Love Under Two Flyboys [The Lusty, Texas Collection] by Cara Covington (ebook reader browser .TXT) 📕

“Yes, I agree. All right, let’s move quickly. Can you unlock the house for me?”

“Yes, sir, no problem,” Dennis assured him.

Fortunately, the house and barn were hidden not only from neighbors, but from the state road by means of a long driveway and a small hillock, and some trees that formed a natural protective barrier from prying eyes.

Of course, that protection also meant that they wouldn’t be able to see anyone returning, either. He had no desire to be caught red-handed by Mr. Smith as he searched the man’s home.

Preston leaned close to his driver, Lorne. “I want you to drive out to the road and then park along it down from the lane. Let us know if anyone approaches. Be ready to come get me when I call.”

“Yes, sir.”

Preston followed Dennis to the house. Jimmy, the man Preston considered his second and the most intelligent of his men, waited, his gun drawn, his gaze scanning the area.

Dennis had the house’s front door open in under ten seconds. Preston nodded and clasped his shoulder. “I want you to have a look around that barn, and the fields beyond. See if you can find anything that might tell us something about the Piper.”

Dennis nodded and headed off. Preston entered the house, Jimmy behind him. They had their guns drawn, just in case the place really wasn’t deserted.

As he walked through the rooms, though, Preston thought the place felt empty.

“Mr. John Smith isn’t much of a housekeeper, is he?” Preston shook his head. The place looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in a decade or more. He felt his skin crawl the further into the building he ventured.

“And because there’s all this crap all over the damn place, there’s no way to know if the man went for beer, or simply left,” Jimmy said.

The two-story farmhouse boasted only one room upstairs that had furniture. The other two rooms were filled with boxes and crates and God knew what else.

“Must be one of those pathological hoarders I’ve read about,” Jimmy said.

“Well, there’re some clothes in the closet, but not a lot. Huh, one of his dresser drawers is completely empty.” Preston closed the drawer, careful to leave no prints. That was the biggest clue they had so far that the man might be gone for more than a few minutes.

Downstairs in what at one time had been a stylish dining room, on one end of the table, was the only item in the house not covered in filth and grime. The computer looked incongruous on the table, the sole nod to modern times the house contained.

“Huh. Damn near state-of-the-art. It’s turned off and cool, so it’s been off for a while,” Jimmy said. Then he turned the computer on.

“Christ, I don’t even know where else to look for anything. I’m half afraid of getting bitten by something or picking up some disease if I go through any of these piles of papers,” Preston said.

“Let’s hope he doesn’t clean anything up in here, either,” Jimmy said. “If his cookies and temporary Internet files are intact, we should be able to know something soon.”

The kitchen door opened. Preston spun around, gun aimed, then lowered it when Dennis appeared in the doorway.

“I think I found something, boss. You’ll want to come and take a look at this.”

Preston stepped outside and breathed deeply. He had a feeling he was going to have the suit he was wearing cleaned after today’s little adventure.

He followed Dennis as the man led him away from the house. Beyond the barn a pasture of grass spread out for what had to be acres. The Abilene area had seen some rain in the last week, more than what was normal for the month of November. The field felt soft to walk on and had obviously been even softer a few days before.

Preston looked down at the tracks, apparently made by a large, heavy truck. “No way of knowing when these tracks were made for sure, but I’m thinking after last Monday.” Missed it by a couple of days. If he’d gotten here a couple of days earlier, he’d have been successful. I was so fucking close to grabbing that plane.

Several feet away were indentations in the grass made by two single tires, about four feet apart. He followed those across the field, away from the barn, until they simply stopped.

“Fuck.” He had no doubt at all those tracks were made by the Piper when it lifted off. He headed back toward the barn. “Likely a gas truck,” he said, pointing to the heavier tracks.

“Can’t be that many companies that make those kinds of deliveries,” Dennis said. “Maybe we can track them down. They would have a name, wouldn’t they? Doubtful the farmer here paid for the gas. That would be on whoever picked up the plane.”

“I think you’d be surprised how many companies there are, but yeah, good thinking.” He could chase that down, of course, and would. He headed back into the house.

“Anything yet, Jimmy?”

“It appears Mr. Smith has taken a vacation. He grabbed a last-minute deal from an Internet travel agent. The man has flown off to Miami. Plane left just this morning, in fact. There he’ll board a cruise ship.”

“Well, since he won’t be back, let’s take this pile of shit with us. You can work your magic on it and see if you can find out where the plane went.”

“He has a Money Buddy account because he has the site bookmarked. Don’t worry, sir, if there’s a money trail to be found, I’ll find it.”

Preston pulled out his cell phone to call Lorne. “Find it fast, Jimmy. If we don’t get our hands on that Piper soon, Ramos will see to it we’re all nothing more than rotting carcasses left in the desert as carrion.”

* * * *

Tamara awoke to the delicious sensation of having her pussy licked.

The slow slide of a wet tongue along the edges of her labia, the slight flirty