Risk of a Lifetime Page 16

  “Old man Parson and his wife. From the looks of them, they must have been coming home from Joanie’s.” Cain turned onto the main road which smoothed out the bumps in the ride.

  “Anybody else been by?”

  “Not that I saw.” Cain handed back a thermos and cups. “I been driving a two-mile loop and some of the side roads for the past hour. Came back when I figured you’d be close.”

  JB poured a cup of coffee and handed it to Marcy after she tugged off her hat and gloves.

  “There’s a couple blankets on the seat back there if you’re cold.” Cain kept his focus on the road ahead except for the frequent glances in the rear and driver’s side mirrors.

  “Thanks.” She sat quiet, sipping the heat into her body.

  Cain’s phone rang. “Yeah, I got them.”

  “If that’s the sheriff, I need to talk to him.” JB reached out to take the phone, then put it to his ear. “Anything happen there?”

  “Nope. Everything’s quiet on this end. Looks like the plan worked,” Sheriff Davis replied.

  “Go in the house now.” Trying to muffle his words from Marcy, JB ran his hand across his face. “I thought I saw something as we left.”

  “You sure ‘bout this? We’ll blow the stakeout if we go in.”

  Adrenaline pulsed through JB’s body. “Yes. Go inside now. Call back as soon as you check it out.”

  The call ended, and when he glanced across the floor bed, he looked into Marcy’s brown eyes. “Probably nothing,” he said.

  She nodded, sipped more warmth from the cup.

  A few minutes later, the phone rang, and he turned to muffle the words. The less Marcy knew the better off she’d be. “Yeah?”

  Sheriff Davis cleared his throat. “You were right. He’s been in and out. Looks like he came up through the crawlspace under the house. None of my guys saw or heard anything.”

  “How’s that possible?”

  “Kennett said it looked like the floor around the register in the utility room had already been cut out. Repositioned on some blocks under the house.” Davis sighed deep. “No telling how long he’s been planning this.”

  JB leaned his head back against the door, cricking his neck from side to side. The breath he took in expanded until the force of the Kevlar vest clinched tight against his body before he blew every bit of air out. He could feel her stare but didn’t look over.

  The sheriff cleared his throat. “He left you a couple of notes. One on the pillows in your bed. Along with ten 38-caliber bullets on the other pillow.”

  “Repeat the last.” Inside, JB churned with heat, chaos, premonition.

  “Ten 38-caliber bullets,” Sheriff Davis replied.

  JB tensed with rage. The creep had walked their floors, stood by their bed, touched their pillows. Who had he angered this much? Was it actually someone in the Bureau? Or someone who’d been sent to settle the score for a busted drug runner? Terrorism? No, none of his cases had come close on that count.

  Maybe this was tied to Jennings’ death in some way. Maybe there had actually been a child slavery ring, and the girl who’d lured Jennings to his death had been an innocent victim guiding him to the wrong place at the wrong time. Those involved could want to silence everyone involved before starting up again.

  But in that case, why hadn’t Landon been targeted? Wouldn’t they think JB’d tell his new sometimes-partner his concerns from past cases? None of this made sense.

  Why make it so personal? Why hadn’t they finished him off right away, instead of torturing him for days and risking the FBI coming to his rescue, as they had? Why toy with them now, instead of just shooting to kill? He raised his shoulder and stretched his side enough to loosen the kink grabbing the bruise from the building blast. “What did the note say?”

  “The one in the living room looked like it had been scribbled fast. Said he heard you say you knew the woods like the back of your hand. That he’d like a good chase. Go for it.” The sheriff stopped. “That’s all on that one.”

  JB thought back. Exactly when had he said that? “What does— Wait, I said that in the truck. That means he’s really got some heavy-powered listening device somewhere in that yard.”

  Also meant this was a game to the guy. A hunt. Somewhere behind them was a killer. Right now, they were ahead, because JB had expertly crisscrossed his and Marcy’s path in the woods. The man was probably lost about now. Lost and mad. Getting madder by the minute.

  “We’ll check.”

