Risk of a Lifetime (10 page)

…

JB watched an oncoming vehicle hug the edge of the road to stay out of Marcy’s way. Her tires spit gravel as she veered onto the right shoulder. One wrong skid, and she’d be over the side of the drop-off. He gripped his steering wheel and synced with her on the swerves.

“I keep hitting the brakes, but nothing happens.” Marcy sounded lost. “What should I do?”

“Pull the emergency brake.”

“Nothing.”

Someone must have tampered with her car. Might be suicide on his part to venture into the oncoming lane, but better his than hers. “Try to stay in the right lane so I can come up alongside you.”

“What about traffic? You could get hit.”

“I’ll be okay. They got the other shoulder to run off on.” At least he hoped like hell they would.

“What about semis?”

The road was usually loaded with trucks this time of day. If one of them came around a blind corner, it would roll over JB’s vehicle like a bump in the road. “Do what I said, Marcy.”

“I’m having a hard time staying in my lane.”

Why had he let her drive? Her shoulder wasn’t healed enough to handle these curves at high speed. Her car had already passed seventy miles per hour. “Concentrate on steering. Stay as much in your lane as you can.”

If he lived through this, whoever was after her would wish they’d never heard of JB and Marcy Bradley. He pulled into the passing lane. “I’m coming around.”

He floored the accelerator and slipped around her car like she was sitting still. Settling about a car length in front of her, JB tried to think one step ahead. Didn’t take long to feel her driving rhythm. He chanced a quick look in the rearview mirror. The steel resolve on her face didn’t fool him one bit. Betsy didn’t look so good, either.

“I’m going to slow down till you’re only a few inches off my bumper. If I can jolt us right, your fender may hook on my hitch,” JB said.

“What should I do?”

“Stay on the road. If you feel us lock together, then follow my lead on steering.” He lowered his speed in increments. “Hang up, and call the police.”

“Already did from my phone,” Betsy said. “Cops have traffic stopped at the bottom of the hill. They’ll head up the minute they see us stop or…stop.”

“Good. Hold on.” Their bumpers brushed, jolted, jimmied. He increased his speed and tried the slow down again. Once more their bumpers rubbed like two stock cars on an oval race track. Still no hook up. “Stay calm. I’ll try again.”

He sped up, inched back within a foot, then slammed on his brakes. His hitch grazed over her bumper. Charged into her grill and the radiator. The two vehicles locked together as steam from the radiator poured from beneath the hood. As fast as he’d stopped, he laid tread as he sped up enough to ease the collision. A few seconds later, he slowed to a halt in the middle of the road.

Slamming out of his truck, he heard the scream of sirens as the police made the climb up the hill. “Pull the hood release, Marcy.” As soon as he heard the telltale click, he lifted the hood of her car. Yanked the battery cables free. The car shut down as radiator water gushed out on the road.

As he pulled the driver’s door open, he prayed she was okay. Her air-bag-scraped face was the most wonderful thing he’d ever seen.

“Are we stopped?” she whispered.

“Yes, sugar. We’re stopped.” He released her seat belt and guided her out. “You okay, Betsy?”

“Yeah. I think so. But I can’t get the door open.” Betsy’s muffled voice laced with pain.

“I’ll be back as soon as I get her to the side of the road.” JB carried Marcy to the grass and laid her down.

A passing downhill motorcyclist ground to a stop. “I got this one,” he called.

The man power-pulled the passenger door open and lifted Betsy out. She vehemently yelled that she could walk as he carried her over to the grass and deposited her next to her sister.

JB nodded and held out his hand. “Thanks.”

“Sure thing.” The man accepted the gesture, then jumped back on his bike and disappeared around the curve as the first police cruiser lurched to a stop.

Deputy Evans piled out of his car, resting his forearm on the top of the doorframe. “Paramedics are two cars back.”

“Good. Betsy needs one.” Marcy’s voice shook with her words.

JB stood, squared his shoulders, and directed his anger at the deputy. “You got the guts to tell me this is another coincidence?”

Evans shook his head, seating his cap as he walked in the direction of the survivors. “No. This was no accident.”

“You’re right.” JB knelt, leaning against Marcy as she bent over Betsy. “Damn right.”

Chapter Eleven

Twenty minutes later, Marcy’d been cleared by the paramedics. She walked over to JB and laid her hand on his back as he crouched by her car looking for evidence. He’d been inside the car, under the car, in the driver’s seat, the passenger seat, rear seat, and even on top of the car. She figured his next adventure would be in the trunk and under the hood.

Evans and Kennett worked the same sites, making notes as they went. Making more notes every time JB hollered out a comment. His under-the-breath mutterings went ignored by the police. Then Landon showed up.

