Jules, the Bounty Hunter

by Katie Ashley

  “We got him, so I get my Mustang.”

  She grinned. “Come on, let’s get inside,” she ordered, ushering me through the door. Dad’s parents had kinda been living with us for the last six years. Originally, they’d moved in full time after my mom had blown town, but when Mom never came home and we got a little older, they started gradually going back to their house. It wasn’t a total hardship on them since their ranch was only a mile down the road. A lot of nights, they’d just go home at bedtime or dark, and Big Mama would be back by breakfast. I guess you could say we lived on this compound kinda thing. Between Dad, Granddaddy, and my two aunts, we owned almost five hundred acres.

  It was Granddaddy who started Lonestar Bail Bonds forty years ago, and like the boys and me, Dad started working with him when he was just a kid. Granddaddy came from a long line of lawmen—cops, detectives, FBI agents. Enforcing the law was in his blood. He had technically retired a couple of years ago, but he still helped Dad out with cases.

  “Hungry?” Big Mama asked, as our shoes clicked along the blue and white tiled floor of the foyer.

  “Starved,” I replied.

  She nodded. “I’ve kept some chili warm for you and the boys. If you’re starved, I’m sure they’re famished!”

  My stomach grumbled in appreciation at her words. Big Mama’s chili was legendary—she’d even won some local cooking contests with it.

  I eased myself into a chair at the massive mahogany table while Dad went to the sink to wash up. In his favorite striped pajamas and navy robe, Granddaddy padded into the kitchen with a file in his hand. He leaned over and kissed my cheek before turning his attention to Dad. “Tom Blalock called while you guys were out.”

  “Fabulous,” Dad grumbled, grinding the sleep out of his eyes with his fists.

  Granddaddy nodded. “Sounds like a doozy,” he replied, as he passed Dad the file.

  Dad flopped down at the head of the table and started thumbing the paperwork. Big Mama came to the table with bowls and silverware. “Nathaniel St. James, what have I said about doing business at the dinner table?”

  Like an obedient child, he closed the file. He tried to change the subject by sniffing appreciatively of the air. “You knew just what I wanted, didn’t you, Mom?”

  Colt and Remy ambled over to the table, still looking bleary eyed from their backseat snoozing. Although they had already eaten, Granddaddy and Big Mama sat down with us.

  We ate in silence for a few minutes, devouring the chili like it was our last meal on Death Row. As he munched on a corn muffin, Remy eyed the manila folder beside Dad. “What’s the file about?”

  Dad warily glanced at Big Mama who just harrumphed as she got up from the table. When she was elbow deep in soap suds at the sink, Dad thought it was safe to continue. “It’s from my buddy, Tom, in Florida. He’s had a case brewing for a couple of weeks and thought he might bring me in on it.” Dad sighed. “And tonight he officially asked me to take it.”

  Bondsmen often called on other people in the business for help, and since Dad was well known not just in Texas, but throughout the Southeast, he often got called on to pick up a case. Sometimes when we were out of school for the summer, it even involved us packing up for a month or two and renting a house. This summer Dad had been toying with the idea of going to Georgia to help out some of his relatives. I think he’d had a hard time saying yes since that’s where my mom now lived, and it would be too painful for him to be so close to her.

  With all that said, I knew Tom asking for help wasn’t too unusual, but the expression on Dad’s face was. He had to be holding something back.

  “Then what’s the problem?” I asked.

  Dad hesitated slightly before replying, “The bond is a million dollars.”

  My spoon clattered noisily into my bowl. “Are you serious? A million dollars?”

  Remy and Colt both stared at Dad in disbelief. The largest bounty Dad had ever worked on was in the hundred thousand’s but never more than half a million.

  “But what you have to remember is a guy with a million dollar bond did some pretty serious stuff. Therefore, it’s not like going out to the mall or hunting him through his cronies’ neighborhoods. He’s someone who will make sure he’s not going to be found. That means being heavily armed in a secure hideout.”

  “Wow,” I murmured.

