Grumpy Boss

10

Rees

Colorado is a flat expanse of small scrubby trees and bushes, broken up by highways and cul-de-sacs and housing developments. Between Denver and Boulder, there wasn’t much, but we kept going west. The mountains loomed in the distance, craggy and pitted, white peaked and beautiful.

“They’re almost terrifying,” Millie said as we drove further and further into the country, surrounded by fencing and the occasional horses. “Having them always there.”

“You’d probably get used to it,” I said, but I knew what she meant. There were no mountains like them, not back in Philadelphia. Pennsylvania was all forest and rolling hills, but this arid semi-prairie, in the shadow of those enormous mountains, felt somehow unnatural, like they could come crashing down at any moment.

She made some dismissive sound and stared out the window. Ever since her meeting with Lady Fluke, she’d been strange. One moment, she seemed particularly engaged—reading over Alfie’s prospectus, for example, made her almost giddy with the boredom of financial jargon—and the next she’d pull away. Jack said the Lady had that effect on people, and that she’d move past it sooner or later.

I wasn’t so sure. It’d been nearly a week, and she still seemed off. I wondered if maybe I should palm her ass again, just to knock her out of whatever funk she’d dropped into.

I followed GPS directions to a long, dirt road that jutted through a series of fields. Ahead, hidden in the middle of a copse of trees and brush, was a large house, bigger than I’d expected. It was in the ranch style, lots of wood, very western feeling, but there were small, unexpected modern flourishes, like big glass windows. We were far away from civilization, about an hour from the nearest town, and everything in spitting distance was owed by Byron Nave.

Jack did some research into the guy. Apparently, Kevin wasn’t joking—Byron truly was rich as all hell. He was a cattle baron and owned thousands of cows and steer and other livestock, not to mention acres and acres of very expensive and very desirable land. As far as I could tell, the guy had no financial connections at all, despite being worth millions.

I parked the car out front of the house next to an old, beat up truck. Millie frowned out the windshield and looked around. “Are you sure this is right?” she asked.

“It’s the biggest house for miles,” I said. “And the GPS says it’s the place.” I killed the engine and got out of the car.

Millie followed. I understood her hesitation: this guy was supposed to be loaded, and while the house itself looked like it cost a few million at least, the truck was a real piece of shit, and there was random farm equipment left to grow rusty and covered in weeds. An old tractor leaned up against a nearby crumbling fence; an ATV was tipped on its side and missing a wheel; several wheelbarrows full of what looked like tiles or bricks were lined up in the grass fifty feet into the nearest field.

“Come on,” I said, and began toward the house, but before I could reach the front porch an incredible blast made me jump and turn toward Millie.

I grabbed her as another blast ripped the air again, and I realized it was gunfire. I cursed and shoved her to the side, toward the old truck, and pinned her against the bed, covering her with my body. I didn’t have time to think—my heart raced in my chest and I felt like I wanted to throw up, but the adrenaline kept me hyper-focused on the moment.

One more gunshot broke the air before I spotted the shooter: a man standing just over the fence line on the opposite side of the driveway, his back to us, the gun pointed away, into the field. He wore jeans, a flannel shirt, and dirty black boots. Smoke curled from a shotgun wedged in his shoulder, and more smoke puffed from a cigar in his teeth. He lowered the weapon and held it up, aiming into the sky, as he blew smoke out and shouted a curse.

“Rees?” Millie asked from beneath me. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Shit, it’s okay. He’s not shooting at us. Are you hurt?”

“Fine, just—“ She grunted a little. “You’re kind of heavy.”

I realized with a start that I was crushing her against the bed. I moved back and sucked in a deep breath. I nodded once, not trusting myself to speak again, and paced toward the man. Anger washed through me, and I wanted nothing more than to break that bastard’s nose open on a very hard rock. He scared the fuck out of me, but even worse, scared Millie—and could have hurt her. The mother fucker should never shoot a gun near a house like that, even if he was experienced and wasn’t aiming anywhere near us.