Fugitive Chase Read online

  About twenty yards in, he stopped to listen. At first, he didn’t hear anything other than the normal sounds of a forest at nighttime. Then he heard the squeak of branches shifting. It might just be the wind. Or it could be someone moving through the woods.

  Harry had not survived two tours in Afghanistan and nearly three years as a bounty hunter by assuming the best-case scenario. Better safe than sorry. Right now, he assumed the sounds he heard came from a person or persons. For his own safety, he needed to prepare for the idea that it was Linder or one of the other two armed goons rather than the woman.

  A sound like a small rockslide caught his attention. Someone was headed downhill in his direction, dislodging dirt and rocks along the way. He crouched down and waited. A few seconds later he heard more sounds of someone crashing through the woods. Then, looking through the night-vision binoculars, he saw her. The woman who’d run out of the cabin.

  He heard more footsteps and the sound of more branches snapping just a short distance away. And then more rocks and loosened dirt began to slide down the sloping ground. The men who were chasing her were closing in. Harry saw one of them, but where were the other two?

  Staying crouched, he moved to a spot where he could sit with his back pressed up against a tree. Then he cautiously stood up and took another look around. The woman was still moving forward, but not very quickly, her pace more like a jog. She was obviously getting tired, but she was almost to the spot where Harry silently waited for her. Unfortunately, they were not in a situation where he could politely walk up and introduce himself to her. With the bad guys so close on her heels, he was forced to sprint over and tackle her.

  Somebody in the forest opened fire just as Harry knocked the woman to the ground. The shots came from one direction, indicating a single shooter. The blasts tore bark off of tree trunks and sent jagged splinters of wood flying all around them.

  Harry shielded the woman’s body with his own, though she wasn’t making it easy for him. She squirmed and kicked and flailed, trying to push him off of her. He had her head tucked beneath his chest and he moved just a little so he could tell her, “I’m not one of them. I’m trying to help you.”

  She kept flailing a little longer, but she finally stopped. He couldn’t tell if she believed him or if she was just worn out.

  The shooting stopped. Harry heard a man’s voice saying, “What’s going on? Did you find her? Is it done?” The voice sounded tinny. Harry realized it was coming through the speaker on a walkie-talkie or a phone. That must be how the three pursuers were coordinating their chase.

  “I don’t know if I got her or not.” This voice was not transmitted over a line. It was someone standing close to them. Presumably the shooter. “Start moving in my direction.”

  “Is that Darrin Linder’s voice?” Harry whispered. “Is he the one who was shooting at us?”

  Eyes wide with fear, the woman nodded.

  Harry could hear the other two men tromping through the forest toward them. Harry looked down at the woman. They couldn’t stay here. They’d be found.

  He gestured at her to stay quiet, then he got up and helped her rise into a squat beside him. He pressed his phone and truck keys into her hand. Then he leaned toward her, his breath stirring her hair as he spoke close to her ear. “My truck is parked on the road.” He pointed in the direction where he’d left it. “Run for it and drive out of here as fast as you can. The cops are already on their way, but call 9-1-1 anyway and tell them shots were fired.”

  “What about you?” she asked.

  “I’ll lead them in the other direction.”

  She hesitated, so he gave her a little push. But before either of them could get moving, Harry heard the sound of several vehicles pulling up to a stop on the highway. Then he heard the sounds of communication over a police radio. Flashes of bright white from a high-power flashlight flickered through the trees.

  “Cops!” one of the men in the forest yelled.

  “This isn’t over, Ramona!” Darrin Linder called out. “You better make sure you keep your mouth shut! If you don’t, I’ll find you. I’ll silence you and your whole family. For good!”

  TWO

  “So, you really aren’t Darrin Linder’s girlfriend?” the bounty hunter asked Ramona. They were standing outside the cabin Darrin and his cohorts had used. Inside, a police investigation was now underway.

