Cassie awoke alone, and as disheartening as that was to her, it wasn’t exactly unexpected. There were appearances to be kept, and assassins in play, or something like that. Either way, she wasn’t exactly pleased about this turn of events and took her time with her morning routine as a result.
Last night…just thinking about it made her sigh. The whole day had been an emotional rollercoaster, but the end…oh, the end of the day had been perfect. Falling asleep in Mack’s arms was exactly what she’d needed, and from the way he’d held her, probably what he’d needed as well. And today was the day.
After she dressed, she collected all her stuff from the bathroom and packed it away, leaving nothing out except the orange Broncos shirt, jeans, and cowboy boots she wore. Though it had only been a few days, it felt like a lifetime in terms of experience, and by tonight, hopefully, she’d be back with Trista with a notebook full of new material and ready to resume her life. She only hoped it included Mack, but the jury was still out on that one.
Checking Mack’s room, Cassie found it packed like her own, with his duffle bag sitting by the closed door. A feeling of loneliness stole over her with a shiver, but she shook it off and stepped into the hallway. The house was silent, which seemed odd for the number of people present, and she figured they’d already left to take care of the situation. Now the shudder returned for a different reason. The whole idea of stalking killers scared the hell out of her, but she was glad for them and grateful they were working on her behalf.
About halfway down the stairs, she heard voices coming from the living room. A male voice with a slight accent had her pausing on the steps as she listened.
“…I didn’t want to do this the hard way, but if you force me, I certainly will.”
Holy shit, he was threatening Mack! Or Eli, or…someone! Hell! Looking around, she took a step back up the stairs with a thought to running. To where? She suddenly understood the mentality of all those horror movie heroines who go upstairs instead of leaving the house. No phone, she didn’t know what she’d do with a gun if she had one… Hell!
Cassie peered over the railing and realized she was still too high up to jump down to the tile floor on the ground without hurting herself. Taking the steps extra-slowly, she crept down the stairs, hoping whomever was there would be distracted enough for her to make a break for the door.
“Cassandra,” called the man whose face was permanently etched in her mind and every muscle in her body froze. “Good to see you’re awake, do come join us.”
“I’d really rather not, if it’s all the same to you.” Her lips felt numb as they stumbled over the words. Mack was on the couch subtly shaking his head and blinking at her meaningfully.
Chuy stood slowly, making sure the gun was clearly displayed as he beckoned her. “Oh, but I insist.”
* * *
Daviess came tearing around the corner into Grambling’s office like his head was on fire. “Boss! Boss! Boss!”
“De Plane?” Austin inquired pleasantly. They’d developed a certain rapport over the last week, and he felt the young man could take a bit of teasing.
His lackey, though, furrowed his brow showing his confusion. “I’m sorry?”
He’d have to work on his delivery, he decided, and possibly an older audience. “Never mind. You have something for me, Daviess?”
In an instant, the confusion was gone, and back was the confident and slightly manic swagger Austin had come to appreciate. “Absolutely. Cassie’s phone just went live.”
Feigning interest instead of panic was difficult, but Grambling held firm as he fished in his pocket for his own cell phone. “Where?”
“In downtown Phoenix.”
Two hours from where his cousin was. Fuck! “Excellent. Thank you. Keep tabs on the phone and I’ll get a team in place.” Daviess nodded and left, tapping his tablet screen as Austin whipped out his phone and fired off a couple texts. “Fuckin’ hell.”
* * *
Still unsure of how to proceed, Cassie gingerly took each step with her eyes firmly focused on the gun in the man’s hand. “So…what brings you by?”
He smiled at her pleasantly, the way he did at the birthday party. Only hours before he blew a hole through Clint. “Why, you of course, silly. Come, join us.” A hint of steel wound through his magnanimous offer this time, and it was difficult not to jump.
“May I get you anything? I mean, I just made some tea in the fridge,” she offered, trying to buy some time and taking a step backward toward the kitchen.
