He bounced on the balls of his feet. Oh yeah. It was on.
The man smiled just as Dax felt movement behind him. He had a moment to curse his stupidity. Never turn your back on an enemy, even if fallen. He spun, expecting a blow to land at any moment. The first man’s arm was raised, like the frickin’ Statue of Liberty, tire iron in hand, starting to descend. Dax didn’t have time to block it.
A blur of black fur, white teeth, and a dainty pink ribbon hurtled past Dax, plowing into the man.
“What the …?”
The poodle didn’t play around. She went directly for the kill. Maddie’s muzzle disappeared between the man’s legs, and the most unearthly scream erupted from the poor sucker’s mouth.
Dax winced.
“That’s my girl.” Gabe stepped up beside Dax, a smirk dancing on his lips.
Brad and his dog, Vi, stopped on his other side. The boxer mix sat next to Brad’s feet and looked up at him, a do-I-really-have-to-get-involved expression on her furry face. Brad patted her head. “Always getting into trouble, aren’t you?” he asked Dax.
Dax ignored that. “What are you two doing here?”
“Help me, please….” The man the poodle had pinned stretched out a hand, beseeching, before curling into a fetal position. Maddie gracefully pounced on his body and grabbed a hank of his hair between her teeth. The bow on her head bounced this way and that but stuck firm. Marla must have superglued the ribbon onto her dog.
Brad pursed his lips and turned to face Dax. “Lissa told Marla you were going to wait for these bozos to show, and Marla told Gabe.” He narrowed his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell us? You think we’d let you face this on your own?”
The man sparring with William managed to pull his arm free, struggled to one foot, then face-planted as William jumped on his back.
The one man remaining standing reached into his jacket pocket.
“Hold that thought,” Dax said. Stepping forward, he drew his shoulder back.
Gabe leaped past him and planted his fist in the guy’s face. A burst of red shot from the man’s nose and his eyes rolled back into his head. He stepped sideways once, twice, on legs as shaky as a newborn giraffe’s, before collapsing in a heap.
Shaking out his hand, Gabe turned with a look of pure joy lighting up his eyes. “I got one. Can’t let the dogs do all the work.”
“What the hell?” Dax raised his hands, palms up. “This was my fight. You couldn’t even leave me one?”
Gabe pointed at the idiot under William. “I think that guy is getting to his feet …”
The Bluetick jumped up and down on the guy’s back, like a cat pouncing on a ball of yarn. The man let out a wheezing gasp, flopped back to the ground, and stopped moving.
“Oh,” Gabe said, shrugging. “Never mind.”
William scooted up the man’s body and awkwardly sat on his head. He grinned back at Dax, panting heavily.
Dax glared at Gabe.
“Sorry,” he said, not looking sorry at all.
“Now that that’s sorted, do you want to explain what you were thinking, taking on three armed men by yourself?” Brad crossed his arms over his chest while Vi walked around the prone bodies, sniffing.
“I didn’t want you guys involved. It could be trouble.” Rubbing the back of his neck, Dax surveyed the carnage. Although much better than the alternative, Dax didn’t think Morris would take the beating of his three soldiers with equanimity.
“Who gives a shit about trouble?” Gabe slapped Dax’s shoulder with the back of his hand. Wincing, he flexed and straightened his fingers. “You know we’ve got your back, right?”
Dax swallowed, his throat suddenly gone thick. Brad and Gabe had become much more than friends to him. He never could have imagined that getting arrested and sentenced to community service would have changed his life so much for the better.
“I know.” He cleared his throat. “But this is trouble you might not want. I can’t call the police, not for this. Lissa might get in trouble.”
“Uh …” Brad grimaced. “I called them. Jerome Davis should be here any minute.”
“What?”
“How was I to know this was supposed to be a black-ops situation?” Brad huffed. “Calling the police is what normal people do.”
Dax didn’t have an argument for that so he kept his mouth shut. But this wasn’t good. A free spirit like Liss couldn’t go to jail, not even for one night. She’d fade away to nothing.
