wary. But where the man was
stone-cold and silent, Zeke had seen nervousness in the agent. She had known from
second to second exactly where Natches was behind them, when he would round a curve,
or where he would park. That little girl had been so attuned to the killer shadowing them
that Zeke had been amazed.
“Would you tell me if you had?” Natches asked him then, his big body shifting
dangerously as he pinned Zeke with that shielded gaze.
“In this case, yeah, I’d tell you.” He nodded. “Because I want an end to this as well,
Natches. What went down last year has ripped through this town like a plague.
Homegrown fucking terrorists? God help us all. People are scared to trust their neighbors
here now. And that bothers me. That bothers me real bad.”
Pulaski County was his home, his county, his watch and his responsibility. It was one he
took seriously, and until last year, he had thought he was doing a damned fine job at
keeping out the worst of the evil the world had to offer.
Terrorists. Son of a bitch. It was bad enough when the bastards were foreign, almost
fucking conceivable. But homegrown? A man you’d known all your life?
He and Johnny Grace hadn’t been friends, but if anyone had asked him if the boy could
kill, he would have given an emphatic no. And he would have been wrong. If anyone had
told him Johnny had been conspiring to steal and sell missiles that would be used against
his own nation, Zeke would have denied it to the last line.
Johnny had been strange. He’d been a little off in left field sometimes, but Zeke had
never imagined what his smile hid.
“She’s after more than the money.” Zeke breathed out heavily at that thought.