by Katie Ruggle
When his hand grasped the doorknob instead of reaching for her throat, she stared at him. With a hard twist of his wrist, he yanked the door open and then looked at her expectantly. A hard breath shuddered into her lungs. Had she not been breathing this whole time? It was an easy thing to lose track of while waiting to be murdered.
“Oh…um.” She took the final step to the now-open door. “Thank you? Sorry for…ah, intruding.” Slipping through the opening, she hurried away from the room, jumping as she heard it close behind her with a loud snap. It was only after she’d reached her car and was cocooned in the familiar safety of the driver’s seat that the danger really hit her, and her breathing sped up until she was taking in short, rapid puffs of air.
That was the closest she’d ever come to dying. What a failure of a bounty hunter she was. If it had been Molly or Felicity or Charlie trapped in the room with Kavenski, her sisters would’ve had him tackled and cuffed before he could even glare at them. It was mortifying that the only reason Cara managed to escape was because a known killer had stepped aside and opened the door for her.
As her breathing gradually slowed, she started the car, her fingers trembling just a little now. “It’s okay,” she told herself out loud. “You just need to walk before you can run. Work your way to the upper levels, rather than jumping right into them.” It was clear, now that she’d seen him in all his close-up power and glory, that Henry Kavenski was not a skip for a beginner bounty hunter. He’d known that she’d been following him, and he’d obviously set her up to catch her breaking into his room. She needed to find a skip who was a little less deadly and a lot dumber.
Remembering to bring her Taser would be a good idea, too.
As she pulled away from the curb, she felt a strange curl of disappointment in her belly. She should’ve been relieved by her decision to leave Henry Kavenski to other, braver, more experienced bounty hunters, but a part of her didn’t want to give him up. After following him around and learning everything she could about him, she’d become, oddly enough, a touch possessive.
She firmly quashed the thought. It was time to focus on a new skip, one whose worst crime was jaywalking or tearing tags off mattresses.
Pressing down on the accelerator, she left the run-down motel and Henry Kavenski behind.
* * *
Two days later, Cara was regretting her decision to leave Kavenski to the professionals…well, the more professional professionals. She clicked through the pile of jobs she’d lined up and made a face. None of them were even close to the bail bond he’d skipped on, and the fifteen percent fee seemed paltry compared to what they’d get for bringing Kavenski in.
“That’s the problem, genius,” she muttered to herself, tapping the side of her laptop with an anxious fingertip. “You’d have to actually bring him in.”
With a Taser or her sisters’ help, she probably could manage that, but the real issue was that she honestly didn’t want to. There weren’t a lot of killers—or criminals of any sort—who would’ve just let her walk away unharmed. It made her wonder if he really was the vicious killer he was accused of being.
“You’re such a sucker.” With a sigh, she shut down her computer. “You just think he’s pretty.”
“Who’s pretty?” Her twin, Charlie, charged into the kitchen, heading directly to the fridge. Warrant immediately hopped up from his sprawl under the table to follow her, obviously hoping for snacks.
Trying to disguise her guilty jump by standing up and slipping her laptop into her backpack, Cara blinked innocently at her sister. “One of the skips.” It wasn’t a lie.
Charlie frowned at the contents of the fridge before closing the door and grabbing a banana. “Whose turn is it to get groceries? Things are looking a little desperate in there.” Leaning her hip against the counter, she raised an eyebrow at Cara. “Speaking of desperate… A skip? Really?”
Despite her discomfort about talking—even indirectly—about the mess she’d made of her encounter with Kavenski, Cara had to laugh. “Come on. You can’t tell me that, of all the hundreds of skips we’ve handled, you’ve never found any remotely attractive?”
Charlie grinned around her bite of banana, conceding the point without saying a word.
Zipping her backpack, Cara hauled it over her shoulder and glanced at the time on her phone. “Got to get to class. And it’s your turn.”
“My turn for what?”
“Getting groceries. Don’t bring home only junk this time, or Felicity will make you run extra laps.” Cara headed for the door as her twin gave a dramatic groan.
“Fine, but I’m still getting Lucky Charms.”
“It’s your funeral,” Cara called as she stepped outside and closed the door behind her, rather proud that she’d managed to wiggle out of what could’ve been an awkward conversation. As she headed toward where her car was parked on the driveway, she felt an uneasy prickle on the back of her neck. Trying to look casual, she glanced down the street, but there weren’t any parked cars in sight. Her gaze roamed over the neighborhood, but it all looked quiet. Even the ever-present breeze had settled, leaving only the scuff of her shoes against the concrete to break the eerie silence.
“Stop it,” she ordered herself. “You’re getting paranoid.” Just to be on the safe side, though, she scanned the trees next to the house, looking for anything suspicious. Since they’d gotten an alarm system installed, the attempted break-ins had dropped significantly, but there was still the occasional treasure hunter trying their luck. Thanks for that, Mom.
The forest was still and dark. Despite the lack of any suspicious figures hiding in the shadows, the prickle of unease intensified, and she hurried back to yank open the door.
“Charlie!” she called.
“Yeah?” Charlie stepped into view.