His smile sharpened, showing off his perfect—and frighteningly sharp—teeth. “How thoughtful of you, but I must decline.”
A buzzing filled the silence for a moment, freezing his smile in place as he blindly reached into his pocket. The moment he looked down at his screen, everything happened at once.
“Go!” Mack shouted at he shot off the couch and into the hitman’s side, knocking him to the floor as they rolled around.
As much as she wanted to stick around and help, she knew he would not be happy if they both were taken hostage, and hopefully she could find a way to contact the outside world. She was out the French doors and around the pool, cutting up toward the stables when she heard the gunshot that had her feet tangling and sending her down into the dirt path.
The silence that reigned after the shot was heavier than the sun beating down on her back, and try as she might, catching her breath was not an option. All she could think of was how she was running away. Again. She didn’t know who was shot or what had happened, but she knew she had to keep moving just in case.
When she got to the stable, the horses danced around in their stalls at her presence, probably sensing her agitation.
“Chris!” She ran into the office and found it empty, with no sign of the stable master. “Chris!” she called again, but the silence that answered only increased her freak out. There was no phone out there, no laptop, nothing she could use to contact the outside world. Fuck.
Looking around as she stomped back out of the office, she noticed in the far back corner an ATV half covered with a heavy canvas tarp. Exactly what she needed.
When it didn’t start the third time she tried, Cassie looked over the ignition and finally noticed the suspicious puddle underneath it. Hell. “Okay, Cass, think.”
Looking around, she saw a bridle hanging from a hook on the wall. Taking it, she ran over to Honey’s stall. “All right, girlie, we need to make this happen. Work with me.” Honey, for her part, stuck her head out and allowed Cassie to suit her up.
Not wanting to take time to saddle up her mount, Cassie led her out into the paddock and climbed up the fence railing next to Honey. The horse looked skeptical, but held still anyway as she swung a leg over her back and took a seat.
It had been a long time since Cassie had gone bareback, but this was not the time to bitch about the twinges in her hips and thighs. With a gentle squeeze, she coaxed Honey out of the paddock and onto the trail northbound.
She rode at a good clip, with Honey making great strides away from the house toward the Navajo Nation. When they got to the fence, Cassie didn’t have time to ponder the legality of what they were doing when Honey made the jump and they were suddenly on sovereign lands.
Leaning down to pat her horse’s neck, she breathed a sigh of relief that she’d managed to keep her seat. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
The longer they rode, the further into the desert they wandered, and it was then Cassie realized she hadn’t prepared for the trip. It was hot, damn hot, bright as two blocks from the sun, and her mouth had gone dry as soon as she’d heard the gunshot. People died in the desert from lack of preparation and exposure, and it was a horrible, painful way to go.
Red dirt, cactus, and brush fanned out in all directions around her, and she couldn’t even see the house from where they were. Her thoughts wandered back to the house, to Mack. God, please let him be okay.
The siren whoop from her left startled her and set Honey to dancing in place a
s she slowed down. Apparently neither of them was expecting company. Seeing a white Ford Explorer with flashing red and blue lights was possibly the best thing to happen to her since Mack.
Reining Honey to a stop, she leaned over to pet the horse’s neck as the SUV pulled up alongside them with the window down. A man with long black braids, a brown shirt buttoned down to his wrists, and most importantly a shiny gold badge on his chest, leaned out with a pleasant smile. “You lost, honey?”
Hearing her name, the horse danced closer and nuzzled his hand. The man returned the affectionate greeting with a tongue click and a soft pat on her nose.
“Holy God, officer, you have no idea how glad I am to see you. Is there a station around here?” Her mind was racing at a million miles an hour. Mack, the hitman, Ange and her colleagues.
The cop looked from the horse, who was now trying to chew on his sleeve, to her face, eyes going wide the moment he recognized her. “Holy crap! You’re Cassie Witt!”
