In Safe Hands (34 page)

“Seriously?” Lou demanded, rushing to round the counter. “And you didn't lead with that?” She grabbed Ellie, who lifted her coffee up out of the way just in time, and squeezed her tightly. “That's awesome, El! I'm so happy for you!”

When Lou finally released her and returned to her spot behind the counter, Ellie bounced on her stool a few times, grinning hugely. “I know! I can't believe I forgot to tell you until now. Poor George. I was so wired that I barely slept last night, and I kept poking him to wake him so I'd have someone to talk to about it.”

“That's great, Ellie.” Reaching over, Daisy grabbed her hand. “You could've called me instead of waking the sleeping beast.” She didn't mention that a call would've woken Daisy, too, since she'd been sleeping a lot more soundly recently.

Ellie laughed, a genuinely happy sound. “George was right there, so I just tortured him.”

The bells on the door jangled, and all three women turned their heads toward the sound to see Rory entering.

“Rory!” Ellie was the first to greet her. “My dad called last night! He's in Florida for some reason that he didn't explain very well. I mean, Florida? Really?”

A brief, but beautiful, smile flashed across Rory's face. “Good. He's okay, then?”

“Yep. He's even on his meds. We had a conversation that actually made sense.”

“I'm glad.” Rory took the stool on her right, and Daisy shuffled hers back a foot so she could see everyone without having to turn her head back and forth.

“Not that I'm not wildly excited that you joined us,” Lou said to Rory, “but shouldn't you be watching your store? The guns don't sell themselves, you know.”

“I was at the store.” She frowned, but looked more baffled than angry. “Ian walked in and said that Derek drove by and saw Daisy walking into the coffee shop, so he texted Chief Early, who mentioned it to Soup, who called Ian.”

Lou lowered her head to the counter with a thump that made Daisy wince. “This town.”

“Ian said,” Rory continued without reacting to Lou's comment, “he was going to watch the store so I could come here and have
girl time
.” She said the last two words as if they were in a foreign language she didn't know. “Is
girl time
really a thing, or is Ian pretending he knows stuff he doesn't again?”

Lou and Ellie snickered, while Daisy tried to keep a straight face. Rory looked so very bewildered.

“I'm pretty sure it is a thing,” Daisy said as seriously as she was able. “Not that I'm an expert, of course, since most of my knowledge of girl time has come from books and movies.”

“It is a thing,” Ellie confirmed.

Rory nodded. “I have something that I'm pretty sure is girl time appropriate, then.”

Three pairs of eyes fastened on her.

“Well, spill it,” Lou urged, propping her elbows on the counter and leaning in. “Don't make us drag it out of you. All that training with Deputy Chris has made us a bunch of badasses, so we could force you to talk if we need to.”

Rory was actually blushing, which made Daisy even more curious.

“Here.” Rory slapped a glossy brochure on the counter. All three reached for it, but Ellie was the quickest and managed to whip it away from the others' grabbing hands.

“What is this?” Ellie looked confused as she flipped it over. “Safe rooms? Is that like a panic room?”

Realization hit Daisy, and she shrieked and grabbed Rory's arm. The other women looked alarmed. “He actually did it?”

Leaning back warily, Rory said, “By ‘it,' do you mean propose? If so, then yes.”

It was Lou's turn to scream as she barreled around the counter for the second time. “He proposed?” She lunged to hug Rory, but then paused in midreach. “Wait. Did you say yes?”

Rory didn't look like she wanted to answer, but she finally gave a short nod. With another shriek, Lou dove toward her and hugged her hard, apparently oblivious to Rory's panicked expression and stiff frame.

“Hold on!” Ellie had to almost shout to be heard over Lou's expressions of happiness. “I don't get it. Did Ian propose to you using a safe-room brochure rather than a ring?”

“Yes.” Rory's face softened at the thought. “He said he was going to get me a gun, instead, but he figured I had plenty of those.”

