Protective Confinement

by Cassie Miles

  When this was over, she doubted she would see Dash again. He’d return to San Francisco and his essentially dangerous job. In spite of their closeness and the most incredible sex she’d ever experienced, their relationship was over before it even got started.

  He strode into the den. All business. The sexy stubble was gone. He’d traded his black leather jacket for a crisp white shirt that looked as if it had been ironed only moments ago and a necktie—the uniform of Super Fed.

  “Thought you might want an update,” he said.

  “A briefing?” She really didn’t enjoy his professional persona. “By all means.”

  “Dr. Sterling is here,” he said. “As soon as we determined there were bones buried by the four aspens below La Rana, I suggested we contact him.”

  “Before the body was removed?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” His grin betrayed a hint of intimacy. Just a hint. “I’ve been paying attention to your archaeology lectures about burial sites and plant growth and indigenous insects. I knew Sterling could tell us more if we waited for him.”

  “Has he drawn any conclusions?”

  “You know how he works. He won’t give conclusions until he’s ready. But he suggests that this victim was buried almost two years ago, shortly after Flynn took over at the safe house.”

  “That can’t be a coincidence.”

  “The Judge knew Flynn was here. He left the remains close on purpose. Why he kept that murder a secret until now, I don’t know.”

  She thought of Treadwell’s analysis. Russell was giving up all his secrets. Preparing to move on. Or to kill himself. “How’s Flynn doing?”

  “He’s holding together. Of course, he blames himself, but—”

  “So do I. I feel guilty because he’s hurting people in my name. So do you.” They were all willing to take responsibility for the deeds of a madman because he wouldn’t. He killed with impunity. With malice. With pure evil. “I want this to be over.”

  “We all do.”

  At her feet, Yazzie growled.

  They were all on edge. Glancing over her shoulder at the electronics expert who was busily adjusting various dials and monitors, she lowered her voice. “I’m not too impressed with all these agents running around, taking notes and coming up with theories. You and I—just the two of us—got closer to Russell than any of them.”

  “At the cave,” he said.

  “We should have gone after him.” She frowned. “If I hadn’t been there, you would have chased him down. You turned back because you were protecting me.”

  “You’re right. I might have tried something as stupid as charging into an ambush where my opponent had all the advantage.”

  When he put it that way, she felt far less guilty for holding him back. “Being with me protected you.”

  “Which brings me to the next thing I need to talk about.” Though he didn’t touch her, she could feel him reaching out. “Treadwell has talked to the behavioral analyst team.”

  “The profiler and the other psychologist.” Those two men had spent a rather intense fifteen minutes questioning her. Though their manner was intelligent, she found it hard to take them seriously. One was tall and heavy, and the other was skinny with high eyebrows. They reminded her of Laurel and Hardy.

  “They talked about you,” Dash said. “When Russell calls, he’ll probably ask you to do something. To perform some kind of task.”

  She could see where this was leading. “And?”

  “They think you can handle it. If you’re willing, they want you involved.”

  To be used as bait. Ever since she’d escaped from Russell’s clutches, Cara had known it would come to this. A final showdown with the monster. “Of course, I’ll do it.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Cara couldn’t tell whether Dash was pleased with her response. He should have expected her to agree. For the past several days, she’d told him over and over that she wanted to be part of the investigation. If it meant catching Russell, she wanted him to use her.

  He signaled the electronics expert and said, “We’ll be back in a minute.”

  Taking her hand, he pulled her down the hall. On the way, they passed Laurel and Hardy, but Dash didn’t pause. He took her into the bathroom—the last private sanctuary in the safe house.

  As soon as he closed the door, he pulled her close. His kiss was ferocious and hard. He pressed her up against the tiled wall opposite the sink until her breasts crushed against him. She felt the hard edge of his shoulder holster, reminding her of the danger that surrounded them.

