Tag, You're It! (20 page)

"Cars don't usually bite," Tag pointed out.

"They do where I come from," Franky said.

"What is it with you people, talking all the time?" Mick wanted to know. "Let's hit the road."

"There aren't a lot of roads where we're going."

"Or streetlights," Tag put in. "That's why it's always so much fun to travel at night."

"At least you're still alive," Mick said.

"You don't want us dead," Tag said. "You want us to find the treasure."

"What I want right now is for you to shut up."

They all sat there for a couple of minutes, nothing but the slight sigh of the wind and the occasional creak of leather to break the stillness, and then Mick asked, "Which way do we go?"

Alex didn't say anything; neither did Tag.

"Mick asked you which way," Franky said.

"Oh, we can talk now?"

Franky pulled on his reins, and his horse sidled over next to Alex.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Tag said, "you might end up—"

Jackass nipped at Franky's horse, Franky's horse went wonky and launched Franky into the air.

"—on your ass in the dirt," Tag finished.

Franky climbed stiffly to his feet, hissed in a breath and cupped his balls, then limped in Alex's direction, dragging his gun out of his shoulder holster. Tag got there before him, but Franky didn't point the gun at Alex, he pointed it at Jackass. The horse rolled his eyes, but he didn't move.

"You want to go look for the treasure or do you want to shoot Alex's horse?" Tag asked Franky.

"Both."

"Which is more important to you?"

"Get back on your horse, Franky."

"But Mick—"

"Now."

"Not so fast," Alex said before he could heave his bulk into the saddle. "You aren't treating that animal like that again."

"Like what?"

"Sawing on the reins hurts her mouth. She's not stupid. A little nudge goes a long way."

"Oh." Franky walked around to look in his horse's face. "I didn't know she was a girl," he said, looking up at Alex. "Maybe I'm too heavy for her."

Mick gave him a shove with his foot. "Just get on the damn thing. We ain't got all night."

Franky took a deep breath, huffed it out, and put his foot in the stirrup, dragging himself upright and standing there until Jackass nipped at his backside, at which point he vaulted into the saddle and groaned in pain.

Jackass nickered out a laugh, nudging Tag with his head as if he wanted to share the joke.

"I think he likes you," Alex said to Tag.

"I'm touched." And stupidly, he actually was. Next to Alex, Jackass was the… creature whose respect it had taken him the longest to earn.

"The minute this thing is over, I'm shooting that bastard," Franky grumbled.

Jackass snorted and rolled his eyes in a take-your-best-shot kind of way.

"Men," Alex said, then leaned forward and patted Jackass on the neck. "Take the high road," she said in his ear.

"Jesus, she's talking to the horse," Franky announced.

"She does that a lot," Tag said.

Alex looked over at him. "He's the one I thought would listen."

THEY RODE ALL NIGHT. AGAIN. DAWN WAS BREAKING when Alex stopped Jackass. Tag would have stayed where he was until some of his muscles unknotted, but she looked over at him. It wasn't like she challenged him or anything, but she swung down from Jackass so effortlessly he felt compelled to do the same. He hoped it looked a hell of a lot better than it felt.

"What do you think?" she asked.

Tag shrugged. That hurt, too. "You're the expert," he said when there was a fair chance he could manage actual words instead of just groaning.

"Why don't you look at the map?" Mick suggested.

"How do you know we have the map?" Alex asked him.

His gaze flipped to Tag. So did hers. Tag didn't so much as breathe for fear he'd give something away, and he didn't mean his personal agony,

"We followed you in Denver," Mick finally said. "Talked to the, uh, chick in the library."

"The librarian?" Alex asked.

"Yeah, sure, the librarian."

Alex narrowed her eyes, but nobody contradicted Mick because, Tag thought, it was a perfectly plausible explanation. Mick and Franky had been following them in Denver; they could have pumped Ms. Newstead for information, and the woman probably wouldn't have thought twice about telling them. Alex didn't look entirely convinced, though, and when Tag saw her turning his way he got real busy unloading Angel.

But he could feel her watching him. And wondering.

"We are camping here, right?" he asked.

"This is as good a place as any," Alex said. "We can't be far from the first landmark on the map." She glanced over at Mick, but he was currently ignoring her to wander off and answer nature's call. He didn't go far enough for her taste. She made a face and turned back to Tag. "This little valley will allow us to have a fire that can't be seen for miles around. We can stay here for a few days, search the surrounding area, then move on if necessary."

"A few days?" Franky asked, switching his focus to Mick when he strolled back to join them. "How long we gonna be out here?"

"Until we find the treasure," Tag said. "There's no telling how long that will take."

"Then I guess we better get moving," Mick said. "I ain't sleeping on the ground forever."

