It's release week for my latest, a fast paced romantic suspense set in southwest Missouri and Oklahoma, within the boundaries of the Cherokee Nation. For those who aren't aware, I do have some Cherokee blood handed down through the generations from my Grandmammy, Sarah Mink although that has nothing to do with this story, just links my lifelong interest to the current release.
Let's start with the blurb:
Shane Raincrow is a U.S. Marshall. He's
also tall, dark, and Cherokee.
Kaitlin
Corbin is a bride who doesn't really want to get married to a man she suspects
is dealing drugs and double crossing a cartel.
When
gunfire interrupts her wedding, Shane takes her into custody as a material
witness.
Instead
of delivering her to a safe house, they hit the road but trouble follows so
they head for the only place Shane thinks is safe – the Cherokee Nation where
he was born.
By
the time they get hitched in a one-hour wedding chapel and reach his
grandfather's home deep in the Oklahoma hills, they're falling in love – for
real.
The survival stakes are high, especially when the drug
cartel comes after them and they make a stand, backed by Shane's family. If
they can survive, maybe the marriage will too.
Now let's take a look at the gorgeous cover by Jay Aheer.
Now let's just jump into a sample - how about the first three chapters? Read it and you'll want to know how the rest of the story goes!
Dedication:
Dedication:
For Thomas B. Llafet, Pop, my beloved grandfather. Without his example, I couldn't have
created Shane's grandfather in this story. He gave me his wisdom, his unconditional love, and
was always there for me. He set the benchmark for all other grandfathers, always.
Chapter One
A deep growl of thunder rattled the windows in the church
and did not bode well for a wedding. Kaitlin heard it and thought it sounded
like the advance cry of a great dragon, one who winged across the stormy May
sky to deliver ill luck and bring danger. She’d always heard that the sun
shines on happy brides so a thunderstorm must mean the opposite. That suited
her mood well—she wasn’t a happy bride or one who
wanted to be here.
The ivory ball gown style wedding dress fit as if made for
her. The long sheer sleeves were trimmed with the same floral appliques that
decorated the gown and veil. Kaitlin drew a breath, difficult since the
bead-encrusted bodice fit too tight, and let it out slowly. The veil, attached
to her head with a Juliet cap, extended down to her ankles. The skirt was
tulle, edged at the bottom with the same floral lace, and boasted a train that
belled out behind her several feet. She could walk in it unless she used
mincing steps but she couldn’t run, not in the white Manolo Blahnik kitten
heels with rhinestone toes.
Otherwise, she might have bolted from the church, leaving
behind her bouquet, a cascade of white roses and pale pink peonies. She still
almost ran but more thunder echoed and heavy rain battered against the windows,
which kept her in place. Kaitlin didn’t want to marry Dr. Chad Cox today or any
other time. The huge and gaudy-to-the-point-of-ugly engagement ring caught the
light and she wanted to remove it. Her soon-to-be sister-in-law, Chardonnay,
popped into the space where Kaitlin waited. Tiny tables and chairs along with
Jesus-themed posters on the walls indicated it was usually a Sunday school
classroom.
“You look absolutely gorgeous!” Chardonnay cried. “Oh my
God, you’re a vision, a dream. You’re more beautiful than a movie star. Are you
ready to make the walk down the aisle? Chad is there, waiting.”
Apparently, her lack of enthusiasm wasn’t obvious. As a
high school English teacher in everyday life, she felt like an imposter in the
fancy bridal ensemble. Although once Kaitlin had believed she could love the
tawny-blond doctor with his flourishing clinical practice, she now loathed
Chad. He had all the telltale habits of a drug user and she knew beyond doubt
that he wrote opioid prescriptions for anyone who requested one. In the past
few months, she’d suspected that the drugs he prescribed for his so-called
patients came from the Jalisco New Generation Cartel, one of the worst drug
cartels operating out of Mexico. Over the last few days, she’d become certain,
when she came to the clinic ready to plead to postpone the wedding and overhead
a heated discussion about payment. Her fiancé, Dr. Cox, hadn’t been sharing the
profits. Kaitlin slipped out before anyone saw her but she knew now.
Since then, Kaitlin had worried and stewed, debating
whether to go to the police, leave town, or go through with the ceremony. After
many sleepless nights, she was no closer to a decision than she had been at the
start so here she was, about to walk down the aisle.
In addition to the major misgivings, she also had a dark
intuition that something terrible was on the horizon. Kaitlin never claimed any
psychic gifts but she had a touch of what her granny had called the “fey,” and her
instincts were seldom wrong.
She moved like a woman caught in a dream, picked up her
bouquet, and nodded as she followed Chardonnay into the sanctuary. Her two
bridesmaids, Trina and Amber, were there, dressed in the champagne lace
confections they’d chosen. The music began and she followed them down the aisle
with measured tread, walking, pausing, and continuing. Kaitlin heard more
thunder roll as lightning illuminated the stained-glass windows. Midway down
she noticed a man seated on the bride’s side, one she didn’t recognize.
He wore a black Armani single-breasted suit with a crimson
shirt and tie. His black eyes burned with an inner fire as they met hers and
although his hair was short and well-trimmed, Kaitlin thought it should be
flowing about his shoulders like a warrior. That was probably because he was
Native American but she’d never seen him anywhere until now. There was a power
in their shared gaze, some strange recognition, something she couldn’t
understand.
Kaitlin squared her shoulders and advanced. At the end of
the long aisle, Chad waited on the right, his groomsmen flanking him. The
priest waited in white vestments trimmed in gold for the joyous occasion of
matrimony. If only he knew, she thought. Once there, she handed her
bouquet to Trina and stepped into place.
From rehearsal she knew they would light a family candle
each, then the unity candle while the cantor sang the song they’d chosen. Right
now, she didn’t even remember what it was. A sharp clap of thunder drowned out
the music for a moment and the lights dimmed. Just as they did, she heard a
shot. It whizzed past her by mere inches but missed. Instead, it struck the
stained-glass window at the left of the altar. The multicolored pane shattered
and bits of glass flew in all directions. Kaitlin gasped and glanced about.
Another shot followed the first and she tried to kick off
her shoes but failed. The lights went out and the crowd erupted with noise.
Kaitlin turned to seek shelter and considered diving under the closest pew when
strong arms grasped her.
“Come with me,” a low voice whispered in her ear. “Let’s
go.”