  This burst of passion was unexpected but so very welcome. She’d been longing for his touch, needing this release from the rising tension. Her tongue plunged into his mouth. Sudden heat exploded. She latched her leg with his, pulling him closer.

  He ended the kiss. His breath was hot on her ear. “I want a future with you, Cara.”

  “A what?”

  He looked into her eyes. “I want to spend time with you. Lots of time. I want to know you better.”

  “A relationship.” Her heart was pounding so loudly that she couldn’t think. “Why are you saying this now?”

  “Because I want you.”

  Another kiss. His taste was becoming more familiar. And his scent—a mix of tweed and leather. As she succumbed to his demanding strength, she felt as if she’d always known him, as if she’d been waiting for him all her life.

  “What do you say, Cara? Do we have a future?”

  She struggled to think. Of course, a relationship was totally impossible. The logistics were all wrong. They both had careers that required long hours and travel. Not to mention the inherent danger of his job. Would she accept less? “I don’t think so.”

  He separated from her and turned away. He braced his hands on the bathroom sink and looked into the mirror. In his reflection, she saw his confusion.

  “What’s the problem?” he asked. “All I’m saying is that I want to get to know you better. It’s not like I’m proposing marriage.”

  But that was exactly what she wanted. A future that included a home and family. And a husband. Dash couldn’t give that to her. “A casual relationship isn’t what I want.”

  “It could be more. Sometimes, you have to take a risk.”

  “Don’t you dare talk to me about risk.” She yanked on his arm, turning him around to face her. “You’re the one with the dangerous job.”

  As he stared at her, she saw the hurt in his eyes. It was killing her to reject him, but she didn’t have enough time to be subtle. She continued, “You talk about a future together and wanting to get to know me when you’re risking your life every day. What kind of relationship could we have?”

  “My life isn’t any more dangerous than a cop or a fireman. Or a corporate lawyer with a bleeding ulcer headed for a coronary.”

  “You’re wearing a shoulder holster,” she pointed out.

  “And I’m a hell of a good marksman, which makes me safer than a lot of people.”

  Her heart told her that he was the one—the man she’d been waiting for all her life. He was strong and brave. Intelligent and sensitive.

  He was also inherently unable and unwilling to settle down. She could never demand that he give up his career. A relationship with him under those conditions would only lead to disappointment. “I’m sorry, Dash. There are just too many obstacles.”

  “Not obstacles. Challenges.” He caught hold of her arms, forcing her to confront him. “You can’t give up on me, Cara. You’re not a quitter.”

  Of all the ways he could have described her, that was the most accurate. She never gave up. Not in her academic career, not in her private life. But this wasn’t about her. It was about him. “People don’t change. You’re not the marrying kind.”

  “The hell I’m not.” Right there in the bathroom, he dropped to one knee. “Marry me.”

  Looking down into the stunning blue of his eyes, she saw a man she could live with for the rest of her life. If she dared�
� If she was willing to take the chance…

  There was a hammering on the bathroom door and a shout. “We need Cara. He’s calling.”

  She flung open the door and rushed into the den. The behavioral analyst guys were standing by. The electronics expert pointed to her. “The line is open now. Talk.”

  Gasping, she said, “Hello?”

  “Hi, Cara. It’s me, Russell.”

  His voice sounded through the room. Everyone else was silent. “Hello, Russell.”

  “Have you missed me?” he asked. “I’ve missed you, but that’s about to change. We’re finally going to get together.”

  She looked toward Laurel and Hardy. They had instructed her on what to say. “I’m not free to come and go as I please. It might be better if you came to me.”

  “That sounds like something a psychologist would tell you to say.” He laughed as though he didn’t have a care in the world. “I hope you’re not talking to some dumb shrink.”

  “Of course not.”

  “Because if you tell anybody about this… Well, that would suck. Big time.”

  He sounded so young. How could this be the same man who had brutally murdered those women? Who had kidnapped her? “I won’t tell anyone.”