  “Also, means he knows this was a set-up. Read the other note.”

  “Is Marcy listening?” the sheriff asked.

  “No.” He braced for bad…real bad. “Go ahead. Read it word for word.”

  “To the lovely couple. Sorry I missed you. Hope she didn’t hurt herself when she stumbled. See you soon.” Sheriff Davis sucked in a breath. “Would have loved to hear the ending to what you started in the kitchen. Marcy sounded hot. I like my women hot.”

  JB’s eyelids flew open, and he ground his fist into the seat beside him. He stilled, then rested his hand on the knife strapped to his thigh. The sonofabitch was gonna pay. Fast or slow, didn’t matter. He pulled himself back from where he’d mentally gone. He needed to focus.

  Reactively, he reached for Marcy, and she scrambled across the floor bed into his arms. His arm engulfed her as she huddled against him, her fingers unconsciously stroking his jaw line. Even though she didn’t know what was wrong, she was scared. Scared because he’d let his anger rage. He willed himself to relax enough so she wouldn’t be afraid.

  “You okay?” Sheriff Davis asked.

  “Yeah. We’re okay.” He clutched his wife against him. “We’ll keep the plan in place. Let me know if you get anything else.”

  “Sure thing.”

  “I’m gonna hand the phone over to Cain. Read him the notes before you hang up.” JB passed the phone forward to the driver.

  Marcy’s hand found his. “Did they catch him?”

  “No, he was already gone when the sheriff went in.”

  “You said something about a note. What did it say?”

  “Just something about hearing us inside the house earlier. He thinks he can outsmart the rest of us.” He eased her away, patting the seat. No way would he tell her what the second note said, but she needed to know the guy was hunting them. “Marcy, whoever is after us is sadistic. I think he may be involved with the hit men who branded me with my shield. This is all a game for him. Back at the house, he left a note saying he’d enjoy chasing us through the woods.”

  Her eyes narrowed with righteous indignation. “Means that was him outside the house. He watched us leave.”

  JB nodded. He heard Cain click the phone off and knew he was taking everything in from the front seat. Maybe he’d have some suggestions once she dozed off.

  “We made it to the get-away truck, so that means we lost him.”

  “For the moment.” How should he word what he wanted to say next? Straight and to the point. “I gave you the gun for a reason. Promise me you’ll pull the trigger if our lives depend on it.” What a thing to tell his wife to promise. But better prepared than surprised.

  She nodded. “I promise. He won’t take either one of us if I can help it.”

  Good. He knew he could count on her. “For now, I want you to lie down and get some sleep. We need to get some rest before the next leg of the plan.”

  She stretched out on the leather as he covered her with the blanket. “Will he?”

  “Will who what?” He knew damn well what she meant.

  Scrunching her hat and gloves under her head for a pillow, her cheek rested gently on the softness, her eyes boring into his. “Will the man outsmart all of you?”

  “No, Marcy. He won’t. I told you before, I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.” Stroking her hair, he kissed her lips, then leaned back, gave her a smile. Her eyes closed along with her small return smile. “Get some sleep.”

  She snuggled under the blanket. �
�You know, from a purely psychological reasoning, I think the guy’s trying to make you suffer. Sure, he wants to take me out, but mainly he’s in it to make you feel a pain he’s felt. You know…like you hurt his woman or daughter or mother, someone like that, and he’ll hurt yours.”

  “I’ve already thought of that.” He leaned his head against hers.

  “And when the time comes to settle the score, he needs to see your reaction as I die. Then he can live the rest of his life at peace knowing his revenge was complete.”

  See his reaction? His reaction would be to kill the damn sonofabitch.

  Still, what she’d said was an interesting deduction. One he could use. That might be what the jerk wanted, but he’d use the plan against him when the time came.

  “Thanks, sugar.”

  “For what?”

  “An idea.” He needed to think on a decoy to be the final lure when the time came. “Guess you were right, danger follows where ever I go. I should never have come back.”

  She brushed a kiss across his lips. “I’m glad you did, though.”