He smelled masculine and musky. Although Kaitlin couldn’t
see him, she let him propel her toward an exit in the dim light. They entered
an unfamiliar corridor and then out through a door she didn’t know existed,
emerging at the side of the church. He hurried her a few more steps to where a
late-model black Chevy Tahoe was parked. The man opened the door to the rear
passenger area and pushed her inside, then dashed to the driver’s seat. He
started the engine and they pulled away from the curb in one swift motion. The
broken window in the sanctuary was visible as he drove away.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked, panting for breath.
“And what happened?”
Kaitlin realized in addition to those major questions she
didn’t have her purse, tucked away hours earlier, and she had no idea what this
man’s name might be. Was he a hero or a villain? She had no clue.
“Protective custody,” he said. She could drown in his voice—rich, smoky, and low-pitched, bass not tenor. “That was
an attempt on your life, as a warning for your fiancé, Dr. Cox, from CJNG.”
“The Jalisco New Generation Cartel?” Kaitlin said. “Why
would they come after me?”
Now that he drove, he’d donned a pair of Ray Ban sunglasses
despite the stormy weather. “To teach him a lesson.”
Her brain seemed stuck. “With me?”
“Yes. Apparently, the good doctor has been failing to
return the profits, stupid move on his part. If they kill you, it’s a warning
that he’s next on the list unless he pays what he owes them.”
It matched what she’d overheard earlier. She still didn’t
recognize him, though.
“Who are you? Why were you at my wedding? And how do you
know?”
He laughed and her anger rose, combining with fear for a
volatile emotional stew.
“Shane Raincrow, United States Marshal,” he said. With one
hand he flipped open his ID and badge. “I was at your wedding because there
were indications that a hit might take place, information provided courtesy of
a little piggy who squealed to save his skin.”
“An informant?”
“A snitch, yes.”
Her heart was still racing and Kaitlin thought she might
puke. Good thing she hadn’t eaten today, due to butterflies in her tummy. “Why
didn’t you just come and tell me before the wedding?”
He switched lanes and continued to drive at breakneck speed
as they headed west out of Springfield. “Would you have listened or believed
me?”
She started to say that she would have but the truth was,
she probably wouldn’t have paid any attention.
“Besides, you weren’t alone for more than a few minutes.
The groom’s sister, what’s her name, Chablis…”
“Chardonnay.”
“Okay, Chardonnay was with you. There wasn’t an optimum
moment.”
Kaitlin digested this and shook her head. “Are we being
followed?”
There was no humor in his voice this time. “I hope not.”
“Are you taking me to jail?”
Raincrow glanced into the rearview mirror at her. “Why
would you think that? Are you guilty of something?”
“I’m not.”
“So, no jail. You won’t have to wear an orange jumpsuit.”
His quip reminded her that she still wore her wedding gown,
veil, and shoes. Kaitlin plucked the veil off and tossed it beside her on the
seat.
“I don’t have anything else to wear.”
“It’ll be provided.”
He still hadn’t told her where they were headed.
“Where?”
Raincrow sighed. “At the safe house.”
“What safe house?”
“The one where I’m taking you,” he said. “That’s all I can
tell you right now. It’s confidential information.”
Kaitlin wanted to stamp her feet against the floor, kick,
and scream. He might smell wonderful and have a voice that resonated but this
man was annoying. He frustrated her with his reluctance to tell her the tiniest
fact.
“Well, was anyone hurt or killed at the wedding?”
“I don’t know … I pulled you out,” he said.
“Well, I imagine Chad is wondering where I went.”
She said it but wondered if he even cared. He hadn’t been
very attentive lately, focused on his work at the clinic and his drug dealing.
Maybe he never had been and she hadn’t noticed. For the last year, her focus
had been her job—teaching literature at a local
high school—and the wedding. Growing up in a
household where if they weren’t destitute, they were poor, they always saved
the margarine tubs to use in place of name-brand storage containers and wore
hand-me-downs or thrift shop bargains. For Kaitlin, dating then being engaged
to a medical doctor, had been a dream come true. Now, it had become a
nightmare.
“I wouldn’t know,” Shane Raincrow said. Something in his
voice warned that he did and that Chad didn’t miss her at all. “What about your
family? Aren’t you concerned about what they think?”
If he had a file on her, he already knew she had none.
“I don’t have any family,” she told him. She was an only
child and she’d lost her parents years ago in a car-versus-train accident, long
before she began dating Chad. She had been fourteen and after, she lived with
her granny until she died during her first year of college.
His voice softened as he said, “I know you lost your
parents and I’m sorry. I can relate. I thought there might be someone else,
aunts or uncles or grandparents.”
Kaitlin sat back and crossed her arms. She did have an
aunt, a couple of uncles, and some scattered cousins. For now, she wouldn’t ask
any more questions that he wouldn’t answer. She'd bide her time and see where
they ended up. Her guess that they were headed for Joplin, Missouri, on the
Oklahoma line proved to be wrong. For one, Highway 60 didn't go to Joplin and
he never changed the route. The only time he slowed was when they came to one
of several small towns along the way. He drove like the proverbial bat out of
hell and they reached Neosho in thirty-four minutes, less than half the time it
should take if he obeyed the speed limit.
He slowed down as they entered the city on the two-lane
highway, through an older section of town. Kaitlin gazed at the homes they
passed, many wedged beside businesses, and cringed. “Is this safe house
nearby?” she asked. “This looks like anything but a safe neighborhood.”
“No, it’s not.” Raincrow hadn’t become any more
communicative.
“What time is it?” She had removed her watch for the
ceremony.
“Quarter till four.”
That had to be wrong. Her wedding began at 3:00 so more
than forty-five minutes had surely passed. “It must be later than that.”
“It’s not.”
“How much farther until we get where we’re going?” she
asked. “When do I get some clothes to change into?”
“The suitcase you had packed for your honeymoon is in the
back,” the Marshal said. “Hopefully you packed some basic stuff. The rest will
be waiting for you.”
They’d planned a vacation in Cancun so she had swimsuits,
shorts, tank tops, and sundresses. There were a few pairs of jeans and two
t-shirts which would have to do until she got something else. Kaitlin didn’t
think she’d even packed a jacket, which now she would like to have. Her bag
contained just a few of her things. Chad had insisted that the rest go in his
much larger bag. The sheer sleeves on the tulle gown weren’t made for warmth
and although it was May, it seemed cool.
