Burn on the Western Slope (Crimson Romance)

by Smith, Angela

  She coughed loudly to cover a ring, just in case. She prayed Caleb wouldn’t be the one to answer and hoped it didn’t go to voicemail. Either way, she’d never know.

  “Why are you doing this, Tanner?” she screamed. If Naomi had answered, she prayed her cousin would recognize her voice and stay on long enough to hear, then think to call for help.

  Was Garret help? Or was he in on this? No, he wouldn’t be in on this. If he was, he would have come for Reagan. Reagan had trusted him, she would have gone with him. Well, until she discovered his deception.

  Tanner didn’t reply, so she screamed his name again. She prayed the phone had made the call but couldn’t risk looking at it to find out. For all she knew, she’d never picked up a signal in this harsh, rugged environment. And she’d never know.

  Her and her dad’s survival was up to her.

  They entered a forest of trees. Instead of climbing uphill, they were clambering down, where the mountains cloaked them on all sides. The sun ruptured the sky, slopping fumes of gray and purple against the backdrop of the mountains. The wind retaliated with violent gusts.

  “Why are you doing this?’ she asked again.

  With one hand, Tanner grabbed her by the forearms, the other still pointing a gun into her father’s back. She released the phone in her purse.

  “I want those fucking jewels,” he said, growling.

  “What jewels?”

  “The ones that are worth your life.”

  “I don’t have them. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Your brother stole them from a very important family.”

  “How?”

  “His job was to fence those jewels. He never gave them up.”

  “He died. How could he?” Reagan shivered — not easy considering she was well past frozen and her body barely cooperated.

  Tanner dropped her forearms and continued to walk. She tried to peer into her purse, but couldn’t see anything. Was the phone lit?

  The more they trekked downward, the thicker the snow grew. More like concrete than soft powder. Her dad stumbled, grimaced, righted himself, and hobbled, his knee and ankle probably sprained. The pallor on his face worried Reagan.

  Her phone vibrated in her purse. She pushed buttons, hoping she’d managed to answer but unable to tell for sure. The buzzing had stopped, so there was a chance.

  “So you’re telling me that Ray is a jewel thief — ”

  “Fence. Chris was the thief, Ray was the smart one out of the bunch, but not so smart after all, huh?”

  “So you killed him?”

  “No, I didn’t kill him. Didn’t have to.”

  “Who killed him?” Reagan asked.

  Tanner shrugged. “I dunno. Chris probably.”

  “Well, Chris probably has the jewels then, not me.”

  “No, we’ve looked. Ray left you the money. He must have left you the jewels.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Well, Chris steals the jewels and then Ray fences what the Mass family doesn’t want to keep. They get their portion and the rest of the money goes to the Mass family. Only this time, Chris handed the jewels over to Ray and Ray didn’t fence them. It only gets complicated from there.”

  “The Mass family?” Fear tumbled through her. There was no way Tanner planned on letting them out of this alive. Garret had told her about the Mass family. Kyle was suspected of working with them. But this was about Ray, not Kyle.

  “Where are we going, Tanner?” She stressed the name, so whoever was on the phone might know who she was with.

  “To Ray’s cabin. You’re going to help me find those jewels.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “You have to go see her. Talk to her. Make sure she’s okay.”

  Chayton watched Garret pace across the length of the living room. “What? You can’t do it?” He flicked his wrist and cast Aikido’s pole, tossing the fuzz that drove the cat crazy. Hunkered in the middle of the floor, Aikido glanced back and forth from the fuzz to Garret’s shoes.

  “No, she’s pissed at me.”

  Garret saw the hopeful gleam in Chayton’s eye as he tossed the fuzz higher, aiming it directly on Garret’s boot and enticing the cat to attack Garret. He stopped moving the pole, the fuzz no longer an attractant. “She found out.” It wasn’t a question but a statement of fact. “Which wouldn’t be a problem if you’d told her in the first place.”

