The Outsider's Redemption

Cody Gannon. Illegitimate son. The words tore at his insides like crushed glass. Or shrapnel.

“Mitchell Forbes.” He said the name out loud, rolled it over his tongue, spit it past the disgusting lump that had settled in his throat.

A week ago, the man had been his hero. But that was before Cody had found out the truth about Mitchell. That’s why Cody’s gear was in his pickup truck. All he owned. Amazingly little. Jeans, shirts, boots, a couple of jackets, his guns and a saddle. Even his horse belonged to Mitchell and Texas Confidential.

He had no idea where he was headed, wasn’t even sure what town he’d stopped in. He didn’t much care anymore, as long as it was far away from the Smoking Barrel.

Regret balled in his gut. He tried to force it away, but he hadn’t drunk nearly enough to make it subside. Being a part of Texas Confidential had been more than a job. It had been his life. The first real commitment he’d ever made to anything. The best friends he’d ever had.

Now Cody had no choice but to walk away. Calderone and his band of murderous drug dealers would still be stopped, but Cody wouldn’t be in on the operation that brought them down.

“Thank you, Mitchell Forbes.” He downed the rest of the bourbon and pushed the glass away as a bearded man who smelled like he was two days past needing a bath slid onto the bar stool next to him.

“Buy me a drink, mister?”

“I’d sooner buy you a bar of soap.”

“Then save your money.”

“Suit yourself.” Cody stood and turned away from the drunk, ready to move to another stool or one of the tables in the back of the smoky saloon.

“You better save your money anyway. You’ll probably need it now that you’ve walked off your job.” The stranger leaned over the bar, his hands spread out flat on the marred wood.

Cody stopped and stared at him. His hair was gray, thin and wiry, and his skin was bronzed and weathered from hours spent in the sun. “What makes you think I lost my job?” he asked, studying the man’s facial expression as he waited for an answer.

“I don’t think. I know.” The man fingered the brim of a soiled western hat. “Tell me, is Penny still as bossy as ever?”

“I don’t know any Penny,” he lied.

“Sure you do. No one works at the Smoking Barrel without knowing Penny Archer.”

So that was it. The dirty drunk had probably worked for a while on one of the ranches near the Smoking Barrel, though he didn’t look familiar. It was no secret Cody worked for Mitchell Forbes. It was what he and the other Texas Confidential agents really did for Mitchell Forbes that was kept under wraps.

Still, the man made Cody nervous, and he might as well move on. He reached for his wallet and pulled out a few bills, enough to pay his tab and purchase one drink for the aging cowboy.

“You’re not leaving, are you?” The man reached over and wrapped his fingers around Cody’s left wrist. “I thought we’d get to be buddies.”

“Think again.”

“But we have so much to talk about. Mutual friends. A mutual enemy.”

Cody smoothed the bills he’d tossed to the table, instantly aware of the change to the man’s voice. He was no longer slurring his words, and his voice had lost all traces of frailty. He stared into the man’s eyes, and experienced a vague sense of déjà vu. “What enemy would that be?”

“I was thinking of Tomaso Calderone, but I guess if you’re not a Confidential anymore, you wouldn’t be interested.”

Cody swallowed hard. The man definitely had his attention now. No one outside of the powers in charge was supposed to know about Texas Confidential. The agents’ ability to do their job depended on people believing that they were just everyday cowboys running a ranch. So did staying alive. He lowered his voice to a mere whisper. “Who are you?”

The man met his gaze. “Don’t you recognize me, Cody?”

The voice was no longer disguised. It was smooth. Easy. Almost familiar. He squinted, taking in the wrinkles in the man’s face, his stringy beard, his wispy gray hair. The voice and the appearance didn’t match. He only knew one man who could come up with a disguise that good, and this couldn’t be him.

“I don’t have any idea who you are or what you want from me.”

“I’m Daniel Austin.”

“Daniel Austin is dead.”

“No. I’m too tough to die, though I wished for it a time or two.” His lips curled into a half smile. “I was captured by Rialto’s men, kept prisoner for months. Finally, I escaped, but by then, I knew enough about Calderone and how he worked that I was able to infiltrate his organization. I’ve worked my way all the way to the top. Calderone and me—we’re like that.” He indicated how close with two fingers on his right hand.

Cody shook his head. “No, Daniel is dead.”

“Because that’s what Mitchell Forbes told you? Believe me, that doesn’t make it true.”

Suspicion reared up inside Cody. He was supposed to be walking away from his life as a Texas Confidential agent, not being drawn into some secret conspiracy. But this man obviously knew all about them. And if he really was Daniel Austin…“Why would Mitchell be told you were dead if you’re not?”

“You know the head honchos. They don’t trust anyone.”

“They trust Mitchell Forbes.”

“Don’t be so sure.”

Cody tried to digest that last bit of information, but it boggled his mind. No one had ever infiltrated Calderone’s circle. And if someone did, and Calderone found out, the man’s body would be found in tiny pieces. Still, if anyone could do it, it would be Daniel Austin.

“So, if you’re so close to Calderone, what in the hell are you doing here?”

“My job. But I can’t do it alone.”

“Then you need to talk to Rafe or one of the others. I’m out.” Damn, here he was giving away information. The man was blowing his mind. He knew too much, but he couldn’t be Daniel Austin. Or could he?

“Listen, Cody. I know what you’re thinking, but you’re wrong. I didn’t just happen into this bar tonight. I followed you here. I need you. But before I give you the assignment, I have to be certain you’re not going to go running back to Mitchell Forbes.”

“Why’s that?”

Daniel, or at least the man claiming to be Daniel, stared straight ahead, his back still hunched, his head still low, as if he really were an elderly man. He didn’t face Cody when he talked, but when he paused, his Adam’s apple rode up and down like it was bobbing in a pail of water.

“As you know, someone has been leaking secrets to Calderone. We think it might be Mitchell himself.”

A curl of smoke from the cigarette of a man a few stools down wafted into Cody’s face. His eyes burned, but not nearly as severely as the acid that pooled in his stomach. There was a leak somewhere. That part was true. But, Mitchell?

Even as angry as Cody was with the man, he’d never imagined Mitchell capable of deceit where Texas Confidential was concerned. Not when stopping Calderone seemed to be the cause that fueled his incredible drive.

But this would be just like the department. The same minds that had dreamed up Texas Confidential would like nothing better than having Daniel Austin, their master of disguises, working so far undercover that even Calderone himself would take the man into his confidence.

“What is it you need me to do?” he asked, still suspicious, but warming to the idea of getting in on the action of bringing Calderone down. Especially when it meant he’d outdo Mitchell Forbes.

“I need you to go to the airport and pick up a woman named Sarah Rand. She’ll be flying into San Antonio and arriving at five o’clock tomorrow afternoon. After you pick her up, I’ll contact you and tell you where I’ll meet the two of you.”

“And who is this Sarah Rand?”