Freezing Point

by Elizabeth Goddard

  If it weren’t for her need to fall back into obscurity, she’d be there, waiting as soon as those men were arrested. How she’d love to smirk at the one who tried to silence her—that Carlos.

  Driving down Main Street, Casey could see the ice company in the distance.

  What was going on there at that very moment? Was Jesse arresting the bad guys, or had the deed already happened?

  Regardless, she hoped no one spotted her little green car and misunderstood, thinking she was up to trouble. But surely no one would notice her from this far away.

  She turned left on Shoreline Road and sped up. In her rearview mirror, she spotted lights emanating from the loading-dock side of the building—not so unusual. The men worked late at times, depending upon delivery needs.

  But she saw no flashing lights that would indicate the police were there.

  Lord, please, please keep Jesse safe.

  Her hands trembled against the steering wheel. Finally, she arrived at the beach house and zipped into the driveway. A few lights remained on as she’d left them, and the house looked as it should. She didn’t bother to drive into the garage—she wouldn’t be that long. Knowing that someone was watching out for her reassured her. Still, she wanted to be smart.

  Get in and get out…

  That was quickly becoming her mantra.

  If the alarm was tripped, she’d know something was wrong. Casey eased the front door open and glanced at the alarm. It blinked, which meant it was waiting for her to enter the code.

  Alert to her surroundings, Casey flipped on lights as she trotted down the hallway, making frequent glances behind her. What an idiot she was. If she was this paranoid, why had she even come?

  Relax. Tannin is in Oregon. The bad guys were with Jesse tonight. And Casey had protection.

  In the guest bedroom, she opened the closet and sighed with relief, like she expected someone was behind the door.

  Her big suitcase sat in the corner, undisturbed. Casey yanked it up and flung it on the bed. She opened it and began pulling the rest of her limited wardrobe from hangers and tossing the items into the luggage. The action reminded her of when she’d first fled Oregon. She hadn’t considered that she would be staying away from her aunt’s house for an extended period when packing to stay with Tessa. She could have taken it all then.

  As things stood, she couldn’t be certain if she would return.

  And that stupid diary—where had she put it? She searched the nightstands and under the pillows.

  Her heart nearly broke at the thought of leaving Jesse behind for good. Never knowing for sure if the words he’d spoken were true. Now she understood what he meant when he’d said that all that mattered right now was her safety. She felt the same way about him.

  In the end, the most important thing was his safety, and she continued to pray for that. She zipped the luggage and skimmed the contents of the room. Her aunt had mentioned returning in a few days, though she hadn’t given Casey a specific date. Casey wanted to leave the room like she’d found it. Spotless.

  But she didn’t have time to fluff the pillows. She had an increasing sense of unease and blew out a breath. She needed to leave now.

  Where is that diary? She bent to look under the bed. There.

  Her diary was under the bed along with…? What was that? The Lladro figurine. With everything that had happened, Casey had completely forgotten about it.

  On her knees, she slid her arm forward, reaching for the diary first.

  Pop, pop…

  Casey pulled back from under the bed, bumping her head and leaving the diary.

  Gunfire!

  Pop, pop…

  Glass shattered somewhere in the house.

  Casey froze, her heart seemed to stop, then pounded erratically.

  No!

  Not again. This couldn’t be happening again.

  Glancing around the room, she searched for a weapon and spotted another figurine. That tactic didn’t work so well for her the last time. Her cell was lying around somewhere. Or was it in the car because she’d been in a hurry?

  The landline phone was next to the bed. She lifted the receiver to call 911. No dial tone.

  Hands shaking, she almost shrieked.

  This was for real.

  No case of mistaken identity. At that moment, Casey knew she had one option—to get out of the house. To escape through the bedroom window was the only way out. She ran around the bed to the window where darkness stared back.

  Pain seared her scalp as something—or someone—caught her hair, snapping her head back and bringing tears to her eyes. She screamed and squeezed her eyes. When she opened them, she was staring into the eyes of a madman.

