Chapter Ten
A harsh laugh echoed from beneath the helmet. Turning his back to the truck, he lifted the visor. “How did you know? Even my own sister didn’t recognize me.” His voice was slightly accented now, similar to Sierra’s accent, as he stopped trying to disguise it.
“That’s because she’s still grieving. She thinks you’re dead and has no reason to suspect otherwise.”
Esteban winced.
“Why aren’t you?” Beau asked. “Dead? Or more to the point, why are you pretending to be dead, allowing her and the rest of your family to think that? And who’s in the grave with your name on it?”
A loud, harsh sigh sounded through the opening in the helmet. “It’s a long story. One neither of us has time for. You don’t need to take Randy anywhere. I’ll take care of him.”
Not daring to turn his attention away from Sierra’s brother, Beau watched Esteban as he listened to the wounded man’s breathing. It seemed steady, unlabored, for now. But it wouldn’t stay that way much longer, not without urgent medical care.
“I’m guessing you don’t plan on transporting him on your motorcycle, if there even is a motorcycle.”
“Oh, there is. I wasn’t lying about that. I’ll get some guys to take him soon.”
“Soon? You have more thugs on their way here already?”
“I wouldn’t call them thugs, exactly.” He shrugged. “I called them as soon as you arrived.”
“Called? Ah. You’ve been using a signal jammer. That’s why we couldn’t call for backup.”
“I cover my bases.” He motioned over his shoulder. “Sierra will be leaving with me. You might as well send her over here and get going. While you still can.”
“Brave talk for a man with a gun pointed at his gut.”
His mouth curved in a reluctant smile. “True enough. But my men would avenge me. Unless you want to be the cause of your own death, you won’t pull the trigger. Time’s running out, both for you and Randy. What’s it going to be?”
“Why did you fake your death. Why did your men break into my cabin? And why did they try to kill me just now, even with Sierra here who also could have been killed?”
Esteban’s smile faded. “There were going to be consequences for them putting her in danger. But your shootout solved that problem for me. They got jumpy while I was in the woods, started firing when they should have waited. Regardless, we didn’t expect her to be with you.
One of my men in town said he’d seen a cop take her into the jail.
Another one saw the police chief’s truck heading out of town.
The plan was to surround you from both ends of this ridiculously long road.
I wanted to take you hostage, to use you as a bargaining chip to get my sister out of jail.
” His hands fisted at his sides. “Like I said, things didn’t turn out as expected.
The group of guys I’m working with these days is unpredictable.
” He looked around. “What a mess. I don’t know how I’m going to fix this.
But first things first. I’m taking my sister with me. ”
Esteban suddenly ducked down and swept his leg out. But Beau anticipated his action. He dodged out of the way and slammed his fist into Esteban’s jaw, spinning him around. Esteban managed to keep from falling, but he froze when Beau jammed the muzzle of his pistol against Esteban’s forehead.
“One more move, one little twitch and it’s lights-out, Covington.”
Esteban stared at him, his dark eyes hot with rage. “You don’t have a clue what you’re getting into the middle of, here.”
“Then, explain it to me. What’s going on? Why did your father’s men break into my cabin? Why are you in my town causing trouble?”
Esteban rolled his eyes, much like Sierra often did. “They’re not my father’s men. They’re mine.”
“Is there a difference?”
Esteban snorted. “You have no idea.”
The distant sound of an engine had both of them tensing.
Esteban’s gaze darted toward the road behind Beau, confirming what that sound meant.
His men were coming up the mountain from the direction of Chattanooga and would be here any minute.
No doubt there were others coming in from the direction of Mystic Lake too.
He and Sierra were surrounded. He had to get her out of here, fast. Dealing with her brother would have to wait for another time.
Beau backed up, still pointing his pistol at the other man. “Call your men. Tell them not to shoot at my truck. Call them, or die right here, right now. I’m out of patience.”
“Damn it, lawman. I want my sister.”
“Until I know why you’re here and why you faked your death, I can’t assume that you won’t hurt her. She stays with me.”
Esteban swore.
“Call them. Now.”
“Okay, okay.” He slowly pulled out his phone, eyeing Beau’s pistol as he did. Then he punched in a number.
“Put it on Speaker mode. And speak in English,” Beau warned.
Esteban ordered his men to stand down, to wait for him. Then he ended the call. “What now, cop?”
“Drop your phone. I don’t want you calling them back and changing your orders the second I back away.”
Esteban pitched it onto the road.
Beau brought his boot down hard on the screen, crushing it.
Esteban’s jaw tightened. “You owe me a new phone.”
“I’m sure you can afford to buy another one. Sierra and I are leaving. You and I will continue this conversation another day. In the meantime, if anyone harms one hair on her head, nothing will stop me from hunting you down. Understood?”
Esteban narrowed his eyes. “Why would you care what happens to her?”
“The same reason I care what happens to any innocent victim. I mean it. One hair.”
“Same goes for me. You hurt her, copper, you die.”
“I would expect nothing less from a loving, caring brother such as yourself who’s led her to believe you’re dead and whose men shot at her twice today.” Sarcasm dripped from every word. An angry tic in the side of the man’s jaw told Beau his barb had found its target.
“Lie down on the road with your hands behind your back,” Beau ordered. “Don’t get up until I’m gone.”
The engine was louder now. The vehicle coming up from Chattanooga was dangerously close, probably around the next curve.
