by LENA DIAZ,
“Colby!” Her toes curled against the sheets as he drove into her over and over, his mouth hot against hers, his tongue making love to her mouth while his body made love to hers.
Just when she thought she’d die of pleasure, he thrust one last time and shouted her name, his entire body going taut. She climaxed all over again, and together they both floated down, down, down from the dizzying heights where they’d soared.
As his body went slack against hers, and his breathing deepened, he fell to his side, taking her with him, curling his body with hers in a protective embrace. She had never felt so cherished, so loved. And a long time later, when the afterglow finally faded away, she held him tight in her arms.
And wondered how she would ever let him go.
* * *
COLBY SAT STRAIGHT up in bed. Something had awakened him. But what? Then he heard it. The buzzing sound of his cell phone vibrating in his pants pocket. Only, his pants were on the floor somewhere in Piper’s pitch-dark bedroom. His own bedroom had so many LCD lights from the TV, video game consoles and DVR that it was lit up like a Fourth of July celebration.
He gently extricated himself from her deliciously warm, silky limbs and slid out of bed. A few seconds later he finally found his pants and grabbed the phone.
“Colby?” her sleepy voice called out behind him. “What’s wrong?”
“Shh, go back to sleep.” He glanced at the text message on the screen.
“Colby?”
“It’s just Dillon, sweetheart. He was a little too enthusiastic about sharing progress notes on the case and didn’t realize how late it is. Go back to sleep.”
He grabbed his pants and hurried out of her bedroom, tugging them on as he made his way down the hall to the main room where her TV and electronics cast enough light that he could finally see. He plopped down on the couch and had just dialed Dillon’s number when the overhead light flipped on. He blinked as his eyes adjusted.
Piper stood by the light switch in a Hello Kitty nightshirt, her arms crossed. He couldn’t help but grin.
“Colby,” Dillon said through the phone. “It’s about time you returned my call. We—”
“Hold on.” Colby tilted the phone away from his mouth. “I didn’t mean to disturb you, Piper. I’ll just go outside and talk to Dillon real quick.” He stood and stepped toward the front door.
She moved to block his way. “No. You won’t. My whole future is wrapped up in your investigation. I deserve to know what’s going on.”
“Colby?” Dillon’s voice sounded from the phone, sounding impatient.
He hesitated, then sat back down on the couch. “You’re right. I’ll put him on speaker.”
She blinked in surprise, then hurried over to sit beside him. “Thank you.”
He set the phone between them. “Go ahead, Dillon. You’re on speaker and Piper’s here with me.”
There was a pause, then, “Hello, Miss Caraway. Sorry to have disturbed you. Colby, you got my text?”
“I did. Why don’t you repeat what it said, though.”
“Okay. We were burning the midnight oil at the station and caught a few breaks in the case. We didn’t get any good prints off the truck or trailer. All of them matched the kid that Jedidiah paid to drive the horses to the sheriff’s office, which means Palmer or Jedidiah or both were smart enough to wipe everything down. So that slowed us down. But since we knew Jedidiah’s real name, we were finally able to figure out where he recently did time. It was the Potosi Correctional Center, a maximum-security prison in Washington County, Missouri.”
“Missouri?” Piper said. “That’s a long way from Lexington.”
“Six to seven hours, give or take,” Dillon said. “Jedidiah got out of prison a few months ago, which corroborates what Arlene Garza said about seeing Jedidiah in Lexington around that time. Assuming he met Palmer in prison, we followed up on all known associates and got a hit. Todd Palmer, the fake one, is actually Shane Crowder. All we know so far about Shane is that he was in prison for robbing an armored truck.”
“That’s supposed to be impossible,” Colby said.
“Yeah, well, long story but he and his buddies beat the odds. They got away with, you ready for this? Five million dollars.”
Piper blinked in shock.
“How much time did he serve?” Colby asked.
