Sudden Setup

by Barb Han

  “I can’t see a man like Maverick Mike retiring from anything,” Holden pointed out.

  “True. I got the impression he had other plans. Maybe he was thinking of doing something different. Ever since he’d turned sixty-five he’d been acting strange.”

  “How so? Like midlife-crisis, go-out-and-buy-a-corvette strange?” he asked.

  “Not really. My father never really denied himself cars or much of anything else he wanted. It was more like something was stirring. There was a new excitement in his tone that I hadn’t heard in a few years.” She shrugged. “At the time I thought it had something to do with Andrea. Maybe he was considering his legacy.”

  “I owe an apology for what I’m about to say, but from what my father said about yours, Maverick Mike didn’t seem the type to wax altruistic. Don’t get me wrong, he was a good man on many counts.” Holden figured she was remembering her father how she might’ve wanted him to be instead of the man he was, flawed. He’d done the same with his own father, who also happened to be a good man. It was so easy to forget the imperfections of someone who was never coming back.

  “I can see why outsiders would feel that way about him,” she said. “But Dad had another side to him that even I rarely ever saw.”

  “A side that makes you think it’s possible for a scorned woman to wiggle her way into his heart and then try to destroy him?” he asked.

  “I learned a long time ago not to put people in boxes, Mr. Crawford,” she said as she stared right at him.

  He could concede that point. He’d seen himself in the mirror at the diner—the person he’d become—and yet she trusted him, his word. Despite what his appearance might’ve cautioned her. Having seen it for himself, he was shocked at the transformation. A shave didn’t sound like the worst thing.

  Maybe it was time to clean up.

  “Morning will come early,” he said after giving her a protein bar and finishing one off himself.

  “Good night, Holden,” Ella said before rolling onto her other side so her back was to him.

  He shouldn’t like the sound of his name on her tongue. Hell, he shouldn’t be thinking about her tongue at all.

  * * *

  ELLA WOKE THE next morning thinking about what Holden Crawford had said to her last night. There were so many possibilities roaring through her head as she blinked her eyes open to find an empty room. She pushed up onto her elbows to get a better view and panic roared through her when she realized he was gone.

  The makeshift pillow he’d placed underneath her head was still there. She forced herself to stand on shaky legs and ignored the pounding at that spot on her forehead between her eyes. A little bit of rest was almost worse than no sleep. She moved to the door to check on his motorcycle. Relief washed over her when she saw it.

  Holden Crawford. She liked the sound of his name.

  There was a bottle of water on the kitchen counter and something bright yellow positioned next to it. She moved closer to get a good look—a toothbrush. Funny how little things mattered so much when everything was taken away. Being able to wash her face and brush her teeth, things she took for granted literally every day, suddenly felt like gifts from heaven. Ella brushed her teeth in the sink using water from the bottle and used one of the rolled-up shirts that she’d slept on as a wash rag. She doused it and washed her face. The cool liquid felt so good on her skin. Next, she poured water into her hair and then finger-combed it, figuring that was better than nothing.

  The door opened and Holden walked in, balancing two tin mugs of what looked like coffee.

  “It’s strong,” he said, holding out the offering.

  “Good. I need it,” she replied, taking the cup and wasting no time sipping. Seriously, this was heaven in a cup. “How do you do this? It’s amazing.”

  “Let’s just say I’ve had a lot of practice,” he said with a look that seemed so lonely and yet so resigned at the same time.

  “Why is it you have two cups?” she asked. “Being that you’ve been alone for a while.”

  He chuckled and it was a low rumble from deep in his chest. “I always have a backup for the important things. I never know how quickly I’ll have to abandon a place. Plus, one’s always clean and ready to go.”

  “Makes sense,” she said after another sip of the fresh brew. “This is the best coffee I’ve ever had.”

  He produced another protein bar.

  “In your condition, boiled mud would taste good.” He laughed a low rumble from his chest and it sent goose bumps racing up her arms.

  “I doubt it,” she countered, taking the offering and finishing it in a few bites.

  “There’s something about coffee brewed over an open fire that makes it taste better,” he conceded, rewarding her with a smile.

  “Not better. Heavenly,” she said, returning the friendly gesture. “I’ve been thinking about everything that’s happened to me, my father.”

  “What did you come up with?” he asked.

  “My father’s murder seemed planned and, as you already said, like someone wasn’t just making sure he was dead. He or she was making their frustration known.”

  Holden nodded, listening. For someone who, by his own admission, wasn’t great at talking, he excelled at listening.

  “My attacks seem just as calculated. And so we have to decide if these two could possibly be linked,” she continued. “Maybe he planned my father’s murder and now wants to get rid of his heirs, or doesn’t feel the need to take extra precautions with me. Maybe this person is just interested in taking me out and possibly my siblings next. We don’t know if the others have been targeted and won’t until I make contact.” She brought her hand up. “Which I won’t do unless you say it’s okay, and besides, I don’t have a phone. But if we figure out who killed my father, then we might be led to the guy who’s after me and possibly them. And I’m making myself sick with worry about what might happen next. What if they get hurt or worse because I didn’t warn them? How could I live with myself?”

