by Jenna Ryan
Gage took the interstate for a while. To make up some time and distance, she imagined. He played Reba for her and Charlie Daniels for both of them.
The Jeep did its job on and off the main roads. They picked up subs and soft drinks in a town called Primrose and, after narrowly avoiding an in-depth chat with the talkative sheriff, left via a rain-slick side road.
Tom called while they were making a fuel and restroom stop. The map Amber had Googled said they were still within the limits of the town.
“I’m glad to hear you’re on the move, Snowbird. And no, don’t tell me where you are. I’m calling because it occurred to me you had the right idea using Myra Pinkerton’s phone way back when. On the off chance Fixx’s people are somehow homing in on you through your cell, you need to ditch it in the nearest swamp. Use Gage’s instead.”
Pacing, Amber rolled her head to ease the tension in her neck. “I got the phone from the WPP, Tom. Don’t tell me now it isn’t clean.”
“It was clean as a whistle when you received it. But we didn’t put the bits and pieces of it together, and word’s getting louder that Mockerie has more than one person on his payroll. You have to figure he has an insider at the FBI, but it’s a good bet he has more in other departments. Bastard money-grubbers. I’m not saying you’re bugged, but in case you are, I think you should lose the obvious potential source.”
“We dealt with that source early on,” Gage said. “Or so we thought. It’s possible the network I hooked into has been compromised. I don’t know how good Mockerie’s tech is.” He handed Amber a candy bar. “Any word on Fixx or Mockerie’s current location?”
“Both were in Vegas as of yesterday. They’ve dropped off the radar since then. You got a whopping bounty on your head, little Snowbird.”
“So I’ve heard. How’s Sidney, by the way?”
Tom’s chuckle contained no humor. “Funny you should ask that question. Young Sidney took an emergency leave ’round about the same time you hightailed it out of Black Creek. He didn’t specify the ‘emergency’, he just up and left. How’s that for a coincidence?”
“Convenient.”
“Seems to me, he might have mentioned having a grandmother in New York once upon a time, though. We’ll see. Anyway, you watch your back, or have Gage do it for you. McCabe’s a good man. He uses good people. You take care and stay safe.”
She ended the call, glanced over. “Do you think Tom’s right about my phone?”
“Not necessarily,” Gage told her. He capped the gas tank. “But there’s no point taking any chances. We’re tracking Rachel, so hopefully we’ll get her back and there won’t be any more need for phone calls.”
“Where is Rachel? Can you tell?”
“The blip’s been holding steady for the past ninety minutes. Unless it’s broken, she’s stopped moving.”
“Okay, well I guess that’s good.” She stared at her phone. “Why did Tom’s call unnerve me so much? It isn’t as if you didn’t think the same thing, reconfigure my cell and the rest of my possessions before this.”
“Because straight-laced Sidney’s taken off?”“What if Rachel does try to contact me?”
Gage shrugged. “Pick your poison, Amber. We know where she is.”
“We know where her earrings are.”
“Poison,” he repeated.
They were standing on opposite sides of the Jeep’s hood. Although the rain had stopped for the moment, thunder continued to rumble in the background. Amber released a heartfelt breath. “Fine, smash it. You and Tom really have a way of…”
A blast of rifle fire cut her off. Gage vaulted over the hood, undoubtedly intending to get her on the ground, but Amber was way ahead of him. She’d already dropped to her knees.
“There’s no one here except you, me, and the station attendant.” She twisted her head around. “Where did that shot come from?”
Before Gage could answer, another blast shattered the misty silence.
Gage scanned the trees to her right. “Got him,” he said and gave her one of his guns. “Stay low and fire every two seconds. Aim for the cypress tree in the middle. That’s where he’s hiding. Or trying to. Big men with beer bellies don’t conceal easily or well. An officer of the law should know that.”
“Officer of… What are you talking about?”
Gage got in front of her as the next bullet whizzed by. “He’s a crappy shot, even with a scope. Think back, Amber. How many people have we met today?”
It hit her and she tightened her grip on the gun. “Primrose. Sub stop. He was going back to his car. He leaned in your window, all friendly and official.”
