Bare It All (12 page)

Alice wanted to shoot him. Bad. “I’m making her my
concern.”

The girl fought back tears. “Ch-Cheryl.”

“What’s wrong with your arm, Cheryl?”

“T-t-tattoo.”

Disgusted, Hickson said, “Stop that goddamned stuttering!”

Alice scowled, and when the girl stammered again, saying,
“S-sorry,” she lost her fragile grasp on control.

Heartbeat thundering in her ears, she whispered, “I don’t like
you.” And with that, Alice pulled the trigger.

Teeth clenched and muscles bunched, Hickson gave a guttural
scream of agony. His body went rigid, bowing hard as an incapacitating pulse
overrode his motor functions, robbing him of any threat. It went on and
on—because Alice continued to squeeze the trigger. His knees gave out, and he
collapsed to the floor. Alice glanced at Cheryl. The girl covered her ears and
sank to her haunches, her eyes squeezed shut.

Seeing that put her on autopilot.

Using her left hand, Alice retrieved the restraints from her
purse.

The second she let up on the Taser, she was on Hickson, using
the nylon straps to bind his arms behind his back. She leaped away just as
quickly.

Cheryl whimpered.

Sympathy for the girl tore at Alice. She wanted to bludgeon
Hickson over the head, but if she did, she might accidentally kill him, and what
would Reese think about that?

Having a man in her life was proving problematic already. But
she couldn’t think about that now.

Her Taser allowed her to shoot three times, thirty seconds
each. She had to hurry or odds of them walking away would diminish.

She didn’t know the circumstances here, but she recognized
Cheryl as a victim, Hickson as a creep. He could have a cohort or a buyer due to
show up any minute. She just didn’t know.

On a slow breath, keeping that Taser steady on Hickson, she
withdrew another nylon restraint from her purse. “Cheryl, calm down.”

“Oh, God, oh, God!”

“I can’t get you out of here if you don’t help.”

That got her attention. She sniffled, wiped her nose with a
shaking hand. With wretched uncertainty, she asked, “Get me out? To go
wh-where?”

“Away from here.” After that...well, she’d have to figure it
out.

Hickson groaned, so Alice zapped him again.

His body flopped, jerked.

She let up and watched him slump boneless to the floor. Cheryl
wasn’t helping much, so she’d have to rely on herself. She went back to Hickson,
this time tightening the nylon around his ankles, under his pant legs. Luckily
he didn’t wear boots; she was able to get them really tight.

When she finished, she tossed a nylon tie to the poor girl
still slumped on the floor, now wide-eyed with confusion. “Cheryl, I need you to
attach his ankles to that pipe.”

Cheryl tripped toward a protruding pipe.

“No, the other one.” Alice watched her. “The wet, moldy,
dripping pipe.”

“Are you a...a cop?” Cheryl asked while looping the nylon
through the ankle restraints and around the pipe. There was barely enough
room.

“No, sorry.”

Cheryl hesitated. “Are you working for someone else?”

“I’m self-employed.” Her attention on Hickson, Alice watched,
ready if he moved a single muscle...

All he did was moan.

Cheryl threw herself away from him, doing a crab crawl backward
until she ended up in the middle of the disgusting mattress, her knees pulled
up, her arms around her shins.

Hickson was completely immobilized, far enough away from the
door that he wouldn’t be able to reach it. And cuffed to the pipe that way, he’d
have a hard time sitting up.

Alice decided she would leave him there until she formulated a
plan. On the desk was a phone, some change, a slip of paper with a number. Alice
gathered it all up. “Does he have a wallet?”

“I don’t know.”

Alice had no intention of getting close to him again. “All
right. Come with me, please. Quickly.”

Hickson groaned again as they sidled out of the room, being
sure to stay out of his reach. At the door, Alice peeked out, replaced the Taser
in her purse and motioned for Cheryl to follow.

As she hustled past the truck, she paused, then decided to take
a risk. “Wait.” She dug the small folding knife out of her purse, went to one
knee on the gritty, rough blacktop and cut the air valve off a tire.

If Hickson did find a way to get loose, he wouldn’t be driving
anywhere.

Her knee hurt as she stood again, but she paid it no mind.
“Come on.”

