High-Stakes Bounty Hunter

by Melinda Di Lorenzo

  The blonde let out a breathless laugh. “Oh, thank goodness. I was starting to think you were deliberately leading me on some wild chase!”

  “No, ma’am,” Trey replied, his voice dripping with false charm.

  “Bit of vehicle trouble,” Jake added. “Just trying to figure out what the problem is.”

  “Well, that makes a little more sense.” The woman laughed again. “But speaking of problems...you guys totally dropped this back there. I think it fell off your roof.”

  Elle watched as the woman held out the small, black object in her hands.

  “What is it?” the driver asked. “Some kind of purse?”

  “An expensive one,” the blonde agreed.

  “I afraid you’ve wasted your time,” Trey told her. “It’s not ours.”

  The woman released a third laugh. “Well of course it’s not yours, specifically. But I thought it might belong to the lady in your back seat?”

  “Not hers, either,” said Jake with a grunt.

  “Don’t you want to ask her?” the woman wondered aloud, sounding both perplexed and uncertain at the same time. “Because I’d really kick myself if I lost one like this. Not that I could afford it in the first place. But it’s designer, so...she might want it back, if it is hers?”

  As all three turned their attention to Elle, her body went so stiff that her aches and pains doubled. She willed the unknown woman to just accept that she’d made a mistake and drive off. Instead, she took a small step toward the car. And as she moved, Jake’s fingers came up to his belt, undoubtedly reaching for his weapon.

  Go away, Elle begged silently. Please, please.

  But she didn’t. In fact, Trey put a hand on her elbow and propelled her even closer, speaking as he did.

  “You know what?” he said. “You’re right. We probably should ask her.”

  Elle cringed as he took hold of the door handle and pulled it open. She waited for a shot to be fired. But Trey just smiled.

  “Pardon my daughter’s appearance,” he stated. “She and her dirt bike don’t get along all that well.”

  Elle clenched her teeth into a smile to stop herself from protesting against the familial label, and she forced what she hoped was a pleasant greeting. “Hi, there. Thanks for chasing us down, but it really isn’t my purse.”

  For the briefest second—so quick it almost seemed imaginary—deep concern flashed across the other woman’s face. Then it was gone, and she smiled and bent forward.

  “Wow!” she exclaimed. “You and that dirt bike really don’t get along, do you?”

  Elle swallowed, unable to add anything for fear of giving away the truth about her situation. But even if she had been able to form the words, she would’ve halted them in surprise a moment later anyway. Unexpectedly and with a swift and sure amount of stealth, the strange woman’s hand slipped into the car, pressed something into Elle’s hand, then dropped away again.

  “All right,” said the blonde. “Sorry to have gone all crazy on all of you. Guess I’ll just put up a lost and found ad in the Wavers Hollow library, or something.”

  “No worries,” Trey told her, all smoothness again. “Let me walk you back to the car.”

  Elle missed the specifics of the rest of whatever happened. She was vaguely aware that the woman pulled away unharmed, and she half heard Trey bark something at Jake. But everything else was lost. Because the object that Elle now clutched tightly to her thigh—out of sight—was a cell phone. And not only was the object a secret lifeline, it was also connected to a live call. One that flashed with the name Little Bro Noah across the screen.

  Chapter 21

  Noah pressed his phone to his ear, straining to hear Elle’s voice. He was desperate for it. But the only sound that carried through was the staticky rub of something on the receiver. It crackled unpleasantly, making him grit his teeth. He still didn’t pull the phone away. Instead, he tried to picture it—to picture where and how Elle held it. Had she shoved it into her pocket? Stuffed it down her shirt? Was she holding onto it for dear life, like Noah was holding his? His heart burned with the worry of it.

  His position in the back of Norah’s car—covered in a blanket, hidden against the floor where the seats had been removed—made him feel helpless. He didn’t like it one bit. Of course, he’d been poised to react if things went south with phase one of their plan. Hell. A part of him had hoped the situation would take a turn for the worse. He wanted to act. Except he knew better than to jeopardize his sister’s life, Elle’s life and his own, too. It was the exact reason why he and Norah had come up with their plan in the first place.

  Infiltrate the enemy. Take stock of their arsenal. Plant a tracking device. Create a viable retrieval.

  It had seemed much more aggressive before Noah had been forced to hide out like a coward. So when he felt his sister’s vehicle come to a rolling halt for the second time in five minutes, it took a great deal of self-restraint to keep from jumping out and demanding some answers. He forced himself to wait until Norah spoke, giving him the all clear. Then he tossed away the blanket, pushing himself to a sitting position, the questions rolling from his mouth.

  “How’d she seem? How does she look?”

  His sister’s expression said it all.

  He growled and violently swiped his too-long hair away from his face. “You couldn’t just fake it for me?”

  “Noah—”

  Without waiting for her to finish, he forced open the rear gate of the SUV, then jumped out. He saw that Norah had pulled them into a highway rest stop, but the only reason he cared was because it gave him room to pace. His foot throbbed with each step, but the pain was cathartic.

