by Katie Ruggle
The gun barrel shifted to point directly at Henry’s chest. Cara’s mind raced. She was out of time.
“Don’t!” She shifted, subtly bumping against Henry’s side. He stiffened at her shout, but then shifted over slightly as if he could read her mind. “After all that work you went through, kidnapping me and chasing us through the mountains and everything, you’re just going to give up on getting the evidence?” They shuffled over another tiny step, and Cara felt a spark of hope when Abbott moved to the side, keeping himself directly across from them.
“Like I said”—Abbott took aim again—“not worth it.”
Out of time, Cara bumped Henry over another step. They were in position now. The rest of her pathetic plan was up to nature.
Abbott took a deliberate step forward, his gun hand not wavering, and Cara tensed. As Abbott’s very expensive leather shoe stepped down in a patch of brush, a sage grouse burst from her hiding place just inches from his foot, flying up in a mad flutter of wings. Even though Cara had planned for that to happen, she still jerked at the movement, her tensed muscles reacting to the sudden burst of noise and motion.
Taken by complete surprise, Abbott staggered backward, his arms—and the gun—flinging up to protect his face. Recovering from her start, Cara lunged forward, ready to tackle him in her best bounty-hunter fashion. She was just a fraction of a second too late. Henry got to him first.
Moving so quickly it was hard to believe he’d almost drowned just a short time earlier, Henry hurled himself at Abbott. Grabbing the gun barrel with one hand, Henry clamped his other over the top of Abbott’s fist. Jamming the pistol up, he twisted it out of the other man’s grip, making him shriek with a crunch of broken fingers. Muscles tight with the need to move, Cara held back, not wanting to jump in and make Henry lose his advantage. As she watched, in awe of his efficiently brutal movements, he tossed the gun to the side.
Distantly, Cara heard it clatter down the incline they’d just ascended, but she couldn’t look away from the fight happening in front of her. Pulling back his fist, Henry swung, but he staggered when Abbott dodged. As Cara sucked in a harsh breath, she felt her stomach seize with terror when Henry gave his head a shake, his eyes unfocused. He’d used up everything he had, the last tiny bit of focus and energy he’d held in reserve. Henry swayed, looking like an enormous tree about to crash to the ground.
A gleeful grin crossed Abbott’s face as he yanked a switchblade from his pocket with his unbroken hand. He crouched, ready to spring at a disoriented Henry. Cara felt her molars grind together. There was no way she was letting this mob-boss wannabe hurt her Henry.
Charging forward, she drew on every self-defense training session that Fifi had drilled into her brain. Her muscles remembered every endless repetition, falling into the correct form as she threw a straight punch right into his midsection. When he bent over, his arms clutching his middle, she snapped a front kick right at his face. Even as she moved instinctually, finding an opening and seizing it, she marveled that she was fighting—and winning. She heard cartilage crunch, and his eyes rolled back, right before he toppled over onto the ground, unconscious. For the hundredth time that day, she was grateful she was wearing boots.
When she looked away from the limp Abbott, she saw Henry blinking at her, a slow smile spreading over his face. “You’re nice and you’re amazing.”
“Thank you.” Warmth spread through her chest, erasing the chill of watching Henry almost get shot and then stabbed. “You’re pretty amazing yourself.”
They exchanged a smile before Cara turned back to Abbott’s unconscious form. “I don’t suppose you have any more zip ties on you?”
“No pockets.” He patted his legs as if in proof, and she noticed he swayed a little. He obviously couldn’t haul Abbott over his shoulder at the moment.
“Hmm… I don’t want to leave him here. After all that, what if he wakes up and gets away?” She eyed Henry, considering their options. “If we each grab an arm, think we can drag him to the police station?”
That earned her another smile. “I like how you think.”
“Ditto.”
* * *
“Where’s the hospital—if there is one. Do you know?” Cara asked a short time later as they emerged into a small gravel parking area marked with a trail map, a limp Abbott dragging behind them.