“All right,” she replied. “How long till we get there? I
don’t suppose you’ll tell me where.”
“Classified information, but we’re going to get a motel
here tonight.”
Kaitlin started to ask why, then didn’t. He wasn’t going to
tell her. At least in a motel room she could change, take a long, hot shower,
and make some calls. She hoped for a comfortable room but he pulled into an
old, one-story motel that dated from the 1950s with exterior corridors. She
groaned. “We’re staying here? I saw signs for several chain hotels. Why
can’t we go to one of them?”
“It’s just for one night,” Raincrow said. “I need a place
to stay, one where I can watch to see if anyone trailed us. It’s cheap but
clean. I’ve stayed here before.”
He pulled in near the office and turned back to Kaitlin.
“Stay here. Don’t make me handcuff you.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
Shane Raincrow grinned and she saw how handsome he was. “I
would, Kaitlin.”
“You know my name!” As soon as she spoke, she realized how
dumb that sounded. Her name must be the bare minimum of what he knew.
“Of course—why wouldn’t I?
Don’t go anywhere.”
She adjusted her attitude. If the man attended her wedding
just to see if any snipers or hit men showed up, he’d have to know her name. He
probably had a file on her. Kaitlin steamed as she waited for him to return. He
was obnoxious. He was insufferable. He was a real pain even if he was
good-looking, especially when he smiled.
He returned with one key. “We’re going to be roommates.”
“I won’t share a bed with you!”
“Then it’s lucky we got the last double room,” he told her.
“Let’s get inside.”
The room, though small, was neat and there were two beds. A
desk with three levels held a 20-inch television, a rotary dial phone, a
microwave oven, a small coffee maker and a mini-fridge. Two beat-up chairs
flanked a small table near the window. The sink was located outside of the
small bathroom that had a commode and a basic tub/shower combination. A wobbly
nightstand between the beds held a single lamp. The bedspreads smelled like
laundry soap so Kaitlin figured they were clean. Raincrow rolled her suitcase
inside and carried his sole bag.
“It’s after 4:30 and I’m hungry,” he said. “Another storm
looks to be moving in so let’s get something delivered. Any preference?”
Right now, she could eat oatmeal and she wouldn’t care. If
she didn’t eat, it wouldn’t be a problem. Food wasn’t a big priority.
“I don’t care.”
“Not on the menu. Pizza? Fast food? Burgers? Fried chicken?
Deli sandwiches? Asian or Mexican? What sounds good?”
She shrugged. “I just want out of this dress.”
Surprise flitted across his face, as if he’d forgotten what
she wore. “Tell you what—I’ll go take a shower.
You can shuck it while I’m in the bathroom.”
He sounded almost kind so she nodded. “Okay. Thanks.”
Kaitlin waited until she heard the shower running, then she
removed the gown which was difficult. The delicate fabric slipped beneath her
fingers and she could have used a second pair of hands to work the tiny
buttons. Asking Shane Raincrow to assist wasn’t an option, however. She managed
to get out of the dress without tearing it or resorting to scissors. She did
her best to hang it on the one rack in the room, then changed into a pair of
denim capri pants and a hot-pink sleeveless blouse. She kicked off the Manolo
Blahnicks and slid her feet into canvas shoes. He emerged, damp and dressed in
a faded pair of gray sweatpants and a black t-shirt featuring the seal of the
Cherokee Nation. As attractive as he’d been in the suit, Raincrow was hotter in
casual clothes.
“You’re Cherokee,” she said.
“Totally,” he replied with a grin. “And starving now. Did
you decide what you’d like to eat?”
“I’m not picky, whatever you’d like.”
Using his phone to access one of the delivery services, he
said, “All right but no bitching if you don’t like what I order.”
Kaitlin figured he’d go for he-man food, rare steak or huge
burritos or a giant burger, but when the food arrived, he’d ordered lemon
chicken, Yushang beef, Kung Pau Chicken and Peking Shrimp with rice, egg rolls,
and crab rangoons. The aromas rising from the cartons aroused her missing
appetite and she decided she could eat a little. She ate a few bites because
the food was delicious until she realized that by now her guests would have
been sitting down for dinner.
“What’s wrong?” Raincrow asked. “You quit eating.”
She sighed. “It would have been dinner by now, Tuscan
chicken or sirloin steak, then the cake.”
The confection had been four tiers, trimmed with real
flowers and no cheesy topper with a bride and groom. She’d chosen a light and
luscious lemon cake with vanilla buttercream frosting. It had been a beautiful
cake and it would have tasted so good. And, it would have been the best part of
the wedding.
“Missing Dr. Golden Boy?” he asked, raising one eyebrow as
he reverted to rude.
Hot words bubbled into her mouth but she didn’t say them.
She didn’t miss Chad, not at all, but the wedding she’d spent more than a year
planning had fallen apart and she’d almost died. Until she’d overheard the
argument at his clinic, Kaitlin had believed her future was secure. She had
known the life she’d live, one with the security of a doctor as the main
breadwinner, in a lovely Mission-style house. Now her future was as uncertain
as the weather, uncharted and more than a little scary.
“No,” she managed to say. “No.”
Then she pushed away her paper plate and began to cry, the
tears she’d held all day erupting into reality. Kaitlin put down her head and
sobbed.
Chapter Two
Tired to the bone, Shane Raincrow
had been enjoying the Chinese takeout until Kaitlin began to cry. He’d expected
tears much earlier and her stoic reaction to the terrible day had impressed
him. Few women could come within inches of being shot to death at their
storybook wedding, be snatched away by a stranger, and driven miles away to an
unfamiliar place without breaking down. Kaitlin hadn’t.
Although he’d had her file in hand
for more than a week, her beauty at the wedding had stunned him. Few things
made him speechless but Kaitlin with her hair swept into a messy bun, makeup
done to perfection, and wearing the gorgeous gown robbed him of coherent
thought. He’d known she was pretty but he’d expected a run-of-the-mill high
school teacher, not a beautiful woman. There were photos within the file but in
her full bridal glory, she didn’t seem real. To him, she had resembled a fairy
princess or a goddess come down from the clouds.
