THE MARINE'S LAST DEFENSE (17 page)

What?

“You let her go and she’ll be dead as soon as she’s out of your sight.” Jake placed his body between her and the officer again. “Is that your game? You the cop who switched the dental records?”

“Funny you should mention that, Detective Craig. Since the explosion last summer, I’ve been working with state investigators on a joint task force.” He sat on the edge of a table next to the wall. “They’ve suspected that Griffin Tyler has been involved in racketeering and money laundering for a while, especially after Sabrina’s suspicious death. We found a couple of our officers who were a little too cozy with Tyler and have our eye on them, too. If you’re willing to testify, we might be able to drop any charges that apply.”

“You’ve got the wrong—”

“Jake.” She tried to tug him to face her. She took a step next to him when he refused to look anywhere but at the man he considered a threat. “I’m standing right here and very capable of speaking for myself. I’m not guilty of anything except running.”

“Are you willing to cooperate?”

“I’m willing to do anything. But first, I need to find my family. Griffin is holding them hostage in exchange for money I took when I left.”

“That explains a lot.” He looked at Jake. “Doesn’t look like the roads will be clearing anytime soon. I assume you want to see this through?”

Jake stuck his hand forward and Kyle shook it.

“Where’s your task force?” Jake asked. “Once we place the call, we’ll want to move quickly.”

“You’re looking at it. Things are a little different out here, Detective.”

Jake pivoted and thrust his hand into his hair. Then his eyes locked with hers and he grabbed her shoulders. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” And she did. If they’d been alone she would have admitted how sorry she was for thinking the worst of him. He’d defended himself and her. Anyone would have done the same.

“My idea’s simple. Draw them out, see if we can’t get a confession and find out who they’re working for,” Jake said to the officer.

“You don’t know?” Kyle asked her.

“I didn’t know—”

“She wasn’t—” Jake began at the same time, but her hand on his arm stopped him. She did her own questioning glance to see if he’d let her continue.

“I survived because I overheard them planning to blow up the clinic. I’ve tried to put things together—like a list of clients who don’t exist or have never had pet surgeries. I’ll turn over everything just as soon as my family’s safe.”

“I’d have to go through the department to obtain the equipment necessary for what you’re suggesting.”

Her heart stampeded. “But the officer Griffin’s working with could find out and warn him.”

Jake lifted his black duffel holding the money and electronics onto the workbench. “I can help with that.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

They’d made the call. Bree’s family was alive. And they were waiting in the pitch black fifteen miles southwest of town at an abandoned ranch for the exchange. Might as well have been on the moon for local response time. Why did criminals always have to meet in the dark? They’d waited all afternoon in the airport hangar updating Wilder, waiting on officers he could trust.

Jake didn’t envy Wilder’s part in the rescue. He was on foot, waist deep in snow, waiting for a signal to move in and make the arrest.

“You were right about not giving up.” Bree was in the passenger seat, gripping the bag of money like a lifeline. “I know this is coming late, but I really appreciate everything you’ve done. We’d all be dead if you hadn’t made the decision to help.”

“Just follow the plan this time.” He would not let his guard down. “If that lunatic hadn’t insisted you be the one carrying the money, you wouldn’t be here at all.”

“I recognized his voice. It’s the guy who was with Griffin at the clinic. I’ve had plenty of nightmares about him trying to kill me.”

He knew all about nightmares and didn’t want that for Bree. His hand covered hers without discussing it with his brain first. His brain would have reminded them that there was a no-touching policy in effect. “I’m... It’ll be okay. Just follow the plan. You get to your family and run. Leave the rest to me.”

He wanted to comfort her. Wanted more. His family. Her family. The whole package.

Dead Larry’s phone rang.

“Yes?” Bree answered, as they’d instructed.

“That’s on this road? Okay.” She disconnected. “We drive to the feed lots we passed at the corner, get out and wait.”

“Did you get that, Wilder?” he said, for the benefit of the transmitter he shared with the cop. He’d only had two. When Bree ran and she was out of sight, he wouldn’t have contact with her.

