Reluctant Runaway (19 page)

Desi rose and stared at the crowd of grinning men crowded into the enclosed space. The smell of sweaty bodies was rank. “My name is not Kitten. You may call me Ms. Jacobs. Now may I have the pleasure of knowing who you are?”

Someone snickered. “Ain’t she hoity-toity?”

Red Beard glared at the speaker. He rose beside her. “Now, boys, mind your manners. I said we knew how to treat a lady, and I could see that’s what she is, even under that dumb blanket.” He turned toward her. “Allow me to do the honors.” He made an odd sort of half bow. “This here is … ” He went through a dizzying list like Crankcase, Badger, Knife, and less repeatable nicknames. Mountain Man was Tank. Appropriate.

“And then there’s me.” Red Beard’s grin widened, and he began unbuttoning his shirt.

Desi backed away, but she ran up against Tank, who’d crept
up behind her with the stealth of the cat she prayed to be when the moment came. He leered down at her. Her blood went arctic. Looked like there wasn’t going to be a moment for silent exit.

Only teeth and claws.

“There’s the rest of the blanket.” Tony pointed.

The bird set down, stirring up grit that stung his face as he ran to the crumpled piece of cloth. He grabbed it and held it to his nose. The exotic scent of Desi’s hair. As always, his heart beat double-time at the fragrance. If only it was her he held. An ache settled in his chest.

Ortiz wandered away a few yards. “Here’s a bunch of motorcycle tire tracks. Looks like she found a ride. Or a ride found her. Not sure that’s good—especially if it’s Snake Bonney’s gang out for a good time.”

Tony studied the crisscross of tracks. “Impossible to tell if they were going into the desert or coming out.”

Ortiz put her hands on her hips. “Logistics dictate that we follow the trail into the desert and let the team at Laguna check out the highway. I’m thinking they’ll hit the jackpot, not us. Hope so, anyway. Hard to sneak up on them in a helicopter, and better odds than you, me, and the pilot taking on a whole motorcycle gang.”

“Right now, I’d take on Genghis Khan and the barbarian horde.”

Ortiz frowned. “Hold that thought, Lucano. We may need to go for the guts and glory.”

Red Beard shrugged out of his shirt and turned one shoulder toward Desi. “See?” He rippled his muscles. What had looked
like a tattoo of a fat slinky wrapped around his thick bicep became an undulating snake that crawled up his arm, over his shoulder, and ended by his collarbone in a gaping mouth with dripping fangs. The tip of the creature’s nose and a single fang had been all she could see earlier. Now she had the whole picture.

Better yet, the time hadn’t come for her to defend her honor. A high-pitched laugh trickled out her throat. “Decent work of art, Snake Bonney.”

His face lit. “You’ve heard of me?”

“You’re Karen’s ex-boyfriend. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about her.”

“You know Karen? Who are you?” He strode forward, lips pulled back. “Did you take her?”

Desi tried to shrink away, but had nowhere to go with the immovable Tank at her back. “Me?” Her voice squeaked. “I’m a kidnappee, not a kidnapper.”

“Huh?” Bonney’s brow furrowed. “Someone kidnapped you?”

“What else do you call being grabbed and hauled off to someplace unknown by a bunch of men I don’t know from Adam?”

“Who’s Adam? You mean Karen’s kid? Will you talk sense, woman?”

Desi held her breath and slipped out of the biker sandwich the two big men made of her. She walked back to her chair and sat down. Stay cool. Look calm. Offense is the best defense. “You kidnapped me. Did you snatch Karen, too?”

A dark whisper went around the room, and Bonney scowled at her. Tank crossed his arms over his chest like Mr. Clean without the smile. Or the clean.

“We didn’t snatch nobody.” Bonney glanced around the room and got a murmur of agreement. “Including you. Way I see it, we saved your life, Miss High-and-Mighty.”

Desi tapped her upper lip. “You have a point. I was on the
crispy side of well done out there. But if you were so concerned about my welfare, why didn’t you take me to a town or ranch house so I could get medical help? I could still collapse and die of heatstroke, you know.”

Bonney flashed a grin. “You’re tongue’s too lively to be next door to dead. ‘Sides, this was the nearest shade available, and we’ve got some serious partying to do. We don’t take a detour for nobody when it’s party time.”

