Cherise Sinclair - Edge of the Enforcer

So they’d been watching Simon’s building when she picked up Rona and Dixon. And she’d been oblivious. Now Becca and Ansel would pay for her mistake. Despair clogged her throat, weighted her chest. God, I’m so sorry. “My friends will be looking for you. They’ll find you.”

“Doubt it. By the time they notice you’re missing, they’ll figure you decided to go into town. That’s why we took your car and left my junker rental.” He showed badly rotting teeth as he grinned. “And nobody knows nothing about you—doubt you told your boyfriend you’re wanted for murder.”

Zander did know. And so all the men would start looking for her right away. They’d look for Parnell too. I have to hold on. Stall.

In the swirling snow, the dark outline of a small cabin suddenly materialized. The man parked behind the low wooden rail, which blocked the way to the house.

Without waiting for her to get her footing, he dragged her across the uneven ground and shoved her through the front door so hard she fell to her knees.

Pulling in a deliberate breath, she shook her hair from her face and looked around. The one-room cabin had a woodstove in the far corner, bunk beds on the right. In the middle, Becca sat in a wooden chair, ankles secured to the legs. Her wrists were bound, forcing her to hold Ansel awkwardly in the circle of her arms. Her red-gold hair hung in tangles down her green sweater. Bruising showed on her white, strained face. Tears filled her eyes when she recognized Lindsey.

“Good job, Morales.” The voice was familiar.

Lindsey turned her head. At a battered kitchen table, a man the size of a bear rose to his feet, and her hopes dropped like a rock breaking through ice. She’d known Parnell was here but had hoped Ricks wasn’t. Stan had been right about Parnell and Ricks not trusting each other.

Ricks looked down at her. Although his eyes were shadowed by dark brows, the lust in them showed too clearly. “Guess I’m going to get some playtime.”

Lindsey forced herself not to look away. You tangle with me, I’ll have your hide, John Wayne would have said. If only she could.

“Playtime? Maybe.” Police Chief Parnell sat at the other end of the table. Victor’s brother had brown hair shaved to military shortness, a medium height, lean body, and deep-set eyes holding cold rage. A knife was sheathed at his hip, a pistol on the other. “Nice of you to join us, dear sister-in-law.”

The way he looked at her chilled her to the bone. She’d shot his brother. He’d killed Craig without a second thought—what would he do to her?

Parnell set his coffee down, picked up his chair, and carried it the few feet across the room to place it beside Becca.

Becca’s gaze met Lindsey’s, desperation in their depths. A mother whose child was at risk.

My fault. God, I’m sorry, Becca.

“Question-and-answer time.” Ricks yanked Lindsey to her feet and burrowed his face into the crook of her neck and shoulder.

Gritting her teeth, she struggled, tried to elbow him. He wrapped a thick arm around her waist and groped her breasts.

“Ricks, give it a rest. Put her in the chair,” Parnell snapped and turned to Morales. “Go make sure no one followed you in.”

“Got it.” As Morales left, Parnell grabbed the front of Lindsey’s flannel shirt, wrenched her away from Ricks, and shoved her into the chair beside Becca. His mouth twisted with impatience. “Where’d you put the memory drives?”

“Well…” She’d known this was what they’d ask, and unhappily hadn’t come up with a response. If she said Stan now had the drives, they’d cut their losses and kill her, Becca, and Ansel. Even if she bargained the location in exchange for the other two’s freedom, Parnell wouldn’t honor his word. Becca could identify them; they wouldn’t leave her alive.

Did they think Lindsey was stupid?

The only hope was an escape or rescue, no matter how unlikely. Stall. “I hid the stuff really well. You’ll never find a thing.” She gave Parnell a slight smirk.

He backhanded her so hard the chair rocked. Pain blasted into her cheek, tears springing to her eyes.

Becca made a sound, a low whining, “Nooo.”

Blinking, Lindsey shook her head to clear her vision, to hide her tears. I can’t do this.

“Don’t give me shit,” Parnell said.

Her voice came out shaky. “The flash drives are hidden.”

“Stupid bitch.” Ricks stepped outside. “Morales, did you find anything when you searched her cabin?”

“What the fuck you think?”

Ricks slammed the door. “Asshole.”

The chief snorted. “He’s reliable enough. I don’t care if he lacks manners.” From his pocket, he drew out long plastic zip ties and anchored Lindsey’s left ankle to the chair leg, wrapping it over her boot below her jeans hem. He did the same on the right.

“Why bother?” Ricks moved closer. “She gave herself up.”

“When I interrogate someone, I don’t want them moving. Especially this cunt who killed my brother.” His attention turned back to Lindsey. “Tell me the hiding place.”

“Fuck, I figure the struggle is the best part.” From behind her chair, Ricks reached around to grab her breasts painfully. She tried to jerk away as he squeezed and pinched. “Fight me, bitch. I don’t mind.”

“I do mind.” With his open hand, Parnell slapped her, knocking her head back. “Where?”

The entire world pulsed with red-edged pain. A sob twisted in her chest. Her whole face felt scalded. As she sucked air in small pants, the sweat stench from Ricks roiled her stomach.

Startled by the shout, Ansel had woken and was crying. His little hands waved helplessly. Tears rolled down Becca’s cheeks. With her son in her lap, she could do nothing to help.

Ansel needs me. Think. Please, think. Lindsey swallowed down sickness and forced herself to look at Parnell. “If you let Becca and the baby go, I’ll take you to the memory drives.”

If only one man took Becca from the cabin, Becca would do her best to escape him.

“Tell me now, or I’ll slit Mama’s throat.” Parnell’s thin lips tipped up. “This close, her blood will spray all over you before she dies.”

Ice formed splinters in her heart, hurting and tearing. Chilling her. “I don’t—” have the drives. No, he mustn’t find out she’d given them to Stan.

Ricks squeezed her breasts, making her grunt with the pain. Nauseating her. She let the retching sound escape. “Please, I’m gonna—” She gagged, started to heave.

Both men stepped back.

“S-sorry.” Pretending she was trying to regain control, she looked around. Parnell’s pistol was strapped down. Ricks wasn’t wearing one. Couldn’t make a grab and succeed.

Beside the woodstove was the bathroom. The open door let her see a book-size window. Too small. No back door. In the yard, she’d seen the two front windows had bars on the outside. No easy escape.

“Can we just…just make a deal?” she asked.

Parnell unsheathed his knife. “No deals. Talk fast.” Setting the blade under Becca’s chin, he pricked her skin. A drop of blood appeared.

Becca closed her eyes, holding her son so, so carefully. Ansel stared up at Parnell, blue eyes full of tears, little chest hitching with his crying.

Despair welled up in Lindsey. There was no way out. Lie. If it didn’t get her killed immediately, it might buy some time. “The jump drives are at the lodge, but—”

With a rattle, the door opened, and Morales stuck his head in. “Hey, snow’s getting deep. We’re going to need chains on the tires to get out of here. If we want to leave in a hurry, should put them on now.”