  “Tannin!”

  “You thought I wouldn’t find you,” he said, his sour breath hot in her face. “I’ve known where you were all along.”

  Hands still gripping her hair, he crushed her face down into the carpet as though to smother her. Then he yanked her head up again enough for her to breathe and for him to press his face near hers, making sure she had to look into his eyes. See the death wish there.

  “Will, no, please…” Her voice sounded like someone else’s, trembling, begging.

  “You had no idea who you were messing with when you started that article!” He was yelling now.

  Casey felt the last of her will to fight trampled under the terror he was raining down on her. “No, you’re right. I didn’t have a clue. I’m so sorry.”

  “And you still don’t know.” He tightened his grip on her hair. “It doesn’t matter, because sorry isn’t good enough. It’s too late for me and now it’s too late for you.”

  Oh, Lord, please help me!

  “What are you going to do?”

  She asked, knowing she was going to die. There could be no doubt. If there was a time for Jesse to save her, now was it. But she knew where he was—he was fighting his own battle. She couldn’t wait for him.

  Tannin grabbed her wrists and flipped her over, venom in his eyes. He reached for her throat. Casey begged him with her eyes and searched the room for something—anything—that could help her. But as the pressure closed around her throat, choking off her air, she knew it was hopeless. She groped for the bed post with one hand and the dresser drawer with the other. If she could pull a drawer out…

  It was impossible.

  Speckles of light began edging her vision. Wait. The figurine was still under the bed.

  Could she reach it? She stretched while fighting unconsciousness.

  Gripping it with her hand, it felt solid and heavy. With all her strength—please, Lord—she slid it from under the bed and swung at Tannin’s head, slamming it into his temple.

  His eyes rolled back and he loosened his grip, releasing her. He fell over next to her. Hands at her throat, Casey gasped for breath and climbed to her feet.

  What had happened to the agent who was supposed to be watching her? Was that what the gunfire was about? Was he injured or dead?

  Tannin groaned. Casey wasn’t going to wait around for him to rouse. Unfortunately, he was between her and the door. Dare she step over him? What if he woke up and grabbed her?

  She made for the window, her original plan, and opened it then slipped through and landed on the deck. She ran around the house and climbed into the VW.

  Slipping her fingers into her pocket, she freed the keys and started the ignition. Casey peeled from the driveway and watched her cell slide from the passenger seat into the space between the seat and the door.

  The only way to reach it was to stop the car and climb over the seat or get out and walk around. Forget that.

  She would drive directly to the police station—they’d believe her this time about a crazy man trying to kill her. The guy had been in her aunt’s house. There would have to be evidence all over the place, including her neck. If only Tannin would follow her directly there, then she could get her life back.

  But things never worked out so easily.

 
A quarter of a mile up the road, bright headlights filled her rearview mirror, nearly blinding her.

  The vehicle was big, had to be a truck or SUV, and judging by the aggressive approach, she knew it was Tannin.

  He slammed into the rear of her car. Casey’s head whipped back against the seat, sending pain through her neck and shoulders, and reigniting the throb in her head.

  Ignoring the pain, she pressed the gas pedal to the floor.

  Come on, come on, come on!

  Climbing the hill, the VW couldn’t accelerate enough. Soon, they’d approach the bend in the road.

  The vehicle behind her bumped her again. To her horror, the driver pulled right next to her on the left.

  He was in the wrong lane.

  Headlights appeared up the road, heading directly toward them. Casey glanced over. She couldn’t see inside the SUV. Was he going to back off, or what?

  She’d better slow up herself, unless she wanted to be part of this collision.

  Before she released the accelerator, Tannin slammed into her from the side.

  Her car veered off the road and went into a spin.

  Casey steered into the spin, trying to maintain control.

  She’d been knocked too far to easily get back on the road, and then the car skidded to a stop. The airbags deployed. Stunned, Casey sat still, trying to comprehend it all.