  The table fell silent. We sat that way for an agonizing minute or two before Colt cleared his throat. “So does this mean you’ll be working the case with Tom?” He was asking the question that I knew was on both of the twins and my minds—he just wasn’t asking it directly. And that question was whether we would be working the case as well.

  Dad rubbed his chin with his napkin. “Since Tom brought the case to my attention, I’ve been mulling over the prospect of involving you boys. You’re eighteen now—a legal age to own a gun and fight for your country in war. So, you should be able to come along on the case.”

  Remy and Colt’s eyes widened. “Dude, are you serious? We’re working a million dollar bond case!” Colt exclaimed as Remy asked, “You’re really going to let us go to Florida with you?”

  Dad smiled and bobbed his head. Both boys shot out of their chairs, whooping it up and slapping each other on the back. I, on the other hand, sat in a stunned silence. “And what about me?” I practically shouted over the celebratory noise.

  Dad’s face fell. “Jules, I can’t let you go along on a case like this. You’re too young.”

  “But I’m a part of the Apprehension Team now,” I protested.

  “I’m sorry, but you can’t be a part of this one. It’s too dangerous.”

  Out of respect, the boys stopped celebrating and returned to their chairs. Chewing on my lip, I willed myself not to cry. “I can still come to Florida with you guys, right? Just because I’m not working the case doesn’t mean I have to stay here.”

  Dad and Granddaddy exchanged glances while Big Mama snorted exasperatedly. “You haven’t told her yet, have you?” she demanded.

  My eyebrows arched in surprise. “Told me what?”

  Big Mama wagged her finger at Dad. “I’ve told you for two weeks that you needed to tell Julianne the truth, but did you listen to me? No, of course not! Now you’re going to have to go and tell her tonight?” She shook her head as she untied her yellow gingham apron. “Well, I’m not going to have any part of it.”

  As she flounced out of the room, Granddaddy rose from his chair. He jerked his silver head at the boys, and they obediently followed him out.

  Once we were alone, I crossed my arms over my chest and shot Dad a murderous look. “Why do I get the sudden feeling I’m about to get some really crappy news?”

  He sighed. “Jules, I’ve been talking to your mother—”

  A small gasp escaped my lips before I could help myself. “You know how I feel about her!” It was a well-known fact in our family that I held a pretty strong grudge against my mom for leaving. Over the past few years, Colt and Remy had gone and visited her during the summers or some of the holidays. But me, I flat out refused to see or talk to her.

  “I know that, but we’ve been speaking pretty frequently the last few months about the boys and you. She sounds a lot better—almost like the old Annabel.” A far-away look entered Dad’s eyes like he was reliving a happy memory. Then he shook his head, pushing away the thoughts of better times. “Anyway, she’s been very concerned about you.”

  “Why me?”

  “Maybe it’s because she hasn’t seen you in two years, and she misses her daughter and her baby.”

  Gritting my teeth, I argued, “I’m not her baby anymore.”

  “Look Jules, I think you’ve avoided your mother long enough. It would be the best thing for the both of you if you spent some time with her in Savannah.”

  I rocketed out of my chair so quick it clattered noisily to the floor. “Are you insane? Spend the entire summer in a strange city with Mom, who might as well be a stranger to me?”

  “Savann
ah isn’t a strange city. You spent time there every summer when you were little,” Dad argued.

  Shaking my head, I countered, “That’s when we were all still a family and went to see Grandma and Grandpa. But they’re gone now, and there’s nothing left but that massive house that might as well be a tomb!”

  “Jules, please—” Dad reached out for me, but I slung his hand away.

  “I hate her and all those society snobs she worships!” I shook my head furiously. “I won’t go! Do you hear me? I WON’T!”

  Chapter Two

  I scurried away from the table and out the back door. It slammed so hard behind me I was surprised the glass panes didn’t shatter. I stalked across the yard toward the stables. Without hesitating, I kicked open the door, causing our four horses to rear back from their hay-munching to give me “WTF?” expressions.