  “From the moment I first saw you, I thought you looked familiar,” he continued. He tilted his head and lifted his chin, looking down at her like didn’t quite believe her. “You look a lot like Jasmine Castillo.”

  Tired of being intimidated, Ramona met his suspicious gaze and held it.

  In the illumination from the porch light, she could see that the man who’d saved her life had dark blue eyes. She hadn’t been able to see what color they were in the darkness of the forest, but she had noticed that he was a big guy with a lot of muscle when he tackled her.

  Although she was aggravated with the suspicious look he was giving her, she had to admit she felt a tug of attraction to him. That could be due to the kindness he’d shown her despite his rough appearance, hinting at a personality with character and depth to it. Or perhaps it was the simple appeal of a man who’d been willing to risk his own life to save hers. He’d made her feel protected when she needed it most.

  Stop. She would not let her thoughts travel any further down that path.

  After a recent bout with pneumonia and a lengthy recovery, she’d taken inventory of her life, set some goals and made herself some promises. One of those promises was that she would try for a committed relationship—a genuine, lasting love. No more wasting her time with fixer-upper boyfriends or men who carried too much emotional baggage. She had a history with that kind of thing and had finally realized she was choosing relationships with lots of drama because they kept the focus on her partner and she never had to truly open her heart or be vulnerable.

  Her recent heath scare had reminded her that life was fleeting. She hoped to get married someday. She wanted a family. She’d decided she was finished playing games and she was ready to woman up and take her chances with a real, honest relationship. One with a future.

  The man standing in front of her was a bounty hunter. He no doubt lived on drama and chaos. The new Ramona, the one who was looking for a sane and stable relationship, was not going to allow herself be attracted to him. No, thank you.

  Forcing herself to look away from him, she glanced into the cabin where a pair of crime scene technicians were processing the area, searching for evidence. With them on the porch stood Sergeant Gabe Bergman, the officer who had taken Ramona’s statement while the bounty hunter and several officers searched the woods and the road for Linder and his partners. Unfortunately, as she’d learned when the bounty hunter had returned, the criminals had vanished.

  “I know I look like Jasmine,” she said wearily. She was tired of the questioning and the suspicion, but she was also just plain tired. And her lungs hurt. She was learning that it takes quite a while to completely heal from pneumonia. “Jasmine is my cousin,” she continued. “And she isn’t Darrin’s girlfriend. Not anymore. She broke up with him a month ago. My name is Ramona Miller.”

  The bounty hunter glanced at Sergeant Bergman.

  “She’s telling you the truth,” the sergeant responded. He’d seen her identification when she’d given her statement describing what had happened. One of the crime scene techs stepped out of the cabin, beckoned to the sergeant, and Bergman walked over to talk to her, leaving Ramona and the bounty hunter alone.

  “So, who exactly are you?” she asked him.

  “Harry Orlansky. My boss put up the bond that got Darrin Linder out of jail. He skipped his court date, so I was planning on dragging him back to lockup. Now that he’s fired shots at us, I am that much more motivated to catch him and throw him back behind bars where he belongs.”


  Feeling a flush of irritation, Ramona crossed her arms over her chest. “He should never have been let out to begin with.”

  “A judge thought otherwise,” Harry said evenly. “I tried to contact your cousin and get her to help me find Linder. She ignored my voice mails and text messages. They might not be as broken up as you think they are. I believe she’s protecting him.”

  “I doubt that very much.” Ramona took a deep breath and blew it out, trying to push away the heavy weight of frustration and despair that settled on her shoulders whenever she thought about her cousin.

  Jasmine had a heart of gold, but she also had emotional issues after her dad fled town with another woman, abandoning her and her mom back when Jasmine was just twelve. She didn’t always make good decisions, and she didn’t handle stress very well. Getting messages from a bounty hunter had probably freaked her out, even though she did want Darrin caught and locked up. Unfortunately, it had become her habit to ignore a problem and hope it somehow fixed itself.