“Not enough. The two armored-truck guards were murdered. Normally that would put the guys away for life, pretty much. But here’s the kicker. The case was bungled from the start, all kinds of stupid mistakes. Which made it nearly impossible to prosecute these guys. And the money was never found.”
“Never? As in, even now they don’t know where it is?” Colby asked.
“Right. So our boy Shane makes a deal. He’ll squeal on the other two so they can get nice, healthy long sentences, and he’ll tell the feds where the money is hidden. In return, he serves no more than five years. The feds negotiate it to eight and make the deal. The trials move forward, Shane’s two coconspirators are convicted of murder and they go to prison for life without parole. Shane gets his eight years in a separate facility from the guys he squealed on. Shane draws a map. The feds go into the wilderness and sure enough they find a buried safe right where he said they would.” He hesitated. “You two still there?”
Colby said, “We’re here.”
“Okay. So another condition of the deal was that Shane’s lawyer had the feds record the whole recovery so he could make sure they stuck to the agreement. If you watch the video, you can see them open the safe and you see a pile of money...and then, bam, a little explosion goes off and incinerates everything inside before the feds can even pull out one single bill.”
Colby looked at Piper and could see his own amazement mirrored in her eyes. “So then what? Shouldn’t Shane have gotten a life sentence at that point? And he should have been charged with setting up that decoy.”
“Nope. None of that. True, Shane was a known explosives guy—from brief stints with construction companies and mining companies. But of course he claimed the other guys had set the trap and he didn’t know that they’d done it. And his lawyer argued that Shane had stuck to the agreement, which his lawyer also pointed out was only to tell the feds where the money was. He never agreed that they had to actually recover the money. They were forced to keep their word. So even though the armored-truck company is out five million, or their insurance company is, and two men are dead, Shane gets his eight years. He was released right around the same time that Jedidiah was.”
They were all quiet for a few moments, then Colby said, “I don’t buy it. Shane wouldn’t incinerate millions of dollars. He planted that safe as a decoy before he even robbed the armored truck, in case things went wrong. The money in that safe was probably fake, or he had real bills on top and everything under it was copier paper or something. He’s got that five million dollars hidden somewhere. And if I think that, the feds have to think that, too. So why aren’t they tailing him to see if he leads them to it?”
“What makes you think they aren’t?”
“If they are, and they let him steal Gladiator and kidnap Piper and me, they’re going to live to regret it.”
Dillon laughed. “I’m with you on that. Of course they tailed our little explosives expert when he left prison. Which is why he needed Jedidiah to help him set up part of his next plan, at least until he shook his tail. Once he did, he disappeared.”
Piper frowned. “While I think it’s great that you’ve figured out all of this, I’m not seeing where I come into play. I haven’t robbed any banks. I’ve never met either of these guys until the past few days. Why are they picking on me?”
“Your land,” Colby and Dillon both said at the same time.
“My land?” Her face went pale. “Wait. You think Palmer, I mean Shane, buried the five million dollars on my ranch somewhere?”
“Yes,” they both said.
“All the pieces fit,” Colby told her. “Shane and Jedidiah were friends in prison. Friends talk. Shane knew the feds would follow him once he got out so he needed someone else to help him clear the way for him to dig up his money while he led them far away from where the money was hidden. As soon as the way was clear, he and Shane would dig up the goods, split the loot if they didn’t kill each other first and disappear. But there’s only one problem.”
Piper crossed her arms over her chest. “Me. My ranch. And all the people I employ. He needs us gone so there won’t be anyone to see him or stop him from retrieving the money.”
“Exactly,” Colby said. “All those accidents hurt your business so much that it doesn’t even seem profitable on paper. My guess is that Shane wanted you to give up and shut the business down rather than try to sell it, which wouldn’t have helped him. But he underestimated what a fighter you are. So he decided to steal Gladiator to lure you away so he could kill you up in the mountains. Probably because he didn’t want this place to be a crime scene and have cops crawling all over it. Making you disappear worked better for his purposes. I imagine he would have given an anonymous tip after his thugs killed us, so the police would know you were dead. Then the ranch would be closed down and empty and he could do what he needed to do.”
