Chapter Thirteen
Amaryllis looked around her rented room in the B&B. She was lost, out of sorts, feeling like a weary traveler for the first time… well, ever.
Being at Eagle Crest had reminded her how it felt to be connected to something, part of a bigger whole. That feeling of loss had probably driven her to apply for the loan to buy the small farm weeks ago. But even if she got it, some of the most beautiful, rich land she’d ever seen, she’d be alone on it.
She tidied up the space, throwing all her laundry into a net bag. Today needed to be a laundry day, and she was almost looking forward to a mundane task. Since arriving in Crossroads, she practically hadn’t sat down.
This case was definitely one of the biggest ones she’d ever dealt with. The people involved seemed to number in the range of a dozen. Cattle were stolen, taken to auctions in other counties, and hell, probably across state lines. Or they were being butchered for the cash. She turned these ideas over and over in her head and tried to attach the crimes to the names they knew and of those they’d arrested.
After she had her room organized and the bag of laundry ready, she headed out. It was the Lord’s day and she hoped a small town like Crossroads had a coin laundry open on Sunday. She supposed she could ask the B&B owner to use the facility’s machines, but she needed to get out for a while.
She opened the monster truck door and tossed the laundry up and in. As she settled behind the wheel, she giggled to think of Aiden’s view on her driving this truck. She had a feeling if she drove up to his place and asked him to test-drive the bed, he’d leap in and like the roominess well enough.
Maybe she’d do just that. He seemed to prefer sex in a bed where he could control the environment right down to how much noise she made. But a romp in an unexpected place always made for a fun time.
The truck alerted her that she was low on fuel, so she headed toward the main strip of Crossroads and the mini-mart. Seeing the storefront made her think of flirting with Aiden over a chili dog.
Damn, she was worse off than she thought.
Aiden consumed her mind and ruled her body. It wasn’t a good idea to let herself fall for him—she was going back to Texas after they made their arrests.
And it could be too late. She didn’t want to leave Aiden, and surely that meant emotions were stirred up.
She pulled up to a diesel pump, cut the engine and then hopped out. A couple other cars were getting gas and someone was parked next to the building, probably grabbing one of those chili dogs.
As she reached high to connect the pump with the diesel tank opening, her mind roamed back to Aiden. Of seeing him with his family, smiling and carefree. At least when he wasn’t posturing over Wes looking her direction. Luckily, Wes hadn’t pushed and Aiden had gone back to his easier self after dinner.
There didn’t seem to be any tension or hard feelings, and she was relieved. She didn’t want to be the cause of a family argument.
She glanced up from the numbers flicking by on the pump screen, catching sight of a familiar back. She peered harder as the cowboy turned. That profile, the sharp nose and the way he wore his hat dipped low…
She ripped the nozzle from the truck and shoved the gas cap on. Striding across the parking lot fast to reach the guy before he jumped in the car and she lost sight of him.
Billy Owens.
“Hey! Can I talk to you for a second?” she called.
He shot her a glance, recognition spreading across his face rapid-fire. He yanked open the door of his car and leaped in. She didn’t wait to see if he stopped—he wasn’t going to.
She ran to her truck and had it on the road, speeding after him down the highway. She had their guy, the man who was probably responsible for most of the thefts and killings around here, heading the operation.
She thought of her cell phone in her back pocket and calling Aiden or the sheriff’s office, but Sundays were lazy, and she didn’t know if the secretary would even be there to answer a call.
Just then Owens made a wild right turn onto a gravel road that sent his car fishtailing. Amaryllis didn’t hesitate. She knew how to drive big trucks and back roads were her Indy 500 track. She stomped on the gas. He didn’t slow, just zoomed on in a cloud of dust.
She was higher than most of the dust Owens’ car put off, luckily. If she could get close enough, she could pass and then use her truck as a blockade.
Her sidearm was in her handbag on the floor of the passenger’s seat. Out of reach. She hoped she wouldn’t need it. Going out to do laundry on a Sunday afternoon, she hadn’t thought she needed to strap it to her thigh.