  Cain kept the truck moving down the road, his eyes never looking back. Never a hint that he could hear everything that had been said.

  JB tried to think what they might have missed. Too much at stake for him to overlook any clue. If the clues were there, they were hidden like a man covering more than his tracks. Like someone covering from a trained background.

  “Here’s something else. He’s reacting to a perceived wrong. One you may not even know happened.” She elbowed up just a bit, looked him in the eye. “Yes, he wants you to be there when I die. He won’t decide whether to let you live or not until then, either.”

  He knew what she meant. Seeing her die, knowing he hadn’t been able to stop it, would be the ultimate suffering. And to live with that would be even worse than dying.

  “Of course, that all depends on how far he’s gone over the edge of reason by the time he finds us.” Sighing, she laid back down. “Bottom line…who knows I’m your wife?”

  “Not just that. They’d need to know where you live and that I’d be here.”

  How would anyone have known he’d head back to Crayton at this exact time? Sure, he’d thought about heading home after Jennings was killed, but he’d shaken it off. There’d even been the meth lab bust that went bad when he worked with Landon for the first time. Still he’d decided to stay with the FBI. Wasn’t until after he’d been hurt on the last case that the idea—go home, see his ex-wife, make amends—kept flashing in his mind. Then the reprimand for nothing from Wilson had been the tipping point.

  None of this fell together. At least, none he could see right now. Maybe he’d think better after a little sleep himself. Otherwise, the only rationale was that they followed him and chanced on the perfect setting to make him suffer. Not likely.

  Sliding her hand from under the cover just enough to touch his body, she closed her eyes. A few miles later, her soft sleep sounds pulsed in his ear.

  JB flipped the attacks through his mind, piecing them together with what she’d said about the thug chasing them to see if anything shook out. Could the would-be killer have seen his reaction each time? Been getting off on the rage and misery he saw JB experience in each desperate moment?

  The bank shooting. Had the shooter actually tried to kill Marcy or just wound her? The office building explosion. He’d got her phone call to pick her up. Had there been a listening device in her office? After all, he’d only been half a block away when the blast ricocheted through the air.

  If this guy were that sophisticated in his techniques, then there’d be no way to trace the bullets or the note back at the house. There’d be no evidence from the crawl space underneath the place. There’d be no prints. No DNA. Nothing that didn’t belong there.

  JB’d done the same in his undercover work. Having all the procedures thrown back in his face was either a blessing—because he knew what to look for—or a trail to the end, because the person had figured out his modus operandi. In which case, that meant every reaction he made would be calculated into the creep’s plan.

  Who knew him that well? Who knew how much Marcy meant to him? Or was that just a guess?

  Cain glanced over the seat. “She asleep?”

  “Yeah. What did you get from the notes?”

  “Cat and mouse.”

  “Exactly.” JB leaned his head back. “Cat and mouse. In fact, she may be right about him trying to make me feel his pain. Maybe leaving me alive as more punishment.”

  “You’ve riled somebody mighty crazy out there.” Cain shook his head. “This isn’t about some gang retaliation or a hit being put on you. This is flat out personal. I bet there’s a link between this and your past couple cases.”

  JB’s thoughts flashed to the last case. The thugs beat him within an inch of his life, slashed the knife across his chest until one of the guy’s stopped the others. Said their orders were to keep him alive. So they burned his shield into his chest and threw him in the gutter. Now this. “That’s my thinking, too. You been with the DEA long?”

  “Long enough to know you follow the roadmap back to whoever’s out to get you. Check off the players in your past jobs. Don’t leave anybody out as a suspect. Nobody.”

  “Yeah.” JB learned in training, no one was above suspicion. Who, though? Who’d he missed? He couldn’t think any more, his brain was tired. His body ached from the past few days of blows and bruises. A fog settled around his thoughts… There was a clue…there had to be…one clue was all he needed. Tired, so tired…there was always a clue…someplace…where was the damn clue?

