by Jenna Night
If things had gone differently yesterday, Martin could have lost her. While he’d shielded her body with his own as Bunker and Daltrey took shots at them, he’d seen the relief in her eyes when she’d realized Martin was there. He’d heard the raw emotion in her voice, felt the sense of connection between them, and the power of that had been unsettling. It had felt as though the situation had forced them to shove aside every layer of emotional defense they had put in place and made them feel what lay beneath.
Last night Martin hadn’t gotten much sleep for a whole host of reasons. He’d worried about Daisy’s physical safety and her emotional health. He’d worried about Daltrey and Bunker still running loose in Jameson. The cops hadn’t found them and no one knew where the hit men were right now. He’d worried about the chase for the fugitives going on for so long that everyone eventually stopped being as cautious and alert as they needed to be.
He’d also worried that the carefully constructed line he’d drawn between himself and Daisy was getting dangerously blurred.
He would always protect her from physical danger. Always come running the minute she called. Over the years he’d found it pretty much impossible to set limits on what he’d do for her. But he would not let her fall in love with him. He would not let her think that because of all they were going through together right now, that somehow meant they had a future together.
They didn’t.
Martin could hunt down people who were trying to evade justice. He could fight and shoot if he had to. Track an animal or a human being in the wilderness. He was on call as a volunteer helping with high-angle rescue in the event that anyone got injured in the mountains.
But he couldn’t have the kind of relationship with Daisy that he knew she wanted. He had too much emotional baggage thanks to his parents. And too many vacant places in his heart and mind where the keys to how to love someone and weather all the ups and downs and still keep things going without bitterly disappointing the other person should be.
If he really loved Daisy, he’d stop allowing himself to savor the feeling of growing closeness between them. He’d do it before he unintentionally hurt her by saying or doing or being the wrong thing for her.
He forced his thoughts away from Daisy and focused them on the fundamentals of their current case instead.
Despite being hit by Martin’s bullet, Bunker hadn’t left enough of a blood trail for law enforcement to track him. So the injury was likely not life-threatening.
The sheriff’s department had gotten a K-9 out there that led them to a forest service access road. There were fresh tire tracks on the dirt and signs that someone had been car camping there. So Daltrey and Bunker were probably hiding out in the park—for the last night, perhaps longer—and maybe this morning one or both of them came into the campground area. For clean water from the tap, maybe. And while they were there they must have seen Daisy and Martin. Perhaps someone in the camp had been an accomplice or had somehow alerted them.
There was no way to be certain. The only thing they knew for a fact right now was that Bunker had altered his appearance. So Daltrey had probably altered his appearance, too.
Daisy finally had talked to everyone who’d come to greet her and she started toward the church foyer with Martin right behind her. They’d come to this service, the earlier of two morning ones, thinking there would be fewer people and Daisy’s appearance would draw less attention. Martin could only imagine what it would have been like if they’d shown up for the more popular later-morning service. Daisy not only had a regular presence at church, but she’d helped several of the congregants, using her bounty hunting skills to locate missing people with memory problems as well as a few angry kids who’d run away from home.
“Thank you,” Daisy said to the man standing guard inside the foyer as she walked past. The man smiled in response. Martin likewise expressed his gratitude.
The foyer was mostly empty by now and Martin spotted Sheriff Russell just as she called out to Daisy. The sheriff, wearing a lavender dress and heels, stood near a uniformed deputy. A sheriff’s department patrol car was visible through the foyer’s front windows.
The edgy sense of worry and anxiety that had simmered in the forefront of Martin’s mind ever since he’d gotten the original call that Daisy was in trouble flared up. Why were the cops here?
“How are you doing?” The sheriff reached out to take Daisy’s hand, her demeanor managing to convey sensitive concern and stony law enforcement officer determination at the same time.
“Is everything all right?” Martin asked, a tense knot already forming in the middle of his gut.
The sheriff nodded. “I’m here for the next service. Unless I get called away.” She glanced at the wide expanse of glass at the front of the lobby, and then looked toward the open door of a classroom. “Do you have a minute?” she asked Daisy.
“Of course.”
They all moved away from the windows, where Daisy would have been an easy target for anyone driving by, and into the small room.
“I thought you might want a quick update,” the sheriff said.
“You’ve got a lead on Daltrey and Bunker?” Daisy asked.
The hint of eager hopefulness in Daisy’s voice nearly broke Martin’s heart. Of all the people in the world, why did caring, kindhearted Daisy Lopez have to go through this torment? He shook his head slightly at the pointlessness of the question. How many times had he asked why something terrible had happened to a good person? Many times, often in churches, like this one, during prayer. And during funerals.
Martin could do his best to live a good life. He could pray. He could lean into his faith. But the outcomes were not in Martin’s hands. It was simply not his place to understand all and figure everything out. And so often, like now, that reality was very hard to accept.
