My questions kept growing but the one thing I didn’t want to do was lose my dad so I shut up and held on. We followed the van around the north side of the bluff and into sandstone hills frequented by bikers and runners. Damon stayed far enough back that I hoped they didn’t notice us.
The van stopped. I prayed for some movement so I could see that my dad was still alive. It didn’t happen. A sinking feeling in my gut got deeper as I glanced at Damon’s face. He didn’t look like himself, his expression a mask of determination and anger. He reached over me and pulled a gun from the glove box. I leaned away from the dull black pistol, my breath coming in short gasps. I sat there panting, my throat so dry I didn’t know if I could verbalize any of the questions I had. Who was Damon and what was he doing?
Damon leaped from his car. I jumped out, following him as he ran around the van and yanked the side door open. Muscle Man sat inside with my dad next to him. He was still alive. I wobbled with relief. Dad’s eyes jumped from me to Damon. “Oh, Cassidy. No!”
Muscle Man grinned. “I don’t think anyone told you sweetheart, but you’re dessert.”
Post-Marathon PartyI Wish
I glanced at Damon. He stared at me with a slight smirk on his face. Was he a part of this?
Greasy Beanpole came around from the driver’s side, brushing against me and bending to unlatch the second door. I shrunk back, revulsion sweeping through me.
Muscle Man stood, shoving my dad from the van. Damon pushed me out of the way and jumped onto Greasy Beanpole. At the same time my dad dove at Muscle Man’s ankles, tripping him.
What the heck? Why didn’t anyone tell me about the pre-arranged signal?
Damon pummeled Greasy Beanpole into the van floor while my father and his huge rival wrestled in the reddish-brown mud for control of the gun in Muscle Man’s hands.
I came at Muscle Man from behind. He easily threw me off and circled my dad’s esophagus with his arm. His shiny black pistol dug into my father’s temple. Dad stopped fighting. Muscle Man whirled to glare at me. “Stop right there, Cassidy.”
“No, you stop,” Damon said from the van door. He pushed Greasy Beanpole in front of him, a gun pressed against the smaller man’s neck.
Muscle Man laughed. He stood, dragging my father up with him without moving his finger from the trigger. “You think I care about Terry? Do me a favor and shoot him, save me a million bucks.”
“Al,” Greasy Beanpole whined.
“Shut up,” Muscle Man yelled.
“All we’re going to accomplish here is a blood bath,” Damon said, his voice level and reasonable, eons from where I was emotionally. An hour ago I’d tried to ditch him and now he was saving us. I didn’t care who he was as long as he saved my dad. “I shoot your buddy. You shoot Nathan. I shoot you. Either way you end up dead.”
Muscle Man smiled. “You wish it would play out like that. Preppy little college boy. You ever shot somebody in your life?” He stared. Damon didn’t look away. Finally Muscle Man shook his head. “I shoot Nathan, then I kill you. You may get a lucky shot off and plug Terry but then I still walk with two million dollars and Cassidy.” He smirked. “Why do you think I let you follow me? I wasn’t going to leave without the girl.”
“No!” my dad screamed. Muscle Man jammed the gun harder into his head.
I clutched myself to try to stop the trembling and the need to vomit. Muscle Man had waited for me. I glanced around, hoping someone would come to our rescue. The van blocked our view of the road but I couldn’t hear any vehicles approaching.
“The girl is kind of a pain. Let me kill her for you.”
The voice came from the back of the van. I spun. Elizabeth strolled casually towards us with a gun extended.
I snapped. “What are you doing? Put that gun away, you psycho!”
“I don’t think so, Cassidy.” Elizabeth was as calm as she was beautiful. She even looked good with her red hair plastered to her skull from rainwater. “I’ve tried to do things the right way, but you,” she jabbed the dull black metal in my direction, “keep getting in the way.”
“Okay, crazy woman.” I tried to ignore the deadly weapon pointed at me. My legs were shaking and I couldn’t blame it on the twenty-one miles I’d just run. “What are you going to accomplish shooting me?”
Her eyes met my dad’s and then gestured to Muscle Man. The world stopped rotating. My stomach dropped. Hot Redhead was on our side. Where did that put Damon?
Muscle Man stared at her. “Who are you? How'd you follow us?”
