Don't Fight It: Hazard Falls Book 1

by Samantha A. Cole

  No one else in the crowd, including Paige, knew what was about to happen. Just in case, the disc had been wiped clean of fingerprints, and Jack had conveniently been away from his setup for about twenty minutes to run home and grab something he’d “forgotten.” Any number of people, who’d arrived early to get a good spot, could have swapped out the disc in his equipment after he’d left it out in the open. Small town residents tended to be too trusting at times. Tsk. Tsk.

  Shane reached around Paige and nudged Tuck, who looked in the direction his husband indicated with a tilt of his head. The guest of dishonor had arrived just in time to see the start of the show. Bridget and some rich-looking dude Tuck had never seen before were making their way toward her parents, who’d set up their usual, elaborate table and chairs in the center of the field. Yup, this was going to be good.

  From the looks of things, there were about 150 people in the audience from throughout the county. It would be a long time, if ever, before Bridget’s high-brow reputation recovered from tonight’s humiliation, but Tuck and Shane didn’t regret it one bit. Nobody fucked with their woman.

  At nine o’clock on the dot, the park lights dimmed, and the oversized screen came to life. Instead of The Princess Bride’s opening credits, the inside of the strip club appeared with pulsating music and catcalls filling the air. Tuck tried to look as confused as everyone else, but it was damned hard not to laugh out loud.

  The picture jumped around for a moment, then zoomed in on a blonde who’d already removed her top and was gyrating against a stripper pole in only her bra and miniskirt. Murmurs began to spread throughout the crowd until some guy shouted, “Holy shit! That’s Bridget Kline!”

  Laughter and whistles were a plenty, but they didn’t cover the shriek of humiliated outrage that came from Bridget. “Turn that off! Jack! Oh, my God! Turn it off!”

  The stunned mayor somehow got to his feet and rushed over to where Jack was cackling his ass off while the video continued to play. Richard Kline yelled at the man to shut it off, but Jack was bent at the waist, trying to breathe. The scene had shifted, and Bridget could be seen grinding against some guy in a drunken lap dance, while her skirt was up over her hips, showing off her black thong underwear.

  The crowd roared. And in the middle of it, a red-faced Bridget scanned the area until she spotted Tuck, Paige, and Shane. At least now, Tuck didn’t need to hold in his laughter. In fact, his sides hurt and tears were rolling down his cheeks. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d howled that hard. Again, there were no regrets.

  Bridget stormed toward them. Her hands were clenched, and her lips were curled back in a snarl. “You bastards! I know you did this!”

  Shane jumped to his feet, but Tuck was a little slower since he was holding his sides and rolling around on the picnic blanket. He couldn’t look at Bridget because it just made him laugh harder, but he did manage to get himself between her and Paige who was also gasping for air. Beside them, Nicole, Hank, Lila, and Gavin were not faring any better.

  “You fucking bastards! How dare you!” She poked a shaking finger in Paige’s direction. “That cunt put you up to it, didn’t she?”

  That stopped both men cold. Shane took a threatening step forward and growled before dropping his voice several octaves. “You refer to Paige one more time using anything else but her name or a pronoun, tonight will look like a Sunday-school lesson. She had nothing to do with this. Clearly you pissed off someone else. I don’t know where that porn video of you came from . . .” Technically that was the truth. “. . . but I’d like to shake the hand of whoever found it. Looks like your elite status dropped a few pegs and you’re down here with the rest of us human peons. Now, you might want to go help your mother since it looks like she fainted, and, by the way, your date is heading for his car.”

  Bridget spun around, then with a backward glare, she ran after her date. Nice to know where her priorities lay.

  The mayor had finally gotten Jack to turn off the video. An off-duty EMT was helping Alice Kline who hadn’t fainted but probably wished she had. Richard hurried back to his wife as the correct movie began to play. The crowd was still chuckling and talking, but they began to settle down to watch the scheduled show.

  A hand on Tuck’s arm had him turning around. As she eyed both Tuck and Shane, who was standing next to him, Paige’s face was filled with mirth. “Thank you.”

  “For what, sweetheart?” Shane managed to ask with a straight face.