He’d worn his best Armani suit, that
had cost him a small fortune, to impress and blend but when he caught sight of
her, Shane had stared. He hadn’t expected her to return the look he gave her as
she passed down the aisle. If he wasn’t mistaken, she’d looked straight back at
him, odd for a bride on her way to the altar. That had been his first inkling
she wasn’t as invested in the marriage as he’d believed.
If he hadn’t been gazing at her with
calf eyes, Shane would have made the shooter sooner but he never saw the hit
man until after the shot almost killed Kaitlin. He’d moved before the window
shattered into a thousand multicolored pieces and had grasped her before the
second shot echoed.
Tasked to protect a possible
witness, Shane did his duty and got her out of danger. He hadn’t expected the
shooter to fire before the ceremony—the snitch had been wrong about that but
he’d missed. He figured he might have to carry her out but she’d hustled when
he snatched her. Although he’d threatened to use the handcuffs if she tried to
run when he checked into the motel, he had them ready from the first if needed.
As lovely as she was in her finery,
when he came out of the shower to find her in casual clothing, his heart
skipped a few beats. She’d washed away the cosmetics and let her hair down. It
cascaded past her shoulders, a blend of light brown and dark blonde. Get a
grip, Raincrow, or you’ll cross an invisible line here.
He’d tossed out the sarcastic crack
about Dr. Golden Boy from pure snark, more than a little jealous to think this
exquisite woman had been about to tie the knot with him, despite knowing he
played a major role in the opioid epidemic. If she missed that bastard, he’d
lose some of the respect he had for her. Maybe she’d longed for the
sophisticated dinner at a country club, preferring it to eating Chinese food
out of paper cartons with a Cherokee.
Or maybe it had just been a hell of
a long day and it all caught up with her.
When Kaitlin began to cry, he
couldn’t swallow another bite. The food he’d found so tasty moments before
stuck in his throat and he wished he could take back the caustic question.
Instead, Shane rose and came around behind her. He placed one hand on her back
as she sobbed.
“Kaitlin,” he said. “Kaitlin.”
He said her name because he didn’t know
what else to say, awkward around emotional women. She sobbed harder, then shot
up out of the chair and turned to him. He caught her and she put her head down
on his chest, still crying. Shane held her, inhaling the scent of her hair and
perfume. He stroked her hair, which seemed to calm her and said meaningless
things like, “Hush,” and “It’s okay.” Her proximity lit his passion and he
wanted to kiss her. It took all his restraint not to plant his mouth on her
lips and take what he craved. He might have done it anyway if he hadn’t
realized that the curtains were not completely closed.
Because the lights were on in the
motel room, they were spotlighted in the window. As he reached around Kaitlin
to pull the drape, he caught sight of a red laser dot dancing on her back.
Somewhere, out in the dark, a sniper had his sights aimed on her through the
window. Shane reacted and threw her to the floor, covering her body with his.
She made a muffled protest but went silent when the window imploded, showering
both with glass fragments. Kaitlin started to try to rise and he shoved her
flat.
“Fuck! Stay down,” he told her.
“Don’t move.”
He’d removed his weapon when he
showered. Shane crawled across the floor to retrieve it, made sure the magazine
was in place, and slid it off safety. He returned to her as a barrage of
gunfire blasted the room. The curtains danced as they tattered with the
onslaught and bullets pinged off every surface. Shane managed to pull the lamp
over, thrusting the room into darkness.
“We’ve got to get out of here,” he
said. “Are you hurt?”
She groped to find him and then
grasped his hand. “No, just scared.”
If he could get to the desk phone,
he’d dial 911 but he figured someone in the office surely had. A faint wail of
sirens in the distance grew louder and he could breathe.
“Hear that?” he whispered to
Kaitlin. “It’s the cavalry.”
Problem was, they needed to be gone
before the law enforcement arrived or there would be too many questions. He had
repacked his stuff into his duffle, an old habit. He groped for her suitcase
and working blind put her things back into it. There was no room for the
wedding gown and he decided it would have to stay. If it had suffered half the
damage the curtains had, it would be ruined anyway.
“Let’s roll,” he told her. Still
holding her hand, he managed to toss his duffle over one arm and roll her
suitcase with the other. “The vehicle is right outside the door. I’ll put you
in the front passenger seat and we’ll get the hell out of here.”
“Shane…”
It was the first time she’d called
him by name and he marked it.
“Ask me questions later.”
He counted the seconds as they made
a wild run for the Tahoe. Shane boosted her into the seat and threw their bags
into the back. Then he ran for his life around the front of the vehicle, weapon
ready, and climbed in. The moment he shut the door, the firing began again and
Kaitlin screamed.
“Hush,” he told her. “This buggy’s
bulletproof, including the window glass. Fasten your seat belt because we’re
gonna rock and roll.”
Shane didn’t bother with his but
fired the engine and backed out without using the headlights. He propelled the
Tahoe to the highway and darted across it to a roadside park, the kind with a
history marker and a few tables. He pulled into the very back of it and waited.
Three cruisers, red lights blazing,
blasted past and turned into the motel. The moment they rolled to a halt, Shane
hit the highway and headed toward the Interstate. He blew through several red
lights before hitting the entrance ramp at better than eighty-five miles an
hour, then slowed so they wouldn’t crash.
The storm he’d anticipated hit with
heavy rain, frequent lightning, and thunder. A few pellets of hail struck the
windshield. Despite the weather he rocketed down the Interstate as fast as he
dared and was almost to Arkansas when he realized Kaitlin hadn’t said a word
since they left. In full Federal Marshal mode, Shane glanced over and noticed
she was shaking. Her arms were wrapped tight around her torso and tears slid
down her cheeks. She stared straight ahead at the road but she appeared
withdrawn.
“Hey,” he said. “Kaitlin?”
When she failed to respond, he
became anxious. Had she been hit by a stray bullet or cut by glass fragments?
“Kaitlin, talk to me. What’s the matter?”
He slowed as much as he dared. She lifted
her head and turned toward him.
“I’m cold,” she said in a whisper.
“I hurt all over and I don’t feel well.”
Her shivering increased and he
recognized traumatic shock. The professional law enforcement officer faded as
Shane acted on his own instincts. He took the next exit into Bentonville. The
first stop he made was at a discount store where he dashed inside through the
downpour long enough to buy a soft blanket and a sports drink. He wrapped the
blanket around her shoulders and suggested she drink what she could. He could
eat again although it’d been a short time since they had and she had eaten very
little. Shane pulled into the first drive-in he saw, then ordered burgers,
onion rings, and sodas.
