Chapter 10: Hiding
Maddie
The dust from the Mongols’ departing truck hadn’t even settled, but I was already running the calculations. The thug—Frank, I believe he was called—had a grip like a vise and the dull, brutish eyes of a man who enjoyed his work. The sting on my cheek was a fresh, blossoming heat, a crude signature left on my territory. Outwardly, I let my hand tremble as I touched the spot. I let a tear well. I let Jack see it.
He saw it. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel, his whole body a coiled spring of violence. Good. That’s what I needed. Predictable, righteous male fury. It was a resource, the same as money or blackmail.
“Now you see,” I said, my voice a carefully crafted tremor of rage and fear. “Now you see what we’re up against.”
He didn’t answer, just stared into the rearview mirror as if he could will them to return. He was a fool. A beautiful, broken, useful fool. This direct, sloppy violence was an insult. An amateurish display. In my organization, a message was delivered with the silence of a financial ruin, the subtlety of a rumor that destroyed a man’s life without a single drop of blood. The Mongols used fists. It was disgustingly primitive.
My mind flicked back to a few hours ago. Jack, stewing in Sheriff Brody’s sad little office, was a person of interest in a murder I knew he didn’t commit. Brody would have held him. My man is paid to be lazy and compliant, and a high-profile murder case is anything but. I’d made one call. Not to Brody—never deal with the organ grinder when you can talk to the monkey—but to Sterling. My ghost. His voice, calm and sterile as a surgeon’s scalpel, had confirmed the task. ‘Consider it handled.’ A quiet word about a past indiscretion, a reminder of who keeps the town’s fragile peace, and suddenly Jack Draven was no longer a problem for the Calico Sheriff's Department. I had pulled him from the fire, not to save him, but to aim him.
And now, the Mongols had done the one thing I couldn’t: they’d made it personal for him.
“They wanted to send a message,” he finally grunted, his voice rough. “And they did.”
“They hit me, Jack!” My voice cracked, a perfect performance of a woman violated. I wasn’t violated. I was inconvenienced. I was insulted. But he didn’t need to know that. “You think a minute is enough to process that?”
He slammed his fist against the steering wheel, the sound a sharp crack in the tense air. “You’re not a project, Maddie. You’re a goddamn mess I’m stuck in.”
The line was so perfectly, tragically heroic that it was almost comical. I leaned in, my feigned vulnerability melting away, replaced by a low, dangerous purr. “And you’re the only one who can clean it up,” I retorted. “You want to play rough, Jack? Fine. But you play by my rules now.”
He stared at me, the anger in his eyes warring with a reluctant understanding. He thought he was taking control. He thought this was a partnership forged in crisis. He had no idea he was simply a piece I’d just moved on the board.
“Fine,” he bit out. “Partners. For now.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it being anything else, detective,” I purred, settling back in my seat. He started the car, the engine a low growl that matched the simmering rage radiating from him.
He was focused on the road ahead, on the enemy he could see. My gaze drifted to the desolate horizon. He was right. He was stuck in my mess. But I was the one who had spun the web, and he was the beautiful, angry fly I’d been waiting for.
We went back to the mine, and I showed him a secret entrance.
"This is where they bring them," I explained, the words echoing in the damp air. "The bodies are hidden in the older, sealed tunnels. The Mongols are thorough, but not creative."
Jack's eyes scanned the darkness, the flashlight beam cutting through the oppressive black. "They're using the mine's reputation," he stated, his voice a low rumble. "A perfect cover for their dirty work."
"And they chose this particular mine for a reason," I added, my voice barely a whisper as I gestured to the rock formations around us. "The quartz and rare metals here amplify signals. It's ideal for what they're hiding."