Down and Dead in Even: (A Quick-Read) (Down and Dead, Inc.)

by Vicki Hinze

  Caroline looked him right in the eye. “Yes.” She liked Jackson Grant. He’d be perfect for Christine. Caroline wasn’t in the market and wasn’t sure at this point if she ever wanted to be in the market again. But he and Christine . . . they would be perfect.

  “Goon alert.” Nell grumbled. “Two o’clock.”

  Caroline looked over and, sure enough, there they sat, watching them. She let her glance flow over them and not stop, looking through the men and not at them.

  Jackson didn’t flinch or glance their way. “I told the hostess to seat them,” he told Caroline and Nell. “I wanted a good look at their faces.”

  Of course, he did. That inspired confidence. Jackson was able, competent. “Silly me. I thought once the divorce was final, I’d be free. Now I know that will never happen.” She turned her gaze back to Jackson. “So can you help me?”

  “Depends.” Jackson leaned forward, folded his hands on the table. “Will you trust me to help you?”

  “I will.” Having taken his measure, she said it and meant it. He would help her. She had no doubts about that.

  “Then have lunch. Afterward, we’ll leave here, I’ll take you to get your things and then we’ll get you to a safe place.”

  “Today?” Panic rose in her stomach. She hadn’t yet connected with Christine.

  “Today or not at all,” he said. “We don’t give the opposition time to plan or prepare.”

  She swallowed a gasp, warned herself to settle down. “Where is this safe place?”

  Jackson smiled reassuringly. “I’ll tell you when I can. For now, the less you know the better.”

  Surprised by that answer, she looked to Nell. “He’s right, hon,” she said. “Just trust him.”

  Nell knew the difficulty of doing what she asked. After Martin, Caroline likely never would fully trust a man again. Logically, she knew that an entire gender shouldn’t pay for one man’s misdeeds. But emotionally . . . her heart just wasn’t ready to believe it. After all, the betrayal of the one was by a man who had vowed to love her for the rest of her life.

  “Well, are you in or out, Caroline Easton?” Jackson sat back in his seat, relaxed, not rushing her response.

  “I’m in—and it’s Branch. I reclaimed my name and myself.” She gave him a shaky smile. So he had known her name after all. He too had given her room to disclose what she felt comfortable disclosing and had taken no more. Comforted by that, she lightened her tone. “So Nell says you’re a great chef. What’s for lunch?”

  He winked. “I’ll surprise you.”

  That comment left her with mixed emotions. Surprises weren’t exactly welcome in her life anymore, but she had to accept the fact that her life was changing again. No longer was it what it had been, and it wasn’t yet what it would be. Changing. Massively…

  FIVE

  CAROLINE PACKED IN a record twenty-two minutes and asked Alex to move into the house and stay put until otherwise notified. He agreed and Jackson gave him a special phone like the one she and her sister used to communicate with each other.

  Jackson warned Alex, “Don’t use it for anyone or anything else, and call me on it only in the case of an emergency. That said, if Martin pulls anything, I need to know right away.”

  Jackson also didn’t share his surname with Alex. Caroline was learning. He couldn’t share what he didn’t know. Noting both, she paid close attention to Jackson’s every move, what he said and didn’t say, and how he went about doing what needed doing.

  They departed the ranchette, taking only Jackson’s car. He had her hunch down on the floorboard. The goons hadn’t followed, so obviously they thought she was tucked into the house for the night. She noted that move, too.

  Jackson drove across Dallas to the eastern outskirts, and then pulled into a mid-grade hotel. “We’ll stay here until we leave.”

  After they checked in, he escorted her to her room. “I’m right next door, Caroline. Don’t call room service or use the phone. If you need anything, come get me. Don’t use the hallway, just knock. Our rooms connect. I’ll leave my door unlocked, just in case you need me.”

  “What time should I be ready to go?”

  “Three o’clock.”

  Surprised, she didn’t think to hide it. “Tomorrow afternoon?”

