Page 17 of Lone Star Wanted
Kincade caught it with one hand, already unzipping the main compartment as they moved toward Cassidy’s truck. Inside, it was exactly what he expected.
And more.
A Glock 19 with two spare mags. A compact SIG in a nylon holster. A full clip of .40 hollow points and two boxes of backup ammo. Satellite phone, burner cell, and a charger kit. A roll of cash, two prepaid credit cards, a passport that wasn’t his but would pass in a pinch. A med kit with blood clotting spray, gauze, bandages, and epinephrine. A change of clothes, energy bars, electrolyte packets, and a sealed bottle of water.
Kincade dug through the inner mesh pouch and paused, brow furrowing. He held up a foil-wrapped condom and looked over at Jericho.
Jericho shrugged. “Never know how a mission’s gonna end. Might as well be prepared.”
Cassidy snorted behind him but didn’t comment.
Kincade shoved the condom to the bottom of the pack and zipped it shut. Even now, it was best not to think of condoms or sex around Cassidy. The heat between them didn’t need help like that.
“Let’s move,” Cassidy said, already sliding behind the wheel.
Kincade tossed the backpack on the floor of the truck and climbed in beside her as Jericho headed to his own vehicle. They pulled out, the tires kicking up dust as they turned east toward Clear Rock. The road narrowed quickly, giving way to rugged terrain and long shadows across the asphalt.
Mesas and low hills rose in the distance, brush thick along the fences, the land untouched and wide open. The Texas Hill Country was beautiful, but tonight it felt different. Not peaceful.
Predatory.
It was a very uneasy feeling to know they could have a murdering cop on their hands.
The road unwound in front of them, narrow and cracked, cutting through cedar-lined hills and dry pastures that rolled in every direction. Cassidy kept one hand on the wheel, eyes sharp, shoulders tight. She hadn’t said much since they left the clinic, but Kincade could feel the tension radiating off her in waves.
He powered on the burner phone Jericho had supplied and opened a secure app to start a background run on Marlene Lang. It took less than a minute for the results to load.
“Lang’s thirty-five,” he said, scrolling. “Born and raised in the county. Divorced. No kids. Got her badge just under twelve years ago.”
Cassidy flicked him a glance. “Which means she was a rookie when Alisha was murdered.”
“Yep.” Kincade kept reading. “Clean record. Commendations for community work, two letters of recognition, one temporary suspension for excessive force—later cleared. No red flags on paper. No internal affairs cases that stuck.” He lowered the phone slightly. “Nothing stands out.”
Cassidy’s jaw tightened. “Which makes her the perfect choice for something like this. Quiet. Controlled. Not the type you’d suspect.”
“Exactly,” Kincade said. He hesitated, then added, “You know she might try to kill us.”
Cassidy nodded once, her grip tightening on the wheel. “Yeah. I know.”
Her voice was steady, but there was something underneath it. Resolve, and maybe something darker.
“But we don’t have a choice,” she said.
Kincade studied her profile, the sharp line of her jaw, the quiet fire in her eyes. “We’ve got footage. Her, with a gun onTravis. That’s enough to bring her in. We could turn her over to the Rangers.”
Cassidy exhaled slowly. “Part of me wants to. Wants to see her arrested, booked, processed with every damn step of it on the record.”
“But?”
“But going to anyone in law enforcement is too big of a risk,” she said, her voice low. “We don’t know how far this goes. Who else is involved. Travis warned us not to trust anyone in law enforcement.”
Kincade nodded. “So we walk into it alone.”
She glanced at him again, the corners of her mouth tilting slightly. “You say that like we haven’t done it before.”
Kincade leaned back in the seat, hand resting near the backpack at his feet. “Yeah. But this time, it’s personal.”
He wasn’t going to let it end in another body in the dirt. Not Travis. And not Cassidy either.