Her phone buzzed on her ass, and she lifted one cheek to pull it free. Her truck hit a patch of loose gravel and she spent a second biting her lip and skidding through it before she answered.
“Long.”
“Amaryllis. What the fuck is going on? I just got a call from the mini-mart that they had a pump and run. Description of the truck matches that damn monster truck of yours Another call just came in about a truck speeding through a slow zone at a high speed.”
“Aiden, don’t give me any crap, okay? Yeah, it’s me. I’ve got Owens in my sights and he’s trying to race away.”
A beat of silence had her wondering what the hell Aiden was thinking and not saying. The telling off she’d get would have to wait.
“Can’t talk—I gotta stay alert.”
“Don’t hang up! What’re your coordinates?”
She cast a wild look around the sides of the roads. Not a sign in sight. She didn’t know these parts, and that was probably what Owens was counting on. He raced ahead of her, zigzagging as he took another turn at a high speed.
“We seem to be winding through the mountains. Twisty road, gravel. Headed west.”
* * * * *
Aiden’s blood ran cold. He stared at Latchaw.
Amaryllis was out there involved in a high-speed chase on one of the more treacherous roads leading out of Crossroads. He was too far away to give any help, and there was no way he’d catch them.
Latchaw stared back. The two of them had been having coffee in Delaney’s when Latchaw had gotten a call about another ranch broken into, some farm implements stolen. On the heels of that was the call from the mini-mart and the speeding complaint.
Fuck, Amaryllis.
Could she even handle that monster truck on those roads?
He ripped off his hat and shoved his fingers through his hair.
“Let’s get a read on her phone, find out her location.” Latchaw grabbed his cell, nearly knocking over his coffee. They both stood and started outside.
On the way past the cash register, Aiden said, “We’ll catch up the bill later.” The waitress nodded and they left.
Aiden’s chest burned with the need to bellow his frustrations into the sky. And if he was honest, his fears too. He was damned scared. Amaryllis was a live wire when on the job—she didn’t think of consequences or anything but getting the criminal.
What risks would she take?
“Got her. Thank God for technology.” Latchaw stabbed his phone screen.
Aiden’s cell rang, and he snapped it up. Waiting for Amaryllis’s sultry tones and hearing his twin brother’s confused the hell out of him. “What?” he barked.
“Got a call from a guy who was run off the road by a big truck chasing a car on Mountainside. I’m about ten miles out. I’m going to engage.”
Aiden’s heart throbbed hard against his chest wall. He looked to Latchaw. “She’s ten miles from Judd. He can intercept, but I can get there faster.”
He took off for his truck while his brother’s voice projected through his cell. He ended the call and leaped behind the wheel.
“Roshannon! You’re fifteen miles away. Judd’s closer!”
He glanced at the sheriff. “I can get there faster.” He backed out like the hounds of hell were on his tail. Screeching out of the parking lot and tearing down the road. Amaryllis may be on the back road, but Aiden knew a cut off. It was bumpier, and he’d be lucky not to pop a tire. But that was the chance he had to take.
What the hell was the woman thinking to chase down Owens without backup? Never does anything by the book. Her stubborn little ass deserves my whip.
He passed the head of Mountainside, the road that twisted and turned its way around the mountain like a serpent lying under a rock. He spotted the thrown gravel and the tire tracks of Amaryllis’s truck. With a shake of his head, he put boot to pedal and sped past the road. A few miles away was a cutoff known as Devil’s Bend. In winter, you didn’t dare risk taking that road, but occasionally they’d rescue a stranded hunter there.
Aiden took it now at breakneck speeds. Flying around corners so sharp they would cut through a man with lesser constitution. Or a man who wasn’t terrified for the love of his life. If she managed not to wreck taking Mountainside at what—seventy miles per hour?—the only way to get Owens would be to face him down.
The man was cornered and he knew how to be slippery. All men in these parts were armed.
Damn. Aiden reminded himself it was Sunday but Amaryllis would still be packing heat too. The Lord said to rest, not be stupid.
