by Angi Morgan
“I’m sending the family out in the Jeep and following Bree.”
“Roger,” Wilder acknowledged. “There’s a truck headed in from the north.”
“I didn’t think it would be easy. I’ll get the family. You get the shooter.” Jake had his knife in hand and sprinted the remaining ten or so feet to Bree’s family.
Rifle shots echoed. “He’s either a lousy shot or—”
“Bree made a break. She didn’t get away from him....” Wilder trailed off.
Jake had to focus on one rescue at a time. Get the family out. Think of nothing else or he was useless. A shot hit the Jeep. The shooter would correct his aim soon.
“Pick up your daughter and keep running as best you can. I’ll carry your wife.”
Jake didn’t have time to verify if Watkins understood or not. They all kept running. He met them, cut their ropes and lifted Bree’s mother off the ground by her waist, very glad she was about the same size as both her daughters. He had the three of them on the safe side of the Jeep before he cut and removed their ropes completely.
Jake yanked out his bag of gear and pushed Bree’s sister into the back of the Jeep. “Stay low. Drive. Don’t stop. Don’t look back. We’ll meet you at the police station. Address is in the GPS.”
“Is Sabrina really alive?” asked Bree’s mother. “Was that really her?”
“Yes, ma’am. Sorry, I can’t explain.”
“Thank you,” Watkins said, and began backing down the road as a truck sped into view and gunned its engine.
“Anytime now, Wilder. Anytime.” Jake picked up his rifle and ran to the cattle fence. It was the only cover he had and that might make it harder for the shooter to actually hit him.
“I think I have the shooter. I warned you about my marksmanship.”
“I’m taking out the truck so they can’t follow the family. Cover me if nothing else.”
Jake sprinted along the path he’d cleared to the road as the truck gained speed to follow the Watkins family. He dug deep, blew out his breath and fired at the front tires until he heard the blowout and the truck swerved into the far barbed-wire fence.
“Do you have eyes on Bree?” he shouted over the continuing gunfire behind him.
“Negative. There you are, you son of—” A lone rifle shot, then another, then something fell and clanked against the metal of the silo. “Done. My team’s in place around the perimeter. They can’t get out of the lot.”
Jake left the men in the truck—alive, dead or unconscious, he didn’t care. Wilder could take care of them. “I’m heading after Bree.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Shut up and keep moving.”
“Which direction?” Bree asked.
The man she’d been so petrified of for six months, who had haunted her dreams on a regular basis, shoved between her shoulder blades and cursed when she fell.
He grabbed her coat and hauled her back to her feet. “Fall again, bitch, and I might as well blow your head off.”
“Tell me which way to go and I won’t fall.” For once she didn’t cower. Afraid, definitely. And she had no idea if anyone was following to help her out of this mess. But she knew the police were out there. This monster wouldn’t get free to haunt someone else. There was still a chance she could survive. She just had to figure out how.
With the faint yellow glow of the mercury lights, they followed the road used to load and feed the cattle. There were tire tracks from earlier in the day that were quickly getting slick without the sun to melt the snow.
Thinking they would be fed again, the cattle pushed toward the fence, jumping on one another’s backs, bucking, mooing.
“Cut across that pen to the left.”
This was her chance. She could go through the pipe fence, but her abductor would have to climb over. She’d have precious seconds to disappear among the cattle. She followed his instructions, sliding through the icy pipes, pushing her way through the cattle as fast as they’d move out of her way.
“I swear, girl, if you make another move, I’ll shoot you through the head,” he said, perched on the top row.
She stopped as best she could with the cows pressing against her. Even if the man fired and missed, she’d be crushed between these huge animals. He entered the pen and shoved his way to her side, sticking the gun against her temple.
“You might not care much about your own hide, but think about your family and friends. I will get out of here and I will slice all their throats.” He shoved her head and then shoved the cows.
The cows squeezed her between them, crushed her toes and clamored to get closer. Crossing the pen was exhausting and disgusting in the slush and manure. They were at the mercy of which way the cattle swayed for the longest time. Then the herd sort of turned the opposite direction. Maybe...
A long shadow fell across the backs of the cows. Someone was cutting across the pens on top of the fence. She pointed to the opposite corner and said, “That way’s open.”
Very few cows were between her and the field where they’d been heading. She picked up her pace, hoping whoever followed could get to her soon. Please, please, please, let it be Jake.
“What are you looking at?”
Her nightmare spun to look behind them and she ran. Something hit her back and tangled her feet, tripping her. She caught a glimpse of Jake at the side of the pen where they were headed.
“Drop your weapon, Leroy. Don’t move and stay where you are.” Jake’s voice shouted across the pen. “Lot seventy-seven, come in silent.”
Would Leroy know he was telling the police where they were?
“Or you’ll shoot? Your girlfriend’s on the ground, Detective. Spook a cow and she’s dead.” His boot went square on her stomach, keeping her pinned down in the icy mud.