"I am." Alex pulled the packs off Jackass and dropped them. "Sleeping on the ground, that is. Just as soon as I take care of my horse. I was up all night. I'm not hiking this kind of terrain while I'm exhausted, and even if I did, I wouldn't be any good."

Tag had to admit she had a point. They'd ridden pretty much due north from Casteel, bypassing her valley and leaving the pine forest behind. The terrain had gradually morphed from low, leafy plants and wood debris into an area of rocky outcroppings and low, scrubby underbrush.

But it wasn't just the landscape they needed to worry about. "There's no telling who might be wandering around out there," he said, "and since you won't return our guns we have no way to protect ourselves."

"You don't need a gun," Mick said, "we'll watch out for you."

Right, Tag thought, if it came to armed conflict Franky was likely to shoot them in the back and blame it on the other guys so he could get back to civilization.

Tag looked over at Alex and knew she was thinking the same thing. They had to figure out a way to get rid of these bozos, or get away from them. But there was no way they could come up with a plan with Harper's hirelings listening in, and it wasn't just them overhearing the discussion that concerned Tag.

He was walking a fine line. He couldn't appear too friendly with Alex in front of guys, who would report it back to Harper, but he couldn't let her think he was done with her, either. Because he wasn't. Not even close. And if she thought he was done with her, she'd treat him like the enemy. He couldn't afford to have her working against him, not if they were both going to get through this thing in one piece.

He had to find a way to make it look like they were only putting up with each other for the sake of the treasure, nothing personal.

He said as much to her when she laid their bedrolls out side by side, tipping his head toward Harper's bad guys.

"Nothing personal," she repeated, looking at Mick, then Franky. Realization dawned, and she nudged the bedrolls apart a couple of feet.

She didn't look upset while she did it, so Tag figured they were on the same wavelength. Consciously.

Subconsciously there seemed to be a different agenda altogether, and while a two-foot separation might be enough to fool Mick and Franky into thinking there was nothing personal between them, it wasn't nearly enough distance for their libidos to overcome.

Somehow during the course of the morning they wound up spooned around each other. At least Alex couldn't blame him for it, Tag thought, since they seemed to have met in the middle, a compromise they couldn't always manage during their waking hours. And there was nothing he could do about it. Except simmer.

He wasn't the only one, either. Alex was in one of her moods, pulled back into herself, completely uncommunicative—unless it was to hand out orders.

They'd camped at the mouth of the valley where they should find the first site named on Juan's map.
La Cruz de Piedra
, which translated to "Cross of Stone." It sounded obvious, but if it was really obvious, Tag figured somebody would have found it before now. Bottom line? They had no clue what they were looking for. But Alex seemed reasonably confident they were looking in the right genarea.

It was a lot of territory, though. Alex led Mick, Franky, and Tag down one side of the valley, searching every nook and cranny big enough to hide a poker chip, leaving no stone unturned, literally. She enlisted the three men to move any boulders that might be hiding the mouth of a cave or small opening until Tag pointed out that Juan Amparo would likely have been alone when he hid the treasure. After that she let them take turns.

It couldn't have been much over sixty-five degrees, but the sky was cloudless, the air was breezeless, and the landwas treeless. The sun had been beating down on the rocks all day, and the rocks were currently reflecting heat back in shimmering waves. They were sweaty, tired, and thirsty, and Alex had gone from grumpy to genial, her tembrightening the longer she watched them toil, although Tag wasn't sure why she included him in the punishing work. Until he remembered how they'd met.

"Getting a little retribution?" he asked a couple hours after they'd started their trek up the valley.

"As a matter of fact," she said, grinning.

"Retribution," Franky repeated. "Does that mean she's only doing this to get back at us?"

"I'm doing this because somebody has to look behind the rocks, and since you insist on tagging along, you might as well make yourself useful."

Franky plopped down on a handy boulder. "I ain't moving no more rocks. I'm tired and I'm hot and I'm sitting right here for a while."

"Okay, you sit right there, but if I were you I'd watch out for the wildlife."

"Wildlife?" Franky shifted his ass from one cheek to the other, checking underneath it and finding nothing but rock.

"She's just talking about rattlesnakes," Mick said, "and you'd hear one of them before it got close enough to bite you."

"Sure, rattlers make noise to scare you off, but bears don't, or mountain lions."

"Wouldn't we see something that big coming?" Tag asked, although he was clearly amused.

Alex shrugged. "Maybe, but there are lizards everywhere."

Franky's gaze skittered to hers.

"And spiders. Yellow sacs, hobos, black widows. But those are just the poisonous ones. And they especially like rocks. Nice warm rocks."

Franky yelped and jumped up. Mick rolled his eyes. "She's just screwing with you, dumbass."

