“That’s it? That’s your plan?” Madison asked, incredulous. “How the hell am I supposed to run through the woods? In case you haven’t noticed, I’m in a cast.”

“I’ll be carrying you, miss,” Maltz said.

“Oh my God.” Madison turned to her mother. “Mom, don’t tell me you’re agreeing to this?”

Her mother continued staring at the floor.

“Any questions?” Maltz asked.

Bree stepped forward, voice strong as she said, “We’re ready.”

A minute later, something thumped against the far wall, glass shattering. Smoke drifted into the room. Her mother screamed. Maltz froze for a second, then nodded at Dangel, who jumped into the back of the van and climbed through to the front seat. A second later he revved the engine. As the van tore away from the house, Maltz slammed the front door.

“Everyone to the back,” he ordered.

Madison clomped through the kitchen to the back door. Her mother and sister were already huddled there, eyes wide with fear. The other two men stood on either side of them. Their jaws were tight, and they avoided her eyes. Maltz appeared a second later. They all waited. Another thump, near the bedrooms. A wisp of smoke curled into the room, dancing up toward the ceiling.

“We’re going to be burned alive,” her mother said, voice strangely calm.

“Not if I can help it, ma’am.” Maltz seemed to be waiting for something. One more smack against the wall by the kitchen, then the sound of motors retreating into the distance.

“They’re leaving,” Bree said.

Maltz motioned for them to step aside. He opened the rear door a crack and thrust his head out quickly, scanning from side to side. Seemingly satisfied, he slipped outside.

“What do we do?” Bree asked. One of the men frowned and motioned for her to be silent. A second later, the door swung wide and Maltz reappeared.

“It’s time. Go, go, go!” he said.

One of the commandos raced out. Bree and her mother followed on his heels, Audrey tripping on the threshold. The other commando caught her and helped her to her feet. Madison was suddenly airborne.

“Hey!”

Her crutches fell to the ground with a clatter. Maltz had thrown her over his shoulder. He dashed off into the woods. Madison gritted her teeth, bumping against his back as he ran. She lifted her head. Flames were licking at the farmhouse, a line of them along the base. They climbed steadily as if alive, racing up toward the roof. She heard more glass shattering, then they dipped into a gulch and the house vanished from view.

Twenty-Four

“They’re not talking,” Agent Taylor said, handing her a cup of coffee.

Kelly smiled at him. “I figured.”

“Getting a lot of that these days,” Rodriguez commented. They were sitting on the warehouse’s loading dock. Behind them, the building throbbed with activity. Agents from the San Antonio field office were interviewing the illegals. Jethro and Jim were waiting for transport to a federal detention facility. Despite repeated attempts at questioning, they continued to issue the same response.

“Yeah? I’ve never seen anything like it.” Taylor shook his head. “Who else?”

“Bunch of skinheads in Arizona.”

“ Arizona? That connected to the Morris killing?” Taylor ’s eyebrows knit together. He was in his early forties, dark hair gelled back and a suit that had seen better days.

“We think so, but we’re not sure,” Kelly said.

“What’s with the float?” Taylor jerked his head toward it.

“The Mexicans said they were supposed to ride in the parade next week, then slip off into the crowd.”

Taylor shook his head. “This pair has Minutemen written all over them. Can’t figure out why they’d be running illegals.”

“We can’t, either,” Kelly said. “Have you had any trouble with them before?”

Taylor shrugged. “ICE will be here soon, they’ll have more information. There have been scattered reports here and there, bodies found in the desert, rumors that some of these guys have gone vigilante. But nothing solid.”

“Nothing you’ve pursued, you mean,” Rodriguez said.

Taylor narrowed his eyes. “Like I said, that falls to the folks at ICE. But you know how it is down here. Locals are complaining that the fence isn’t enough to stop them. But it’s harder to make it across now, so more illegals try the desert. The number of them who die out there has skyrocketed. They found ten young girls this week, they’d been dead a few days so there wasn’t much left. And there’s less and less money to do anything about it. I got a pal works the border, he’s supposed to cover three hundred miles a night on his rounds. He stopped driving an ATV after nearly losing his head running into a trip wire the coyotes strung up. Then, if he catches anyone, he’s supposed to stop them himself. Half the time they scatter or throw rocks at him. Maybe he gets one or two.”

“And I thought we had a shit job,” Rodriguez said.

Taylor nodded. “No kidding, they should get combat pay. And God help them if they stumble across drug runners, some of those gangs carry UZIs. So folks around here turn a blind eye to people doing something about it. The Minutemen refer to themselves as true patriots, claim they’re keeping America safe for Americans.” He jerked his head in the direction of the office. “My guess is these boys fall in that category.”

“But their side business is running people across the border? That doesn’t make sense.” Kelly’s brows knit together.

Taylor shrugged. “Nope, you’re right. And what’s the connection to the Morris case?” She and Rodriguez didn’t answer. He eyed them, then said, “So what’s your next step, barring these guys talking?”

“There’s another place to check in Texas,” Kelly said. “Outside Houston.”

“You got enough for a warrant?”

“Maybe, based on this bust. We could claim linkage, say we suspect a similar criminal enterprise is taking place since they’re both owned by the same shell corporation.”

“I know a friendly judge in that district. You want me to make a call?” Taylor offered.

“That would be great,” Kelly said.

“Guessing you’ll need backup, too,” Taylor said, glancing at Rodriguez. “I gotta say, you look like hell.”

“Thanks,” Rodriguez said wryly.

“There are some good people in the Houston office, I’ll see about getting them to tag along.” Taylor glanced at his watch. “You catch the next flight, you could be there in a couple of hours. I’ll try to have everything ready by then.”

“Listen, we really appreciate the help,” Kelly said, scrambling to her feet. “You sure you don’t need us here?”

“Nah, it’s all over except for the paperwork. But next time you kick up a shitstorm like this, I’d appreciate a heads-up first.”

“Will do,” Kelly said, neglecting to add that hopefully there wouldn’t be a next time, at least not for her. “And if you wouldn’t mind waiting a few hours to process our friends, we’d appreciate that.”

“You want to make sure they don’t warn their buddies in Houston, huh?” Taylor grinned. “I think it’ll take some time to get them to a telephone.”

“Perfect,” Kelly said. Taylor shook her hand, then headed back inside.

“So I’m guessing this means we don’t get to sleep?” Rodriguez asked, stretching his arms above his head and yawning for dramatic effect. “Or have a decent meal?”

“Later. We need to jump on this before anyone gets wind of what happened here.” Kelly felt a rush of adrenaline. They were onto something, she could feel it. And whatever was in Houston might provide the final piece that explained everything.

“Yeah, yeah. Duty calls.”

“You don’t have to come, you know.” Kelly eyed him. In spite of his joking tone, he looked exhausted and there was a thread of pain in his voice. “I’ll have backup.”

“And miss out on seeing Houston? Never,” Rodriguez said. He lurched clumsily to his feet, wincing. His limp seemed worse as she followed him back inside.