  “Get some sleep, buddy. No telling when you’ll be able to rest again.” Cain turned the radio on low. “I’ll drive up to Jefferson City. Nurse a beer in one of the bars for an hour or so. You two can sleep back there. With the tinted windows on this truck, no one will be able to see you. Should still give us time to get you where you’re going.”

  “Appreciate it.” JB angled his head as close to Marcy as he could, holding her hand. “You know, right before we left the house, she told me she never signed the divorce papers. Never filed them.”

  “That’s some mighty heavy news to have dropped.” Cain paused, clearing his throat. “How you feel about that? About still being married?”

  “I don’t know…I honestly don’t know.” He’d think about that later. Right now, staying alive was top priority. His eyes drifted shut.

  Ten .38 bullets. Why thirty-eights? Why ten? Why…?

  Chapter Nineteen

  She was awake, but Marcy didn’t want to open her eyes. Instead, she wanted to lay there with JB just a touch away and pretend they were home in their own bed. Tucked beneath a nice, warm blanket with a shared glass of wine on the night table. They’d have nothing to do but make sure each other was happy.

  “Wake up, sugar.” JB nudged her shoulder.

  She stretched, smiled, then elbowed up on one arm and caressed his cheek. Reality slammed full force as the past twenty-four hours flashed through her mind. She jerked to sit up.

  His hand pulled her back down. “Be careful. Someone might be following.”

  “Where are we?” Her insides felt fueled by fear. Her outsides hurt and ached from the bulldoze effect of brush and trees slamming against her as they ran through the woods earlier. “How long have I been asleep?”

  “About four hours. Cain’s been taking us on a road trip around the county.” He shared his cup of coffee with her. Handed her a sack. “Even bought us a couple of sandwiches at the bar in Jefferson City.”

  Famished, she scrounged inside and came up with a hamburger. “You don’t know how much I need this.”

  Cain kept his eyes glued to the road ahead. “My pleasure. By the way, I swung by the cabin and upped the heat. Plus there’s plenty of food stocked up.”

  “Thanks.” Marcy swallowed a bite of burger. “And thanks for helping us. I doubt you ever planned on being part of a good-guy-bad-guy scenario.”

&
nbsp; “You’re right about that. I’m just a nice, peaceful kind of guy.” Cain glanced at JB, and the two men shared a like-hell expression.

  Someday, she’d ask what that was about, but for now, she was content to know she and JB had a friend willing to help.

  Every so often, Cain glanced in his mirrors. “About twenty more minutes to drop off.”

  “Eat up, Marcy.” JB straightened. Checked his gun. Reached under his sweater, readjusting the Kevlar vest. “As soon as you’re finished, I want you to start stretching your arms and legs. You need to be able to run the minute we hit the ground.”

  She swallowed the last bite before finishing off the coffee. “Did you sleep? Eat?”

  He nodded. “Always thinking about how I am, aren’t you? How’d I get so lucky?”

  “You were the best-looking jock in high school.” She longed to feel his arms around her like the times they parked at Crayton’s lookout point, cuddling to the sound of soft music. They’d even gone there a couple times after they were married.

  Cain cleared his throat in mock gruffness. “I beg to disagree about him being the best jock in school.”

  “Well, you were always a really close second.”

  For a moment, the three of them laughed at memories. Then the quiet consumed them.

  “Get your gloves and hat on, Marcy.” JB worked his legs in a pedaling motion, stretched his arms forward, and bent his back.

  She followed his lead and gradually got into her own rhythm. “What time is it?”

  “About three. We should be to the cabin by four, four-thirty, at the latest.”

  “Won’t it be light by then?” Her hand checked to make sure the gun still rode in her pocket.

  “This time of year, probably won’t be light until five-thirty, six, maybe later.”

  “Getting close.” Cain turned the truck onto what had to be a rutted, gravel road from the bounce and jog motions. “Just so you know, I’ve got a guy waiting alongside the road where we’re gonna stop.”

  JB’s jaw clenched. “Who?”

  “Don’t worry. He’s okay.” Cain glanced back. “I wouldn’t bring him in otherwise.”