“Heard there’d been an accident. Thought I’d see what I can do to help.” He reached to take the report from Evans, but the deputy jerked his notes from the man’s grasp.

JB stepped between the two men. “Back off, Landon. This isn’t your case.”

“Wilson assigned me to Crayton. I’d hate to have to arrest you for interfering with an FBI investigation.” Landon reared back and smirked with an air of authority.

Marcy watched JB’s veins bulge on his forearms and his jaw work its way into a set as he inhaled loud and deep. She took a few steps back. Her husband walked slow and easy in the man’s direction. Stopped face-to-face, toe-to-toe with the other agent. Not an inch separated the two men.

“If you know what’s good for you, don’t ever threaten me again.” JB pulled out his phone and pressed some numbers.

“Who are you calling?” Landon asked.

“Wilson.”

“You can’t. He’s got a new phone, and you don’t have access.”

“Yeah. Well, he texted me the number as soon as he got it.”

The agent looked perplexed and pursed his mouth to the side.

JB focused on the mouthpiece. “Wilson…you better get your man out of here before I send him to you special delivery… I mean, there’s been an attempt to kill my ex-wife today, and Landon’s overstepped his boundaries with the local police. He’s got no authority in Crayton except the robbery, and thanks to him, Leon’s out on bail.”

Landon grabbed at the phone. “Let me talk to Wilson.”

JB shoved his hand away. When the man reached again, her husband wrapped his fingers around the invading hand, then squeezed as he forced the man aside. “You got a phone. Use it.”

The man backed off, flexing his fingers to get blood flow.

“Wilson,” JB turned his back to the man. “Ends up the shooting, the bombing, today’s attempt… They’ve all been directed at Marcy. The local police will get to the bottom of this. And, since I’m no longer with the FBI, I’m staying in town ‘til this is settled. So, they don’t need Landon. Get him out of here.”

Landon pointed his finger at him. “Too far, JB. I’ve tried to overlook your almighty, I’m-right attitude. No more. You’ve gone too far this time.”

JB pointed right back at him. “We’ll talk about that later. For the moment, get the heck out of here.”

The other man left in a frightening huff, although no one seemed to care.

Like a switch had been thrown, JB dropped his anger and went right back to his investigation. She loved to watch his mind work, along with the force of his body, as he studied the crime scene.

After a bit, she returned to Betsy. The paramedics would head to the hospital with her sister soon. She’d probably request the sirens even though they weren’t needed. After motioning she’d be right back to her sister, Marcy walked over to the car.

A leave-me-alone look flashed as JB turned. The expression disappeared as he stood, replaced by one of concern. Deep-seated concern. Marcy was a little worried herself. What had she done to deserve these attacks?

He wiped what was likely a mascara smudge from beneath her eye, another stain from her cheek. “How you doing?”

“Okay.” She loved the way he kept touching her every time she got within arm’s reach.

“How’s your sister?”

“I’ll tell you how I am.” Betsy’s voice carried loud and clear across the roadway. “I’m bruised. I’m hungry. And they think I’ve got a broken arm.”

JB’s hand pressed against Marcy’s back as he guided her over to the ambulance where an Insta-Splint encircled her sister’s arm.

“Sorry about the break. Could have been worse.” He looked back at the conjoined vehicles. “A lot worse.”

Betsy motioned for the paramedic to incline the stretcher, then motioned the guy away once he complied. Waving JB over as if to share a secret, she flinched with the effort. “I’m not a fool. I know where Marcy and I were headed. Mama’d be missing two of her daughters if it wasn’t for you.”

He grimaced. “Sadie’d make my life a living hell if I let anything happen to one of you.”

“Thank you, JB.” Betsy hugged his neck as her voice broke. “Thank you.”

Nodding, he patted her shoulder.

She leaned back. “You ever tell anyone I hugged you, I’ll call you a liar to your face.”

He grinned and stepped aside. This was one for the record books.

The driver headed to the front cab while the paramedic hopped in the rear with Betsy.

Marcy stepped on the fender to get inside, too.

JB braced the door open. “I thought you were okay.”

“I am. I’m going with Betsy.”

“No.” He reached up and lowered her to stand on the ground.

“What do you mean no? You’re not going to tell me what to do.” She sidestepped him, trying to maneuver her way inside the ambulance.

JB grabbed hold of her arm. “I can’t protect you if you’re not where I am. That means you stay here until I finish looking this scene over.”

She pushed him in the chest. “Get out of my way. I’m going with my sister to the hospital.”

“Afraid I have to agree with JB on this one.” The deep, gravelly voice of Sheriff Davis, her uncle, entered the conversation.

