Sinful Suspense Box Set (25 page)

He hesitated as if he wasn’t sure, and I felt silly for asking.

“It’s all right. Not everyone likes traveling shows.”

“No, that’s not it. I’ve got some things to do in the next few days. If everything ends well, then I will be at the show. And I’ll be keeping an eye out for the beautiful copper-haired horse walker.”

I sipped some more ginger ale. “If everything ends well? That sounds sort of dangerous.”

He didn’t answer, and from the look on his face, I wasn’t too far off with my assessment.

“Well, I have to get back,” I said. “Can you give me a leg up?”

He put down his bottle and cupped his hands for my foot. Without spilling a drop, I threw my leg over Gypsy’s back and sat down. I raised up the bottle. “Thanks so much for the drink. Take care of yourself, Jackson Jarrett.”

“Thanks for the lift.” He tipped his hat to me.

I reined Gypsy around and smiled down at him as I moved past.

Chapter 4

Jackson

“A half moon,
” I noted, “couldn’t have asked for a better amount of light. Not too much but just enough to see the ruts in the road and cast shadows for a bit of deception.” I looked over at the car. Noah was just sliding out of the backseat. “You did a good job positioning those hats, Noah. Looks like a car full of passengers. Can’t be carrying moonshine if the backseat is filled with people.”

“What I don’t understand, Jackson,” Noah said, “is why we are taking the car out at all if it’s not going to carry any whiskey?”

“It’s all part of the plan.” Noah had the same smile as his sister, Ella, and every time I saw it, it made my throat tighten. “Do you remember everything I told you?” I asked.

“Sure do, Jackson.” He looked nervous at the moment, but I knew he would pull himself together once the action got started.

I lifted my finger at him. “Don’t forget, if things go wrong or badly then you take this car and drive as fast as you can for home. No looking back, right?”

“Ain’t nothing going to happen, Jackson. I’ve got you covered.”

I patted him on the shoulder. “Good man.” I looked around. Three vehicles. Four men. We were ready. “They’ll have at least six men, the three Denton brothers and their three partners. They use two Fords that have both been upgraded. They’re fast. Much faster than our car and especially these two old trucks. No doubt, they’ll be waiting for us at the fork. Tonight, they might have a third car, maybe even some extra men. There is a lot at stake, so they’re not going to take any chances. I’ve no doubt they’ll have men and a car on the Georgetown side of the bridge just to make sure we don’t get through. Of course, I’m just speculating about all this. If I’m wrong, then this whole thing could turn to shit. We know two things for certain about the Dentons. They are better with guns than fists, and they like to play with fire, literally. As long as we stick to the plan, and as long as they don’t show up with more men or more vehicles, we’ll win this thing. So, take your last smokes, boys, and we’ll get moving.”

“This one is on me.” Noah pulled out his pack of cigarettes, and we each took one. Noah had never grown big and strong like his brother, Henry, and his dad, Willie, had made it painfully obvious that he was disappointed in his youngest son. Noah didn’t have the temper or the cruel nature of his pa and older brother. But Noah was smart, and with all the shit he’d had to put up with from his pa, he managed to grow up with a good sense of independence. He was Bodhi’s best friend, and he tended to hang out with us Jarrett’s more than at home with his family. Although his family consisted only of his pa, who woke up drunk and went to bed drunk, a habit that had resulted from losing both Ella and Henry in the space of three years. Noah’s ma spent most of her time cooking and taking care of Willie. Katy, Noah’s only remaining sibling, had moved away with her husband.

Gideon walked over to the truck. “Bodhi, climb in and hold her in neutral while I give her a crank, eh?” He stuck his cigarette between his lips and bent down to the crank while Bodhi climbed into the driver’s seat. Gideon had gotten both trucks up and running. The tires were old and worn, and the wooden beds were splintery and cracked, but the trucks served our purpose perfectly. Gideon had removed the back windshield on the cab of one truck like I’d asked.

