“Don’t you scream at me, woman, or I’ll put you in the trunk and drive myself,” he threatened her again.
“I’d rather ride in there than smell you the whole way,” she shot back.
He chuckled as he got into the backseat again. “I’ll tell you when to make turns. You just obey me like a good little woman until we get there; then maybe I’ll show you what a real rebel is, and it ain’t Tag Baker, honey.”
Nikki gritted her teeth and turned toward Sunset when she left the ranch. Hopefully Tag would get the call and know when she didn’t answer that she was in trouble. It was a crazy world when her first thought in the face of danger was to reach out to Tag rather than hitting her mother’s number.
“Not one mile over the speed limit.” Billy Tom reached around the seat and pulled back her hair with the barrel of the gun. “Tag must’ve meant it when he said he was through with our way of life, fallin’ for your type like he’s done. So I bet he’ll do exactly what we tell him to get you back.”
Nikki held on to the steering wheel with a death grip to keep her hands from shaking. If she got out of this alive and unhurt, she would enroll in a self-defense class as soon as she got home to Bowie. When she reached Nocona, she turned west on Highway 82, just like he said.
She pointed to the left. “We should get some gas if we’re going more than twenty miles. All right if we stop at that station right there?”
“That’s fine, but don’t you try anything funny. I’m hungry. We’ll get some road food while we’re here too.”
She pulled up to the gas pump, picked up her wallet, and slipped her debit card into the slot. When she had filled the tank, Billy Tom got out, slung an arm around her shoulders, and walked her into the station. Either Billy Tom was stupid and didn’t realize that the police could track her payments with the card, or the whole ordeal would be over before they even knew she was gone.
Her skin crawled at his touch and her nose twitched at the rancid odor coming from him. She wanted to kick him in the shins and run, but she could feel the barrel of the gun against her ribs.
“We’ll go to the bathroom while we’re here. If you crawl out a window or run while I’m in the men’s room, when I come out I’ll shoot everyone in the place. That’s a promise, not a threat,” he whispered as he pushed the door open.
“Can I help you?” the young pregnant clerk asked.
“Just need to use the restrooms and get some food,” Nikki said sweetly.
“That’s good,” Billy Tom said from the side of his mouth. “Real good. Be a shame for a mama and baby both to die today.”
She went to the ladies’ room and used the facilities. Then she removed her library card and a pen from her wallet. She wrote West on 82 on the back of the card and stuck it in the corner of the mirror. When she went back out into the store, Billy Tom was covering the counter with potato chips, cookies, fried pies, and a six-pack of beer.
“Y’all must be taking quite a road trip,” the lady said.
“Yep, our very first one together,” Nikki said.
Billy Tom gave her a dirty look. “We’ll have half a dozen of them burritos in your hot food case, too, and half a dozen of them sausage biscuits.”
“Yes, sir.” She got it all out and bagged up. “Anything else?”
“What do you think, darlin’? You want some milk?” Billy Tom kissed her on the cheek.
She fought the desire to wipe her face. “Root beer, please. Bottles not cans. If you’ll get it for me, all this should be rung up by the time you get back.”
“You go get it,” Billy Tom said. “I’ll wait right here for you.”
That squashed the idea that she might get a word with the clerk, but there were ways to slow the trip down. She picked up two six-packs of root beer and set them on top of a case of water.
“My little woman is sure strong.” Billy Tom beamed to the clerk. “And looks like she’s real thirsty too.”
“That apple pie moonshine from last night makes a girl want water.” Nikki set everything on the counter and took out her credit card.
“I’ll need to see your ID if you’re paying for the beer,” the clerk said.
“That’s sweet but I’m twenty-nine years old,” Nikki told her, and flipped her wallet around so the lady could see her ID.
“Nikita Colleen. What a pretty name. Irish?” the woman asked.
“That’s what my mama Wilma tells me.” Nikki nodded. “As far as I know, we don’t have any Irish in us. Go figure why people name their kids what they do.”
“My mama got my name Jenny from a character in a book,” she said. “If you’ll sign this, you can be on your way, Miz Nikita.”
