High Voltage (Ramsey Security #3)

“Our boss is connected to Memphis,” Minka says, picking her words carefully.

Dayton and Camden share a look. I catch Judd and Vaughn doing the same. Rather than two warring sides, Minka has created a third. I’m wondering if we’ll both fit behind Tucker when the bullets start flying.

“You helped Ruby,” Dayton says like it’s a question.

Minka gives a slight nod. I only stare at the men, waiting for a sign of trouble.

“She’s a family friend, so I guess that means we owe you.”

Ruby’s unwillingness to ask for help from these family friends makes me wonder what bullshit they’re pulling. Minka is thinking the same thing. I know that because I know her. Expression-wise, she’s unreadable.

“We don’t want anything from you.”

Dayton scratches his blond beard. “I thought you were here to tell us that Common Bend still belongs to the Reapers even though they haven’t controlled it in months.”

“We came here to tell you that Common Bend’s current leadership will be removed in seventy-two hours.”

“Why seventy-two?” Camden pushes. “We could do it now.”

“Yes, you could. The person coming to remove the new leadership of Common Bend will remove whoever is in charge when he arrives. Either way, he won’t be here for seventy-two hours. Until then, we’re supposed to sit tight and play nice.”

“Is this mystery man possibly named Saint?” Dayton asks, mentioning Rafael’s old assassin code name.

“Saint’s retired,” she says, waving over the waitress. “Kingman isn’t.”

The men tense immediately. They know that name. I’ve heard it too over the years. Kingman works for the Arizona Moving Company, which is the Southwest’s version of Murder, Inc. The assassin agency uses Arizona cities for their code names. Kingman has been around for over a decade and reportedly killed three judges in California. Now Minka’s bluffing about the bastard heading to Common Bend.

Minka orders two shots of Cactus Juice Liqueur while the men have intense silent conversations. Ignoring them, Minka hands me a shot and says, “To our Arizona friends.”

She downs her shot and shudders at the flavor. I do the same except without the reaction. The liqueur takes like shit, but I have a tough guy rep to protect.

“Seems like a lot of effort,” Camden finally says, “for one little town.”

“Cops are a tricky target. I assume that’s why you haven’t removed the threat yourself.”

“It’s one reason, yeah.”

“I’m assuming our club is the other reason,” Vaughn adds, looking grumpy for the first time since arriving. “If shit gets messy, it’ll be in your backyard, not ours.”

“Nothing is getting messy,” I announce. “The status quo makes everyone happy, and why shouldn’t we want to be happy?”

Minka glances at me, and I see a hint of relief in her dark eyes. “In a little over seventy-two hours, our problem will be solved, and happiness will break out like a fucking rash. Now can we go?”

Minka doesn’t wait for their answer. She hands the waitress cash for the drinks plus a tip. Nodding at the twins, she walks past their big burly henchmen and out of the bar.

“I look forward to a time when we can text these things and save on gas,” I say before leaving.

Outside, Minka and I wait while the bikers do their bravado handshake bullshit. I miss that kind of showmanship of armed people trying to impress and frighten each other. I wonder if Minka misses her old life as a contract killer.

“Why did you retire?” I ask while we wait.

“Since leaving my mom’s house, I never stopped moving. Eventually, I got tired of traveling. I wanted to find a place and put down roots, so I convinced Troy to give Rafael’s setup a shot.”

“Good thing you did,” I murmur, giving her ass a quick slap.

“Don’t spank me in public. It’s not professional.”

I’m laughing when the Reapers leave the bar. They aren’t happy about my good mood, but their anger focuses mainly at Minka. She sees Vaughn about to complain and waves him off. Walking to the SUV, she glances around, and I also wonder if we’re being watched.

“You called in the Arizona Moving Company?” Vaughn demands before lowering his voice when Minka glances around again. “Are you nuts?”

“No. What are you so fucking worked up about?”

“His old club was out of Arizona,” Judd explains.

“The Devils?” I ask. “They’re dead, you know? I read about it in the papers during a stopover in Chicago. What’s the problem?”

“Cooper doesn’t want Arizona involved.”

Minka steps up to Vaughn, ready to throw down with the giant man. I’m ready to shoot anyone who so much as looks at her wrong.