  “You have no idea what you’re saying,” Garret said. “If I’d told her and she was involved with Kyle, what is the first thing you think would have happened?” He stopped pacing and faced Chayton. Aikido eyed his prey, shaking his rear. Definite attack mode. Garret paced again. “She’d call the bastard and tell him the FBI is investigating him. I didn’t know her well enough to know what she’d do.”

  Aikido elected that moment to lunge at Garret’s leg and attached himself firmly onto his pants. Garret yelled, Chayton laughed, and Aikido disentangled himself and ran.

  “Just go check on her,” Garret demanded. “I knocked on her door, she didn’t answer. I’m afraid she won’t answer as long as I’m on the other side.”

  “Okay, okay, I’ll go check on her.” Chayton rose, winked, and added, “With pleasure.”

  Growling, Garret followed Chayton to the door, standing half in and half out of the condo while Chayton proceeded next door.

  Chayton knocked. And knocked. “Reagan? It’s Chayton. Come on, open up.” Shrugging, he glanced at Garret, who stood in the hallway with his back braced on the wall, as if that would steady his nerves. “She’s not home.”

  Garret pushed Chayton aside. She was ignoring them, obviously. And there wasn’t much Garret could do about it but let her sulk. Maybe after a few days she would come around.

  Garret didn’t think so. She was the kind of woman he’d have to fight for, and fight for her he would.

  Chayton’s phone rang, and they both jumped. He unclipped his phone, glanced at it, scowled, and answered. “Chayton here.”

  Garret watched as a storm of emotions played across his brother’s face. His chest tightened. He admitted he didn’t know everything there was to know about Chayton’s life, but at this moment, it seemed everything revolved around Reagan and his feelings for her. So if this had anything to do with her …

  “Naomi,” Chayton whispered, probably catching Garret’s scowl.

  Garret’s heart dropped down a two-hundred foot ravine and his legs felt like they were dangling, struggling not to follow the plunge. He strained to hear the words, but Chayton’s face paled and he handed the phone to Garret.

  • • •

  “Dammit, Chay. Get that fucking helicopter ready!”

  Garret tore through the condo, throwing gear and food into his drybag in preparation for Reagan’s rescue. Taking deep breaths, he tried not to panic. He tried to think of this only as a rescue mission of a friend, not a woman with whom he had fallen in love.

  Wait, in love? What was he thinking? And why was he thinking it right now, when Reagan’s life could be at stake? Thinking of love slowed men down, caused them to lose their wits, and he couldn’t afford to lose anything right now, especially his head.

  “I’m trying.” Chayton studied his phone. “But I don’t own a helicopter.”

  It pissed Garret off that Chayton was certified to fly one but didn’t own one — not many people would loan a hundred thousand plus dollar machine to just anyone. He didn’t have time to gather a search and rescue team. Buchanan would take too long to send help. Chief Castro promised to send out a few officers when the weather improved. Garret didn’t intend to wait that long.

  Fuck the weather and fuck the police chief.

  They were going up against a trained FBI agent. If he hadn’t heard part of Tanner’s conversation when he’d called Reagan’s phone, he would have thought Tanner had taken her to question her. He’d immediately called Buchanan, who admitted Tanner hadn’t checked in and had no authority to do anything other than back u
p Garret’s investigation. They both came to the same conclusion: Tanner was working on his own or possibly with Javier Mass.

  Garret checked his guns for ammunition, loaded extra clips in his cargo pockets, and clothed himself tight. Layers. It was all about layers. In this kind of weather, one could never have enough layers or food or gear or ammunition or water or …

  “Shit,” Garret said as he stopped at the door and turned to Chayton. It was risky going out in this weather, even riskier to fly a heli where they were going, but he was afraid they’d never make it in time if they didn’t. They couldn’t hike and they couldn’t go on snowmobiles. It’d take longer than he wanted, and he didn’t know what kind of condition Reagan would be in when he found her. Flying was their only option. He’d wasted half an hour considering all his other options and another half hour trying to organize a team that wouldn’t cooperate.