“Do it,” Beau ordered, quickly backing toward his truck, his pistol trained on the other man.
Esteban flipped his visor down, then did as ordered, positioning himself with his head turned so he could watch Beau.
The muffled distant sound of a second engine whining up the mountain from the direction of Mystic Lake had Beau swearing and racing the rest of the way to his truck.
He hopped into the driver’s seat, unsurprised to see that Sierra’s brother had jumped up the moment his back was turned.
He was running away from them, arms waving as yet another dark-colored SUV barreled around the curve toward them.
“No dispares,” Esteban yelled. “Don’t shoot.”
Sierra stared at motorcycle guy, then shook her head as if trying to focus.
“What happened between you two? What in the world is going on?” She clutched one of the other pistols that Beau had tossed in his backpack at his cabin and was aiming it through the hole where the windshield used to be, right at the SUV.
Hoping to avoid another barrage of gunfire, he grabbed the gun from her and set it in the console. “Get on the floor.”
“What? No, I don’t—”
“It’s the safest place in the truck. The engine block should keep any bullets from hitting you if they fire at us.”
She didn’t move, clearly aggravated.
“Sierra—”
“Okay, okay. I know the routine,” she snapped, turning around and sliding down into the footwell.
Beau sweated for a second, hoping the engine would still work after all the gunfire that had hit his truck. He blew out a breath in relief when it started right up.
He swung his truck around and floored the accelerator. It peeled out, the smell of burning rubber filling the cab as the truck shot down the road toward Mystic Lake.
Beau tossed the Kevlar vest on top of her.
She yelled in Spanish at him. Although he had no clue what she was saying, he was quite certain he didn’t want to know. And dang if she wasn’t adorable when she was ticked off. He had to bite his cheek to keep from smiling and risk whatever payback that might earn him.
As soon as they rounded the next curve, he braked, stopping the truck so quickly it rocked on its springs.
She grabbed the front of the passenger seat to keep from face-planting against it. “What’s the problem now?”
“Phone.” He had his in one hand and held his other hand out toward her. “Hurry.”
“I don’t understand. Why do you need—”
“Sierra, I’m trying to save your life. And mine. Please, give me your phone.”
She reluctantly handed it to him.
He hurled both phones out the window toward the ravine on the far side of the road.
“Dang it, Beau. Was that really necessary?”
“No electronic trail, remember? Hang on.”
She clutched the front of the passenger seat again as he slammed the gas pedal. He spun the wheel, sending the truck racing toward the other side of the road, the one where the forest marched up the mountain toward the sky.
“Hold on,” he warned again. “Another sharp turn coming.”
“Let me guess. You learned to drive watching those ridiculous Fast and Furious movies,” she snapped.
He laughed and spun the wheel again, earning a few more swear words as the truck did a one-eighty and stopped on the shoulder of the road.
“Good grief,” she muttered. “Tell me when I can open my eyes.”
“Definitely not yet.” He grinned and jammed the accelerator, skidding off the shoulder into a narrow rock-strewn area behind some boulders.
If someone else drove down the road, it would be nearly impossible for them to realize there was a cut-through back there.
Even though he’d known it was here, it had been hard for him to find it.
It was overgrown, by design. Little more than a path through the trees and barely wide enough for his truck to maneuver.
Branches brushed the sides, making him wince at the sound of them scraping against metal, scratching the paint.
Of course, that was nothing compared to the bullet holes and busted-out windshield.
He was lucky the radiator hadn’t been hit, or they’d have been stranded.
Once he couldn’t see the road through the trees and bushes anymore, he pulled to a stop, and waited.
“Beau, what are we—”
“Sh,” he whispered.
Her eyes flew open. Then she squeezed them shut again.
A full minute passed. Then the roar of a car rushing past them came from the road below.
As soon as the sound of the engine began to fade in the distance, he sent his truck forward again, racing up the mountain.
He rounded a switchback, then another, weaving back and forth heading higher and higher.
He risked a quick glance at Sierra to make sure she was okay. Her eyes were open wide now, and she was hanging onto both the front of the seat and the armrest on the door, her knuckles whitening because she was gripping so hard.
“What’s going on?” Her voice was thick with a mixture of anger and fear. “What’s happening? Why are all of those men after us? Did the injured man, Randy, did he die? Beau, please. Tell me something, anything.”
Guilt rode him hard at the sound of the fear in her voice, the near desperation in her beautiful dark brown eyes. “I promise I’ll explain soon. You can sit in the seat now. You’re safe.”
She struggled against the weight of the Kevlar vest to climb out of the footwell.
He grabbed it and tossed it behind him. She crawled onto her seat and fastened her seat belt before lifting her head to look through the gaping hole where the windshield had once been.
She gasped and pressed a hand to her throat.
“Safe? We’re going straight up a mountain.”
He chuckled. “It’s not that bad. My truck couldn’t make it up a grade that steep. That’s why this road weaves back and forth, to give us a more gradual slope to climb.”
“This isn’t a road, it’s a path for mountain goats.” She let out a startled squeak as a small tree branch whipped through the hole, nearly hitting her.
“Good grief.” She brushed leaves and twigs off her arms. “Assuming we don’t end up falling off this mountain and we actually make it to wherever you’re heading, where is that exactly? Where are we going?”
“Where I was hoping we wouldn’t have to. Plan B.”