Face of Danger

by Valerie Hansen

  Paige hadn’t felt unusually nervous until she’d lost sight of Cade. When her phone jingled again the noise made her jump. Before she could speak, however, she heard a voice whisper, “It’s me, Don’t hang up again.”

  “Angie? I can hardly hear you.”

  “I can’t talk louder.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because he’ll hear me.”

  Paige clasped the little phone so tightly her hand ached. “Who will? Where are you?”

  “At the house. I came…”

  “Angie?” Paige’s voice raised. “Angela. Answer me!”

  “Shush. Not so loud. I can hear him walking down the hallway.”

  “Listen, Angie,” Paige said, fighting to remain calm for her friend’s sake. “There’s a Ranger in there right now. Maybe that’s who you hear.”

  “There is?”

  “Yes. He’s tall and kind of blond. I gave him my keys so he could let himself in and check on you. He has a flashlight.”

  “Hang on while I look.”

  Paige held the line and her breath. There were indistinguishable, muted sounds in the background. Shuffling. A slight thud, as if a door were closing.

  Time stood still. Thunder rumbled. “Angie? Talk to me. What just happened? Hello? Hello?”

  Shivering, she peered through the pickup’s windows. Enormous drops of rain were beginning to fall. There was no illumination in the yard except that from the streetlights down the block and the irregularly spaced lightning strikes. It wasn’t pitch black out there but it sure wasn’t as bright as she liked it to be when she had to venture into the yard at night.

  Cade had disappeared around the house. That meant he’d probably already used her keys to enter through the kitchen and his were the footsteps Angie had heard.

  So, where were they now? Why hadn’t they come right out and told her everything was fine? And why couldn’t she spot an occasional glow from his flashlight through the windows?

  “Good question,” she muttered, disgusted and short of patience. That bossy, stubborn Ranger knew how worried she’d be, yet he’d left her behind to cool her heels while he took his sweet time checking the house and yard.

  Just then, Max alerted. A low growl shook his whole body and he stiffened, pressing his nose to the crack between the door and the chassis.

  “Easy, boy. He’ll be back soon.”

  Max didn’t act as if he believed a word she’d said. Neither did Paige. The house was compact enough that Cade should have been able to crawl through every room by now, let alone walk. And if Angela had shown herself, they should both have realized it was safe to come out.

  She scooted behind the steering wheel. Her hand rested on the door handle. Her fingers tightened around it. Go? Stay?

  Paige stared at her phone. It still showed a connection. She held it to her ear and shouted, “Angela! What’s going on? Talk to me!”

  A wild-eyed, dark-haired young woman burst out of the closet. In one fluid movement, Cade centered her in the flashlight’s narrow beam and leveled his gun.

  She held up her hands and screamed. “Don’t shoot!”

  “Are you Angela?”

  “Yes,” she said, sobbing and grasping the arm holding the light. “Turn that off so nobody can see us. We have to get out of here. Now.”

  “Why?” Every sense primed, Cade sandwiched the trembling young woman between himself and the closet she’d just vacated while he trained his .45 on the darkness beyond. “What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know. All the lights went out. I heard somebody sneaking around so I hid.”

  “Where did the sounds come from?”

  “The kitchen, I think.”

  “I just came through there. I didn’t run into anybody. How about the front of the house? Did you hear anything in that direction?”

  “No. Only you coming down the hall. I phoned Paige and she told me you were in here.”

  “That was you on her cell?”

  “Yes. She hung up the first time.”

  “That was my fault,” Cade said quietly. “Are you steady enough to walk with me?”

  “I—I think so. Just get me out of here.”

  “Start for the front door.” He slipped one arm around her waist so he could control her movements and steer her out of the path of his gun in case he had to fire. “I’ll be right beside you. Let’s go.”

  It was Max’s mounting frenzy that tipped the balance for Paige. She trusted that dog’s instincts far more than she trusted her own—or those of any other human being, except maybe the Ranger who had ordered her to stay precisely where he’d left her.

