Bulletproof Badge Page 6

  “Hold it together until we’re inside the car, will you?”

  “I’m good.” Or hysterical. “I can handle this. I’ve handled tough situations before. Not as tough as this, of course. But at least I thought they were tough at the time.”

  Garrison turned her toward him and tilted her chin up with his index finger. Their eyes met, and he held her gaze. She couldn’t look away. She didn’t want to.

  “Don’t fall apart on me now, Kenderly,” he whispered.

  She managed a nod. He smiled and tucked her into his side.

  The car appeared, and he calmly drove them away from the airport, back toward the city. They went through another fast food drive-through. He ordered something for her and set the sack in her lap. Then a bank to make a withdrawal. And then they were on the highway.

  “Do you have a plan now?” she asked, unable to keep the shakiness from her voice.

  “You should eat so you’ll feel better.”

  “I don’t think a bacon cheeseburger will do much good.”

  “Fries might.” He winked and smiled. Then he realized what he’d done and drew his brow in concentration. “Okay, look, I’ll have more of a plan after I know the captain is letting someone know we’re not the murderers. But I need to get you out of this county, get a throwaway phone and call Jesse. He should have an updated status. Might have a couple of suggestions where I can take you.”

  “What if he’s not? Conscious, that is. What if Captain Oaks is out of the picture? Is there anyone else we can ask for help? Will your friend Jesse hide us?”

  “One step at a time, Kenderly.” He tapped the top of the food sack. “Eat.”

  She bit into a burger identical to the one he’d already finished. Fortunately, she could barely taste the ketchup that she hated on any sandwich. She stared out the window, watching the cars and buildings they passed. People going about their business like any other ordinary day.

  There was no room to fall apart while on the run from crime bosses and assassins. How insane was it that the thought even crossed her mind? Today was supposed to be ordinary.

  “I wonder if anyone at the shop canceled my appointments? Barbara Baker has a color at one and will be severely ticked off when I don’t show up. And I have a new perm at four.”

  “That’s the least of your problems,” he said, both hands gripping the steering wheel tightly.

  “You’re right. But that was my life, my livelihood, my reputation. I’ve worked too hard to watch it disappear in an instant.” Her head collided against the glass as he swerved to change lanes. “Hey, um...aren’t you going a little fast?”

  “Someone’s following us.”

  “That’s impossible. How could they find us?”

  “Hold on. We’re making our own exit.”

  She dropped the burger and held on with both hands as Garrison cut in front of two lanes of cars and slid down an embankment. Horns blared. Cars skidded. Kenderly squeezed her eyes shut as the side of the rental headed on to the access road. There were a lot of cars on the frontage road. She had no idea how Garrison turned at the last minute, missing them all.

  Before she could celebrate, the car following them slid down the incline, too. Garrison had to lose him. But how? His answer was to go faster. She braced herself, but with each swerve it was harder to maintain her grip.

  Each second ticked by as a series of movements. One to judge if he could dart in front of a car. One to jump ahead of another. One to apologize for putting so many lives in danger. The next one to illegally U-turn between two pickups. Another to skid through a right turn. One long moment to fishtail into a used car lot, barely missing the iron post where the gate was swung open.

  All she could do was pray that the man following didn’t see them turn.

  When he slowed, he pulled his cell and battery out of his pocket and held them in his palm. “Dial 911. It’s the only way to get you safe. This guy’s not going to stop.”

  “But—”

  “We don’t have a choice. Do it!”

  She threw the sack of food into the back and reached for the phone, but it went flying.

  “Grab hold!” Garrison yelled as he hit the brakes.

  Kenderly had kept calm and hadn’t screamed...until then.

  Chapter Seven

  Garrison slammed on the brakes too late to avoid the drop-off. What he thought to have been an exit ramp was just a broken piece of concrete. The wheels of the car popped over the curb and shot them into the air.

  The top of a building, then a light pole, then a parking lot sloped on a hill. He watched Kenderly slam sideways. Thank God it was only about a four foot drop. The rental’s undercarriage caught on the retaining wall so the air bags didn’t deploy.

  “Stupid. Now what?” He hit the steering wheel once, then turned to Kenderly.

  She was out cold.

  The person following them would have them trapped shortly. Garrison checked Kenderly’s head. No blood, just a huge goose egg on her temple. He had to get them out of there.

  The car was still running. He stepped on the gas, smoke billowing from the front tires. But nothing budged. Men ran across the parking lot he’d crashed through, then scrambled out of the way of a speeding car. The murdering son of a bitch from the previous day was driving the car.

  Garrison jumped from the car—really jumped since it was firmly stuck. He scrambled to the passenger side. One of the garage workers was there prying the door open. Wordlessly, he gave Garrison a leg up so he could pop the seat belt. Kenderly slumped sideways with him, and they got her free.

  “Thanks for the help.” Garrison caught Kenderly over his shoulder.

  “She okay? The cops are on their way.”

  “I’ve got no time to explain. She’s dead if we don’t—”

  “We got it, man.” He hit his palm with the pry bar he’d used on the door. “He won’t follow you this way. ’Less he’s a cop.”