She nodded quickly, eyes darting back in the direction of house. There’d be time for introductions later. “Yes, I am. I really need you to take me to a police station or lend me your cell phone. It’s an emergency.”
The star struck cop blinked at her. “My daughter Bonita loves you!”
Realizing that losing her patience was not the best choice, Cassie decided to resort to bribery. “I will personally hug your daughter and sign whatever she wants me to if you take me to your station. Please. It’s an emergency,” she repeated, hoping she was not out of time.
He seemed to come back to himself, shaking his head and sitting up straighter in the driver’s seat. “Oh! Yeah! Of course! Oh, wow. Ellen’s going to freak!” He wheeled the SUV around and led her back to his station, one of three buildings in the tiny town of Coyote Falls, a misnomer if ever there was one.
After the hour and a half ride, it felt amazing to be in air conditioning and to drink water. She felt like she was never going to quench her thirst. As soon as she got to the station, though, she called her cell phone since she couldn’t remember Ange’s number. She’d answered on the first ring, and she and the entourage were on their way to the police station to pick Cassie up.
They could have materialized instantly in front of her and it would have still been too long, and her anxiety over Mack’s fate had her pacing the conference room. Chief Roger Smith and the young-looking dispatcher, Ellen Whitecrow, kept her in water and snacks while she waited. With just the two of them, both more than happy to cater to a bona fide celebrity, Cassie didn’t worry that any moment now, in addition to her personal life-and-death drama, the media would be arriving momentarily.
It took a moment for her to settle down long enough to fully explain the situation to the Chief, but once she did, he left her to head to his office to make some calls. His dispatcher also left her sequestered in their little conference room while she went to help him coordinate the impending siege of the house just south of their sovereign borders.
The front doors of the tiny four room police station, not counting the holding cell, burst open. The sun blinded everyone for a moment before Cassie saw her salvation in black garb with flaming red hair.
“You guys know there’s a horse tied up outside?” Bex asked as she breezed in.
Chief Smith, with a cell phone wedged between his ear and shoulder, emerged from his office to step between Bex and Cassie with his hand resting on his holster. “I’m sorry, who are you?”
Bex stopped short and pulled out her wallet with a practiced motion, showing her badge and then her ID. “Bex Miller, United States Marshal. This woman,” she nodded toward Cassie without taking her eyes from the cop, “is in our care.”
After a hasty goodbye, the Chief stuffed his phone in his breast pocket as he walked over to offer her his hand. “Oh, good. Cassie said she was expecting you.”
Ange arrived a moment later, immediately going to Cassie and sweeping her up in a fierce hug. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you? Where’s Mack?”
“One question at a time,” Eli chided as he appeared behind her. “Are you okay?”
With them there, she felt she could finally fix this situation. “Don’t worry about me. Mack…at the house… Chuy! And then there were shots and holy God!” She clung to Ange’s shirt, begging her, “You need to go to the house. Please!”
The dispatcher appeared, in her Northern Arizona University t-shirt and her long hair in a braid to her waist, with bottles of water and and some vending machine snacks for their guests. Once situated in the conference room, they were all joined by Chief Smith, who brought them up to speed on his plans to hit the house in search of a possible officer down. Cassie told them everything she knew, right up to arriving at the station.
“You need to go to the house. Please. I think Mack needs your help.”
Ange was already strapping up and gratefully took the Chief’s offer of a shotgun. “The Fugitive Task Force is half an hour behind us. I’ll let them know to hit the house.”
Looking a little shaken, but resolved, Mack’s partner stepped outside while Eli and Bex coordinated with the Chief.
“You okay staying with Ms. Whitecrow?” Bex asked her earnestly as she checked her gun’s clip and pocketed an extra. The team was setting up around the house and arrangements had been made to put an officer on Conchita, just in case.
As much as she wanted to go with them, she knew there was damn little she could do to help. “Do I have a choice?”
