Her Ranger Rescuers

by M J Adams

  Without glancing around, he picked the lock and entered the house. A chill filled him at being in this space where Cora had been abused.

  Rich clearly wasn’t here and hadn’t been for some time, if the mold on the bread in the top drawer was any indication. Isaac sniffed the milk in the fridge and made a face as the sourness hit his nose.

  He quickly replaced it, wiped the container down, and got out of the house. Back in the safety of the SUV, he quickly sent a text to Jonas to say Rich wasn’t there.

  Find out when he left.

  Isaac glanced up and out of the windshield, deciding to get away from the house in case someone was watching it. Or in case Rich came back. “Got any credit card numbers to run?” he dictated into his phone as he pulled onto the quiet street in the posh neighborhood.

  But if Jonas had credit card numbers, they’d already know when Rich had left. What airport. His destination. All of it.

  Nope, Jonas said, and Isaac wanted to spit nails. He knew how to do this part of the job. He just didn’t want to. Max tracked down leads. He figured things out like this. Isaac worked with dogs and studied body mass and put together training regimens for their charges. He empowered them physically. He didn’t track down abusive husbands.

  Until today.

  An hour later, he stood in the office of the lead detective on Cora’s case, showing him all of the texts he’d mirrored from Rich’s phone. The man was seriously going to regret going against Isaac’s advice.

  “And I need to know where he is,” Isaac said. “Now. Our victim is in danger, and this man needs to be found before he kills her.” The very thought had prickles running down his arms.

  Detective Guthry gestured for someone else to come in. “We need everything on Richard Middleton.”

  “I’ll pull the logs,” he said.

  “How long?” Isaac asked, wondering if he dared called Max. He should’ve been in Silver Lake until Cora went to Austin and got on the plane. Why wasn’t he there when Rich showed up? Could Cora have been mistaken?

  “We want this on the news,” Isaac said.

  “Which part?” Detective Guthry was a tall man, with a huge presence that probably intimidated everyone. Not Isaac, though.

  “All of it,” Isaac said, watching the detective. “And we’ll know what’s true and what’s not, and my boss doesn’t care about calling out dirty cops.”

  “We’re not dirty,” Detective Guthry said.

  “I don’t think you are either,” Isaac said, pocketing his phone as if he didn’t care one way or the other. “But we want this in the news—tonight. Call a press conference. Get it out to the biggest network. Whatever. We need to locate Richard Middleton immediately.”

  “Jim,” the other man said entering the office. “We’ve got phone records here.” He handed a folder to the detective. “We’re pulling his financial records now.”

  “He’s our main priority until he’s found,” Detective Guthry said. “Can you grab the Chief? We need to talk to him too.”

  “What’s going on?” the other man asked.

  Jim opened the folder and looked at the first page. “Texas,” he said, handing the paper to Isaac. “I lived there for three years before moving here. That’s a Texas area code on the first number.”

  “So he’s calling someone in Texas,” Isaac said, looking at the list, his blood running like river rapids through his veins. “Doesn’t mean that’s where he is.” He glanced at the detective and then his partner. “Call this number.” He recited the last number Rich had called, and the detective put it on speaker.

  “Hill Country Hitchhiker,” the woman chirped, her voice filling the office—and Isaac’s heart with dread. Both men looked at him, and he put aside his personal feelings.

  “Yes, what cities do you serve?” he asked.

  She started listing them, and Isaac pressed his eyes closed when she said Silver Lake. “Thank you,” he said. “Is there a way to know if you’ve given a ride to someone? This is Captain Isaac Ramsey with the Army Ranger Task Force. We’re trying to locate a man by the name of Richard Middleton. Do your drivers get names?”

  “Yes, sir,” she drawled. “Just a moment.”

  Isaac felt like she took twenty moments, finally saying, “Richard Middleton hired one of our drivers for an extended period of time.”

  “What does that mean?” he asked.