He gripped the wheel tighter going into a turn that would turn most people’s stomachs. His pulse hadn’t pounded this hard since that day overlooking the compound he was given direct order to fire upon. He couldn’t pull the trigger on that operation, but he damn well wasn’t backing down from this fight. Amaryllis’s life could be at stake.
For a dizzying moment, he thought of ways this could end, even seeing the monster truck pitched off a ravine in a twisted, smoking mass of metal. He shook his head hard to clear it.
“Keep your shit together, Roshannon.” He grabbed his phone to dial Amaryllis and found it without signal. Taking his eyes off the road for precious seconds meant one of his tires landed in a deep crater. The truck bottomed out, and he grunted at the impact. He gunned it and braced himself as the back tire trailed through the same hole.
He didn’t hesitate to slam into the gas pedal again. His chest burned way more than it should. He’d only feel this sweat-drenching fear if one of his family members was in trouble—and that must mean Amaryllis meant a whole lot more to him.
He swallowed hard around the lump in his throat. He fucking loved her. There was no “falling for her.” It was a done deal—he’d taken the plunge, head first.
His phone vibrated that a bunch of missed calls were coming in now that he’d picked up service again. He didn’t look away from the road because now he was really in the thick of it. Switchbacks he couldn’t navigate fast enough. He had to get there, had to stop Owens before Amaryllis bit off more than she could chew alone.
When his phone rang, he stabbed a button and slapped it to his ear. “Amaryllis?”
“It’s me.” Judd. “I’m two miles out. If I had to guess, I’d say you’re navigating Devil’s Bend right now?”
“Yeah, little hard to talk. Driving this road’s like being a flea on a dog’s back while he shakes. But I’ll still get there before you do.”
“Competitive, aren’t we?”
“Judd, so help me, if I could punch you right now—”
“Cool it. We need a plan. Whoever gets there first is going to blockade the road. I’ve called for backup, and my closest deputy is five minutes behind me. I told him to step on it and join up.”
“What the hell’re you guys doing in my county anyway?”
“Had a bail jumper. We were helping out Wes.”
“Shit—Wes’ll be crossing our paths too?”
“Looks like. He’s three minutes away. Now they’ll be coming in hot. How well can Amaryllis handle herself?” Judd asked.
He thought of her maneuvering that big-ass truck into the small parking spot without a blink of trouble. “Very well.”
“So we don’t have to worry about her not being able to stop in time and plowing into us.”
He hoped to hell not, but road chases often ended in wrecks. He set his jaw. “We’ve got this, Judd. Can’t talk now. See you when I get there.”
* * * * *
Amaryllis felt high from the buzz of adrenaline running through her system. Her fingers tingled and her face felt hot. She’d had her gaze fixed on the taillights of the car in front of her for what felt like hours. She blinked away the graininess, clearing her vision.
The car swerved right and left. As if that old trick would throw her off. There couldn’t be another road leading from this gravelly path to hell, and Owens wasn’t going to break away.
She needed her weapon. If he made a sudden cut and run, trying to escape on foot, as most people did after being chased for a long time, she couldn’t take a minute to grab her 9mm from her handbag.
She cursed her lack of preparedness, but she had been headed to the coin laundry, where her only threat was dryer lint and someone else’s lost sock left in the corner.
Pushing a breath out through her nose, she gauged her speed. She’d hit seventy-eight a couple times on a straight stretch, and the truck had felt loose underneath her, like a single stone rolling a millimeter under her tire could send her careening off into the deep ravine. Who the hell decided this road didn’t need guardrails? Fucking Wyoming.
She grinned and wasn’t sure if she was losing her damn mind or just thinking of the straight-laced lawman who’d claimed her heart. Aiden was Wyoming to her, bigger than the state, larger than life. Every proud inch of the man excited her beyond reason and if that wasn’t telling, she didn’t know what was.
Without a doubt he was on her tail. She prayed he wouldn’t do anything stupid to catch up to her—this road couldn’t be navigated faster than she already was. And she thanked God for the big, meaty, aggressive treads on the monster truck’s tires. How Owens was staying on the road had to be pure will and dumb luck. The car fishtailed so often that her heart had stopped jumping when it happened, taking it as normal.
