Empire of Dirt, page 9
part #3 of The da Silva Heirs Series
“You like this?”
“Yes, yes. Keep going, Tate. Please come inside.”
“Oh, Princess, you know I will.”
He wanted to drag his hands back to her hips and slam himself deeper and harder, but he forced himself to stay where he was. Someday, when he knew she was really ready, they’d play rough. Right now, bent over his desk, legs spread and his hand on her clit was dirty enough.
He also made a note to himself to find another way to take her from behind; he couldn’t feel her gorgeous tits like this.
On that thought, of her gorgeous breasts pressed against his desktop, he could feel his own pleasure rising. He wanted to see if Marcy was able to come again before that—
“Oh, shit, Tate,” she breathed loudly, and her whole body fluttered and jerked around him. Her greedy, wanting sex tried to pull him in deeper as the orgasm raced through her.
A second later, he was done. He spilled his cum inside her, his pleasure coating her walls and mixing with her own. Grunting once, twice, he held himself deep until her body drew the last of him out.
Slipping a hand under her stomach, he lifted her up from the desk and pulled her back against his chest. She turned her head and he found her lips. The kiss was scorching, but Tate was able to retain enough of his mind to spin her back around and drop them both on bed across the room.
“That’s good stuff.” She smiled.
Tate kissed her nose. “We have definitely got to do this more often.”
Grinning, she ran a hand down his relaxed shaft. “We do. That was a serious...climax.”
The bed shook with his chuckle. “Didn’t hear you complain.”
“You held back a bit didn’t you?”
“Of course. I don’t know your limits yet.”
“Thank you. It was still amazing.”
He glanced down at them lying there. “We’re a right proper mess.”
“Well, I’ve just been right proper shagged, so whatever. Socks—they’re a two-piece outfit.”
“You’re not wearing socks.”
“I’m not wearing much at all. You seem to be entirely too dressed for this occasion.”
“Well, I was going to slip clothes back on…”
Marcy wrapped her arms around him and rolled so he lie on top of her, and he instantly felt himself stirring in the cradle of her thighs.
“I was kind of hoping for another go.”
Pausing, Tate threw a glance at the door. “Why not. Door’s locked.”
“Good. Lose the pants.”
Chapter Thirteen
Four days later…
Marcy had never considered herself a thief.
A little dishonest here and there, a white lie or two to get out of trouble.
But an out-and-out burglar?
Not until her sister’s freedom was on the line, apparently.
After she and Tate had shown Drexler—and Reg, RJ, and Joseph—all the information he had gathered to prove that Cady and Lucy were digitized in, he had sat back quietly and stared at them. Tate took the silence as interest and went on.
“We spent time driving around and checking out a few of the feed bins and silos, and there were only four square bins and only two of those were metal. The rest were concrete.”
“What made you focus on the metal again?” Joseph asked.
“There were beams in the background of the images—corrugated metal sheeting and metal beams,” Marcy said. “Most of the farmers around here prefer the concrete because it keeps the feed cooler in the heat.”
“And you narrowed it down to Magruder’s.”
Tate nodded. “Yes. Magruder has always been after Smythe to sell that back section to him. Years. And…”
Drexler leaned forward. “What? And what?”
“He’s playing off of Smythe’s superstition.”
There was a pause, and then Frank nodded again. “Explain.”
“Blackhorn lost four cows in a week. And not from natural causes. They were violently sick.”
Tate nodded and cut in. “They start showing signs about a week before. Right about the time of Princess’ breech.”
Frank wrinkled his brow. “What’s that got to do with price of cheese in Finland?”
Tate leaned forward and folded his arms. “Smythe is superstitious. He’s super superstitious. It’s hard to explain how out of control it can be with him. If the cattle that died took sick on the day that Princess delivered, he’s gonna call up Satan and ask what hoodoo he put on his herd.”
“Why would he ever think that a breeched cow would be the cause of his herds’ illness.”
“Lucy helped deliver.” Marcy’s answer was straightforward.
Frank stared at her. “Yes? Go on. I heard she’s good with animals.”
“She’s not just good with animals,” RJ said. “She’s magical. Literally. She’s got natural magic that lets her connect with animals far more than any mere horse whisperer can do.”
Joseph sat up. “Cady has hoodoo magic. She got here just before the cow’s breech birth.”
Frank ran a hand down his face. “Are you trying to tell me that Smythe is going after my two clients because he thinks they’re witches?”
RJ held up a hand. “Who would have told him? Lucy doesn’t go around with a wand screaming expecto patronum. She’s quiet about it. She helps where and when she can. She hasn’t hung a shingle declaring ‘Fortunes Told Here.’ Cady, I expect, is the same.”
Joseph nodded. “Her shingle says ‘Physical Therapist.’”
“Now, before we go an iota further…” Frank’s voice was loaded with caution. “I want to know if you tried to hack Magruder’s network to get that file.”
“That’s why we’re here,” Tate answered. “I tried. There is scattershot everywhere on his network that this file exists. It was on the system. But there is absolutely no file anywhere. I can’t find anything that could lead me to the file.”
