Wild Borders (23 page)

* * * * *

The searing odor of ammonia assaulted Rick’s nostrils and his eyes snapped open. Blinding light caused him to shut them again, but not before he caught the image of a hand waving smelling salts under his nose. His temples throbbed as he struggled to remember where he was and what had happened, and he had a strange feeling in his head. Like he was underwater.

“Wake up,
amigo
.” Sal’s voice.

Rick brought his hand to his forehead and blinked until he was able to focus. He was sprawled on the floor of the Cantina’s office, Sal crouched beside him. In the background he heard the hum of voices, and vaguely made out an agent questioning someone in Spanish. It sounded like Don Mitchell.

“How many fingers am I holding up?” Sal asked.

“Three, to go along with your three goddamn eyes,” Rick mumbled.

Sal grinned and pressed a cloth to Rick’s forehead. “Your pupils are dilated. You’ve got one hell of a lump and a bruise, but you might get lucky and walk straight in a few hours.”

Rick took the cloth from Sal and groaned as he eased himself up to sit with his back against the desk.

“Did you get a look at the guy who hit you?” Sal asked.

Pain slammed into Rick’s head when he tried to nod. “Damn,” he muttered. “I only got a glimpse, but the guy looked like those surveillance photos of Gordo. Big belly, handle bar mustache, enormous gold buckle.”

“Miguel had Don and me drive by to keep an eye out for you. About twelve thirty I headed in to take a look. When I saw you weren’t in the bar, I called Don for backup and we found you back here.” He motioned to a pile of ropes beside Rick. “The SOB’s started to bind you, but I must’ve spooked them. They managed to escape out the back door.”

“It was my own damn fault—I walked right into it.” Rick scrubbed his hand over his head and winced when his fingers brushed the bump growing at his temple. “What’s the time?”

Sal checked his watch. “Twelve forty.”

Rick’s shoulders knotted as he thought of Lani. She’d probably arrived at the bed-and-breakfast, so he shouldn’t be worried. He reached into his back pocket for his cell phone, but it wasn’t there. Probably left it in the truck.

“They pulled this off you, but left it on the desk.” Sal handed Rick his firearm. “Must’ve been in a hurry to get out of here.”

Rick tucked the gun at his back as he got to his feet. He grabbed the phone on the desk and called the station. When he asked Daryl if there were any messages for him, Daryl said, “Yeah. Got one from a Lane Stanton. Said she was running late and probably wouldn’t get away from the ranch until after one.”

“What?” Rick shouted, the sound of his own voice splitting his head. “Never mind.” His hand shook as he hung up and dialed the ranch. He let the phone ring at least twenty times.

No answer.

“Don called the paramedics,” Sal said when Rick slammed the receiver down. “They should be here any minute.”

“No time.” Rick headed toward the door. “I’m going to the ranch. I think Lani’s still there and I’ve got to make sure these bastards aren’t after her. Call the Sheriff’s Department and call for backup.”

He didn’t wait for Sal’s reply as he ran into the thunderstorm. Sirens approached as he jumped over water flowing in the gutter and stumbled into his truck. Gritting his teeth against the throbbing pain in his head, he started the vehicle and swung into traffic. His reflexes were off, causing him to drive erratically, and horns blared as he weaved on the road.

Cursing the distance to the ranch, he fought to maintain focus and control of the vehicle. He discovered his cell phone wasn’t in the truck, and he had no way to call Lani to see if she was still at the house. Even the pouring rain mocked him, the washes already running with water from the downpour, forcing him to slow down as he crossed them so he wouldn’t flood his engine.

When he finally arrived at the ranch, he took a back road and parked behind a clump of mesquite bushes, hoping the dark truck blended in well enough and couldn’t be seen in the rain. He grabbed his field glasses out of the glove compartment, pulled out his gun and hurried out of the truck, careful not to slam the door.

Rain poured and thunder rumbled as he waded through floodwaters and crawled to the top of the muddy dam. He prayed that he was wrong. That Lani wasn’t in danger.

But as soon as he looked through the binoculars, he saw the unfamiliar car in the driveway. And Sadie’s SUV still parked there. He swung the glasses to the house and glimpsed a man through a window.

Rage seared him and he had to force himself to think calmly. Then two men stepped outside the house, and he recognized the man who’s knocked him cold. The bastard gestured to the yard.

Lani must be hiding somewhere. Where would she hide? Not the barn. Her sneezes would bring attention to her immediately. Possibly the garden, but not enough cover. Certainly not the plane. She was terrified of it. If it was Trevor, he would know to go to the playhouse.