“But...” Piper’s brow wrinkled with concentration. “Jedidiah didn’t kill us in the mountains, and he returned the horses. So are they working together or not?”
“I think they had a falling-out,” Colby said.
“I agree,” Dillon said from the phone. “But that doesn’t mean the enemy of my enemy is my friend in this case. I don’t trust either of them.”
“Me either.” Colby automatically checked the pistol in his pants pocket, then wished he hadn’t because Piper’s gaze followed the motion.
She rubbed her hands up and down her arms. “What does all of this mean? You wouldn’t have called at two in the morning unless you thought we were in danger, right? No one else is on the ranch this time of night besides Ken Taylor and me. And now Colby. You think Jedidiah or Palmer or both are coming here?”
Colby shook his head. “It’s not likely, not with all the media alerts and the BOLOs that have been put out with Jedidiah’s and Palmer’s—I mean Shane’s—pictures plastered everywhere. They’re probably both deep in the mountains waiting until they think the cops have quit looking for them. But we’re not taking any chances either.”
“Not taking chances how?”
“Blake and I are already on our way up,” Dillon said. “As soon as the information started coming in, we headed your way. We’d been on the road for several hours before everything was confirmed. We’re less than an hour out now.”
She glanced at the curtain-covered windows, as if she could see through them. “What if they get here before then?”
Colby put his arm around her shoulders. “Neither of us think anyone’s showing up tonight. But we’re taking precautions. Dillon called Sheriff O’Leary and he’s sending a deputy out tonight to stay with us. He should be here soon.”
He could feel some of the stiffness drain out of her shoulders.
“That’s good. Okay. Thanks.” She gave him a shaky smile, then her eyes widened. “Wait, what about Ken? Someone needs to warn him to be extra careful.”
“I’ll call him. Is there anything else you wanted to tell us, Dillon?”
“That’s pretty much it. We’ll see you soon.”
Colby ended the call and was about to ask Piper for Ken Taylor’s number when a knock sounded on the front door.
Piper jumped, then pressed a hand to her throat.
Colby drew his pistol and pointed it toward the floor. “Stay down, be quiet,” he whispered.
She nodded, and he stepped quietly to one of the front windows and flattened himself against the wall. Then he lifted the edge of the curtain and peeked out. He holstered his gun before looking back at Piper. “It’s Deputy Hollenbeck from yesterday morning.”
“Oh, thank goodness.” Her eyes widened. “Oh, my gosh. I have to get some clothes on.”
Colby grinned at the show she unwittingly gave him as she ran out of the room, her nightshirt bouncing up and revealing what she wasn’t wearing underneath.
The knock sounded again. “Miss Caraway? Detective Vale? It’s Deputy Hollenbeck.”
Colby unlocked the door and pulled it open. “Hey. Thanks for coming out.”
“No problem. I’m going to drive around the house and the outbuildings first, make sure everything looks okay. Then I’ll veg out on the couch. Sound good?”
“Sounds great. There’s a security guy at the stable. Name’s Ken Taylor. I’ll call him and let him know you’re coming.”
They shook hands and Colby locked the door again. He was about to call Ken when he remembered that he didn’t have the man’s number. He strode through the main room and down the hallway, stopping outside Piper’s bedroom doorway to give her privacy.
“Piper, can you give me Ken’s number?”
“Oh, sorry.”
Her voice sounded muffled, like maybe she was pulling some clothes over her head. She gave him the number and he punched it into the phone and pressed Call. Nothing happened. He pressed Call again and checked the signal bars. Earlier there were five. Now there were none. He frowned and put the phone to his ear. Nothing.