  What was I thinking? he demanded silently of himself. Why didn’t I go after her when I had the chance? Why do I feel like I keep making the same damn mistake at every turn, and why do I—

  His sister’s voice—soft and concerned—cut off his angry mental rant as she said his name again. “Noah.”

  He stopped walking and turned to face her. “Yeah. I know. I’m being ridiculous. And we have to stick to the plan. We have to get on that stupid tablet of yours and see if we can figure out where they’re headed. I know all that, too. I just...” He sighed and scrubbed at his stubble. “You were right. I care about Elle far more than is reasonable after knowing her for so short a time. I care about the kid, too, even though I’ve never met her.”

  “That doesn’t seem ridiculous to me at all, little bro.”

  “So, please. Indulge me for five seconds, and tell me what you saw. Don’t leave anything out.”

  His sister’s reply was laced with reluctance. “She had a scrape on her chin, and a big bruise on her cheek. There was a small split in her lip. Her legs were bare, and they were too dirty for me to see if they were banged up or not, but I suspect they were.”

  Sickness roiled in his gut. “How many?”

  “Just the two of them and Elle.”

  “So we could’ve just taken them out.”

  “No. There would’ve been too much risk to Elle.”

  “There are two of us and two of them,” Noah pointed out. “Pretty good odds.”

  His sister shook her head. “I’m not an experienced fighter. I’m a mediocre shot at best, and I win most of my battles with words. On top of which, you’re trying to ignore the fact that you got shot in the foot, but I saw the way you were limping just a second ago. And then you have to factor in the hostage element, Noah. It would’ve been far too risky.”

  His shoulders sagged, but the fury still broiled underneath. “I’m going to kill him. I swear to you, Norah.”

  “You’re not going to kill him, Noah. You’re going to save Elle and Katie, and you’re going to make sure Trey Charger is behind bars for good.” She put her hand on his elbow. “You’re a good man, little bro. So you’re going to do this the right way.”
/>
  He sighed. “Do you always have to be right?”

  She smiled. “As a matter of fact...”

  “All right. Fine. No killing. Just three hundred years behind bars.” He gestured to the SUV. “Show me the damn tablet and its magic.”

  “C’mon, then.”

  His sister led him back to the vehicle, this time letting him into the front seat rather than burying him in the back. Once they were both inside, she pulled the tablet from her oversized purse, tapped the screen a few times and pulled up a map. Immediately, a moving, flashing red dot appeared on top.

  “Obviously, that’s them,” she said, then pointed a little lower down on the map. “And we’re here.” She moved her finger again, this time to press and hold down one corner of the screen until a small menu popped up. “These are the available options,” she explained. “If you tap the distance button, it will bring up a green dot to show our position—the tablet’s position, really—and an onscreen display of the kilometers between us.” She demonstrated the tool, showing that they were now about five clicks from Elle, then moved on. “This other one here is the one we want, I think. What it does is provide a list of popular nearby locations. Like this.” She tapped once more, and a series of dotted lines appeared between Trey’s red marker and several highlighted spots on the map. “All you have to do is tap one of them, and it will tell you what it is. Try it.”

  Noah selected one at random, tapping the spot with his index finger, and a robotic voice came to life. “Wavers Hollow Community Center. Get directions?”

  His sister swiped her thumb over the screen, and the prompt to accept disappeared. “All we have to do is watch their red dot for a few more minutes, and we should be able to figure out where they’re headed.”

  “Unless they’re making a run for China, or something,” Noah muttered.

  Norah rolled her eyes. “You’re the one who pointed out that they must’ve come to Wavers Hollow for a reason.”

  He let out another frustrated sigh. “Yeah. I just wish I knew what it was. And I wish I didn’t feel like it was something—”

  “Hang on,” his sister interrupted.

  “What?”

  “Look at the dot.”

  He turned his attention back to the screen. The blinking locator had abruptly switched direction, and it was no longer headed directly into town. For a second, Noah thought his sarcastic comment might actually have been true—maybe they were leaving Wavers Hollow. Then his sister spoke up, her tone puzzled.

  “It looks like they’re moving toward the private docks off Wavers Lake,” she said. “But why would they go down there? The lake doesn’t go anywhere. I mean...if they head out into the water, they’ll just be giving life to the expression ‘sitting ducks.’”

  As soon she’d finished speaking, though, an image flashed into Noah’s mind. It was something he’d seen as the doctor drove into Wavers Hollow. Something he’d barely noticed because it hadn’t seemed at all relevant when he’d spied it. It was a sign. One that announced that Wavers Hollow and Wavers Lake were the proud provider of a unique wedding venue—a small island in the middle of the lake, complete with utilities, a chapel, amenities...everything required to make an already special day incredible. And with the recall of the sign came something else. A part of Elle’s explanation of what kind of man Trey was. The kind who forced a girl to get married against her will.

  The anger and frustration that pricked at Noah became a cold stab.

  It was the perfect explanation for her sudden flight from Trey Charger those eight years earlier. The pull of the lynchpin.

  He had no idea whom Trey wanted her to marry, or how he planned to make her do it. But whatever it was, it could be nothing less than sinister.

  “Noah!”

  He jerked his attention to his sister. Her voice was urgent, and he had a feeling she’d said his name several times with no response. He didn’t have time to ask or to apologize.