“No hospital,” Henry said, his voice slightly slurred. He was staying on his feet and hauling his share of Abbott’s weight, so Cara was hopeful he’d make it the rest of the way. “We’ll go to the station, dump this guy, and have the paramedics meet us there.”
“Good idea.” She just hoped that none of the Red Hawk officers knew what bail jumper Henry Kavenski looked like. They reached the road, and she looked in both directions. There were some cabin-type homes, but nothing that looked like a police station. “Which way?”
He waved to the left with his free hand, the gesture lacking his usual forcefulness, and she could hear that his steps were dragging again. Swallowing her worry, she trudged to the left, using both hands to hold on to Abbott’s arm. It had been tempting to drag him by the feet instead, letting his head bounce off the pavement, but she’d been merciful. She did hope he woke up with some aches and pains, though.
The houses were getting closer together, and a few shops came into view. All the buildings, even the businesses, seemed to be going with the mountain motif. Everything was logs and carved bears and chalet-style roofs. To her relief, the town was quiet, with no people in sight. It would’ve been hard to explain why they were dragging Abbott’s limp form across town.
Once she spotted the building, she knew that it had to be the police station, even before Henry waved her in that direction. Only the cops could build such a utilitarian structure in this cutesy little town. She sped up, dragging Abbott behind her, thoughts of concussion and nearly drowning and hypothermia and all sorts of other things that could be wrong with Henry spinning through her mind.
He kept up—barely. His boots shuffled against the pavement, the sound of his stumbling footsteps so painful to hear from a guy who usually moved so soundlessly. Even as bad off as he was, however, he still held up his half of Abbott’s weight, and he even opened the door for them as they entered. That reassured her he was alert and aware enough to be polite.
She dropped Abbott’s arm as they passed a short row of chairs, assuming Henry would leap at the chance to finally sit down after she’d forced him to march—and run—up the side of a mountain. Without slowing, she went straight for the desk sergeant’s window. The cop, a woman not much older than Cara, looked back and forth between her and Abbott’s sprawled form with startled eyes.
“Can you please arrest the unconscious guy and call for medical help?” Turning to look at Henry, she jumped when she found him standing right behind her. “What are you doing? Go sit before you fall over.” Turning back to the cop, she added, “He fell in the river and hit his head.”
The officer reached for a radio, but before she could call for either backup or medical assistance, Henry spoke.
“I’m Henry Kavenski. I skipped out on bail, and she”—he tipped his head toward Cara without meeting her eyes—“is with Pax Bail Recovery. She found me and is bringing me in.”
“Henry,” Cara protested, completely shocked by his unexpected—and unwelcome—confession. Before she could protest or deny or do whatever she needed in order to keep him from going back to jail, he gave her one of his tiny smiles…and then collapsed onto the tile floor.
Chapter 18
The next couple of hours were a chaotic blur.
After paramedics arrived and whisked Henry and Abbott away in a couple of ambulances—both with their own police escort—Cara was ushered to the tiniest interview room in the history of police stations. There, she told the entire story to two officers, answered their questions, retold the story, and then repeated the entire process wh
en the Colorado FBI agents arrived.
When she was finally alone in the tiny room, she rested her head on her folded arms, overwhelmed with exhaustion and worry for Henry. Although they’d assured her that both men were still alive, she wouldn’t—couldn’t—believe it until she saw and hugged him herself.
A tap at the door brought her head up with a swallowed groan. Although the cops had been fairly gentle with her once they realized she was mostly the victim—and the bounty hunter who’d brought in two wanted criminals—she didn’t think she had it in her to tell the story one more time. She needed food and sleep and a hug from Henry—not necessarily in that order.
The door swung open, and the first officer she’d met stuck her head in. “Your sisters and brother are here.” When the cop pushed the door open wider and stepped out of the way, Cara felt a surge of hope.
“I’m free to go?”
“With Abbott in custody, you should be safe at home. We’ve filled in the Langston police chief on the situation, so they’ll be keeping a close eye on you. If we or the FBI have more questions, we have your phone number.”