  “Morning.” He shot her an apologetic look. “It’s safer to move under the cover of darkness.”

  “Ah.” That made sense. Relief she wouldn’t be sequestered in the room long, she walked inside. “Thank you for everything, Jackson.”

  “You’re welcome.” He smiled. “Bolt both locks.”

  She nodded and closed the door, then slid the bolts.

  By half past three, they sat in a blue truck Jackson had someone pre-position at the hotel and headed away from Dallas on a maze of back roads. “At least there’s not much traffic,” she said.

  He glanced into the rearview mirror and then over at her. “There’s enough. They picked up on the switch.”

  “The truck?” Her heart rate kicked up a notch and she looked back. “Is it Martin?”

  “His men. The same two who were watching your house,” Jackson said. “I spotted them when I ran recon at the hotel after the truck was delivered. I didn’t catch sight of them when we were leaving, though.”

  That annoyed him. She heard that it did in his voice. “One of them must have been watching us. I didn’t call anyone—nothing. How did they find us?”

  “Desk clerk alerted them,” Jackson speculated. “Had to have been him.” He pulled out a phone, punched a button. “Can you type a text for me?”

  “Sure.” She took the phone. “Ready.”

  “Night clerk burned us. Notify interested parties.”

  She keyed in the text. “Any signature or anything?”

  “No. Just that.” He smiled at her. “So what are you going to do with this new life of yours, Caroline Branch?”

  She’d thought a lot about that. “I’m not sure. Half the time, I’m terrified, and the other half, I’m excited. I guess I’m being fickle.”

  “Understandable, considering the war zone you just escaped.” Jackson slowed at a train track. An apology laced his tone. “Nell filled me in on deeper details.”

  “I expected she would—for your own protection.”

  “It’s essential to your protection.” He spared her a glance. “I’m glad you had the courage to get out of that situation.”

  Courage? She didn’t feel courageous. “I’ve been out before,” she admitted. “It’s staying out that’s proven impossible.”

  Without warning, he stiffened, his gaze fixed on the rearview mirror. “You buckled up?”

  Odd question. “Yes. Why?”

  “The guys back there are getting a little aggressive. They’re positioning to ram us.” He checked her belt, testing that it fit tight. “Here we go.” Jackson hit the gas. Hard.

  “Oh, no.” Her body slammed back in her seat and stayed flush against it.

  Jackson cut a sharp, unexpected right, then an immediate left. He shot into a dark alley and stopped, killed the lights. “Stay here.” Hidden by a stout brick building, he jumped out of the truck and headed back to the corner.

  Gunfire rang out. One shot. Brakes squealed.

  Her heart slammed against her chest wall. What should she do?

  Before she could decide, Jackson jumped back into the truck and took off. He seemed calm. How could he be calm? “Is everything okay?” she asked, her mouth dust-dry.

  “Fine.”

  “Did you kill them?”

  “Two, with one bullet? No, I shot out their tire.” He grinned. “Not as much paperwork, and it’ll slow ’em down long enough for us to get away.”

  Relief washed through her. They were on Martin’s payroll, but they were just guys trying to make a living. For them, it wasn’t personal. They likely had no idea what Martin had done to her, or what he’d do to her if he caught her again. At least, for their sakes, she hoped that was the case. But thinking of
Martin raised a whole new string of worries. “May I ask where we’re going now?”

  “Even, Georgia,” Jackson said. “My sister and her husband live there.”

  “Is that your safe place?”

  “No, well, it is a safe place, but I’m not leaving you there.”

  Confused, she tried to tamp her curiosity. “Okay, then.”

  Jackson smiled his approval. “I had planned to be with them for Christmas. So we’re going to swing by and let them know what’s going on.”

  “I’m sorry to ruin your plans, Jackson.”

  “You’re not. We’ll get to see Rose and Matthew. I just won’t be hanging out there as long. Trust me, that’s not a hardship for them. They haven’t been married very long.”

  “Were you raised in Even, then?” She’d never heard of it. But all the Southern states were dotted with small towns.