Nikki signed her name with a flourish on the receipt. Billy Tom had picked up the water, so she wrote HELP below her name and nodded at Jenny as she picked up the two bags he’d left behind.
Of all the times for the convenience store’s phone to ring—Jenny shoved the sales slip into the cash register without even looking at it. Nikki couldn’t catch a break.
In her car and back on the road, Billy Tom kept the gun in one hand and twisted the cap off a bottle of beer with his teeth. When he spit it on the floor of her car, she grimaced. She was proud of her car. She’d worked hard to save up to buy a decent vehicle and she kept it in pristine condition. She was tempted to slam on the brakes when he tipped up the beer, gulped down half of it, and then burped loudly.
“Want one?” he asked.
“Want me to get drunk and pulled over for speeding? I’m sure the cops would love to get their hands on you, so, yes, hand me a beer,” she answered. “What’d you do anyway?”
“I stole a white pickup and put the license plate I pinched from Tag’s truck on it. Y’all were so much in love you didn’t even suspect that I switched it at the pizzeria. That was a stroke of luck for sure, finding y’all in there like that. I used the truck to steal a load of ephedrine headed for a little meth lab over in East Texas. Then I sold the goods to another meth cooker. Now everyone is going to be looking for your precious Tag. He wouldn’t join us, so we figured he could take the blame for driving the getaway truck.” Billy Tom tossed four bottles of water over into the passenger seat.
“How’d you get to the cabin?” she asked.
His phone rang and he put it on speaker. “Hello, y’all at the hideout?”
“We’re here. Where are you? You should’ve beat us here,” a man answered.
“Stole me another car. Damn one I was driving ran out of gas a mile from the ranch, so I had to walk. All I wanted was for Tag to give me a ride to Mesquite to get my bike and maybe a hundred dollars to get me to my little hideout, but he wasn’t there.”
“Is this damn phone on speaker? I hear road noise.”
Billy Tom burped loudly. “Hell, yeah. I’ve got a gun in one hand and a bottle of beer in the other. Tag’s woman is driving. I figure he’ll buy her back from us.”
“We don’t need that shit. We can divvy up the money we already stole and then lie low for a few months.”
“Tag needs to pay for not goin’ with us,” Billy Tom said.
“You’re crazy.” A different voice laughed. “But I like it. Reckon he’ll cough up five grand?”
“I’m thinkin’ ten might get me a good used motorcycle, and I’ll just leave mine out in Mesquite where I stole the car. Y’all get that money counted out. We’ll be there in a few hours.”
“We already got it in stacks. Damn driver of that ephedrine haul didn’t even know what hit him,” a third guy said. “We’ll see you soon.”
He ended the call, patted her on the shoulder, and then dug into the bag for the sausage biscuits. “Want a biscuit?”
“No, thank you. I’ll just drink water,” she answered. “And, Billy Tom, just so you know, I’m not Tag’s woman.”
“Then what the hell were you doin’ in his cabin this mornin’ or out on a date with him the other night?” He burped again.
Chapter Fourteen
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nbsp; Tag had just flipped two large pancakes on his plate when someone knocked on the door. Hud raised an eyebrow and started across the kitchen when they heard Maverick say, “Good mornin’, Officer. What can we do for you?”
Tag set his plate on the table and followed Hud to the living room.
“May I come inside? I’m Deputy Davis. I’m looking for Taggart Baker.”
Tag stepped around his brother and nodded. “Yes, come on in. I’m Tag.”
“I’m here about your white pickup truck. Where were you last night between eight and midnight?” the officer asked.
“I was here until ten with these guys, and then I walked about a quarter mile over to Longhorn Canyon Ranch, where I stay in a cabin,” Tag said.
“So how did your truck come to be in a robbery over around Mesquite? I got a note this morning from the sheriff over there saying the plates match that truck out there in the driveway. One that was reported stolen.”
“I have no idea,” Tag said, and then groaned. “Billy Tom.”
“You’re runnin’ with him again?!” Hud’s voice bounced off the walls.
