Guardian Ranger (Shadow Agents 2)

Wyatt was pacing nervously in front of the prisoners. His hair, short and black, jutted out at odd angles, the result of him running desperate fingers over his head. He kept casting worried looks at Veronica every few minutes, and he’d already asked at least a dozen times, “Sure you’re all right?”

Other than a few bruises, she was fine.

Things could have been much worse, and she knew it.

“You got a permit for that weapon?” Wyatt demanded of Jasper. Wyatt’s dark eyes had narrowed.

Jasper nodded.

Veronica’s hands fisted. “I don’t think that’s the priority here.” She knew Wyatt was a by-the-book guy, but didn’t an attempted kidnapping trump a weapons charge?

Wyatt flushed, but held his ground. “Those guys aren’t talking.” His thumb jerked over his shoulder toward the cell. “Not a damn word. I’m running their prints, so we should at least know who the hell they are soon.”

She risked a look at the men and found them both glaring at her. The town’s doc had come in and patched up the injured man. The bullet had gone straight through his shoulder. Easy in and out. But the concussion he’d received when his head slammed into the trunk had him dazed.

“Those were some damn fine shots,” Wyatt said, but the words weren’t a compliment. They reeked of suspicion. “One blast to the shoulder, two shots that both hit the tires of a moving vehicle.”

“The vehicle wasn’t exactly moving fast,” Jasper murmured. “The driver was just pulling off when I made the hits.”

She just remembered the smell of burnt rubber. The squeal of tires. The thunder of the shots. Veronica cut her gaze back to the sheriff.

Wyatt was frowning. His face wasn’t as hard as Jasper’s. His features were softer, rounder, with a few more lines around the eyes. He was good-looking, when he wasn’t sweating bullets—which he was doing right then.

But despite his sweat and tension, Wyatt’s stare was knowing as it lingered on Jasper. “You’re real comfortable with a gun.”

She didn’t like where this was going. “That’s because he’s a former army ranger. He served in the military with...with Cale.”

That revelation had both of Wyatt’s brows rising. “Did he now.”

That news had just led to even more suspicion in his gaze. Not what she’d wanted to happen. “I was just... I’d been going through some old photographs of Cale’s recently, hoping to find something that might help me locate him.” That was one hundred percent true. She’d dug out every photograph she could find, desperate for any clue, no matter how small. “I saw Jasper in some of the photos, and I remembered how close he and Jasper used to be.” Again, all true. She’d seen Jasper’s photograph, remembered just how deadly Cale had said that the ex-ranger had been, and she’d known that she needed a man like Jasper to help her. A bit of checking on her computer, and she’d realized fate was on her side.

Jasper had been in the area.

“So she called me up,” Jasper said, interrupting easily and just taking up the story now. “We got to talking, I came here...” His fingers slid down her arm. “One thing led to another. I’m sure you know how that can be.”

Wyatt’s jaw locked. “But what brought you out on that road tonight? When you were supposed to meet your friend at Last Chance?”

There wasn’t a whole lot of privacy to be found in the sheriff’s station, but they’d moved far enough away from the prisoners so that the jailed men couldn’t hear their quiet words. Veronica was glad to be away from those men. The intensity of their stares unnerved her. They tried to kidnap me.

She’d never come that close to violence like that before. Never had violence actually directed at her. Cale had always protected her from everything and everyone.

Cale wasn’t there anymore.

“Even though my friend was coming, I didn’t want Veronica driving home alone. I figured Gunner could wait a bit.” Jasper reached for her hand. Shocked her when he lifted her fingers to his mouth and brushed a light kiss over her knuckles. “So I followed her, and I’m damn glad that I did.

”

Her heart had slammed into her chest. I’m glad, too.

“I want to talk with these prisoners,” Gunner suddenly said. “Alone.”

Wyatt tensed, then glanced over at the deputy who was on duty that night, a young guy with pale skin and wide eyes. She knew the deputy well, as well as she knew Wyatt. Deputy Jimmy Jones had lived in Whiskey Ridge his whole life. Quiet, shy, but the twenty-two-year-old was fierce about protecting those in his county.

When she’d first met Jimmy, she’d felt much sympathy for him because the boy he’d been...well, his life had been a nightmare. But Jimmy had pulled himself out of that darkness, and now he was fighting to be better, stronger.

“Why are you wanting to talk to my prisoners without me present?” Wyatt asked. “That’s not what I’d call regular—”

Gunner lifted out his ID again. “I want to talk to them because I think they might fit it on my case.” A brief pause, then, “They fit the profile of some men I’ve been tracking with the FBI.”