“You talked to Saxon Abbott already?”
“First person I talked to. Same thing: evidence that it was there at one point, but there’s no way to access it through the network. There’s no pathway, no links, not even a temp file that we could find.”
“And that means? I mean I know what it means, but I need to hear it from you.”
Tate sighed. “The drive that contains the file has been physically removed from the network. Someone went in there and pulled the connections and took the drive.”
Stroking an invisible beard, he studied them. “And thus we are boned. Because if we can’t get the footage, we can’t prove their innocence. And it has to match the time stamp.”
He picked up the phone and stared dialing.
“I’ll need Marcy, Tate, and RJ back here tonight at nine. Don’t ask me what I’m doing yet. I’ll let you know when I find out if this will work.”
The three of them had walked into the office and found Frank studying some paperwork. He looked up and didn’t seem to see them standing there. He went right back to the paperwork, and as Marcy was about to give him what for, someone hushed them from the shadow.
“He won’t see you. He refuses to, on purpose. Come back outside. We’ll talk there.”
The three of them, confused, backed out and turned to find a man who looked nearly identical to Frank Drexler, except he had black hair instead of Frank’s brown, and a few years less on his face.
He stuck his hand out. “Luthor Drexler, Frank’s brother.”
“What’s with the subterfuge here?” RJ asked, suspicious of the man.
“I’m here to help you get that hard drive.” He plunged his hand into his pocket after Marcy and Tate and finally had shaken the hand.
“Are you a magician?” RJ asked. “We already said that it had been removed, physically.”
“Yeah, well…my brother asked me to help you. He gave me the details of the case, said you’d be here, and then said nothing else. He needs to keep his nose clean. I’m already a liability to him.”
Marcy got it. “You’re a thief.”
“Former, and reformed. But my brother sometimes asks me to put my skills to work in a case where we know the parties are innocent and there’s no real way to prove it without…help.”
“So you’re here to help us break into Magruder’s place and see where the hard drive is?” RJ asked.
Luthor smirked. “Well, not exactly. We’re going to do a little…reconnaissance. Hands on.”
Which was how Marcy had wound up wearing all black, with a black knitted hat, sneaking around in ballet flats outside Oliver Magruder’s bushes at three in the morning.
Swearing she was not a thief.
“You look really hot in that outfit,” Tate whispered through the earpiece.
“Could you not?” RJ hissed.
“What? She’s hot. I mean, you’re engaged to her sister.”
“All the da Silva women are hot,” RJ agreed. “That’s not my problem. It’s you. And your newfound libido. You’re like, off-the-scale horny all the time.”
“I don’t see a problem with that,” Marcy interjected.
RJ grunted, and she had to hold back the laugh.
“You just aren’t use to my huge…manhood.” Tate’s voice was also desperately holding back a laugh.
“May I never be, either,” RJ grumbled.
“Okay, the banter is killing me,” Luthor interjected. “Quit it. Before I bust out laughing.”
She saw the master thief walking through the bushes near the back door with her night vision goggles. He approached the back door, and had his lock-pick kit in hand.
Listening, she could tell the dogs weren’t going to be a problem. They were snoring. Magruder’s dogs had been given a dose of Benadryl to make them sleepy and compliant—and it didn’t hurt them at all. Of course, who the hell ever had a guard dachshund?
Luthor’s gloved hand lay on the door knob and he was clearly ready for resistance in the knob, but the look on his face was one of shock.
He turned the knob and the door slipped open. Clearly rolling his eyes in annoyance, he walked into the house. “Can you believe this shit? People still don’t lock their doors. He’s got two guard wieners, but didn’t lock the door.”
“Guard wieners,” Tate mumbled. “This isn’t a reconnaissance mission, it’s a bad comedy skit.”
Luthor snorted. “With the back door open? You’re not far off, flyboy. Hey, Marcy, come on in. It looks like the dogs are fast asleep.”
Marcy balked “What about Magruder?”
“No sign. I don’t think he’s here.”
“Could we be a little more confident?” RJ asked.
Luthor blew out a breath. “Could you shut up and get me pictures of that feed bin?”
“You’re an ass.”
“Yes, and your fiancée is in trouble because she speaks parseltongue. So shut it and get my pictures. Marcy, come in. Magruder is supposed to be out of town for the day, so it’ll be fine. Tate?”
“All interior monitors have been suspended for the past fifteen smart-ass remarks,” Tate answered, and Marcy heard the smirk.
“My fiancée doesn’t speak parseltongue,” RJ grumped.
The silence came back a moment later as Marcy and Luthor tiptoed through the house. Even though he was pretty sure that Magruder wasn’t at home, he didn’t want to stomp through the house. Marcy got that. She didn’t even want to walk through the house.
“I’m a burglar. I’m breaking and entering. Why am I here?”
“Technically, we aren’t on a B and E. We’re trespassing. We’re not going to steal anything. We just need to locate and copy the hard drive.”
“You know, I’m still unclear on how a copy of this file is going to help,” RJ echoed through the phone. “I mean, if we’re caught here…”
“We’re here to get evidence to scare Smythe into dropping this. If he sees the pictures of the bin—which, I don’t hear the shutter, RJ—and we have a copy of the footage with exact date and time, then we can dissuade him from going any further with this.”