  “Yeah,” Chayton said into the phone, nodding, glancing at Garret, and nodding again. “Gotcha. Be there in ten.” Chayton flipped his phone closed, heaved his own bag over his shoulder, and said, “I got one. Let’s go.”

  • • •

  The snow alternated between flurries and downpours. The sky alternated between luminous and leaden. Clouds opened to reveal a sun so bright it bounced off the snow and stung Reagan’s eyes, but then those clouds transformed into a flat silvery pillow as the wind shook out the feathers.

  Reagan longed to lay her head on such a pillow. Instead, it suffocated her. Suffocated the light that guided her. She blinked. Weary. She felt her whole body would splinter at any moment. But she kept going. She had no choice.

  They came upon a cabin tucked into the mountains but it seemed to take another hour to arrive. It could have been more, it could have been less, but each step urged her further from her destination instead of closer.

  Her dad stumbled, breathing heavily, and Reagan was afraid he wouldn’t make it to the safe haven of the cabin. Safe, at least, from the elements.

  Finally they arrived, and Tanner led them inside. Only a small relief from the conditions outside.

  “Let’s get down to business,” Tanner said.

  Reagan glared. “Can we please get warm first? I can’t feel my fingers.”

  Tanner glanced at her dad. “Start a fire, but don’t do anything stupid.”

  The howling wind shook the cabin. Reagan had little hope for survival. No one knew where she was, and if the snowstorm worsened, no one could save them even if they did know where to find her.

  She wasn’t going to sit here and die. She would fight to the end.

  “Where’s the wood?” her dad asked.

  “Right outside.”

  Great. Her dad, who hobbled on his leg and still didn’t know how badly his arm was hurt, had to shuffle outside and find the wood. The wood that Tanner had known where to find. Had he been here before? Were he and Ray friends at one time?

  “I’ll get it,” Reagan said, shooting a desperate look toward her dad.

  “I’ll manage.”

  “Make some coffee,” Tanner demanded.

  Coffee? If coffee was available, weapons may be available. Coffee making was a good excuse to search, and she rifled through the cabinets. Styrofoam cups, plastic silverware. The coffee pot was made of stainless steel, not glass. She could possibly hurt Tanner with it, if she had the strength, but the warmth of the coffee was the only thing to fuel her, and at the moment it was better than the thought of taking Tanner down.

  She could always throw coffee in his face.

  Her dad used his strong arm to stack a few pieces of wood in the fireplace as the coffee brewed. Tanner had already removed the fireplace pokers as if he knew Frank might use them. Frank unrolled his body from his crouching position on the floor and Reagan didn’t miss the pain written all over his face.

  “Where’s a match?” he asked Tanner.

  “I’ll do it.”

  Frank crouched, confiscated a piece of wood, and swung it at Tanner as he approached. Tanner sidestepped, the wood barely striking his shoulder. He knocked it out of Frank’s hand, and it crumbled to the floor. Tanner pushed Frank to the wall and struck his gun on her father’s cheek.

  “Don’t try anything stupid again,” Tanner said. “I’m stronger than you. I’m smarter than you. I’m FBI and I’m trained to survive.”

  • • •

  Garret pulled the door of the helicopter closed, fighting against the wind to secure it. As the minutes passed, the weather worsened and he feared before long the roads would be treacherous, never mind the sky. He tried to blame it on the blades which churned the snow, but he’d heard the weather warnings.

  Chayton glanced at him before taking off, but Garret couldn’t see the expression on his face through the gear they both wore. Chayton wouldn’t have stayed behind even if Garret had asked him to, and Garret hoped they’d be at their destination within minutes. Then they’d have the safety of the cabin when the worst of the storm hit.

  “Shit,” Chayton said as the helicopter sputtered and coughed. Garret didn’t know a damn thing about the machines, only that he wanted to load it up with as much gear and as many people as possible to help, but Chayton warned him of the danger of overloading. They still had to bring Reagan home safely and their packs of food, water, and extra clothing weighed more than she did.

  “What’s happening?” Garret asked.