  She knew she had to get back on the road. Taking in her surroundings, realization dawned.

  Déjà vu. This was the same place where she’d gotten the flat and been forced from the road. Was that the same SUV that tried to run into her before?

  She searched the darkness and spotted the vehicle up the road.

  Upside down.

  And what happened to the other car? Surely if they hadn’t been involved in the wreck, they’d call the police.

  Casey attempted to disentangle herself from the airbags. Could she even start her car now? Even so, how could she steer the thing with this mass of nylon fabric hanging all over? Casey freed herself and clambered from the car.

  Breathless, she glanced up the road again.

  Was Tannin…? Had he survived that? Could she leave him? She jogged up the road and approached the flipped vehicle. She leaned over to peer at the driver’s side. If Tannin had survived, what then?

  Buckled in his seat belt—he’d had time to do that?—Tannin hung upside down in his seat. Blood oozed from the side of his head and dripped down to what under normal circumstances would be the ceiling of the cab.

  Tannin began to stir. The seat belt had saved his life. If Casey’s car had flipped, she was certain she wouldn’t have been so lucky, because she hadn’t buckled.

  In the distance, Casey saw the lights from the ice company still shining bright. Despite the danger there, the lights were a warm invitation. With Tannin stirring now and her car inoperable, what choice did she have?

  She recalled the several times Jesse had been there for her. And even if he couldn’t help her tonight, even if he was caught up in the sting operation, she could at least hide somewhere because she still had the key to his studio.

  And maybe, just maybe, the madman chasing her would be the one to stumble into Carlos at the wrong time.

  * * *

  The hairs on the back of Jesse’s neck stood erect as he sliced blocks of dry ice into ten-pound slabs, wearing protective gloves. The cash would go between the slabs. He thought when Miguel had told him the guy had arrived early, he was speaking of the man delivering the cash, but no, it was Harrison Spear.

  Jesse had already had one run-in with him at Casey’s house. He’d been the one to drop the incriminating thumb drive.

  Jesse had no doubt he wanted his property back. When Jesse stepped from the back of the truck onto the concrete of the loading dock, Spear was talking to Miguel. He eyed Jesse with distrust.

  Was he about to lose control here? Lose his life, too? Though he’d wanted to prove himself one last time, if he had things to do over again, he might choose to quit and go away with Casey, make a new life together.

  But now he might have completely blown it with her and lost that chance, as well.

  He made his way to Miguel, ignoring Spear’s looks, trying to act like he was clueless to the man’s personal issues. Approaching Miguel, he said, “What next?”

  “Don’t be impatient, Jesse. We’re waiting for the delivery.”

  “But the sublimation time is counting down.”

  The sound of a vehicle entering the parking lot sent a mixture of relief and tension through Jesse. Since Spear’s arrival, his apprehension had climbed a few notches. If he could get Miguel alone, maybe he could find out what the guy was doing here—or maybe this was all part of the process. It seemed logical to ask to be introduced, but then, he’d already met the guy at the Helms’s house, and he wasn’t sure bringing that up in front of Miguel or Carlos at the moment was for the best.

  Besides, Spear himself didn’t appear eager to disclose that they knew each other. He, too, had something to hide.

  Jesse barely caught the smirk before it crept over his face.

  There was no reason to smirk. Spear suspected something. Jesse could feel it in his bones. The vehicle, which Jesse now saw was an old silver Buick Roadmaster, pulled next to the refrigerated truck. That made sense—it had a sizable trunk.

  He held on to his cool veneer, but his pulse thrummed through his veins.

  This should be the cash.

  The driver—a man Jesse had never met—popped the trunk to reveal a case about four square feet. Jesse would guess the case held, depending on the size of the bills, anywhere from half a mill to a mill and a half.

  His throat constricted.