“It will also help me figure out who is in on all this.” Tate’s fingers were flying over the keyboard on the laptop. “There’s more than just altered footage going on here. Something did kill those cattle, and we need to figure out what exactly the angle is here.”
Luthor waved her over to him in the dark house, and pulled the door open. “If he’s only pulled it and it’s still here, it’s going to be in the basement.”
“Why there?”
“Cool and dry, and…” He pointed up to a silvery duct. “Air conditioning, all the way down. Who in Texas is going to air condition their basement if they don’t have something down there? This is clearly not a finished basement, so I’m assuming this is where he keeps the computer stuff for the ranch.”
“I’m not a thief.” Marcy mumbled the words under her breath again.
“You’re not. I am. So don’t touch anything. I brought you along in case, just in case, I needed another pair of hands.”
“Good,” she answered, and shoved her hands into her pockets. “I’m not touching jack shit.”
The two of them walked down the stairs to the unfinished basement. The unfinished, airconditioned basement, which just bolstered Luthor’s claim that there was something else down here. “The place lit up in the night vision goggles when he flicked on a small flashlight with a very small, focused beam.
“There.” Luthor’s finger pointed at a door under the stairs they had just come down. Heading over, he turned the knob and found the door locked.
“So he leaves the front door open, but locks this one?” Marcy could hear the suspicion in her own voice.
“Exactly. Here, take the light and let me get this open.”
Marcy watched as the master thief popped the lock on the door in less than twenty seconds, and pushed the door open.
Shining the light into the room, it was clear there was no room for her inside with Luthor. The tiny room was packed wall to wall with all kinds of computers and monitors and server banks.
She just stayed outside, making sure the room was illuminated. Luthor looked around, and made a few grunting sounds.
“He’s got a lot of shit shoved in this closet. No wonder he’s got the AC ducting coming right in.” He traced his finger around some wires, not quite touching them. “Everything on the right is connected. There’s some…Ah.”
He moved to the left and found a few bins that he pulled open to look inside.
“This is all junk. There’s nothing in here—oh ho.”
From the last drawer, Luthor lifted out a locked metal box that he quickly picked open.
He grinned over his shoulder, and pointed to the contents. “Bingo.”
“How do you know?”
“It’s dusty and used and not in an electronics bag.”
“So, how do we do this?”
Luthor lifted it out of the box. “Tate, you ready?”
“And waiting.”
Marcy stared at the computer bank around them. “What are we doing?”
“I’m plugging it back in,” Luthor answered. “The system should have no problem booting it up. Tate is waiting to download the contents in the car.”
“Nicely done.”
“Once this is transmitted and copied, we’ll get the hell out of here.” Luthor nodded as the hard drive started whirring. “Gimme an estimate?”
Tate cleared his throat and they could hear him tapping. “About thirty-five minutes. I’ll do what I can do boost that.”
“RJ, how are the dogs?” Luthor asked.
“Snoring like the fat, happy sausages they are.”
“So is this breaking and entering?”
“Trespassing at the worst. We aren’t physically removing anything. We’re just checking something.”
“Cough,” RJ said.
“We’ll be out of here in no time.” Luthor nodded at Marcy and the doorway. “If you want to head out, I’m good here.”
Marcy nodded and headed back out the car.
She really hoped that this meant that she wasn’t burglar. Or thief.
Chapter Fourteen
“Verhoven!!”
Tate cracked an eye open and looked around. The room was light, but not too light.
Marcy mumbled and rolled into him.
He smiled. Even though they’d gotten home close to four in the morning, Marcy had decided she wanted sex and didn’t care if they were found in the same bed.
He liked waking up wrapped around her.
“Verhoven!!”
Pausing a moment, he wondered if the yelling was the voice returning to reprimand him, or if there was actually someone yelling outside.
“Verhoven!!”
“Who’s yelling?” Marcy grumbled, and tried to settle back in.
It was a relief that she heard them. He’d had a few moments of late that were…shaky. “I don’t know, but they’re loud and right out front.”
“Verhoven!!”
With a sigh, she opened her eyes. “I guess we ought to see what’s going on.”
“I’m not the only Verhoven here,” he said. “But you’re right. I should go.”
“I’ll go with you.” Marcy stretched and Tate watched as the sheet slipped down to reveal her marvelous naked breasts. She cocked a sleepy eyebrow. “Come on, Tate. You can do more than just ogle the ladies after we find out who—”
“Verhoven!!”
“—is screaming.”
He nodded while tossing the sheets back. He didn’t get very far, as Marcy laid a hand on his arm.
“Tate, why were you tense a moment ago? Did you think that you were hallucinating the screaming?”
He only gave a terse nod.
“Okay, you’re not. They’re not back. There’s some jackass outside screaming at eight a.m. Don’t ever be afraid to ask me if I hear something too. We have to know when you’re doing well and when you’re not.”
“So you can know when I’m going insane?”
“Well, yes. So we can get you the help you need to get back to yourself.”