Kaitlin had stopped shivering but
she clutched the blanket around her. Once she’d sipped some of the sports
drink, she roused a little more.
“It’s raining,” she said. “You’re
soaked.”
He was but it didn’t matter. “I’ll
dry.”
“You’ll catch cold.”
Shane laughed. His mother would have
echoed the same sentiment and often had during his childhood.
“Doesn’t work that way. I won’t but
we both need some hot food. I didn’t get a chance to eat much so I’m still
hungry.”
He also needed time to think. The
orders had been to remove Kaitlin from the wedding, if possible, and bring her
to a safe house located in the suburbs of Kansas City. A gut feeling had
prompted him to drive west instead. Neosho had been his choice, not an official
one. It had also been a test to determine if they’d been followed. Until he saw
the laser point on her body, Shane had been almost certain they hadn’t. Now he
had to determine how they’d been located. He’d swear on his badge that no one
tailed them out of Springfield so he wondered how CJNG, the Jalisco Cartel, had
found them.
Shane divided the food and handed
her a burger. He put her onion rings on the dash where she could reach them and
the shakes in the beverage holder between the seats.
“You need to eat while we have a
chance,” he told her, noting her skin remained colorless, her lips white. What
he didn’t say was, Eat before they catch up to us again.
Kaitlin unwrapped her burger and
nibbled at it. “Thank you,” she said after she’d swallowed several bites. “It’s
actually pretty tasty.”
By then, he’d wolfed down half of
his. His body needed the fuel. Fatigue hung over him like smoke from a campfire
built with green wood, and a headache hammered his skull. Shane needed food and
sleep, but most of all, he required answers and those he lacked. After he
finished his first burger, he paused to rub his forehead and she noticed, which
surprised him.
“If I had my purse, I’d offer you
something for your head,” she said.
Shane reached beneath the driver’s
seat and pulled out the small dark-green Michael Kors bag and handed it to her.
Her eyes widened with surprise.
“You have it!”
He nodded. He’d surveyed the church
before he took his seat. He’d found her purse tucked away on a table in the
vestibule, apparently positioned so she could grab it on the way out of the
church after the ceremony.
“Thank you,” she said as she opened
it. She pawed through the contents, pulled out a small bottle of naproxen
sodium and handed it to him. “Take two for your headache.”
His head ached too much to debate so
he did, washing the tablets down with soda. Then he finished his food, waiting
for the medication to tone down the pain.
“My phone’s not in here,” Kaitlin
said, her voice a little shrill. “Where’s my phone?”
“I have it,” he said. “But you can’t
call anyone and I took the battery out so no one could ping it.”
Shane had done the same with his
work-issued cell. His personal phone was in his pocket but just his closest
family members had the number. As his weary brain sought a connection to the
shooter locating them at the motel, he realized they’d been tracked. If not by
cell phone, then it probably was a tracking device on the Tahoe. They needed to
ditch it and soon but they would need transportation.
As if she divined his thoughts,
Kaitlin asked, “How did they find us at that motel? And won’t the police be
after us for it?”
“I’m still figuring that out,” he
said. “I suspect there’s a tracking device on the vehicle and no, they won’t be
looking for us by name anyway—I used an alias when I checked in and paid cash.”
“An alias?”
He nodded. “I’ve been undercover a few
times and still had the name and ID from one of those times. I’m not concerned
about law enforcement anyway—it’s the cartel that worries me. If they trailed
us to Neosho, they’re not giving up easily.”
“Then I’m still in danger?”
“Very much, yes.”
“How far to the safe house? And will
I be safe there?”
Shane hesitated, then told her the
truth. “The safe house is near Kansas City and we’re not going there because
I’m not confident it’s secure. I headed in a different direction on purpose and
you know what happened.”
Kaitlin put down the onion ring
she’d been about to eat. “We were found but what does that have to do with the
safe house?”
He sighed and wished he’d shake the
headache. Nothing but sleep would probably cure it, though. “A snitch informed
us that there was a hit out on you from the Jalisco New Generation Cartel to
get Dr. Feel Good’s attention so he’d quit skimming the profits. It was taken
as valid information but I have this gut feeling there’s more to it than that.”
“I don’t understand.”
“There are several possibilities.
One, the doc is in deeper than anyone, you or the feds have any idea. The other
is that CJNG thinks you know more than I think you do and they want to
eliminate you. Or there’s an insider, FBI or DEA, working with the cartel. It’s
been known to happen. It’s a theory at this point but if any of this might be
true, there’s a serious threat to you.”
“To both of us.”
Shane nodded. “Yeah.”
“Then what happens? What do we do?”
“I’m working on that,” he said. “We
need to get rid of this vehicle and get somewhere safe, without leaving any
trail.”
“Will we get another hotel room?”
He shook his head. “Not yet, not
until I can be reasonably sure we won’t be followed there. I don’t want another
shoot-out or anything else to happen. Are you finished eating? We need to go.”
She wrapped up her trash and put it
in the paper bag. “Yes.”
The rain continued as he pulled out
onto the highway loop that wound through Bentonville. Shane didn’t return to
the Interstate but meandered through the city, then along the business route
that led to first Rogers, then Springdale. Near Springdale, he left the highway
and parked near a restaurant. Then he took out his phone and made a call to one
of the few people he trusted—his cousin, Wesley Raincrow.
“It’s Shane,” he said when his
cousin answered. “I need your help.”
“You got it, man, you know that.
What do you need?”
“Meet me at the Northwest Arkansas
Airport in a couple hours,” he said. “I’ve got someone with me and we’ll be in
one of the sitting areas before Security.”
“I’ll be there.”
He had a plan. It might be imperfect
but it was all he had for now. Shane drove around northwest Arkansas, down to
Fayetteville, back through Springdale, out to Beaver Lake and back before he
headed for XNA, the airport at Bentonville. Large for a small city like
Bentonville, it offered connecting flights to destinations all over the country
but he didn’t plan to fly. The rain slacked not long before he drove into the
airport and headed for the long-term parking area. Kaitlin, who had dozed as
they drove, sat up.
“Where are we?”
Shane explained and she asked, “Are
we getting a flight somewhere?”
“No, just ditching the Tahoe,” he
said. “Gather up what you need and we’ll leave the rest.”
