Dead Running (25 page)

“I am.” He winced. “Cassie, I’m sorry we had to lie to you. I was trying to keep you safe and I was dealing with losing your mother.”

I wished he hadn’t brought it up. Feeling like he couldn’t trust me was hard. “I’m . . . trying to understand.” I found myself pulling away from him.

Dad kept his hand on my arm as if he couldn’t stand to be disconnected from me. “We were protecting you, Cassie. You didn’t need the stress . . .” He exhaled, not finishing his thought.

I shook my head. “Jared and Nana both knew. Didn’t you think I could keep a secret?”

Dad grabbed me around the waist and ushered me into his side. “Sorry, babe, this isn’t the time. We’ve got to go.”

I looked up to see a large vehicle approaching from the north. Dad pulled me into a full sprint. We reached the Tahoe. He shoved me inside then scrambled over me and into the driver’s seat.

“Dad, calm down. It’s just a va . . .” The words died in my throat. A cargo van. I could clearly see the driver and the man in the passenger seat. “Muscle Man,” I whispered, fear clogging my throat.

Dad jerked the key and gunned the engine. We flew past the van. Muscle Man’s eyes locked onto mine as we passed. I glared right back. Dirty monster had no right to kill my mother.

Greasy Beanpole flipped the van around. The lumbering buggy pursued us like a sports car.

“Hang on,” Dad yelled, pressing the accelerator to the floor.

After several attempts, my trembling fingers secured my seatbelt.

Dad zoomed through the neighborhoods surrounding the golf course. The van caught us. I spun around in my seat, peeking above the headrest to see Muscle Man’s ugly face. He leered at us. Greasy Beanpole gripped the steering wheel with both hands, leaning forward as if intent on running our sport utility over.

Dad darted down the golf course hill. The van couldn’t manipulate the corners as well. We turned onto the road leading up Smithfield Canyon. “Why are we going up a canyon?” I asked. “Drive to the police station.”

Dad’s hazel eyes twinkled. He tossed me his phone. “And let them disappear? We’re going to trap them.”

“Trap them or us?”

He careened around a corner. “Call the police. Once we get far enough up the canyon there will be no way out.”

Yeah, and we’ll be at Muscle Man’s mercy
.

I followed his instructions, begging Detectives Shine and Fine to set up some sort of roadblock and send a load of officers up the canyon as well. They said they’d come and do their best to bring support. I wasn’t encouraged.

Beautiful houses and greenery blurred as we sped up the windy road. I kept watch behind. “I can’t see them.”

Then the road would straighten out and I could almost feel Muscle Man capturing us. “There they are,” I screamed, clutching the armrest.

Dad nodded each time I reported, his focus on the road. We raced the length of a decent straightaway. The van didn’t appear behind us. We maneuvered a few more tight turns and then Dad squealed onto a dirt road overgrown with trees, shrubs, and wild flowers. He parked behind a grouping of trees. I watched intently out my window. Seconds later, the van darted past us.

I caught my first full breath in minutes. “It worked.”

Dad looked at me. “You’re beautiful, Cassie.”

I pushed buttons on Dad’s phone. “Odd comment for a life or death situation.”

Dad grinned. “True. I just can’t believe how pretty you are. How much you look like . . .” He shook his head. Suddenly unable to meet my gaze, Dad dropped the vehicle into reverse, punched the gas pedal, and spun around. We raced out onto the road and back down the canyon.

I kept watch behind us, an easier task than responding to Dad’s last comment. He slowed down, giving Muscle Man a chance to catch us. My heart withered at the thought. Within minutes, the van reappeared. “Here they come,” I screamed, clinging to the armrest with sweaty fingers.

Dad smiled. “Perfect. If the police did what you asked, this could be our break.”

We came to the spot where Canyon Road split into Upper and Lower. Several police cars barricaded the road. Dad slowed to a stop. I watched behind us for the van to appear around the next corner. Several seconds passed. “They were closing in on us,” I muttered.

I jumped from the car.

“Cassidy,” Dad yelled, climbing out his side.

Detective Shine and Fine strode to meet us.

“They must’ve turned around,” I called in way of greeting. “They should be here by now.”

Shine nodded. “We’ll leave a car here and go find them.”
 
Fine was already running to their patrol car.

Dad and I waited a few minutes before trudging back to the Tahoe. Silence surrounded us as we sank into the captain chairs and studied the road. I prayed for Muscle Man’s capture. “Where do you think they went?”

Dad shrugged. “Don’t worry. We’ll get them.” He reached across the console and took my hand in his. “I’ll make sure you’re safe.”

“I think you’re the one who isn’t safe. Why do they want you so bad?”

Anger filled his eyes. “Human trafficking is a billion dollar industry.” He grinned, though I could still feel his disgust. “I cut into their profits.”

I wanted to ask how he did that, but he went on, “Plus, Ramirez and Panetti both hate me.” He shrugged. “Especially Panetti. You remember.”

I shivered, wishing I didn’t.

Dad stared at me. “Your mother was so proud of you. She bragged to everyone about her brilliant exercise scientist who was helping the world be healthier.” He cleared his throat. “Are you still running your corporate fitness company? That was such a great concept.”

I shifted on the leather seat and studied the empty road. When would Shine and Fine reappear, gloating that they’d caught Muscle Man? “Um, no. When the recession hit, the companies had to cut somewhere.” I fiddled with my watch, flushing red. “Guess I was a dispensable product.”

“Nana didn’t tell me.” Dad rubbed my arm. “That wasn’t your fault.”