I adjusted the crates in the back, and the glass jars clinked together. I wanted to make sure they were seen.

The engine sputtered. “You did a good job bringing this old relic to life, brother,” I said. “Maybe that brain of yours isn’t mush after all.”

“Yeah, I’ll give you mush for brains, Jacks.” Gideon dropped the cigarette and smashed it with the toe of his shoe. “Are we going to stand here all night, or are we going to get this show started? Still don’t understand why my truck is filled with empty boxes covered with a canvas tarp.”

“It’s called a decoy, Gideon. They don’t know the boxes are empty, so be ready for the chase. Noah, give Bodhi and me ten minutes head start. That back road is hard for horses. It’ll be even harder for this old truck. Then you and your
passengers
drive on. Gideon will be close behind in the second truck.”

I climbed into the driver’s seat of the truck, and Bodhi climbed into the passenger’s side. The truck lurched forward, and it limped along like a lame horse on the unpaved road. The back road wasn’t really a road at all but a swath of cleared dirt that led to the back of our house. Whenever Gideon and I had been out getting drunk or in trouble and we didn’t want Ma or Ole Roy to see us come in, we’d use the secret path to get home. Then we’d climb in through our bedroom windows. I was fairly certain Ole Roy knew what we were up to, but he never let on. It would have caused Ma too much worry.

I pointed to the floor of the truck. “Reach under the seat. I stuck a bottle down there.”

Bodhi pulled out the bottle and held it up. “Are we going to have a drink?” he asked. “You know I hate the taste of this shit.”

“No drinks. Besides, it’s just water.”

Bodhi stared at me in confusion. “None of this is making sense to me.”

“It will. Just remember everything I told you, and keep to your orders, soldier, all right?” I turned to him and chucked him on the shoulder.

“Yes, sir,” he said with a salute.

The truck was still running fine when we reached the lookout spot, a patch of grass tall enough for camouflage, a half mile from the fork in the road. The Dentons lived about five miles south of Harper’s Cross in an area at the base of the mountains that didn’t even have a town name. The three brothers were rough around the edges and no more educated than tom cats, but like stray cats, they had cunning and they knew how to survive. They’d won over Griggs early on. But their partnership was about to come to an abrupt end . . . as long as my plan worked. I knew that if we’d just taken the truck and headed toward Georgetown with our forty crates, we wouldn’t have had a chance. The profitable partnership with Griggs had allowed the Dentons to beef up their cars and get bigger wheels. There was no way we could outrun them, and Griggs knew that. There was no doubt in my mind that he was counting on the Dentons to catch and probably kill us. This was a game, a night of sport for Griggs, but I was going to make sure that the game ended in our favor.

The truck motor chugged in neutral as if it had a bad cough. “Keep your fingers crossed that this truck stays alive, Bodhi. Otherwise we’re finished.”

Two headlights glowed in the distance. “There’s Noah.” Bodhi put the bottle down on the seat next to him and pulled his gun from its holster.

“A little change in plan,” I said. “When we get right in front of them, I want you to heave that bottle out first. Doesn’t have to damage the car. I just want them to be convinced that the whiskey is in our truck. Then take out the headlights. Nothing more. I don’t want to start a war with the Dentons for taking out one of their kin.”

“Right.”

Our gray Ford rumbled past with Noah behind the wheel and four fedoras bouncing on sticks in the empty seats.

Bodhi laughed, but it wasn’t his usual laugh. It was edged with nervous excitement. “Looks like he’s driving four friends out of town.”

“That’s what we’re hoping for.” More headlights loomed in the distance. They were weak and spread too wide for a car. It was Gideon, right on cue. And the yellow glow behind him assured me he was being followed. The truck rolled past with one of the Denton cars behind. Neal Denton, the eldest brother and leader, was always consistent. He never verged from the way he did things. In this business, it was never good to be predictable. I knew that they always went out in two cars, with the second car staying far enough behind that it could fall off and turn around if the first car was chased by the cops. Tonight was no different. Another pair of headlights popped up like the yellow eyes of a giant animal. I pushed the lever forward, and we coasted onto the road at a turtle’s pace hitting the path just ahead of the second car. The horn blew, and the driver had to slow not to slam into us. The cool night air ushered in through the open frame of the back window.

