by Tanya Stowe
“Get on the floor.” Both women obeyed him, and he ran to the rear of his vehicle.
The police fired more shots at the two cars that were parked on the freeway on-ramp above the hotel. The shooters had a perfect view of the front of the hotel and his men.
More gunfire lit up the night sky, and a bullet pinged off the roof of his SUV. The women inside screamed and his men ducked. They were pinned and couldn’t cross the parking lot, to get to their own vehicles. If Dylan gave Gonzalez the go-ahead to drive off, he’d be on his own. The gang members could easily stop firing and follow him, leaving Dylan and his men in the lurch. He couldn’t allow that to happen either.
Another barrage of gunshots. Bullets pinged around them.
The policeman—true to his word—along with his men, fired back, laying down a protective barrage. But they were all stuck like ducks in a shooting gallery. They couldn’t stay here, but they couldn’t move forward.
Just when Dylan thought he would have to pull Lena and her family back into the hotel, the blue lights of patrol cars flashed, headed toward the on-ramp and the shooters. The extra units Holmquist had sent had arrived.
The gang members stopped shooting. Dylan watched as the men scrambled into their cars and sped up the ramp, with the patrol units in close pursuit.
Dylan signaled his men to head to their vehicles. “Standard procedure,” he called out as they hurried to their parked cars.
He looked at Gonzalez and his agent in the passenger seat. “Take no chances. Just get them safely to Phoenix.”
He slammed the door and pounded the side. Gonzalez waved and pulled out. One vehicle screeched in front of him and another pulled in behind as they headed out of the parking lot.
Dylan heaved a sigh. Now to get Joss to safety.
* * *
After Holmquist hung up the phone, he roused Chekowski and herded him into the back of his car. Joss tried to reassure the anxious horses by petting them and talking to them in a calm voice. Surprisingly it helped her too. Then she fed them and gave them fresh water.
By the time Joss finished and headed to Holmquist’s vehicle, darkness had fallen. Her supervisor gestured to where Chekowski leaned his head against the seat. “You clocked him pretty good.”
Joss had no remorse. “Good. He deserves it. He got Henderson shot.”
Holmquist hooked his thumbs in his belt. “You’re sounding more and more like the agent I know so well.”
“Am I?” Wrapping her arms around herself, she looked at the dark ranch house. It was an empty building, but it had come to mean more to her. A place of her own. Family. Someone beside her.
“I’m not sure I want to be that kind of agent anymore.”
Her supervisor paused. “Joss, you are—”
She held up her hand. “Don’t say it!” She smiled to soften her harsh tone. “Thank you for reminding me and caring so much. But maybe I’d like to be the kind of agent who has a home and a family.”
He leveled a frowning gaze in her direction. “I suppose that home and family life would include one special agent named Murphy.”
She shook her head and looked at the house. “You know that’s not possible. Dylan Murphy is on a mission to save the world. Not just one foolish, somewhat-guilty border-patrol agent.”
“Guilty?” He glanced sideways. “What do you have to feel guilty about?”
She shrugged. “Not reporting my brother when I began to suspect he was working for the gang. Not calling for backup when I saw those gang members leaving his apartment. I could have prevented everything else that happened after that.”
“Maybe. We’ll never know for sure. But we do know you were kidnapped, snatched right off the street. None of the rest of that matters.”
“It matters to Dylan,” she said in a low voice. “He might forgive that kind of mistake, but he won’t forget and neither will I. It will always be between us.”
Holmquist made a noise, then, flipping off his hat, beat it against his leg. “I warned him, told him not to use your feelings for him as a tool to solve his case.”
Joss was so surprised by his anger toward Dylan, she was speechless. His affection for her brought tears to her eyes.
Reaching across the space, she touched his arm. “It’s not like that, honestly. It isn’t ambition or a sense of duty driving him.” She paused and looked around. “I didn’t understand, didn’t know how much he’d lost, until I came here. Then I saw how he’d been hurt and how deep it went.”
She ducked her head and lowered her voice. “Now I understand. His guilt is heavier and stronger than mine ever will be. He can’t forget it or defeat it.” She met Holmquist’s gaze and gave him a slight smile. “I can’t either. It was silly of me to think I could.”
The older man grasped her hand. “Joss...”
“It’s all right.” She gave him another half smile. “I may have lost that battle, but I’ve won one for myself.” Her gaze roamed over the dark ranch house. “I’ve found what I really want. When this is all over, I’m going after it.”
He squeezed her hand. “I hope that includes your life with us. You’re—”
She laughed out loud. “I know. I’m a good agent.”
Holmquist smiled. “Glad you finally got the message.”
His radio squawked and he hurried to answer it. The border-patrol unit he’d contacted to pick up Chekowski was turning into the ranch’s drive.
Joss caught his gaze and motioned to the house. “I’m going to get cleaned up.”
By the time she’d showered and returned to the living room, Holmquist was stretched out on the couch, sound asleep after his long day.
Joss sat in one of the recliners and, in spite of her worry over Dylan, dozed. Finally the house phone rang. She jerked awake and ran to the kitchen, where sunshine flowed through the window. She grabbed the phone on the third ring.
