Diana Palmer - Wyoming Bold

“You’re not,” Rourke commented. “They probably did have someone standing by to slip a bug under the table wherever you sat. Someone working as a temporary waiter.”

“You’re good,” Tank mused.

Rourke shrugged. “Years of practice. I used to work for Interpol, a long time ago. But the pay was somewhat less than I earn with small arms in dangerous places.”

“Hazardous work,” Mallory commented.

Rourke nodded. “But it’s what I do best.” He sighed. “There’s a revolution going on in a country near mine. Near Kenya. I was on my way there when you called for help.” He smiled at Tank’s guilty expression.

Tank knew about Rourke’s friend, Tat. He almost mentioned what Merissa had told him but he paused. She’d warned him to say nothing or it might cost the photojournalist her life. He kept his silence.

“Sorry about that,” Tank said gently.

Rourke shrugged again. “No big deal. I can go later. It’s not as if the war will be over in a day or two. Sad case. The president of the country is Harvard-educated, he’s brilliant and he has a feel for politics. His opponent comes from some dusty backwater village and he can’t even sign his own name.” His expression became grim. “He’s ordered women and children butchered for daring to help the government forces, in ways I can’t even tell you about. It’s like tribal warfare back in the 1800s, only worse.” He looked at Tank. “Even having been in a war in the Middle East, you have no idea how warfare is conducted in such places. I’ve been shot at by eight-year-olds with AK-47s.”

“Child soldiers.” Tank’s expression was eloquent. “People who employ them should be tried and shot.”

“They will be, when the president is back in his office. And he’ll prevail. I’m certain of it. He has the backing of most of the Western nations.” His smile was sarcastic. “His country is almost floating on oil, you see. Some of his advisors are spec ops people from a country I won’t name.”

Tank sighed. “At least he has help.”

“A lot of it. But meanwhile, whole villages are being burned out, their populations decimated. Crops are destroyed before harvest, so the refugee population grows daily. Borders are closing around the country, so there are tent camps set up everywhere. It’s the most heart-rending thing I’ve ever seen.”

“War is ugly,” Tank agreed. “Thanks for taking care of the bugs,” he added, changing the subject. “I was starting to twitch every time I looked at the phone.”

Rourke smiled. “I know that feeling.”

He turned. “I’ve got to talk to our electrician. I want him to go over to the Baker house and fix an electrical problem that the squirrel caused.”

“Is the squirrel returning when it’s mended?” Rourke wondered.

“Nah. Greg’s going to release it a few miles north.”

Rourke pursed his lips. “Does a squirrel have built-in GPS?”

Tank burst out laughing. “I don’t know. Maybe I should look that up before he has time to release the varmint.”

“Not a bad idea,” Mallory added. He made a face. “I wish Morie and my son would come back. I’m lonely.”

“I imagine Cane is, too.” Tank chuckled. “He’ll be missing Bodie, especially since she’s pregnant. He paces and paces, worrying about her.”

“Shopping trips.” Mallory shook his head. “I don’t know why they can’t shop in Catelow.”

“Big Paris fashion boutiques and fancy baby boutiques on the go in Catelow, are there?” Rourke asked with a bland expression.

“Well, not so much,” Mallory replied with twinkling eyes.

“Good point,” Tank replied. He was thinking of Paris fashions and how they’d look on Merissa, with her neat, trim figure.

“You need to bring Merissa to dinner when they get home,” Mallory commented as they wandered out of the house toward the bunkhouse.

Tank’s heart jumped. He smiled. “That’s a good idea.”

Mallory just laughed.

* * *

THE ELECTRICIAN WENT to the Baker home, but midway there, he hit something and had to pull off the road. He got out to see what had stopped him and found, of all things, a spike strip, like policemen used to trap fleeing criminals, lying across the asphalt. He pulled it to the side of the road and left it, then called Darby Hanes.

“Can’t you just change the tire?” Darby asked, surprised.

“I’ve got four flats,” the electrician, Ben, muttered. “I don’t carry four spare tires on this thing.”

“Good Lord, what’d you hit?” Darby exclaimed.

“A spike strip,” Ben said disgustedly. “I can’t imagine why the police left it here for people to run over!”

“What police? You’re out in the country. And I haven’t heard anything about a chase.”

“I know.”

“Call the wrecker. I’ll be right there.”

“No need, Darby. I’ll go with the truck and wait while they get the tires on it. I’ll phone the Bakers and explain.”

