Microsoft Word - DeadHeat_wrp356.doc (29 page)

Dani nodded, sympathy simmering in her eyes. “I

thought so. You're beating a dead horse.”

Panic knotted inside Rye. “Meaning?”

Dani shrugged and held the folded blanket against

her chest. “She's determined to take Rising Sun to Santa

Anita. I've known Jenna for a long time. Once she makes

up her mind, not even a bulldozer can move her.”

Was Dani right? Had he waited too long? Shit. Why

hadn't he spilled his guts when he held her warm body

against him on the dance floor?
Because you're an

arrogant asshole.

“I talked to Jenna about you earlier this evening, but

she brushed me off. Refused to listen.”

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Shut up Dani
. Every word out of the woman's mouth

gnawed at his confidence like a beaver chewing through a

tree. A tense silence filled the room.

With difficulty, Rye pushed regrets of what he should

have done aside. Finding Jenna before the maniac carried

through with his threat to kill her was paramount. And

here he sat with his thumbs up his ass because he didn't

have a clue where to start.

He'd go find Brett and demand he get the show on

the road. When he reached the door, instead of opening it,

he made a fist and punched the wood.

“I'll be in my room if you need me.” Dani hurried

away, obviously anxious to escape his presence. Not that

he blamed her.

The flecks of blood oozing from his knuckles gave him

fleeting satisfaction. The physical pain did nothing to ease

his emotional suffering.

The door opened, banging against the wall. Brett

burst into the room, fire in his eyes.

“We've tracked the phone to an isolated region about

two hours north. Maps show some old hunting cabins in

the immediate area.”

A spark of hope sputtered in Rye's heart.

He ignored Dani when she rushed from the bedroom.

“How soon can we get to her? What are we waiting

for? Let's go.”

Brett's mouth tightened. “Sorry, Rye. You're not

going anywhere.” He spoke as a man in charge.

Rye took two steps and stood toe to toe with his

brother. “Fuck you. I either ride with you, or I follow you.

Your choice.”

The room grew quiet. Two pair of identical blue eyes

locked, filling the air with tension.

Dani pushed between them. “No fighting in my

home.”

Brett relaxed and broke eye contact. “Feelin' bullet

proof, are you, little brother? Just stay out of my way. If

you interfere, I swear to God, I'll shoot you myself.”

Rye grinned. “Let's roll.”

Dani laid fingers on Brett's arm. “You'll keep in touch

with me? Let me know what's going on?”

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Rye glanced at Dani's fingers gripping Brett. His

brother glowered at the concerned woman.

“As soon as we find Jenna, you'll be the first to

know,” Rye said. “Promise.”

“Thank you, Rye. Good luck.”

****

trunk, facing her captor. Her fingernails bit into her

palms. She tempered her desire to dig them into his

hateful eyes. “Is this the surprise you've been promising

me?” The wiry framed man stepped back a few feet. “Get

out.” She couldn't see a weapon in his hands. Determined

not to go to her slaughter a willing victim, she hunkered

down in the close confines, bringing her feet up under her

butt. She deliberately wobbled and placed her hands on

the floor of the trunk as if for support. Like the release of

a tightly coiled spring, she pushed off with her hands and

feet and launched her cramped body at Casey Jones.

He staggered backwards under her weight. She went

for his eyes. Before her fingers reached their target, he

regained his balance and grabbed her around the throat,

pressing his thumbs into her windpipe. “You fuckin'

bitch.”

Casey's small frame was deceptive. He had the

strength of a bull. Jenna's breath came in short gasps.

Shards of light danced in front of her eyes.

When darkness threatened to enfold her, the

pressure on her throat eased. She took deep ragged

breaths. As soon as her good eye could focus on her target,

she started for him again. Casey raised his hand and

slapped her across the face. She tottered back a few steps,

bumping against the back of the car. Blood filled her

mouth. With the back of her hand, she wiped it away and

fought the dizziness spinning in her head.

She faced the hatred blazing in Casey's eyes with

defiance. “Does beating on a woman make you feel like a

big man?” she challenged, refusing to give this criminal

the satisfaction of seeing her fear.

“Shut up, bitch.”

Jenna stood as tall as her stiff body allowed and

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squared her shoulders. “Think I'll cower and grovel at

your feet, begging for my life? Think again. I'll see you in

hell first.”

Hard and fast his fist came at her, connecting with

her already swollen jaw. A roaring filled her ears. Jenna

spiraled down like a swimmer caught in an undertow and

slid to the ground.

In her semi-conscious state, she thought she heard

Rye's soft voice. “I'm coming, baby. Just hang on.”

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Dead Heat

“Can't you drive any faster, for Christ's sake?” Rye

snapped, leaning forward in the seat.

“I brought you against my better judgment,” Brett

barked. “Don't make me regret it. I'll throw you the fuck

out on your ass, right here in the middle of nowhere.”

Rye muttered under his breath, clamped his mouth

shut and stared straight ahead. He wanted to scream at

the injustice.

Dawn was imminent. Gray clouds hanging low in the

sky prevented the sun from making an appearance. The

gloomy weather matched the mood inside the car.

“Instead of sitting there grinding your teeth like a

rodent, make yourself useful. Look at the map and figure

out how many cabins are in the area so we can begin to

eliminate them. I should be getting word on a more exact

location...” Brett's cell rang. “Talk to me.” The cell,

plugged into the dash was hands-free. Brett pushed the

speaker button.

The map slipped to the floor, forgotten, as Rye

listened.

“Casey Jones is your man.”

Brett pressed the caller. “Evidence?”

“How about the five books on anagrams we found

under his bed? If that ain't enough to incriminate him,

would a stash of Ketamine and hypodermic needles do it?”