“No, I’m not.” Tag wiped a hand across his forehead. “You’d better sit down, Deputy, sir. Billy Tom, that would be William Thomas if you want to look up his rap sheet, has been after me to give him money for some deal he had going. I wouldn’t do it and he was in the pizza place in Bowie the other night when I was there.” Tag went on to tell the whole story. “I’ve seen him switch plates on vehicles lots of times.”
“So you do know him? How do I know that you didn’t switch the plates yourself after you helped with the robbery? If you’re his friend, you might do that, right?”
“I didn’t do it.” He didn’t want to get Nikki involved in this or smear her reputation, but there didn’t seem to be another way out. “A lady I’ve been seeing, Nikki Grady, can vouch for me.” He slipped his phone from his hip pocket, just as it started to vibrate. “This is Nikki right now. Let me put it on speaker and you can ask her yourself.”
“Hello?” he said. “Would you…”
“I’ll tell you when to make turns. You just obey me like a good little woman until we get there. Then maybe I’ll show you what a real rebel is, and it ain’t Tag Baker, honey.”
There was the sound of a car engine that faded as it got farther and farther away.
Tag tensed and balled his hands into fists. “That’s Billy Tom’s voice. He’s got Nikki. I can almost guarantee it, and I know where they’re headed.”
“It’s Billy Tom’s voice, sir,” Hud agreed as he got up to let in the dog scratching at the door.
Red came trotting in, dragging a handbag behind him. Tag took it from the puppy. “This is Nikki’s purse. Red must’ve been there when they left. They don’t have a very long lead. We might catch them if we head out now.”
Davis headed for the door. “If you really want to help, tell me where they’re going.”
“They usually hole up at an old run-down cabin over near Tulia in Swisher County. I can draw you a map if it’ll help. It’s about five hours from here. The place belonged to his grandpa, but the old guy’s been gone for years.”
“Okay, son, I’ll alert the local authorities, and they can check it out.”
“Make sure you talk to Sheriff Lester Roberts,” Tag advised as he followed Davis out of the house.
“You know him?” Davis asked.
“My parents own the Rocking B Ranch,” he said. “And my brother Matthew is a volunteer deputy out there.”
“With a family like that, how in the hell did you get in with someone like Billy Tom?”
“Bad decisions.”
“Well, I hope you learned that every choice has consequences,” Deputy Davis admonished.
“I have, sir, and I’m doin’ my best to get past the bad choices,” Tag said.
Davis nodded and got back into his patrol car. Tag was watching him leave when Hud yelled at him from the porch. “If you take your motorcycle, you might be able to catch them. I packed you some clothes and other things just in case,” Hud said. “You go get it while I pack a bag, and then I’ll call Matthew and give him the scoop while you’re on your way.”
He started out the back door toward the barn where his cycle was stored.
“Call when you get there and give Mama a hug for me,” Hud yelled.
Tag held up a hand in acknowledgment. Choices, bad decisions, consequences, fate, and karma—he had a good thing started with Nikki and now he’d lost it for sure.
Nikki had drunk all four bottles of water by the time they reached Wichita Falls. “We’re going to have to make a pit stop. I can’t go much farther.”
“Once you’re on Highway 287, you can stop at the next station you see. I’ll go in with you and the same rules apply. You run or turn me in and I start shooting everyone I see,” he said.
“I understand,” she said.
She whipped into a service station and hurried inside, glad that she had on flip flops, because the sign said NO SHIRT, NO SHOES, NO SERVICE. She pushed into the bathroom, praying there would be another woman in there, but no luck, so she removed a grocery store rewards card from her wallet and wrote Help me. I’ve been kidnapped. She wrote Tag’s phone number on the back and laid the card on the vanity.
Once she’d finished, she slowly washed her hands and checked her reflection in the mirror above the sink. Lord have mercy! She looked horrible. Her hair was a tangled mess since she hadn’t had time to brush it before Billy Tom knocked on the door. There were black mascara streaks down her face from all the tears she’d shed, and bags under her eyes. She took time to wash her face and then pulled her hair up into a ponytail with a rubber band she took from her wallet.