Cara stood, holding back another groan and forcing a polite smile. The Red Hawk cops didn’t know that siccing the Langston PD on her family wasn’t a good thing. She hurried out the door, deciding to file that in the deal-with-later pile. For now, she was happy to escape the miniscule interview room and see for herself that her sisters—and brother?—were unharmed.
As soon as she stepped into the waiting room, she was mobbed. Molly, Charlie, Norah, and Felicity all tried to hug her at the same time, squeezing the air out of her until she couldn’t even answer their barrage of questions.
“Are you okay?”
“What happened?”
“Are you hurt?”
“Who took you?”
“Was it that skip?”
Even Molly’s boyfriend, John Carmondy, was there, wrapping his arms around the entire group like a huge, muscled shield.
With a shaky laugh of sheer relief that all her sisters were unharmed, Cara gently extricated herself from their family huddle. “I promise to tell you everything, but can we go home first? And maybe hit up a drive-through for food?”
“Of course.” Molly swooped in and gave her one hard final hug. “Anything for you, Cara. It’s the rule—get kidnapped, and we’re nice to you for at least a day.”
“Well, a few hours, maybe.” Charlie’s teasing tone was belied by the tight grip she had on Cara’s hand. Her fearless sister was actually trembling. “Don’t get carried away here.”
Their laughter was mostly from relief, but it felt good. Cara had survived. Now she just had to make sure that Henry did, too.
* * *
“He did what?” Molly was the one who asked the question, but all of Cara’s sisters—along with her one honorary brother, John—were staring at her with wide eyes. She’d managed to put off the interrogation from the time they’d all descended on the Red Hawk police station until they got home, but now the entire family was gathered around their small kitchen table demanding answers.
“He just…blurted it out.” Cara’s hands flung from her mouth outward in a wide word-vomit gesture. She still couldn’t believe it. After all of his evasions and dodges, Henry had just turned himself in to a cop at a tiny police station who didn’t even know who he was. He could’ve gotten patched up at the hospital, given a fake name, and then disappeared again. Instead, he’d given up his freedom and any chance to exonerate himself, just so she could get the bond-recovery fee. It was…incomprehensible.
“What’d he say afterward?” Charlie asked. “Did he give any explanation?”
“He fell over and had to be taken to a Denver hospital in an ambulance. He’s under guard there, and I can’t get in to see him.” Cara felt a renewed surge of frustrated helplessness. She knew he was still alive, but she couldn’t get any more information about his condition. “I don’t get why he did it. How’re we supposed to track down the real killer now?”
“Um…you do realize that he is the real killer, right?” Felicity asked tentatively.
Cara was shaking her head even before her sister finished her question. “He’s not, though.” When her sisters exchanged concerned looks, she gave a huff and leaned forward, fighting through her exhaustion. She’d dozed the hour it took to drive back to Langston, but she felt like she could sleep for days, maybe weeks. First, though, she had to fix this. Then she could rest. “I know most skips say that, but I believe him when he told me he didn’t kill those people. Why would he have stuck around Langston if he’d done it? If he was guilty, he would’ve disappeared right after he skipped—kind of like Mom did.”
“Lots of skips stick around,” Molly countered. “They don’t have money to leave, and they have friends and family members who hide them.”
“Henry has money.” Cara remembered the large pile of bills he’d so casually dropped on the counter of the cabin. “He wasn’t staying with friends, either. He was in a ratty motel. Besides, would a killer have risked his own life to save a near-stranger from kidnappers? Would he have turned himself in because he knew I needed the money? You saw those crime-scene photos. A bad person slaughtered those people, and everything Henry’s done has convinced me that he’s a good guy. Also, Abbott said that Henry was taking the fall for someone. I just don’t know who.”
There was another exchange of looks, and Cara braced herself for the next round of her sisters trying to convince her that Henry was a killer. There was no changing her mind, though. Even though she and Henry had been running from Abbott’s people for less than thirty-six hours, she felt like she truly knew who Henry Kavenski was—and that he was a good, moral man.