  “If you did, I might have to hurt this nice girl who’s here with me. Do you want to talk to her?”

  “Yes.”

  From the corner of her eye, she saw Dash. His jaw clenched. If he could have reached through the phone and strangled Russell, she had no doubt that he would have done so.

  Then she heard the sobs of his next victim. The sound tore into her. “If you hurt her, Russell, you’ll never see me again.”

  “No problem. I just wanted to show you I was serious.”

  “What do you want?”

  “At six o’clock, you’ll go to the town of Pleasant Ridge near the Utah border. There’s a turquoise house with a wreath of roses on the door. The woman inside is Muriel. She’ll tell you what to do next.”

  One of the behavioral analysts held up a sign, reminding her to get a fix on his location. “Where will you be? Tell me how I can reach you.”

  “You need to hurry to make it on time. Bring this phone with you.” His tone became more harsh. “Oh yeah, and come alone.”

  “What if I can’t make it? I need to know how to contact you.”

  “Do as I say. Or this bitch dies.”

  He ended the call.

  She stumbled back a step. Her knees were weak, and she sank into an armchair. If she didn’t do as Russell said, he would kill again. She had no choice.

  JUST OUTSIDE THE SMALL TOWN of Pleasant Ridge, Dash stared through binoculars at the adobe house painted turquoise. In spite of the wild color, this seemed like a very average household with a small barn in the back and a truck parked at the front door.

  He checked his wristwatch. Cara would be here soon. Had he really asked her to marry him? Yeah, that had happened. And he was glad. Now to get her to say yes.

  But he couldn’t think about that now. It was time to bring Russell down.

  They were following his instructions, but Cara wasn’t going in unprotected. Under her jacket, she wore a fitted bulletproof vest. She also had a GPS locating device, a microphone and an earpiece so she could communicate with Dash and the other three agents on dirt bikes.

  He spoke into his own headset. “Talk to me, Cara.”

  “I can see the house. What a god-awful color.”

  “He’s not inside,” Dash said. He and the other agents had gotten here earlier and checked it out, hoping that Russell would make a mistake and show himself. No such luck. “Take your time.”

  He watched as she parked beside the truck, got out of her car and walked up to the door. She knocked once and the door opened. Through the headset, he heard Cara say, “You must be Muriel. I’m Cara.”

  “You’re even prettier than that nice young man said. Come with me.”

  Through his binoculars, Dash watched as the plump, middle-aged woman led Cara behind the house toward the barn. Through Cara’s microphone, he heard the woman—Muriel—chatting about young love and romance and how Russell had paid her one thousand dollars to rent her horse for the evening.

  “Horse?” Cara’s voice was shaky. “He rented a horse?”

  The woman turned and pointed. “Just ride on this trail. It leads into Hovenweep.”

  “Ride? On the horse? I’m not good at this.”

  “Your young man seemed to think you were.”

  “Oh, yeah.” Cara’s voice quavered between panic and anger. “Everybody looks at me and thinks that because I’m Navajo I can ride. As if all Native Americans are issued a pinto pony and a feather headdress at birth.”

  “Never mind,” Muriel said. “You won’t have any problem on Lulu. She’s very gentle.”

  Through the headset, Dash advised Cara that she didn’t have to go through with this.

  Simultaneously, she answered him and Muriel. “I can handle this.”

  She was on her way.

  Hovenweep National Monument wasn’t as famous as Mesa Verde, but Cara had explained to him that many villages had been tucked among these canyons and arroyos. It was a good place to look for pottery shards and arrowheads.

  Dash put on his helmet. On his dirt bike, he followed her. The noise from his bike and that of the other two agents might alert Russell, so he kept a distance as he watched her ride slowly along the path. Her horse was a big dappled gray mare that would have been more at home pulling a plow than being ridden.

  Through his headset, he heard her grumble, “I can’t believe I’m on horseback.”

