Page 10 of Dark ’N’ Deadly

“There are three counties in Alabama where sovereign citizens are concentrated. Dale, Houston, and Coffee Counties. Are you a sovereign citizen?” This time, he didn’t bother watching Jesse. His focus was solely on Tess.

No twisting.

“No,” Jesse said quickly.

Too quickly. They’re communicating.

They were good at this. Most people would never have picked up on it, but he was a trained observer. The kid was either lying outright or, at a minimum, withholding information. One way or the other, he damn well intended to find out what it was and how much Tess was involved.

“What’s a sovereign citizen?” Jesse asked, although the tone of his voice was odd, too high-pitched, as if he already knew and was playing dumb for his and Dayne’s benefit.

Fine. Two can play that game.

“A sovereign citizen is a lawless individual, someone who doesn’t recognize federal, state, or local laws.” He paused to watch the kid. Jesse might only be eighteen, but he lived smack dab in the middle of those murdering motherfuckers and didn’t know what they were? Bull. “Most sovereign groups aren’t violent, but some are and have a cult-like following. They’re involved in all kinds of crimes. Money laundering, fraud, tax violations, illegal firearms sales and purchases, and sometimes…murder.” And their numbers were growing, like an insidious virus spreading throughout the nation.

Tess and Jesse exchanged a look that he couldn’t decipher.

“The FBI considers them to be a major domestic terrorism threat.” Dayne pushed from the door to stand directly over Tess’s shoulder. “In 1995, the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building in Oklahoma City was blown up by a sovereign citizen. One hundred and sixty-eight people died in the explosion, including nineteen children who were in the building’s day care center. Six hundred and eighty others were injured.”

“They’re also the single greatest threat to law enforcement,” Eric threw in, focusing on Jesse to gauge the kid’s reaction. “Nearly two dozen police and federal agents have been murdered by sovereign citizen extremists in the past decade alone.” Including Eric’s friends.

Almost on cue, every scar on his chest, legs, and back ached as if he’d sustained those injuries only weeks earlier, instead of three years ago.

“So, you tell me, Tess.” He faced her and leaned in. Big mistake. What he got for his effort was a potent whiff of roses, oranges, and spice. Like freaking potpourri. “What the hell’s going on here?”

Flinching, she sat back. The hand in her hair fell to her lap where she clenched it around the fabric of her skirt. “What do you mean?” Her eyes locked with his, and he hoped to heck she wasn’t fucking with him.

“Don’t play me. You know damn well what I mean.” Clenching his jaws, he managed to keep the impatience from his voice. “You’re sending signals to him about how to answer my questions.” He reached up to twist a lock of her hair loosely around his finger.

Before he could yank his hand back, she knocked it away, her eyes flashing. “I was not doing that.”

He searched her face for signs of deception, but there weren’t any. Had he been wrong about them communicating? He hoped so.

Taking another Tess-scented breath, he sat back and softened his tone. “Your brother is facing felony possession of a firearm, and if what I suspect is in those drums is actually in there, he’ll be looking at more than a few months in a cell.” He caught the fear in Jesse’s eyes. “You could be looking at hard time, kid.”

“Why? What do you think is in those drums?” Tess asked, the slight quiver in her voice giving him an indication that she was only now understanding the seriousness of Jesse’s situation.

“Ammonium nitrate.” The lab wouldn’t confirm it until Monday, but that had been their preliminary guess.

The smooth skin between her brows furrowed. “What’s that used for?”

“Fertilizer. Or”—he hardened his jaw—“a bomb.”

Her eyes filled with undisguised shock, sending a wave of relief washing over him. She hadn’t known what was in those drums. Her physical response had been too genuine.

When she swallowed, his gaze was riveted to the graceful curves of her slender neck.

“To put this in perspective,” he said, “the Oklahoma City Federal Building was destroyed by an ammonium nitrate fertilizer bomb. It’s the weapon of choice for militants all over the world because none of the components are illegal to purchase, and they’re easily obtained.”

Loud crinkling came from where Jesse clenched the bag of chips in his hand. The boy had the same shocked look in his wide green eyes as his sister had. The kid hadn’t known, either.

“Do you know what’s in those drums?” Dayne asked. There was no mistaking the unforgiving intent in his eyes.

“No, sir,” Jesse answered without looking at Tess. “I’ll tell you everything I can, which ain’t much. But I want a deal.”

“There will be no deals until you tell us everything.” Eric crossed his arms. While he wasn’t ready to divulge it, he and Dayne had already pitched an idea to the prosecutor on this case, Assistant U.S. Attorney Julie Chang. First, there was the one burning question on his mind.

“Do you know Harley Gant?” he asked.