Against the Odds (20 page)

He jerked his pistol, heard Sabrina scream, “Alex!” saw her
jump on the first man as he tried to get back on his feet, spotted a third
man—lean, solid, do-rag tied around his head. The guy was moving fast, sprinting
toward her, the barrel of his semiauto aimed at her heart.

Swinging up his .45, Alex aimed and pulled the trigger, one,
two, three shots dead center to the middle of the third man’s chest, slamming
him backward, up against the side of a car, blood spreading over the gunman’s
faded black T-shirt as he went down hard on the pavement.

He didn’t get up.

The big Hispanic guy ducked another blow from Sabrina’s purse,
shoved her off him onto the asphalt and started running. The guy with the knife
ran after him and both men disappeared around the back of the store into the
darkness.

Forcing down the urge to follow, unwilling to leave Sabrina
unprotected in case one of them returned, Alex bit back a curse.

“Alex! Oh, my God, Alex!”

He lowered his weapon as she raced toward him, threw herself
into his arms. “Alex! Are you...are you all right?” She was shaking all over,
her petite frame trembling against him. One of the straps was torn off her
pretty yellow sundress, the slim skirt covered with dirt, and her high heels
were gone.

His chest clamped down at what might have happened if she had
been alone.

The store owner ran to the door. “Police are on the way!
They’ll be here any minute!”

Alex nodded and shoved his pistol back into his shoulder
holster, his arm still tight around Sabrina.

She looked him over, her eyes big and luminous in the harsh
lights over the parking lot. “Oh, my God, Alex, you’re bleeding!”

The thin slash across his stomach registered as a faintly
stinging pain. The wound wasn’t deep, thank God. He wiped blood off the corner
of his mouth. “I’m all right. This one’s not.”

She glanced down at the man on the pavement whose eyes stared
unseeing into the harsh lights overhead, and her face went pale.

Alex steadied her against him. “It’s all right, love. It’s
over. You’re safe.”

His gaze went to the darkness at the edge of the parking lot.
He hadn’t had much doubt before. Now he knew for certain. Someone wanted Sabrina
dead.

Twenty-Two

T
he police arrived, along with half a dozen
other official vehicles. The area in front of the minimart was cordoned off with
yellow crime scene tape. The paramedics went to work on the gash just below his
ribs, deemed it superficial, cleaned the scrapes on his knuckles and taped him
up. They cleansed the dirt and grit from the scrapes on Sabrina’s hands and
knees, and pressed a cold compress on the bruise along her jaw.

Alex drew her back into his arms and just held on. He had
almost lost her tonight. A shudder rippled through him at the thought.

Detectives arrived and began asking questions, which seemed to
have no end. He relayed in detail what had happened, but purposely left out the
part about the previous attempts on Sabrina’s life until he could talk to the
detectives in the morning. It was getting late and there would be time enough to
get the incidents that technically were no more than a series of unfortunate
coincidences, into the police report.

They’d been there less than an hour when Alex spotted a rugged
black Jeep with chrome wheels and oversize tires pulling up at the edge of the
minimart parking lot. He’d phoned Jake and Sage after the shooting, figuring
Sabrina might need a woman to talk to, and he could use Jake’s take on the
situation.

Sage jumped out before the Jeep had rolled to a complete stop
and ran to Sabrina, who went into her best friend’s arms. The women clung to
each other.

“Are you okay?” Sage asked, looping a heavy red curl behind
Sabrina’s ear. Alex caught the sheen of tears in her eyes before she stoically
blinked them away.

“If Alex hadn’t been with me, I’d be dead.”

His stomach knotted, the scene flashing through his mind all
over again: three men appearing out of the darkness, the knife, the gun that
would have ended her life if the man had had the chance to fire.

“I don’t know about that,” he said just to lighten the mood.
“You were doing one helluva job on that guy’s head with your purse.”

She looked down at the little white handbag, saw a trace of
blood on the clasp, and managed a wan-looking smile. “I hope I gave him a lot
worse headache than I have.”

Sage leaned down and hugged her, then held her out at arm’s
length. “No one’s going to kill you. Alex won’t let them. Neither will Jake.”
She looked up at her tall, muscular husband.

“That’s not gonna happen, sweetcheeks,” Jake said, reaching out
to run a gentle hand down Sabrina’s cheek. He turned to Alex. “We need to
talk.”

“Yeah.” Leaving the women together, he and Jake walked a few
feet away. Alex had told his friend the basics on the phone so Jake already knew
most of what had happened.

“You recognize any of them?” Jake asked.

“No. Three Hispanics, gangbangers-for-hire, I figure.”

In front of the store, the crime scene guys were at work taking
photos and collecting evidence while the detectives interviewed the store owner
and anyone who might have seen something.