They combined the few practical
items from her suitcase into his duffle and once parked, he led her over to the
terminal. Wesley waited there, unremarkable in faded jeans, a ball cap, and a
long-sleeved chambray shirt.
“I’m here, what do you need to do?”
“We need to get out of here as fast
as we can,” Shane said. He worried that their enemies might track the SUV while
they were still close. “Then we’ll talk. This is Kaitlin. Kaitlin, this is my
cousin, Wes.”
“Then let’s go,” Wesley Raincrow
said.
They followed him to a well-worn
vintage Ford F-150 pickup truck. Shane tossed his bag into the back and
motioned for Kaitlin to sit in the middle. He took the passenger seat by the
window, sandwiching her between the two men for safety. He didn’t expect anyone
to detect their presence yet, especially not in Wes’s truck but being cautious
came as second nature.
No one spoke until they left the
lights of Bentonville behind.
“I’m heading for home unless you
tell me different,” Wes said. “It’s late and whatever you need to tell me can
be done there.”
Shane nodded. “That’ll work but
we’ll have to be gone early in the morning.”
They passed through Decatur, a small
town dominated by a large poultry processing plant, then left the highway for a
narrow road. After a mile, they came to a crossroads, turned west, and ended up
at an older mobile home sitting beneath tall trees.
Once inside, Kaitlin sat down on the
vinyl-covered love seat with a sigh. Shane carried in their sole bag and sat
down at the tiny kitchen table with his cousin. Wes opened the aged avocado-green
fridge and handed him a beer. “Now, tell me.”
Shane sketched out the basics of
their situation, including both shooting attempts.
“The first time she was the target,”
he told him. “But at the motel, they were after both of us.”
Wes gave a low whistle. “That’s why
you ditched the government ride.”
“That’s why. I think it had a
tracking device but it could just as easily have been a bomb. Getting off the
grid will slow them down, at least. I need something to drive so if you have a
spare, I could use it.”
His cousin grinned. “I own an auto
shop, dude. So, yeah, I can give you something but it won’t be pretty.”
“As long as it’s dependable, that’s
fine,” Shane said. “Thanks.”
Wes waved one hand. “It’s family,
it’s cool. If you’re staying, there’s the couches or you can take my bed.”
Kaitlin was already asleep, curled
into a corner of the love seat. “Couch is fine, if you can spare a couple of
blankets, maybe a pillow.”
He spread one of the blankets over
Kaitlin, pausing to touch her beautiful hair. He kissed her fingers, then
touched her lips. Although he knew better, he’d let his emotions be engaged. He
liked her and he wanted her. Hell, in another time and place, if conditions
were better, he thought he could have fallen in love with her.
Fifteen minutes later, after
covering Kaitlin, Shane sprawled on the couch, a pillow under his head and
tried to sleep. He didn’t until almost morning but a little rest was better
than none and he could sleep when they got where he planned to go.
Until then, he needed his wits and
to be vigilant.
Their lives depended on it.
Chapter Three
Kaitlin woke, stiff and more than a
little cold. When she opened her eyes, the unfamiliar place confused her and
when she saw the mounted stag head on one wall, she stifled a scream. Shane,
rumpled and hair sticking in every direction, bolted up from the couch nearby
with his weapon in hand.
“What’s wrong?”
She felt like the worst flavor of a
fool. “That deer startled me.”
He lowered the weapon. “Damn. You
scared the bejesus out of me, woman.”
His cousin burst into the room from
the bedroom toting a .410 shotgun. “Everything okay?”
“Kaitlin doesn’t care for the deer.”
“He was tasty, though,” Wesley said
with a faint grin. “So, there’s no emergency? I figured we were under attack.”
“Not just yet. Can I make coffee?”
“Be my guest.”
Kaitlin spoke up. “I’ll make the
coffee and cook some breakfast. I’m sorry I woke both of you.”
Shane offered her a wide smile, the
first real one she’d seen since meeting him. She already found him incredibly
attractive with his dark eyes, black hair, high cheekbones, and face chiseled
as if from granite, but the smile sent a warm rush through her. His lips were
generous and his mouth wide. For a split second, she imagined kissing those
lips, then pushed the image away. She thrust off the blanket and groped her
feet into shoes.
“We needed to be up anyway,” he
said. “We have to leave soon but we can eat first.”
Kaitlin found a package of bacon in
the fridge, enough eggs to scramble, and bread for toast. As soon as the coffee
began to drip in the pot, she cooked the food. Chad had never appreciated her
domestic skills but she’d grown up in her grandmother’s home. Granny taught her
to cook at an early age, talking her through meal preparation step by step. Now
the simple task offered comfort.
“Thank you,” Shane said after he’d
cleaned his plate. “I didn’t figure you for a cook, though.”
“I’m full of surprises,” she replied
and he laughed. Whether it was because he’d had some sleep or that he was in a familiar
place, Kaitlin had never seen him as relaxed.
“That’s no lie,” he said. If only he
had the leisure to explore the depths of this woman.
After she poured him a second cup of
coffee, which he drank black, she broached the question she’d wanted to ask.
“What happens now?”
“I’ll take you someplace safe.”
“And where is that?”
Shane shook his head. “I’m not
saying.”
“I need to stop somewhere and buy
some things,” she said. “A jacket, for one, some more appropriate clothes, some
socks and underwear…”
She didn’t finish when he shook his
head again.
“No. For one thing, it could be
risky if anyone is looking for you. And for another, unless you have cash, you
can’t go shopping. A credit or debit card is easy to track. If they don’t know
your location, they can pick it up from that.”
“I’m cold,” she said. “I need a
sweater or something.”
“If you need a jacket, I’ll get you
one,” Shane said. “Unless Wes has something that will work. I thought I’d
borrow a flannel shirt to wear myself.”
Kaitlin turned her attention to the
other Raincrow.
“She can pick out a flannel shirt
too,” he said. “I do have a few ladies’ things, though. Last summer, I wanted
some stuff from a yard sale and the lady wanted to be done so I bought it all.”
“You bought out a yard sale?” Shane
asked.
“Yeah, I did. I think some of the
stuff might fit her.”