“Make sure to set the alarm when you leave.” Still unsettled by the odd stillness of the forest, she frowned. “Or if you stay. And lock the door.”
Charlie straightened, meeting Cara’s gaze steadily. “Trouble outside?”
“Nothing I can see. Just a feeling.”
“Got it.” From Charlie’s sober tone, Cara knew she wouldn’t blow off the warning.
“Thanks.”
Dropping her serious expression, Charlie made shooing motions with her hands. “Now get to class before you’re late.”
Cara gave her a mock salute before closing the door and hurrying to the car. She hoped that they’d find their mom soon—as well as the valuable necklace Jane had stolen—so that their lives could go back to normal. Maybe it was wrong to hope that her only surviving parent would be back in jail, but Cara didn’t care. Jane had really screwed them over this time. If she hadn’t stolen the necklace, used their house for collateral on her bail bond, and then skipped town, then Cara would be happily attending classes and doing her usual research. Instead, Cara was scanning the bushes for danger and breaking into murderers’ motel rooms.
Accused murderers, her brain corrected, and she sighed. It was probably a good thing she’d sworn off chasing after Henry Kavenski. As far as he was concerned, she had a hard time staying objective. He hadn’t killed her, after all.
Plus he really was incredibly pretty.
Chapter 2
Her child development theories class was a good distraction from the utter chaos of the rest of her life. The two hours flew by, and she was disappointed when it ended and all her worries crashed back down on her. Not wanting to return to dealing with skips and the possibility of burglars lurking in her backyard, she dragged out the process of packing up her bag.
When she was the last one in the classroom, she knew she couldn’t delay any longer. It was time to dive back into the less-fun parts of her life. Heaving her backpack over her shoulder, she headed for the corridor. The classroom was on the third floor of Meyers Hall, an ancient brick building that was stiflingly hot in the summer and
as cold as a walk-in freezer in the winter. The majority of the students had already made their way outside, and the few remaining were making their way toward the stairs.
Cara followed slowly, still reluctant to get home and have to think about which skip she would choose to take the place of Henry Kavenski. The soles of her tennis shoes squeaked slightly against the highly polished floor, and the sound echoed through the hall, making her realize how quiet it had become. The classrooms had emptied and the rest of the straggling students had disappeared, leaving her alone.
Even as she told herself she was being silly, she couldn’t help but tense. Her pace quickened, the sound of her hurried footsteps making her even more aware of how horror-movie-like her situation was. She tried to be amused by it, but it was hard to laugh at her very real apprehension as she rushed toward the stairs. All the crazy and dangerous things that had been happening to her and her sisters lately made her see menace in everything.
“Hey, Cara Pax.”
She whirled around, a shriek of surprise trapped in her throat. As soon as she saw who’d spoken, she was glad that the startled sound hadn’t made it out. The little weasel had intentionally tried to scare her, and she would’ve hated to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d succeeded.
“What are you doing here, Stuart?” she asked, wanting to keep walking toward the stairs but not trusting the creep enough to turn her back. Moving backward away from him felt too much like running, and she wasn’t scared of the little punk. He’d been one of the many who tried to break into their house. Since Molly and John had caught him in the act, he’d been popping up around campus wherever Cara happened to be. He seemed to have a mistaken impression that she knew where her mom had hidden the stolen necklace.
“Why are most students in a campus building?” He really did have the most punchable smirk in the history of the world. “What do you think I’m doing here?”
Irritation surged at the question, and she pivoted toward the stairs, too annoyed to be worried about what he’d do if her back was turned. “Quit stalking me.”
His low laugh followed her, and she straightened her shoulders, fighting the urge to glance back. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing just how creepy she found him. He was trying to frighten her. What he didn’t realize was that she dealt with scarier people every day. She’d faced down Henry Kavenski. After that, Stuart seemed like small potatoes.
Still, Stuart’s mocking laugh did make her uneasy, as much as she tried to hide it. Campus was her escape from the stress of her sisters’ bounty hunting business, and knowing he was lurking around her, following her, ruined that feeling of safety.
Anger filled her as she rushed down the stairs, her shoes thumping on each step, creating enough of a clatter that she couldn’t hear anything else that Stuart tried to say. When she reached the ground floor, she couldn’t keep herself from glancing up to see if he’d followed her. The stairs were poorly lit, the steps quickly disappearing into the gloom, and she felt the prickle of goose bumps ghost down her spine.
That’s what he wants, the reasonable part of her brain said. He wants to freak you out.
Despite knowing that, she still had to hide a shiver as she shoved through the door out into the late afternoon sunshine. As she strode toward the parking lot, pretending that she wasn’t relieved to see the clusters of students scattered around the area, Cara set her jaw. No more chickening out. She was going to bring in a skip and show her sisters that she could be useful in the field. That way, Charlie and Felicity could focus on finding their mom and bringing her back.
Cara was going to do whatever she had to in order to get their lives back to normal. She only had to be a badass for a short time, and then she could go back to worrying about normal things, like class projects and finding a student-teaching position next semester and whose turn it was to clean the bathroom.
Her cell phone dinged, the ringtone telling her it was a work call, and she pulled it out with brisk motions, caught up in a wave of determination. “Pax Bail Recovery.”