“She’s after me,” I told him, maybe I could at least distract him while Elizabeth and Damon figured out what to do with their guns. “Think about what you’re doing, Elizabeth,” I said. “There are a lot of men looking for a beautiful girl like yourself. Why waste your life shooting me just because Damon thinks I’m cooler than you?”
Elizabeth tossed her hair over her shoulder. “You’re not cooler than me.”
“Of course I’m not,” I said, trying to sound soothing, but my voice was quavering too much. I clenched my hands, praying my dad and I would somehow live through this. “Just put the gun down, Elizabeth. We’ll get you a good psychiatrist and someday soon you’ll meet someone even better than Damon.”
My eyes flickered to him. Damon watched with a bemused smile as Elizabeth and I argued. He kept the gun pointed at the whimpering Greasy Beanpole, his strong grip not allowing the criminal to move.
“I want Damon,” Elizabeth insisted.
“Enough of this high-school drama,” Muscle Man interrupted. He moved the gun from my dad’s head to point it at Elizabeth.
It was the opening she needed. I heard the retort of a pistol. I screamed. Muscle Man sunk to the earth, taking my dad with him. The gun fell from Muscle Man’s fingers. I sprang to my dad, pushing at Muscle Man’s bulk to free him. Elizabeth joined me. Together we rolled him off. Dad struggled to his feet, bringing Elizabeth and me up with him. We all stared down at the motionless monster.
“Hot Redhead! You shot him.” I shook my head in disbelief, stomach twisting at all the blood pooling on the right side of Muscle Man’s chest but at the same time so relieved that he wouldn’t touch me again.
Another shot recoiled through the air. I jumped from my dad’s arms and spun to see Damon shoving Greasy Beanpole into the dust. “Damon?”
He kicked Greasy Beanpole with his running shoe then smiled at Elizabeth. “Thank you. These two have definitely served their purpose.”
Elizabeth glared at him. “No loyalty for your own.”
Damon laughed. “Al and Terry were great. They kept an eye on Cassidy whenever I had to focus on another job and got Nathan to come to Utah without me having to compromise myself. Too bad they didn’t know who I was.” His blue eyes were cold as they met my gaze. “There was no way I was going to share this reward with them.”
“What reward?” My insides froze. Jesse had tried to warn me. But Damon had seemed so genuine, so nice. He couldn’t be . . .
Damon’s gun swung to aim straight at my father. “The two million dollars.”
I grabbed my dad’s arm. Elizabeth pointed her gun at Damon. “I knew it! The FBI swore you were nobody, but I knew something was off.”
“Why didn’t you say something?” my dad’s whisper was harsh and unforgiving.
Elizabeth didn’t look at him. “I did say something. The FBI thought I was crazy. I even checked out his background and spoke with some clients.”
Damon grinned. “Nobody would guess that I work for Clive Ramirez.” His finger tightened on the trigger. “Better make sure the truth doesn’t leak out from any of you.”
“No,” I breathed, staring at Damon. He wouldn’t shoot my dad, would he?
Elizabeth’s arm stayed steady. “He’s Ramirez’s crony, Cassidy.”
“Oh, no.” The world spun. I would’ve fallen if my dad hadn’t held me up.
“Damon is one of the best covers I’ve seen,” Elizabeth said.
“That’s beca
use I’m Damon. Great cover when you don’t have to fabricate anything.”
“Then how did you get involved with Ramirez?” Dad studied Damon carefully.
“My mom met Clive in Acapulco years ago. She always had a different man around. I hated most of them, but Clive and I really hit it off. He was like the father I never had. He’s been training me for years and over the past six months I’ve done such a good job that he’s trusted me with important hits.” He grinned. “Like this one.”
We were so close together, Damon couldn’t possibly miss when he pulled that trigger. But maybe I could distract him. I inched closer to him. Elizabeth’s eyes flickered to me before she asked another question. “Why’d you kill the man up the canyon?”
Damon half-smiled, inclining his head to Elizabeth. “I didn’t know if anyone would put that together.” He shrugged. “Paul Ethington. He was supposed to be keeping an eye on Nathan’s family. He was the one that informed us Cassidy had signed up for the Health Days Race and made sure she won the St. George Marathon. Then Ramirez found out he was feeding info to the FBI. I was sent to take him out and become involved with Cassidy so when Nathan came home I could take care of him easily.”