Her feet were untangled, but Leroy had his gun pointed at her. They were in a corner with fewer cows, but he was right. One little spook and she’d be trampled.
“I think it’s your turn to drop your weapon.”
“You got nowhere to go, man. The police will have this place surrounded in a matter of minutes.”
The cattle had noticed Jake at the rail. They’d all be clamoring on top of each other soon. She pushed at Leroy’s boot, desperate to get off the ground. How? She couldn’t see Jake and her knife had been taken away from her back at the first gate.
What had her self-defense instructor told them to do if caught on the ground? Pull the attacker’s clothes to get them off balance. She began tugging at his jeans, then rocking her body back and forth. As soon as his foot shifted, she twisted from under him and rolled to the other side of a cow.
“I’m free, Jake!”
Someone fired. She scrambled to her knees and headed away in the direction of the fewest cattle. She found an open spot, stood and pushed between anxious cows heading in all directions because of the gunfire.
And anxious because of a fight. She climbed to the top of the fence in time to see Jake land two good punches to the other man’s jaw. He stumbled backward, but Jake stayed on top of him. With a punch to his gut, the man fell against a large white cow and that evil grin she’d seen at the clinic slithered onto his face. It seemed like a lifetime ago but she recognized it.
“He’s got my knife!”
She watched a repeat of this morning’s fight with that young kid. Every slash of the blade was perfectly countered by Jake. His arm dripped blood from a gash but he didn’t slow down. And then the move that had killed that crazy young man in Wichita Falls was repeated.
This man fell, crazed eyes squinting shut, never crying out. Jake dropped to his knees and Bree jumped from the fence to run to his side.
“Oh, God, Jake. Are you all right?” Her voice was low and scared.
They made it safely to and over the fence
in time to watch several police cars sloshing through the snow. They sat on the curb of the feed trough, waiting. The cattle followed to the fence behind them, noisy and wanting to be fed. They seemed unaffected by the fight.
Totally unlike her.
“You’re bleeding. Is Kyle still listening to you through the microphone?”
“I lost the earpiece after the first punch to my face. It’s somewhere out in the muck.” Jake shook off her hands from his arms. “God, I thought he’d shot you. Thought you were dead.” He gently trapped her face with his long fingers and she covered his hands, keeping him close. “I’m not sure where this relationship will lead, Bree. But I don’t want it to end.”
“This is crazy, Jake. We met yesterday morning. You don’t have to say that because we had an interlude.”
“You what?” Kyle Wilder asked as he walked up. “Are you about to kiss that witness, Detective Craig?”
They split apart. An officer brought a first-aid kit to look at Jake’s arm and Kyle backed her out of the way. “It will complicate my case if you’re having a fling with the detective.”
“We barely know each other.” She didn’t believe that. They’d connected somehow. Or was it just extenuating circumstances?
“Good, because a relationship with a suspect would just be another bad mark in his file.” Kyle had lowered his voice so the other officers couldn’t hear.
“To think we have a relationship is stupid. I just met him yesterday.” It didn’t matter if she felt something or not. After everything Jake had done for her, she wasn’t going to let him get into trouble for kissing her—or sleeping with her.
Kyle guided her down the road to a car ready to pull out. “Get in, Sabrina.” When she hesitated, his grip on her arm prevented her from running back to Jake. “I’m not asking.”
“Why are they arresting him? You said—” She twisted free and took a step toward the officers escorting Jake to another police car. “Are we both under arrest?”
Kyle caught her arm again and snapped a cuff around her wrist. “I’ve been instructed to get you into protective custody and out of Amarillo. You’re the key to bringing these scumbags to justice. Now get in the car.”
She wanted to explain to Jake how she felt. “Can’t I see him for a minute?”
“We have to obtain your statements separately. I can’t let you see your parents, either.”
“I...I don’t understand, Kyle.”
“This money-laundering scam is huge and you’re the key to putting them in jail. They’re cleaning house. My men found Griffin Tyler shot through the head in his home. They’ve been trying to kill you for six months. Do you think they’re stopping now?”
“What if I refuse? I mean, Jake’s done a fantastic job of protecting me and—”
“Will he be able to protect all your family? What if he does jail time for his actions at his precinct?”
“If I go with you he’ll be cleared?”
Kyle nodded. She got in the car and he closed the door.
Police protection scared her more than when she’d been held at knifepoint by Larry. She rubbed the place on her neck where the blade had cut her. But why? She had no reason not to trust Kyle. What worried her was not seeing her family.
And not telling Jake how much he meant to her. Maybe she hadn’t answered him, but she could clear his name and guarantee that he got his old job back. She could do that much for the marine who’d defended her so completely.
* * *
JAKE DIDN’T LIKE sitting in the backseat of a police cruiser. Locked on the wrong side of the glass, he could only watch as Kyle Wilder drove Bree away from the scene. An officer took him to the station and put him in an interview room. He had a lot of explaining to do to his captain, the Wichita Falls police and, right now, to a special task force rep in a nice, clean suit.