“Yeah.” Gage got ready to launch from his crouch. “The friendly, official, money-grubbing sheriff of Primrose.”
…
This whole fucking nightmare with Amber and Fixx was more than he’d been told and a lot more than he’d bargained for. Gage promised himself that, at some point in his life, he and McCabe were going to have it out. A down and dirty, fists flying, bones cracking, winner walks away free and clear fight. They knew each other too damn well, and that gave McCabe an advantage Gage wanted gone.
He wanted other things gone, as well, the biggest one being his feelings for Amber. She mattered, dammit, far more than she should. More than he’d intended or could handle. She muddled his mind and made everything cloudy and unfocused, any or all of which could get both of them killed.
Fortunately, his feelings for her right then were peripheral. His focus was straight ahead on Sheriff Asshole, who obviously kept an eye out for illegal opportunities on the dark web.
Intent on his quarry, the big sheriff continued to fire at Amber. She shot back and caused him to keep jerking sideways into the shelter of the cypress tree.
“Come on, you little beauty,” the sheriff muttered. “Come to Papa and make him rich as old Midas.”
Not today, pal, Gage thought. He’d crept up behind the man while Amber kept him busy. One more rifle blast and there’d be a gun barrel pressed to the base of the sheriff’s neck. “You’re gonna want to set that rifle down real easy there, Sheriff. What was your name again? Stroub?”
“That’s what they call me.” The rifle fell into a bed of moss and leaves. “Emmet Stroub.” Turning, the man bared his teeth in a pleasant smile. “And right behind you is my deputy, Arnie Skinner.”
“Hey, y’all.”
The tip of a rifle jabbed hard into Gage’s spine. Swearing softly, Gage tossed his Glock onto the spongy ground.
The sheriff kept smiling. “Arnie and me, we reckon three million bucks oughta take us and ours a good long way in this world.”
Gage watched the deputy’s indistinct shadow on the tree trunk ahead of him. “You won’t be long for this world, either of you, if you try to collect that reward. I know who you’re dealing with, you don’t.”
“Big talk,” the deputy drawled.
He was a lanky man, Gage judged, probably stronger than he appeared in shadow. Sheriff Stroub, on the other hand, was wheezing at the mere thought of so much money.
His piggy eyes crinkled at the corners. “She’s a looker, no doubt about it. Kind of woman that’ll catch a man’s eye every time. Caught mine eighty feet away and I was just glancing over at what I figured was a couple of tourists passing through our little hamlet.”
“Ad said she’s wanted alive,” the deputy remarked. “Didn’t make no mention of what condition she should be in. I’m liking that.” He screwed his rifle into Gage’s back. “Didn’t mention you at all. I’m liking that even more.”
“Now, you understand, we’re not murderers, not generally.” The sheriff waved a hand. “But when the occasion presents itself, well, what’s a man to do? Nothing personal’s what I’m saying here, friend. Simple fact is, you got something we want, and we’re gonna take it.”
“So which one of you is planning to kill me?” Gage asked.
“Oh, me probably.” The deputy snickered. “Old chicken liver there can’t so much as skin
a rabbit without turning fifty shades of green.”
Gage noted movement in his peripheral and swung around to face the would-be shooter. In the same instant, he had his elbow planted in Sheriff Stroub’s belly and a second weapon drawn.
The startled deputy whipped his rifle up, then immediately yelped and dropped it as his shoulder began to stream with blood. “What the hell?” He staggered in a half circle and went down on his knees. “You shot me, bitch! You tore up my shoulder.”
“Making you a lucky man.” Amber held her gun on him while he glowered at her. “I was aiming for your head.”
The sheriff panted with exertion as he endeavored to right himself. Gage’s elbow had knocked him into the cypress tree. From there, he’d toppled to the ground.
“Reach for that rifle and I’ll put a bullet right through your badge.”
“Your word against mine as to what happened here.” Bracing his hands on his thighs, the sheriff wheezed in a breath. “Best for all concerned we forget this entire incident.”