Franky didn't sit back down. "What did I ever do to you?" he demanded.

"You're kidding, right?"

"Hey, lady." He stabbed a beefy finger in her direction. "You ain't the only one suffering. You think I want to be out here walking around in these fucking boots? Who invented them anyway? Why are the toes pointed and why do they hurt like hell?"

"Aw, are your feet sore?" Alex asked. "I'm all broken up for you."

Franky lunged for her, but Mick held him back.

"If we finish this site before dark," Alex taunted, "we can ride to the next one in the morning."

"She's asking for it, Mick."

"What? I'm only trying to get you off your feet."

"And on that damn horse again." He cupped his balls and grimaced.

"You know an ice pack would probably help that— Oh, we don't have any ice out here, do we?"

This time it took Mick and Tag to hold him back until he got his temper under control and shoved away from them.

"You have a real mean streak," Tag said, taking Alex by the arm and towing her off a little ways. "It's fun to watch Franky's face turn purple, but maybe you should try to remember they have the guns."

"They won't shoot us."

"Mick won't," Tag corrected. "Franky is standing on the psycho ledge and you keep trying to push him off."

"I'm the one who's being pushed around. I'm just pushback. Why are you so worried about toeing the line?"

"I'm waiting for the right moment. The longer we're out here, the more tired they'll get. In the meantime we're dowhat we wanted to do anyway, and that's look for the treasure. Jesus, Alex, try to see the big picture."

"That's what I've been trying to do since you fell in my valley." She tore her arm out of his grip. "I know where they fit in," she said, tipping her head toward Mick and Franky, "and I know where I stand. You're the only shadow, Tag."

"If they know how… close we are, they'll play us off against each other." She didn't look convinced. "I'm trying to buy some time until we can figure out how to get away from them."

"Maybe if I had the first clue what you were up to, I could be a real partner instead of always playing catch-up." She walked away and left him standing there with an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach. Probably impending doom.

"Let's get moving," she said for everyone's benefit.

"What's your hurry?" Franky wanted to know. "Why don't we just call it a day?"

"We ain't had very much sleep," Mick chimed in. "You two got a solid six."

"Yeah," Franky added, "and you looked pretty cozy, too."

"It was cold," Alex said.

"And I'm not above taking what's offered," Tag added. He could see, even though she knew what he was doing and why, that she was pissed off. But there were more important considerations.

Mick and Franky had been in a hell of a hurry to get out in the field, but now they didn't seem the least anxious to look for the treasure. Letting them sleep the morning away, for starters, proved they weren't overeager. Sure, Alex hadn't given them much choice, but they hadn't even argued with her. And now they wanted to take the rest of the day off? True, they had to be tired, but Harper wasn't a patient man. Mick should be pushing them, not holding them back.

"This is stupid," Alex said. "If you want to go back to camp, go ahead. I'm going to finish up here."

She headed off, not giving a damn if anyone came with her. Including him, Tag decided. Or maybe she'd taken his tongue lashing to heart, and she was putting on a show for the kidnappers. But did she have to be so damn good at it?

He'd started the trek thinking this hostage thing wasn't so bad. And sure, if Mick and Franky hadn't been around he'd have been able to sleep a whole lot closer to Alex and there wouldn't be this urge percolating constantly under his skin. But at least they got to sleep. Mick and Franky had to take turns standing guard. These guys weren't rocket scientists to begin with; as the nights added up and they got more and more tired, sooner or later one of them would let something slip. Tag was betting on Franky, and he was betting on sooner. Of course, he'd have to make damn sure it wasn't Harper's name. That would be a huge mess. But he thought he could control that. He just had to keep Alex from provoking Franky into strangling her with his bare hands.

Not a bad game plan. Now all he had to do was remember it. Alex wasn't making it easy, striding along about ten yards ahead, arms swinging, ass swinging, well-toned muscles flexing in a way that made him think of sex. Hot, sweaty, any-flat-surface-handy sex. If she'd been trying to torture him, she couldn't have chosen a better way. And then she notched the torture up to excruciating by stripping her T-shirt over her head, stuffing it in her back pocket so it flapped behind her like a flag, and walking off in nothing but her sports bra and jeans that had faded and shrunk to fit her like a second skin.

He'd cooled off once they stopped moving; he reheated so fast he felt like a baked potato in a microwave. And somebody had forgotten the little fork holes. He caught up with her and ripped the shirt out of her pocket, holding it out before the top of his skull blew off from the pressure. "Put this back on," he said, holding it out.

She glanced at the shirt, then lifted her eyes to his face, giving him a look that would have singed his eyebrows, if he hadn't already been at thermostatic overload. "No."

"This isn't a game, Alex."