Sharon Dunn - Thanksgiving Protector

She stepped outside where several agents were still conversing with each other or talking on radios. The ambulance had arrived to haul away the body of the goon who’d been shot.

Misty huddled with her mother on the porch with a blanket over them while an EMT checked them out.

Colt Blackthorn lifted his head from a conversation with another border patrol agent, Greg Gunn. Kylie had worked several missions with Greg. Colt ran toward them.

“Hey, you two. Good teamwork in there.” Colt slapped Austin on the back and nodded in Kylie’s direction.

Still fuming from her exchange with Austin, Kylie was grateful for the positive interaction. “So was he one of Garcia’s men?” She crossed her arms and shot Austin a look. How could they work so well together and then not get along when the danger was over?

Colt turned slightly toward where the ambulance was loading the body covered in a sheet. He ran a hand over his smooth, dark hair. “More than likely. But we’ll have to wait for the ID.”

And still no sign of Garcia. Although Kylie was pretty sure he had come across. In all their work together, the information from Valentina had never been bad. Valentina had probably been killed for disclosing where Garcia had planned on coming across.

If Garcia had gotten wind that law enforcement was on to him, he must have changed the location of his crossing at the last minute. Using Valentina’s murder as a distraction also served as a message to the brass that Garcia was on to them. Garcia had vowed to kill any lawman that got in his way.

No doubt the rangers with border patrol’s help would be focused on figuring out where the drug lord was hiding.

Kylie waited until Colt was out of earshot before turning to face Austin. “I’m going to get that baby. It can’t wait.”

She whirled away toward one of the border patrol vehicles. Since this wasn’t an official mission, she’d have to phone her supervisor at her duty station and get permission to use it. There was no time to go back and retrieve her own car, which would be less conspicuous. She made the call and explained the situation.

When she clicked off her phone, fear and the desire to do the right thing waged war inside of her as she twisted the key in the ignition and shifted into Reverse.

The passenger side door swung open and Austin jumped in. “It’s suicide to go there alone.”

Inwardly, she breathed a sigh of relief. Having him along eased her fears. “Fine, go with me, then.” Her words tinged with a note of defiance. Not that she would let Austin know she was glad he was along.

He leaned toward her, his tone a little teasing and sarcastic. “I think I will.”

Kylie pulled out onto the road and drove through the darkness toward the El Paso neighborhood where she hoped Mercedes was tucked away safely.

After passing several abandoned buildings, Kylie pulled into a gas station. The last thing she wanted to do was run out of gas out there. As she filled the gas tank, the glow of lights in the station and the soft breeze on her skin calmed her. She knew it was a false sense of security. She touched her gun in its holster. She was trained to deal with violence and the unexpected. But this time, a baby’s safety was at stake.

Austin rolled down the window. “You want me to do the driving? One less thing you got to think about.”

The tension coiling through her chest eased up a bit. Austin’s presence and solid instincts had that effect on her when they were working together. But this wasn’t work. The mission was personal. And he was still here to support her. That made her like him even more. “That sounds like a great idea.” She tossed him the keys.

She slipped into the passenger seat and gave him Valentina’s address. Kylie had never been to Valentina’s place. That would have been too risky. When Valentina had information for her, they met in busy public places. But this was the plan they had discussed for the worst-case scenario. Valentina wanted this plan in place almost from the time she had approached Kylie about being an informant. Kylie’s heart ached over the loss of her friend.

“Lot of gang activity in that part of town,” he said as they pulled into traffic.

She nodded. Not everyone there was a criminal, though. Like Valentina, so many were just people trying to get by and raise their families, unable to afford anything safer.

They passed city streets where men and women spilled out from bars, some of them standing around, some of them fighting. The glow of neon lights flashed across the windshield. Tension knotted through her as gunfire sounded in the distance. She couldn’t have done this alone. “Thank you for coming with me.”

“How did you meet your informant?”

A heaviness settled into her chest as the memories flooded through her mind. “At church.”

He nodded. “Do you both sing in the choir?”

“How did you know I sing in the choir?” It was Kylie’s turn to do a double take. “We go to the same church?”

“I sit in the back. I leave right when the service is over.” He grinned as he stared straight ahead. “Yeah, I’m one of those guys.” Austin was a serious man who rarely smiled. His whole face lit up when he did. “The back-bench dweller, that’s me.”

“The important thing is that you go,” Kylie said. This side of Austin was a surprise. At work, he came across as a confident man who knew his job and did it well, but he never talked about personal matters. She hadn’t even realized he was a believer. So they’d been going to the same church all this time. Maybe in social settings he was a much shyer man.

“Guess I feel a little out of place at church.” He leaned closer to the windshield, probably looking for a street name. “You sit in the same seat every Sunday though, after you’re done singing. Creature of habit.”

So he had noticed her at church. She wanted to ask him why he felt out of place, but as private as he was, it would probably be too probing a question. “You should say hi to me sometime instead of just staring at the back of my head.”

Austin nodded and let out a one-syllable laugh.

They passed several buildings with murals painted on them—something this part of town was famous for.

Austin turned down a street that had no streetlights. The pavement changed to dirt road. The area consisted of rundown adobe houses and two apartment buildings that looked badly in need of repair. Some of the windows were boarded up, shot out or had gang symbols graffiti all over them. One man came to the door and watched them as they rolled by, his gaze as cold as steel. Most people probably hid inside at this hour, doors bolted against the violence.

Kylie pointed. “It must be the apartment building at the end of the street.”

Loud music with an intense bass beat erupted from a side street. Austin eased the car off the road, turned off the ignition and killed the lights.

“Stay down,” he said. “This could be fine, but let’s not take any chances.”

THREE

Kylie crouched down below the dashboard. Driving the border patrol vehicle only made them a bigger target in this neighborhood. Her hand brushed over her gun as her pulse thudded in her eardrums. If they were faced with gang activity, they would not have the firepower to get out alive.

Austin kept his head low, as well. The music swelled to full volume. The whole street seemed to be pounding. The vibrations shook their car. Through the open window, she heard the dissonant harmony of men verbally jousting with each other in Spanish. A single gunshot echoed along the street.

Austin rolled the window up. The windows had wire mesh on them to protect them when people threw rocks at them, which happened a lot. But that wouldn’t prevent them from being dragged out into the street and shot.