  “No. Rose and Matthew moved there a little over a year ago.” He smiled. “This will be my first visit, which is why I don’t want to skip it.”

  “What about them being there amuses you?”

  “They settled in Even because when they drove through it, they figured even was their odds of being dead by dawn. To Rose, that made it a sign.”

  Dead by dawn? That bit of information alarmed Caroline. “Why? Were they in a situation like mine?”

  “Not really. You had to be there to get it. They’re good people, Caroline. They just needed a fresh start. So they moved to Even and bought a funeral home.”

  “They’re morticians?”

  “They are now.” Jackson smiled again. “I guess you can tell I am nuts about my sister. Her husband is a good guy, too. Actually, I knew him before she did.”

  “Really.” Caroline shifted on the seat and adjusted the air-conditioner vent. “Since you’re amused again, I’m guessing you played matchmaker.”

  “I tried more than once, but they were stubborn. I failed huge—they refused to even meet. No, God hooked them up all on his own.”

  “I’m glad that things worked out.”

  “So am I,” he admitted. “Rose and I grew up in foster care. She’s been mother and sister to me most of my life.”

  “I lost my parents, too.”

  “I never knew mine. Well, I sort of knew my mother for a while. She deserted us when I was three.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It is what it is. I had Rose. She, sadly, braved life alone.”

  “She had you.”

  “I was too young to be anything but a bother, but she treated me like I was solid gold. Still does.”

  “She sounds like a special woman.” The kind of woman Caroline wanted to be. When had she lost that desire, to be a blessing to people she loved?

  “So aren’t you going to ask me where your new home will be?”

  “I thought you’d tell me when it was safe. I didn’t want to nag, but I’d love to know.” She’d thought of little else in between crises. “When we leave Even, to what safe place will you take me?”

  He watched the mirrors and the road. “A beautiful one that’s perfect for what you need. Closed community. Top-notch security. Isolated. No one enters without a personal invitation.” He shrugged. “Well, except into the village. That’s where the people who live there sell their goods. But those not allowed are refused entry. Martin will be on that Do Not Enter list.”

  “What is this place?”

  “Sampson Park.” Jackson draped a hand over the steering wheel. “It was started by a woman in a situation similar to yours named Miss Emily. She and her daughter run it now.” He paused, then went on. “Actually your situation and Miss Emily’s are more than similar.”

  Comforting. She’d understand the concerns and fears that aren’t understood unless experienced firsthand. “How’s that?”

  “Your ex is a money guy. Her ex is a money guy—in the mob. Different, but when you get down to it, the men share a lot of traits and the same objectives.”

  He’d said personal invitations were required. “Can I get an invitation to stay there?”

  “They’re expecting you. Miss Emily is a friend of mine.”

  “What is Sampson Park like?”

  “Serene.” He smiled. “It has lush gardens, ponds, a little ranch, a village with cottages—you’ll have your own, of course—and an antebellum main house. It’s a huge, totally private place. Good medical facilities, counselors who can help you—whatever you need, Miss Emily has it or will get it.”

  “Including really good lawyers?”

  “The best. I don’t know if he’s on the grounds, but she has full access to him and his staff. Why?”

  “If I’m going to die, I need to redo my will and make some arrangements. I have a fair amount of assets of my own, and Martin’s threatened to have me committed for evaluation so he can steal them—again.”

  “But he can’t have you committed. Your divorce is final.”

  “If I’m incompetent, he can have the divorce set aside. But to do it, he has to regain control of me.”

  “Ah, his motivation is much clearer now. But don’t worry. We’re not going to let that happen. His days of controlling you are over.”

  “He’s probably moved heaven and earth to swindle everything he could wrangle already.”

  “Don’t worry about that, either. Dexter Devlin has a forensic accountant on staff that’s half bloodhound. He’ll handle everything.”

  “Did you say Dexter Devlin?” Caroline had heard a great deal about him. Martin had hoped Mr. Devlin would represent him, but Mr. Devlin had declined. “The Dexter Devlin?”