By the time she’d washed the skillet
and dishes, he’d brought a box of clothing for her to consider. Most were what
she’d call “ragbag rejects” but there was one light-green sweatshirt with both zipper
and hood. It fit when Kaitlin tried it on. She also picked out three t-shirts
in her size, one bright-red Arkansas Razorbacks shirt, a Beatles tee, and one
that read “Witchy Woman” in glitter. There was one pair of jeans too. Since
that tripled her current wardrobe, she thanked Wes and didn’t complain.
Since Shane’s duffle was at
capacity, she wore the jacket and put the rest in an Aldi’s bag Wesley
provided. When Shane pulled up outside the front door driving a road-scarred
late 1990s Ford Escort, she almost cringed. One fender was crushed and the hood
was a darker shade than the body. Still, she lacked options so she thanked Wes
again, then climbed into the car. The cloth bucket seats were worn and torn in
places. The dashboard sported a few splits in the vinyl and there was one
hairline crack across the top of the windshield.
In the east, the sun rose, golden
sunshine highlighting a few lingering clouds.
“It’s going to be a pretty day,”
Kaitlin told him.
Shane shot her a questioning look,
then nodded.
“At least it’s not raining but we’ll
be on the road most of it.”
“Do we have that far to go?”
He hesitated before he answered the
question. “No, but we’re taking the long way.”
She didn’t like the idea. “Do we
have to?”
“Do you want to stay alive?”
A cold rush of fear drowned the
bright mood she’d managed. “Yes.”
“Then we do it my way and you don’t
ask questions,” Shane told her. “We’re not on a pleasure trip.”
Stung by his harsher tone, she
responded, “I know that.”
Kaitlin shut her mouth. The tension
absent earlier had returned. She saw it in his rigid posture and the way he
gripped the steering wheel of the small car. He wasn’t smiling now and his
features were set in a grim expression that she didn’t like. She’d made the
mistake of forgetting the events of the past day. Her thoughts darkened as she
remembered she’d almost been shot twice, once at her wedding yesterday. She
hadn’t wanted to be there but she didn’t want to die either. The past few
months haunted her. Chad, never the true love or shining prince of fairy tales,
had changed toward her. Once, he’d been eager to spend time together. They’d
dined out, visited a few clubs, made trips to places both enjoyed. During
spring break, he’d taken her to Branson and for a dinner cruise out on
Tablerock Lake. Kaitlin had loved it but Chad had been distant and bored. He’d
slipped away often to make furtive phone calls and hardly spoke to her. He
either ate little or went on wild, indulgent food binges. Chad craved what she
considered weird things at odd times. Once, at a buffet he had eaten nothing
but desserts—cake and pie and cookies, and bowls of ice cream. Another time,
he’d wanted a St. Paul sandwich, available only in St. Louis and drove there to
get several. Not a fan of egg foo yong on white bread topped with pickles,
lettuce, tomato, and mayonnaise, Kaitlin skipped that trip.
He’d been eating pills, she had
noticed, popping them from unmarked bottles he always kept in his pocket. If
she’d been wise to the drug abuse sooner, she would never have accepted the
engagement ring or continued to date Chad. By the time she’d noticed, the
wedding had been planned and was set in concrete. His once even temper had
vanished, making him often volatile and on a few occasions verbally abusive.
Her doubts had grown as the wedding approached and the argument she’d overheard
had increased them.
Sunlight caught the sparkling ring
she still wore and reflected on the car’s ceiling. Kaitlin tugged it off and
put it in her purse.
“Tired of wearing his rock?” Shane
asked. The man never seemed to miss anything.
“I was, a long time ago.”
He snorted. “Then why didn’t you
call off the wedding?”
His question hit her in the gut. “I
thought about it, even that day.”
“But you couldn’t resist Doc Goldilocks’s
sex appeal,” Shane said. “Or was it his bank account?”
“Neither one,” she replied with more
than a little snark. “I was a little concerned how he’d react, for one, and
two, you wouldn’t understand, but I wanted to belong somewhere.”
Shane mumbled something she couldn’t
quite hear. Kaitlin wasn’t sure if it was an apology or another sarcastic
remark. She brushed away a stray tear from her left eye, then said what she’d
wanted to several times. “You really have issues with Chad, don’t you?”
His focus shifted from the highway
to her. “I do and you don’t?”
“Well, yes, I do.”
“You should. Remember, there’s a lot
about him in the files I have and none of it is positive.”
“Calling him snide nicknames isn’t
very professional, that’s all,” Kaitlin said although she found some of them
highly amusing. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were jealous or
something.”
“Maybe I am.”
His answer shocked her and she
wondered if he was serious. If he was, she both liked the idea and was
frightened by it. Shane captured her attention, much more than he should have.
One day ago, she started down the aisle to say “I do” to another man but now
she longed to kiss Shane. Those few moments in his arms at the motel in Neosho
had been sweet and she’d felt safe, until the bullets flew.
Kaitlin gave up on conversation for
the moment. She stared out the passenger window and watched the scenery
pass—farms, woods, hills and valleys, small towns, and convenience stores in
the middle of nowhere. Any other time, she would have enjoyed the view but now
she had little interest. After an hour, they approached Neosho and she
recognized the motel on one corner of a four-way stop where they’d been
ambushed. At that distance she saw the blue tarp covering the broken window and
the bright yellow of crime scene tape. She shuddered, remembering.
Once they headed to another highway,
Shane wheeled into a convenience store and pulled up to the gas pumps.
“Do you want anything?” he asked.
“No, thanks.”
After he fueled the Ford, she
watched as he headed inside to pay, admiring his rear view. He returned with a
paper, wearing a dark frown.
“What’s wrong?”
“We made the paper,” he stated and
handed her the unfolded newspaper.
Shoot-out at Local Motel, the headline screamed. The story, light on details, was
filled with sensationalism and stated that an unknown couple were cornered by
armed individuals at the budget motel. No injuries were reported and the
identities remained unknown.
“It doesn’t mention us.”
“No, but if someone’s still looking,
and I have no doubt they are, it’s there in black and white.”
A photo accompanied the story, one
clear enough that she could see her tattered bridal gown hanging in the
background, recognizable to anyone familiar with the wedding. “I get your
point,” she told him.
Kaitlin folded it with extreme care
and put it on the floorboard with a sigh.
In a few miles, he switched highways
and headed east. She stopped slouching and sat up.
“We’ll be in Granby soon.”
“Congratulations, Navigator. Yeah,
that’s right.”
She grew up in Aurora so this was
familiar country. “Are we going back to Springfield?”