While Alex kept an eye on Sabrina, Jake walked over and talked
to one of the CSIs, then took a look at the body. He returned a few minutes
later.

“Word is he isn’t carrying ID, but he’s got some flashy tats.
Trace has a friend in the department, detective named Castillo. He’s head of the
Houston P.D. gang division. Castillo knows tattoos. The department’ll be working
that angle but they may not be willing to give you the info right away. Castillo
might be able to help.”

“I know who he is. Trace mentioned him a couple of times when
he was working Maggie’s case. Alex held up his iPhone, showed Jake the photo he
had taken of the colorful tat on the dead guy’s arm. “I’ll call Castillo in the
morning, see if he’ll take a look at this.”

“Might hurry things along.”

“Yeah, and once we’ve got an ID, maybe we can tie him to
Sabrina’s cousins.”

“You’re sure they’re behind this?”

“One of them is. It still isn’t confirmed, but it looks like
there could be millions involved in that mine she inherited. With Sabrina out of
the way, those three are in line for the property. It’s the only thing that
makes sense.”

Alex glanced over at the little redhead standing next to Sage
and felt a tightness in his chest. She’d been amazing tonight. He still couldn’t
believe she’d squared off with one of them. She was one tough lady when she had
to be.

Still, just thinking what might have happened made his stomach
feel queasy.

He returned his attention to Jake. “I’m going to need some
backup on this. I don’t want to leave Sabrina alone, but I need time to work the
case.”

“Not a problem. She can stay with us as long as you want. I
won’t let her out of my sight.”

He almost smiled, imagining how well that idea was going to go
over with Sabrina.

He heard footsteps, glanced up. Over Jake’s thick-muscled
shoulder, he saw Ben Slocum walking toward them. With his black hair,
dark-tanned skin and fierce expression, he looked even more dangerous than the
dead guy on the ground. It was those pale, ice-blue eyes that gave him the
edge.

“Annie called,” Ben said, “told me what happened. She thought
you might need some backup. Trace is out of town or he’d be here, too.”

“How the hell did Annie know?” Alex asked.

Jake answered. “She was on the phone with Sage when you called
on my cell. They’re planning your birthday party—which is supposed to be a
surprise, so keep quiet about it.”

“Are you sure Annie isn’t CIA?” Alex grumbled. “That woman
seems to know everything that happens two minutes after.”

“If she isn’t, she should be,” Ben said. “At any rate, she
figured you’d need help coming up with a way to catch the bastard behind this.
She said three heads are better than two, and she’s right.”

“She usually is,” Alex conceded.

Ben walked over to look at the body. One of the uniforms
stepped in his way, Ben said something and the officer let him pass. He didn’t
get too close, just took a look, then walked back.

“How many?”

“Three.”

“Two now,” Ben said.

“How’d they know you were going to stop at the minimart?” Jake
asked.

“They didn’t. They must have followed us from the house to the
restaurant, then waited for us to come out after we ate. I thought I spotted a
dark brown sedan when we left the place, but it disappeared. Cycle trailed me
for a couple of blocks. I think they were running a relay.”

“And if they followed you from your house to the Grill,” Jake
said, “they knew you’d be heading back home after supper.”

“Which means they knew where to find you in the first place,”
Ben said.

“Any chance they bugged your car?” Jake asked.

Alex shook his head. “I keep it in the garage. No way to get to
it, at least not before we left the house.”

“Could have been the GPS in your cell.”

“Maybe.” He’d disabled Sabrina’s phone but not his own. “If it
was, it won’t happen again.” He took the phone apart and pulled out the battery,
shoved the phone back into his pocket. “I’ll pick up a disposable, use that from
now on.”

He glanced over at Sabrina. “Wouldn’t take much for the cousins
to figure she was staying with me. We paid cousin Bob a little visit and went to
see Priscilla in Uvalde. With Sabrina’s mom thrown into the mix, they’ve got one
helluva grapevine.”

“You can’t take her back to your house,” Ben said. “It’s not
safe anymore.”

“I’ll get us a room for the night. I’ll have to go home
sometime. I need some clothes and Sabrina will need to pack a few things.”

Ben scoffed. “She’s a woman. She’ll need more than a few.”

As tired as he was, Alex almost smiled.

“Let me know when you want to go and I’ll tag along,” Ben said,
“make sure the party doesn’t get out of hand.”

Alex nodded. “I’ll take you up on that.”

“This ought to throw them off their game for a while,” Jake
said. “When a plan goes south it takes time to regroup.”

“I hope you’re right.” And chances were Jake was spot-on. These
guys were not a professional hit squad. They were lowlifes someone had hired,
just the way someone had been hired to sabotage the helo engine and the steering
in the Toyota.

“I’ll follow you to the hotel,” Ben said, “make sure you don’t
run into any more surprises.”