The playhouse. It dawned on Rick that Trevor had told Lani about his dad’s instructions. Would she remember?

Gordo started searching around the outside of the house and the other man headed to the barn. Rick scrambled over the dam, slipping in the mud and sliding to the bottom of the incline. He fought another wave of nausea, then crouched low and ran to the windbreak. The playhouse came into view. He raced toward it, then paused at the door. If Lani was in there, she might scream, thinking him one of the men hunting for her.

Lightning struck, close enough that the clap of thunder was unbearably loud to his pounding head. He pushed open the playhouse door and saw Lani on her knees, her back to him, her face in her hands. He eased into the doorway, and as she raised her head he clapped his hand over her mouth, and pulled her close to him.

Terror ripped through Lani and she struggled against the hands that held her.

“It’s me,” Rick said and released her.

Her limbs went slack with relief. She turned and threw her arms around him, pressing herself against his wet and muddy body. “I’m so glad you’re okay. Thank god you’re here.”

He kissed her forehead, but when he pulled away, his face was grim. “You were supposed to be in Bisbee by now.”

“I’m so sorry. I overslept.” She gasped when she noticed the wound on his head. “What happened? You’re hurt!”

Rick eased by her, mud covering the floor of the playhouse behind him. He picked up the binoculars and looked out the window. “Damn. They’ve spotted my truck.” He dropped the glasses and took her hand. “Keep low.” He pulled her through the doorway of the playhouse and into the storm.

While she crawled out, Lani wiped rain from her eyes and started to ask Rick how they would escape, but her heart stopped as a figure stepped in front of them. She signed with relief when she saw that it was Sal.

“Sal.” Rick put his arm out to block Lani from walking forward. “What the hell are you doing?”

It was then that she saw the gun.

Chapter Nineteen

Lani’s heart pounded as her gaze snapped from the weapon to Sal’s face, his expression ruthless in the pouring rain.

“You couldn’t leave well enough alone, could you,
compadre
?” the man said, water dripping from the brim of his hat. “I convinced them to give you a warning. A chance to walk away.” He spit onto the dirt, but kept his eyes on Rick.

Rick pushed Lani partially behind him. “Leave her out of this.” His voice was as hard and cold as steel. “You and I can talk.”

“Too late. The man wants the both of you taken to him.” Sal pulled Rick’s cell phone out of his back pocket. “You’re going to visit
El Torero
now.”

Lani’s gaze darted from Sal to Rick and back, her heart pounding. What could she do to help Rick? To help them both?

“Hands up, palms facing me.” Sal stepped closer. Pushed his gun into Rick’s belly. “Don’t move while I make this call, or you’re dead.” His cold gaze cut to Lani. “You run off and I’ll shoot him.”

Rick raised his hands, his movements slow and easy. Raw terror filled Lani while Sal punched buttons on the weatherproof phone, the electronic sound surreal in the pouring rain. In the distance, somewhere behind them, men shouted in Spanish.

She struggled to calm the fear raging within. How were they going to get out of this? If only Rick had his gun.

His gun.

Slowly Lani raised her left hand that was hidden behind Rick’s back. He stiffened as her hand moved under his over shirt. She kept her eyes focused on Sal. The man spoke rapid-fire Spanish into the phone, but so low and unintelligible that she wasn’t sure Rick could even make out the words.

Her fingers eased over the rough texture of his denim jeans and then met cold metal above the waistband. She withdrew the weapon, afraid that Sal would hear the sound of the gun moving across cloth. She eased the gun under her baggy T-shirt and into her left front pocket where Sal couldn’t see, praying her shirt was loose enough that Sal wouldn’t notice the bulge.

The front of her shirt dropped down just as Sal punched off the phone. “Let’s go. But first give me your weapon.”

Lani froze.

“I don’t have it,” Rick replied evenly. “I lost it in the dam when I was coming after Lani.”

“Bullshit.” Sal gestured for Rick to turn around. “Keep your hands up. I won’t hesitate to shoot the woman if you try anything.”

“You can see I’m covered in mud from when I fell.” Rick turned in a slow movement.

As Sal patted him down, Rick stared at Lani, asking her with his eyes what she’d done with his gun. She glanced at her pocket and he gave her a grim smile.

“All right.” Sal nodded. “My truck’s by yours. I’ll follow you.”

“Tell me why you’re doing this.” Rick turned and lowered his hands.

Sal shrugged. “Money. I’ll never get rich working for the government. I’ve already made more cash in the past few months than I could in an entire year as an agent.”

“You’ve been tipping off the bastards,” Rick said. “You gave them the names of my contacts. My family. Lani.”