“Jesus,” Brett breathed. “Find any clues why he's

after Jenna Green?”

“Nada.”

Rye tuned out the conversation. His nerves throbbed

like a toothache. He'd hired the bastard who had Jenna.

He'd played right into the kid's hands.

Face the facts, Cameron. Chances of finding Jenna

alive seemed slim to none.

Despair engulfed him as memories swirled in his

mind. Jenna's sleepy smiles after they'd made love. Gray

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eyes flashing anger when he pissed her off—which was

way too often. Jenna jumping up and down with the

enthusiasm of a child the day Rising Sun had careened

down the track.

“Rye? You still with me?”

Rye stopped reminiscing. “Yeah. I heard. Casey has

her.” “Looks that way.”

“Any idea why he's out for Jenna?”

“I have a theory. Who knows if I'm right? I'm

guessing he's her half-brother. It's the only thing that

makes sense.”

“That's got to be it,” Rye answered, remembering the

letter he and Jenna had found. God, was Casey sick

enough to kill his own sister?

Rye asked the dreaded question. “Think she's already

dead?”

Brett's hesitation told Rye more than he wanted to

know. “I won't lie to you. It's possible. Then again,

psychopaths often play with their prey before the kill.”

Rye winced. “You've got such a fucking way with

words.”

“Now you know why I didn't want you here. Take

some advice and stop riding yourself so hard. None of this

happened because of something you did or didn't do.”

“Easy for you to say, Brett. You aren't in love with

her.” The cell phone rang a second time. “Hello?” Brett

barked.

“Coordinates for your destination. Got the GPS?”

Brett snatched it from the seat. “Right in my hand.”

Rye shook his head. The conversation boggled his

mind. ‘Technologically challenged’ best described him.

They might as well be speaking Chinese. He couldn't

comprehend all that GPS tracking shit. Never had any

use for it, although he thanked God and engineers at this

moment for the technology leading them to Jenna.

“We'll be there in thirty minutes or less,” Brett said.

Shades of pink finally shone through the gray clouds

on the horizon. Jenna would have oohed over the beauty

of it. Now she was in Casey's clutches and had been for

several hours.

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Dead Heat

“She's one tough lady.”

“What?”

“Your Jenna. I'd wager my money on her any day. I

know you're worried, little brother, but she won't go down

without a fight.”

Brett was right. Thoughts of losing her made him

forget how resourceful she was.

****

a cellar that had flooded more than once. She kept her

eyes closed and maintained an easy, steady breathing

pattern. The longer Casey believed her to be unconscious,

the more time she had to come up with a plan.

“I know you're awake.”

She opened her eye. The left one remained sealed

shut. For an instant, she worried her the damage to her

eye might be result in permanent blindness. She stifled a

hysterical giggle. What did it matter? Casey planned to

kill her anyway.

You'll get the surprise of your life before I kill you.

That remembered taunt gave her hope. He had yet to

give her a surprise. Unless his surprise had been her

waking up in the trunk. If that were the case...

A boot kicked her ribcage. Not too hard, but hard

enough that her instinct to survive took command. A

cracked rib or two would greatly diminish any chance of

escape. She leaned on her elbow for leverage and sat up,

resting her back against a wall made of rough lumber.

God only knew what crawled around in these dank walls.

Just the thought of it made her shudder.

“That's better,” he crooned. “Are you ready for your

big surprise?”

A calm resignation settled over her. This was it. She

refused to beg and grovel. “Sure. Bring it on. I love

surprises.”

Casey scowled. “We'll see how cocky you are when

the hypodermic needle comes your way.”

Jenna kept her face impassive. No way, no how

would she give this monster the satisfaction of seeing her

fear. Casey began to rant. “All I heard most of my life was

Jenna this, Jenna that
. I got so fucking sick of hearing

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your name.”

Now he had her attention. What was he talking

about? “You've lost me, Casey.”

“You're not too bright. Guess I got all the brains in

the family.”

Jenna's head reeled. Family? Was Casey saying he

was her half-brother? Wouldn't she have sensed it? Felt a

bond? Physical pain took a back seat. “You’re my

brother?”

He yanked a chair away from a wobbly, wooden table

and straddled it, leaning his arms on the back. “Hilarious,

huh?” A malicious smile spread across his face.

“Do you want me dead because I'm your sister or

because the mob wants me dead?”

He bristled. “I've been working for the mob off and on

since I was thirteen. I don't take orders from nobody.”

Jenna's mind raced. “Laura, our mother, wrote a

letter to my father, telling him that your life was in

danger if he didn't fix a race.”

“She wrote what I told her to write,” he bragged. “The

mob thought they were using me.” A maniacal laugh

rippled out of his mouth. “I used them to get to you.”

Jenna shivered. The throbbing in her head made it

difficult to follow his logic. One fact was sure. Her brother

was insane.

“No one double crosses the mob, Casey. They'd have

killed you long ago.”

His brows rose. “Did I say I double-crossed them? Did

you ever hear of a train bound for Memphis, but it ends

up in Baton Rouge? That’s what happens when someone

pulls the switch and changes tracks.”

“I don't understand.”

“Man. You are dense. Charles Kincaid started the

ball rolling. The boss paid him to buy two horses at the

Keeneland sale. The mob wanted Tsunami. The idiot got

outbid by Cameron. The other one he bought, he gave to

you. The boss wanted me to take Kincaid out then. I took

one look at the awkward colt in your barn, and I saw an

opportunity to make a bundle. The boss loved my idea.”

“Idea?” she asked. “What idea?”

“To find a horse that looked like Rising Sun. One that