His men cheered and raised their glasses. Bonney grabbed his from the cup holder on his chair, and the whole crowd chugged their glasses empty. The snake on Bonney’s arm rippled as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He let out a belch and handed his empty glass to someone who filled it.

Then he settled into his chair next to Desi and put his face in hers. Beer breath washed into her nostrils.

“What do you know about Karen?” His stare was cold. “And why do people keep bugging me like I took her? Like I’d want a woman who’s turned into a religious fruit loop?” He ground out a foul word.

Desi refused to look away. “Didn’t you call her more than once before she disappeared?”

“After I ran into her one day looking all middle-class American, I got curious about what was up with her. She asked me to call, but I quit after a couple of times. She kept spouting all this Inner Witness stuff.” A few more colorful words summed up his opinion.

“Who do you think took her then?”

Bonney shrugged. “Maybe nobody. People get into these groups that brainwash you, and they end up doing strange things. I’ve heard about this stuff. Gotta be careful what kind of a people you hook up with these days.” He nodded like the sage of the universe.

Desi looked away. “That’s true.” Her gaze passed over the party activity. No one was paying attention to her and the gang leader. Except Tank, whose broad back held up the wall by the door. He stared at them with all the warmth of the machine he was named after. The rest were absorbed in their beer or their joints—which explained the sweetish smell in the room. A few had women snuggled up to them. “Do you consider this your family?”

“We’re tight, yeah. Like family, we’ve got each other’s backs. Some of these guys are married, you know. Got kids. Their wives are here. And we’re not bums. We work. Pay taxes. But we like to cut loose on our bikes and have a good time. No harm in that, but the cops don’t always see it that way. Out here we can have privacy to do our thing. No harm. No foul.”

Something softened around the area of Desi’s heart. She still had no reason to believe that she wasn’t slated to be this guy’s cuddle of the evening. He maybe figured she owed him that much. But fear couldn’t quite compete with a rush of compassion.

These people weren’t putting on a front. They already knew they were bottom of the barrel. Outcasts. Misfits. But who was calling the kettle black? In her business, she rubbed shoulders with people who went to church, wore designer clothes, lived in mansions, drove fancy cars, and maintained all they owned by lying, cheating, and backstabbing.

Who was worse off? The go-for-broke sinner or the hypocrite? Jesus ate with sinners and called the hypocrites vipers.

“Bonney?”

“It’s Snake.”

She held out her hand. “Hello, Snake. I’m Desiree.”

He raised bushy brows and shook it.

“Thank you for taking me in when I was lost,” she said.

“Don’t mention it.” He chuckled and sipped his beer. “Want one?” He held his glass up.

“I’ll finish my water. I’ve heard alcohol is dehydrating.”

“ ‘Kay.” He nodded, gaze wandering the room.

He didn’t act like a guy with one thing on his mind. Of course, the party had just started, and he wasn’t liquored up yet. Wise to say what was on her heart then scoot as soon as possible.

“Karen got off on the wrong track with her faith. Sometimes happens with young believers. She’ll get back to the truth eventually.”

Snake stared at her. “You think she’s alive?”

“I’m not going to think anything else until we have proof otherwise.”

“Good.” He put his empty glass in the cup holder. “Me, too. But if anyone’s messed with her, they’ll have to deal with me.”

“Why would you care?”

He frowned. “She was one of us once. Fine if she chooses to walk a different road. I don’t have to like it to respect it. But lights out to anyone who hurts her on purpose.” He punched a fist into his palm.

Whump … whump … whump … whump …

“What’s that?” Snake sat up rigid in his chair. The party noises faded.

The sound of an approaching helicopter grew louder by the second.

Desi cleared her throat. “No worries.” Everyone stared at her. “I forgot to mention I’m special friends with an FBI agent. That’s him looking for me.”
Dear heavens, I hope it’s true
.

“The feds!” Tank’s bellow catapulted everyone into action.

Shouting and cursing, the gang piled out the door, leaving Desi, Snake, and Tank in the hut. Outside, engines revved to life.

Snake shot her a sad-eyed smile. “You’ll be fine then.” He grabbed his shirt and trotted for the door, but stopped and looked over his shoulder, tattoo wiggling into a new contortion.
“They can’t catch us all, y’know.” He winked and was gone, leaving her with …

She stared into the mountain’s face.

