Chapter 6
Evie wanted to scream and yet didn’t want to give Wyatt the satisfaction.
She was caught in the back seat of an SUV, with no idea what the hell was going on.
She’d been talking with Wyatt one minute and then he’d used her as a shield.
Against men with guns. A howl built in her throat, fighting to break free.
Behind them there was more shouting and she could barely make out the casino security team hesitating near the doors.
The man near the front passenger door fired his gun, the horrible sound cracking through the blowing wind.
She looked up, afraid of the worst, but she didn’t see blood or any sign that the bullets had hit any of the men.
“Let me out! Let me go, please.” She hated begging, but she had to get out of here before they were off casino property.
“Please, Wyatt.” The big SUV rolled forward and she scrambled to climb over him, but he pushed her back down.
She kicked at the man behind her as he climbed in and closed the door, but he barely noticed.
“So you do know each other,” the man up front said. “I thought you might.” To the driver, he gave the order to go.
“Please let me out,” she said again.
Wyatt was a criminal. She was trapped in a car full of criminals.
She forced herself to note details of the strangers so she could give the police an accurate description whenever she got out of this.
The driver, with his pale blond buzz cut, chapped cheeks, and square face reminded her of one of those cross-country skiers from Norway.
Except she quickly realized he couldn’t drive in the snow.
The man beside her was bulky and bigger than Wyatt.
He had a pleasant, but forgettable face and his dark brown hair was short, not unlike any number of businessmen who sat down at her table for a game of poker.
This couldn’t be happening. Of all the wicked curve balls life had thrown at her, this was the most insulting. The most inexplicable. The absurdity sank in and she fought back with all the steel she could muster. “Let me out,” she demanded, her tone flat and calm.
Up front, the man in charge buckled his seatbelt. Twisting around, he stuck out his hand as if they were two professionals being introduced at a meeting. The gun across his lap mocked the pleasant expression on his face. “Miss Cotton, it’s a pleasure to meet you at last. Tate Cordell.”
Tate Cordell? No. Way. “This isn’t happening,” she muttered. This man couldn’t be Tate. “I don’t believe you.”
“Believe it. I didn’t expect to meet you here. Not like this. But our Wyatt is full of surprises.” Her stomach curdled at the admiration in his tone. “That was a brilliant move.”
“Absolutely the last brilliant thing you’ll do,” she vowed under her breath. She was getting out of here, even if it meant hiking back to the casino in her heels. Frostbite was better than whatever they had planned.
Wedged between Wyatt and the other man in the back seat, she leaned forward and batted aside the boss’s outstretched hand. “You can’t be Tate Cordell. The real Tate emailed me this morning. He’s a reputable investor currently waiting out the storm in Rapid City.”
The man slapped the driver in the shoulder. “See, Baker, I told you it was believable.”
“Guess I owe you twenty bucks.” Baker glanced at her in the rearview mirror, an unsavory glint in his gaze.
“But you sent the money.”
“You make an affordable patsy,” Tate said, as if ten grand was petty cash.
“We gave ourselves a tour of your staging barn. Looks good. And your business proposal is sound. If I were legit it would’ve been a smart investment.
Go ahead and keep the money. For the assist out of the casino and the general inconvenience. ”
Rattled, it took her several seconds to process his words.
One of these men broke into the barn last night.
This morning she’d had hope. Now she was a hostage, surrounded by criminals, and if she survived this, her business might be lost anyway.
She couldn’t build up a legitimate business on a foundation of criminal funding.
She lunged at Tate, ready to claw the smirk right off his face. The stranger to her left hauled her back. “Get your hands off me!” Before she realized his intention, he’d looped a plastic tie around her wrists and zipped it tight.
“Is that necessary, Karl?” Wyatt asked. “Where can she go?” He wriggled around, buckling the seatbelt under her hands and over her lap.
“Gee, thanks. Now you’re thinking of my safety?”
“Always.”
She glared at him, refusing to dignify that outrageous lie with any kind of response.
Unable to bear looking at him, she deliberately turned her gaze to the windshield.
How many mistakes could one woman make? She’d trusted Wyatt when they were kids and he’d crushed her.
Yes, she’d vetted Tate Cordell as an investor and clearly been fooled by the details available online.
