THE MARINE'S LAST DEFENSE (11 page)

Bree kept the bedroom door cracked a fraction, trying to listen after Jake let his friend into the apartment. They spoke too low. She couldn’t get a glimpse of what the other marine looked like, just the large black bag Jake set on the floor and the five or six bills that he counted into the other man’s extended hand.

The puppy whined. “Shh, girl, we’ll be okay.”

We have to be.

She didn’t know Jake well and he’d just admitted that he probably wasn’t returning to law enforcement. Could she really trust that he wasn’t after the money?

Whatever his motives, she had to take advantage of his help to free her family and waltz around the hot attraction that sizzled with each look.

Chapter Fourteen

Jake berated himself for not checking the weather before leaving Dallas. Once they’d gotten north of Fort Worth, it had begun snowing hard. He hadn’t thought too much about a snow flurry at the apartment. He’d driven through them before. No big deal. They had food and a full tank of gas.

Two hours north and he was barely moving twenty miles per hour down the highway. They followed the few drivers brave enough or foolish enough to keep pushing forward. But now even those cars were exiting to a closed gas station.

“Need some coffee?” Bree stretched awake from the sound sleep she’d needed. “Oh, they don’t look open.”

“Afraid we’re stuck here awhile.”

“But we can’t stop. We don’t have time.”

“I can’t see the road any longer. Not to mention the ice already on the bridges.” He was physically tired of driving through the crosswinds hitting the truck. And when he was this exhausted, he could lose control. He wouldn’t let that happen. He knew how to avoid that dark place.

“But—”

“Look, I want you to get there ASAP. I don’t feel comfortable helping you escape from the Dallas P.D., but I realize this is the best solution for you, me and your family. I also want us to get there alive. Everyone’s pulled off of 287.” He slipped his gloves on, immediately regretting the harshness he’d used to speak to her. “I’m going to check with the truck driver we were following. See if he received word about road conditions or if he was just tired of fighting this wind.”

He pulled the keys. Dallas popped her head up when the cab light came on. “Stay.”

“Do you really think we’d try to go anywhere?” Bree asked.

“I was talking to Dallas.”

“Right. Want to cuff me again?”

He closed the door without letting the wind slam it shut. It was tense enough in the truck just driving. He didn’t need the wrath of a woman to aggravate the situation. The snow didn’t fall as much as it slammed against his exposed skin. He quickly zipped his jacket and pulled the collar up around his neck.

“This dang wind makes this morning’s walk in the snow feel warm.”

In the military police, he hadn’t been in the middle of many blizzards and sure hadn’t faced them in east Texas, where he’d grown up. That gut-wrenching instinct told him this wasn’t a normal snowstorm. He had a very bad feeling they’d be stuck until morning. If not here, then along the road away from any town or cell reception.

The wind gusted enough to blow him sideways as he walked. He wasn’t a lightweight and had to shield his face with his hand to see the vehicles in front of him. The tire tracks of the car that they had pulled off with were almost gone. As he passed, he noticed the man inside was alone and bundled into a sleeping bag in the backseat.

Jake jogged as best as he could to the big rig and tapped on the door. The driver gestured through the closed window for him to go around to the other side. When he got there, the door was cracked open and he climbed up. He was greeted by a very large man holding a wooden bat.

“A. B. Mills. You need something?”

“Jake Cra—Crain.” He caught himself before using his real name. “I was wondering if you had news of road conditions into Amarillo?”

“Slow going and icy bridges to Wichita Falls. Not much movement west on I-40 right now. No rescue vehicles can get through the storm. Everyone’s hunkered down and there’s talk they’ll close the highway. You might have better luck waiting it out till morning. That’s my plan.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“You in the car or the truck?” A. B. Mills never put the bat down. He just kept tapping or twisting it in his palm, sending a very loud message not to mess with him.

“Truck. Guy in the car’s already camping there.”

“In a hurry to make Amarillo?”

“As a matter of fact, yeah. Family emergency.”

“Your truck got four-wheel drive? If so, get you some weight in the back end and you won’t slide around as much. Slow and steady. You might hit I-40 in five or so hours.”

“Thanks. I better get back and let my...wife know.”

“Just pick you up a couple of logs or something like that. Good luck.”

“Thanks again.” Jake braced himself for the blast of cold.

