Courage Under Fire (Silver Creek #2) - Lindsay McKenna Page 0,53
A criminal named Brock Hauptman, a go-between for the Pablo Gonzalez drug team and his crew, was to meet him. It was the first such meeting after a lot of phone calls between them.
Dirk trusted no one. He wore a pistol in his belt, the hoodie covering the fact. He went nowhere without a gun. And he’d driven here himself, avoiding anyplace where he could be identified, have someone take a photo of his mug, and then potentially set law enforcement on his ass. He glanced at his watch. It was nearly noon and he was hungry as hell. He didn’t know what Hauptman looked like, but that was fine with him. No email photos were sent, either. Criminals like himself wanted a very low profile, their faces left unidentified for good reason.
A black pickup drove up. A large man, at least six foot two, about forty years old, with a black-and-white scrub beard showing his age, climbed out. His dark brown gaze cut to Dirk and he sized him up. Hauptman wore a pair of jeans and a nondescript brown shirt that wouldn’t draw much attention. He did, however, have a straw cowboy hat on his head and he wore a pair of well-worn cowboy boots. Probably trying to fit into this valley, Dirk thought, since it was mainly ranches of one sort or another.
Straightening, Dirk remained leaning against the corrugated aluminum wall near the locked front door. The man was tall, muscular, and meaty beneath his clothes. He found it humorous that Hauptman, who was coming around the front of his truck, his small brown eyes narrowed on him, was playing the part of a cowboy, when in reality, he was a white supremacist who hated anything other than white skin, and had been to prison several times. The scar on his left cheek was at least an inch long, Dirk guessed, and came out of some kind of fight. Probably in prison. Hauptman moved with the confidence of a man who knew exactly who he was.
“Bannock?” he snapped, coming to a halt six feet away, raking him up and down with his gaze.
“Yeah. Hauptman?”
“Yeah.” He thrust his large, thick hand outward toward Bannock. “Let’s go get somethin’ to eat. We’ll chat a little, fill our stomachs, and then we’ll see what happens next.”
Shaking his hand, Dirk said, “Fine with me.”
“The place I’m taking you, Olive Oyle’s, has good food, all kinds of choices. Hop in.” He gestured to the truck.
“I want to sit somewhere away from any cameras so I can’t be ID’d,” Dirk told him, climbing in. He noticed, on Hauptman, as his sleeve pulled up, a Nazi tattoo just above his thick, large wrist. Like himself, all of Dirk’s tattoos where hidden beneath his garments.
“No worries. I don’t come into Silver Creek too often, but there’s a nice corner booth beneath the camera, so it won’t be taking photos of us.”
Slamming the door shut, Dirk said, “Suits me. Let’s rock it out.”
* * *
Cari had decided to use her newly acquired confidence and had driven into Silver Creek by herself to run a few errands. Her confidence was based upon several things. First, she practiced her walking silently every morning for at least half an hour. She found getting up at dawn and watching the sun rise was a wonderful time to practice. It didn’t take anything out of her hectic, busy day, and that was good.
Every time she thought about Chase, her whole chest warmed up. During the past few weeks, he’d taught her more and more, so that she was beginning to build a new kind of confidence she’d never acquired before. For that, she was grateful. He was a wonderful teacher, patient, explaining everything, and today she was going to test it all out. She hoped he would be proud of her efforts.
Parking in the back lot of Olive Oyle’s, her favorite restaurant, she hurried in the side door. Chase had taught her to never go in a front door if the place of business had a side exit. He told her terrorists always wanted two things: big, plateglass windows along with a front entrance. It was easy to kill people that way. Not that he thought that Silver Creek would be attacked by terrorists, but she should always know her entrance/exit points. So, today she was going to put all that teaching to use!
Feeling good, she settled the green baseball cap on her head. It was a bit coolish, with rain