Cheryl followed as she darted back to her car, this time
crossing the field. Weeds caught on her clothes; disturbed insects swarmed
upward.

Alice tried to be vigilant, looking around for prying eyes. She
saw no one. “Does anyone else know about that place?”

Swiping at the mascara tracks staining her cheeks, Cheryl
hurried behind her. “Yes.”

She should have known. Creeps gravitated to each other, often
running in packs like wild dogs. “Do you know when they’ll go back there?”

Cheryl shook her head.

Alice said, “I’ll figure it out.” How, she had no idea.
Eventually she’d have to tell Reese. Or better yet, she could call... No. She
wouldn’t do that.

Maybe she could trust Rowdy. Reese was the law, and he saw
things as black-and-white. But Rowdy understood the fine balance between right
and wrong. He would balk at venturing into illegal territory—as Alice herself
had just done. For right now, Rowdy’s propensity suited her just fine.

As long as he didn’t tattle to Reese. Honorable men, she knew,
had this weird loyalty to one another.

Decisions, decisions.

She unlocked her car with the clicker before they’d even
reached it. “Get in.”

Alice circled around to the driver’s side while Cheryl crawled
in, her fearful gaze going everywhere, waiting for more hurt to come her
way.

Alice started the car and drove straight ahead, then took the
first left, and another. No one followed.

They were safe.
For now.

Beside her, Cheryl held herself so stiffly that Alice wondered
if she planned to leap out at any moment.

“What would you like to do? I can either take you to the
police—”

“No.”
Cheryl gripped the door
handle.

“Or,” Alice said, understanding, “I can rent you a hotel room,
or even put you on a bus.”

Cheryl fretted, unsure of her offer. “A b-bus?”

“No strings attached.”

A sob tore from Cheryl’s throat.
“Why
would you do this?”

“I want to help,” she said gently. “That’s all. I swear.”

Close to hyperventilating, Cheryl watched her. “I believe
you’re not a cop. But h-how can I be sure you’re not working for the
competition?”

“What competition?”

“The other dealers? A supplier?” She pressed into the door,
cowering. “How do I know you won’t take me somewhere and d-d-do awful
things?”

Drugs and dealers.
What awful
things?
“So this... It’s about drugs?” She hadn’t figured it that way
at all. Alice waved a hand. It didn’t matter, not right now. “Whatever’s going
on, I just want to get you someplace safe. I swear.”

For the longest time, the only sound was of Cheryl’s erratic
breathing. Alice pulled into more traffic, willing to give her time to think, to
compose herself.

Suddenly Cheryl ripped at the bandage on her arm. Her sobs
escalated as she exposed an odd tattoo, a design of overlapping numbers and
lines. “He marked me so they’d know.” She used the wadded up bandage to scrub at
her still raw skin. “That’s why I had to get the tattoo. Others will see it and
kn-know I’m carrying the drugs. They’ll know who I’m with, that deals are
made—”

“Shhh.” Keeping her eyes on the road, Alice reached out to
touch her arm lightly. “Please, don’t hurt yourself, Cheryl. Please.”

Defeated, Cheryl curled in on herself. “I want to go home.”

Relief took the strain out of Alice’s backbone. “You have
family?”

She nodded hard, eyes squeezed shut, lips trembling. “I ran off
from college. Everyone told me he was no good, that he’d hurt me. But I didn’t
believe them, and I ran off with him and n-now my parents are probably—”

“Worried sick,” Alice finished for her. “That was him I met?
Hickson?”

“No.” She shuddered in revulsion. “He’s just the guy who gets
us tattooed.”

Us.
More than one girl? “Do your
parents live far away?”

“A few hours.” Cheryl scrubbed at her eyes, wiped her nose.

Driving one-handed while she reached into her purse, Alice
produced a pack of tissues. “Use the visor and try to clean yourself up.”

Cheryl sobbed a rough laugh. “Do you have everything in that
purse?”

Everything she might need. “I like to be prepared.”

Alice knew what to do now, and that shored up her courage. She
drove toward the bus terminal. “I’ll get you on a bus, with enough money for a
cab from the station, and you’ll be home before nightfall. It’ll be okay. I
promise.”

Thank God, this time she could make a difference.