  “Don’t ask!” I grumbled, making my way to the stereo system. A flick of my wrist sent Pink blaring through the stalls. The horses, somewhat acquainted with my angsty rage moments, shook their manes and went back to their hay. The stable housed our punching bag, so naturally it was where I did my emotional unloading.

  I snatched up the hand-wraps and started winding the tape around my hands. Blowing the stray strands of hair out of my eyes, I faced down the punching bag. In keeping with our line of work, it wasn’t your standard “bag”. Instead, ours had a head and arms and legs. Its frayed and worn appearance suggested it had seen better days.

  “Sending me to Savannah, huh?” I mumbled before launching a right hook at the faux head. “There’s no way in hell I’ll be Mommy’s pretty society princess!”

  The mere thought of being decked out in poofy dresses and designer labels sent me into a flurry of left and right hooks. Sweat dripped off my face in my frenzy. I threw an upper cut to the dummy’s chin. “Don’t get to go with them to Florida on the biggest case ever!” With a knee strike to the abdomen, I spat, “And Dad—he’s never sided with Mom before!” Then an epic round house kick sent the bag careening from its hook.

  Sensing someone behind me, I whirled around. Dad stood framed in the doorway. “Jules, I want to talk to you.”

  Using my t-shirt to wipe the stinging sweat from my eyes, I shrugged. “What’s there to say?”

  “A lot.” Dad reached over and turned off the music. We stared each other down in silence. He motioned for me to have a seat on one of the worn out couches. I grabbed a bottle of water from the mini fridge, and being my usual stubborn self, remained standing.

  “The way I see it I’m being shipped off to hell for the summer while you and the boys go on one of the biggest cases ever. Did I miss something?”

  “Jules, I’m not sending you to Savannah for charm school lessons.”

  “No, you’re just forcing me to spend time with Mom!”

  Dad sighed. “The boys and I won’t be in Naples for long. Once we finish up there, I had planned on going to Savannah to help out my cousin, Raye. You remember him, don’t you?”

  “Um, the one who did two tours in Afghanistan and looks like a professional wrestler?”

  Nodding, Dad said, “Raye owns a bonding company close to the Chatham County Jail in Savannah. He’s been asking me to come out for awhile, and since we have that big family reunion coming up, I finally said yes.” When I gave Dad an “I could care less” look, he said, “And there’s something else, too.”

  For the first time, I noticed a manila folder in Dad’s hand. “I know how you’re dead set on going to law school, and college doesn’t come cheap. While the boys and I are in Florida, I thought you could handle this.” He passed the folder over to me.

  Flipping it open, my eyes honed in on the mug-shot before me. A clean cut man with blond hair and green eyes scowled back at me. He didn’t look like the average bail jumper we went after. After I had stared at the picture, I began reading his stats. “Emmett Marshall….42…arrested for misappropriating funds with high end investors…” I glanced up at Dad. “What does that mean?”

  “He took some people’s money and didn’t give it back.”

  “Aha.” I continued reading the folder. “Marshall skipped out before the trial. Ex-wife and teenage son reside in Savannah, Georgia.” A grin spread across my face. “You want me to handle a case on my own?”

  “Not exactly.”

  Snapping the folder shut, I huffed, “Then what’s the point of showing me this?”

  “Jules, you’re only sixteen—”

  “But I can do this!”

  Dad held up a hand to silence me. “I realize your gifts and abilities, Julianne, but I also know that you’re not an adult. You can’t carry a firearm or make an arrest. But,” he paused, pushing the loose strands of hair out of my face, “You can help me to bring this guy in.”

  As much as I hated to admit it, I knew Dad was right. “So what did you have in mind?”

  “I want you to do all the legwork. Find out all you can about his connections, who could be hiding him.”

  “And you think his ex-wife will have the goods?”

  “Not likely. Lynette Marshall cut all ties with Emmett after the divorce three years ago. Association with him was bad for her image.”

  “Her image?” I questioned. Flipping open the file again, I grimaced as I realized what Dad meant. “She’s a socialite, just like Mom.”