He and Bree weren’t completely unprepared to stay on the side of the road. They had coats and gloves. But the only blanket belonged to the dog. There was no extra gas if they stayed put and ran the truck’s heater to stay warm. Being one swing away from striking out was wearing a bit on his nerves.

He’d come up with a plan, got MacMahan to bring him every piece of electronics he could think of...but hadn’t followed through each time he’d begun to check the friggin’ weather.

Walking between vehicles was so cold, the truck seemed like a hothouse to him by the time he sat inside. Dallas was curled in a tight ball and his prisoner shivered. He quickly started the engine and put the heater on high.

“Sorry about that. I should have left the truck running.”

“I don’t blame you. If you’d left the keys, you might be hitching a ride with one of the other drivers.”

“Is that a warning that you need to be handcuffed to the steering wheel from now on?”

“Not hardly. As much as I want to do this on my own, I know I can’t. Did the trucker know anything?”

He repeated the information he’d received and Bree visibly reacted the way he felt. “We can’t wait here all night. Jerry’s usually in Amarillo every Sunday. We’ll miss him if we’re not there. He’s a trucker. He leaves tomorrow night.”

“Whoa, wait a minute. Who’s Jerry and why do we need to meet up with him? The plan’s to collect the money from your uncle.”

“Uncle Jerry hid the money. That’s why I needed the phone. He’s the only person who knows I’m still alive.”

“You gave a truck driver almost two million dollars to hide? Man alive.” He threw his cap and gloves onto the backseat. “You really think he’s just going to hand it back over?”

“He’s my mom’s brother.” She rubbed her hands together in front of the heater vent. “He kept the money safe.”

Should he explain human nature to her and how unlikely a prospect it was that this man still had the money? “Is there a particular reason you waited until now to tell me?”

“Maybe because of the way you’re reacting. Are we staying here or driving?”

“Going. But it won’t be fun.”

“As if any of today has been?”

“You have a point.” He understood her sarcasm better than anyone else who’d been a part of their day. He slammed the truck into Drive. The spinning tires emphasized more than just his frustration. “The ice is going to be a problem.”

“Would you like me to drive? I was raised here in the Panhandle. I’m used to it.”

He shot her a look like she might be crazy. She wasn’t watching him, just the road. She was serious. Maybe she wouldn’t attempt an escape. That didn’t mean he’d let his guard down. This woman had a habit of slipping away from him when he turned his back. Or worse, she’d slipped under his radar and broken his personal perimeter.

“I’ll tough it out. Is there anything else I should know before we get to Amarillo?” Jake’s foot itched to go faster, but twenty to thirty miles per hour was all the truck could manage without sliding across both lanes.

“I’m not sure.” Bree clicked the radio to AM and pushed the scan button. It landed on excited, rapid talking. Spanish news.

He didn’t speak Spanish and opened his mouth to tell her, but she shushed him, turning the faint station irritatingly louder. Dallas perked up, paws on the seat. Bree coaxed her over the top and had her head quickly dropping onto her lap.

Bree turned the radio off and leaned back. She was deep in thought somewhere and wasn’t eager to share what she’d deciphered.

“Did you understand any of that?” he asked.

“I can pick out the major words and assume enough to fill in the blanks.”

Patience wasn’t his virtue, but he waited. Both hands on the wheel to keep the wind from blowing the truck into the ditch. There hadn’t been any lights in the past mile. Visibility was down to almost nothing. No headlights. No taillights. No points of light indicating a small town.

“What’s the verdict?”

“As best as I can understand, there’s a whiteout in Amarillo. All the traffic’s been diverted off Interstate 40 and they’re warning people to get to safety.”

The rear of the truck slid back and forth for several seconds as they passed over another iced bridge. “Maybe that’s what we should do.”

Bree seemed to handle sliding across the highway well. She gripped Dallas with one arm and the safety handle with her other. If she was panicky, there wasn’t any outward sign.

“We can’t turn back. Please. We have to keep trying or they’ll—”

“Kill your family. I know. But if we’re in an accident, there’s even less chance of helping them. Our best shot is to call the local cops and get your family to safety.”

“You know that won’t work.”