“Now, Bodhi.”

He rose up on his knees and leaned against the seat as he hurled the bottle out. It shattered. “Ha! Hit the grill,” Bodhi boasted.

“Good job. You’ve got their attention. Now take out the lights.”

Bodhi braced his elbow on the seat. The old truck waddled like a duck on the rough road, but he held his hand steady. “He’s pulling off to the side. Someone’s leaning out the passenger window with a gun,” he said without taking his eyes off the car behind us.

“What are you waiting for, Bodhi? Blind that fucking car.”

The shot went off close to my ear, leaving behind a ringing sound. Someone fired a round behind us, but it pinged off the back of the truck. Bodhi fired a second shot. Their headlights were gone.

“Well done.” I cut our lights too, dropping us all into darkness. “Hold on,” I said and turned the steering wheel sharply. We careened off the road. Bodhi bounced off the seat and smacked the dash. “Told you to hold on. Get ready. On three, jump out.”

Our momentum was slowed by the heavy brush as we rolled toward a copse of trees. “One, two, three.” I shoved open the driver’s door and jumped out. A quick somersault and I was on my feet. I glanced back. Bodhi was out and on the run too. The truck plowed headlong into a tangle of shrubs and stopped.

I dashed out of sight behind a tree just as the Denton car rolled up. Two men hopped out. I recognized one as Frank, the youngest Denton, and a big thickheaded cousin, who had been working with them for a long time. They pulled their guns and walked confidently toward the truck, showering it with a spray of gunfire. Bullets pinged off the chassis and splintered the wooden slats on the crates. Liquid dribbled out of the broken bottles.

“Stupid fucking fools!” Denton shouted toward the cab of the truck. His cousin pulled out a match box and lit a few. He tossed them into the back of the truck. They fell back to wait for the explosion. The match flames fizzled out.

In France, noisy footsteps meant death. I’d learned how to walk in just about any terrain without making a sound. I stepped quietly out from behind the tree and shoved a nail in the back tire of Denton’s car. I didn’t want the tire to blow all at once. It just needed a slow leak. Soundlessly, I walked up behind them. Frank felt the cold metal of my revolver barrel before he even knew I was there.

“You’d think a hundred-sixty proof white lightning would have made a bigger boom than that,” I quipped.

Frank’s cousin pointed his gun at me.

“I wouldn’t be too quick with that. You see, my little brother, Bodhi, the boy who just took out both of your headlights with two clean shots out of the back of our rather unsteady old truck, is out there with his gun pointed at you. You’ve probably heard the tale about him taking off a snake’s head at twenty yards? Well, he was only fifteen at the time. He’s gotten a lot better. Right now, he can see both of you, but from the looks on your faces, I’m going to guess that you can’t see him.”

Frank peered over at his cousin without turning his head away from the barrel of my gun. “Don’t just stand there, idiot. Go check those bottles.” His cousin hesitated as if he feared a delayed explosion.  He walked cautiously toward the back of the truck.

“Boom,” I said just sharply enough to startle him.

Frank sighed in disgust at his cousin’s cowardice. The man pulled out an unbroken jar and unscrewed the cap. He lifted it to his nose and then took a sip. “It’s water.”

“Fuck,” Frank muttered.

“You boys will probably want to get back on the road to chase down those forty crates of hooch. My brother and I aren’t going anywhere. You just made Swiss cheese out of my truck.” I lowered my gun to assure them that Bodhi had me covered. Of course, my brother was long gone down the road by then, but they didn’t need to know that. Sometimes an invisible threat was more effective than one standing directly in plain view.