Gabe rested his hand on Dax’s shoulder and squeezed. “I don’t think you have to worry about your girl getting scooped up by five-oh.” He reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a folded pink envelope and handed it to Dax. “After Lissa handed this to Marla to give to you, she asked Marla to drop her off at the bus station.”
Dax blinked, his mind too shocked to understand what Gabe was saying.
Until Gabe spelled it out.
“Sorry, man. Your girl’s gone.”
Chapter 22
Shoving two life preservers into a wet canvas bag, Dax cinched it up and tossed it to the side. It hit the storage room wall and fell to the ground, landing on a bag of helmets. That bag teetered and slipped, spilling its contents.
Threading his fingers together, Dax rested his hands on top of his head and closed his eyes. Perfect. Something else to clean up before his river-rafting expedition today.
“Hey, you’ll want to be careful with that equipment.” Jesse walked into the room and picked up one of the helmets. “After all, it’s going to be yours soon enough.”
“Sorry,” Dax muttered. He strode forward and dropped into a squat, nesting the helmets one within the other before replacing them in the bag. He reached for the one his boss held, then paused. “Wait, what?”
Jesse handed over the last helmet and grinned. “I hope the sale can go through soon. I’ve got plans for my retirement.”
Dax eased himself upright. “You’ve decided to sell to me? Even though my offer isn’t as high as Christian’s?”
Jesse shrugged and dipped his chin. “I was always going to sell to you. And it will be at the original price we agreed on. I just felt bad for Christian, so I told him I’d at least look at his offer. I wanted to be fair. But the highest dollar isn’t always the best deal. If this company folds, I won’t get paid on my note. I think you’re the better bet to make Off-Road a success.”
Dax waited. Waited for the elation that should come from knowing his dreams were about to be a reality. And kept waiting.
He felt nothing. As empty as a blank canvas. The victory was hollow without Lissa to celebrate it with.
But Jesse was standing there, looking at him expectantly, so Dax forced his lips to stretch and held out his hand. “Thanks. I appreciate it, and I’ll do everything in my power to run this company as capably as you have.”
Jesse shook his hand. “I know you will. Now, I don’t suppose you want to break the bad news to Christian for me, do you?”
Dax shook his head. “Until the company is officially signed over to me, I’ll leave the ugly stuff to you.”
Jesse ran his palm back and forth over his bald pate. “All right. I’d best get it over with.” He turned for the door. “You working a trip today?”
“Yeah, rafting the Sturgeon River.”
Jesse nodded. “Be safe. And make sure no one’s about to give birth.” He winked and was out the door.
Finding a plastic crate, Dax flipped it around and sat down. His shoulders sagged as though weighed down with an eighty-pound pack of gear. He unbuttoned the snap on the pocket at his thigh and pulled out the folded lavender envelope. He ran his thumb over the loose scrawl of his name.
Barking erupted down the hall, followed by Christian’s shouts. A moment later, William trotted into the room, a sweatshirt with Greek lettering printed on it clamped in his jaws. It
trailed on the floor as he bounded over to Dax.
He dropped his prize and nudged Dax’s arm with his nose.
Dax smiled. William had made the Off-Road Adventure’s office as much his home as he had Dax’s apartment, and pretty much had free rein of the place. Jesse loved him. Christian wasn’t a fan.
“I know,” Dax said. “I have a free hand and I should be using it to pet you.” He rubbed the dog’s chest, getting that spot right under the Bluetick’s front leg that he knew the dog loved. William rested his head on Dax’s thigh and looked up at him with liquid eyes.
Dax’s shoulders rounded. “I don’t know what I should do,” he whispered to the dog. Life had always come easy for him. He hadn’t liked college so he’d left, and had little trouble finding a job he loved. He had great friends, a good life, but, because he’d met Lissa, that was no longer enough. All the things that had made him happy only a month ago didn’t cut it anymore. For the first time, he felt like he was floundering. Just treading water instead of rafting, surfing, or diving into it as he usually did.