  “Nothing,” Chayton said, but his voice didn’t reassure him. Garret no longer cared about himself as long as he made it to Reagan in time. But he worried about his brother, sorry Chayton had to be involved yet aware Chayton would have it no other way.

  Dark skies reigned ahead. He knew they were heading toward a snowstorm, but he planned to beat it.

  “Dammit, we won’t make it,” Garret said. He punched in Reagan’s phone number again, but nothing happened.

  He’d tried calling several times, all to no avail. What he knew thus far was that Tanner had taken Reagan and they were headed to Ray’s cabin. Panicky, Naomi had mentioned something about jewels, about Ray, but he couldn’t be sure of anything until he reached his destination, and the only thing he cared about right now was Reagan.

  He would kill Tanner with his bare hands, but that was only after he knew Reagan was safe. If she wasn’t, Tanner would die by more extreme measures.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  There had to be a knife here somewhere. Tanner hadn’t yet tied her up, only her father. As if she was too weak and stupid to do anything to hurt him. She’d use a plate and knock it over his head if she had to.

  Oh wait, there were no plates. Nothing of any substance to use as a weapon. She didn’t understand how a cabin like this had no knives, but it was hard to explore when Tanner kept a close eye on her.

  They ingested a cup of lukewarm coffee. Her bones ached, and she no longer hoped to throw coffee in his face. It was barely warm and it’d only piss him off. She’d lose her chance to attempt anything that might be worthwhile.

  She helped her dad drink, bundled him up in blankets, and prayed he’d be okay. Tanner didn’t seem to care. He probably planned on killing both of them when he did what he came here to do.

  “Ray had a safe here,” Tanner said. “I want to see what’s in it. I believe you have the key.”

  An image of Dr. Till propped on her pillows rose in her mind, but she was proud of herself for not reacting. The key was in her purse. It had to be the same key. “How do you expect me to have the key? I don’t know anything about Ray.”

  “Chris was working for your brother, but he double crossed him. I think Ray was onto him and hid the jewels somewhere. Chris killed him. See, I think Ray had every intention of giving the jewels to Javier. He was a good guy, but Chris killed him first.”

  “How do you know Chris didn’t hide them somewhere?”

  “We’ve searched everywhere.”

  “We?”

  “Do you think I work alone?”

  “But you said Chris gave Ray the jewels. That he was
the thief. So why give Ray the jewels only to try to take them back?”

  “So he wouldn’t look guilty.”

  Reagan shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

  “You don’t have to understand.”

  Her breath lodged in her throat as the reality of her situation suffocated her. The FBI was supposed to be the good guys. They wouldn’t hit, tie up, or threaten innocent people, would they? If Tanner really was an FBI agent, he was not in it for the good. She doubted Garret was involved, doubted he even knew about Ray’s involvement, but she wasn’t sure. He’d known Ray for so long. Longer than Tanner by the sound of it.

  If Garret was involved, he wouldn’t have told her about Kyle. He would have taken her to this cabin with the pretense of loving her. And she would have willingly complied.

  “I found a piece of jewelry in my condo. I’ll give it to you.”

  Tanner gave her a look that made her heart flop in dread.

  He knew she was lying. He’d probably been the one to take the necklace.

  “Where’s the safe?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. I never knew this place existed until now. But I know where the safe is at my condo,” she lied, hoping if he took her home she’d have a better chance of survival.

  Her toes ached, the heel of her feet mashed into boots that had grown too heavy for her. She wasn’t sure she could make it back to the condo. The possibility of survival dimmed.

  “Bullshit. I’ve been through every nook and cranny of that condo.”

  Tanner shoved pictures from the wall, throwing them on the floor with abandon and letting them shatter. Reagan cried out at the atrocity, trying to save what she could of Ray’s memories. Saving these memories seemed important and gave her something to focus on besides the last few minutes of her life.

  She didn’t want to dwell on that.

  She recognized Garret and Chayton, smiling widely as they crouched beside a large black bear. Montana in the summer, Ray fishing. The pictures had been enlarged and framed and fixed with strategic care upon the walls.