“It’ll take me ten or twelve minutes on foot,” Wilder answered.

“Got it.” Jake put the Jeep in gear and battled the snow-covered road. “Remember. Don’t move forward until your family does. You drop the bag and get to cover.”

“Got it.”

“I have confidence in you, Bree.” He couldn’t tell her just how much. Wilder could hear everything they said. Instead, he squeezed her hand again when he pulled to a stop.

They parked and got out, waiting in front of the darkened vehicle.

“Wilder?” Jake whispered, barely moving his lips.

“At least five minutes away.”

Three bodies turned the corner, close together as if their legs were— “They’re not going to be able to run. Their legs are lashed together as if they’re in a three-legged race.”

“They’ll run. Follow the plan,” Bree said with confidence.

“Right. The only cover is in the lot with the cattle. They’re tied together. You can’t get them through the pipe fence, so you’ll have to bring them back to the car. If something goes wrong, run up the road through the pens. Walk slow now. Run later. You’ve got the knife in your pocket, right?”

She looked up at him. “Should I go?”

He wanted to shout no but nodded yes. He wanted to kiss her, but she’d already opened the door and taken the first step away. Where was the “machine” when he needed him?

* * *

B
REE
WALKED
SLOWLY
, the snow crunching under her boots. She slowed even more, wanting to meet her family as close to the drive into the feed lot as she could. The wind hummed through the electrical wires high overhead. Another front was moving in from the south behind her. She could smell the cattle to her left, hear them moving toward the fence where they expected to be fed.

“That’s far enough.” A shout came from somewhere behind the buildings. It was the voice she’d never forget.

Her family stopped. She stopped and dropped the bag at her side. She’d soon be face-to-face with her nightmare.

“Open the bag.”

She unzipped the duffel and a spotlight shone on her from the top of a grain silo. She left the bag in the snow. “Here’s half. I want my family back.”

“You were supposed to bring me all the money.”

“And you’ll get it if you just let them go.”

“Sabrina Watkins.” The voice was closer, in the direct path of where she intended to run. “You and your boyfriend have cost us a lot of time and money. Our entire operation here is...kaput.”

She saw the outline of a gun in his hand as he walked toward her. Kyle had told them Larry had a brother. She could see the resemblance, especially in their horrible, evil eyes.

“Stay back, boyfriend,” he shouted. “I think we’ll do this the hard but fun way. Pick up the money and walk to me.”

“What?” This wasn’t the plan. How could she get her family out of here if she was with him? But Jake was there. He could get her family out.

Waving his gun like a flag, he stomped the ground. “Sit!” he screamed, and pointed at her family. They tumbled into the muddy snow, tied like they were. “See, dog trainer? I’m a good trainer, too. They obey or the punishment is my partner shoots. Now pick up the money and come with me.”

“No! That’s not the deal,” Jake shouted. “The rest of the money’s hidden. We’ll tell Tyler where to pick it up.”

“Tyler’s dead. He can’t find anything.” He waved over his shoulder, pointing to Jake. “I think your boyfriend likes you.”

Three quick shots were fired. “Son of a b—” Jake dove to the far side of the Jeep.

“Pick up the money, Sabrina.”

“You’ll leave my family alone?”

“Maybe.” He raised the opposite hand into the air. Her family cringed. Her father covered her sister as best he could with his body.

“All right. I can take you to the rest of the money.” All she had to do was make it into the cattle lot. They couldn’t shoot her family if they were trying to shoot her. She picked up the bag and looped it over her shoulder.

Her nightmare lifted his arm, attempting to grab her. She sidestepped, scooting through the snow and getting a couple of steps ahead of him. “Let them walk to the Jeep.”

“Sure.”

They stood as she got even with the cattle. Thank goodness, her father encouraged them to shuffle faster. She walked backward, watching her family and staying more than a lunge away from their captor.

They were very close to Jake by the time she was at the gate.