The back end of the SUV shimmied as Baker took a turn too fast through the wet, compacted snow. “Do you even know how to drive in these conditions?”
“He’s fine,” Tate barked.
“At this rate, your driver will kill us before you can spend the cash you stole.”
“You think I showed up for a little petty theft?” He snorted. “We just stole a fortune in diamonds, including the Mae West Solitaire.”
Baker and Karl gave a cheer, but she noticed Wyatt’s reticence. It was hardly enough to explain or excuse his involvement here. According to the press during that era Mae West claimed the diamond was too big to wear often and too small to be cursed. At the moment, it felt pretty cursed to Evie.
“Karl come on with the gear.” Tate snapped his fingers. “I’m cold.”
The tires fishtailed again. The smart move was to hunker down and wait out this storm.
Well, the smartest move was not to rob a casino in the first place.
But since they had, they should be going south toward potentially clear roads.
Baker, presumably obeying Tate’s orders, seemed determined to be winding his way north.
“Why did you take me?” she asked Wyatt.
“That’s enough out of you.” Tate bounced into the door as Baker skidded around a downed tree limb. “Keep her quiet,” he snarled at Wyatt.
While Karl was doubled over the rear seat for the stash of coats and cold-weather gear, she used the distraction and the swaying vehicle, trying to unbuckle her seatbelt with her cuffed hands.
Wyatt caught her. “Stop it, right now.” He pressed his elbow into her belly to hold her still.
His blue gaze bored straight through her with laser-like intensity.
Not unlike the time she’d sliced open her arm after taking a tumble on a trail.
Then it had been comforting as he cleaned the wound for her.
Right now, she had no idea how to reconcile that potent look with his criminal actions.
She sucked in a sharp breath when he released her.
“You won’t get away with this,” she vowed.
She tried to kick his shins just on principle, but he caught her wrists in his hands and gripped hard.
Under his grasp, the cuffs dug into her cold skin.
She gasped, hating the sheen of tears that blurred her vision.
“Behave,” he said the word soundlessly.
It hurt more than her pride that she was caught here.
She had to find a way out before they were so far out of town that she’d die of exposure if she escaped.
From her vantage point, she scanned the dashboard, wincing when she saw the outside temperature was reading ten degrees below zero.
Add in the wind and her odds of surviving anything more than a short walk were slim to none.
She knuckled away a tear from her cheek before the men noticed.
Tate, Karl, and Wyatt were wrestling themselves into coats, gloves and scarves, stomping into boots. More confirmation of Wyatt’s willing choice to be here.
“Got anything in my size?” she asked Karl, just in case.
“Let him keep you warm,” Karl said, aiming a sly look over her head to Wyatt.
Repulsed, she shrank back into her seat. She wasn’t getting out, not yet anyway, but she couldn’t give up. She pressed her hands between her thighs, hoping her temper would keep her warm.
Wyatt grumbled. “Come on, man. Do we have anything to keep her warm?” Without waiting for Karl to move, he unbuckled and twisted around to look for himself. Righting himself, he dragged a blanket over her lap and pulled it up, tucking it around her shoulders.
“Thanks.” It was hard to even give him that much. It was probably smart that her hands were tied. She wanted to strangle him. She pressed her lips together to keep her teeth from chattering. The reaction was more about the nerves at this point than the cold.
Under the blanket, she cautiously stretched her wrists against the zip tie. Did Wyatt realize he’d given her a chance to escape? Of everyone in this car, he should know she wouldn’t give up.
Sure she was only one woman against three armed men in the middle of the worst blizzard in nearly a century. There were better odds at a roulette table.
No matter, Evie had been making her own luck for years now.
“Can’t you go faster?” Tate asked Baker.
He pressed on the accelerator and the wheels spun. “Not if I don’t have to.”
“Are there chains on the tires?” she asked Wyatt. He shook his head. “Then turn south.”
He pressed a finger to his lips, the universal signal for silence.
“Keep her quiet,” Tate warned. “Karl, anything on the police scanner?”
Evie turned to the man on her left. She hadn’t even noticed Karl working with a handheld scanner. “Nothing. I don’t know if the network is down or if they just aren’t moving.”
“Both, most likely,” Wyatt said, echoing Evie’s thoughts.