  “You did this, didn’t you?”

  “Nope.”

  Tuck shook his head and glanced at his husband before looking back at Paige. “We have no idea what you’re talking about, darlin’.”

  Her eyes narrowed—clearly she didn’t believe them. “Uh-huh.” After a moment of them not confessing, she placed one hand on Tuck’s chest and the other on Shane’s, as a saucy grin appeared on her pretty face. “Well, then, if you happen to find out who did do it, tell them I owe them one. You know, in case they ever want to collect.”

  She went up on her tiptoes and kissed Tuck then Shane on the lips with a little swipe of her tongue. Suddenly, all Tuck wanted to do was take her and his husband home and spend the rest of the night completely naked in bed with them.

  After double-checking the first graders all had their seatbelts on, Paige sat next to Nicole in the front row behind the driver of the school bus. Across the aisle was the students’ teacher, Melanie Dwyer, who was about twenty years older than the two other women. Her salt-and-pepper hair was styled in a short pixie cut, and she was super sweet. Her students clearly loved her.

  Their driver, Clem, who just happened to be Melanie’s husband, shut the hinged door before putting the yellow vehicle in drive and pulling away from the curb in front of the school. The fifteen first-grade students, with Joey, Arianna, and Brooke among them, were cheerfully chatting away, excited about the field trip, which was getting them out of the classroom for most of the day. Paige remembered how that felt—it was the best feeling in the world for kids that age, aside from the last day of school and Christmas.

  “So, have Shane and Tucker confessed to the video yet?” Nicole asked, keeping her voice low to not be overheard by the multiple ears around them.

  Paige shrugged. “Nope. Tight-lipped bastards that they are. But I will say their eyes sparkle every time I ask about it.” She’d been trying to get them to admit it for the past two weeks, but she couldn’t get a straight answer out of them.

  “All Jack will say is he had the correct CD in the player before he ran back to his house.”

  “Which, put that way, could mean the correct CD was The Princess Bride or the amateur porn video. And women think they’re the sneakier sex when it comes to revenge.”

  Nicole snorted. “True that.”

  They’d been on the road not even ten minutes, when Arianna called Paige’s name from a few seats back on the other side of the aisle. She glanced over her shoulder and answered some questions she and Joey had. The bus rounded a curve on the two-lane backroad they were on. It was the fastest route to the Native American Village where the kids would learn what it was like in Kansas before white men came and took over.

  Paige felt the bus begin to slow.

  “Uh-oh,” Clem said. “Looks like someone drove into the ditch. Better stop and make sure they’re okay.”

  Leaning to the right, Paige looked out the windshield and saw a beat-up Cadillac partially blocking their lane. The right front tire was off the road and the vehicle was tilted a bit as the tire had started to go into the ditch. No one was in sight, and she couldn’t see through the Cadi’s dirty windows with the sun glare.

  The bus came to a stop and Nicole stood with Clem. “I’ll go with you. Hopefully they’re not hurt and just need a tow truck.

  Clem opened the door and stepped down. Nicole was right behind him, but before she got out, she froze on the bottom step. Paige looked at her friend in confusion, but then Melanie’s gasp and “Oh, my Lord,” caught her attent
ion. Paige turned her head and what she saw had the blood draining from her face.

  Nicole backed up the stairs slowly and into the aisle, her eyes wide in terror and her hands up in the air. Following Clem back into the bus were two men pointing big, black, ugly handguns at him and Nicole. Paige had never seen the first guy before—he was about eighteen or nineteen, with dark, greasy hair, and wearing a nose ring and brow stud. But the other one, Paige recognized right away—Brenna Kline’s scuzzy boyfriend, whatever his name was. Both punks were dressed in black shirts, jeans, and construction boots. What scared Paige the most, beside the guns, was the fact neither were hiding their faces. That never boded well for witnesses in movies and TV shows.

  The greasy-haired guy shoved Clem into the driver’s seat, while Ty—somehow his name popped into Paige’s head—pointed his gun at Nicole. Her hands started to shake. “I don’t know what—”

  “Sit down and shut up!” When she hesitated, he barked, “Move! Now!”