  “Yep. The one and only.”

  Martin would stroke out. Devlin was hands down the best lawyer in the country, according to Martin. And when he’d declined to represent Martin, he’d been in a devil’s mood for a month. Now the man would be representing her? Amazing. Absolutely amazing. “He’s powerful.”

  “Oh, yeah. ” Jackson chuckled. “Martin will regret anything he’s done that he shouldn’t have. I’ve seen Dex in action, and I pity those who mess with him. I’ll make an exception for Martin. He hasn’t earned pity. Regardless, don’t worry. Dex is ready, willing and well-able to deal with anything Martin might try.”

  “And he’ll represent me. Just like that?”

  “Just like that.”

  Curious. This man had powerful, unusual friends. He seemed so humble and modest and down to earth. Christine definitely would be crazy about him if ever they’d meet. “Why?”

  “He’s a good friend of mine.”

  “But he refused to represent Martin.”

  Jackson laughed. “Sweet. That should set the man’s teeth on edge.”

  “Oh, it will. Definitely.” She turned her thoughts. “Do a lot of people do this, Jackson? Die and start fresh?”

  “More than you’d think. But that’s not part of Sampson Park. It has a whole different purpose.”

  “Safety and healing, right?”

  “Pretty much. Most importantly in your situation, the park is isolated but not remote. Like I said, Martin won’t be able to get anywhere close to you—even if he should by some fluke find out where you are. Once there, you’ll be safe so long as you’re there.”

  “You have no idea how good that sounds.” Tears clogged her throat. “How long will I be able to stay?”

  “As long as you like. Weeks, months, or forever. It’s entirely up to you.”

  Stunned, she said the first thing that popped out of her mouth. “You’re kidding me.”

  “No, I’m not.” The look on his face softened. “What?”

  “I could have left him years ago. If I’d known . . . I could have escaped.”

  Jackson clasped her hand, gave it a gentle squeeze. “I believe that things happen when they’re supposed to happen for whatever best serves us long-term. I don’t know why you had to go through all that, but you’re out of it now and you never have to go back into it. That’s what matters.”

  “You’re right. I jus
t had no idea a place like Sampson Park existed.”

  “That’s why they’re safe, Caroline.”

  “Do they have all the normal amenities there?” Excitement bubbled inside her.

  “Basic necessities, yes. It’s kind of primitive in a way. No cars—they use horses and carriages—and, well, it’s a simple place for those in need of a simple life. It’s perfect for healing.”

  “I would love quiet and simple,” she said wistfully, then confessed. “The one thing I’ve craved forever is peace.”

  “You’ll be at peace there. Content, too. Nell agrees it’s exactly what you need, though she doesn’t know the name of the place, of course. I just told her what it’s like there to be sure it was right for you.”

  “That was very thoughtful of you.” She started to ask what state Sampson Park was in, but remembered his safety in not knowing remark at the restaurant. She’d find out in due time. For now, she had enough to dream on. Peace. Imagine it. Peace. A tear leaked from her eye. She covertly swiped at it.

  “You okay?”

  “Better. Honestly, better.” She sniffed. “Thank you for that, too, Jackson.”

  He smiled at her. “My privilege, Caroline.”

  SIX

  ON CHRISTMAS AFTERNOON, while Rose, Matthew and Jackson visited and caught up on their lives, Caroline slipped out for a walk in the woods to call Christine on their special phone. When she answered, relief swamped Caroline. Relief and guilt. While she’d been tucked away having a wonderful Christmas with Jackson and his sister and brother-in-law, Christine was only God knew where or with whom. “Merry Christmas,” she said.

  “Merry Christmas,” Christine said, her tone light.

  Taking that as a good sign, Caroline relaxed. “Tell me you’re having a good Christmas.”

  “I am. Really. I’m with friends and we’re having a great time. How about you?”

  Caroline kicked at a little twig, relieved. “Same here. I’m with a chef and his family.”