Barb Han - Texas Takedown

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“Not on I-35. Whoever that was will be expecting that. And we don’t know how many people are involved.”

“Won’t he scour the city until he finds us?”

“He’ll try.”

Brody answered on the first ring. “What’s going on?”

“You’re on speaker and I have Samantha in the car.”

“Is she okay?”

“Yes.”

“Rebecca will be so relieved. She’s been worried sick. You guys heading home?” Brody asked.

“Can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Long story, but we need your help.” He didn’t want to repeat everything that Samantha had told him. It would only dredge up bad memories for Rebecca, especially since this couldn’t be Thomas Kramer. Thomas Kramer had acted alone. And Thomas Kramer was dead. Not to mention the fact that he was part of the breakdown crew for a traveling festival. Not exactly someone who had the connections or money to hire men like the ones who’d come after Samantha. The only person in town who could financially back an operation like this would be someone like Charles Alcorn, the town’s wealthiest resident. But it couldn’t be him.

Alcorn had played a critical role in the investigation fifteen years ago. Everyone in town had been thoroughly investigated. Dylan was getting punchy.

It could, however, be someone tied to Kramer.

Whatever game this creep was playing was about to end.

“What do you need from me?” Brody asked.

“Get me what you can on Thomas Kramer. I want to know everything about him. Friends, family, known hangouts.”

“You got it.” Brody cursed under his breath.

“Why him?”

“I’ll explain later.” Dylan cut a hard right and then a left. “But we need a safe place to stay.”

“Why not go to the police?” Having served in the military, Brody still had connections—connections that could come in handy.

“Not yet.”

“I’ll make a few calls and find a place for you to hide within the hour. I have a lot of friends in Austin. Until then, stay on the move. We’ll figure this out,” Brody said. “I’ll let the others know what’s going on, too.”

Dylan looped around downtown four times before the phone rang again.

“I have a location for you. I found a small place behind a bar on Sixth Street.” Brody relayed the address. “I would’ve liked to get you farther out of town but I figured you’d want internet access and you needed someplace quick. Plus, with all the foot traffic, it’ll be easier to disappear in the crowd. Big Mike is working the bar and he’s expecting you both. He’ll have keys and can give you any passwords you need to use the internet.”

“Hey, thanks, Brody.”

“Keep me posted. And good luck.”

Luck? He blew out a sharp breath. Since he’d left his four-leaf clover in his other pants, he’d have to rely on skills the US Army had taught him to stay alive.

* * *

SAMANTHA WAS BEGINNING to shake off the mental fog that came with the hard slap of reality that she was now on the run with Dylan. She shouldn’t notice his thick, muscled arms. Nor should she get too comfortable in the sense of relief being this near him brought.

If she was going to be running for her life, she certainly wanted to be with a man who looked as if he could handle whatever was thrown at them. That was a given. But feeling as though somehow everything was magically going to be all right because Dylan had shown up was naive, no matter how capable he was. And her father was still in danger. “What’s the plan now?”

“You tell me everything. We put our heads together and figure this out.”

“I already said. He’s going to keep coming until both my father and I are dead. Dad said as much.” She rubbed her temples to stave off the headache threatening. It was a potent mix of frustration and exhaustion.

“Then, we need to write another ending.” He touched her hand to reassure her but instead it sent fissures of heat swirling up her arm.

“We can’t hide forever. Whoever is behind this will find us.” She hated how weak and fearful her own voice sounded. But she was afraid. And there was no use hiding it.

Dylan’s gaze shifted from the rearview to the road as he jerked the steering wheel in another hard right turn. “We have company.”

Horns blared as Dylan made a few quick turns, navigating the crowded streets of downtown. Samantha’s “fight, freeze or flight” response rocketed through the roof and she battled against the urge to jump out of the car and set out on foot.

Traffic was so thick the black sedan couldn’t get close. Yet it kept pace with every turn six cars back.

Dylan muttered a curse at the same time Samantha thought it. With Dylan involved, she feared the threats against her, her family and her friends were going to be delivered on.

“I’m scared.” She hated admitting it, but acknowledging her feelings had always made them less overwhelming. Especially after her mother’s death.

“Think of what you’ll be doing next week.”

“What?” Damn weakness. Growing up in a house full of boys had taught her to fend for herself. Yet she was so out of her league here that her nerves were spiraling out of control. She needed to calm down and figure this out. Everything had happened so fast she hadn’t had a chance to process it.

“You know what I’ll be doing?” he said, his calm voice settling over her.

She shook her head.

“I’ll be picking Maribel up from school about now.”

The image of him, all muscle-and-steel man, tenderly holding his little girl, stirred her heart in ways she’d never experienced. She’d seen him at the grocery with Maribel a few times, witnessed his tenderness with his daughter.

“You need to drop me off somewhere and go to her.”

“I’m not leaving you alone, Samantha. End of conversation.” A mix of emotion played out across his features, determination rising to the top. “What about you? What are you going to be doing this time next week?”

“My dad invited me to go fishing with him.” Her dad. Where was he? What have you done, Daddy?

“Good. Focus on that when you get scared. Know that you will be sitting next to him on his boat, hauling in the largest catfish either of you have ever seen.”

“That’s his favorite. Loves the taste of blues.”

“The man has good taste.”

Samantha had a clear mental picture, and it was working.

“Better?”

“Yes.” Much to her surprise, it was helping a little. Then again, Dylan’s confidence was addicting. She’d have to work harder to ignore the sensual shivers his touch brought.

“Hand me the duffel.” His voice was level and calm, the complete opposite of the emotions still trilling through Samantha.

“Okay. What now? What do we do?” The sheer amount of foot traffic on the sidewalk and the streets made it impossible to get away. If they didn’t make a move soon, the driver would edge his way closer until he could get a good shot.

Dylan told her the address of the hideout.

“On three, I want you to open that door and run into the alley. Don’t look back. No matter what happens, keep going. Got it?”

“What if—?”

“One...”

The thought of splitting up and going in different directions had Samantha bracing for a full-on panic attack. She’d have to trust that Dylan knew what he was doing.

Given what she’d been through in the past few days, the idea of trusting anyone was almost laughable.

“Two...”

He glanced at her as though searching for confirmation.

She nodded and gripped the door handle.

“Three. Go!”

She pushed the door open and burst from the car, jolting toward the alley lined with parked vehicles until her thighs burned. Students were everywhere.