“Congratulations!” Hopping off her stool, Ellie dove into the hug, turning it into a three-way. As Rory's expression changed from panic to resignation, Daisy grinned at her and wrapped her arms around the cluster of women, joining in the group hug.

Her laugh burbled out of her, sheer happiness making it impossible to hold back. If this was girl time, then girl time was awesome.

For more Katie Ruggle check out
the Rocky Mountain K9 Unit series

Run to Ground

On sale June 2017

Keep reading for a sneak peek at the first book in Katie Ruggle's brand-new Rocky Mountain K9 Unit series

Run to Ground

The new waitress was hot. Squirrelly, but hot.

Theo always got to Coop's early for the K-9 unit's breakfast and informal roll call. Those fifteen minutes before Otto and Hugh showed up usually were, if not exactly peaceful, at least a little break from having to hide the mess he'd become. This morning, though, he was distracted by the way the dark-haired stranger kept trying not to stare at him. Since she didn't seem to be bothered by anyone else in the diner, Theo assumed that it was his uniform that was making her nervous. He'd caught himself watching her four times now, and he'd only been in the diner for five minutes.

A mug thumped on the table in front of him, and Theo turned his frown toward Megan. They had a morning ritual: He scowled. She aggressively delivered his food and coffee. Neither said a word.

This morning, though, as Megan was turning away, Theo was almost tempted to break the silence. He barely caught himself before a question about the new server popped out of his mouth. Stopping the words just in time, he snatched up his coffee and took a drink, burning his tongue in the process. He set down the mug with enough force to make it almost slosh over the rim.
Shit.

Before Theo could stop himself, his gaze searched out the new waitress again. She was delivering two plates of food to a table across the diner. By the look of concentration on her face and the exaggerated care she was taking, Theo assumed she was new to waiting tables. She was definitely new to Monroe, Colorado. If she'd been around, he would've noticed her. There was no doubt about that.

As she turned away from the table, smiling, their gazes caught for a second before she ducked her head and hurried toward the kitchen. The uniforms at Coop's were designed to be more homespun than sexy, but Theo couldn't look away from the stranger's rear view. He knew he shouldn't take her avoidance personally. Theo had the feeling she would have the same flight response to any cop.

“Who's that?” Otto dropped onto the bench next to him.

Tearing away his gaze, Theo gave his fellow K-9 officer a flat stare. “Move.”

“No.” Otto stretched out his legs until his lumberjack-sized boots bumped the opposite bench. “I always sit here.”

Just for the past two months.
Theo didn't want to say that, though. It might've led to talking about what had happened, and he
really
did not want to discuss it. Still, he couldn't let it drop. “I'm not one of your wounded strays.”

Otto made a noncommittal sound that heated Theo's simmering anger another few degrees. Before he could rip into Otto, though, Hugh slid into the opposite side of the booth.

“Hey,” Hugh greeted both of them with his standard easy-going grin. “Who's the new waitress?”

“You're not going to squeeze onto this bench, too?” Theo asked with thick sarcasm.

Half-standing, Hugh gave Theo a too-earnest look. “Did you want me to sit with you two? Because I can. It'll be cozy.”

Several smart-assed retorts hovered on Theo's tongue, but he swallowed all of them. All that would do was convince Hugh to change sides, and they'd be uncomfortable and awkward all through breakfast. Behind Hugh's placid exterior was a mile-high wall of stubbornness.

Theo stayed silent.

With a slight smirk, Hugh settled back on his side of the table. “Anything fun and exciting happen last night?”

“Eh,” Otto said with a lift of one shoulder. “Carson Byers got picked up again.”

Hugh frowned. “That's not fun. Or exciting. In fact, that's something that happens almost every shift. What was it this time?”

“Trespass.”

“He was drunk and thought the Andersons' house was his again?”

“The Daggs' place, this time.”

“Wait. Isn't that on the other side of town?”