Maybe not, but it sure made me feel like a failure. “But I’m starting a new personal training business for small groups. I’ve got a great gym who is already signing up clients, we start in October. They were nice to let me focus on the marathon first.”

“That’s great. You never were a quitter. You’re so much like your mombeautiful and inspiring.” He smiled softly. “I wish she could see you now.”

The words warmed me, but would my mom be proud of me? My new venture would be fun and help women get into shape, but she’d given her life protecting children. I needed to do more that she and I could be proud of.
 

Dad patted my head like he could read my mind. “There’s so much more to you than your outward beauty.”

“Thanks, Dad.” I stared out the car window, hoping he was right. At that moment, Shine and Fine’s patrol car reappeared. I jumped out of the Tahoe and rushed to meet them.

Shine shook his head at me. “The van’s deserted up a narrow dirt road a couple miles back. No sign of the men.”

I grabbed his arm. “You’ve got to find them.”

He nodded. “Johnson and Rodriguez are searching the surrounding area on foot. We’re bringing in more reinforcements. They couldn’t just disappear.”

I shivered. Dad wrapped his arm around me. Muscle Man had disappeared. When would he reappear?

After several days of silence, Damon started calling repeatedly. I got pretty good at making up excuses or avoiding him. I still heard nothing from Jesse. Nothing! I could almost talk myself into truly disliking him, but my lips singed from his touch and I could still see the warmth in his eyes as he said he'd protect me.

My dad made me promise to train inside until they knew where Muscle Man and Greasy Beanpole were and he was certain I was safe. The little bit of time I’d been able to spend with my dad was so wonderful, I didn’t put up much of a fight.

On Saturday, I was scheduled to for my third twenty miler. I’d run my last twenty miles on the treadmill and I really couldn’t take anymore. I think I would’ve preferred fleeing from Muscle Man. When my dad called, I thought it was worth asking, “Please, can you have somebody follow me so I can run outside?”

“Sick of the treadmill?”

“More than you know.”

“I just want to guarantee you’re safe.”

“But Muscle Man hasn’t shown up for two weeks. He probably got fired or gave up.”

“These men have been tracking me for years, sweetheart. You really think they’re going to give up after one run-in with the police?”

It wasn’t even a run-in. Muscle Man and Greasy Beanpole had evaded the police and our trap up the canyon. They could be anywhere. “Please, I can’t hack the treadmill anymore. I’m getting injuries, and I won’t be prepared for the marathon. Inside running is different than outside.”

He paused for half a second. “I don’t know, babe.”

Ooh, I had him now. I’d achieved a pause. “I know it’s asking a lot,” I said, “but I really am about to lose my mind. Don’t you trust my judgment?” It was a subterranean blow, but I had to take it. He was inches from where I wanted him.

“Cassie,” Dad exhaled.

I waited. My arguments had been made, it was crucial not to push too hard.

The seconds crawled by. Finally, he muttered, “Okay, okay. I’ll ask a couple of the FBI agents to follow you. What time?”

“Yes.” I did a little dance in the living room. “Woo-hoo. Woo-hoo.”

“Stop celebrating and tell me a time.”

“Let a girl party for a second.”

“Cassidy, this is not a party. Your life is on the line here.”

I rolled my eyes. “Naw. It’s you they want dead. They just like to threaten me to get to you.” The second my flippant words were out, I regretted them. “Sorry, Dad. You know I’m thrilled you’re still alive and I want to keep you that way.”

“You make a man wonder,” he said. “By the way, who was the boy that finished your run with you a few weeks ago? The one your Nana says you won’t talk to anymore.”

“Like you haven’t already checked him out?”

“I’d like to hear it from you.”

“Past history, Pops.” I gritted my teeth. Here I was recovering from Damon and my long-misplaced father had to remind me.

“You sure? Nana seems to think you were pretty smitten by him.”

“Smitten? Really, Dad. Smitten? When you can talk with my generation give me a call. I’ll be ready at five-thirty in the morning.”

“Five-thirty? Good heavens, Cassidy.”

“Thanks, Dad. Love ya. Gotta go carb up and get my rest so your FBI buddies won’t get too bored following me.” I hung up the phone before he could change his mind and went to the kitchen to scrounge up some carbs. It was annoying that my dad thought he needed to pry about Damon, but honestly really nice that he was around to care.

*
         
*
         
*

A white Toyota Avalon waited outside my front door at promptly five-thirty. I waved and jogged to the car. Dad rolled down the window. “You sure we have to do this, Cassie?”

I frowned. “You shouldn’t be out here.”

He shook his head, his blond hair needed a trim. “It’ll be fine. I wanted the chance to see you, even if it meant getting up before the sun.” He sighed. “If I can stay awake.”

It felt like a blanket straight out of the dryer had been wrapped around my shoulders. My dad was giving up sleep just to watch me run. “Like it’s going to be so hard on you. You get to sit in a car and watch me kick my own butt.”

He smiled. “You always have such a nice way of putting things.”

I handed him a mug and his face split into the grin I’d missed so much these past two years. “Your famous hot cocoa?”

“I figured I’d butter up whoever was helping me out this morning.” I shifted from one foot to the other. “Thanks for doing this for me, Dad.”

“Anything for you.” He took a tentative sip. “Ah. Just like I like it. Dark chocolate with a hint of cinnamon. I’ve missed you, sweetie.”

“At least you knew I was alive.” The words came out before I could retract them. “I mean, I missed you more because I thought you were dead.”