  He waited until he seemed sure she was finished.

  “I understand if you want to search for the person who killed your father,” he said. “The sheriff is already on the case and could have an answer soon.”

  “I keep going back and forth in my mind, but there must be some link, right?”

  He shot her a look that said he wasn’t convinced. “I recommend focusing our energy on who’s coming after you.”

  “I guess I’m not much good to my father’s investigation if I’m dead,” she conceded.

  “Won’t happen on my watch,” he said, and she believed that he meant it. She wished for half of his confidence. “It’ll be best if you call in your statement to the sheriff. He might offer to arrange witness protection and you should consider it. After all, you’re a high-profile case and you’re being targeted. The feds will most likely offer assistance.”

  “What about you?” she asked, a little stunned at the suggestion.

  “I can’t go near anyone in law enforcement,” he said emphatically. “And I need you to leave it at that.”

  Ella stopped herself from asking why. “I won’t ask for details you’re not willing to give. But I’m curious why you think law enforcement wouldn’t help you, too.”

  “Simple. Because the evidence they have makes them believe I’m guilty of something I didn’t do.” He looked at her dead on.

  She did her best not to flinch at his last words. “There’s more to the story, though.”

  “Hell, yeah. But they think they’ve done their jobs. All I have to contradict the investigation is my word and the knowledge that I’m innocent,” he said, and she figured that was more than he’d planned to say by the way he leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees. That was a move reserved for people who felt exposed.

  Ella took a sip of coffee, and it was pretty much a stal
l tactic so she could think hard about her next words. She didn’t want to anger the man who was helping her or offend him. But she’d always been bad at holding her tongue. “You don’t strike me as the kind of person who would just check out and give up so easily.” He started to say something but she held out her hand, palm up. “Hold on. Before you get upset with me. Hear me out.”

  He nodded but she could tell there were a whole string of words backing up on the tip of his tongue. Lucky for her, he bit them back.

  “You’ve put yourself in jeopardy twice to save me, and I’m someone you’ve never met.” She made eyes at him. “Granted, you knew my father but he’s gone. You didn’t have to come back that second time. So as much as you want me to believe otherwise, you’re not a bad person.”

  He opened his mouth to speak but she pointed her index finger at him.

  “You’re about to mention my father,” she stated, already figuring out his next argument based on the look in his eyes.

  Holden nodded this time, making a frustrated-looking gesture about being forced to hold his tongue.

  “I know what you’re thinking and it’s not true. You already repaid the debt to him,” she said. “You didn’t have to come back even if you blamed yourself for dropping me off. You’re a decent man no matter how much you blame yourself for whatever happened in the past. I understand why you refuse to go there with a stranger. You say it’s because you’re afraid for me, but it’s so much more than that.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Holden crossed his massive arms over his chest. “Enlighten me.”

  “From my point of view, you’re afraid to let anyone else in,” she stated. She was finished so she steadied herself for his argument, bracing herself against the counter.

  Except now, Holden Crawford really was mute.

  Chapter Seven

  “Since you know me so well, tell me, what’s our next step?” Holden asked the woman who left him scratching his head. She was perceptive and thought she’d figured him out. She was wrong. Keeping her at a distance was more for her benefit than his. It was the best way to protect her and keep her safe.

  Wasn’t it? Or was there a shred of truth to her words?

  “We find a way to tell the sheriff what happened last night,” she stated, interrupting his thoughts. “In order to do that, we have to leave here. How’s that for starters?”

  “Obvious but decent,” he responded.

  “Okay, so where will we go? You’ve been successfully hiding in rural areas for a while, so I’m guessing you’ll stick to what you know. We’ll stay somewhere around here.” She had a self-satisfied grin and just enough defiance in her eyes to rile him up.

  “Sorry. No dice,” he stated. “We leave Texas. That’s a given. I have a contact in New Mexico who will put us up. I want to stay close and keep my ear to the ground for a few days but we need to stay on the move. We’ll head south for an hour and then stop to make the call to the sheriff. Then we can retrace our steps and head west. If the sheriff is going to catch this person, his best chance is while the trail is still hot. If he hasn’t made progress in a few days, a week, then we’ll have to find a way to get answers ourselves. Interfere too soon and we might hamper his investigation.”

  “Is this New Mexico person you’re referring to a woman by chance?” Ella asked, and there was a mix of emotion playing out behind her eyes that he couldn’t quite pinpoint.

  “As a matter of fact, yes. Why?” He couldn’t wait to hear the answer to this.

  She shrugged him off but he could’ve sworn that she’d bristled. “Curious.”

  And then it hit him. She was worried they were about to be on their way to see a woman he’d spent time with. “She’s—”

  “None of my business,” Ella stated.

  “A friend of my father’s,” he continued. It was important to him that she knew the truth for reasons he didn’t want to analyze. “She was sixty-seven on her last birthday.”

  Ella’s cheeks flushed and he forced himself not to think about how attractive it made her, how attractive she already was.