He bared yellowed teeth. “Guess it’s just you and me, girlie.” He stepped toward her.

Desi stood up and inched backward, searching with her peripheral vision for an exit. Solid walls. Tank stood between her and egress through windows or door. Helicopter rotors and motorcycle engines split the air with mind-numbing din.

Tank took another step forward.

He was enjoying the stalk and didn’t seem too intelligent. Maybe she could keep him busy until Tony charged to the rescue. “You’re not going to escape with the others?”

The discolored grin widened. “No need. I got a secret hidey-hole under everybody’s noses. Big enough for you and me until everyone’s gone. Then we party.”

He lunged for her.

Sixteen
 

L
ook at ‘em scatter!” Ortiz bumped Tony’s arm as the chopper closed in on the site.

A cluster of vehicles—motorcycles, ATVs, a Range Rover—began to scatter in all directions. Tony glanced at Ortiz. “I don’t see Desi.” He keyed the pilot on the headset. “Put down as close to that hut as possible.”

“You got it.” The chopper descended as the last of the cycles scattered—except for one. The big hog sat alone and unattended.

Unless the owner had abandoned his cycle and hitched a ride, someone was still here. Rage gusted through Tony. Wait until he got his hands on whoever took her.

She’d better be all right, or they wouldn’t be.

Desi shrieked and dodged Tank’s massive hand.

She flung her canteen and got him in the face. He staggered back, shaking his head, while she darted around him and made for the door. One stride. Her breath rasped in her ears. Two strides. Three—

Whoof!

The floor leaped up to meet her, and the air left her lungs as a mountain landed across her back. Tank wrenched one arm behind her back and hauled her to her feet. Pain shimmered through her body.

Tony! Help!
But she couldn’t call out. Her lungs strained to recapture air, but an arm mashed across her windpipe. Tank dragged her toward the trunk in the corner. He thrust her to the floor and planted a booted foot in her back while he tore at the latch.

The helicopter sounded right on top of them.
Hurry, Tony! Hurry!

Darkness swirled through her vision. The foot in her back kept her from taking a full breath.

The lid of the chest swung open, and Tank dug inside. He roared a curse. The boot pressed down, and Desi’s back creaked. Her head felt like an overblown balloon. The boot lifted, and blackness receded.

Tank bent over her, snarling obscenities over the din of the helicopter. The biker picked her up with one arm under her waist like she weighed nothing. She glimpsed a gaping maw where the bottom of the chest should be.

Not going down there!

Desi twisted and raked him with her nails. Red lines appeared on his bull neck. He howled and pulled back a fist as big as her face.

Something slammed into her attacker, ripping them apart. Desi staggered, and the backs of her knees hit the side of the chest. Gasping, she windmilled for balance. Still tottering, she flung herself to the side, away from the trunk and the men who battled only feet away.

Tony!

Tank’s feet and fists flew. The scruffy thug fought with no style and no rules—pure enraged street brawler. Tony’s moves were controlled, fluid. Dodging a fist, he landed an openhanded chop to the side of the biker’s neck. Tank staggered, recovered, and closed in again. The biker’s foot rammed for Tony’s midsection
but caught empty air. Off-balance, he went down, rolled, and came up swinging. A huge fist shaved past Tony’s ear, and he answered with a sidekick to the solar plexus that slammed the biker against the wall.

Tank wobbled forward, shook himself, and then charged with a bellow. Tony ducked and rammed the biker in the stomach with his shoulder. The mountain of muscle flipped end over end and whammed onto the table flat on his back. The tabletop split, cups flew, and kegs rolled down on top of the gasping biker.

Desi gave a hoarse cheer.

Tank flailed then froze, bug-eyed, with Ortiz’s gun almost shoved up his nose. Silence deafened as the helicopter noise faded and died.

A growl came from Tony. “Why don’t you step outside for a while, New Mexico. I’m not done
interrogating
this lowlife.” He stared down at the blinking thug.

A shiver ran through Desi. The look scared her, and it wasn’t even pointed in her direction.

“Cool it, Lucano,” Ortiz said. “You’re not here, remember?”

Tony rolled his shoulders and took a step backward. “No problem. This is your collar. I’m a ghost.”

Ortiz bobbed her chin in Desi’s direction. “I think someone else needs your attention.”