“Best for you,” Gage agreed. “Not for us. There’s rope in the back of the Jeep, Snowbird. Bring all of it. We’ll deal with these two and then I’ll contact McCabe.”
“What are you gonna do?” the deputy demanded. “You can’t truss us up and leave us here. Snakes live in these swampy woods. Big, poisonous ones.”
“In that case, you won’t want to move around too much. Stay calm and quiet, and maybe they won’t notice you.”
Amber returned with the rope. “Be grateful you’re not actually in the swamp,” she said. “Then you’d have to worry about alligators, as well.”
“Y’all are enjoying this, aren’t you?” the sheriff remarked in a testy tone. “That ain’t very charitable of you.”
Amber stopped tying the deputy’s ankles. “Seriously? You’re worried about Christian charity after what you planned to do?”
“Aw, well now, honey, that was just temptation getting in the way of my sense of decency. I’m feeling a mite less mercenary now.”
“First step’s always the hardest.” Gage caught the rope Amber tossed him. “Check the thing,” he said and knew she understood when she stood and pulled the tracker from her pocket.
“We should go,” she told him. “The rain’s starting again, and Corpus Christi’s a long way off.”
Nodding, Gage cinched the rope a little tighter than necessary around the sheriff’s wrists. He sent Amber back to the Jeep for duct tape while he texted McCabe.
Someone might or might not come before Stroub and his lackey worked themselves free, but however it went down, the two men would be out of a job, and that was all Gage really cared about right then.
After gagging them, he retrieved all the weapons and carried them back to their soon-to-be-history vehicle.
He kissed Amber before throwing everything in the backseat. “Timely shot, Snowbird. Semi-accurate and silenced, too.”
“It was in your pack.” She shrugged. “I didn’t want to make a lot of noise. The station attendant’s still cowering behind the counter from the first round of fire. I opened the door a bit to see if he was all right and I heard his voice under the cash register. He kept saying, ‘I didn’t see anything. Why would anyone hurt me when I didn’t see anything.’”
“I’ll let McCabe know about him.” Reaching into the back, he located a hammer, tossed her phone on the ground, and smashed it. He climbed in and started the engine. “Where’s Rachel?”
She checked the screen, frowned, and shook the device.
“Is the battery dead?” Gage asked.
“No.” She shook it again. “The battery’s at eighty-six percent. That’s not the problem.” Turning the screen toward him, she said softly, “The blip’s disappeared.”
Chapter Eighteen
“Rachel’s moved out of range.” He pointed the Jeep south. “We have the last location and her trajectory. We’ll find her again. Worse comes to worst, you can call her.”
“I can if her phone’s being charged. Knowing Rachel, it will be. Her cell’s a major lifeline, and she knows how to whine until she gets her way.”
“Can’t say I envy her captors,” Gage remarked.
“Envy no. Appreciate her whining, yes.”
Four hours and a great deal of boggy terrain later, Amber decided to risk that call. To her surprise, Rachel answered on the second ring.
“Where are you?” Amber demanded.
“In Hooterville, I think.” Rachel sounded simultaneously peeved and hyper. “Bobby Lee’s got a weird sense of humor. He’s older than me, so he’s probably just teasing, but whatever this place is, it’s hick and hokey. Where are you?”
“It doesn’t matter. Why are they letting you talk to me?”
“They aren’t doing anything. Bobby Lee and I escaped. He was supposed to be watching me while the others went off to play poker and drink. I told him about my stash of jewels back in Las Vegas.”
“You have a stash of jewels in Las Vegas?
“Of course I do, silly.” Rachel’s reply was overly bright, a sure sign she was lying.
When Gage arched a brow, Amber shook her head. “Okay, good, the jewels. Did you tell him about the gold, too?”
“All twenty-four karats.”
“Rachel, I need to know where you are.”
“We’re heading for New Orleans. That’s all I can say. Bobby Lee’s nervous, so we’re using a lot of back roads. You’ll have to get my jewelry to me in New Orleans, Amber. Promise you will.”
“I will,” Amber promised. “Have you stopped for the night?”