“Yep.”

“Dumbass.”

“Yep.”

Only half-listening, Theo let the other men's conversation wash over him. His gaze wandered to find the new server again. She was topping off the coffee mugs of the customers sitting at the counter as she listened to something Megan was telling her.

“I ran into Sherry at the gas station last night.”

Otto's too-casual statement jerked Theo's attention back to their conversation.

Rubbing the back of his head, Hugh asked, “How's she doing?”

“Not good. But what do you expect when her dad—”

“Let me out.” Theo cut off the rest of Otto's words, glaring at him until the other man slid out of the booth. As Theo stalked away from the table, there was only silence behind him—a heavy, suffocating silence. He didn't have a destination in mind except
away
, but his feet carried him toward the new server as if they had a mind of their own.

The woman watched him, her blue eyes getting wider and wider, until he stopped in front of her. They stared at each other for several moments. She was even prettier and looked even more scared up close. There were dark shadows smudged beneath her eyes, and her face had a drawn, tight look. Her throat moved as she swallowed, and her eyes darted to the side. Theo tensed, his cop instincts urging him to chase her if she ran.

When
she ran.

“Theo,” Megan barked in her husky voice as she passed, “go sit down. You're being creepy.”

He shot her a frown, but most of his attention was still on the new server. “What's your name?”

She swallowed again and tried to force a smile, but it quickly fell away. “Jules. Um…for Julie.”

“Last name?”

“Uh…Jackson.” Her gaze jumped toward the door.

“Where are you from?” He couldn't stop asking questions. It was partly his ingrained cop curiosity, and partly the personal interest he couldn't seem to smother.

“Arkansas.”

Theo called bullshit on that. While she'd said her last name too slowly, this had come too fast, like he'd asked her a quiz question that she'd studied for. He could see the tension vibrating through her, her body projecting the urge to flee. What was she running from? An abusive husband? The consequences of a crime she'd committed? “What brings you to Colorado?”

“It's…a nice state?” Her eyes squeezed closed for a second, as if she was mentally reprimanding herself for the inane answer.

Every glance at the door, every stifled flinch, every half-assed response just made Theo more suspicious. “You move here by yourself?”

“I…um…” Her hunted gaze fixed on Megan's back, but the other server was occupied with helping a little boy get ketchup out of a recalcitrant bottle and didn't see her pleading expression. “I should get back to work.”

“Wait.” He reached for her arm.

“Theo.” Hugh stood right behind him, and Theo felt his jaw tighten as his hand dropped to his side. Why did they feel a need to watch him like he was an unstable bomb? “Food's here.”

Theo didn't want to return to the table, didn't want to eat, didn't want to talk about Sherry or anything else. What he did want was to find out more about the new, pretty, squirrelly waitress whose name may—but more likely may
not
—be Julie Jackson.

Jules.

He was tempted to send Hugh back to the table without him, but what was the point? All she would do was keep lying…badly. Later, in the squad car, he'd try to run her name, although “Julie Jackson” from Arkansas, without a date of birth or a middle name, would give him enough hits to keep him busy for months.

He'd give it time. They were at the diner every morning. He'd have plenty of opportunities to try to get information from the newcomer.

Assuming she didn't skip town first.

Ignoring his screaming instincts—his curiosity—his
interest
—he gave a short, reluctant nod and returned to the table. He could wait for his answers.

Still, it was hard not looking back.

One Week Earlier

“Mr. Espina…” Jules's voice cracked on the last syllable. Clearing her throat, she forced her fist to release the crumpled handful of her skirt and tried again. “Mr. Espina, I need your help.”

Mateo Espina didn't say a word. In fact, he didn't even twitch a muscle. It was a struggle not to stare at him. He was just so
different
than his brother that it was hard to believe the two were actually related. For over two years, Jules had worked for Luis Espina, and she'd never, ever been this nervous. Luis was a chatterbox who wore a constant, beaming, contagious smile on his round face. His brother, on the other hand, was all hard lines and angles, glaring eyes and stubble. Even the tattoos peeking from his shirt collar and rolled-up cuffs looked angry.

