Gotcha!

by Christie Craig

  “No. She went inside,” Adkins admitted.

  “Damn it. She isn’t supposed to go inside….”

  “Shit!” Adkins said. “Was that a Buddha?”

  “What?” Jake yelled, but the line clicked dead.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Jake drove and dialed at the same time. Adkins’s phone rang. No answer. Jake turned on his siren and shot out into traffic, putting his emergency light on his dash at the same time. Then he called and requested backup at the Dayton address.

  What had Macy done? Friggin’ A, when he got his hands on her…If he got his hands on her. Damn it! He gripped the steering wheel, swerved to miss a car, and for the first time in a very long while, he prayed.

  Still fighting a wave of panic, he slammed on his brakes when he passed Dayton Avenue. Doing an illegal U-turn, he drove like a bat out of hell. Finally, he spotted the house. Cars crowded the street: sedans and patrol cars, but no ambulance.

  His engine hadn’t given its last sputter as he tore out of his Monte Carlo. He hit the porch steps, and glass crunched beneath his feet. The broken window caught his eye. Then he saw the stone statue of a decapitated Buddha laying belly up on the concrete porch.

  As he started inside, a uniformed cop moved to stop him. “HPD.” Jake flashed his badge and squeezed through the crowd. His gaze zipped back and forth as he moved. Where the hell was Macy?

  There! He spotted her curled up on the sofa. Relief washed over him. Now to decide which to do, kiss or throttle her.

  She raised her gaze and saw him. Guilt flashed in her eyes.

  Adkins appeared. “I figured you’d show up,” he said. “What happened?” Jake spat.

  “We got one.” Adkins pointed to the handcuffed man in the corner.

  Jake recognized Chase Roberts. The convict looked mad enough to kill—and he could have killed Macy. He was definitely going to throttle her himself.

  “What the hell were you thinking, letting her come here?” he growled at her supposed bodyguard.

  “I did my job. I was supposed to follow her,” Adkins snapped.

  “And you didn’t realize this address is right down the street from one escaped convict’s wife? What Cracker Jack box did you get your badge from?”

  Agent Adkins took a menacing step forward.

  Agent James appeared. “Go get some fresh air,” he told Adkins. Then he turned to Jake. “You leave my men to me.”

  Jake gritted his teeth. “You know he screwed up.”

  “I’d say we’ve all screwed up.” He shook his head. “He just came on the case this morning. He hasn’t had time to read the files.” James let out a deep breath. “We thought we had him.”

  “Had who?”

  “Tanks. But it wasn’t him.”

  “What do you mean?” Jake asked.

  “We got a call that three men were staying at a hotel twenty miles outside the border. They all met the description of our guys. I sent most of my men to bring them in.” He passed a hand over his face. “We all let our guard down.”

  James looked back at the man in handcuffs. “Plus, we have Chase Roberts, which might lead us—”

  “Macy Tucker might have been killed,” Jake growled.

  James’s left eyebrow arched. “Well, I have no better luck keeping tabs on my men than you do your girlfriend.” The Fed’s tone was half teasing. Then he sighed. “I won’t argue that it was an ideal situation. But it looks like your girl knows how to defend herself. Roberts is only just now able to stand straight again. Buddha didn’t fare so well, either.”

  Jake shot his little ballbuster another look. She stood from the sofa and moved across the room toward them. Jake noticed new bruises on her arms. He reached for her.

  “I’m fine,” she said, and looked at Agent James. “This is all on me. He had nothing to do with it.”

  “I don’t doubt it,” Agent James said. “But I am curious to how you knew to come here.”

  Macy looked back at Jake. A flicker of guilt darkened her eyes. “I thumbed through a file I found in Baldwin’s car. I went to Roberts’s wife’s house, and her son told me his mom was here. But I didn’t know Chase Roberts was.”

  Agent James shot Jake a hard look.

  “It’s not his fault,” Macy repeated as Agent James walked away.

  Jake turned to her. “We had a deal.”

  “I didn’t think I was doing anything stupid,” she said. “I made sure he followed me.” She pointed to Adkins. “All I wanted was to ask the wife a few questions. I thought maybe—”

  Jake leaned down until his nose bumped hers. “We…had…a…deal.”