  A police officer walked toward them from the resort’s office building with a young man alongside him. Sergeant Bergman stepped forward and the two lawmen met near where Harry and Ramona were standing.

  “The desk clerk has some information on the man who rented the cabin,” the officer said.

  Ramona felt a spark of hope. Maybe Darrin was about to get caught.

  The clerk described Darrin’s skinny, stringy-haired cohort as the renter. He’d registered under the name Albert Mason, saying he would be the only guest and that he would be staying for a single night. He’d registered one vehicle.

  The resort required a credit card number to book a stay in case there were damages to the cabin, but the man only had cash. The clerk had made a quick call to the property owner and an agreement was reached for a nonrefundable damage deposit of a hundred dollars, paid up front, with the proviso that “Albert” agreed to let the clerk inspect the cabin for damages before he checked out tomorrow morning.

  Using the computer in his unmarked patrol car, Sergeant Bergman quickly determined that the home address, driver’s license information, cell phone number and license plate number Albert gave the clerk were all fake.

  Security in the resort’s office was nearly nonexistent, with only one low-quality video camera in the lobby and no cameras outside the building. The officer who interviewed the clerk already had the evening’s security footage downloaded onto his tablet. He played the segment of video that covered the time span of when Albert was in the office. There was no clear image of Albert’s face.

  “Weak security is probably the reason they chose this property instead of a hotel,” Harry said.

  “But why would they need to rent a cabin at all?” Ramona asked. She turned to Sergeant Bergman. “Those duffel bags I told you about were filled with drugs and guns. Darrin admitted as much. I think that Darrin and the other two men were here to meet someone—maybe a buyer. But why not do that out in the woods where nobody could see them?”

  “It would be too easy for either one of the parties to set up an ambush,” the sergeant answered. “A shooter could hide in the shadows, kill everybody on the opposite side of the transaction and then leave with everything—the money and the goods. Happens all the time with drug deals. Places like these cabins or hotel rooms allow for privacy but still have the protection of enclosed spaces and potential witnesses if things get out of hand. They encourage all the players to keep their behavior under control.”

  Ramona shook her head. “I can’t imagine living that kind of life.” It was unnerving to think of Darrin that way when he’d nearly been part of their family. Darrin had been invited to family gatherings. He’d shared family meals with Ramona, her parents and Jasmine’s mom, Valerie. And then he’d turned on them.

  Fear, cold and clammy, slithered in the pit of her stomach. She shivered and rubbed her hands over her arms. Great, now she was cold inside and out.

  “You all right?” the sergeant asked. “I can take you to the hospital to get checked out.”

  “No, thank you, I’m fine.” Physically, Ramona was all right. Emotionally, she was starting to unravel.

  Sergeant Bergman got a call over his radio. “Be careful,” he said to Ramona before he walked toward his car to take the call.

  The clerk was already headed back toward his office. The cop who’d interviewed him walked toward the cabin where the crime scene techs were still at work.

  Ramona was left standing alone with the bounty hunter. She exhaled and watched the small cloud of vapor drift away on the cold night air, wondering if she should tell her parents what had happened or if she should keep it to herself so they wouldn’t worry.

  “I’ll drive you home,” Harry said.

  “My car is parked down the road a short distance away. I’ll be fine.”

  “You’ve been through a lot—you probably shouldn’t be driving. I’ll bring you back to get your car tomorrow morning.”

  His stubborn insistence was annoying. But if it hadn’t been for him, Darrin would have caught up with her in the forest. He probably would have shot and killed her.

  “Thank you for saving my life,” she said.

  He shrugged. “Mostly I was just focused on saving myself.”

  That wasn’t true. And that hint of self-deprecating humor behind the man’s obvious strength and capability made her curious about him.

  “Before I take you home, would you be willing to go back to the bail bond office with me?” Harry asked. “You could meet some of the people I work with and help us come up with ideas on how to find Linder.”