Jules realized she'd been staring at him silently for much too long, and she had to hide her cringe. It had been almost impossible to set up this meeting with Mr. Espina, and she was crashing and burning not even five minutes and ten words in. As she opened her mouth to say who knew what, a bored voice interrupted.

“What can I get you?”

Although Mr. Espina ordered a beer from the server, Jules stuck to water. The meeting would be hard enough with all of her wits about her. Besides, the sad fact was that she was broke. Drinks were the last thing on her stuff-I-need-to-buy list. Lawyers were number one.
Good
lawyers.
Miracle-working
lawyers.

“I was hoping,” she said, “that you could give me a reference.”

There was a reaction to that. It wasn't much of one, though—just the slightest lift of his eyebrow and twitch of a small muscle in his cheek.

“Although I wasn't charged with anything, I lost my CPA license and all my clients when Luis was investigated.” The remembered terror and humiliation of being questioned by the FBI made her hands shake, and she clutched them together to keep them still. “I didn't give them any information about Luis's finances, though, even after they'd told me I'd be able to keep my license and my business if I did. My clients' confidentiality is sacred.”

Instead of looking pleased by that, Mr. Espina's entire face drew tight, stiffened into a hard mask. His voice was smooth, deep and as cold as ice. “Are you
threatening
me, Ms. Young?”

Horror flushed through her, turning her blood cold and then hot enough to burn. “No! No, God, no! I'm not an idiot! I mean, it was probably dumb of me to work as Luis's accountant when I knew he wasn't great at…well, coloring inside the lines, but I'm not trying to threaten you! I just wanted…”

The sheer futility of what she was attempting flooded her, and she started to stand. “Never mind. I'm sorry to have wasted your time. I'll figure something out.”

“Sit.” Something about his clipped tone made her obey before she realized what she was doing. “What do you want?”

“A job.” Once again, the command in his voice had her answering before she considered whether it was wise to be so blunt. “I know Luis would give me a reference and, well, new employer contact information, if he wasn't…” She paused, trying to think of a polite term. “Dealing with more serious concerns right now.”

Those dark, dark eyes regarded her over his raised beer bottle for a long time. Jules let him stare, determined not to break again. “You want me to hire you?” he finally asked.

“Oh, not
you!
” she blurted, and then cringed. “Sorry. That came out wrong. I'd be happy to work with you, of course. It's just…I have expenses, so I need to have more than one client—unless I find a single client with extensive accounting needs. I was thinking I could work for some of Luis's colleagues, since they'd probably not care about the whole FBI thing, as long as I know what I'm doing and can keep my mouth shut.”

Mr. Espina didn't hurry to answer her. Instead, he eyed her for another painfully long time before finally speaking. “Anyone specific in mind?”

“The Blanchetts?” she suggested tentatively. Most of Luis's business associates had been names on a computer screen to her. At best, she'd met a few in passing. “Maybe the Jovanovics?”

He choked—actually
choked
—on his beer when she said the second name. Carefully placing the bottle on the table, he sat back and closed his eyes for several seconds.

“So that's a no on the Jovanovics?” Disappointment flooded her. They'd been her best prospect. With their hands in what seemed like every not-quite-legal pie, their empire was huge. She'd imagined that the Jovanovics needed a good accountant—and a discreet one.

“It's a no. On the Blanchetts, too.”

“Oh.” Her disappointment was quickly heading toward despair. “Is there anyone you
could
recommend?”

“No.”