“Thanks. In the morning, I’ll bring Sabrina into the office.
Annie can keep her entertained while we figure our next move.”

And Sabrina would definitely be safe with a former Special Ops
Marine sniper and a former Navy SEAL.

One of the detectives approached and led Alex away for another
round of questions. It was getting late for all of them, and since the mart
owner’s story matched the one Alex and Sabrina both told, they were finally
released on the condition they come into the station first thing in the
morning.

As promised, when they left, Ben followed them in his big black
SUV. Alex made a number of turns, just to play it safe, but with Ben behind them
in his Denali, he was sure he wasn’t being tailed.

He and Sabrina spent the night, what was left of it, at the
Westin Hotel near the Galleria.

Morning came way too soon.

* * *

Rina was exhausted. Her muscles ached from her fight
with the big, brawny man who had attacked them—she couldn’t believe she had
actually jumped on his back and started whacking him over the head with her
purse! But Alex was fighting for his life—fighting for both of their lives—and
there wasn’t any other choice.

She thought of what had happened and a shiver raced over her
skin. Alex had been amazing, a hero in one of those action movies. He’d taken on
three men and come out the winner, kept her safe at the risk of his own
life.

Her heart squeezed. Dear God, what if Alex had been badly
injured or even killed? She tried to feel sorry for the man he’d shot, but the
fact was, if Alex hadn’t killed him, she would probably be dead. Both of them
might be.

She’d awakened a few minutes ago, tired and edgy, her heart
pounding from a dream that was bloody and terrifying and a lot like the shooting
last night, and found herself alone in the room. Her sundress lay on the floor,
torn and dirty, completely unwearable.

She grimaced as she held it up, wondering where Alex had gone
and wishing she had something else to put on. Then she heard the sound of a key
in the lock and Alex stepped into the room. He had showered last night—they both
had—and now wore a new pair of blue jeans and a dark blue T-shirt that covered
the bandage across his ribs and had HOUSTON printed in big white letters on the
front.

He tossed a plastic shopping bag up on the bed. “These won’t be
much of a fit, but the stores in the mall aren’t open yet, and at least these
are clean.”

She reached into the bag and pulled out a pair of jeans, a
T-shirt with the Texans’ football steer-head emblazoned on the front, and a pair
of red plastic flip-flops.

“Where on earth did you find this stuff?”

“Gift shop in the lobby. They sell souvenirs and toiletries,
T-shirts, things like that. I figured these would do till you could get your own
things. I changed in the bathroom downstairs so I wouldn’t wake you up.”

She reached into the bag and pulled out one of those disposable
cell phones.

“Those can’t be tracked,” Alex said. “That one’s for you. I
figured you’d want to call your mom.”

“That was very thoughtful. Thank you.”

She shoved the phone into the purse she had used last night,
grimaced at how battered it was, then slipped into the bathroom to brush her
teeth and put on the clean clothes. Though the jeans were baggy, the boys’ size
large T-shirt fit pretty well, and as Alex said, they would do till she could go
home and retrieve some of her own clothes.

“I’m ready if you are,” she said as she came out of the
bathroom.

“One last thing before we go. It’s time we told the police
what’s going on. This is the third time someone has tried to kill you. There’s a
good chance the attacks involve one or more of your cousins. They may not like
the police asking them questions, but that’s just too damn bad.”

She thought of George and the battle he was waging to keep his
little girl alive. “We can’t do that, Alex. We don’t have a single scrap of
evidence that incriminates any of them. All we have is the assumption that
someone in my family is willing to commit murder to get their hands on Uncle
Walter’s mine.”

“It’s something the cops need to know.”

“We both know none of my cousins personally carried out any of
the attempts.”

“No, but they could have paid someone to do it. That’s the same
thing.”

“We can’t prove that. They’re my family and we don’t have a
single shred of proof they’re involved. And even if you’re right, once the cops
start asking questions, whoever it is may just pull in his horns for a few weeks
or even months, then come after me again. What do I do then? I’m not willing to
live like a rabbit until whoever is after me gives up trying to kill me.”

“Once the mine is improved, the property goes to your heirs,
not to them—it says that in the will. Your cousins would have no more reason to
kill you.”

“Assuming the ore is actually there, improving the mine will
take months. I need this over with now.”

Alex blew out a breath, his eyes a dark, penetrating blue as he
weighed her words. “I don’t like it. Not one damned bit.” He rubbed a hand over
his jaw. “Unfortunately, you’re right. The cops might scare them off. Which
would be even more dangerous for you in the long run.”

“Exactly.”

“We’ll tell the police about the other two incidents, get the
information into the report. But we won’t mention any names. In the meantime,
I’ll talk to Jake and Ben, see what we can come up with.”

She walked over and caught his arm, went up on her toes and
kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”