Free SPY IN THE SADDLE by Dana Marton Page A

confidentiality level of the op.
    She shook her head with a long-suffering look and waved them off.
    Unfortunately, as it turned out an hour or so later, Shane had no knowledge of the Coyote. He owed money to Wagner for drugs. When he couldn’t pay, Wagner insisted on his help with a job. Wagner had told him they were going to send a “message” to some guy. He’d said nobody would be at the trailer.
    Shane had no idea they’d killed someone until he saw it on the morning news. He’d called Wagner in a panic, who then showed up to shoot him.
    “I’m innocent here.” He was sweating buckets now. “I’m as much a victim as that Jimmy guy was. I swear. I did nothing.”
    “You shot at me and my partner when we went after you,” Shep reminded him. “You hit her, actually.”
    “You weren’t in a cop car. How in hell was I supposed to know who you were? You can’t spit around here without hitting a gangbanger. I thought you were maybe the guy whose stupid trailer we hit, all mad about it.”
    After leaning on him pretty hard for another hour, Shep was tempted to believe him. He called Bree to come pick him up. He’d be charged with Jimmy’s murder and whatever could be proven on the drug angle with Wagner.
    Once they’d left, Keith and Shep drove back to the office for their own cars so they could head back to their apartments for some shut-eye before their border shift started.
    Their break passed pretty fast. Long before Shep was ready for it, they were on patrol duty. Didn’t seem as if they ever really slept lately, just ran from one task to the other.
    “Wouldn’t have minded being in on the Wagner interrogation,” he told Keith over the radio as they drove along the Rio Grande, each in their own SUV.
    “They’ll lean on him hard.” Keith was a couple of miles ahead of him, out of sight.
    Yes, they would. His team was the best of the best. Whatever the bastard had, they’d get it out of him. He thought about that as he scanned the area, taking advantage of the moonlight, switching to night-vision goggles when something moved and he needed to see better.
    But they saw nothing all night other than deer and a couple of stray armadillos. Plenty of time to think about the op, and plenty of time to think about Lilly, unfortunately.
    He hated the idea of her at The Yellow Armadillo, drunk ranch hands drooling all over her. He felt responsible for her. His first instinct was to protect her. Except their relationship now was completely different than when he’d been her parole officer.
    In more than one way.
    Why in hell did she have to throw herself into his arms in that back alley, dammit? Now he couldn’t get the shape of her, the feel of her pressed against him, out of his mind.
    She didn’t want his protection. Too bad. She would have it anyway.
    But other than for the purpose of saving her life, if it became necessary, he wasn’t going to touch her again. Ever. Because it was wrong. And because—
    The hell of the thing was, he wasn’t sure if he could stop again once he started.

Chapter Five
    Since Lilly got the gig, she was invited back onstage to sing the last set.
    The audience was pretty rowdy by then, The Yellow Armadillo still packed at close to two in the morning. Brian should be happy. The men certainly looked as if they’d had plenty to drink. The cash register should be close to bursting.
    She watched her inebriated audience as she sang, searching for any possible illegal activity. She tried to figure out who the regulars were, and kept an eye on who went out to the back hallway that led to the basement, how long they stayed, if they returned.
    She wished she could afford risking another try at that basement door after she sang the last song, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t get caught twice in the same evening. She got the gig, would have access to the bar again tomorrow. That was sufficient progress for her first day.
    She wondered how Shep and Keith had made out with Wagner. Not