  Garrison did a questioning turn trying to decide which way to run. “Not a cop. Thanks, but I can’t let you do that. He’s armed—”

  “The dry cleaners has a back door that’s always open. The lady’s safety is more important. Let us help.”

  It was hard to walk away, but the stranger was right. He hoped that the man following them wouldn’t draw his weapon.

  Down the embankment and across the lot. Every second anticipating the worst. Would he feel the impact of the bullet or hear the fatal shot first? He made it to the propped-open front door of the cleaners.

  Nothing. Not even shouting. Wheels peeled out.

  The murdering son of a bitch had been kept in his car by the onlookers.

  “Oh, Lord. What be happenin’ out there? She dead?”

  The woman behind the counter might help if he asked. But they couldn’t stay. “Which way?”

  She jerked her thumb over her right shoulder. He ran through the maze of baskets and steam. He couldn’t turn, fearing he’d whack Kenderly’s head on something else. She hadn’t stirred. Once he saw the open door, he ran faster.

  A slight pause to verify no madman was in the alley, then up a grassy slope and across another back drive of a gas station.

  What now?

  The words bounced around in his brain. He’d jumped from the car, forgetting to swipe up his phone and battery. How had that bastard found them? Right that moment, it didn’t matter how. It mattered that the murderer had.

  He adjusted Kenderly on his shoulder, tugging at her skirt to make sure she was decent. He had no clue where to go. Dumpster? Inside? Steal a car? Make a run for it?

  But he crossed all the options off as soon as he listed them. Delivery truck. He tried the door. Open. It was their only chance. He climbed into the back and maneuvered Kenderly with him as gently as possible. No way to l
ock the door behind him.

  There was no real place to hide and no weapon unless he threw cardboard boxes. Not much of a defense for an assassin with a gun. Packages on either side of them, a special roof kept it well lit on the inside so he could see how pale Kenderly was.

  “Come on, sweetheart. Wake up.” Completely out and probably needed a doctor.

  Tires screeched to a halt—the murderer. Metal crashed into metal—the Dumpster lid. The door raised an inch or two. Men shouted.

  “You ain’t stealing from my rig, you son of a bitch. Somebody call the cops.”

  Garrison heard a scuffle. A short one.

  “That’s right, run, you big lug.”

  Tires squealed, then the car’s engine noise grew fainter.

  “I’m fine, everybody. Thanks for your help. Not the first time I dealt with some loony tunes,” the owner of the truck said.

  The door shut. The driver got in the front, cranked the truck and pulled out. Garrison sat out of his line of sight, pulling Kenderly into his arms. This was the only way. If the delivery guy drove straight to the police, it would be better than getting shot between the eyes.

  “Kenderly,” he whispered as softly as he could. He was so close that his words were cupped by the curve of her ear. “I need you to wake up now, babe.”

  She stirred with a short moan that the driver didn’t hear over the natural noise of the truck. Garrison didn’t care if he did hear. Relief saturated him as thoroughly as when he’d gotten the news he’d been accepted as a ranger.

  The color was coming back to her cheeks as her eyes fluttered open. He gently covered her mouth while pressing a finger to his own. When her eyes registered, he got back close to her ear.

  “Just hang tight, and we’ll get out at the next stop.”

  Her eyes shut, and she relaxed her head against his arm. Her hand found his and latched on tightly. He should take her to the hospital. A possible concussion, maybe worse. She should be observed by doctors. His gut told him they’d be sitting ducks in a hospital.

  Which wouldn’t be necessary if he hadn’t thought his phone was safe to use. How the hell had they been found? Who was this maniac working for?

  He didn’t have long to think about it since the truck pulled over and stopped. The driver consulted his clipboard, then stood facing the back where the packages were.

  “What the hell are you doing in my truck? Don’t tell me. The SOB back at the station was after you and you hid inside?”

  “I can explain.”

  “I don’t need no explanation. That SOB was crazy-eyed. But I can’t give you a ride back to your car. It’s against regs.”

  “Thanks for the help.”

  “Okay. Fine. So go already.” He backed into the built-in shelves, gesturing that they should pass.

  Kenderly was apparently still a little stunned. It took her a second to realize she was sitting on his lap and needed to stand first. Garrison followed, squeezing by the rather large driver.

  “Excuse me,” Kenderly asked. “Is that Highway 183 back there?”

  “Yes, ma’am, 183 and North Lamar.”

  “Sweet.” She took their surroundings in at a glance and walked toward the street.

  “Wait a minute. Where are you going?”

  “I worked nights up here for a while. A restaurant near North Capital.” She faced the driver again. “A couple of miles that way, right?”

  The driver had a package in his hands ready to step from the truck. He looked at Kenderly and shrugged. “I’m going that way. Stay put while I get a signature.” He ran down the sidewalk into the office buildings.

  “Do you think he’ll get in trouble? It shouldn’t take us long to walk. I think I can get us a car, and you can call your friends.”

  He grabbed her by the arm and spun her around harder than he’d intended. “Wait just a damn minute. They might let us use one phone while they call our location into the cops.”

  “I know these people. They’d never do something like that. The cops are the last people they want there.”