* * *

R
UN
!
J
AKE
’
S
FIST
hit his leg again and again. He pulled his knife from his boot, ready to cut the ropes and get Bree’s family to safety. He inched around the fender, trying to spot the man who’d fired at him.

“Wilder, from the angle of those shots, cover the top of the silo.” Bree was at the gate and out of time.
Run!

“I’m crossing the south pen. Damn snowdrifts and manure.”

“I’m sending the family out in the Jeep and following Bree.”

“Roger,” Wilder acknowledged. “There’s a truck headed in from the north.”

“I didn’t think it would be easy. I’ll get the family. You get the shooter.” Jake had his knife in hand and sprinted the remaining ten or so feet to Bree’s family.

Rifle shots echoed. “He’s either a lousy shot or—”

“Bree made a break. She didn’t get away from him....” Wilder trailed off.

Jake had to focus on one rescue at a time. Get the family out. Think of nothing else or he was useless. A shot hit the Jeep. The shooter would correct his aim soon.

“Pick up your daughter and keep running as best you can. I’ll carry your wife.”

Jake didn’t have time to verify if Watkins understood or not. They all kept running. He met them, cut their ropes and lifted Bree’s mother off the ground by her waist, very glad she was about the same size as both her daughters. He had the three of them on the safe side of the Jeep before he cut and removed their ropes completely.

Jake yanked out his bag of gear and pushed Bree’s sister into the back of the Jeep. “Stay low. Drive. Don’t stop. Don’t look back. We’ll meet you at the police station. Address is in the GPS.”

“Is Sabrina really alive?” asked Bree’s mother. “Was that really her?”

“Yes, ma’am. Sorry, I can’t explain.”

“Thank you,” Watkins said, and began backing down the road as a truck sped into view and gunned its engine.

“Anytime now, Wilder. Anytime.” Jake picked up his rifle and ran to the cattle fence. It was the only cover he had and that might make it harder for the shooter to actually hit him.

“I think I have the shooter. I warned you about my marksmanship.”

“I’m taking out the truck so they can’t follow the family. Cover me if nothing else.”

Jake sprinted along the path he’d cleared to the road as the truck gained speed to follow the Watkins family. He dug deep, blew out his breath and fired at the front tires until he heard the blowout and the truck swerved into the far barbed-wire fence.

“Do you have eyes on Bree?” he shouted over the continuing gunfire behind him.

“Negative. There you are, you son of—” A lone rifle shot, then another, then something fell and clanked against the metal of the silo. “Done. My team’s in place around the perimeter. They can’t get out of the lot.”

Jake left the men in the truck—alive, dead or unconscious, he didn’t care. Wilder could take care of them. “I’m heading after Bree.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

“Shut up and keep moving.”

“Which direction?” Bree asked.

The man she’d been so petrified of for six months, who had haunted her dreams on a regular basis, shoved between her shoulder blades and cursed when she fell.

He grabbed her coat and hauled her back to her feet. “Fall again, bitch, and I might as well blow your head off.”

“Tell me which way to go and I won’t fall.” For once she didn’t cower. Afraid, definitely. And she had no idea if anyone was following to help her out of this mess. But she knew the police were out there. This monster wouldn’t get free to haunt someone else. There was still a chance she could survive. She just had to figure out how.

With the faint yellow glow of the mercury lights, they followed the road used to load and feed the cattle. There were tire tracks from earlier in the day that were quickly getting slick without the sun to melt the snow.

Thinking they would be fed again, the cattle pushed toward the fence, jumping on one another’s backs, bucking, mooing.

“Cut across that pen to the left.”

This was her chance. She could go through the pipe fence, but her abductor would have to climb over. She’d have precious seconds to disappear among the cattle. She followed his instructions, sliding through the icy pipes, pushing her way through the cattle as fast as they’d move out of her way.

“I swear, girl, if you make another move, I’ll shoot you through the head,” he said, perched on the top row.