  “It means Luis has been driving him around for the past four days.”

  Four days. Rich was in Silver Lake before Cora had even gotten there. Unbelievable. Isaac felt sick that he’d left her there to be found by that monster.

  “Do you track where they go?” he asked, his voice much less powerful now. He hated how the other two watched him, a mixture of fierce determination and sorrow on their faces.

  “Not usually,” she said. “But I can call Luis.”

  “We definitely need to talk to him,” Isaac said. “As soon as possible.” He would not let this ruffle him. Cora wasn’t in Silver Lake anymore, and it seemed like Rich was. “Is Luis still driving him around?”

  “According to this, yes, sir.”

  “Can I speak to him on the job?”

  “I’ll give you his number.” She rattled it off, and Detective Guthry wrote it down.

  “Thank you,” Isaac said, feeling like he was a little bit closer to Cora, though he still didn’t know where she was. The Chief of Police slipped into the office as the call ended, and Isaac felt a headache pounding behind his eyes.

  He did not want to explain everything again, but he would. Over and over again. Because he’d do anything to get back to Cora, make sure she was safe, and then escape with her.

  His phone buzzed, and he couldn’t ignore it despite the Chief glaring at him and barking, “What’s going on?”

  The woman on the phone said, “Are you really an Army Ranger?” and Isaac didn’t know where to put his attention.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said. “Thank you for everything. I need to go.” His phone buzzed again, longer this time, which meant an incoming call.

  He glanced at the number as the other detective hung up the call with the driving service in Hill Country. There was no name on the screen, but Isaac had memorized that number.

  “Excuse me,” he said. “I need to take this. I’ll be right back.” He pushed past the Police Chief and answered with, “Max?” as he stepped into the outer area of the police station.

  “Cora’s in the temporary housing facility in Seattle,” he said. “How soon can you get there?”

  Isaac had no idea. “By tonight,” he said anyway. He didn’t care what the Grand Master said. He wasn’t going back to Parkwood. “Where are you?”

  “Texas,” he said. “Lucinda can’t get in touch with Luke. He’s ditched his phone and he’s off-grid.”

  “Great.” Isaac closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. “Everything’s going wrong.”

  “If you can get to Cora first, they’ll release her to your care. Say you’re there on orders to take her back to Parkwood.”

  “And go to Wisconsin?” he asked in a whisper.

  “I’ll get there,” Max said.

  “How? Are you going back to Parkwood?” Isaac knew he shouldn’t ask Max more than one question at a time, but he’d done it.

  “Yes,” he said. “One of us needs to.”

  “Rich is in Silver Lake.”

  “I’m sure Lucinda will have me bring him in.” Max sighed, the sound full of frustration.

  “You may not get out,” Isaac said. “I’ll do it. You get to Seattle, and I’ll go to Texas. I’m already tracking Rich.”

  “No,” Max said. “This is a Code Ottowa, Ranger.”

  “Max,” Isaac said.

  “Code Ottowa,” he said again just before the line went dead.

  Isaac let his hand fall back to his side, the code running through him. Code Ottowa was something he and his Ranger Team had stuck to. It meant Abandon the plan. Get out.

  Max had just
ordered him to get Cora, and get out. Get to safety. Get to Wisconsin.

  He stepped back into the office. “I’m sorry, gentlemen,” he said to the officers there. “I have to go.”

  “Go?” the Police Chief asked. “Aren’t we looking for your guy?”

  “My team is on it,” Isaac said. “We’ll be more than happy to let your office take point—and credit—on this guy.” He looked around at all three of them. “I have a lead on our victim, and I really need to go.” He had to get to Seattle, and now.

  Detective Guthry nodded, and Isaac ducked out of the room. He had a ticket on the next flight to Seattle, and he would be there by evening.

  Now, if Cora could just hang on that long…and if Lucinda could be stalled so she didn’t know about the Ottowa move Isaac was about to pull, the four of them might still have a shot at their future.