  “Money does strange things to people. Are you forgetting about the reward Tenoreno put on our heads?” She tried to shake off his grasp, but he was determined she wouldn’t get free. “Give it up. You aren’t going anywhere ’til I get my bearings and think this through.”

  “So why don’t you ask to borrow the driver’s phone?”

  “I don’t think the man likes to share. You didn’t hear him get the crazy bastard chasing us to back down.” The delivery man was pretty good swinging that tire iron. “You shouldn’t be walking a lot. We’re taking him up on the ride offer.”

  She rubbed her temple and winced when her fingers crossed the lump. “We’re lucky to be alive. You know that, right? How did that creep find us anyway?” She took a side step to lean on the door, either trying to break free or ignoring him.

  “Kenderly. Wait. I need a minute to think.” He pulled her next to him, backing up to the truck, watching around them as much as he could. If they’d been followed...

  “Can’t we think once we’re inside a building where the sun isn’t blaring and making this headache worse? Besides, what’s there to think about? The big bad murderer found us and tried to kill us a—”

  “Now you’re with me. We know he’s the murderer, and he’s not going to give up just because a truck driver scared him off for a few minutes.”

  The driver emerged from the building whistling and waved at them to get inside. He looked around all the corners as much as Garrison had. Kenderly was already inside. Garrison followed just one step ahead of the driver jumping in and throwing the truck in gear.

  “They have a tracker in the truck. I can’t turn off my route or I’ll have some explaining to do, which I don’t want to do. Get me?”

  “I’m sure wherever you can drop us is fine.” Kenderly had to raise her voice over the truck noise. She had tried to keep standing, but ended up sitting on the floor.

  His mind freed up and began working again. It finally sank in that the murderer had found them by tracking his real name, finding the rental, using it. That took connections.

  The truck stopped once more. Kenderly thanked the driver over and over again, elbowing Garrison in the ribs several times. He took the hint and thanked him once or twice before holding her hand and running to the building’s edge.

  “I figured it out,” he told her when she faced him. “In order to find us, he has to be working for one of the crime bosses. They’re the only ones with connections that could have sent him looking for me.”

  “Somehow they found out who owned your house.” Kenderly shaded her eyes. He hadn’t noticed how bright everything was reflecting off the cement lots and cars.

  “Yeah. After they knew my real name, it would be a cinch to search my credit card activity.”

  “Which led them to the rental car company.”

  “And my cell. They could have bribed or threatened someone to locate us via the GPS in the car.” He blocked the sun from his own eyes and scanned the cars. None of them were black. None had dark tinted windows. But the murderer was out there.

  The corner where they stood was visible from only two directions parallel to the highway. They needed to disappear. “Risking the restaurant is our only option. But just so we’re clear. It’s a bad option.”

  “Believe me, Joey Crouch does not want the police near him.” She laughed and stepped away.

  Garrison caught her arm. She turned to him with brows raised, her brown eyes sparkling in spite of the headache she had. “Who is this guy to you?”

  “An old friend and an old boss.”

  “Boyfriend? He the reason you don’t work there anymore?”

  “As a matter of fact, no. I finished up school and went to work full-time. I no longer neede
d to work nights. My life was in order, Ranger Travis. Was yours?” She walked and he let her.

  Perfect timing as the delivery truck pulled by blocking anyone’s view. They crossed with the light. He hurried her toward the patio of the building, scooping her over the short hedge and gently setting her on the other side.

  The couple finishing their meal shot a couple of looks, but it didn’t stall Kenderly. She wove her way through the tables, and he followed—one look to her and a complete spin to see if they were being followed.

  “Hi, Jen. Is Joey here today?”

  “Kenderly. What in the world happened to you?” The restaurant hostess with her arms full of menus laughed. “Have a rough night, hon?”

  “Is he in the kitchen?”

  “Where else would he be?” Jen set the stack down and took a step toward the door.

  “That’s okay,” Kenderly said. “I know the way. I don’t want to pull you away from your work.”

  Garrison wished he could have seen Kenderly’s expression, because he caught a glance of Jen’s. A cross between guilt and satisfaction. Kenderly’s tone sort of implicated a love triangle. One more glance at the streets. No black sedan.

  Garrison had to speed walk to catch up with Kenderly before she stopped short of the kitchen. She gave an exaggerated tug on her skirt, shoved her fingers through her hair and wiped her face with both hands.

  She mumbled, “I wish I had my shoes,” before pushing the swinging door aside and stepping through. Garrison looked at her bare feet. He’d been so busy rescuing her, he hadn’t noticed he’d left her shoes back at the car.

  The staff was light at this time of day. They all greeted his witness with welcome surprise. One tall dude stood near the stove, arms crossed, black hair pushed back from his naturally tanned face. He appeared to be over thirty, but if Garrison admitted it to himself, he was good-looking enough to probably attract a young woman like Kenderly.

  Not that he’d readily admit that to anyone else.

  There was a hard, resentful look. As his staff—it was obvious he was in charge—looked toward him, his sternness cracked with a broad smile. Shoot. He understood how Kenderly saw through him so quickly.