Last Stand In Texas. Robin Perini
an airtight case of neglect to ensure you get custody.”
“Well, she’s taken Zoe without my permission. That’s a plus.”
“If we find her.”
“I can fix this,” Burke said under his breath. “If you give me the leeway, when I find her—”
His father slammed his hand on the desk. “Do not even think about harming Faith.”
Burke’s lips pursed.
“The cost of cleaning up your messes just doubled. If my team hadn’t gone in behind you, you would’ve been caught. Your DNA was there, Burke. You’re getting sloppy.
“If you do something to your ex-wife, I won’t be able to protect you, or our family name. My sway only goes so far.” His father took a seat, steepled his fingers and stared over the tips at Burke. “Get control of yourself and get back to work.”
The stinging words pierced Burke’s skin with the force of icy knives, but he said nothing. He simply nodded and crossed the hall to his own office.
Once inside, he slammed his fist into the wall. How had his father found out about his latest indiscretion so fast?
His head pounded in a rhythmic crashing against his skull. He placed the heel of his hand against his temple. This was all Faith’s fault. She was the one who’d taken Zoe, and because of it, his mother was a basket case. His father...
He didn’t give a damn about Gerard Thomas or how he felt.
Burke rubbed his face. Faith had been gone three months. She wasn’t smart enough to disappear completely. She would make a mistake. And then he’d have her. No matter what his father said.
He sagged into the leather chair behind his desk and tossed his phone onto the perfectly polished mahogany. He unlocked the top drawer and pulled out a folder containing his plans for the future. When he ran Thomas, Incorporated.
He flipped through the pages. Burke would expand the company’s power nationally, and then internationally. There would be no limits.
His cell vibrated to life.
He glanced at the caller. Orren better have some good news. “Report.”
“Mr. Thomas. We found her.”
Stefan’s SUV bounced over the West Texas badlands, putting his back-road driving skills to the test. He glanced at his GPS. He should be there soon. A strip of vivid purple and orange winked at him from the western horizon, the only color except for a few blooming cacti. The harsh landscape didn’t mince words; dramatic, beautiful in its own way, but nothing like his home country of Bellevaux, strewn with lakes and rivers, lush rolling green hills and vineyards.
His vehicle kicked up dust from the parched earth. He’d been traveling a cattle trail for a half hour, and he just hoped he’d picked the right path. He’d never rendezvoused with Annie in the same place twice. The woman put his own paranoia to shame.
On the other hand, she survived when by all rights she should be dead.
They both lived in the world of gray shadows, where light and dark, truth and lies, right and wrong fused into a strange, inseparable muddle.
The vehicle rose in elevation just enough to see another mile or so into the distance when he made out the top of a nondescript tow camper.
Right where she said she’d be.
He pulled his SUV about fifty feet from her makeshift home and exited, hands raised, leaving his SIG Sauer in the vehicle. Annie had her rules about guns, after all.
She didn’t show herself, but he knew she could see him. Probably had her sight trained on him right now.
“Annie?” he called out.
She didn’t answer, so he waited.
And waited.
A figure finally rose from the protection of a group of saltbushes. Annie cradled an Uzi, her favorite weapon, and strode toward him. She’d piled her loose curly hair on top of her head, not the dark brown he recalled from their first meeting or the auburn from their last appointment. No, this visit, golden brown kissed with blond framed her face, highlighting an unexpected softness to her appearance. Maybe her natural color. He couldn’t be certain, but it suited her.
She wore her usual black jeans and a too-large black T-shirt. By the time the sun set she’d be practically invisible.
Her smile widened when she reached him, a smile that revealed the hidden beauty she made an effort to conceal. He’d never understood why.
“Léon, you look good for a dead man.”
“And you look too beautiful to be dead.”
He bent down and kissed her cheek gently. They’d been friends for about five years now. She knew him as well as anybody, but even she didn’t know his true identity. When CTC had smuggled him into the United States to save his life, they had provided her the information for his Léon Royce persona, but the company had never revealed his real name.
“How’ve you been, Annie?”
A shadowed expression he recognized all too well crossed her face. “Not bad. And you?”
Just the sort of conversation friends with benefits had when they kept each other at arm’s length. Two people with major trust issues and on the run didn’t make for a good long-term relationship. They’d recognized the reality early on, so they performed the identical dance each time they met.
“You planning on coming out of hiding anytime soon?” He always asked.
“Probably not. I just got my hair done for the apocalypse,” she said with a sad smile. “You and I made our choices years ago. This is my life now—helping troublemakers like you and innocent people who have nowhere else to turn.”
Faith and her daughter flashed into his mind. He shoved them aside. He really shouldn’t care.
Except he did.
“So, business has been good?”
“Better than ever.” She sighed. “Power corrupts everything. Law enforcement and government included. Sometimes disappearing is the only answer.”
“Truer words.”
“So why the smoke signal?” she asked. “Ransom usually contacts me for a job.”
“This is personal.” Stefan shifted his weight and met her gaze, direct and unwavering. “I need to disappear.”
She let out a low whistle. “You’re leaving CTC?”
He nodded.
“I see.” She strode across her campsite and unlocked a series of padlocks she’d attached to the reinforced door of the camper. “Come inside.”
He removed his hat and ducked inside. The last time she’d invited him in, they’d headed straight to the bedroom. This time he took the opposite turn to a sophisticated set of equipment, a high-tech wizard’s dream. Annie could forge any identification card needed. She could backstop an elaborate past, or tap into satellite imagery and even street cameras—for a price. He didn’t want to think about what other intel she could lay her hands on.
She slid behind her desk.
“Léon needs to die a public death,” he said, sitting across from her. “I want a new identity. A fresh start. A clean slate.”
She quirked an eyebrow. “Does Ransom know?”
“You’re the first.”
She smiled in that knowing way of hers. “Yeah, right. He knows something