  “The police are already doing everything possible to find him.”

  “Yes.” Harry nodded. “They have their way of hunting for somebody and I have mine. Both ways can work, but if I find him first, I get paid.”

  Well, he certainly had motive for finding Darrin as quickly as possible. And wasn’t that what she wanted?

  A rustling sound in the forest startled her. After a moment, she realized it was just the breeze rustling the tree branches. Still, for a few seconds her heart raced at the thought that it might be Darrin. He’d issued threats before, but now he seemed focused on coming after her and her family.

  “Okay,” she said to Harry. “I’ll go with you. I’ll do everything I can to help put Darrin Linder behind bars where he belongs.”

  * * *

  “We won’t stop looking for Linder until he’s in custody,” Cassie Wheeler, the owner of Rock Solid Bail Bonds, assured Ramona. The bondswoman cast a glance at Harry. “For one thing, he fired shots at my bounty hunter. He could have killed him. Do you have any idea how tedious and time-consuming it is to hire and train a new bounty hunter?”

  Harry lifted an eyebrow. “It’s good to be appreciated.”

  Joking aside, he knew that Cassie truly cared about her employees. She’d grown up in the business, inheriting it from her father, and she treated her employees like family. If she hadn’t been in the middle of coordinating the recovery of another felon when Harry called tonight, Cassie probably would have shown up on the scene ahead of the cops.

  Cassie tucked her straight, strawberry blond hair behind her ears. That was typically a sign that she was getting serious.

  “You sure you’re all right?” Cassie asked Ramona, putting her hands on her hips and wearing the expression that Harry thought of as her interrogation look. “Because you don’t look like you’re all right.”

  “I think the reality of nearly getting killed tonight is sinking in,” Ramona said. “But I want to be here. I want to help put a stop to Darrin’s drug dealing and violence. I want to keep my family safe.”

  Ramona was obviously a strong woman. Harry had always been attracted to strong women. A familiar ache began to blossom in his chest as his thoughts turned toward his late wife, Willa. She’d been gone three years now. Some days it felt like thirty
years. Other days, it felt like he’d been talking with her just a few hours ago.

  He let his gaze travel back to Ramona.

  Willa had been tall, blond, blue-eyed and freckled. Ramona was average height, with dark hair and hazel eyes. But there was something achingly familiar in the way she straightened her shoulders and set her chin as she stated her commitment to protecting her family.

  Harry brushed the thought aside. It didn’t matter what Ramona looked like or what kind of character she had. So what if she was the most interesting woman Harry had met in a long time? He was not looking to replace Willa. His late wife deserved better. She had been unfailingly faithful and supportive during the four short years of their marriage, even though much of that time had been while he was deployed overseas.

  Willa had been loyal to him. How could he not remain loyal to her?

  “We appreciate your willingness to help us,” Cassie said to Ramona. “You’ve met Harry, obviously. The gentleman standing in the doorway is Leon Bragg.”

  Ramona looked over at the big guy, a little older than Harry, who stood at the front of the hallway that led to a couple of smaller offices and a breakroom. “Nice to meet you,” Leon said politely.

  “We have another bounty hunter who works out of this office. His name is Martin Silverdeer, but he isn’t here right now,” Cassie added.

  “Where is Martin?” Harry directed his question to Leon.

  “Getting the offender we captured earlier this evening checked in at county lockup.” He threw Harry a triumphant half smile filled with the promise of a detailed description of how the arrest went down sometime later.

  They’d all been standing, but now Cassie moved toward a mahogany-colored leather sofa and matching easy chairs. “Let’s sit.”

  Harry appreciated Cassie’s willingness to invest in decent furniture for the office. It was nice for a man his size to be able to drop down onto a chair and not have to worry about breaking it. The office had a Western look with bold colors, pine desks and tables, and calming paintings of local rivers and mountains hanging on the walls. On especially rough days, the homey feel made the job a little bit easier.