Ange came back inside only long enough to get Bex. “You do not.” To Bex, she barked, “Eli and the team’re in place. Roll out.” With a last tense smile that looked more like a grimace of pain, they were gone and she was left in the station with the dispatcher.
A young woman, probably only a little younger than herself, sat at a desk with a switchboard-looking radio and a single telephone. In the corner was a small flatscreen showing an episode of the First 48.
Cassie took a seat gingerly next to her desk, noting the open organic chemistry book and the spiral notebook not unlike the one she kept in Betsy’s case, also full of scribbles. “Thank you for having me.”
The woman scoffed, “Are you kidding? They will be talking about this for years! You are easily the biggest thing to hit this town since…well, ever, I guess.”
Hearing it put that way, Cassie cringed. She hated bringing upheaval into people’s lives, regardless of her celebrity status. “I’m still grateful.”
“Don’t even worry about it,” the young woman replied as she pushed an open pack of gum in Cassie’s direction. “So, I gotta know…”
Cassie raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”
“How was kissing Chris Young in your video?”
The question caught her off guard and she laughed, appreciating the attempt at distraction. She unwrapped the violet gum and popped a piece in her mouth. “Actually, it was kind of perfect.”
* * *
Whoever said they would rather die with an arrow in their forehead instead of one in their back had never been shot in the leg and subsequently trucked across the desert on the back of an ATV, Mack reasoned as consciousness returned to him once more. He’d been in and out since he’d been hit, and though Chuy had—for reasons he feared he would be finding out shortly—tied off the wound, the blood loss was still noticeable in every breath and woozy motion.
Opening his eyes was a dicey proposition since he felt like he’d sustained a concussion during the fight. Something about the table and his head, or something…he wasn’t quite clear on that, but he did remember giving as good as he got, at least, right up until the gunshot. And as much as he thought he was a badass and could take anything, his leg fucking hurt.
Focus, he needed to focus, if he was going to get out of there and find Cassie. God, he hoped she’d gotten out okay…
Concentrating made his brain hurt more, and the nausea that threatened him was back with a vengeance. But at least now he knew where he was. From the feel of the ground under his ass and the uny
ielding and jagged rock digging into his arms which had been secured behind his back. Even without looking, he knew he was in the canyon.
“No, I had the situation under control until someone sent me a goddamn text! What the hell? I told you I would contact you when I was done. What part of that did you not understand?” Chuy was chewing someone out seriously, and something about the condescending tone, the cadence, seemed unreasonably familiar.
Mack was so busy trying to place it that he kind of drifted off, only coming back when Chuy smacked him across the face. He squinted up into his captor’s smiling face.
“Morning, sunshine.” Satisfied his victim was conscious, he stepped away and picked something up from the ground. “You know, I found this place last night while I was scouting the best point of entry to the house. It’s beautiful… in an indigenous way.” He made it sound like he was reviewing an art show and found it lacking. Even a compliment was a weapon, which, again, reminded Mack of someone familiar to him. “Hey.”
Mack blinked up at him, feeling consciousness come flooding back to him again with a prick in his arm. He looked down to see Chuy kneeling as he injected him with something, and suddenly his mind washed clear of the haze it had been in, and his heart tripped over in his chest as it beat double-time. “What the hell did you do to me?”
Chuy rose to his feet and walked back across the cave to a black canvas duffle next to a large tailgate cooler. “You won’t be asking me that in a minute.”
“What the hell does that mean?” The confidence and joy in the hitman’s voice had Mack scrambling to get his limbs to work and get him out of there. That feeling doubled when he saw the spark of flint in the muted light of the cave and heard the blowtorch fire up. “Oh, fuck no!” The more he moved, the less coordinated he became as the panic settled over him.
Mack saw the X-shaped iron brand in his hand as he stepped through a shaft of light. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what was coming next, only how long he’d be conscious for it.
Bulletproof Princess Page 17