Showdown in West Texas

“All the more impressive that we maintain our rigid standards.”

Cage hadn’t noticed before the way her lips turned up slightly at the corners, or the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled. She really was a very pretty woman.

“So, E.T. or undocumented workers?” he asked, deciding a little flirtation wouldn’t do any harm. As long as he was stuck here, he might as well make the wait pleasant.

“Excuse me?”

“You said aliens were responsible for the cell phone blackout around here,” he reminded her.

Frank laughed. “That would be E.T.,” he said. “Sadie here drives out to the desert every night with a lawn chair and a six-pack hoping for her very own close encounter.”

“Ha-ha, very funny,” she said as she took a rag and started wiping down the already spotless bar. “I happen to like watching the desert sky. It’s beautiful, and you’d be amazed at some of the things you can see out there.”

An argument erupted behind them, and Sadie’s smile faded as her gaze shot to the table in the corner. But when Cage started to turn, she put her hand on his arm and said softly, “Nah-uh, hon. Best to mind your own business around here.”

“I find it best to do that most everywhere,” Cage said.

She nodded. “Smart man.”

Someone from the table called out her name. She and Frank exchanged a quick look before she rounded the bar and hurried over to the table.

Cage watched in the mirror as a tall, dark man with a ponytail down his back rose from the table and took Sadie’s arm. She flung off his hand and said something in Spanish, her tone furious. A chortle rose from the group, and she shot a murderous look at the whole table.

“Perros mugrientos,” she muttered as she came back over to the bar.

“Everything okay?” Cage asked.

She shrugged.

“Boyfriend trouble?”

“Husband,” she said with an apologetic smile.

Cage’s gaze dropped to her left hand.

“I don’t wear a ring,” she said. “It drives Sergio crazy.”

“From now on, take the family squabbles outside,” Frank said. “I don’t want any trouble in here.”

“You were asking for trouble the minute you agreed to let them meet here,” she warned angrily.

“Why don’t you just take the rest of the day off?” Frank said. “I can handle things here.”

Sadie glared at him. “No way. I’ll tell you the same thing I just told Sergio. I’m not leaving until I’m damn good and ready. Or until you fire me.”

“You know I’m not going to fire you,” Frank said wearily.

“Then let me stay and do my job. You won’t have any more trouble. Not from Sergio. I’ll make sure of that.” She turned to Cage with a weak smile. “Sorry about the floor show.”

He shrugged. “We’ve all got problems.”

“Another beer?”

“I need to find a phone first.”

“There’s a pay phone in the back.” She waved a hand in the general vicinity. “Need some quarters?”

“I’ve got a credit card, but thanks.”

She picked up his cell phone and slipped it into the pocket of her apron. When he lifted a questioning brow, she grinned. “Insurance, so you don’t get the bright idea of skipping out on your bill.”

“She’s only half joking,” Frank said.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back. But you do realize that thing is pretty much worthless around here.”

Cage knew he was the focus of attention from the men at the table, and he sized them up as best he could from the corner of his eye as he headed toward the back. Three young Hispanics and two middle-aged Caucasians. All thugs, by the looks of them, but Cage wasn’t about to involve himself in whatever shady dealings they were plotting. All he wanted to do was get his car running and make tracks for El Paso, the sooner the better.

He located the phone and punched in a series of numbers, including his credit card number. The dark-haired man—Sergio—brushed past him on his way to the restroom. Cage caught a glimpse of a nasty-looking scar that curved around the man’s throat before he disappeared through the door.

Cage had seen a scar like that only one other time—on an ex-con who’d had his throat slashed in a prison brawl.

He stared after the man for a moment, then turned back anxiously to the phone when his party answered on the other end.

“It’s Cage.”

“¿Qué pasa, tío?” Andy Sikes drawled jovially. “You already in town?”

“No, that’s why I’m calling. I’ve run into a little trouble on the road.”

“What kind of trouble?” Andy asked suspiciously. The two men went back a long way, far enough that Andy was a little too familiar with Cage’s track record.

“My car broke down. I’m about a hundred and eighty miles from El Paso in a little Podunk place called San Miguel. Doesn’t look good about making that four o’clock meeting.”

“Damn it, Cage—”

“I know, I know, you went out on a limb to set it up for me—”

“Jumped through hoops is more like it. It’s not just your ass on the line here. If you don’t make that meeting, my boss is going to be muy ticked off, and that’s putting it mildly.”

“I hear you. But there’s nothing I can do but wait for a part. If I can get on the road within the next hour, I may still be able to make it. It’d help, though, if you’d run a little interference for me.”

“Stall, you mean.”

“Just for an hour or so.”

Andy’s exasperated sigh came through loud and clear. “I’ll do what I can, but you get your ugly hide to El Paso if you have to sprout wings out your butt and fly here.”

“I will. And I owe you one, okay?”