“You k-killed that guy?” I stuttered, clinging to the van door with slick fingers and picturing that body in Smithfield Canyon. My stomach was in my throat.
Damon glanced at me. “I was going to move him after the race, but then you found him.”
“You knew Al and Terry were going after me today?” Dad asked, his voice calm, his gaze studying Damon. How could he look so unafraid when I wanted to fall on the ground and beg Damon not to kill us?
Damon chuckled. “Clive told me their plans. They were going to wait until Cassidy reached mile twenty-one and distracted you. They were pretty organized,” he admitted. “They took out the FBI agents watching over you seconds before they grabbed you. They made it easy for me. I simply had my car at the right spot, grabbed Cassidy, and followed you.”
My eyes narrowed. “I can’t believe I fell for your act.” No matter how scared I was I wouldn’t let him hurt my dad. Just another step and I could jump on him. Could I move fast enough to knock the gun away? If I could distract him, Dad and Elizabeth could take him out.
Damon’s eyes searched mine. “I am sorry about this, Cassie. It started out as a job, but I really grew to enjoy you. You entertained me while I waited for the right time to kill Nathan.”
I was like an apple Damon had enjoyed a few bites of, and then dropped into the dirt and kicked to the side of the road. Rage boiled in my chest. Damon had tricked me, betrayed me, and now he was going to shoot my father. The arm supporting his gun steadied, focusing directly on my dad. I could barely see through my anger. I lowered my head and barreled into Damon’s chest. He stuttered off balance but didn’t go down. The gun discharged.
I heard a loud, “Oomph,” and a body slamming into the mud.
I swung at Damon with both fists. He grabbed at my arms with one hand, trying to steady his gun for another shot. I didn’t dare look to see if he’d killed my father, I kept pummeling him. The gun was ripped from Damon’s grasp by lean fingers. Fingers that I recognized. “Jesse!”
Jesse gave me a brief smile before tossing the gun into the brush and slamming his fist into Damon’s face. I jumped away from the fight and spun to see if my dad was okay.
Dad knelt on the ground, sheltering Elizabeth with his body.
She’d taken the bullet for my dad. I hurried to them. A hand grabbed my foot, toppling me onto my dad and Elizabeth. Strong arms yanked me back and pulled me against Muscle Man’s side. No! He couldn’t still be alive. The right side of his shirt was drenched in blood and mud. My throat tightened as my pulse reverberated in my skull. “No,” I screamed, flailing at him with my fists.
Jesse’s head whipped around, his eyes round and terror-filled. “Cassidy!”
Muscle Man tried to pin my arms and hold me with his left hand, lifting a gun in his bloody right hand. “It’s over, Cassidy,” he whispered.
Jesse jumped off of Damon and came running. My dad released Elizabeth and scrambled towards us on his knees. I freed my arm and grabbed Muscle Man’s fingers, squeezing with every ounce of strength I’d gleaned from years of weight lifting. Muscle Man cried out in pain, his weakened right limb unable to support the gun and the pressure. The gun clanked to the dirt. I slammed my fist into the bloodiest part of his chest that I could see. He released me and I flew back into the dirt.
My dad pounced on Muscle Man, holding him down. Jesse grinned at me. “Well done.”
Over Jesse’s shoulder I could see Damon stomping towards us covered in dirt and blood from their fight. “Jesse!”
He whirled. Damon spotted his pistol underneath a sagebrush and swept it from the ground. Jesse leapt at him before he could bring it up and shoot. They bounced onto the ground, Jesse trying to hold onto Damon’s wrist and slam the pistol from his fingers. My dad had Muscle Man pinned. Elizabeth sat up, looking half-dazed. I could barely haul myself off the ground, but I wasn’t going to let Damon hurt Jesse. I stuttered across the few feet and slammed the heel of my running shoe against Damon’s fingers and the gun.
He howled in pain, letting go of the pistol. Jesse pushed him into the mud. Policemen and FBI agents spilled around the van. They rolled over Muscle Man and cuffed him. To his credit he didn’t cry out in pain, just glared at me. Some other officers hauled Greasy Beanpole away, which was really gross considering he had to be dead.
Damon screamed in protest as they pulled Jesse off of him and cuffed Damon. “I’m clean. He’s the one you want.” He pointed at Jesse. “Check my credentials.”