“It’s me.” Dylan’s voice eased over the receiver and she sighed in relief. Still, he sounded tired and frustrated. “I’m on my way to the station to make arrangements. Pack your bags, Joss. We’ll be heading to Los Angeles when I return.”
“Los Angeles? Why? What happened?”
He sounded tired and defeated. “Lena and her family are safe. I’ll fill you in when I get there.”
He hung up before she could say more.
Holmquist had followed her into the kitchen. She turned to him. “It’s over. Lena is safe and Dylan’s on his way to the station. I think he’s putting me in protective custody in Los Angeles.”
Her supervisor nodded. “A good move. You need to be far away while we get down to the business of arresting Vibora and Caulder. I’m going to check in with the station to see if those warrants have been processed.” He lifted his cell and dialed as he walked to the front door.
Joss scrambled some eggs, and even managed to get a few bites down. Breakfast was an almost-silent affair. Holmquist looked tired and Joss’s mind was on her move to LA. Although she knew it was for her own safety, she couldn’t help but dread leaving the ranch...and Dylan. Once she did, everything between them would be over. The special glances. The shared moments and the unspoken bond. It would be severed as Dylan put on the armor of his mission.
Sadness dogged her movements as she packed her things. It only took fifteen minutes. Then she remembered the horses had been in their stalls since Dylan left. She hurried out. Holmquist followed her and helped her wrangle the bridles on, just before he got another call. The station’s daily activities didn’t slow down for this case, or for their supervisor’s absence.
“My signal isn’t strong here. I’ll try inside.” He headed into the house.
Joss led the horses from the barn and tied them on the fence for some fresh air and sunshine. This would be her last time with the magnificent animals. She grabbed the curry and began to brush.
The late-
morning sun was gentle. A soft breeze tickled the tops of the cottonwoods and cooled the air. They rubbed together, creating a sound like rushing water. With one hand on Goldie’s warm flank, and the soothing water sound above her, she closed her eyes and thanked God for this moment, for Dylan’s safety, and that of Lena and her family. Most of her memory had returned. Some pieces were still missing, but she was thankful for what she had and for this moment of peace and beauty. She’d had so few recently.
The low thrum of an approaching engine broke through her prayer, and she opened her eyes. Thankfully she recognized the black government SUV. Dylan pulled up and eased out of the car, with his gaze fixed on her.
He looked exhausted, but a slow smile slipped over his lips. The look in his eyes was soft and possessive. He stood for a long moment, just looking at her until she stopped brushing and returned his stare. She could have stood in his gaze for the rest of her life.
But he slipped his baseball cap off and ran his fingers through his hair. The curls wrapped around his fingers and bounced back. She wanted to touch them, to feel those soft curls beneath her fingertips, to ease the exhaustion she saw in him. Instead she swallowed and turned to the horse.
Hanging his head, he ran a hand through his hair again. Did he realize that was the second time in less than five minutes?
He crossed over to her, patted Goldie and looked off into the distance. “You saved lives last night. Two cars full of gunmen sat on the freeway on-ramp above the hotel. They could have picked us off like they were target shooting. Thanks to you, we were prepared.”
She smiled.
He met her gaze. “It isn’t safe here any longer. We have to get you far away, and I can’t have both of my star witnesses in the same location. I spent the rest of the night making arrangements for you in LA.”
“I know.”
Was his silence a sign of his disappointment? She wanted to ask. There was so much she wanted to say, but he looked toward the house. “Is Holmquist inside? I need to speak with him before he leaves.”
Joss nodded and Dylan strode off. Reluctant to follow him, she continued brushing Goldie’s coat. When she finished she went to the barn to muck out their stalls and brush up the hay she’d dumped on Chekowski. When she had it all stacked in a pile, she went outside. Goldie nickered a greeting. Smiling, she stroked his head and leaned her forehead against his.
Dylan and Holmquist exited the house. Her boss paused and stopped short of the horses. He fumbled with his hat. “Joss...be safe. I—”
Joss released the horse, hurried to his side and wrapped her arms around his waist for a big hug. “I’ll be back soon. Don’t worry.”
Not able to find his voice, he nodded, slipped his hat on his head and headed for his car. Joss went to the horse to stroke his long muzzle. She couldn’t watch as Holmquist headed down the dirt road.
“We’ll have to leave soon, Joss. I just need a little break before I tackle the long road to California.”
Joss’s stomach sank to her feet, but she paused only for a moment before stroking Goldie. The horse’s warm, smooth muscles and the reality of his big, strong body helped her stay grounded. She took a deep breath and ran her hand along the animal’s back.
“I’ll miss these guys.” Her voice dropped. “They’ve helped me a lot. What’ll happen to them?”
“I’ve called Hank. He’s picking them up tomorrow.”
“Can we...is there time for a short ride before I go?”
Dylan didn’t answer for a long while. Finally she looked at him. He was exhausted. His shoulders sagged. A deep frown creased his brow. She could almost hear him waging a battle inside. But his hooded gaze softened when he looked at her.
“We shouldn’t but I’d like that too...a lot. It’ll have to be short though.”