“No new leads.” The sheriff shook her head. “Not yet, I should say. Because we are going to find some. We won’t quit until we do. And I wanted to tell you about that. We’re still following all the details we can on Tony Valens, even though he is deceased, trying to get a handle on where he’s been, maybe get some video of him with someone here in town, and we’re closely studying any scrap of information that might show us how he became connected with Daltrey and Bunker.”
“Do you have any information yet on what kind of vehicle the fugitives are driving?” Daisy asked.
“Unfortunately, no. As of this morning, we didn’t have anything new on our stolen vehicle hot sheet. It’s possible they grabbed a vehicle sitting in some place where no one would notice it missing for a while. Or they may have bought something from a seller who didn’t realize the buyers were fugitives from the law.”
“Any chance you’ve gotten helpful information about their mob buddies from the feds?” Martin asked.
“They have an informant in the Miami mob and they did confirm what Mrs. Lopez overheard, that Daltrey and Bunker have fallen into disfavor with their organized crime bosses and the pressure is on for them to clean up their mess before they leave town.” She glanced meaningfully at Daisy.
Martin sighed. Instead of things getting better, it seemed like they kept spiraling more and more out of control. At some point, the criminal bosses might decide to send in their own hit team to clean up the mess. He glanced at Daisy standing beside him and a chill ran up his spine at the thought of something more happening to her. Even with dedicated law officers from multiple agencies doing their best to help her, how could they possibly capture the thugs and lock them up and keep Daisy safe?
“We’re still doing our regular beat cop work, as well,” the sheriff continued. “The highway patrol is keeping watch on the outskirts of town. Here in Jameson we’re in constant contact with car rental companies, motels and security out at the airport. We’re staying visible so they know we’re after them. Hopefully that will trigger them to panic and make a dumb move. And then we’ll have th
em.”
Voices and footsteps in the lobby signaled that people were arriving for the next church service.
“Deputy Flint will see you to your vehicle,” the sheriff said, indicating the deputy who’d been quietly standing beside her.
After saying their goodbyes, they walked with the deputy out to Martin’s truck and then started the drive back to the bail bonds office. Alvis and Millie usually attended church with Daisy, but they’d decided, for the sake of security, to stay home and go to the evening service instead. Leaving the building empty seemed risky, even with a security system. Daltrey and Bunker were assassins; they knew how to break into buildings, lie in wait, set up ambushes. Actions that once seemed paranoid felt reasonable right now.
“I’m starting to forget what normal life was like,” Daisy said as they drove down the road, both of them checking the mirrors at regular intervals to see if they were being followed. “Right now I kind of wish we’d see Daltrey and Bunker tailing us,” she added. “Just so we could face them and get this over with.” She turned to him. “It’s like the feeling in the summer when a thunderstorm is building all day and by afternoon you just want the storm to break and the rain to fall already.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t really want the hit man thunderstorm to break while we’re right here on Edison Avenue in front of Kiki’s Knitting Hut,” Martin said dryly.
“Name a better place.”
“Any place where there aren’t any civilians and where we’ve got the bad guys surrounded by a ring of cops so they can’t possibly get away.”
“You’re right,” she said. “That would be better. I’m just getting tired of all of this. And short-tempered.”
And in physical pain, Martin thought. She’d been banged up pretty good a couple of times now. “Nobody can blame you for wanting it to be over.”
He was taking a circuitous route back to Peak Bail Bonds to make it easier to spot anyone following them, and also because an unpredictable route could foil any attempt at ambushing them on the way back to the office.
“Ah, Fiesta Charlie’s,” Daisy said as they passed a strip mall with a restaurant. “When we were in high school the onion rings there practically called out to me until I came and got some.”
“I remember,” Martin said, glancing at the weather-beaten sign showing a taco wearing a top hat, holding a cane and looking like it was dancing. The year he lived in Jameson, it seemed like he and Aaron and Daisy ended up here every Saturday with a crowd of friends. It felt like being surrounded by extended family. And it had given Martin a warm feeling that he had savored after so much time in the chilly atmosphere surrounding his parents at his home in Stone River.
His great-aunt and -uncle who had invited him here for his senior year had done so much more for him than they ever realized. That was ten years ago, and both had since passed away. But they’d left a legacy in his heart. Their faith had shown him a way to live that had helped him survive some dark times.
Daisy and her family had made an impact, too. They were woven into his life and he couldn’t imagine carrying on without them.
Seeing Fiesta Charlie’s reminded Martin of how hard he’d fallen for Daisy by the end of his senior year. And how that teenage emotion had deepened into more meaningful feelings for her over the years.
But that didn’t change the fact that Martin would not be able to make a new, more complicated relationship with Daisy work. It wasn’t in him. And if they tried, he knew Daisy would ultimately feel disappointed in him. And the most precious relationship in his life would be gone.
“Now I really want some onion rings,” Daisy said. “Quick, pull in before we pass it.”
Martin kept going. She was tired and impatient and off her game right now. Daltrey and Bunker had to be at the point where they were willing to do anything to get the situation cleaned up and over with. Which meant they could be anywhere. Even behind them in traffic right now, unnoticed. This was not the time to take any chances with Daisy’s safety, not even a small one.
