Chapter Thirty-One
Beau groaned at the sound determined to intrude on the slow, deep kiss he was enjoying. It was late, around midnight. Lying beneath him, Cassidy slid her arms around his neck and opened her warm body in invitation as he pressed her down in the mattress. His heavy erection nestled between her legs, the anticipation nearly as good as being inside her.
He was breathing raggedly and so was she, both of them fast-tracking toward the pleasure just out of reach and the sleep afterward they both so desperately needed.
She laced her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, and a fresh rush of heat slid through him. Her skin felt smooth and warm as his mouth traveled over her shoulder to feast on a delectable breast.
When the ringing intruded again, Beau swore and lifted himself away, sat up in bed and grabbed his cell phone off the nightstand. No way could he ignore it, not with the trouble swirling around them. Leaning down, he pressed a last kiss on Cassidy’s warm lips.
“We aren’t finished,” he said softly, though for the moment, clearly they were. He looked down at the caller ID, recognized the number, and every muscle in his body went tense. “Missy, what’s going on? What’s wrong?”
Missy started crying. “There’s a man here, Beau. He’s . . . he’s got this ski mask over his head and he’s got a gun. He says you . . . you owe him money.”
Someone jerked the phone out of Missy’s hand. “That’s right, Reese. Your girlfriend was supposed to be dead in the middle of the street by now. She cost me fifteen thousand dollars and a world of trouble. I know who you are. I know you’re filthy rich. Fifteen thousand’s nothing to you, so now I want a million, and you’re gonna bring it to me personally.”
Anger and fear had him shaking. Beau’s hand tightened around his cell. “You listen to me and you better listen good. Anything happens to Missy or the baby, you’re a dead man. You hear me?”
“You’re the one who should be listening. I need a ride out of the country. I’m on my way to ol’ Mehico and you’re gonna bring me the money to get there in that fancy helicopter of yours. If you don’t, the girl and the kid are dead. Now keep your mouth shut and do what I say. And no police—you got that?”
Beau forced himself under control. “Yeah, I’ve got it.” He needed to stay calm, think of Missy and Evie. He wondered where Josie was. It was just after midnight. He figured she could still be working, prayed she wouldn’t go home and make things worse.
He pulled a deep breath into his lungs. “It’ll take me a couple of hours to get the money together, get the chopper, and get there.”
“You got ninety minutes.” The phone went dead and Beau cursed.
He felt Cassidy’s hand on his shoulder. “Beau, what is it? What’s going on?”
The breath he’d been holding shuddered out. “The guy who tried to kill you? He’s got Missy and Evie. He wants a million bucks and a chopper.”
“Oh, God.”
“I’ve got to go.” He rolled off the bed, strode over and grabbed his jeans, dragged them on and snagged a clean long-sleeved T-shirt. Behind him, he heard Cassidy run out the bedroom door and down the hall. By the time he’d finished dressing and started making calls, the first to his banker, Cassidy was rushing back into the room in jeans and a red plaid flannel shirt.
“I’m going with you.”
“Not a good idea. You’ll be safer here.”
“I’m going. Missy and Evie might need me, Beau. Or Josie. Is Josie in the house, too?”
“I don’t know. He didn’t mention her.” He started striding down the hall toward the garage and Cassidy fell in beside him.
“We need to call the café,” she said, which he would have already done if he had been thinking more clearly. “We need to find out if Josie’s still at work. If she is, we can’t let her walk into the middle of this thing.”
He glanced at Cassidy over his shoulder. “You’re right. Can you call and find out?”
“Of course. You need me, Beau. Let me help you.”
He swallowed. He always seemed to need her. He didn’t like putting her in the middle of a bad situation, but at the moment, he had no choice. “All right, let’s go.”
* * *
Cassidy sat tensely in the Ferrari next to Beau. Tires squealing, he shot out of the garage, driving like a madman down the pavement toward the street, pausing only for a moment to speak to one of the guards, then taking Will Egan’s frantic phone call when he learned Beau was leaving without Frank Marino.
“Don’t worry, Marino’s meeting us at the chopper,” he informed Will over the speaker. They could make better time in the Ferrari and there wasn’t room for Frank in the sports car. He explained the situation and ended with, “We’ll figure things out as we go.”
“You sure you won’t need backup when you get there?”
“I don’t want to set this guy off,” Beau said. “As soon as he releases the hostages, I’ll call the police.”
“He could force them to go with him, Beau. He could shoot your helo pilot. Anything could happen.”
Cassidy had run through the various scenarios with Beau as they had prepared to leave, including the ones Will mentioned.
“The guy isn’t getting on the chopper,” Beau said. “I won’t let that happen. I just need to get him away from the girl and the baby.”
Then they could deal with the hostage taker, the guy who had tried to kill Cassidy twice before.