  “But—”

  “Go sit your ass down and don’t move until I say so.” He pointed at the sofa.

  “Fine,” she said. “But when you stop being so pissy, I need to talk to you about what I found out about Ellie.” She plopped down where he’d told her.

  Jake counted to ten and then did exactly what Macy expected. He asked her exactly what information she’d uncovered.

  The cops were outside. Billy couldn’t believe it. He moved into the bedroom. Ellie rose from the bed where she’d been reading a gardening magazine. “I’m not sure I’m talking to you yet.”

  He saw the window was open and pressed his finger to his lips to shush her. His heart pounded in his ears, and he remembered he’d left his gun under the sofa. Not that he’d use it, but if he had to run he’d want the darn thing.

  “What?” Ellie whispered. Right then, the trailer was jarred by Andy shutting the front door behind him.

  Billy stepped to the window, and with one finger he separated the blinds to see out. Ellie moved beside him, and he heard her breath hitch as she spotted the cop car.

  As Andy stepped onto the driveway, the patrol officer got out of his car. He brought his radio receiver with him. “Blue van, license number…” When the cop finished calling it in, Andy approached.

  “Hi,” he said. He didn’t sound too shaky, Billy hoped.

  The officer glanced around. “I’m looking for Mr. Nelson.”

  Andy grinned. “He lives down the road. Green trailer.”

  “This isn’t 64 Callway?”

  “It’s 62. What’s wrong? Harold not pay his child support again?”

  The officer nodded and pointed to Andy’s Falcon, which was parked halfway up the yard. “Did you know the sticker has expired?”

  Andy tucked both his hands in his jeans pockets. “Yeah, I’m planning on going today and renewing.”

  “You do that.” The officer got back his car and drove off down the street.

  The trailer shook as Andy reentered it. “He’s gone,” the kid called out, laughing.

  “I heard,” Billy said.

  Ellie had tears in her eyes.

  Billy went over, wrapped his arm around her, and pulled her against him. And right then, he knew he had to get away from her. He couldn’t let her get caught up in this any more than he already had. But first he had to know.

  Almost as if she’d read his mind, she looked up. “I never called David, I swear. The only people I called last night were my brother and Mrs. Kelly at the nursing home. And no, I didn’t use my phone. I used Andy’s.”

  He remembered he’d never seen who was talking on the phone on that front porch. Then the severity of the situation hit. “Your brother knows you’re with me, doesn’t he? He told you to get away from me, didn’t he?”

  “Yeah.” Her brow wrinkled. “How do you know what he said?”

  Billy raked a hand through his hair. “Did you tell him where you were?”

  “No. Why?”

  “He’s with Tanks,” Billy muttered. “Damn it, Ellie! Your brother is with Tanks. And Tanks wants to hurt you, just like he wants to hurt Mace.” He took her by the shoulders and gripped her hard. “Would your brother be with him if knew Tanks wants to hurt you?”

  “He wouldn’t.” Her eyes grew moist. “How do you know he’s with David? He was staying at a friend’s house.”


  Billy didn’t answer. He was too busy playing connect the dots. When he went to get Tanks, if her brother was there and pulled a weapon, Billy might have to shoot him too. That, or take a bullet. Why did things have to be so fucked-up?

  Then Billy remembered that the cops had called in their license number. “Who does that van belong to?” he asked.

  “My brother,” Ellie said.

  Billy took two steps and leaned his forehead to the wall, all the while fighting the panic slowly rising in his chest. Could things get any worse? If there were any warrants out for Ellie’s brother or if the police suspected him in connection with the breakout, the cops would come back quick.

  He looked up. “I’ve got to get out of here.” He raked a hand over his face. “You can’t stay, either. Do you have someplace you can go?” He stepped toward the door.

  She caught his arm. “I’m not going anywhere without you. You make me madder than blue fire, Billy Moore, but I still love you.”

  “No, Ellie. You can’t come with me.” It was time to call it quits.