  Dad nodded. “But it’s not Lynette I want you to focus on.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Dad rustled through a few of the papers in the file before stopping on the photograph of a dark haired boy about my age. Dark haired god would have been a more accurate way of describing him. In a military prep school uniform, he had the chiseled features of an Abercrombie and Fitch model. His green eyes had a mischievous glint. Pointing to the photo, Dad replied, “He is your focus.”

  My eyes scanned the boy’s attributes. “Jackson Emmett Marshall…17…Top 10 percent of his class at Benedictine Military Prep School….”

  “Quite an impressive young man, isn’t he?” Dad asked.

  Staring at Jackson’s photograph one last time, I nodded. He was impressive in more ways than one. “So you want me to get to know him. Follow him around, try to get a peek at his cell-phone records or instant messaging?”

  Dad grinned. “You are quite the Sherlock Holmes, aren’t you?”

  “I have my days,” I replied, returning Dad’s grin.

  “Well, you won’t be completely alone in Savannah. Raye’s promised to help you in any way he can.”

  “So, if he’s a bondsman, why isn’t he taking the case?”

  “Well, let’s just say with Raye’s military background, he’s much more focused on taking out the blue collar jumpers—especially the potentially armed and dangerous ones.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Oh yeah. Even though the bounty is high, Raye would consider it beneath him to hunt a guy like Emmett.”

  I shook my head. “That’s too funny.”

  “That’s just Raye for you. He said for you to come and see him as soon as you can. He’s working on digging up some leads.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  “Then once you gather the information about Marshall, pass it on to me or Raye. Wherever Emmett is in the world, I’ll apprehend him.”

  “Okay.”

  Dad’s fingers cupped my chin, forcing me to stare into his deep brown eyes. “Jules, I do the apprehending, got it?”

  I rolled my eyes towards the rafters. “Yeah, yeah, I got it.”

  “Good,” Dad replied, snapping the folder shut.

  “So does Mom know the real reason why I’m coming?”

  Dad shook his head. “The less she knows the better.” Raking his hand through his short dark hair, he sighed. “Besides, I wouldn’t want to hurt her like that.”

  The water bottle slipped from my hands and crashed to the floor as I hissed, “Excuse me? You wouldn’t want to hurt her? The very woman who walked out on you and left you with three kids to raise?”
<
br />   “I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

  “How could I?”

  Taking my hands in his, Dad looked at me with pleading eyes. “Jules, I want you to promise me that you’ll give Annabel a chance and try very hard to rebuild a relationship with her.”

  I snatched my hands away from his. “Stop pulling that Dr. Phil bullshit! And why does it have to be just me? Colt and Remy are her kids too!”

  Dad raised his eyebrows at me. “Judging by your language and attitude, I think a little culture and refinement would do wonders for you.”

  “You didn’t answer my question,” I growled.

  “Fine, I’ll make it as,” he made quotes with his fingers, “‘Dr. Phil’ as I can. A girl needs a mother in her life—especially a teenage girl.”

  “And I have Big Mama for that,” I countered.

  Closing his eyes, Dad appeared to be counting to ten. “That’s not the same thing. Part of your mother’s issues stemmed from the relationship she had with her mother.” His eyes softened a bit. “I don’t want that to happen to you.”

  I sighed and held up my hands in defeat. “Okay, okay, I’ll try. No matter how much it pains me.”

  Dad leaned over and hugged me. His comforting woody cologne invaded my nostrils, and I wrapped my arms around him tighter. “It isn’t going to be forever. You’ll be back here before you know it.”

  I snorted against him. “Easy for you to say. You and the boys will be off catching your million dollar jumper while I’m being stuffed into frilly dresses and sipping tea with Mom’s cronies.”

  Dad laughed. “Hmm, I’d kinda like to see that.”

  “Don’t count on it,” I grumbled.

  Chapter Three

  The beverage cart’s wheels squealed down the aisle like ragged acrylic nails scraping across a chalkboard. Jeez, as much as my plane ticket cost, you would’ve thought the airline could’ve afforded some freakin’ WD40. The sound grated on my nerves even worse when I discovered the cart was coming for me.