  Nicole had moved back enough in the aisle that she ended up taking the seat behind Paige.

  The door to the bus slammed shut and Clem was ordered to follow the Cadi, which was back on the road heading in the direction of the Native American Village, but Paige doubted that was their destination now. Behind her, the children were eerily quiet, and she glanced back. Their eyes were wide with fear and a few had tears rolling down their cheeks. Arianna’s petrified gaze met hers, and Paige tried to smile and mouthed the words, “It’s going to be okay.”

  The bus jerked forward, and Paige had to throw her hand out in front of her, against the back of the driver’s seat, for support. She’d taken her seatbelt off when the bus had initially stopped and, for now, she left it that way. If she had to react quickly, she wouldn’t be able to do it with the restraint. Across the aisle, Melanie was pale, and her hands trembled, but from her expression, Paige knew the woman would do anything to protect her students. The four adults in charge would have to wait to find out what was going on and how they were all going to get themselves and the children out of it.

  “Where are we going? What do you want?” Nicole asked, fear and loathing combined in her tone.

  “Shut! Up!” Ty growled. “You’ll know soon enough.”

  God, Paige hoped she’d told Ari the truth when she’d said everything would be okay. Tucker and Shane would both shatter if they lost their little girl. The whole town would be devastated if anything happened to any of the children. Paige didn’t know why, but suddenly she found herself praying—not to God, but to Sarah. Please don’t let them take her from Shane and Tucker. She needs to stay here with them because you couldn’t. Watch over her, and while you’re at it, please watch over the rest of us too.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Lane Myers grinned. His day had just been made. Every shift he worked, and many of the days he was off duty, he found a way to get an eyeful of Betty Lou. Not that she was happy about it. He smiled. She frowned. And he got a big kick out of it. One of these days the stubborn woman was going to admit she wanted Lane as much as he wanted her. He’d always had. If things hadn’t blown up between them at the end of his senior year of high school, they probably would’ve been married with a few teenage kids by now. He’d never stopped loving her, and he was certain, if he finally managed to knock the chip off her shoulder, she’d realize they still belonged together, even after all these years.

  He leaned against his department-issued SUV and crossed his arms, waiting for Lou to come back out of the bank. He’d parked right next to her pickup truck and she’d have to walk right up to him to get in. Her only other option was to get in the passenger side and slide over, but he knew she’d never do that. That would make her appear weak and Lou was anything but. She ran Bar None with an iron fist. She took no shit from her customers or employees, and, damn, if most of them didn’t love her for it. On more than one occasion, she’d threatened to bash a cowboy’s head in for starting trouble in her place. Ninety-nine percent of the time, they backed down, especially when the regulars started laying down bets on how many bones she’d break if she started swinging.

  The door to the bank swung open and out strode Lou, looking incredibly delicious. Faded jeans molded to her curves, while a blue tank top showed off her tanned shoulders and hugged her breasts. Those puppies had filled out more since the last time he’d had his mouth and hands on them, and his palms itched to get at them again.

  She’d been almost to the tailgate of her truck when she spotted him and slowed her stride. That pissed-off glare she’d perfected when it came to him appeared on her face. Her hazel eyes flared in annoyance.

  “Morning, doll-face. Beautiful day isn’t it?”

  Her jaw tightened. “It was until a few seconds ago.”

  She reached for the door handle, but Lane stepped in front of her, preventing her from opening the door. She growled. “Get out of my way, Lane.” When he didn’t move, she rolled her eyes. “What do you want?”

  “Just thought you might want to thank me.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “For what?” she spat.

  He shrugged. “For taking out the trash last night.” It’d been one of the few times a ruckus had gotten a little out of control at the bar. A drunk had hit on another drunk’s woman and shit had gone downhill very quickly. Lane had been heading home from his father’s house when he’d spotted the brawl in Bar None’s parking lot. He’d called it in on his radio as he’d pulled in, then hopped out of his vehicle. With his military training, it hadn’t taken him long to incapacitate both men—the fact that they were extremely intoxicated and exhausted from beating on each other had helped just a tad.

  “I didn’t need or ask for your help. Now get out of my way or I’m going to tell the chief you’re harassing me again.”