That single bald word made Jules's eyes burn with threatening tears. She wasn't a crier. Even as a little girl, she'd rarely cried. It was just that Mr. Espina had been her only hope of getting the kind of job she needed to afford the kind of
lawyers
she needed. Her tough, seventeen-year-old brother had actually
cried
on the phone with her the night before—cried and begged to live with her. Staring at Mr. Espina's expressionless face, she felt the last of her dwindling optimism being sucked out of her, leaving Jules hopeless and plan-less and heartbroken.

She bit the inside of her cheek hard enough to shock herself out of self-pity. This wasn't the end of her dream. This couldn't be the end. She'd keep fighting for her brothers and her sister until the youngest, Dez, turned eighteen. Even if Jules was broke and lawyerless, she'd still do whatever it took to get her siblings out of that house.

Jules stood as well as she could with the table in the way, and said, “Okay. Thank you, Mr. Espina.”

“Sit.”

This time, she managed to resist the compulsion to obey and moved until she was standing next to the table. Digging in her purse, she pulled out a crumpled ten and laid it next to her untouched water. Even though Mr. Espina hadn't been much—or any—help, he had met with her. Also, he hadn't killed her. The least she could do was buy his beer.

“Thank you for your help, but I need to go now.” She tried and failed to force a smile. “Job hunting to do.” She turned to leave.

“Ms. Young.” Automatic courtesy made her stop and look over her shoulder. “No matter what lawyer you hire, you will never get legal custody of your brothers and sister.”

Her entire body jerked as if he'd stabbed her. It wasn't only the shock of knowing that Mr. Espina—a stranger, and a terrifying one at that—was aware of her family's situation. She never allowed herself to consider that she might fail to get custody. Hearing the words out loud was more horrible than she'd ever imagined.

“How did you…
What?
” she wheezed, her hand pressed to her chest.

Mr. Espina gestured toward her recently vacated seat, and she managed the few steps back to the table and plopped down on the bench. Her knees had gone wobbly, and she knew she had to sit before she fell.

“As you said, you could've made it worse for my brother. I appreciate that you didn't.”

Her stunned brain didn't register the words for a minute. Confused, Jules stared at him. “Then why aren't you helping me?”

“I am helping you.” He pulled out his cell phone and tapped at his screen. Even the way he did that screamed aggression. Jules's cell chirped from her purse. Instead of checking the text, she kept her gaze fixed on Mr. Espina. “Call Dennis Lee. I just sent you his number. He'll get you what you need to take your family…elsewhere.”

“Take?” she repeated, knowing that she sounded dazed. The conversation felt surreal.

“Ms. Young.” His gaze sharpened as he leaned forward slightly. It was the most engagement he'd shown for the entire meeting, and she mimicked his posture before she realized what she was doing. “Your brothers and sister are not in a good place. You need to fix that.”

“But…” Her voice lowered until barely any sound escaped. “Kidnapping?”

“Sometimes you have to trust what you feel in your gut to be right, even if others are telling you it's wrong.”

The idea was overwhelming, terrifying, and wonderful, all at the same time. For years, through countless frustrating, futile, expensive custody battles, Jules had followed the rules. It had gotten her nowhere. Her siblings were still stuck in hell, and Jules was broke and desperate enough to work for criminals. Maybe it was time to change the rules. Maybe, if she started playing dirty, her family could win for once.

Maybe instead of working for criminals, she should become one.

“Ms. Young.” She was jerked out of her thoughts as Mr. Espina pushed a laptop case across the table toward her. Jules's gaze bounced from the bag to his face and back again as she tried to figure out what he was doing. “In thanks for what you did for Luis. He's a pain in the ass, but he's my brother, and I love him.”

“But…”

“Consider it a bonus that Luis never got around to giving you.” After dropping a few bills on the table, Mr. Espina picked up her crumpled ten and held it out to Jules. With numb fingers, she automatically accepted it. He slid from his seat and moved toward the exit. Jules stared at his back, too bewildered by the entire meeting to call after him. Instead, she watched as he walked out the door.