“Well, okay. That might be best. While you’re there, get them to check the battery. Replace it if you need to. Truck’s been hard to start lately.”

“I noticed. I’ll do that.”

Ben sighed and called for the truck to be towed. As an afterthought, he tried to phone Merissa and explain the delay, but her phone didn’t seem to be working. No matter, he’d phone from the mechanic’s shop later. Surely it wouldn’t take that long for the mechanic to do the job.

* * *

“THERE,” THE ELECTRICIAN said with a smile. “All done.”

Merissa grinned. The man had been thorough. He’d checked all the phones and the wiring, and replaced the outlet where the squirrel had bitten the extension cord through and caused the short. He’d even checked out Merissa’s computer, just to be safe. Since it was so important to her job, he added, it wouldn’t hurt to make sure it was in good working order. She’d agreed.

“That’s so kind of you,’ she told him. “Thanks a million. I’d be happy to pay you...”

He waved payment away. “It’s just my job. I’m glad to help.”

She walked him out to the porch. He was driving a black sedan, nothing fancy. She wondered why he hadn’t come in a ranch truck, but perhaps he had somewhere personal to go and didn’t want to use the ranch’s gas for it. She wondered why the man gave her an uneasy feeling. Probably, she reasoned, she was getting paranoid. He was personable and seemed very kind. Still...

“Well, thanks again,” she said.

He turned and smiled. He was tall and slender, with brown hair and dark eyes, very dignified. He didn’t look like a ranch hand at all. “My pleasure,” he said. He climbed into the car and drove away.

“What a very nice man,” Merissa said to her mother.

“Yes. The Kirks have been good to us.” She hugged her daughter. “I’m so glad that we still have each other. If Bill hadn’t gone away when he did...”

“Don’t think about it,” Merissa said, hugging her close.

Clara sighed. “I can’t help it. You know, San Francisco isn’t that far away, and Bill works for a shipping company on the docks, Meriwether’s. If he knew we were still here, if he ever tried to return...!”

“He won’t come back,” Merissa said softly. “You told his cousin that we were living in Billings, didn’t you?”

“Yes.” She relaxed. “Yes, I did. And I know he doesn’t have caller ID, so he wouldn’t notice the area code or the number. I’m sorry. It’s just that I’ve lived in fear all these years that he’d want revenge, that he’d try to do something awful to us.”

“He won’t come back,” Merissa assured her. “He won’t.”

Clara drew back and smiled. “You’re right, of course.”

“Of course! So let’s go have supper.”

“That is an excellent idea,” Clara agreed, leading the way into the kitchen.

* * *

LATER, TANK PHONED THEM. “I’m sorry Ben didn’t make it over there,” he said. “He had to go with the truck and wait while they replaced the tires. The mechanic was swamped, so it took a long time. He said he tried to call you and couldn’t get through.”

“Odd,” she remarked. “The phone didn’t ring.”

That was puzzling, but the snowstorm did make the power and phone service a little sporadic lately. “Well, anyway, he’ll get there first thing in the morning.”

“Ben?” Merissa asked, stunned. “Who’s Ben?”

“Our electrician,” he replied. “The one who was coming over to replace your wall outlet.”

“But...the electrician came,” she faltered. “He checked out everything, even my computer, and redid the wiring...”

“I’ll be right over,” Tank said curtly, and hung up.

Merissa looked at the phone with a puzzled expression. She wondered why Tank sounded so upset. Then she remembered what he’d said. His electrician hadn’t come? So who was the nice man who’d fixed the wiring?

MERISSA MET TANK at the front door. He got out of the ranch truck with another man, a tall, blond man with one eye and an eye patch. “But he already fixed the wiring,” she began.

Tank put his finger to his lips. He looked at the other man and nodded. The man with one eye grinned at Merissa and went past her into the house.

“Don’t say a word,” Tank told her. “But come with us and show Rourke what the man worked on.”

She went pale. “It was the man who’s after you, wasn’t it? I knew there was something wrong about him. And I didn’t even realize...!”

She was heartsick.

He drew her into his arms and hugged her close. “It’s all right,” he said softly. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll make everything right. Come on, honey.”

He held her hand and led her back into the house. Clara was standing in the hall with Rourke already.

Merissa led the men through the house, pointing out everywhere her visitor had been. It took a long time. Rourke used some odd instrument to pinpoint every small, unnoticeable change. He removed several components, even one from Merissa’s own computer tower, a flash drive she hadn’t even noticed, hidden in the back of the computer, in a place she never used.