  What if something bad had happened to him? Or what if he and Angie were both in trouble? There hadn’t been another peep out of her phone. Not since she’d told her friend to look for Cade.

  Rain was now hitting the windshield so fiercely it was forming a solid sheet of water and making it even harder for Paige to see what was going on outside the truck.

  Her fingers tightened. The door handle moved slightly. Max apparently assumed she was about to let him out because he crouched and gathered himself like a steeple-chase horse preparing to run an obstacle course.

  “No,” Paige said firmly. “Sit. Stay.”

  He did nothing of the kind. Not only did he redouble his efforts to get out by scratching at the floor, he began to bark so loudly it hurt Paige’s ears. “I said, no!” Grabbing his collar, she forced him back so she could swing her legs between him and the door and block his escape as she pulled the handle.

  The locking mechanism had barely released when Max lunged past her and threw his full weight against the door panel.

  Paige lost her hold.

  Rocketing out, the dog hit the ground running, then made such a quick, tight turn, his claws tore up the soggy grass and threw puddled water higher than his own back. “No!”

  She made one futile grab for him and missed. Thunder rolled. Her frantic calls were muted by the roar of the rapidly worsening storm. In seconds, her hair was plastered to her head and there was so much water running down her face she could barely see.

  Temporarily stunned, she just stood there muttering, “What have I done?”

  The next zigzag of electricity hit the ground so close to Paige she felt a prickling of the fine hairs on her arms and the nape of her neck. There wasn’t enough elapsed time between the crackling of the lightning and its ensuing boom for her to count to one, let alone further.

  She’d instinctively ducked and covered herself as best she could with her arms. Now, she straightened and pushed her wet hair out of her eyes. If she had to choose between running for cover or standing there like a dummy and playing the part of a human lightning rod, it was not hard to decide which action was best.

  Lifting her denim jacket just enough to pull the back of the collar over her head for what little protection it offered, she faced into the slanted, wind-driven downpour and started around the house.

  Cade and Angela had made it down the hallway and almost to the living room when he felt her tense. He knew why. He’d heard a faint sound in the background, too. It wasn’t easy to pinpoint or evaluate. Nevertheless, something had caught their attention.

  He wasn’t going to hang around and try to figure out what. That could wait until he’d delivered Angela to Paige and had made sure his backup was on the way.

  “Open the door slowly,” Cade murmured, once again shoving her ahead to make himself her literal bodyguard. The sound of the lock releasing as she turned the knob was one of the most welcome things he’d heard in a long time.

  Angela did as she was told. Cade restrained her to keep her from bolting though the doorway before he’d had a chance to check the immediate area.

  The flashlight swept over the narrow, covered porch and down the walkway. “Okay. All clear.”

  Once outside, he continued to control her movements. “See that white truck in the driveway? That’s where we’re going. Paige is waiting for you.”


  The young woman let out a whimper and sagged against him, making it necessary for Cade to either holster his .45 for safety’s sake or let her drop into a heap at his feet. Since they were in the clear, at least for the present, he decided to swing her into his arms and carry her.

  “I’m glad you didn’t faint while we were still inside,” Cade mumbled, staring at the sheeting rain between them and the dry cab of the truck.

  He figured it was better to see that Angela was quickly and safely delivered to Paige than to take the chance that the headstrong artist would decide to come fetch her roommate. Besides, he was worried about the strong possibility of damaging hail being mixed in with the rain. Getting wet was bad enough. Being hit in the head by gobs of ice the size of golf balls was far worse. That kind of foul weather had been known to knock a full-grown steer senseless.

  In less than fifteen long strides he reached the driver’s door of the truck. Assuming that Paige could now see him, even in the near dark, he paused. The door didn’t open. He kicked it with his boot.

  “Hey! Open up. We’re drowning out here and I can’t reach my keys.”