Desi sat up. Tony’s gaze found hers. Emotions chased themselves across his face. Wide-eyed shock—she must look like a rag doll somebody dragged in the dirt—followed by narrow-eyed fury and a glance at the biker now being handcuffed by Ortiz. His gaze returned to hers, and those chiseled features softened. Life-giving warmth flowed through Desi, lifting her to her feet as if she hadn’t an ache in her body.

They moved and met and clung. His fierce clasp hurt bruises
she didn’t know she had. Her hands fisted in the back of his sweat-soaked shirt.

“You smell like a brewery,” he murmured into her hair.

“Do you mind?” she said into his shirt pocket.

“Not one bit.”

Two hours later, from her bed in a curtained emergency room cubicle, Desi finished giving Tony a sketchy overview of her adventures, minus the off-the-wall notion of cult cannibalism. She’d bring it up when he was less upset with her and after Max and her family were protected from vicious Gordon Corp truckers. “Pete said they might go after the baby to draw him out.” She fingered the tape that held the IV line to the back of her hand.

“Quit messing with that.” Seated by the bed, Tony took her free hand. “You’re lucky to get out of this with only a little dehydration and mild sunburn.”

“I know it, honey, and I’m sorry But did you hear what I said?”

“Cheama’s dead. That’s what the anonymous caller claimed.”

Desi’s heart went hollow. “Poor Jo. She and her ex may not have gotten along, but they were close once. That’s got to matter. And Karen, when she finds out … ” A tear wet her cheek.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Tony brushed the moisture away with his fingertips. “You’re a soft touch, you know That’s what got you into this trouble.” His thumb traced a spot on her cheek. “Did that biker hit you?” The hard tone didn’t match the caress.

“Hit me?” She blinked at him. ‘You prevented that catastrophe, remember?”

“You’ve got a bruise.” His thumb moved again.

Desi turned into the touch. “Mmmm. What? Oh, must be from yesterday. I bumped my face against the steering wheel reaching for something on the floor.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t tell me you throttled yourself, too. There are finger marks on your neck.”

“Okay, Mr. Observant. Pete Cheama did that, but it was an accident. He—”

“An accident!” Tony went stiff. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“He was trying to stop me from running into traffic and getting killed, so—”

“Hold it.” Tony held up his hand. “Later on we’ll go through every insane detail, but right now you need to relax and let that fluid get into your system.”

“I want a long shower. That little medical sponge bath on my bumps and bruises wasn’t enough. And a big meal, too, as soon as that doc will let me out of here.”

“You lie still, and I’ll go make a reservation for you at the same place I’m staying.” He planted a kiss on her lips. “Don’t go anywhere.”

“Don’t worry. I think I could snooze the clock around.” She yawned.

“Go right ahead.”

“Can’t. There’s too much to sort out. Max and her family need someone to keep an eye on them. Does anyone besides the FBI and me know about Cheama’s death?”

“All we know is someone says he died, and they had good reason to lie.”

“What a mess. Leaves us with no clue what to tell anyone.” Desi started to cross her arms, jerked the IV line, and let out a frustrated noise.

Planting his hands on either side of her shoulders, Tony kissed her again then drew away a few inches. Their gazes meshed. Desi’s pulse rate soared. Close exposure to an Italian hunk—great for the circulation. Bad for the concentration.

The laugh lines around his eyes crinkled. “You’re determined
to worry. How about this? I’ll call Stevo. He’ll leap at the chance to camp out at Max’s house.”

“And do you know why?” Desi tried to sit up, but Tony pushed her back down. “Can you believe it?” She subsided against the too-firm mattress. “Steve Crane and Lana Burke, Max’s dainty mother? That’s like the Incredible Hulk and Tinkerbell. Captain Hook and Mary Poppins.”

Tony chuckled. “Beauty and the Beast. We know how that one turned out.”

Desi scowled. “You’re not taking me seriously.”

“Should I?”

Desi opened her mouth then shut it.

“Nothing to say?” He arched a brow.

“I hate it when you’re right and I’m an idiot.”

“You’re never an idiot.”

Desi smoothed the sheet, a smile tugging at her lips. “But you
are
right. It’s none of my business.” She touched his arm. “I think I’m scared that the relationship will work out. Since Max is like a sister to me, I’d feel related to Crane.” She shuddered. “That would be too weird.”