She had to end this soon. Surely there was a way to gain enough ground to run him off the road without killing him. There was a high bank on the left with a drop to the right. In places, she couldn’t see the bottom, and more often than not, the treetops were level with the truck. Again—who the hell didn’t put guardrails on a road like this?
Her phone rang. Dammit, if she took the call, she might miss an opportunity to gain on Owens.
It rang several more times before she couldn’t take it anymore and blindly stabbed at a button on her screen. “Long.”
“I know it’s you. Dammit, what the hell are you think—” Aiden’s angry tone flooded her ear. She abruptly cut off the call and dropped her phone in the cup holder.
Oh, she’d pay for that one later. He would not be happy with her hanging up on him.
So she’d let him whip her a little and make him feel in control again. By this time, she knew that was how he dealt with stressful situations and gained the upper hand in life. She was good with it—more than good. Aiden was a damn fine lover, and she never wanted to leave his bed, if she was honest.
The idea of sticking around Crossroads held an appeal. But what if the county couldn’t afford to keep her on? Or what if Aiden didn’t want her?
She shook off that personal train of thought and racked her brain for ways to end this fucking chase. Perspiration ran in rivulets down her spine and she didn’t even have a clean shirt to put on because they were all in the laundry bag.
“Think, Amaryllis.” Usually chases didn’t last long before the runner got too stressed and bailed. But Owens had a lot at stake. If he was heading this huge operation, and she believed he was, then he was looking at a big sentence. A lot of years behind bars. Cattle thieving was no slap on the wrist.
The taillights of Owens’ car swerved far to the right. She sucked in a gasp, seeing her moment. She stomped the gas and hit the same patch of gravel that had made him lose it. Only her tires were better and she had more determination.
Gaining precious ground as he lost it skidding on gravel, she used the pit maneuver that would bring this whole chase to an end. Using the front of her vehicle, she tapped the corner of his. Metal screeched over metal. She rocked forward at the impact. Owens’s front end whipped to the side and up the bank to wrap around a thick tree trunk clinging to the mountainside.
“Crap!” She braked before she rolled over the car. She did not want to kill the man, just stop him. The car came to a stop, and she lunged for her bag. Luckily, her hand landed on her 9mm and she didn’t need to upend her purse to find her weapon.
She yanked it out of her bag and threw open the door.
* * * * *
“Holy fuck.” Aiden came to the intersection and didn’t see any trace of the chase. No ruts in the gravel, not a breath of wind coming his way. They had to be wrecked on Mountainside.
He took the turn, gritting his teeth as gravel shifted. Damn Amaryllis. Behind him, he caught the whoop of a siren and glanced in the rearview mirror. Judd was on his tail with a deputy’s cruiser and Wes’s truck behind that.
Setting the example, he took off at a speed the devil himself couldn’t keep up to. But Judd stayed on his tail. Ahead was a curve and warning bells went off in his head. He hit the brakes, slowing slightly as he rounded the bend.
There they were. The red monster truck on all four wheels and a silver car with the front end wrapped around a tree on the bank.
Amaryllis stood there looking like an avenging angel, legs braced apart, her weapon trained on the car window.
Time slowed as Aiden seemed to take ages to reach them. His ears were ringing, and he was sure his blood pressure was over the roof. He spun gravel with his abrupt stop and barely registered the other car doors slamming as his brother, cousin and one of Judd’s deputies followed him.
All he could see was Amaryllis. She was alive, on her feet, her expression fierce.
“Get out of the car!” Her demand echoed through his bones, uniting his brain with his body again, and he launched forward to aim his weapon at the passenger window.
“Get out! Hands up!”
Amaryllis glanced over the car at him, and he felt his heart lift. He fucking loved her and no way was he losing her.
She also wasn’t getting away with this. Tonight he’d turn her over his knee—right after he kissed her senseless and held her until the shaking inside him stopped.