She stopped as best she could with the cows pressing against her. Even if the man fired and missed, she’d be crushed between these huge animals. He entered the pen and shoved his way to her side, sticking the gun against her temple.

“You might not care much about your own hide, but think about your family and friends. I
will
get out of here and I
will
slice all their throats.” He shoved her head and then shoved the cows.

The cows squeezed her between them, crushed her toes and clamored to get closer. Crossing the pen was exhausting and disgusting in the slush and manure. They were at the mercy of which way the cattle swayed for the longest time. Then the herd sort of turned the opposite direction. Maybe...

A long shadow fell across the backs of the cows. Someone was cutting across the pens on top of the fence. She pointed to the opposite corner and said, “That way’s open.”

Very few cows were between her and the field where they’d been heading. She picked up her pace, hoping whoever followed could get to her soon.
Please, please, please, let it be Jake.

“What are you looking at?”

Her nightmare spun to look behind them and she ran. Something hit her back and tangled her feet, tripping her. She caught a glimpse of Jake at the side of the pen where they were headed.

“Drop your weapon, Leroy. Don’t move and stay where you are.” Jake’s voice shouted across the pen. “Lot seventy-seven, come in silent.”

Would Leroy know he was telling the police where they were?

“Or you’ll shoot? Your girlfriend’s on the ground, Detective. Spook a cow and she’s dead.” His boot went square on her stomach, keeping her pinned down in the icy mud.

Her feet were untangled, but Leroy had his gun pointed at her. They were in a corner with fewer cows, but he was right. One little spook and she’d be trampled.

“I think it’s your turn to drop your weapon.”

“You got nowhere to go, man. The police will have this place surrounded in a matter of minutes.”

The cattle had noticed Jake at the rail. They’d all be clamoring on top of each other soon. She pushed at Leroy’s boot, desperate to get off the ground.
How?
She couldn’t see Jake and her knife had been taken away from her back at the first gate.

What had her self-defense instructor told them to do if caught on the ground? Pull the attacker’s clothes to get them off balance. She began tugging at his jeans, then rocking her body back and forth. As soon as his foot shifted, she twisted from under him and rolled to the other side of a cow.

“I’m free, Jake!”

Someone fired. She scrambled to her knees and headed away in the direction of the fewest cattle. She found an open spot, stood and pushed between anxious cows heading in all directions because of the gunfire.

And anxious because of a fight. She climbed to the top of the fence in time to see Jake land two good punches to the other man’s jaw. He stumbled backward, but Jake stayed on top of him. With a punch to his gut, the man fell against a large white cow and that evil grin she’d seen at the clinic slithered onto his face. It seemed like a lifetime ago but she recognized it.

“He’s got my knife!”

She watched a repeat of this morning’s fight with that young kid. Every slash of the blade was perfectly countered by Jake. His arm dripped blood from a gash but he didn’t slow down. And then the move that had killed that crazy young man in Wichita Falls was repeated.

This man fell, crazed eyes squinting shut, never crying out. Jake dropped to his knees and Bree jumped from the fence to run to his side.

“Oh, God, Jake. Are you all right?” Her voice was low and scared.

They made it safely to and over the fence in time to watch several police cars sloshing through the snow. They sat on the curb of the feed trough, waiting. The cattle followed to the fence behind them, noisy and wanting to be fed. They seemed unaffected by the fight.

Totally unlike her.

“You’re bleeding. Is Kyle still listening to you through the microphone?”

“I lost the earpiece after the first punch to my face. It’s somewhere out in the muck.” Jake shook off her hands from his arms. “God, I thought he’d shot you. Thought you were dead.” He gently trapped her face with his long fingers and she covered his hands, keeping him close. “I’m not sure where this relationship will lead, Bree. But I don’t want it to end.”

“This is crazy, Jake. We met yesterday morning. You don’t have to say that because we had an interlude.”

“You what?” Kyle Wilder asked as he walked up. “Are you about to kiss that witness, Detective Craig?”