Refocusing on the laptop bag, she cautiously pulled it to her. It was lighter than she expected, and she lowered it to her lap before tugging open the heavy zipper. Inside was a bulky envelope.

Her teeth closing on the sore spot where she'd bitten the inside of her cheek earlier, Jules unfastened the clasp without taking the envelope out of the bag. The unsealed flap opened easily, and she tilted the envelope so that she could see inside.

Catching a glimpse of the contents, she restrained a gasp that would've carried through the bar and down the street. Instead, she made a small sound, part squeak and part sigh, touching the stacks of twenty-dollar bills with a disbelieving brush of her fingers.

Her heart was racing as thoughts ran through her mind, too quickly for her to make sense of any of them. The first thing she was able to grab hold of was the idea that she'd just been given a whole lot of money—most likely
dirty
money. Jules thought she'd accepted her decision to dive into a life of crime, but the sight of the cash shocked her.

I can't keep the money
, one part of her brain kept telling her. She barely knew Mr. Espina. For goodness sake, she still called him
Mr. Espina
. Who handed off stacks of cash like that to a near stranger?

Apparently, Mr. Espina did. She supposed that was one more thing she knew about Mr. Espina, then.

A hysterical giggle bubbled into her throat, threatening to escape. She swallowed, holding down the laughter that would only draw curious stares. Jules did not want any stares, curious or otherwise, right now—not when she was toting a bag full of dirty money.

Should she keep it?
Could
she keep it?

For her family?
Yes.
Yes, she could.

Mr. Espina's words rang in her brain, cementing her resolve. She'd wasted enough time, left her siblings in that hellhole for too long. It was time to do what she had to do, no matter how badly it scared her.

She resealed the clasp and zipped the bag with hands that trembled even more than before. Jules was surprised her entire body wasn't vibrating with nerves. Gathering the precious bag and her purse, Jules stood and hurried for the door as fast as she could go without looking like she was rushing to leave the bar with a bagful of money.

Once she was in her elderly Camry with the air conditioner running, the windows up, and the doors locked, she called the number Mr. Espina had texted her.
Dennis Lee
. Jules knew that if she didn't contact him immediately, she would talk herself out of it.

As the line rang, Jules tapped a still-shaking finger against the steering wheel.

“This is Dennis.”

The smooth tone took her off guard. Maybe she'd been watching too many movies, but she'd expected a “disappearance expert” to answer the phone with a barked
“What?!”
or even just a surly grunt. Dennis sounded like a college professor answering a call in his office.

“Hello?”

Jules jumped. “Oh. Sorry. Yes. I…um. I got your number from Mr. Espina. He thought you might be able to help me…plan a trip.” She winced. Her attempt at code made her sound like an idiot.

“Plan a trip?” Apparently, Dennis agreed with her; his words carried more than a hint of amusement. “I'm a travel agent now?”

“Well, I…” She trailed off, flustered. Did he really want her to tell him flat-out what she needed? Shouldn't they be on a secure line or something? Although Jules wasn't positive what a secure line entailed, she was fairly sure it didn't involve cell phones in a parking lot at five thirty in the evening. “Could we meet somewhere to talk about this?”

As she waited for him to respond, she felt a trickle of sweat follow the line of her spine until it met the waistband of her skirt.

“Let's take a walk,” he finally said, and her head fell back against the seat in relief. “Are you familiar with Collins Park?”

“Yes.” Glancing at the digital clock, she did some mental math. Taking the rush-hour traffic into account, she'd be able to make it there in about an hour.

“I'll meet you by the dinosaurs at six.”

“Oh, but…” Her protests fell uselessly into empty air. He'd already ended the call. Jules let out a pent-up breath and tossed her phone into the passenger's seat. Reversing out of the parking spot, she set her jaw.

She was going to do this. All her efforts to follow the rules had gotten her nowhere. She'd never get legal custody, and her brothers and sister
needed
to get out of that house. If she had to become a kidnapper to make that happen, so be it.