Maybe a big difference. Alice glanced at her. “While I drive,
tell me everything, please. Especially about that tattoo.”

* * *

F
URIOUS
, R
OWDY
HUNG
back in the churchyard, watching through
binoculars as Alice went into the bus station with a bedraggled woman who looked
to be young: nineteen, maybe twenty. Slim, pretty, but now with swollen red eyes
and blotchy cheeks.

What was Alice up to?

After falling behind, it had taken him a few moments to locate
her again. To expedite his search, he’d pulled into a quaint stone church
sitting atop a rise that overlooked the rest of the area. Using binoculars, he’d
spotted her car, then located her at the motel just as she’d hauled ass out of
the place with the other woman. Thinking she ran from someone, Rowdy started to
rush to her rescue—but his alarm had faded when Alice paused long enough to
sabotage the truck tire.

No one in hot pursuit.

Settling back, he’d watched her high-step across an overgrown
lot that probably hid snakes, rats and too many insects to count. He tracked her
as she drove through the neighborhood, circled around and headed toward the
highway. He thought she’d finally be heading home, plus one passenger, until she
pulled into the bus station.

Confusing.

Twenty minutes later, Alice emerged alone. Sun glinted off her
brown hair—had she done something with it? It looked different. Rowdy rubbed his
chin, still on high alert.

She smiled as she slipped on sunglasses and—after checking the
backseat of her car—unlocked it and got in.

Undecided for only a moment, Rowdy pulled out his cell phone
and thumbed her number before she could leave the lot.

“Hello?”

She sounded breathy, probably on an adrenaline rush. He shook
his head. “It’s Rowdy.”

“Rowdy?” And just like Alice, she asked, “Are you okay? Is
anything wrong?”

All kinds of things were way wrong, but he’d save that for a
face-to-face. “Go back into the bus station and wait for me there.”

“Go...” She twisted around in her seat. “Where are you?”

“I’m where I can keep eyes on you. Now hustle your ass back
inside and stay put. I’ll be there in less than half an hour.”

Silence. Alice got out of her car, shielded her eyes from the
sun and searched the area. “Did you watch me as I shopped with your sister?”

“Why?”

“I felt someone.”

Damn. For the second time in their short acquaintance, he
wondered if he was slipping.

“Rowdy? Why are you following me?”

“Inside, hon. I’ll explain when I get there.”

Even from a distance, looking through field binoculars, Rowdy
saw her frown. “I don’t like taking orders from you.”

“Would you rather take them from the police?” He saw her go
still. “Maybe from Detective Reese Bareden?”

“That’s blackmail!”

“Whatever it takes.” He and Reese had a deal, so Rowdy would
end up telling him, anyway. Whether Alice realized that yet or not, it was a
moot point.

As he said, whatever it took.

Head down, she turned a stiff circle, probably scheming, trying
to think up options.

“Make a decision, Alice.”

“Fine!” She relocked her car. Stride stiff, she marched toward
the station entrance. “I’ll be inside.”

“Fine,” he repeated back to her, and damned if he didn’t have
to fight a smile. “See you soon.” Rowdy disconnected the call, but watched until
he saw Alice reenter. He waited a few seconds more to see if she’d come right
back out.

She stayed put.

And good thing, because his gut told him to get back to that
motel, to stake it out, so that’s what he did. Just as he’d observed Alice, he
watched the motel—from a safe distance away, this time inside a condemned house,
up on the second story.

The floor trembled under his feet, almost as if it’d give out
any minute. But he’d been in worse places.

Hell, he’d lived in worse places.

He’d give it a few minutes, not long because he didn’t want to
leave Alice unprotected. But if someone showed up, he didn’t want to miss
it.

Every so often, he checked the perimeter. No way did he want to
get caught spying on...whatever the hell she’d gotten into. Best to keep his
guard up.

He was about to call it quits when a black SUV approached the
dilapidated building. Two average-looking lowlifes went inside.

They wore jeans and printed T-shirts and both were armed.

One came right back out, scoping the area, cell phone in hand
while he made an urgent call. Rowdy couldn’t hear from this distance, but he
didn’t need to be a lip reader to pick up on the fury.

Finally the other two joined him. The one he hadn’t seen before
rubbed at his wrists. He looked waxy from pain, walking unsteadily.