Oh.I look to the right as a beep sounds on the device. “Oh my god, it just fell out of the sky.”
CHAPTER 6
The dead drone is easy to spot. It’s a small alien spacecraft lying in a freshly plowed field.
“Stay put,” I yell back to River who’s watching me head toward the fence. “I don’t need you out here tromping around in the dark.”
I can feel her glare on my back as I jog to grab the evidence.
Someone’s close.
They’ll know I’m getting their drone, which means I waste no time hopping the fence again to get back to the truck.
As I toss the device onto the back floorboard, River’s leaning on the center console. “Can you tell who owns that thing?”
“I’ll find out, but it changes the stakes.”
“It could be a coincidence,” she says as she settles back into the passenger seat as I shift the truck into gear.
“Two in one day?”
She shrugs, curling up in the seat. “Bad luck comes in threes.”
“Threats don’t vanish without escalation and climax.”
“Ugh. You are such a pessimist.”
I turn up the heat. For her. Certainly not for me. My anger’s simmering.Fucking drone.
River goes quiet as she worries at her thumbnail. No more protests. Which bugs me more than when she’s snapping at me.
“We’re going to swap vehicles,” I say as I cue up some boring atmospheric music on my phone to help her relax. “Get some sleep. I’ll wake you when we get there.”
I reach into the back seat, grab the blanket. It’s there for her. For this mission.
Just like I wanted to know her prize horse would be safe. And all the other groundwork I laid once her brother called Lone Star Security just in case we had to go under protective cover.
“You don’t know how good that blanket looks right now. I’m so over this day. I’ve been toasted, manhandled multiple times, stalked, and oh, stalked again, this time by a drone.”
Stifling a yawn, River tucks the blanket around her.
“Lean the seat back. Do what you need to get some rest. I’d tell you to stretch out in the back, but I want you buckled in.”
“Figured you’d say as much.”
I still feel her looking at me five minutes later.
“Diesel…” she finally says, sleepy rasp to her words that makes me swallow roughly. “Thank you for taking care of Shasta.”
“No problem.”
When her hand touches my arm, I glance down. The sightof those strong, slender fingers resting on my forearm sends zingers through my nerves.
“Thank you for loving Caleb.”
Oh. Jesus.
“No problem.”