  Nothing happened. Then lightning flashed. In that split second of illumination, Cade saw enough to realize that his worst fears had come true. The cab of the truck was empty.

  Paige discovered the kitchen door ajar and blamed Cade, scowling when she noted a glistening trail of water on the tile.

  She kept staring at that same part of the floor, waiting for another flash to allow her to see where to safely step. Although that flooring was pretty, it could be as slippery as ice when it was wet. And right now, parts of it were sopping.

  Out of patience in seconds, Paige extended her arms and groped her way to the counter. There was a penlight in the drawer where she and Angela tossed all the odd items they had no better place for. Once she laid hands on that, assuming its batteries weren’t dead, she’d feel much better.

  “Almost there,” Paige whispered. She was trembling as much from being soaked to the skin as she was from fright—or so she kept telling herself. She figured, as long as she concentrated on what she was trying to accomplish and didn’t allow herself to dwell on the fact that her surroundings were so dark, she’d be okay.

  She had to be. The most important people in her life might need her help.

  Why wasn’t she there yet? She took one more small, sideways step. Her hip bumped into something hard. Puzzled, she reached down. It was the drawer she’d been seeking. It was also open. Paige held her breath. That wasn’t normal. Neither she nor Angela could stand leaving cupboards or things like that ajar, so why was this drawer not neatly closed?

  Something crashed and startled her. It sounded as if glass had broken in another part of the house. “Max? Is that you, boy?” she called softly, tentatively.

  Waiting and straining to listen, she heard the familiar padding of her pet’s paws, first coming down the hall, then on the tile as his nails clacked against the harder surface.

  A flash from the sky outside highlighted his white markings. It was him! Paige held out a hand. “Max! Oh, Max, am I glad to see you. Where have you been?” She knelt to hug him in spite of his dripping coat while he licked her cheek.

  Moments later, her knees might have buckled if she had not already been at floor level.

  A sinister-sounding, male voice spoke from the direction of the archway leading into the hall. “Do not worry. I have been taking good care of him, Señorita.” Then, the man laughed as if he’d just told a dirty joke.

  Paige gasped and gritted her teeth to keep from screaming. Every nerve tightened. Every sense was on overload. She grabbed a handful of Max’s ruff to hold him back as he shifted to face the speaker and began to growl.

  I know that laugh, she realized without having to mull it over. This was the same man who had grabbed her when she’d been in the yard looking for Max. What else was he responsible for? And why had he singled her out?

  It took another few seconds for his use of Spanish to register in her racing thoughts. The Lions of Texas were said to be recruiting Mexican nationals to do their dirty work by promising to legally open the border. From what she could remember of this man’s face, he could be Hispanic, although her sketch had ended up looking more like the one she’d done for Corinna Pike several months ago. The lowlife who had stalked Corinna was in jail. Therefore, this had to be somebody else.

  Standing slowly, Paige gathered her courage and waited. If she could get one more good look at this man’s face, her chances of successfully drawing him would definitely increase.

  Yeah, if I live that long, she countered silently. Should she talk to him? Keep quiet? What?

  To her right, in the direction of the outside door, she thought she heard a floorboard squeak. Was he over there now? Had he moved so stealthily he’d already cut off her closest means of escape?

  There was only one way to tell. “Why are you doing this to me?” she demanded, surprised at the strength and steadiness of her voice.

  “It is my job. And you have caused me much trouble.”

  That answer came from the place where she’d last heard him. Did that mean there was someone else making noise over by the door? And if there was, how could she find out if it was Cade? It could just as easily be a henchman of the guy who was threatening her.

  If so, her chances of survival had just hit rock bottom.

  SEVENTEEN

  When Cade had discovered his truck empty he’d tried the door and found it unlocked. Placing the semi-conscious Angela on the seat, he took care to tuck in her feet before he slammed and locked the door. There was no way he could possibly watch both women unless they were all together, and since this one was now out of imminent danger, he’d have to take the chance she’d stay that way.