  “Cora,” he said hours later, and she looked up from the notebook on her lap.

  “Isaac.” She exploded to her feet and rushed him. He moved his head slightly to the left and right, and she slowed, her eyes anxious.

  He allowed himself to draw her into a hug, but it was casual, what he’d do for any charge in a stressful situation. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes,” she whispered against his earlobe. “How did you get here?”

  “I need you to play along,” he said before stepping back. He looked at an agent named Carlisle, and two beefy guards that had as many brains as they did muscles.

  “All right, boys,” he said. “I’ll take the charge from here.”

  Chapter 23

  Cora

  Play along, Cora told herself, but she didn’t know the rules. Didn’t know what game Isaac was playing. Didn’t know where to look. Her eyes finally landed on Carlisle, as he clearly informed the other two of their jobs.

  “We need to see discharge paperwork,” Carlisle said, his eyes narrowing at Isaac.

  “Lucinda will send that over,” he said.

  Cora wanted to step to his side, thread her fingers through his. She curled her hand into a fist instead.

  Isaac started to move forward, but the two huge guards who’d brought her to this facility stepped in front of him. “We can’t let you leave without it,” one of them said.

  “It’s coming,” Isaac insisted. “And I need to get her back underground as soon as possible.”

  Cora felt like she was battling two, terrifying beasts. Rich spearheaded the fight on one side, and everyone who worked for Parkwood Academy challenged her on the other. She was grateful for their help, but now she just wanted to live her life the way she wanted to.

  “Call her,” Carlisle said, and Isaac made a big show of pulling out his phone.

  He stepped in front of Cora and handed her a credit card as he said, “She’s going to be angry. She has a lot going on with this case. The guy’s down in Texas still, and it looks like we’ll be involving the local police in two states now. She doesn’t care about this discharge paperwork right now.”

  He turned and tapped on his phone. “But all right.”

  Carlisle stared at him, pure malice running through his expression. The phone rang in the silence, and he finally said, “Hang up.”

  Isaac did, moving forward again. “Let me get her out of here, and I’ll come back when the paperwork goes through.”

  Cora had no idea if what he was saying was true or not. She didn’t want to be separated from him, but he’d just given her a credit card. She had a feeling she’d be getting herself to Richland Center.

  “Isaac,” she whispered.

  “Go to Canada,” he said out of the corner of his mouth. “Wait a while. Then get to Luke.” He went through the door and looked right and left, as if he shouldn’t be in this facility. In that moment, she realized there would be no discharge paperwork.

  “Where’s Rich?” she asked, moving right with him.

  “Texas,” he said. “We’re dealing with him, Cora. You’re fine.” He marched down the hall, and Cora had a feeling she’d be fleeing for her life once again, no change of clothes. At least she wasn’t wearing yoga pants and a tank top this time.

  “Cora Middleton to be released,” he said to the woman at the desk, the exit only a few yards away.

  She started the process, and Isaac kept his focus on his phone. Cora wasn’t sure how much of that was an act, and how much wasn’t. When the woman got up to get her purse from the storage locker, Cora whispered, “You’re not coming, are you?”

  “No,” he said simply.

  “Look at me,” she said.

  Isaac lifted his gaze to hers, and she saw so much storming there.

  “I love you,” she whispered. “Hurry to Wisconsin, okay?”

  The woman returned, and Cora shouldered her purse, ready to take control of her future. Isaac walked out with her and paused. “You’re going to get in this car,” he said. “And you’ll need to figure out how to get out. Okay?”

  Their eyes met, and she was sure hers held nothing but fear. Isaac gave her a soft smile. “You’re strong. You’re capable. Get to Luke.”

  And with that he opened the door, and she slid into the backseat. He shut the door and tapped on the hood of the car a couple of times before it eased away from the building. Cora would not allow herself to look behind her at Isaac.