They split apart. An officer brought a first-aid kit to look at Jake’s arm and Kyle backed her out of the way. “It will complicate my case if you’re having a fling with the detective.”

“We barely know each other.” She didn’t believe that. They’d connected somehow. Or was it just extenuating circumstances?

“Good, because a relationship with a suspect would just be another bad mark in his file.” Kyle had lowered his voice so the other officers couldn’t hear.

“To think we have a relationship is stupid. I just met him yesterday.” It didn’t matter if she felt something or not. After everything Jake had done for her, she wasn’t going to let him get into trouble for kissing her—or sleeping with her.

Kyle guided her down the road to a car ready to pull out. “Get in, Sabrina.” When she hesitated, his grip on her arm prevented her from running back to Jake. “I’m not asking.”

“Why are they arresting him? You said—” She twisted free and took a step toward the officers escorting Jake to another police car. “Are we both under arrest?”

Kyle caught her arm again and snapped a cuff around her wrist. “I’ve been instructed to get you into protective custody and out of Amarillo. You’re the key to bringing these scumbags to justice. Now get in the car.”

She wanted to explain to Jake how she felt. “Can’t I see him for a minute?”

“We have to obtain your statements separately. I can’t let you see your parents, either.”

“I...I don’t understand, Kyle.”

“This money-laundering scam is huge and you’re the key to putting them in jail. They’re cleaning house. My men found Griffin Tyler shot through the head in his home. They’ve been trying to kill you for six months. Do you think they’re stopping now?”

“What if I refuse? I mean, Jake’s done a fantastic job of protecting me and—”

“Will he be able to protect all your family? What if he does jail time for his actions at his precinct?”

“If I go with you he’ll be cleared?”

Kyle nodded. She got in the car and he closed the door.

Police protection scared her more than when she’d been held at knifepoint by Larry. She rubbed the place on her neck where the blade had cut her. But why? She had no reason not to trust Kyle. What worried her was not seeing her family.

And not telling Jake how much he meant to her. Maybe she hadn’t answered him, but she could clear his name and guarantee that he got his old job back. She could do that much for the marine who’d defended her so completely.

* * *

J
AKE
DIDN
’
T
LIKE
sitting in the backseat of a police cruiser. Locked on the wrong side of the glass, he could only watch as Kyle Wilder drove Bree away from the scene. An officer took him to the station and put him in an interview room. He had a lot of explaining to do to his captain, the Wichita Falls police and, right now, to a special task force rep in a nice, clean suit.

Jake still stunk from rolling in the feed lots. The only thing clean on him was the bandage where they’d dressed the knife wound on his arm.

“Detective Craig, the state of Texas would like to thank you for your help. I’m going to get your statement and make arrangements for your travel back to DFW.” He set a pad and pencil on the table.

Jake stood and leaned on the table, looking down on whatever officer was attempting to be nice to him. “Where’s Sabrina Watkins?”

“Miss Watkins is no longer in Amarillo. She’s been secured.”

Secured?
“When can I see her?” Jake sat, trying to keep a lid on the fury coursing through him.

“I have no information. Nor, if I did, would I be able to share it with you, Detective.”

“So where’s my dog?”

“Pardon?”

Jake knew the drill. He’d done it too many times himself. They wanted his recollections as fast as he could get them written. He pushed the notepad an arm’s length away.

“Kyle Wilder sent my pup, Dallas, with an officer when we landed at the airport. She could be at the pound for all I know. And that’s not going to happen. I’ll make my statement when you find my dog.” Bree’s dog that he’d keep until she said otherwise. He laced his fingers behind his head. The tape on his side pinched his skin, but he kept a straight face. “Don’t shake your head and tell me I’m not in a position to make demands. Come on, man. Just find my dog and get me a hamburger. I’m starved.”

The officer scooped up the pen and paper and left. Ten minutes later, Dallas bounded through the door.

“There’s my girl.”
At least one of them.

When the time was right, he’d demand to see Bree. And if he couldn’t—if he could hang on to the pup, he was certain they’d find each other sooner or later.