Joss didn’t give him a chance to change his mind. She untied the horses and led them to the barn. In minutes they were saddled. Just before they climbed on, Dylan ran into the house for the cowboy hat Joss had worn the day before. She settled it on her head and they were off.
Instead of taking the river route, Dylan crossed the field and headed along a dirt road. He kicked Patches into a slight trot and glanced over to make sure Joss had managed the change of pace. She gave Goldie a nudge.
Dylan headed toward a distant peak that poked up out of the earth like a tall anthill. Joss smiled. Almost all of her memory had returned, but funny things jumped out in her mind, odd bits of info like those a child might discover.
They called the mountains in this area “islands in the sea.” The mountain ahead of them was exactly like that—tall but surrounded by an ocean of flatland.
Dylan turned off the dirt trail and began to climb. Joss had to concentrate as Goldie picked her way around cacti, yuccas and saguaros. But there weren’t too many of those plants. They didn’t like the higher elevations and soon completely disappeared.
The horses had to work harder as they climbed. The sun beat down on them, but soon the cool breeze kicked up stronger. Clouds formed overhead. The late-afternoon monsoon was on its way, but Dylan didn’t pause. He seemed determined to reach an overlook above them.
It was closer than it looked and came with a view for hundreds and hundreds of miles on three sides. One of the things Joss loved about the Southwest was the clear skies and the amazing visibility. Directly in front of them, Mexico rolled away in undulating plains. To their left, the San Pedro River Valley was dotted with square green patches of farms and ranches. On the right a natural desert was marked with the deep cutouts of streams and ravines that flowed toward the river.
Beside her, Patches shifted, and she looked at Dylan. He was watching her. The possessive look in his gaze made her heart skip a beat. If only...
Joss turned away. There could never be an “if only” for her and Dylan. His one and only love was his work. No matter how much she...or he...might wish it, Dylan had no room in his life for the things Joss had come to realize she needed...trust, companionship and a safe, happy place to call home. Dylan could never provide those things for her. She understood now, and she was never going down that path of wishful thinking again.
The cell phone attached to his belt buzzed three times in quick succession. He lifted it and glanced at the readout. “I guess we were behind the mountain. I wasn’t getting reception. Holmquist has been trying to reach me.”
He punched the button. Because of the silence on the lookout, the voice on the phone came to Joss loud and clear.
“Murphy, this is Holmquist. I got a call from the station. The guys transporting Chekowski were fired on. One officer was wounded. But Chekowski was the target. He was dead on the scene.” There was a pause. “It was a drive-by shooting, and the vehicle was a gray Toyota. We alerted the local police and state troopers to be on the lookout. The truck was spotted heading onto I-10. The troopers set up a watch along the interstate. If the truck heads your way, I’ll keep you posted.”
Dylan looked up. Joss’s expression must have shown her concern, because he said, “They couldn’t be on us that quickly. Chekowski told them you weren’t here. They have to be headed someplace else.”
He punched the message. “Murphy. Bad news. The truck and three other vehicles pulled off the interstate, onto Highway 91. They’re headed your way. Get out of there.”
Dylan didn’t look at her. He selected the next message. “Answer me, Murphy. I need to know where you are. We’re on our way, but Vibora and Caulder have a jump on us. Get out of there!”
Dylan slid the phone onto his belt. Without turning to her, he pulled on Patches’ reins. “We’re going to make fast time. Keep up the pace as best as you can.”
They spun the horses around and looked back the way they’d come. Far off in the distance a rooster tail of dust flew high in the air. The gray Toyota truck and three SUVs were on a dirt road headed their way.
* * *
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. He’d wanted one last ride. He’d let down his guard and allowed himself this perfect moment, and now Joss’s life was in danger. How could he be so foolish?
He looked to the mountaintop. “They must have seen us climbing the hill from the ranch. We can’t go back there. We have to go up. It’s only a thousand more feet. The horses can make it. On the other side of that peak is Sierra Vista and the local police. Vibora’s vehicles can’t climb up there. Let’s go.”
Clicking Patches into motion, he pulled out his phone and dialed Holmquist. Reception was spotty, but the man’s message machine picked up. Dylan gave him their location and where they were headed, but he had no idea if it went through or stalled behind the mountain—and they didn’t have time to wait for an answer. They needed to put as much distance between themselves and the gang as possible.
He cut across through the rough terrain and looked back. Joss was managing to keep up. She was a natural, but they’d already been in the saddle too long. Sooner or later she’d feel the strain and they’d have to slow down. They needed to go high and far—fast.
They climbed steadily. The shrub and piñon trees gave way to taller species—Arizona white oak, sycamores and an occasional pine. Finally they reached the covering of a forest of white oak. Dylan breathed a sigh of relief. At least now Vibora and his crowd couldn’t see them on the mountainside and spot their location. They were shielded by the trees.
The afternoon clouds had gathered into a dark cluster overhead. Rain wouldn’t be far behind and it would fall in a deluge. They needed to find temporary shelter, something that would protect the horses and give them a rest, because as soon as the storm cleared, they would be riding again.