“I’ll take you home and then I’ll come back and get you onion rings,” he said.
He would do anything he could to keep Daisy safe. And he would not let this experience ruin his relationship with her. Emotionally, he would cool things down. It was that, or risk losing her forever.
TEN
“This was a good idea,” Martin said. “Checking out sporting goods stores might actually get us somewhere.”
“Of course it’s a good idea,” Daisy said, grinning broadly at him when he turned to her. “It’s my idea.” Yesterday’s church service had lifted her spirits considerably, leaving her energized and more optimistic than she’d been since the pursuit of Daltrey and Bunker had taken such a personal turn when they’d kidnapped her mother.
Martin rolled his eyes and gave her a begrudging half smile in return. But at least it was something. Last night, and again this morning, when he and Daisy along with Millie and Alvis had been brainstorming ideas on what to do next, Martin had been uncharacteristically quiet. He’d offered ideas related to the fugitives, but other than that he hadn’t had much to say.
“Are you mad at me?” she asked as they pulled into the Outdoor Fun parking lot and then sat for a moment as they looked around to make sure the situation was safe before exiting the truck.
“Why would I be mad?” he asked. “What did you do?”
“That’s what I’m trying to find out.” Walking on eggshells was not Daisy’s style. “Have you got a problem with me? Are you sick? Because I’m getting the feeling something is wrong.”
He blew out an impatient puff of air. “Yeah. People are trying to kill you.”
“I know that,” she said. “Believe me.” She was tempted to point to one of the many injuries on her body. Every time she moved, something hurt. Not cry-out-loud pain. More like an occasional groan. The cut that Tony Valens had made near her collarbone was itching like crazy again. And the amount of makeup she needed to put on her face to hide the bruises made her look like a clown.
So, yeah, she was reminded nearly every waking minute that someone was trying to kill her. But this was Martin, a man who was rarely in a bad mood. And she herself had been pretty frustrated and tired yesterday, so this might be the time for her to cut him a little slack and just drop it.
“I don’t see anybody in the parking lot watching us,” she said. She grabbed a few of her trusty photo printouts of the two fugitives. The managers at the three other sporting goods stores they’d already visited this morning had promised to post the pictures someplace where shoppers could see them. Hopefully, they would actually do it. Daisy had tweaked Bunker’s photo so that it showed him without his mustache and with his hair dyed blond. Daltrey’s photo on the other half of the page had a caption saying he’d probably changed his appearance. The pages also contained contact information for Peak Bail Bonds.
Daisy headed straight for the store’s front door while Martin stayed a couple of steps behind her. She could see his reflection in the glass door, his head on a swivel, constantly turning it while scanning their surroundings.
Inside, she walked over to the main counter, introduced herself and Martin as bounty hunters and asked to see the manager. A few minutes later, she was talking to a middle-aged, bearded man in a plaid flannel shirt and khakis. His name was Roger and he followed local news pretty closely, so he was familiar with the hunt for Daltrey and Bunker. And he was more than willing to help in their capture.
“Have you seen the men in here?” Daisy asked. She placed a photo on the counter and Roger picked it up to get a better look. “Hair color and length could be different than what you see in these photos or what has been shown on the news. They also might have added glasses, been speaking with faked accents, things like that to try and throw people off their trail.”
Roger slowly shook his head. “I don’t remember seeing either of them.”
He looked up at Daisy. “But we get a lot of customers through here.” He gestured toward the cavernous main floor of the store that was filled with everything from tents to baseball bats. “It’s possible they’ve been here. A lot of shoppers come in that I never actually see.”
“This one may have bought a hunting-bow setup here,” Daisy said, tapping Ivan Bunker’s picture.
“Oh, well let’s go talk to the lead sales rep in that department.”
Roger led the way and introduced Daisy and Martin to Tina, who did indeed remember Ivan Bunker coming into the store. “Yeah, I waited on him. I think it was three or four days ago. Sold him a fiberglass hunting bow, arrows and some gloves. He and his buddy—” she tapped the photo of Daltrey “—bought a couple of sleeping bags, some granola bars and a few other things.” She shook her head and looked up at Daisy. “Man, I didn’t make the connection between them and the men the cops were looking for. This Daltrey guy has a shaved head, now. Wears dark-rimmed glasses.”
“Would you have sales records of the transaction?” she asked, glancing at the store manager. “Something with credit card information.”
“They paid in cash,” the clerk said. “I was surprised. The total was a little over eight hundred dollars.”
“Did either of them flirt or chitchat with you? Tell you where they were going to be camping? What they were going to be doing?” Daisy prodded.
The clerk shook her head. “They didn’t have much to say. Just wanted to get their gear and get out of here.”
“Okay.” Daisy took a breath. “Security video.” She glanced around and could see several cameras in the store. “You obviously have security video.”
Roger, who’d been waiting nearby all this time, shook his head. “I’m sorry, but we have a strict rule about only releasing store video to law enforcement.”