Sal’s dark eyes flashed and he nodded toward the dam. “Let’s go.”

“I never thought you’d turn.” Rick worked his jaw as he stepped forward.

“That’s your biggest weakness.” Sal grinned. “You’re too damn trusting.”

Before Lani could even grasp what was happening, Rick swung his right leg around and kicked the gun out of Sal’s grasp. The man howled and cradled his hand. Rick caught his balance on his left foot and then shot his right foot toward Sal, plowing his boot square into the man’s midsection.

Air whooshed from Sal’s lungs. He doubled over and dropped to his knees. Rick swung his foot again, connecting with Sal’s head. The man fell to his side and lay still.

Lani dove for Sal’s gun where it had landed on a patch of wet grass. Her hands shook as she scooped it up and handed it to Rick.

Men’s voices were approaching.

“Damn,” Rick muttered. “There’s only one way we can get out of here now.” Holding Sal’s gun in one hand, Rick grabbed Lani’s with his other and pulled her through the windbreak.

“How?” But even as she asked, horror slammed into Lani and she started to shake. She tried to stop running, but Rick pulled her forward until they burst through the trees, straight toward his plane.

“There’s no way. I can’t.” Every part of her quivered as Rick yanked open the cockpit door. Flashes of flames and her sister’s dead face filled her head.

Shouts erupted from behind them. She didn’t have a choice.

It took everything she had to force herself to climb into the plane, knowing that this time they would be flying.

Rick helped her up and then dropped Sal’s gun between the seats. “Everything’ll be okay.”

Somehow she managed to get into the co-pilot’s seat and buckled in. She shook so hard her teeth chattered. Clenching her eyes shut, she tried to fight the horrific images in her mind.

The engine roared to life, and she felt the movement of the plane as Rick guided it down the muddy runway.

OhGodohGodohGodohGod.
Naya’s voice rang in Lani’s mind and she gripped the armrests so tight her hands ached. Flashes of the plane crash erupted in her mind, and she could barely keep from screaming her terror.

“Keep your head low.” Rick’s voice was tight. “They’re at the end of the runway.”

She forced herself to open her eyes and saw his clenched jaw, his hands taut on the steering column. His normally tan skin was pale, the wound to his forehead vivid red. Mud and water dripped from his clothing, onto his seat and the floor.

Lani looked out the window and choked back a cry as the men came into view and the plane began to lift from the ground. Both men aimed guns at the cockpit.

Glass cracked as a bullet hit the windshield. She screamed as another zinged by her ear. She heard the ping of more bullets against metal as the plane rose higher. Then nothing but the sound of the engine and blood roaring in her ears.

“We’re okay.” Rick reached over and patted her hand. He glanced at the gauges and cursed. “Damn. It looks like they hit the gas tank.”

“What?” Lani croaked.

He gave her a sharp look. “We’ll be fine. It just means that we need to head to the closest airport. Rather than chance going over the mountains to Bisbee, we’ll land at the airport outside of Douglas, by the prison.”

Rivulets of water streamed down Lani’s face and her wet clothes clung to her body. His gun dug into her hip, but she couldn’t pry her fingers from the armrests to take it out of her pocket. He radioed ahead and she berated herself for putting him in such danger by not getting away from the ranch like she’d promised.

When he approached the field, an air traffic controller informed him that for security reasons they wouldn’t be allowed to land and would have to go to the airport in Douglas. Rick argued that it was an emergency, but the controller insisted Rick take the plane to the next airport and that it would be prepared for the landing.

“What the hell?” he muttered. He cut a look to Lani and managed a small smile. “We’re losing fuel. But it’s a slow leak. We’ll make it.”

She tore her gaze from Rick’s and closed her eyes.

And prayed.

Lightning flashed and the plane bounced with the turbulence. Lani gasped and Rick looked at her again. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her face ashen. He thought about the day he’d met her. And now he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

He could only hope that would be longer than it took to get the plane landed.

“It’s all right,” he said. “We’ll be there in just a few minutes.”

She didn’t answer, and he wished he could take her in his arms and hold her tight.

Head pounding, he struggled to concentrate and control his clumsy hands. That bang on the head—must have banged up his coordination, too. He forced himself to focus on the air traffic controller’s voice and the approaching landing strip. The blue runway lights blurred in the rain.

“We’re about to land. It might be a bit bumpy.” Rick tried to keep his voice calm and soothing. “I’ve got a concussion, so my hands are a little shaky, but we’ll be fine.”

“I trust you,” she whispered, but when he glanced at her, he saw that her eyes were still closed.