Jake still stunk from rolling in the feed lots. The only thing clean on him was the bandage where they’d dressed the knife wound on his arm.
“Detective Craig, the state of Texas would like to thank you for your help. I’m going to get your statement and make arrangements for your travel back to DFW.” He set a pad and pencil on the table.
Jake stood and leaned on the table, looking down on whatever officer was attempting to be nice to him. “Where’s Sabrina Watkins?”
“Miss Watkins is no longer in Amarillo. She’s been secured.”
Secured? “When can I see her?” Jake sat, trying to keep a lid on the fury coursing through him.
“I have no information. Nor, if I did, would I be able to share it with you, Detective.”
“So where’s my dog?”
“Pardon?”
Jake knew the drill. He’d done it too many times himself. They wanted his recollections as fast as he could get them written. He pushed the notepad an arm’s length away.
“Kyle Wilder sent my pup, Dallas, with an officer when we landed at the airport. She could be at the pound for all I know. And that’s not going to happen. I’ll make my statement when you find my dog.” Bree’s dog that he’d keep until she said otherwise. He laced his fingers behind his head. The tape on his side pinched his skin, but he kept a straight face. “Don’t shake your head and tell me I’m not in a position to make demands. Come on, man. Just find my dog and get me a hamburger. I’m starved.”
The officer scooped up the pen and paper and left. Ten minutes later, Dallas bounded through the door.
“There’s my girl.” At least one of them.
When the time was right, he’d demand to see Bree. And if he couldn’t—if he could hang on to the pup, he was certain they’d find each other sooner or later.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The jumping Chihuahua in Bree’s stomach had twenty pals join him. Testifying had nothing on the nerves she was trying to get under control. Facing Jake after five long, lonely months waiting to testify might be harder than walking that snow-covered road with a gun to her head. That night she’d known Jake would come after her. Today, she had no way of predicting how he’d react to her just showing up.
This house with the rolling hill country backdrop was a far cry from Jake’s one-bedroom apartment.
“So, this is the place. I’ll wait for you if you want,” Mr. Soku, the driver, said with a foreign accent.
She’d had plenty of time to share her doubts about arriving unannounced. Her fear had just come pouring out to her driver.
“I can’t do this, after all. Can you turn—” A bark and familiar howl stopped her. Dallas. She didn’t even need to see the puppy to know who beckoned to her. “I’ll call when I’m ready to go. It might be as soon as five minutes.”
“I’ll be close by, Miss Sabrina. Much good fortune to you. I wish you luck finding your happy beginning.”
“Thank you so very much, Mr. Soku.” She paid him and got out the driver’s side door he opened, standing in the deserted street as he drove away.
Dallas barked from behind the fence. Mr. Soku honked from the corner, leaning out his window and gesturing that she move from her spot. She couldn’t or was afraid to take a step. What if Jake rejected her? A vehicle turned the corner and she had to get out of its way. There wasn’t a sidewalk so she quickly walked down the driveway to the porch.
A door slammed and she wanted to look behind her, but that petrified feeling had her glued, facing the bell. If she turned away, she’d keep right on walking. Chicken. She pushed the doorbell and waited. There was scratching at the door, more barking and a bit of howling.
“May I help you, ma’am?” asked a deep, sexy voice from behind her.
Jumping Chihuahuas, she’d missed that voice. It started all sorts of bubbly good things inside her.
The tall marine-turned-homicide-detective-turned-state-investigator gulped. He gulped again and looked around as if he was embarrassed to have her on his steps, let alone near his house. “I didn’t recognize you as a blonde and in that— That’s some dress, Bree. What are you doing here?”
“Oh, no. I’m sorry. I should have called.” She darted down the single step, hearing the little howl behind the door. It broke her heart as much as the confused look on Jake’s face.
His hand darted out, catching her bare upper arm. It was blazing hot outside and just a couple of minutes in the afternoon sun had her skin heated. But Jake’s touch shot a flame through every inch of her being.
“Wait. They told me you were coming to see Dallas.”
She had come a very long way to see Jake. Months of wondering and debating. She stepped back under the shade of the porch and searched his dark eyes. “You look great, Jake.”
As soon as he got through the door, he ignored Dallas until she sat in front of him. “Good girl. You ready to eat?” The dog was twice the size she’d been five months earlier. All legs, she bounded to Bree before chasing around the corner, sliding on the wooden floors after Jake.
Bree stayed in the entry hall, unsure about where to go and completely convinced this had been the wrong thing to do. They’d known each other for less than two full days. He’d moved on with his life while hers had been in limbo waiting in protective custody.
Jake stuck his head around the corner. “Coming?”
“Your home’s very beautiful.”
“I got a good deal on it. The owners were downsizing and left a lot of the furnishings, and Dallas needed a yard.” He scooped dog food into a dish. “Come on, girl. You know the drill. Sit.”
The Lab plopped down, her long tail sweeping the floor as it wagged behind her.