When she opened the door, Billy Tom was right there blocking her way with a hand on each side. “What took you so damn long?” he hissed.
“If you’ll notice, I washed my face and tried to do something with my hair,” she said.
“Gettin’ pretty for me, were you?” He grinned.
“No, just trying to look less like someone you kidnapped so you won’t cause a scene. Can we go now?”
“I want another six-pack,” he told her. “Get it and pay for it.”
She saluted smartly and walked under his arm. “Anything else?”
“Nah, we got enough food to last until we get to the hideout,” he said. “We’ve wasted enough time. The guys are waiting for us.”
“When are you calling Tag to ask for ransom money? It’ll take him five or six hours to bring it to you. You willing to sit still that long and wait?”
Billy Tom glared at her. “He’s got rich relatives. His brother Matthew can get it to us in less than thirty minutes, and after the money is in my hands, I’ll tell him where he can find you.”
“Am I going to be dead or alive? You’ve been letting me use my debit card everywhere. You do know they can track me with that?” she asked.
“I don’t give a shit. This’ll be over before they find you anyway. And dead or alive depends on whether you make me mad…”
She shot him the evilest look she could muster and marched straight up to the beer cooler, got out a six-pack, and went to the counter to pay for it. The old gray-haired fellow asked for her ID, and she gladly gave it to him, hoping that when someone came to find them, he’d remember the name Nikita Grady.
“Good girl,” Billy Tom said. “You even remembered the brand I like.”
“If I hadn’t been afraid you’d shoot some kid’s grandpa, I’d have bought you arsenic,” she said as she started the engine. “I need more water.”
He flipped four more bottles up on the passenger seat. “Sure you don’t want something to eat? I’ve got burritos and one sausage biscuit left.”
“You ate five biscuits?” She wrinkled her nose at the sight of him in the rearview.
“Didn’t eat all day yesterday,” he sneered back at her.
“Tag is going to kill you,” she muttered.
�
��Tag is probably trying to talk his way out of a jail cell right now,” Billy Tom laughed.
“Well, genius, did you remember to get the tag off that truck in Mesquite and put it back on his truck, or were you in such a hurry to kidnap me that you forgot?” she asked. “I don’t remember us taking a detour by the ranch for you to take care of that.”
He slapped himself on the head with the gun. “Don’t you worry, darlin’. By the time the cops figure out my tag-switchin’ business, it’ll be too late. I’ll just wait and call Tag when we get to the hideout. It won’t take Matthew long to get the money.”
Billy Tom’s attempts at intimidation weren’t working. For the last three hours, his tactics just made her that much more determined to go against the oath she’d taken as a nurse to help heal people. At some point, she’d take that gun away from him and enjoy giving him a reason to beg her to call an ambulance.
“Ain’t got nothing to say to that, do you?” Billy Tom talked with food in his mouth.
There was so much tension in the car she thought for a minute that Billy Tom would tell her to pull over to the side of the road, shoot her, and take her car on to wherever his hideout was located. But a glance in the rearview let her know real quick why he had slumped down in the seat. There was a police car coming up on them pretty fast from the rear.
She sent up a silent prayer asking that the lights would begin to flash and the sirens would blare.
“You better hope we don’t get stopped, or I’ll shoot the cop the minute he walks up to the car,” Billy Tom threatened.
“I’m sure someone has missed me and put out my tag number,” she said.
“Honey, your tag changed while you were in the bathroom at that first gas station. I switched it with a car the same color as yours in the parking lot of that convenience store.” Billy Tom slouched down farther.
As if in answer to her prayer, the lights on the police car came on and the noise of the siren filled the air. Then the police car whipped around them and sped down the road until it was nothing but a dot in the distance.
“Now ain’t this that policeman’s lucky day?” Billy Tom sat up straight and took a bean burrito from the sack. “Riding makes me hungry. Want one?”
Cowboy Rebel--Includes a bonus short story Page 13