Steady. Steady. Rick gritted his teeth and eased the plane down.

The nose dipped in the wind, and the plane pitched. Lani’s gasp was audible.

He swore under his breath, fighting the wheel more than he should have. Five hundred feet. Four hundred. Rain made visual impossible. He was flying on instruments, and on his gut instinct. Hopefully concussions didn’t affect instinct as much as hands.

Two hundred feet.

One hundred.

The plane dropped hard, skittering. Lani screamed and grabbed her knees. He dragged hard on the brakes, his breath catching with each shimmy and bump until they rolled to a stop in front of the hanger.

He leaned back in his seat, his muscles slack with relief. He looked at Lani’s pale face.

“Did—did we land?” she asked, eyes squeezed closed, lips trembling.

“We’re safe.”

She opened her eyes. Her breasts rose and fell as she took a deep breath. “I’m so sorry I put you through this. I should have listened to you and should have gone straight to Bisbee.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Rick hooked his finger under her chin. “I’m just glad we made it. Now let’s get out of here.” He grabbed Sal’s gun from where it lay between the seats and tucked it into his waistband at his back.

Damn Sal.
How could he have been so blind to such deception?

After he helped Lani climb out of the plane, she flung her arms around his neck and hugged him tight. Rain poured down as he squeezed her to him and kissed her wet hair.

“
Señor
,” a man said behind them.

Rick released Lani and spun around, his hand close to the gun.

“We have been expecting you,” the man continued. “Please come in out of the rain.” The man was dressed in coveralls with the airport insignia.

Rick nodded, his head swimming with pain from his injury.

They followed the wiry man into the hanger, which was so dim he could barely see. Only a black truck was parked inside the building. Rick’s skin crawled.

Even as he reached for Sal’s gun and tried to push Lani outside, something struck him in the small of his back. His breath knocked from him, he pitched forward and hit the floor.

“Rick!” Lani screamed.

A boot pressed into his back.

“Don’t move or I’ll shoot the little lady,” a familiar voice said as the man in coveralls frisked Rick, then took his gun. The door of the hanger slammed shut, the only light coming from a single bulb hanging from the ceiling.

Rick’s vision swam. He turned his head to the side—his blood ran cold as he saw Stevens holding Lani by one arm, the barrel of an automatic to her temple.

“Get up,” Stevens ordered, a toothpick hanging from the corner of his mouth. “Hands where I can see them. Dominguez has got a gun pointed at your head. Let’s don’t leave a mess, McAllister.”

Heart pounding, he eased to his feet and faced Stevens. Dominguez stood about a foot away.

Rick’s eyes met Lani’s and he tried to tell her everything he wanted to say with that one look. Her lips parted and he could see her trembling. He tried to keep his face calm, but inside he was dying. One wrong move and Stevens could kill her.

Rick fixed his gaze on Stevens. “How’d you track us?”

The rancher’s face was impassive. “Valenzuela let me know you’d gotten away. I called in a few favors and had you routed here, everything kept quiet. I pump a lot of money into this town.”

“What—” Rick fought for focus, his injury making it difficult to think clearly or even speak. “What do you want with us?”

The rancher pressed the gun tighter to Lani’s head and she gasped. “Sorry, Rick,” Bull said, “but you should’ve turned in your resignation.”

Stevens cocked his head toward Lani. “She’ll come with me. For now.”

Rage filled Rick. His vision became sharper. He had to keep Stevens talking. Find some way out of the mess they were in. “What kind of man smuggles people across the border and leaves them to die?”

Stevens’s tone was calm. “Payback for all the damage done to my property. Payback for the thousands of dollars I’ve lost. Might as well see some of the cash if they’re gonna be crossing my land.”

“You killed Pedro Rios, didn’t you?”

Stevens rolled his shoulders. “Rios revealed too much to the reporter. He might’ve spilled his guts to the wrong folks.”

Fighting back a wave of nausea from his injury, Rick said, “Don’t add another murder to your charges.”

A smile tugged at the rancher’s mouth. “I’ve been doing this for years, and with you gone nothing’ll change.”

Rick shook his head. “You’ve been under surveillance. Gordo, a known
coyote
, has been seen going to and from your ranch. Your phone has been tapped, conversations recorded. It’s over.”

The smile faded from Stevens’s face, and Rick’s heart dropped when the gun against Lani’s temple trembled. The man worked the toothpick between his teeth as if chewing on what Rick had just said.

Slowly, Rick lowered his hands. He glanced at Dominguez out of the corner of his eye and saw the man’s attention was on Stevens.