  It was almost seven that evening when Macy and Jake left the precinct to get something to eat. He was still angry at her, she could tell. Though he shouldn’t have been. Especially when the information about Ellie’s brother—or foster brother, as Jake and the FBI discovered—had turned out to be important. It seemed he had ties to the same gang that Tanks belonged to. After some checking, they’d also learned the phone calls from Tanks to Ellie’s house had been made while Ellie was at work. Everyone was back to believing Ellie wasn’t involved with the escape, other than probably helping Billy after the fact.

  In spite of being sore and chagrined, Macy couldn’t help but feel a little heroic for providing the authorities with their new lead, and for being somewhat responsible for catching one of the escapees. Her plans to someday work for the DA’s office wouldn’t be hurt by this little escapade.

  Okay, maybe running across Chase Roberts had been more about luck—both bad and good—than skill, but a girl was allowed to enjoy her accomplishments, wasn’t she? And hey, she’d taken on an escaped convict and won. Nan was right: busting balls did give a girl a thrill.

  The waitress showed them to their table. Macy picked up her menu. Though Jake hadn’t totally gotten over being mad, she could tell he was working on it. Plus, a miffed Jake gave her some insight into him.

  She peeked at him over the top of her menu. He wasn’t looking at his; he was looking at her. Frankly, she liked seeing how he handled his temper. No way was she getting involved with a guy who—Damn, was she throwing in the towel?

  She hid behind her menu. Did she really want to go here? Risk having her heart chewed up? Did she even have a choice?

  Hell, yeah, she had a choice, a voice inside her screamed. It wasn’t as if she was in love or anything. Love didn’t happen in five days. Lust? Yeah. Like? Heck, yeah. Respect, too. But love? That took time to grow.

  They hadn’t even made love yet.

  Getting out now would save her, before the lust, like, or respect deepened. But that’s where she came to a mental roadblock. She didn’t want to be saved. Nope. She wanted to go to the circus. Well, that was something of a metaphor. She wanted to see and experience the sights and sounds of a relationship, to feast on the excitement, even if it meant running the risk of stepping in a big pile of elephant poo.

  She glanced over the menu again at him. He was still looking at her.

  “Is this place okay?” he asked. “We could find someplace that serves vegetarian food.”

  “This is fine.” She dropped her menu. “If our waitress shows up, order me a Boca Burger.” She stood and added, “Without onions.” The memory of Chase Roberts’s repellant breath lingered.

  “What are you doing?” He watched her shoulder her purse.

  “Going to the ladies’ room.”

  “Can I trust you to go there and back without getting into trouble?” Frowning, he touched her arm in the same spot where Chase Roberts had bruised it.

  “You want to loan me your gun, just in case?” She forced a smile when he rolled his eyes. “Or maybe you’d prefer to come with me.”

  He grinned. “I’m easy. I wouldn’t mind if you came first.”

  Comprehension struck, and she felt her cheeks redden. “Funny,” she said, and walked away.

  A short time later, back from the ladies’ room and sitting across from him, Macy was still trying to get the image of her and Jake, all sweaty and satisfied, out of her head. It wasn’t working.

  Their waitress set two plates on the table. “Two Boca Burgers with fries.” The sultry redhead shot Jake a flirtatious smile. “Need another soda?”

  He nodded. “Thanks.”

  Macy glanced at her empty tea glass. She obviously didn’t rate. A touch of jealousy stirred in her gut.

  Jake motioned to her glass. “And some more tea.”

  The waitress picked up both glasses and sauntered off.

  “Thank you,” Macy said. Then she glanced at Jake’s plate. “You ordered a Boca Burger?”

  He shrugged. “Yeah.”

  “You like Boca Burgers?”

  He eyed the plate warily. “Sure.”

  She instantly knew he’d ordered it because of her. Warmth swirled in her chest.

  She watched him douse the bun with ketchup, retop the burger, and take his first bite. He chewed. His eyes grew round. She bit her lip to keep from laughing.

  “How is it?”

  “Fine.” He continued chewing. The waitress appeared and dropped their drinks on the table. Jake grabbed his and drank half. Then he glanced at her. “What?”

  “Just admit you don’t like it.”

