When Roses Collide

Chapter Forty-Six

"I found him down wallowing around in old man Sanders's hot springs."

Ethan plucked out Harley's lavender bra hanging out of Travis's back pocket and held it up like a trophy bass. "What the fuck were you doing down there?" he asked, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"More like who was he fucking," Butch muttered under his breath, drawing Ethan's attention and making Travis curse under his breath.

"You stupid son of a bitch!" Ethan whipped back around and stuck his face inches from Travis's own. "You took some hussy to the hot springs when you have a woman like Harley sitting at home?" He shoved Travis in the chest and sent him stumbling back into the Willy. "I should beat the ever loving shit out of you, you stupid jackass."

Butch grabbed Ethan by the shoulders and hauled him back, laughing his ass off. "He was with Miss Harley."

Ethan paused, looked at Butch and then back at Travis. "You were at the hot springs with Harley?"

"Yes," Travis snapped, pushing himself off the Jeep and snatching the bra still dangling out of Ethan's hand. "If we are done discussing my sex life, can we get on with what you fucking interrupted us for?"

"You walked in on them?" Ethan popped wide surprised eyes to Butch before his face crumbled into laughter. "Holy shit! No wonder he's all riled up," he snorted, gasping for breath. "You have my permission to knock Meyer on his ass," he sputtered to Travis, doubling over and braying like a mule.

"Nice, Sheriff." Butch yanked off his cap and scrubbed a hand over his buzz cut. "Way to uphold the whole keeping the peace thing," he drawled, slapping his hat back on his head.

Ethan finally managed to put a cork in his chortles and shrugged a shoulder. "I'm off duty," he replied still chuckling.

"Can we just get on with what you wanted to tell me?" Travis grumbled, jamming Harley's bra back into his pocket. As much as he like the thought of punching the sniper again, he liked the idea of being able to have full function of his hand more. The damn thing was still throbbing with each beat of his heart as it was.

Butch gave a brief nod of his head and brushed passed Ethan who was still sniggering despite Travis having threatened to shove his tazer down his throat. Jerking the door to the Willy open with a teeth clenching squeal, he pulled out what appeared to be a small, hard-sided briefcase and slammed it shut again. Carrying the case over to Ethan's cruiser, he swiped his thumb over the security pad and the latches popped open.

Ethan whistled low. "Damn, that's some serious hardware there," he said, easing out a hand to touch the revealed laptop sitting snuggly inside.

"Keep your hands off or lose a finger, your choice," Butch growled as he fired it up.

Travis watched as the man typed faster than any teenage girl he ever saw. "That's some pretty fancy equipment for a civilian," he commented.

"Who said I was a civilian?" Butch muttered, turning the computer screen to give them a better look. "I saw two clowns tromping through the woods in full suits and ties a couple of days ago. I doubted they were there squirrel hunting, so I took the liberty of snapping a few pictures with my scoop and followed them. They're hiding out at Rafferty's hunting cabin up on the south side of Red Lodge Mountain. When I downloaded the images into a facial recognition program, these two upstanding citizens showed up."

"Franky 'The Switchblade' Salvatore and Vincent Castello," Travis read the names under the two mug shots. "Who the hell are these fuckers and what are they doing in Wolf Springs?" he asked as his eyes continued to skim down the long list of criminal activity they had been charged with.