  “Finish your coffee. We need to get on the road,” he said, harsher than he’d intended.

  An hour south, he stopped off at the first megaconvenience store and bought a cell phone with prepaid minutes before returning to Ella outside. “Using this will keep us under the radar. If the call is somehow tracked, which should be impossible, we’ll take the precaution of tossing it away as soon as we’re done. Do you know the numbers of your brothers or sister?”

  “Without my cell?” Ella shifted her weight to her left foot and her gaze darted up and to the left. “How sad is it that I tap on a name when I want to call someone and don’t remember phone numbers anymore?”

  “What about the ranch?” he asked.

  “That one I know. It hasn’t changed since we had to memorize our phone number and address in elementary school,” she stated. “Are you saying I can call home?”

  Holden handed over the cell and nodded.

  After punching in numbers and listening for someone to pick up, her face lit up.

  “May, it’s me, Ella.” Her excitement was barely contained. The sparkle in her eyes matched.

  Holden dropped his gaze to the ground and listened.

  “I’m fine, but please don’t tell anyone that I called other than my brothers and sister.” She paused for a beat. “I promise that I’m okay. Do I have your word?” Another few seconds passed. “So you have heard from all three of them? And they’re okay.”

  Ella looked at Holden, so he brought his gaze up to meet her gaze. She nodded and smiled. The relief in her expression detailed just how much she loved her siblings.

  “The next time you talk to them, tell them to stay out of sight until the sheriff figures this out,” she said into the phone. “And tell them I’ll do the same.” Another beat passed. “No, tell both of my brothers to stay put. I’m nowhere near the ranch and I won’t be. I appreciate that they want to stop whoever’s doing this but they can help me more if they stay out of the media and away from danger.”

  Good. She was giving the right direction.

  “Tell them it won’t matter because I’m not coming back until this is over,” she stated, and there was conviction in her voice—conviction that would keep her brothers alive and she seemed to know it. “Just tell them that I love them both and I’m safe. No one can hurt me because they’ll never find me.”

  Holden had every intention of making sure she kept that promise.

  “I’m good,” she continued, “and, more important, safe.” She glanced up at Holden. “I’m in good hands, May. But that’s all I can say right now.”

  May seemed to accept Ella’s answers.

  “I need to call the sheriff and give a statement now, so I have to go.” Her face morphed and gave the saddest look Holden believed he’d ever seen. It caused his chest to clutch.

  “I will,” Ella promised. After a few more affirmations into the phone and an almost-tearful goodbye, Ella ended the call. She looked away and Holden gave her a little time to gather herself.

  Missing a home like Hereford had to be hell. Holden and his father had moved around during his childhood. His father had served in the military and Holden had signed up the day after graduating from high school. There was no place that made him feel like Ella’s Hereford.

  Ella spun around and took in a breath. “Okay. I’m ready to call the sheriff now.”

  The conversation was brief. An all-too-familiar anger rumbled in Holden’s chest as he listened to the details of Ella being ambushed and then hunted while she bled. He could hear the fear in her voice as she recounted the scene and her vulnerability made him want to put his hands on the man who was trying to kill her. His own past, the horror that his girlfriend, Karen, had endured, filled his chest with rage. The image of the crime scene flashed in his thoughts�
�an image that had replayed a thousand times in his nightmares for the past two years. Karen splayed across his bed in a pool of blood, her pajamas torn half off her body. The blade of his KA-BAR jammed through her heart.

  “Holden,” Ella’s voice caught him off guard, breaking through his heavy thoughts.

  “Yeah?” he responded, even though his clenched jaw had fought against movement. His hands were fisted at his sides and his muscles pulled taut.

  She stood there, examining him, and her penetrating gaze threatened to crack through his walls.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “I will be.” He handed her the helmet and threw his leg over the bike. “Ready?”

  * * *

  BY THE TIME they reached Rose’s place near the Texas border in Ruidoso, New Mexico, the desert air was cold and Ella shivered. Eight hours on the back of a motorcycle had seemed to take a toll on Ella, but she didn’t complain.

  He’d stopped off three times for bathroom breaks but had barely spoken to her. Talking about himself had dredged up memories. Remembering his pain was good because being around Ella made him want to forget, to move on. Karen was dead. His father was dead. Holden had been accused of the murders. Those were the only facts that mattered.

  “Rose Naples is an artist who specializes in Southwest art,” Holden said to Ella as he parked his motorcycle behind her rustic brown log cabin with a green tin roof. “She’s lived here most of her life and she and my father went to elementary school together. They stayed in touch but very few people ever knew about her. She leads a quiet life. We’ll have food and shelter.”

  “After eight hours on a bike, all I need is a hot shower and a soft bed,” Ella said. She no doubt picked up on the change in him. Good. She needed to stay at arm’s length. “I take that back—the bed doesn’t even need to be soft.”

  He started toward the door and she put her hand on his arm. He ignored the fission of heat that was like a lightning bolt to his heart.

  “She’ll be safe, right?” she asked. “I mean, us being here won’t put her in jeopardy, will it?”