  “I didn’t say…” He looked at the burger, which he held in one hand. “It just…needs something.”

  “Like what?”

  He cut his gaze at her. “A pound of ground chuck.”

  She laughed.

  Jake let out a deep breath. “You are so damn beautiful, I can’t even stay mad at you.”

  She popped a fry into her mouth. He made her feel beautiful. He made her feel a lot of things. “Worth eating a Boca Burger for?”

  “I ordered it, didn’t I?”

  She squirted some ketchup onto her plate. “You could have ordered a real hamburger.”

  He picked up a fry and dipped it in her ketchup. “You won’t think less of me if I eat meat?”

  “No. I choose to do this, but I don’t judge others.” Their gazes met. She felt it again—the magical pull, the sizzle. And more. “Besides, I already like you too much.”

  His smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. “You do?”

  She leaned over and kissed him. It was just a simple kiss, but when she pulled back, she saw in his eyes that he thought it meant more. More, as in an invitation to it all. Which she wasn’t willing to give him yet. First, Aunt Flo’s curse had to fully depart. Then there was the issue of not being invited to his grandfather’s party. He had three days.

  She had three days. Three days before she committed herself. Three days to talk herself out of it—or to convince herself to go for it. The passion. The risk.

  The passion.

  He ran a slow hand down the side of her neck. “I like you too much, too.”

  His smile made her insides go mush. These were going to be three very long days.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  “Chocolate or strawberry?” Jake looked from his ice-cream selection to Macy. He felt more cold air blowing from her than from the freezer. He didn’t understand it, either. She’d kissed him and hadn’t pulled away when he’d kissed her back twice at red lights. He’d been so damn eager to get back to his place, so he could concentrate on kissing and not worry about the man in the black sedan behind them enjoying the show, but the moment he parked at his condo, she’d put her guard back up. A guard he was dead set on breaking through.

  “Chocolate.” She smiled nervously and stroked Elvis, who sat next to her on the sofa.
/>
  Jake pulled out the pint-size containers and grabbed two bowls. Shortly thereafter, he put on some soft rock and then settled on the sofa next to her. “What’s your favorite flavor?” he asked.

  “Rocky road. Yours?”

  “Depends on my mood. Sometimes nothing will do but chocolate. Then I have my strawberry phases.” He scooped a spoonful of pink ice cream from his own bowl and held it out. “Try it.”

  She did. As her beautiful lips closed around the utensil, erotic images flashed in his mind. He casually adjusted for the tightening in his pants.

  “And?”

  “It’s good. But it’s not chocolate.” Macy stared at her bowl. “So, your grandpa is really going to be a hundred?”

  “Yeah,” Jake said. Behind her bowl, he saw her nipples pressed tightly against her blouse. He couldn’t help staring. “Give me a taste of the chocolate.”

  She fed him a bite. He let the cool sweetness melt on his tongue.

  “You know, I think I’m in a chocolate mood,” he said. He put down his bowl, scooted closer, and eased his arm around her shoulders. Grinning, he used his spoon to steal a bite.

  “Hey!” She pulled her bowl closer to her chest.

  He scooped another spoonful and held it out. “I’ll share.” He watched her lips part and accept his offering.

  As soon as he drew the utensil back, he went in for the kill. He swirled his tongue around and found the cold chocolate in her mouth. Its dark sweet flavor had him delving deeper. Abandoning her bowl to her lap, she curled warm hands around his neck.

  Without ending the kiss, he took her bowl and set it on the coffee table. Then, sliding his arm down between her and the sofa, he pulled her onto his lap, turning her to straddle him. As the V of her legs came against the bulge in his jeans, he groaned. Their kiss went from hot to hotter, sweet to sweeter.

  Her hands slid from his neck to his chest as her tongue danced with his. He ran his hands down her back to her hips and tugged her closer to his aching erection. Her sweet pelvic push was all the encouragement he needed. Reaching under her shirt, he touched soft skin that his mouth watered to taste. Moving his hands to her back, he released her bra. Then, slipping his hands around to the front, he moved under the silk material and cupped her naked breasts. Her nipples puckered against his palms.