Texas Takedown. Barb Han
course. The police said it was most likely an attempted robbery. At first I thought the whole incident was random, too. When I told my father, he started freaking out. Made me promise not to leave my condo. Begged me not to get the police or anyone else involved. Said he’d make everything right. Told me to give him a little time and that he’d done a bad thing. I didn’t know what to think or do. I panicked. Took a few vacation days and didn’t leave my condo. Then the phone calls started. Someone saying he was the real Thomas Kramer said he wanted to meet. Said he had something of mine. He said if I involved the police, he’d kill me and my father. I stopped answering. When a stranger knocked on my door, I panicked again. I gathered a few of my things, waited for the guy to leave and then took off.”
“Sounds as if someone is hiding behind Kramer’s name. There’s a cell phone in my duffel. I need you to take it out,” he said.
“Please, no. Don’t call the police.”
“I won’t. Not until we figure this out.”
“Not ‘we.’ I need to lie low until I find a way to reach my father.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Samantha.”
“You can’t be here.”
“Why not? Whoever is doing this can’t hurt you or me. We’ll get to the bottom of it. I’m not leaving until we figure this out. I need to make a call to arrange a place for us to stay. Will you get me the phone?”
She blew out a sharp breath but didn’t immediately move.
“I’m your only chance, Samantha. You need to decide.”
“Okay. Fine. Where is it? Here?” She pointed to one of four zippers on the front of the pack.
“Inside the main compartment.” He didn’t take his eyes off the road. She’d find other things in there, too. Another gun. A hand grenade. Things she could use against him if she completely freaked.
“I found it.” Her delicate skin had gone pale. She looked exhausted.
“Look in the contacts for Brody.”
“Got him.”
A helicopter flew overhead.
Dylan glanced over at Samantha in time to see her hand shaking.
She drew in a breath.
“Call Brody and put this on speaker.” Dylan searched his rearview. So far, no one had followed them. He banked a U-turn.
“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