  He was smart. Resourceful. And he could get to Richland Center on his own. She kept her eyes on the driver behind the wheel, thinking she’d need to find a way to give him the slip and then get a cab to the airport.

  Canada. She could get to Canada.

  The driver wore an earpiece, and Cora watched him carefully as they left the secure facility and entered a more populated area of the city. He tilted his head, and Cora said, “I need to use the bathroom, please.”

  She had no phone, and no way to call for another ride. No way to book an airplane ticket. The debit card in her pocket felt like a brick, and her mind spun with ideas. She couldn’t seem to land on one, and everything felt hopeless.

  “You can go when we get to the airport,” he said.

  “How long?” she asked.

  “Ten minutes.”

  She wondered if Isaac could keep everyone off of her trail that long. “Fine.” She crossed her legs, glared at him, and focused out the window.

  “Where’s your agent?” the man asked as he pulled up to the curb.

  “Right there,” Cora said, pointing to a man in a dark suit. She grabbed the door handle and jumped out of the car.

  “Miss,” her driver called after her, but she slammed the door and walked over to the stranger.

  She was aware of the driver emerging from the car, and she slipped her hand through the stranger’s elbow. “Hey,” she said. “If you pretend we’re together, I’ll buy your dinner. Coffee. Drinks. Whatever.” She smiled at him in a friendly way.

  He just looked at her, and they moved into the terminal together. Once inside, she made a break for the restrooms, dashing inside the nearest one and locking herself in a stall. How long until that driver came in? Would he immediately look in the bathroom?

  “Probably,” she muttered to herself. She left the stall and went to the door, heading out into the terminal like she completely belonged there. She bypassed several airline ticket counters and went to one with a short line down on the other end from where she’d been dropped off.

  “Fastest way to Canada,” she said.

  Nothing about the ticket agent was fast, and she felt like she was at the driver’s license division as she passed over her paperwork, her passport, everything. Carlisle and his band of cronies knew her false name.

  Doesn’t matter, she told herself over and over. She’d get to Victoria and then she’d disappear.

  She felt a bit bad for promising that man dinner or a drink and then running from him. But she made it through security and onto the plane without incident. When the plane touched down in Canada, Cora felt no relief.

  Surely Carlisle knew the paperwork hadn’t gone through for her dis
charge by now. Isaac would be in trouble. Worry gnawed at her, and she waited until almost everyone was off the plane before she stood.

  She exited to relative quiet, and no one was waiting to arrest her this time.

  After hailing a cab, she asked for a reasonably priced hotel and barricaded herself behind a locked door.

  She wanted to stay there for a long time, but she knew she needed to keep moving. That was a lesson Max had drilled into her. Keep moving. Head down. Never stay somewhere too nice. Or somewhere too seedy.

  So the next morning, she moved. She rented a car and drove it for as long as she could, ending up in Banff, Alberta after twelve long hours behind the wheel. She returned the car, found a hotel in the very touristy town, and slept as long as she could.

  She left the next morning on another plane, this one from the Calgary airport. The flight was going to Halifax, and that was just fine with her. She didn’t see anyone suspicious on the plane. No one tried to talk to her. No one was waiting when the plane finally touched down.

  Cora stayed in Nova Scotia for three days, and then she slowly started making her way west again.

  By the time her headlights cut through the darkness and landed on the house with a light glowing from somewhere within, she’d been traveling for nine days. She’d been in Detroit, Toronto, Minneapolis, and every town in between.

  Her heart hadn’t beaten regularly since she’d seen Rich striding across her lawn in Texas, and that felt like it had happened eons ago.

  She turned off the car and got out, the headlights staying on and giving her the light she needed to walk toward the front steps. Then they turned off, plunging her into darkness. A chill ran down her arms as she knocked lightly on the door.

  It took forever for it to open, but she didn’t dare knock again.

  The door swung open to reveal a man standing in the shadows. “Cora?” Luke asked, and she hurried to step inside.