Luckily the policemen didn’t buy his story. I prayed he’d rot in a prison cell. Jesse folded his arms across his chest and watched them haul Damon away.
I glanced over to Hot Redhead and my dad. She leaned against my dad’s shoulder. “I’m fine, Nathan. It just grazed my arm.” She pressed at a bloody wound on her upper arm with delicate fingers.
Dad ripped off his T-shirt and covered the wound with it. The relief in my dad’s face shocked me for a second. Did he have feelings for . . . I couldn’t complete the thought. It was like a betrayal to my mom to even think it. My jaw was on the grass. “So Hot Redhead is one of the good guys.”
Elizabeth smiled at me. “My name is Caroline Farnsworth. I’ve been following you for your dad since he discovered Ramirez knew he was alive and was coming after him again.”
“Dang, girl. You’re not only a pretty good shot, you’re the best actress I’ve ever met.”
She arched an eyebrow. “I definitely made some mistakes with this one so I’m glad it all worked out.” She shook her head. “For some reason I wanted you away from Damon, even though everyone swore he wasn’t anyone to be concerned about.”
“So that’s why you acted so nuts.”
Her beautiful smile returned. “I was trying anything I could to keep you safe. I didn’t want you training for this marathon or being around anyone I had any doubts about.”
“Thanks,” I murmured, still struggling to see her as a good guy, especially with my dad wrapping his arm around her shoulder.
A strong arm encircled my waist. “Are you all right?”
I smiled up at Jesse. “I am now. How did you know to come?”
He grinned. “I told you I’d protect you.”
Hot Redhead and my dad both frowned at Jesse.
“You were almost too late,” Hot Redhead said.
My dad whirled on Elizabeth. “You told him to come.”
She focused on Jesse. “He’s been very helpful with Cassidy’s protection.” She squirmed at my dad’s frown. “It wasn’t like I was in contact with him, but I saw him watching over her a few times and I called him today after I contacted the FBI and police.”
“I don’t want him anywhere near her!” Dad turned the force of his glower on Jesse. “Who gave you permission to come and blow your cover?”
Jess
e pursed his lips. “I don’t need permission when Cassidy is in trouble.”
Dad’s eyebrows arched. His fists clenched. “She is my daughter.”
“Yes, sir, and you know how much I respect you, but Cassidy is a very capable not to mention beautiful woman who can make decisions for herself.”
I blinked, warmth rushing through me. “Um, we’ll be right back.” I gave Dad a smile and tugged Jesse away from him, maybe Hot Redhead could keep him busy for a minute. Dad seemed a bit more interested in her than he should’ve been. She couldn't be more than five years older than me and my mom hadn’t been gone that long.
When we were out of earshot I whirled to face Jesse. “So you are a good guy?”
He chuckled, reaching up to brush at a wet lock of hair that had escaped from my braids. “I like to think so.”
I trembled from his touch. I wanted to throw myself into his arms, but I had to know what was really going on. “How do I know you’re not just pretending to help the FBI.”
Jesse took a deep breath. His fudge-colored eyes searched my face. “I think you know I wouldn’t betray you.”
I swallowed. Yesterday I wouldn’t have guessed that Damon would betray me. But Jesse had a point. There was no way to deny how he’d always made me feel. I couldn’t question what my own gut was telling me. “But how are you involved in all of this?”
“When my dad sold himself to Ramirez a few years ago he wanted me with him. I refused so he,” he coughed and looked down, “he blackmailed me.”
Blackmailed? By his own father? I wanted to ask how he’d blackmailed him but Jesse kept talking, probably so I wouldn’t ask.
“He wants me to work with him but obviously my commitment level is in question so my assignments are gruntwork, usually moving shipments of slaves.” He scowled. “I do all I can to make it easier for them and protect them from the worst of the slavers.”
“You have to be a part of it?”
He studied the red mud on my shoes. “I’ve found a way I can help. The slavers all think I’m one of them.” He opened his hands. “Most people looking at me would believe it too. After a few drinks they tell me about other shipments, other hiding and exchange spots for the slaves. I have to be careful what information I share with the FBI. If the children I am working with get rescued and I don’t get arrested or killed, nobody would believe my cover.” He studied me. “I also have access to some of my dad and Ramirez’s conversations because I’ve figured out some of my dad’s passwords. This morning I found some communication about Damon. I hurried here as fast as I could.”
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