“You’re back.” Marcy hugged the older man who’d put his life on the line for the past thirty-five years to get the riff-raff off the streets of Crayton. The same man who gave hugs and horseback rides to his sons and daughters, nieces and nephew, and now grandchildren through those same years. She bit her lip to control the quiver of pent-up tension. “Sorry you had to come home early from your vacation.”

“Saw enough sights. Need to work.” He hugged her back, then climbed into the ambulance and did the same with Betsy. Hopping back outside, he turned to JB and offered his hand. “Glad you got to town when you did.”

Sounded like her uncle had been expecting JB. She glanced back and forth between the two men. Seemed like what she didn’t know could fill a bucket.

“Good to be here, sir.” As he looked the sheriff in the eye, JB’s expression reflected the respect he felt for his mentor.

“What do you know about this FBI guy? Landon, I think it is.” Sheriff Davis pointed in the other agent’s direction where he’d taken up residence by his car for the moment. “Evans says he’s been getting in his way.”

Her husband looked at his one-time partner standing at the perimeter of the scene and narrowed his eyes. “The only case we ever worked together went bad. Funny thing though, he made sure he wasn’t there the day it came down. You watch out for him. I don’t know what he’s up to, but he doesn’t need to see the evidence.”

The sheriff nodded.

Evans waved to get the group’s attention. “We’re gonna load these vehicles up. Get ‘em back to the impound lot where we can get a better look.”

“I’m not finished with the car yet.” JB seemed torn between staying within arm’s length of her or finishing his inspection. He chose the car. “Marcy, don’t you dare get in that ambulance.”

Who did he think he was? She’d go where she wanted, and right now she wanted to be there for Betsy. Surely riding in an ambulance to the hospital couldn’t be dangerous.

Smiling, she nodded to JB as he waited for her acknowledgment. Once he raised the hood on the car and leaned across the fender to get a better look, she inched backward toward the open, rear door to the medic’s van. As she turned, she was met by the sheriff as he slammed the doors closed before she could jump inside. He pounded the side of the ambulance twice with a fist before they pulled away.

“I need to go with Betsy.” Marcy reached into the air as if trying to catch the accelerating ambulance.

Her uncle ignored the statement as he walked across the roadway. “Call Sadie. Tell her to get to the hospital.”

“I’m a grown woman who doesn’t have to listen to you. Sure as heck won’t listen to JB.” She tromped behind the shoulders she’d been hoisted on to get a better view of the Labor Day parade when she was nine. “I can take care of myself without you two.”

Whipping around, her uncle gave her one of his serious-as-heck sheriff looks. She stopped wide-eyed and edged back a step.

“You are a woman who came mighty close to meeting your Maker today, young lady.” He pointed at JB. “From what I gather, if it weren’t for that man right there, I suspect you would have. So until we get this all figured out, you do what he says.”

He didn’t wait for her answer, just stalked toward the entangled truck and car.

Marcy sighed. “You and JB are stubborn, bullheaded males.”

Without breaking stride, the sheriff glanced back at her. “Call Sadie.”

Everything her uncle said was true. Everything JB told her to do was for her protection. Everything about the past few days had ripped control of her life right out of her hands. She hated depending on others. Especially JB. If she wasn’t careful, he’d get the idea she needed him.

She watched him climb under the car one more time. A succession of Sheriff Davis, Deputy Evans, and Patrolman Kennett joined him one at a time. When he finally rolled from underneath and stood, JB clutched his arm against his side. She could tell yesterday’s injuries had been forgotten in today’s craziness, but his body still remembered. After examining the bag of evidence in his hand, he handed it to the sheriff.

JB’s gaze briefly locked with her own then he started toward her. She met him halfway.

“The sheriff’s going back to town so he can keep an eye on the vehicles.” He tucked a windblown strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ve still got some work to do up the road a ways, so why don’t you go along with him?”

Trust and tenderness surrounded her. “I’ll wait here. For you.”

His expression conveyed worry, tiredness. “Okay, but I want you to sit in Evans’s cruiser. Or at least stand beside it where you can jump in if anyone or anything doesn’t feel right. Understand?”

“I will. I promise I will.”

She longed to feel his arms around her while he told her everything would be okay. As if reading her mind, he pulled her against his chest and bent to kiss the top of her head. Her arms circled him, and even though he flinched as she brushed the big bruise on his side, he held her close.

For a moment, it was like old times. Marcy and JB Bradley, full in love. Where nothing mattered but them being together, even if the world around collapsed.

“We’re ready, JB,” Evans shouted as the tow truck pulled away with its load.

Releasing his hold on her, JB nodded to the men, and the hardcore set of his jaw returned. “You be careful of anyone you’re not really, really sure about, Marcy. That includes clients or anyone you get a bad vibe from. Anyone.”

She grabbed his arm. “Surely, my clients wouldn’t hate me this much.”