  Lane smirked. “Didn’t do you any good the last time you complained to him.” Graham Hughes was a wise man and knew when to placate the residents of Hazard Falls and when something really needed his attention. After all, he’d been Chief of Police for over fifteen years.

  “Move, jackass,” she huffed. “I’ve got things to do. Go write a ticket or something, will ya?”

  He was about to respond with a snarky remark when his cell phone rang. With his father’s health declining, he never hesitated to check the screen in case it was an emergency. He pulled the phone off his hip and saw the call was coming from the station. His brow furrowed. Why were they calling him on his cell instead of the radio, which always had better reception in some parts of the town?

  Stepping away from Lou’s vehicle, he answered the call, disappointed when she took advantage and hopped into the driver’s seat and started the engine.

  “Myers.”

  “Lane, are you nearby?”

  Caitlyn Wells’s voice sounded a bit frantic, and Lane was instantly on alert, ignoring Lou’s truck pulling out of the parking spot and driving away. “Yeah, I’m by the Stop & Go, what’s wrong?”

  “Need you back at the station as fast as you can get here and stay off the radio. No lights or sirens, but hurry.”

  Shit. Whatever’s up can’t be good.

  Minutes later, he was striding into the police station with another officer, Tad Winslow on his heels. Apparently, he’d also gotten the SOS. Chief Hughes was standing behind Caitlyn at the call desk, frowning. He waved Lane and Tad over. The dispatcher’s face was pale, and she was wringing her hands together.

  “What’s wrong?” Lane asked as he and Tad joined the other two.

  Hughes gestured toward the computer setup that was part of the county’s 911 system. During the day, one of two department dispatchers answered the phones and assigned calls to the on-duty officers. At 4:00 p.m., the county dispatchers took over until 8:00 a.m. the following day. “A call came in on the non-emergency line that you have to hear. Play it again, Caitlyn.”

  The three men and one woman were quiet as a recording of the phone call played back.

  Caitlyn’s cheerful voice was the first they hea
rd. “Hazard Falls Police Department, how can I help you?”

  “Caitlyn, it’s Nicole Mathers.” The hair on the back of Lane’s neck stood up at the quiver in the woman’s voice. The call sounded like she’d made it through a speakerphone feature. “I need you to listen very carefully. I’m on a school bus with Clem and Melanie Dwyer, Paige Merritt, and fifteen first-graders. The bus has been hijacked, and we’re being held for ransom. At the moment, we’re all okay.” A gasp came over the speakers, and Lane assumed it had been from Caitlyn reacting to the information, but the dispatcher had wisely not interrupted. “There’s three of them . . .”

  There was the sound of a scuffle, then a male mumbling something unintelligible.

  “Ow! All right already!” Nicole snapped.

  “Nicole! Are you okay? What’s happening?”

  There was a pause before the other woman came back on the line. “Yeah, Caitlyn, I’m okay. I’m just supposed to tell you what they told me and nothing more. They have guns and want two-hundred thousand dollars in unmarked bills or they’ll . . . they’ll kill us all. They have a police radio, so they’ll know if you call in the sheriff’s department to help. I’ll call back in an hour and tell you where they want the money delivered.”

  “Nicole, how—”

  The call had been cut off before Caitlyn could finish her question. Shutting off the recording, she looked up at the three stunned lawmen.

  Winslow spoke first. “What the hell do we do?”

  Running a hand down his face, Hughes shook his head once, then started barking out orders. “Caitlyn, get on the phone to the school principal and find out exactly who is on that bus and where they were headed. Lane, call the sheriff’s department—we’re going to need backup. Tell them we need complete radio silence and have anyone who can, respond here. After that, call Shane, Tucker, and Hank—tell them to get over here—we may need their help. We’ll need to let the rest of the parents know their kids are in danger—shit, those are phone calls I’m not looking forward to. Tad, call Willard Knutt over at the bank and tell him to get his pathetic ass over here and to keep his mouth shut. I’ll call the fucking mayor. If we have to come up with some money as a way to trap these assholes, Knutt’s not going to do it without Kline’s okay.”