“Come on,” Frank snarled to his cousin. They raced back to their car. I sat on the truck’s running board and waited for them to pull out onto the road, with a weeping tire and no headlights to guide them.

They roared past. I got up and ran along the side of the road. Two headlights popped on from the opposite side. I headed toward them. Noah was still behind the wheel, and Bodhi was riding shotgun. I pushed over one of our fake stick passengers and slid into the backseat.

Noah pulled the car back onto the road. “Gideon’s truck was blowing smoke out like a chimney.”

“Let’s hurry then. Bodhi, keep an eye out on that side, and I’ll keep watch on this side. We’ll probably see the smoke long before we see the cars.”

“The second car just went past,” Bodhi said. “How did you get away?”

“With your help, believe it or not, little brother. Your reputation as a sharpshooter saved my ass.”

Bodhi’s grin nearly split his face in two. Noah beamed proudly for his friend too.

A thin stream of smoke curled up from a dark patch of shrubs just off the road. The first Denton car was there too. Gunshots echoed through the night. “Turn off the lights, Noah,” I said. “Fuck, hope Gideon’s all right. Slow down. I’m getting out here. You boys drive on toward the bridge. That second car is moving slow and without lights and a bad tire. You know that loop of road that the farmers cleared for whenever this road gets flooded?”

“Sure I know it,” Noah said.

“Use that to get past the second car. Like I told you earlier, you drive the car halfway across the bridge then get out and run back. Hide down by the canal, and no stunts. You’ve both already earned your hero’s badges tonight. If this ends well, you’ll both have ten bucks in your pocket. Slow her down a bit, Noah.” I jumped out and rolled.

The gunfire had stopped and my gut knotted. I hoped I wasn’t too late. The truck overheating wasn’t part of the plan. I’d expected to meet up with Gideon, and we were both going to head to the bridge together.

I came up behind the Denton car. I counted three heads inside. Gideon’s truck was wedged in a ditch. Denton’s headlights illuminated the cab of the truck. I couldn’t see Gideon. As I rounded the passenger side of Denton’s car, the door swung open and someone climbed out.

I walked up and hit the back of his head with the butt of my pistol. He dropped like a sack of flour at my feet. The front passenger door flew open. It was Victor, the middle Denton brother. He swung around, and I smacked the pistol from his hand. He drew his arm back, but I ducked out of the way as it shot forward. He yelled out as his fist plowed through the car window.

An arm wrapped around my neck, choking off my air supply. It was the man I’d clobbered. His arm tightened on my throat as Victor pummeled my stomach with his bloodied fist. A familiar roar broke the night air, and the massive silhouette of my older brother suddenly loomed in the glow of the headlights. He was big, my brother, but he moved fast. His meaty hands grabbed Victor’s shoulders. Gideon swung him around and threw a punch. That was all it took. Victor collapsed to the ground.

Gideon swung around to pound the third man, Neal Denton, as he rounded the car with his revolver drawn. The sound of knuckles cracking bone and a grunt of pain followed. Neal was flat on his back. Gideon kicked the gun from his hand.

The lack of air was making it hard to focus, but I still had strength. I picked up my heel and brought it down hard on the man’s foot. He yelled out and lost his grip on me. I ducked out from under his arm. He rebounded quickly from the foot stomping, but his eyes bulged in fear as Gideon came up behind me. He ran. My leg shot out, and the man landed face first in the weeds. He struggled to push to his feet, but Gideon bopped him on the back of the head. His face hit the ground again. This time he didn’t get back up. Gideon looked back at me with a shrug.

“Did you see his face when you came up behind me?” I said. “You didn’t believe me when I told you that you were as ugly as a fucking warthog. I think his reaction to your mug proves my theory.”

“Shut up, and explain to me, genius, how the hell we’re supposed to get to the bridge? That truck is scrap metal now.”

I glanced at the Denton’s car. “Then I guess it’s lucky these nice gentlemen left us a fine set of wheels. I’ll let you drive.”