William raised his head and bayed, the long moaning sound trailing off into a gurgle.
“You’re right.” Dax slid the card into his breast pocket, then reached into his front pants pocket to pull out his phone. “If I want advice, I should call him.”
His dad picked up on the second ring. “Dax! Tell me something good.”
Dax blew out his lips. “Well, I got Off-Road. Jesse just told me he’s accepted my offer over Christian’s.”
“Excellent. I knew you could do it.” A plastic bag popped open and rustling came across the line followed by crunching.
“You’re not eating potato chips again, are you?” Picking up the sweatshirt, Dax dangled it in front of William for some tug-of-war. “You know what the doctor said.”
“No, and of course I know what the doctor said. He said it to me.” His father sighed. “I wish I was eating potato chips. This is some salt-free, gluten-free imposter that doesn’t fool anyone. You hear that, Gladys?” he shouted at Dax’s mom. “Don’t bother wasting money on these lying chips again. They’re liars, I tell you!”
One edge of Dax’s mouth curled up. “I could always send Mom the recipe for those kale chips I was telling you about.”
“God no.” His dad lowered his voice to a hush. “Don’t even joke about that.” He crunched on another faux chip. “Now, what’s wrong?”
Dax ran a hand through his hair. “Why do you ask? I just told you good news.”
“And you sound like I did after the Mariners lost the American League championship in ’01. Damn Yankees,” he muttered. “Now, don’t play games with the master. Talk to me.”
Dax smiled and shook his head. His dad always knew. The reason for his call niggled its way back into his brain and his smile dropped away. “Lissa left.” His chest squeezed painfully just saying the words.
“Oh.” His dad blew out a heavy breath. “I’m sorry, son. Sometimes it just doesn’t work out. Not everyone is meant to be together forever.”
“But that’s the thing.” Balling up the sweatshirt with one hand, Dax chucked it through the open door out into the hall. William’s feet slid sideways on the concrete floor as he raced after it. Tossing the sweatshirt about for a bit, William dropped it and trotted off down the hall; looking for the next thing he could destroy, no doubt.
Dax dropped his elbows to his knees. “It was working out. Really well. She left because she didn’t want me to get hurt.”
“Emotionally? Maybe she wasn’t feeling the same things you are,” his dad said. “Maybe she was smart to leave.”
“Not emotionally. Physically.”
There was a pregnant pause in which Dax could all but see his dad scratching his thinning hair.
“Wait. What?” his dad finally asked.
Running his thumb over the edge of her card, Dax ran down the highlights of Lissa’s troubles. When he was finished, he gripped the back of his neck and waited for his dad’s judgment. It wasn’t a pretty story.
“Well.” His dad cleared his throat. “Well, well.”
“Look, I know Liss made a mistake, but she’s a wonderful woman. Wait to draw your conclusions about her until you at least meet her, okay?”
“And how am I going to meet her if you let her get away?” his dad asked tartly. “I wasn’t drawing conclusions about her, the poor thing. I was wondering how I raised a man who could just let the love of his life slip away from him.”
“Hey! I didn’t let her. She snuck off. She could be anywhere.”
“And you don’t know where she’s going to be in a couple of weeks?” his dad asked.
Hmm. His dad had him there. He’d bet anything that Lissa would still show up at Bruggard-Tayo. After all, that was her dream. And she wasn’t the sort to sit back and let someone take it from her.
The situation wasn’t optimal. After all, he wanted Lissa close. Now. Where he could watch out for her. But showing up in Santa Fe in a couple of weeks was the best plan he had. The only plan he had.
When he found her, they would have a lot to talk about. Not least would be her idiotic idea that she should protect him. Her dillydallying across America, alone, with goons after her, and with a pack full of money no less, bordered on insanity. But as long as she was in one piece when he found her, and he could shake some sense into her, it would all be okay.