  He was finishing his call for backup as he circled the house for the second time. He didn’t intend to wait until other officers arrived. Paige was probably inside. And where she was, Max likely was. It would be easier to spot the partly white dog than to locate her, especially if she happened to be hiding the way Angela had been.

  “That’s assuming Paige knows what she’s walked into,” he said under his breath. Chances were she didn’t have a clue. Truth to tell, neither did he. He just hoped and prayed he’d be able to reach her before someone else beat him to it.

  Rounding the back of the house, he was positive he heard Paige’s voice. His momentary relief was quickly replaced by dread. That wasn’t the dog she was talking to, and judging by the other person’s accent, whoever it was had to be either Hispanic or a very good mimic.

  Gun drawn, he started to climb the rear porch steps. The second board he touched squeaked under his weight like a rusty hinge. Cade froze with one booted foot raised. He hadn’t noticed that noise in the past. Since everything out there was now soaked, perhaps that was why the slight shifting of the wood had given away his presence.

  He waited, listening to his heartbeats pounding in his ears and praying that no one else had heard. All he could think to ask was, Please, Lord, let me be in time.

  Nothing happened. Nothing moved, inside or out, except for tumbling, loose leaves and the copious amounts of water being carried along by the gale. Although he was soaked and freezing, Cade gave thanks that the storm’s rumbling had covered his misstep.

  Continuing to place each foot slowly, cautiously, he finally reached the doorway. Because he didn’t know where Paige was or how bad the situation might be, he didn’t dare risk turning on his flashlight or going any closer. Not yet.

  What he yearned to do was burst into the kitchen and attack. To save Paige. To hold her in his arms again and never let go.

  Instead, he took a deep breath and steeled himself for whatever was to come.

  “I warn you. I’m armed,” Paige shouted. This time, she was chagrined to hear far less confidence in her tone.

  “I will take my chances, Señorita.”

  “I got away from you before. I can do it again.” She swallowed h
ard, wishing her throat didn’t feel as if it was stuffed with dry cotton. “Did you bring help this time? You’ll need it.”

  The man’s low, ominous chuckle made her skin crawl. When he said, “I can handle a stupid woman like you with one mano tied behind my back,” she had the answer she’d sought. He was alone.

  Her thoughts refused to coalesce into anything she considered sensible. Whether Cade was close by or not, her problem was still how to reach the back door and escape before being attacked. With her heart already racing and her legs feeling as though somebody had made off with all her bones when she wasn’t looking, running for her life was out of the question.

  What if she crawled? Success would depend entirely upon a continuing lack of light to reveal her movements. The unpredictable flashes from the storm did seem to be lessening but there was still plenty of thunder rolling in the distance, making it impossible to predict the future. Still, what choice did she have? She couldn’t just stand there like a brainless mannequin.

  Holding fast to the counter for support, Paige bent her knees and eased herself toward the floor. Max had already swiveled to look toward the door.

  The moment Paige released her hold, he made a bee-line for the door and disappeared. She could only hope that he’d sensed Cade because his swift movement had caused her antagonist to curse loudly and hurl something in the dog’s direction. Whatever it was landed with a hollow thwack and gave a slight bounce.

  Paige was crawling, feeling her way with her hands. The tile was still dry wherever she touched, meaning she had not yet come close enough to the exit.

  A louder, more colorful string of shouted expletives was suddenly interrupted by a hard-sounding thud and a distinctive Spanish phrase that she wouldn’t have dreamed of translating, no matter what.

  “Freeze! Texas Rangers,” was shouted from the doorway.

  Paige hunkered down next to the cabinets and waited, expecting the explosion of gunfire at any moment.

  Instead, she heard sounds of slapping, cursing and scrambling. Drops of water showered her. The attacker had evidently stepped in the puddles Max had tracked in and her slick floor tile had claimed another victim.