  “We need to get down to those docks,” he said grimly. “Now.”

  And thankfully, Norah didn’t argue or even ask for an explanation. She just turned the key in the ignition and started to drive.

  * * *

  The nearer they got to the lake, the antsier Elle became. The increasing flickers of deep blue were too still. Too boundless. They didn’t match the quick jump of her heart, and they didn’t line up with her growing belief that she was nearing an ending of some sort. Whether it was literally her life, or just the life she knew, she wasn’t sure. But either way, no serenity was coming her way. And it grew worse when they took the final turn and headed down toward the dock. Not because Elle knew the spot well enough to know it meant they were headed for Trey’s private boat launch. And not even because the thought of being alone with the men, somewhere in the middle of the lake scared her. But because Trey dropped the first smug hint at what he had planned.

  “What’s your dress size, Elle?” he asked. “About a four?” His eyes met hers in the rearview mirror, and she didn’t quite look away quickly enough before he spoke again, a smile exposing far too many teeth to look natural. “I guess it doesn’t really matter. You won’t have the dress on for long anyway.”

  Elle’s heart didn’t just drop. It slithered down the inside of her body, then sank through the floorboards. Her mind whipped unwillingly back to the day Trey had told her his plans. He’d started it by saying her time living off him was done. And even though the implication was that she was a freeloading sponge rather than his DNA-provable offspring—who would really rather have had anyone else as her father—Elle had still been a little excited. A little hopeful. Of course, it hadn’t been that easy. Trey’d had no intention of letting her go anywhere. She owed him a debt. Years of food. Lodging. Clothes. All the things that a normal parent would give freely. But Elle had learned early on that Trey wasn’t normal. So at the announcement that she would be paying her debt by marrying a man more than twice her age, she hadn’t been surprised. Just scared. And certain that she wouldn’t be able to escape that inevitable fate.

  But things are different now, she reminded herself. I did escape. And I’ve spent eight years not being powerless.

  Elle lifted her eyes to the rearview again, and she channeled some inner strength. “I won’t do it.”

  “Won’t you?” Trey’s reply was infused with casual—almost indifferent—disbelief.

  And a moment later, they rounded the final corner before they hit their destination, and Elle spied the reason for his tone. Just ahead, on the dock, stood a small group of people.

  The gathering included two more of Trey’s thugs, each of whom had his hand on his weapon.

  It included a nervous-looking man whose eyes kept darting around like he was wishing he were anywhere else.

  It included Detective Stanley, looking decidedly ill in spite of his fresh suit and bow tie.

  And it included Katie, hair askew, face ashen and clad in a frilly pink dress about a size too big.

  No!

  “You have a choice here,” Trey said, his voice low and dangerous. “You. Or her.”

  This time, Elle gasped the word aloud. “No!”

  “I’m afraid it’s all you’ve left me with,” Trey told her. “I owe Jimmy. I’ve owed him for over twenty-six years. I promised him I’d make it up to him for taking Tawney from him. And what could be closer to the real thing than her daughter? But the truth is, I’m tired of feeling like I’m indebted. And I think Jimmy’s a little cracked now, too. So he’ll take the substitute, I think. Then we can finally close this chapter of our lives.”

  The car slowed, then came to an ominous-feeling stop.

  “There are two white dresses in my trunk,” Trey stated. “One is a ladies’ size four. The other will fit Kaitlyn perfectly. It’s up to you which one we use. Decide, Elle. Quickly.”

  But it wasn’t really a decision at all,
of course.

  Chapter 22

  Noah was about four seconds shy of sliding his injured foot across the floorboards of the SUV and slamming his borrowed boot into the gas pedal. He knew his sister was traveling as fast as she dared. As fast as wouldn’t get them both killed. But—in spite of the fact that the lake flashed in and out of sight now—it still wasn’t fast enough.

  Go, go, go! he urged silently.

  Instead, Norah braked. In response, a furious yell of protest and frustration nearly escaped Noah’s throat. Then he clued in. They’d reached their destination. A short distance ahead, a luxury boat—a forty-footer, it looked like—was pulling away from a custom-built dock. Sitting in sight at the stern was a blond head, sticking out of a puffy white dress.

  Elle.

  “I have to get to her,” Noah said under his breath, scanning the area for a means of doing it that didn’t involve leaping into the water and swimming out.

  Reading his mind as usual, his sister pointed to a small outbuilding that sat a few dozen feet away. “There,” she said. “I’d bet your wrecked foot they keep some nonmotorized watercraft in there.”

  “I love it when you bet away my damaged appendages,” Noah replied as he opened the door and hopped out, leaving Norah to scramble to catch up.

  Truth be told, his foot really was starting to throb harder. He wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to pretend it wasn’t happening. Right then, though, he had no choice but to use the pain to motivate himself to move faster. He hurriedly limped to the building, paused at the door and glared down at the padlock that held it shut. He gave it a hard tug, but of course it didn’t budge. His patience was at an all-time low. Not bothering to waste any time, he yanked his weapon from his side and started to take aim. His sister stopped him, though, before he could actually fire.