“I know you
think
these men—whoever they are—have someone on the payroll, but every cop in Amarillo can’t be. The odds of something like that happening—”

He saw the fright in her eyes and released his right hand to cover hers. A second, maybe two, and they were careening onto the grassy median. Black ice under the fresh snow or another gust of wind sent them onto the icier shoulder and began the spin.

Jake pumped the breaks and steered into the turn, but it didn’t help. They were out of control and could only pray nothing like a ditch, concrete barrier or parked car got in their way.

“Brace yourself.”

* * *

B
REE
HAD
BARELY
wrapped an arm around Dallas to hold her steady before latching onto the shoulder strap. The truck spun and she closed her eyes, unwilling to watch their out-of-control fate. The sickening feeling lessened as the truck slowed to a stop and she realized they’d come out unscathed.

They hadn’t hit anything, hadn’t rolled over and were barely in a ditch. Jake released the steering wheel, put it in Park, rubbed his neck and extended his arms to the ceiling as if he was on a long-overdue break.

“You and Dallas okay?” he asked while stretching his neck from side to side.

“I think so.” The pup was shaking but stayed in her lap. “My heart thinks it’s still spinning in circles, though.”

Jake’s laugh was full of tension but warmed her.

“We’re turning back and that’s the last word. It’s too dangerous, Bree.”

He sounded final and she couldn’t think of a thing to change his mind. The only thoughts filling her brain were of those maddening, murderous eyes and what they’d do to her family.

The truck inched forward, Jake slowly gave it gas and, miraculously, they weren’t stuck. If it were possible to go slower than he’d already been driving, he did. The snow obscured everything in front of them and she had no idea how Jake could see well enough to keep on the road.

“We’ll return to the parking lot and call or use the trucker’s CB for assistance. Worst-case scenario is we wait until the peak of the storm passes.”

“Maybe the storm’s not as bad west of here. We could go back to Decatur and try west to Lubbock, then north to Amarillo?”

Jake released a long sigh filled with the frustration she felt down to her frozen toes.

The shrill ring of an old-fashioned telephone had her and Dallas jumping in their seats. She seemed to be sitting on the receiver, but it wasn’t possible. Both phones were on the dashboard, where he’d tossed them after talking to the trucker.

“How did you get a cell past me?” he accused. “Hand it over. Now.”

“I didn’t and I don’t have one. It has to be them. They’re watching us, just like they said, and they know we’ve turned around.”

“That’s impossible. There’s not another car around for miles. Nothing’s moving on these roads.”

He guided the truck to the shoulder of the highway and cut the engine. She set Dallas back in her dog bed between them, unbelted and had to dig through several items under the seat. It was hard to see, but the phone lit up when it rang.

“Here it is.”

“Got it.” He took the cell from her extended hand. “Look, Bree. Whatever I say to them, remember I’m on your side. I give you my word. If they can call us, that means we can call the authorities to get your family protection.”

His fingertips and palm absorbed her racing pulse without calming her in the least. She knew the voice on the other end of that ring. And also knew that Jake couldn’t keep that promise no matter how much he tried.

Griffin’s men already had her family or they would have answered their phones. Three cells and a house phone wouldn’t all be out because of the blizzard. She knew they had been abducted.

“This is Craig,” he answered on speaker.

“You go back, her family dies.” The voice from her nightmares coldly commanded. “The phone stays with you or her family dies. We’ll stay in touch.”

He disconnected.

The screen lit again and Jake mumbled some words she’d like to shout in the face of the man who haunted her.

“What is it?” she asked. Fearful tears blurred her vision and prevented her focusing when he flipped the phone around for her to see.

“I assume this is your family?”

She wiped her eyes, wanting to stay hidden behind her palms, but she had to answer. The small image took shape. She nodded, recognizing the small porch leading up to the old front door that her mother painted red at the beginning of each new year. Red for prosperity and good fortune.

But in front of the door, her family were on their knees in the snow. Hands zip-tied, no coats or winter protection and completely helpless with three guns pointing at their heads.

“The snow is barely covering the ground. The radio said it’s been snowing hard since three this afternoon. When Griffin found out I didn’t have the money...he said he’d do this.”

Jake touched the screen of the cell. “Dammit, password protected. I can’t call them or turn the GPS off.” He flipped the phone to remove the cover.

“Please don’t. They need to know exactly where we’re at. We should get moving. Now.”

“I still think we should call the Amarillo P.D.”