  Carlos and Spear pulled the case from the trunk of the car and slid it onto the edge, where Miguel and Jesse lifted it into the back of the truck. They both climbed in and worked quickly to stack the cash between the slabs. Though the truck was well ventilated, Jesse wasn’t of a mind to die from asphyxiation tonight. He had a job to complete, and hopefully, a woman to love.

  Suddenly, Carlos jumped into the back of the truck.

  “Someone’s here,” he said with a scowl and pulled a gun.

  Had one of the agents reacted too soon? Jesse hadn’t given the signal yet.

  “Who is it?” Miguel asked.

  Jesse wasn’t in a good position to signal for backup, but he might have no choice.

  “Jesse’s girlfriend. It was like I thought, Miguel. She can’t be trusted.” Carlos lifted his chin, defiant. “And neither can he.”

  Oh, no! He couldn’t signal them now, not with her here. She could get killed.

  Miguel looked from Jesse to Carlos and pressed the gun Carlos held toward the floor. “I’ll check it out,” Miguel said.

  “I’m coming, too,” Jesse said, his blood raging to the boiling point.

  What are you doing, Casey?

  Carlos stared Jesse down as he passed. “Miguel! We do not have time for this.”

  “So get to work,” Miguel said. Spear leaped into the truck, apparently eager to get the cash stashed into hiding.

  “Come on, Jesse,” Miguel motioned for him to follow.

  Furious, Jesse thought he would explode.

  I don’t believe this!

  Had she fooled them all? Jesse squeezed his hands into fists and followed Miguel.

  He needed to signal to the others, but in doing so, Casey could get caught in the crossfire. He had to assess this new threat first. Again, timing was everything.

  And what would he do if they actually found her?

  Jesse wished he could pull his gun, but that might tip his hand too soon. They exited the loading dock next to the truck and jogged around the side of building where Casey had been seen.

  As they neared the corner, Miguel peeked around, Jesse right behind him. “Look, Miguel. Let me handle Casey.”

  Miguel lifted a finger to his lips then slid back from view. “There’s someone after her.”

 
“What? What makes you say that?”

  “I saw a man jump from the shadows. He looked roughened up, bloody, even from this distance.”

  “Was it Knife Guy?”

  Miguel shook his head. “I don’t think so, never saw him before. He went in the side door to your studio.”

  Jesse and his brilliant idea to give Casey a key.

  Miguel moved to slip around the corner, and Jesse tugged him back. “Let me take care of this, okay? She’s my problem.”

  For the first time, Jesse thought he saw doubt in Miguel’s eyes, but the man only nodded. “We’re brothers, Jesse. I trust you.”

  Miguel crept back toward the light from the loading dock. Jesse tried to numb his mind against Miguel’s words, knowing what Miguel would soon discover about him. The sour taste of bile rose in his throat and he spat it out.

  Whoever was after Casey—if it was related to the crime ring or if it was the infamous Will Tannin who had apparently skipped town—Casey was running for her life.

  Of that, Jesse had no doubt. Otherwise she would never have come here tonight, knowing the danger she was in. Knowing the danger she would put them both in by showing her face.

  He crept around the building to his studio and slipped inside, gun at the ready. He made a quick search and discovered it empty, then slowly moved through the maze of corridors in search of Casey.

  He had to keep his anger in check. He reminded himself that she knew what was going down tonight and the only reason she would be here was because she thought that was her only choice.

  Because Jesse was here. She’d told him that he really was her hero; that, after he told her about his job—well, at least before she decided she couldn’t trust him because of his job.

  * * *

  Casey was nearly out of breath, but she couldn’t give up now, not when she was close to surviving this maniac’s attempt to kill her. She’d run as hard and fast as she could away from the scene and turned in time to see Tannin climb from the SUV and make his way toward her.

  Aware that he was following her, she led him to the ice company, knowing she could use that to her advantage. She’d avoided running directly into the gaping entry of the loading dock because she saw the men there, Jesse among them, so she’d used the key Jesse had given her.