Piper stepped out of the bedroom smoothing down a long shirt over some jeans. “Did you warn Ken?” She looked past him. “Is the deputy in the family room?”
“He’s out checking the property.” He looked at the phone again. Why would there be no signal whatsoever when he’d had no troble before? A cold hard knot settled into his stomach.
“Piper, do you have your phone handy?”
“Sure, is yours dead? I think mine still has juice.” She disappeared into the bedroom and came back, carrying her phone.
“Call Ken.”
She blinked. “You sound worried.”
“I am. Call him. Now.”
Her fingers flew across the keyboard and she held the phone to her ear, then frowned. “That’s odd.” She lowered the phone. “The call isn’t going through. I’ve never had trouble making cell phone calls in my house.”
Colby cursed and pulled her away from the doorway into the middle of the hall. “Someone’s blocking the signals.”
“Someone...” Her eyes went big and round. “Oh, my God.”
“Do you have a safe room in the house?”
“A safe room? You mean with no windows or doors?”
“If that’s the best you’ve got, then yes.”
“My master bedroom closet, I guess.”
He pulled her with him to her doorway, frowning because the closet didn’t have a lock on the doorknob. But it was still safer than her being in a room with a window. He reached in and shut the light off. “Okay, come on.” He led her to the closet. “Sit on the floor. Do you have any guns?”
She shook her head. “No. I don’t.”
“No problem. You’re going to be okay. Just stay in here with the light off. Wedge something under the door so it can’t be pushed open from the outside. I’m just being extra cautious, not trying to scare you.”
“Well, you’re doing a lousy job if you’re trying not to scare me.” She ran a shaking hand through her long hair.
Colby kissed her hard. “Everything’s going to be okay. It’s probably just a bad cell tower.”
“But you said—”
“Forget what I said. I’m just covering all our bases. I’m going to go out in the living room and wait for Deputy Hollenbeck to come back. Then I’m going to have him drive us into town, again, just to be certain that there’s nothing to worry about. Okay?”
“O...okay.”
He pointed to the light switch. “I’m going to tur
n this off before I open the door again. Once I close it, stuff clothes under the door. Got it?”
“Yes. I’ve got it. Go.”
Bam! Bam! Bam!
Bam! Bam!
Colby cursed. “Piper, those were—”
“Gunshots. I know.”
Bam! Bam! Bam!
“It sounds like the deputy is in a shoot-out. I need to help him. Block this door and don’t come out for anyone but me.”
He yanked open the door and ran.
Chapter Seventeen
Colby crouched by the open car door and pressed his fingers against Deputy Hollenbeck’s throat, searching for a pulse even though he didn’t expect to find one. He shook his head and sent up a silent prayer as he closed the deputy’s eyes. Did the man have a family? A wife, children waiting for him at home? To his shame, Colby hadn’t even asked.
Hollenbeck’s gun was still in its holster. He’d never fired a single shot. Someone must have sniped him through the windshield as he drove his car toward the tree line to the back right side of Piper’s house. He’d never had a chance. But there had definitely been some kind of shoot-out. And it had been too close to the house to be coming from the stables. So who was shooting at whom?
A burst of static sounded from the police radio. Colby grabbed the mic to call for help. The cord dangled uselessly in the air, cut in two. He swore and tossed the mic into the passenger seat. That explained the open door. After shooting Hollenbeck, the shooter had leaned into the car and cut the radio cord.
A gurgling cough sounded from outside.
Ducking down, he eased around the open car door and saw what he’d missed earlier when he’d run to check on the deputy. Just inside the tree line, a man’s body lay crumpled in the dirt.
Colby ran to him, unsurprised when he saw who it was. A gun lay discarded, several feet away. Colby kicked it into the woods, then dropped to his knees to see if he could do anything to stop the bleeding. But there was nothing he could do. Bullets had ripped through the man’s chest and abdomen. Blood soaked his shirt, his pants, the ground beneath him. Air wheezed through a hole in his chest.