“I sympathize. Max’s boy still figures me for his Grandpa Steve’s honorary son.” Tony grimaced. Their gazes met, and they both laughed.

“You rest.” Tony went to the curtain opening. “I’ll make a few phone calls and check back in a little while.”

He disappeared, and a pang struck Desi’s middle.
Don’t leave
me, Tony. She rolled onto her side toward the IV pole. Man, she sounded pitiful. A lot of people in the ER were going through more trauma than her. Moans and the brisk voices of medical personnel in other cubicles confirmed her thought, but the empty ache didn’t leave. She snuggled the sheet under her chin and sniffed. Acrid disinfectant smells filled her nostrils.

Sure, go make your phone calls, Lucano
. She was stuck here attached to this gadget.

He’d call the hotel, Steve Crane, Max probably, and for sure Agent Ortiz for an update on evidence processing out at the bikers’ party site. When she and Tony had left in the Army helicopter, the place was swarming with tribal police, DEA, and federal agents—all hunting for their piece of the pie. The natives wanted to nail Snake’s gang for illegal use of reservation grounds, the DEA wanted anything connected to drugs, and the feds wanted clues about stolen artifacts and a missing museum receptionist.

Wonder what they found in Tank’s hidey-hole? Like Tony would tell her when he got the word.

Mighty grumpy, girl, when the man saved your bacon this afternoon
.

Desi flopped over onto her back and stared at the dull white ceiling. She scratched her nose, and the needle in the back of her hand gave a twinge. Huffing, she rolled onto her side again and stared at the pole.
It’s my IV, and I’ll grump if I want to
.

She yawned and closed her eyes. No way was she going to sleep though. She might be safe, but what about Max and the baby?

Under the shade of a tree outside the hospital, Tony finished his call to Steve Crane. He went inside and threaded between ER traffic to Desi’s cubicle. Sticking his head through the curtains, he grinned at the still form under the sheet.
Lights out, sweetheart
. Maybe she’d stay asleep until he checked in with Ortiz.

“Excuse me, sir.”

Or maybe not. Tony glanced over his shoulder to find a stocky, gray-haired nurse trying to get by him. He stepped aside, and she whisked into Desi’s cubicle.

“IV’s all finished,” she said as if trying to be heard over a Sunday crowd at a Sox game.

Tony winced. Forty winks cut down to twenty.

“What?” Desi’s eyelids fluttered. “Oh, yes, can you get me out of this thing?” Her voice was slurred. Soft sounds followed, like tape coming off, and a rustle of sheets. “Where’s Tony?”

He stepped between the curtains. “Right here, babe. I told you I’d hang around.”

Her face relaxed.

The nurse scowled. “Sir, you’ll have to—”

“Stay!” Desi reached toward him.

Tony took her hand and stood on the other side of the bed while the stone-faced nurse removed the IV needle. He ignored the disapproval and rubbed his thumb across the soft palm he held. She needed him. How many men could say that a woman as strong and independent as Desiree Jacobs felt that way about them? She was a rare find, and this lucky slob had almost lost her.

Lord,
I can’t do that Not until we’re old and gray. And maybe not even then. I think I’d need to go first
. But how could he keep her safe when he loved her the way she was, and the way she was got her in over her head with people like wanted fugitives and outlaw bikers?

“What’s the matter?” Desi squeezed his hand. “You look like a man facing the gallows.”

Tony squared his shoulders and winked at her. “No, just a lifelong torture rack.”

“Huh?”

“Never mind.” He shook his head.

“All done.” The nurse glared at them both. “You’re free to go, Ms. Jacobs. The doctor has released you.” With a lift of the nose at Tony, she left the cubicle.

Desi giggled. “At least one woman in this world is immune to your charms, Mr. Lucano. But not this one.” She tugged on his hand. “Thanks for waiting for me. I know you’re chomping at the bit to get back to headquarters and find out what’s going on.”

Tony tweaked her sun-reddened chin. “No way, lady. I’m going to escort you to that hotel and make sure you have everything you need.
Then
I’ll go to the office and let you rest.”

“Hospitals are terrible for that, aren’t they?” She laughed, the familiar spark in her eyes. “By the way, darlin’, that was a great answer. Nothing warms the cockles of a woman’s heart more than knowing she’s first place with her man. Now get out of here while I shed this elegant hospital gown and put my grungy clothes back on.”