“Thanks, Dad.” Dax stood, his mind spinning with plans. He’d ask Jesse if he could stick around Off-Road until Dax got back from New Mexico. Maybe Dax would even keep Christian on for the first couple of months. He wasn’t a bad guide, and he hid his assholery fairly well from the customers. Whatever it took to make it work with Lissa was what Dax would do. “I’ve got to go. I want to check flights to Santa Fe.”
“That’s what I thought.” The smugness in his father’s voice didn’t even faze Dax. “Now, when you’ve got it all sorted out with her, you bring Lissa home to meet your mother and me. Got it?”
Heat radiated through Dax’s chest. His parents were going to love Lissa. “Got it, Dad. I’ll talk to you soon.” Ending the call, he lengthened his stride to hurry down the hallway. He turned the corner and pulled up short.
Jesse was outside his office door, peering in and frowning. He turned his head and caught sight of Dax. “I’m sorry, Dax. I told them to wait in the lobby and I’d come get you, but they insisted on waiting for you in here.”
Dax drew his eyebrows together. “Who?” He jogged down the rest of the hall.
Two men in suits crowded his office.
“They say they’re FBI,” Jesse whispered.
What the …? Dax stepped through as the men turned to look at him. One sat behind Dax’s desk, the other leaned against a filing cabinet.
“Dax Cannon?” The man standing reached into his pocket and withdrew a badge and identification.
Dax’s stomach began a slow, curling descent to his boots. Only one person would have law enforcement looking for her. And if it was the FBI, his Liss was in more trouble than he’d imagined.
“I’m Special Agent Holland,” the man said. He nodded to his partner. “This is Special Agent Strunk.”
Dax folded his arms across his chest. “What can I do for you?”
“We’re investigating potential crimes down in New Orleans and we think you know one of the principals involved.”
Blood pounded through Dax’s veins, but he kept his expression even. “What crime?” The FBI wouldn’t be investigating one woman taking back her money, even if they classified it as theft.
They also wouldn’t be investigating tax fraud. Dax’s last hope that Morris was only a slightly scummy dealer circled the drain.
“Money laundering.” The seated agent, Strunk, leaned forward and put his elbows on the desk. Dax’s desk. “Among other assorted crimes. We’re working in conjunction with
Treasury and ICE on this investigation.”
Jesse sucked in a sharp breath behind him. “What’s going on, Dax? What are you involved in?”
“Nothing.” Dax tossed a glance over his shoulder before focusing back on the feds. “I don’t know anything about these crimes they’re talking about.”
Agent Holland placed his right hand on his hip, the movement pushing the edge of his blazer back, revealing the gun holstered to his belt. “We didn’t say you did. But you know someone we want to talk to.”
“Where is Annelise Ansel?” Agent Strunk asked. “We know she traveled up to Michigan with you.”
“Yes, and now she’s left.” Dax shifted his weight to his other foot. He clenched his fingers into his opposite biceps. He needed to find Lissa. Fast. Get her to a lawyer. Maybe if she approached the FBI with an attorney by her side, she could offer up what she knew as evidence, without getting into any trouble herself.
He eyed the two men in their identical navy suits. He didn’t trust these agents. Not to keep Lissa safe and out of jail. They’d scoop her up without a second thought, threaten her, maybe even charge her with a crime so she’d plead to a lesser one in exchange for telling everything she knew.
Maybe Dax was being unfair. He was making a lot of assumptions based on movies he’d seen and the fact that he didn’t like their suits.
But what if he was right?
“Do you know how we can contact her?” Holland asked.
Dax shook his head.
“Do you know where she is?” Strunk stood and circled the desk.
Dax paused, then shook his head again.
The two agents shot each other a glance.
Agent Holland rested his hand on the butt of his gun, and Dax’s certainty about these two increased. It was a jerk move, meant to intimidate. These men wouldn’t hesitate to hurt Lissa if it got them their big fish.
“Lying to federal investigators is a crime, Mr. Cannon,” Holland said. “Think carefully before you answer again.” He took a step forward.
“For the last time, where is Annelise Ansel?”
Forever Wild Page 23