“Republic. I need to call into the
local office and see if there are any developments. I’m sure questions have
come up since I didn’t take you to KC.”
Her tummy rolled and she struggled
not to vomit breakfast.
“Does that mean we’re going to
Kansas City? Are you going to really arrest me?”
“No and no. You’re already in
protective custody, Kaitlin, as a material witness, but it’s my custody.”
“If we’re not heading to The Lou,
then where are we going?”
“You’ll find out when we get there,”
Shane said as he sipped from a can of soda. “So will I.”
The towns flew past like pages in a
book, the oldest mining town in Southwest Missouri, Granby, Monett, where they
passed a golf course, park, a big discount store, and several chain
restaurants, then Aurora. They didn’t go into town, just traveled the highway
corridor, but now Kaitlin paid attention.
“Can we stop here?” she asked. “I’d
like to use the bathroom.”
“This is the one place we can’t
stop,” Shane answered. “It’s your hometown and you’re likely to see old
neighbors or classmates, which would create questions.”
At Billings, Kaitlin wished they
could stop at a small diner with a tiny motel. She’d slept a little at Wes’s
place but her body craved rest. Her eyes burned as if they were filled with
sand. She almost pointed the place out to Shane but didn’t. One look at his
serious expression shut down the possibility and her desire to ask.
When they reached Republic, the road
stretched into multiple lanes with access to more retail businesses than she
could count. Familiar fast-food logos stood out among the discount store signs,
and businesses that dealt in everything from jewelry to home improvement and
furniture. They hit morning drive time traffic, what passed for rush hour in a
small town so the car inched forward. He appeared to be familiar with the small
town and when she asked, he told her he lived a little south. At the first easy
exit, Shane entered the lot for a large convenience store.
“If you still need a restroom,
here’s your chance.”
Kaitlin nodded and headed inside.
When she returned to the vehicle, he had the Springfield paper spread out over
the steering wheel. His forehead was creased with a worry line and his lips
were ruler straight.
“Did the shoot-out make the paper
this far away?” she asked, as she slid into the seat.
He folded the paper back and shook
his head. “No, but your death did.”
Her lungs ceased working and she had
no air to breathe. Kaitlin’s chest tightened and she stared at him. Maybe her
ears had quit too because she couldn’t believe what he had said.
“What?”
“According to that, you died after
the shooting,” he told her. “The story, with no byline except From Staff
Reports, says that ‘the bride, 29-year-old Kaitlin Joy Corbin, was
pronounced dead on arrival at a local hospital after a random shooting at her
wedding. Corbin’s fiancé, Dr. Chad Cox, was not injured in the attack. Three
guests were treated and released for minor injuries.”
“That’s not true!” If she could talk, she must be
breathing but it didn’t feel that way“Of
course it’s not,” Shane said. “But it means you’re in even more danger than I
thought. Somebody knows you’re alive or they wouldn’t have tried to kill you night
before last at the motel.”
“Chad
thinks I’m dead?”
Shane
shrugged. “That remains to be seen. I’m glad I saw this before I called the
marshal’s office, though.”
“You
have to tell them I’m alive,” she said. Her heart had climbed into her throat
where it froze into a hunk of ice.
“Let’s
see what they say first.”
He
had to be joking and she didn’t find it funny, not at all, and told him so.
“I’m
not amused either. If they also think you’re dead, then this thing just got
more complicated and confusing.”
Shane
drove to a larger parking lot where multiple stores ringed the concrete. Most
had not opened yet or were just unlocking the doors. Kaitlin watched as he took
out his work cell and turned it on. Immediately it beeped to indicate messages,
which he ignored.
“It’s
Raincrow,” he barked into the receiver when someone answered. “Let me talk to Mickelberg.
Yeah, it’s urgent.”
“Put
it on speaker,” Kaitlin whispered. She needed to hear this as much as he did.
“Mickelberg,”
a gruff voice said. “This had better be good, Raincrow. You’ve been AWOL since
the wedding shooting. I had begun to think you were as dead as the material
witness.”
“I’m
alive and kicking but I wasn’t aware Ms. Corbin was deceased.”
“She
died that night and our case with her. Where in the name of the Devil have you
been?”
“I
was attempting to locate her, as ordered.”
“You
wasted your time, then. There’s no need to protect a dead witness.”
“Will
there be a service? I’d like to pay my respects.”
Kaitlin
listened, desperate for answers.
“None.
She had no family, no last wishes, no funeral plans in place. Her fiancé
donated her body to science so she was shipped to the UMKC Medical School. Her
cadaver will help students learn anatomy.”
“I
see,” Shane said. If he did, Kaitlin didn’t and she parted her lips to speak.
Shane clapped his large hand over his lips and shook his head. “Did she have a
will?”
“No,
but Dr. Cox said he’d let it go through probate. I have a new assignment for
you—a money laundering case down in Forsythe. Word is that
the perps are using—get this—a laundromat as their base. Get your ass in and
I’ll get the file for you.”
“I’ll
be there later today, maybe tomorrow.”
“Don’t
try me, Raincrow, and don’t go rogue. I need you in my office by noon.”
The
call ended. Shane swore as he popped the battery out of the phone, then drove
to the nearest trash receptable. He tossed the battery into it, then crossed
the lot to another and threw the phone inside.
“Don’t you need a phone?” she asked.
“Not that one,” Shane replied. “They could track me
with it. I have a burner cell. Only my family has that number.”
He drove at speed to the highway and turned back west.
“Shane,
why didn’t you tell him I’m alive?” she asked.
“It
would put you in greater danger if I did and at this point, he wouldn’t believe
me unless I delivered you to the office or the safe house in Kansas City. Then
you most likely would be killed.”
“I
don’t understand.”
He
reached over and took her hand. His skin radiated warmth. “Honey, I don’t either,”
he told her. “I wish I did but I’ll keep you safe.”
Kaitlin
held his hand and started to cry. She’d cried more in the last two days than
she had in years. “I want to believe you.”
“You
can,” he said. “Just trust me to get this all figured out.”
She
nodded because her options were scarce and what else could she do?
Pick up a pre-order until Wednesday February 8, then order. Here are the links:
Tall Dark And Cherokee links:
Coleman Raincrow's dog Waya:
Shane's ancestor, Ned Christie
Grandfather's place
Happy reading!!!