“Hey, there.” Barney’s slimy voice made her wrinkle her nose. Between him and Stuart, she was getting a full dose of creeps today. “Which pretty Pax sister am I talking to?”
“This is Cara. How can I help you?” She put on her best professional tone. Before everything happened, she would’ve blown him off as quickly as possible, but now that he held their mom’s bail bond—which meant he’d own their house if she didn’t show up for her next hearing—she had to be polite to him, which just about killed her. That was another thing that needed to go back to normal as quickly as possible. She was going to relish being able to hang up on Barney again.
“I have a job for you.”
She had to bite her tongue to hold back a groan. The last skip Barney had wanted them to bring in had almost killed Molly multiple times, and Cara and her sisters had almost been blown up.
At her silence, Barney hurried to add, “He’s nothing like the last one. This one’ll be easy. A walk in the park. I’m actually doing you a favor by telling you about him.”
His protestations were just making her more wary. “What’s he being charged with?”
“Tax evasion. He owes enough that the judge set his bail high.”
That was promisingly non-violent. “Send over his file, and we’ll consider it.”
Barney’s grunt didn’t sound too happy that she wasn’t accepting the job immediately, but he just said, “Fine,” and hung up.
Cara had barely gotten into her car before her phone alerted her that she had an email. Still suspicious why Barney was so desperate to have them bring in a simple tax-evading skip, rather than siccing his own bounty-hunting dogs on the guy, she opened the file on her phone. After scanning the information, she was frowning more deeply. The skip, Geoffrey Abbott, appeared to be an easy job on the surface, but the name teased her brain. It sounded oddly familiar.
Setting down her phone, she turned on her car, eager to get home and research the guy. He might be just what she was looking for to replace Henry Kavenski as her first successful capture. Her mood lifting for the first time since Stuart had popped out of the shadows, she backed out of her parking space and headed home.
* * *
Climbing out of her car, she paused, pretending to check her phone as she fought to push away the urge to jump back in and drive away as fast as she could. She’d only been to Dutch’s Bar once, but that had been in the middle of the day with Molly. At night, it was exponentially creepier. The warehouses surrounding the bar seemed to loom over the space, creating shadowed places where any number of dangerous people could be lurking. The bar, which had looked nondescript and slightly dingy in the full sunlight, now gave off a menacing air, making Cara sure she wouldn’t be welcome or safe there. That didn’t matter, though. She was determined to follow through on this job, and that meant checking out his possible hangouts…including Dutch’s.
She slid her hand over the lump the Taser made in her jacket pocket. The presence of the weapon gave her courage, and she pulled up the photo of Geoffrey Abbott, getting his image freshly lodged in her brain. Slipping her phone back in her other pocket—the Taser-less one—she pulled back her shoulders and strode toward the entrance.
Her confidence wavered as the bouncer eyed her suspiciously, his sharp gaze running over her as if he could see the Taser despite it being hidden in her jacket pocket. She hoped that he wouldn’t conduct a pat down, and then wondered if that would be legal for a civilian. Making a mental note to look up the Colorado statute as soon as she had a quiet moment, she focused on the big guy in front of her.
His hand extended, palm out, and Cara offered her driver’s license, bracing herself for what she knew was coming. Even though she was legal by almost four full years, she was used to the disbelieving squints. Her small stature and baby face—including dimples—made her appear younger than she was.
She’d pulled her dark hair back into a severe bun, to keep it out of grabbing range as well as to make her look more like a serious professional, and she hoped it didn’t make her look like a teenager playing dress-up.
The bouncer’s gaze flicked between her and the license several times, and his frown deepened.
Cara sighed as she dug out her wallet. “That really is my authentic, legal license. See? The same birthdate as my student ID.”
“Why are you here?” the bouncer asked in a warning rumble.
“Uh…” She didn’t expect to be questioned about her motives before she even got inside the place. What kind of dive bar was this? “To have a few drinks, maybe dance a little. Do, you know, bar things.”
“Bar things,” he repeated expressionlessly, and she nodded too quickly.
“Bar things.”
His sigh was deep enough to make his enormous shoulders sag for a moment, and she was pretty sure she was about to be sent away. To her surprise, he handed back her IDs and motioned toward the door. “Don’t blow anything up.”
“I’ll do my best.” She would’ve made a comment about how that was a strange thing to say, except that a skip Molly was chasing had blown a hole in the bathroom wall just a few weeks ago. Besides, she was just glad the bouncer hadn’t searched her and found her Taser.
Slipping inside before he could change his mind, she looked around, getting her bearings. The bar wasn’t as intimidating as she’d expected. It was smaller than the building it was in would’ve suggested, with a fairly good-sized crowd. Loud old-school rock pounded through the space, and the usual beery, sweaty bar smell filled her nose. She’d half-expected the music to screech to a stop when she entered as everyone turned to stare, but no one even seemed to notice her entrance.
She took a few deep breaths before moving toward the bar. After the whole motel-room incident, she’d planned better this time. This was simply a reconnaissance mission. Even if she spotted Abbott, she wouldn’t try to make contact. The most she’d do was follow him to his car and get his plate number.