“Yes. We’re at a little hotel…”
“Called Shady Rest,” Gage put in. “Never mind.” He shook off the question in Amber’s eyes. “I grew up on sixties reruns. Ask her for the name of the last town sign she can remember.”
Amber relayed the question and received a grunt from her sister. “Oh, I don’t know. It was a really dumb name. Astor, Aspirin, something like that.”
“Got her.” Gage showed Amber the tracker. “She’s thirty miles south of Astrid.”
Relieved, Amber exhaled. “Rachel, stay where you are if you can. And keep your phone charged.”
“I will.” Her tone changed. “Oooh, that looks really nice, Bobby Lee. You got the tub all full of bubbles? Food’s on the table over here, and I’ve got the other goodies waiting. Night, Amber. Don’t you forget about those jewels now.”
Amber ended the call. “Well? What do you think? Is she running with Bobby or was that a setup?”
“My guess? She’s running. Question is, is she running away from Owen’s people? Or inadvertently pulling us into a trap.”
…
They changed vehicles again in Genoa. Bear’s friend helped them out as promised. He sold them a Range Rover SUV and even threw in a spare tire for good measure. Gage took Bear’s advice, doubled the asking price, and gave the guy an extra two hundred dollars due to the lateness of the hour.
“I feel like a vampire.” Amber sat cross-legged in their newly acquired vehicle. They’d taken on several mosquitoes as passengers, and she’d made it her mission to swat them all. It was either that or sleep, and she was too jacked up even to close her eyes.
Another two hours of bumping and bouncing, however, and her eyes seemed to have changed their mind.
They’d have to stop eventually. Gage looked even more tired than she felt, and that was saying something.
“Anywhere you choose is fine.” She fought off a yawn. “I don’t care if we sleep in the Range Rover at this point. I can’t think straight, and you must be ready to plant us in a ditch.”
His lips twitched. “I’ve driven into a ditch or two before. You don’t want to know how it turned out.”
Half an hour later, he surprised her by pulling into a hotel parking lot on the river. Some kind of convention appeared to be winding down.
“You’re in luck,” the harried desk clerk told them. “We had two early checkouts. Room 711’s ready if sleep’
s what you’re after.”
At one a.m., Amber would have expected most people to be in their beds. But that wasn’t the case at such a lively convention. She heard dance music playing in the lounge, slot machines dinging in the casino, and bawdy laughter rolling out of the bar.
“Flashback to my former life.” She had a Saints ball cap pulled down over her forehead and she’d made a point of staying behind Gage since they’d entered through the double lobby doors.
“Wanna try your luck?” Drawing her forward, he draped an arm over her shoulders. “Don’t worry. I’ve been watching the crowd. Most of them are too wasted to know who they are, let alone who you might be. Clerk didn’t so much as glance at you.”
“That’s because she was busy looking at you. Blackjack’s my game, if we’re playing. I might have thirty minutes left in me. I’ll be your muse.”
Gage shook his head. “Other way around, Snowbird. You deal with the cards, I’ll deal with the crowd. Poker’s my game anyway.”
She could believe that.
They walked casually through the casino, saw people dressed in everything from slinky dresses and suits to rough denim and flip-flops.
“Unless you wanna play three blind mice, you poison the little suckers,” a man behind them slurred. “Traps are for cowards.”
Amber bumped Gage’s hip. “We’re at an exterminator’s convention.”
“Keeps life interesting.”
“If you’re into pain and death.”
“I prefer quick and painless.” He drew her closer, turning her head away from a man who looked like a rat and almost teetered into her.
“Warfarin.” The man’s Adam’s apple bobbed convulsively. “S’rat poison, you know. My doctor prescribed it for me last week. Frigging rat poison in my veins.”
“Life’s all about overcoming challenges, pal.” Gage held the man off with a firm hand when he would have toppled into Amber’s arm.
She resisted an urge to chuckle and kept her head averted. No point testing her luck unnecessarily.
She spied a baccarat table through the crowd and, behind it, an open exit door. Three men stood on the threshold inside. One of them had a long, dark ponytail and a flashy stud earring.