“Okay.” Molly looked at Cara expectantly. “What’s the plan?”
Cara blinked, taken off guard by the simple question. “The plan?”
Before Molly could answer, John gave a wide grin. “Does this mean we get to be PIs? Because that was my next career choice if bounty hunting had been a bust.”
“Wait.” Cara was still trying to process that her sisters weren’t trying to convince her of Henry’s guilt anymore. “You’re going to help me solve this and clear Henry?”
Molly gave a clap and stood. “Okay, Norah and Cara, you’re on research. Fifi and Charlie, find out everything you can on this Abbott guy. Carmondy, you’re with me. We’ll track down Stuart and squeeze the little weasel until he pops.”
John gave a whoop. Pushing off the counter he’d been leaning against, he wrapped Molly in a backward hug. “This is why I love you, Pax. We have the same idea of what makes a date fun.”
Cara considered protesting her research role, but since her first and last attempt at a simple skip retrieval had morphed into life-threatening kidnapping and attempted murder, she decided that she should stick to what she was good at. It was hard to watch her sisters make plans to actively search for the person—or people—who could exonerate Henry, though. He was hers to save.
Felicity interrupted her somewhat greedy thoughts with a hug from behind. “I’m glad you’re okay,” she said. “Plus bringing in not one but two skips…impressive.”
Patting Felicity’s encircling arms, Cara leaned her head back against her sister. “I’m pretty impressed with myself too. Seriously though, thank you for pushing us so hard during our workouts. I channeled you when I had to force Henry to run up a mountain after he’d just drowned, and I got to kick a mob boss in the face.”
Fifi looked a little startled before a Cheshire cat grin spread over her face. “Did you hear that?” she asked, loudly enough to get all the sisters’ attention. “Cara wants me to push you even harder in the mornings.” The communal groan that this elicited just made Felicity’s smile wider. “Tomorrow we’re starting a half hour earlier. Prepare for pain.” With a final squeeze that contradicted her bloodthirsty words, Felicity released Cara and hea
ded for the door.
Charlie took her place, although she gave Cara a fist thump to the shoulder rather than a hug. Charlie wasn’t big on gestures of affection, which made her hug and hand-holding at the Red Hawk police station rare and precious. “Nice job, Twin. I think that’s the highest bounty any of us has ever brought in.”
“Thanks.” Cara tipped her head back to smile at Charlie. “Although it was kind of unintentional, so I don’t know if that counts.”
“If the money’s there, it counts.” With a final whack on Cara’s shoulder, Charlie followed Felicity out the door.
“Let’s go find us a weasel to pop, PI sidekick,” John said as he ushered Molly after them.
Although Molly allowed herself to be towed, her eyes narrowed. “Who’re you calling ‘sidekick,’ sidekick?”
John gave one of his deep bellowing laughs as they disappeared out the door, and Cara couldn’t help but smile at the sound. Even though she’d been gone for just a couple of days, it’d felt like an eternity, and she’d had moments when she hadn’t thought she’d see her family again. She’d missed them all, even John.
Once Molly had closed the door behind them, Cara looked at Norah as the house went quiet.
“Ready?” Norah asked.
“Let’s research.” They both stood at the same time, as if it’d been choreographed, which made Cara laugh. When Norah gave her an inquiring look, Cara just waved her sister toward the stairs. “Don’t mind me. I’m just happy to be home.”
Norah’s expression changed as she reached out to grab Cara’s hand. After giving it a tight squeeze, she let go and hurried out of the kitchen. When Norah said quietly, “I’m glad you are, too,” Cara grinned at the softly spoken words.
Norah glanced back, giving her a pained expression when she spotted Cara’s smile. Like Charlie, Norah wasn’t one for big displays of emotion.
“I’ve also missed being on the research team,” Cara said, taking pity on her sister and changing the subject to something less emotionally soppy. “Adrenaline rushes are exhausting and traumatizing. Give me a nice, safe computer screen and a snack any day.”