  “You’re doing great.”

  “It’s not so bad. Lulu is really sweet.”

  He quickly gave instructions to the other two agents. Stay far back. Make sure they weren’t seen. If anyone spotted Russell, they had clearance to open fire. All of these men were sharpshooters.

  Carefully, he maneuvered on the rocky hillsides, always keeping her in sight. It was dusk. After dark, it would be more difficult to maintain visual contact.

  He heard Cara through the headset. “It’s beautiful here. The shadows are a deep purple.”

  He wanted to tell her that she was the true beauty. As she rode steadily forward on the path, he admired her courage. Never before in his life had he felt such a deep connection to anyone. He would never let her leave him. No matter what it took, he’d make this relationship work. He wanted a home with Cara. A place where they both belonged.

  “I’m getting a phone call,” she said.

  “Hold the phone so I can hear what he says.”

  He watched as she yanked on the reins and finally got the horse to stop moving. She answered the cell phone.

  Russell’s instructions were simple. She should turn to the left after she crossed this wide stretch of open land. “You’ll see the place,” he said. “I marked it with an eagle feather.”

  Russell had chosen this location well. There was no way for Dash and the other agents to cross this long, flat stretch of sand and sagebrush without being seen. To maintain cover, they needed to go miles out of their way and circle back. They needed time. “Ride slowly, Cara.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “Remember what I told you,” he said. “When you see Russell, give a shout. And get away from him.”

  “Got it.”

  While Dash checked in with the other agents, positioning them across the terrain, he watched Cara click her heels against the horse’s flank.

  Instead of resuming a gentle walk, her mount took off. Cara dug in her heels again and shouted, “Slow down, Lulu.”

  But the horse went faster. Cara bounced on the saddle. Out of control. Through the microphone, he heard panic in her voice. “I can’t get her to stop. Oh my God, I’m going to fall off.”

  “Pull on the reins.”

  “I can’t.” One arm flailed as she tried to keep her balance. “Somebody help me.”

  He made a split-second decision.
There was no way she could handle this horse. She wasn’t an experienced rider.

  Leaning over the handlebars, he aimed his dirt bike directly across the open land. With all the rocks and ridges, he couldn’t go as fast as he wanted, but he was moving. Coming closer to Cara on the runaway steed. They were almost to the other side, near the sandstone ridge.

  Less than fifty yards away. Twenty.

  He felt a jolt unlike anything he’d ever experienced. He’d been shot.

  EVEN THROUGH HER PANIC, Cara heard the gunfire. Her fingers tangled in the horse’s mane and yanked. She bounced wildly in the saddle. Slipping to the left, she almost fell before she righted herself.

  The horse charged up a rocky hillside, and Cara tilted backward. Was this the place she was supposed to turn? As if she could.

  More gunfire. Too much was happening too fast.

  Lulu crested the hill and galloped down the opposite side of the ridge. Then, inexplicably, she stopped.

  Breathing hard, Cara slid out of the saddle and collapsed in a boneless heap on the ground. Talking to the transmitter hidden in her bra, she said, “Dash? Dash, are you all right?”

  Desperately, she needed to hear his voice. But he wouldn’t respond.

  She reached up and pawed through her hair. Her neat bun had come unfastened. The small plastic piece that had fitted snugly into her ear was gone. Somewhere in her careening ride, she’d lost communication.

  Struggling to her feet, she turned. And saw nothing. Not Dash or the other agents. Not Russell. Only the deepening shadows of this desert landscape.

  She was alone except for the horse, and there was no way in hell that she’d get back onto that animal.

  Moving as quickly as she could, Cara went toward the sandstone rocks, looking for a hiding place.

  DASH LAY FLAT ON HIS BACK, staring up. His Kevlar vest had taken the bullet, but the impact had been enough to throw him backward off his dirt bike. Every bone in his body ached. Through the headset, he called her. “Cara, answer me. Where are you?”