“You realize this might just be a diversion to bring you out in the open,” Will said. “Somewhere an assassin can get at you.”
“We’ll be ready if that’s the case.”
Cassidy’s hand went to her waist. The little .380 in the holster clipped to her belt felt comforting. Cassidy was a good shot, and since Beau was good at just about everything, she figured he was more than competent with the Glock he was carrying.
She thought of what Will had said, that this could be a diversion to get them out in the open, but Cassidy had a feeling that wasn’t what was going on. The guy who had tried to kill her wasn’t a professional hit man. If he had been, she would be dead.
“Be careful,” Will said.
“Count on it.” Beau hung up the phone. They needed to get to the roof of the Tex/Am building, get on the chopper, and get to Pleasant Hill. But first they needed to pick up the money.
On the way, Cassidy phoned the café. It rang four times before the call was answered.
“Pleasant Hill Café,” Josie’s familiar voice said. “I’m sorry, we’re closed.”
Cassidy felt a wave of relief that the woman wasn’t trapped in the house with a killer. “Josie, this is Cassidy Jones. Beau and I are on our way to Pleasant Hill. A problem’s come up. We need you to wait for us in the café.”
“What? We’re closed. I’m just leaving for home.”
“You can’t leave, Josie. Beau will explain everything when we get there.”
“Oh, God, something’s wrong. What is it? What’s going on?”
Cassidy glanced over at Beau, who was gripping the wheel as if he might tear it off the steering column, forcing himself to keep the Ferrari at a speed just above the limit. They couldn’t afford to be stopped for a ticket.
“We need to talk in person,” Cassidy said. “Promise me you won’t leave the café until we get there.”
“Oh, Lord Almighty—has something happened to my babies? What is it? Please, you have to tell me.”
Cassidy’s chest went tight. She didn’t want to tell the woman the two people she loved most in the world were in danger, but whatever Josie was imagining might be worse than the truth.
“They’re okay, Josie. There’s a man in the house with them. He hasn’t hurt them. He just wants money. Beau is bringing it. As soon as he gets it, the man will let Missy and Evie go.”
Josie sobbed into the phone.
“We’re coming, Josie. In the helicopter. It won’t take us long to get there. Just stay calm and everything will be okay. You hear me?”
“My girls. My sweet babies.”
“Josie, listen to me. Beau’s going to take care of everything. He won’t let anyone hurt them. You know that, right? He loves them. You just stay there. And whatever you do, don’t call the police.”
Josie whimpered.
“Promise me, Josie.”
“I’ll stay here. I won’t call the cops or nobody else.”
“Good, that’s good. We’ll see you soon.” Cassidy ended the call, wiping her eyes with the tail of her flannel shirt. When she looked at Beau, his jaw was locked tight.
“She’s okay for now,” Cassidy said. “We just need to pick up the money and get there.”
Beau sliced her a look. “There’s a chance the money won’t be enough. No way to know with a guy like that.”
“Missy said he was wearing a ski mask. That means he doesn’t want to be recognized. He wouldn’t care about that if he was planning to kill them.”
Beau’s iron grip on his jaw eased a little. “You’re right. We just need to get there.” But he didn’t sound completely convinced.
The money was waiting when he pulled the Ferrari up in front of the Dallas State Bank. The manager, sleepy-eyed and disconcerted, was there to personally hand over the heavy black canvas bag.
“This is highly unusual, Beau. Some of the bills are larger than you wanted. We didn’t have much time. Is everything okay?” The bald, officious-looking manager shifted nervously from side to side.
“It will be. Thanks for handling this, Jim. I knew I could count on you. I’d appreciate your discretion.”
“No problem. You know you can rely on Dallas State, Beau.”
Beau grabbed the bag, popped the trunk, which was small but big enough to hold the bag of money, jumped back in the car, and they shot off down the street. The chopper was sitting on the roof when they reached the top floor of the Tex/Am building.
The elevator door slid open and Cassidy spotted Frank Marino, red hair glinting in the lights around the helipad. The rotors spun gently as Frank ran over to help her climb in. Beau tossed the bag of money into the chopper and followed. Frank climbed in behind them and slid closed the door.
“You sure you’re ready for this?” Frank asked as they strapped themselves into their seats. “Like I said, might be smarter to bring in the police.” Frank, a former police officer, had wanted to call in the authorities, but until they knew more, Beau refused to take the chance.
“No police,” he said as he had before. “Not until we’re sure they’re safe.” The roar of the engine and the whir of the rotors ended the conversation. They put on their headsets, but there wasn’t much more to say.
Cassidy looked at Beau and her heart went out to him. Beau had adopted Missy and Evie as part of his family. Aside from Linc and Carly, they were all he had. Beau felt responsible for what was happening to them, though it wasn’t really his fault. All he’d wanted was justice for his father. But Beau didn’t see it that way.
