Gut reaction? Well-honed instincts said he was being watched. From off to his left he heard movement, the kind made deliberately to grab his attention.
“Step from between those cars. And keep your hands where I can see them,” Cain said, keeping his eyes trained on the point of sound, he eased toward the gun holstered on his inner calf.
A double knock, then pause, then knock echoed forth. “Wouldn’t reach for that hideaway if I were you, Doc. I’d hate to have to shoot you.”
Might have been four years, but Cain still recognized the voice of the man he’d named Shadow a few jobs back. Also, recognized the code they’d used back then.
“I doubt you can hit the side of a billboard,” Cain said.
“Could if it was shooting at me.” The man stepped forward into the edge of the streetlight’s glow. “I heard you were in the area but didn’t believe it till I saw you tonight.”
“Last time I saw you was in Texas. Looks like you got a new hat.” Cain tossed the Stetson to him.
“Yeah. Somebody shot a hole in the other one.”
Cain swept his gaze from one end of the lot to the other. For the most part, he trusted Shadow, but Cain was still a careful man. “Enough of the friendly bullshit. You alone?”
“Yep. At the moment.” Shadow took a couple steps forward, then jerked back as headlights from a car leaving Joanie’s glared in his direction.
Cain ducked behind the hood of the closest truck and pulled his gun. In silhouette, Shadow did the same. The two men stayed still as concrete. Watching each other. Evaluating. Deciding.
Content that the lights had come from a customer’s car, Cain holstered his weapon and stepped forward, holding out his hand. Sometimes a man had to take a chance.
Shadow did the same. “So, tell me, Connery. Which side of the law are you working this time?”
“Neither. I’m just here remodeling my dad’s house. Need to sell it. What about you? You on assignment?”
“Yeah, trying to get a handle on what and who’s making a move here in the Midwest.”
Cain couldn’t help but notice the man looked tired. Cases could do that to an agent. Working deep cover, like Shadow usually did, could not only grind you down physically, but pushed your emotions to the break point. Especially if you were married.
“How’s your wife?” Cain asked.
Shadow sighed long and hard as he centered his Stetson on his head. “Me and her parted ways. Got a divorce a little over a year ago.” He walked deeper into the shadows and leaned against the brick building. “She just couldn’t take my undercover life anymore.”
“Sorry, man.”
“Tell you the truth, there’s days I can barely stand this way of living anymore myself.”
Cain leaned back beside his DEA friend. There weren’t a lot of people an agent could talk to personally without wondering if it meant risking his job or his life.
“Besides taking a leave of absence to work on my dad’s house, I’ve kind of been thinking about quitting the DEA, too,” Cain said.
“What would you do?”
He shrugged. “Start a security business. Maybe a self-defense or survival school.”
“Sounds interesting…or a quick way to lose your shirt if things don’t pan out.”
“Yeah, that’s my thoughts, too.” Some days, Cain had the whole setup figured out in his mind. Others day, he wondered if there was even enough call for that kind of training in this area of the country. Deciding always seemed just out of reach.
Shadow stood away from the wall. “I know this was your hometown, but not lately. You haven’t been here but a couple of months, but you must have picked up on what makes this place tick over a decade since you left.”
“You’re the second person tonight to remind me I’ve only been here a couple months. As for what’s happening, you probably know a lot more than I do.” Cain grinned. “What kind of case are you working?”
“Drugs. Guns. Captains. Lieutenants. Distribution networks already in place. Routes etched in miles of interstates.” Shadow glanced around the area. “Usual stuff.”
Cain had always known drug courier routes ran south to north through Missouri. In addition, his last couple of jobs on the East Coast had opened his eyes to some gun running through the Midwest.