The eighty-mile, twenty-five-minute flight was the longest of Cassidy’s life, even with the chopper zooming at a hundred and seventy miles an hour over the darkened landscape. The blur of city lights faded to occasional pin-dots below as they traveled farther and farther into the rural countryside.
At Beau’s instruction, the pilot headed straight for the park across the street from the house on Shady Lane. The bad news was, when they got there, the outside of the house was lit up like a giant summer carnival. Red and blue lights flashing, half a dozen patrol cars were parked at various angles in the street around the house, uniformed officers crouched next to their vehicles.
Beau swore softly. Marino made a hissing sound between his teeth. And Cassidy flat-out cursed.
Adrenaline pumped into Beau’s veins, speeding up his heart rate. The last thing he wanted was for the guy in the house to panic. Crossing the grass toward the residence, he walked next to Cassidy while Frank covered from behind. He had just reached the opposite side of the road when a small group of uniformed officers stepped out of the shadows, blocking his way.
Beau recognized police chief Eric Warren, his solid jaw tight, clearly all business. Detective Tom Briscoe stood next to him, looking more worried than Beau had ever seen him.
“We’ve got a situation here, Beau,” the chief said. “Which apparently you’re aware of or you wouldn’t be here.”
“Are the girls all right? Missy and the baby?”
“Far as we know. The guy in there—he won’t talk to anyone but you. Told us he was waiting for you. Said you’d be here any minute.”
“How’d you know what was going on?”
“Neighbor saw a man wearing a ski mask through one of the windows and called 9-1-1. Neighbor said there was a woman and a baby in the house. We checked, found out Missy Kessler and her daughter had just moved in.”
Beau looked over at the house. All the shades were drawn, and only a single lamp cast dim light into the living room.
“We’re bringing in a hostage negotiator from Dallas,” Chief Warren said. “Might be a while before he gets here.”
“We don’t need a hostage negotiator. I’ve got the money he wants. I’ll talk to him, see if I can convince him to come out and get it.”
“You’re a civilian, Beau. You need to let us handle this.”
Beau shook his head. “No way. I want those girls safe. I’ll do whatever I have to in order to make that happen.”
“Take it easy, okay? We all want the same thing here.” The chief surveyed his men. “We’re a little shorthanded. We’ve got some kind of stomach bug going around. County sheriff handles SWAT. They’re putting a team together now. Might take a while.”
“Jesus. The sheriff handles SWAT? Howler’s in charge?”
“Look, Beau, I know you and Sheriff Howler have some bad history, but SWAT falls under his jurisdiction. Like I said, we’re all shorthanded, so I don’t know how many men he can muster.”
The last thing they needed were more men. Beau couldn’t begin to imagine what was going on inside the house. And once Sheriff Howler arrived, he’d be in charge. Emmett Howler was the man who had arrested Beau the night he, Linc, and Kyle Howler, the sheriff’s son, had tried to rob that convenience store. Even though it had been Kyle’s idea, Howler still carried a grudge against Beau and Linc.
His stomach knotted. This was turning into a giant clusterfuck and Missy and Evie were going to be the ones to pay.
A feminine hand settled on his shoulder. He looked at Cassidy and the strength and resolve he saw in her pretty green eyes steadied him.
“They’re going to be okay, Beau. We won’t let anything happen to them.”
He swallowed and nodded. He’d find a way to get them out of there. He had to.
“Is that bulge beneath your jacket what I think it is?” the chief asked.
“We’re both armed, both permitted.” In his case, carrying was probably not a good idea at the moment, seeing as he was currently under suspicion of murder. But the chief didn’t press the issue.
Beau’s phone rang. He dug it out of his jeans and looked at the screen. It was Missy’s cell number. “It’s him.” Warren moved closer and Beau held the phone so the chief could listen.
“I’m here,” Beau said. “Just landed in the park across the street.”
“I thought I told you no cops.”
“I didn’t call them. One of the neighbors spotted you through the window and dialed 9-1-1.”
“You got the money?”
“I’ve got it. Let Missy take the baby and leave, and you can have it.”
A harsh laugh came over the line. “Yeah, like I’m gonna do that. What, you think I’m an idiot?”
Beau took a calming breath.
“Ask him his name,” the chief quietly suggested.
“Who are you? What’s your name?”
“None of your business. The money in the chopper?”
“Yes, it’s waiting for you there. So what do you want me to call you?”
“I guess it don’t matter. Since we’re gonna be such good friends, you can call me Franco.”
“All right, then, Franco.”
“Leave the money where it is. We’re getting ready to come out. I’m bringing the girl and the kid with me. Tell the pilot to get the chopper ready to go. Anybody tries to interfere, I shoot the girl.”
The phone went dead and the knot in Beau’s stomach tightened to the point of pain.