Gambling On a Heart (39 page)

“You forgive me?” The words were as shaky as a blade of grass in a twister.

“Yeah. I do.” He slid his hand along her nape. They leaned in at the same time, and he kissed her. She wrapped her arms round his neck as he wrapped her up. He cursed the console between them and Jake Parker for a multitude of sins, least of them being kidnapping her son.

When the gentle kiss ended, she pulled away, biting her lower lip. Her eyes locked on his. “I love you, Zack. I never stopped loving you. I would never have married Jake, if I hadn’t...”

He touched her lips with a finger to forestall her words. “Later. We’ll talk about this later. Just know I love you. And I forgive you. I have some confessions to make, too. But first we need to get Bobby back.”

Before she could question him, the police radio buzzed to life. He let her go and answered the call, thankful for the distraction. The coward in him didn’t want to tell her just how ruthless he’d been to his dead wife by marrying her when he’d never completely given her his heart. Clearing his throat, he spoke into the handset. “What is it, Madison?”

“Just got a call from the Austin PD. They spotted the suspects heading south on I-35.”

He glanced at Tracy. She worried her lower lip again. Taking her hand into his, he squeezed it. “Ten-four, I need to drop Tracy off at the ranch, and I’ll head to Austin.”

“Come back to the station. Wyatt says you can go with him.”

“Ten-four, I’ll be there ASAP. Keep me posted.” He signed off and put the Tahoe in gear.

When they passed the turn off to Oak Springs fifteen minutes later, Tracy looked at him. “Where are you going?”

He glanced at her. “I’m taking you over to the CW. Logan’s there with Mandy. I don’t want you to be alone tonight.”

“You don’t mind Logan and me... After what Jake–”

“No. I know he’s your friend, but it’s more than that.” He thought about the diamond ring in his jeans pocket. “I think he’s appointed himself our own personal cupid.”

He looked at her in time to see her weak smile. “I think you’re probably right. Logan came to me the day you announced you were engaged to Lisa.” Her smile faltered as she clenched her hands in her lap. “He wanted me to leave Jake. To come after you.”

His heart stuttered a few times. “Why didn’t you?”

She was quiet for so long, he didn’t expect her to answer. A few minutes later when he turned onto his road, he looked over at her and captured her gaze for as long as he could hold it.

“I just had Bobby and I couldn’t take my baby away from his father.” Her voice came from the depths of her soul, dragged over jagged and broken pieces. “How could I ever expect you to raise Jake’s baby without resentment? How could I ever ask you to forgive me when I hardly forgave myself?”

He had to make up for all of the wrongs he’d done. It may be too late for Lisa, but he’d been given another chance to have a future with Tracy. First, he had to deal with Jake Parker. “If it’s the last thing I ever do, I’ll bring Bobby home.”
And be the best father possible to him.

Chapter 19

The middle-aged Hispanic man peered from Zack to Wyatt over his thick glasses, suspicion almost palpable in his dark eyes. Zack knew they both looked like horses that had been ridden hard and put away wet. A day’s worth of beard darkened their faces and neither of them had changed from the clothes they’d worn the previous night.

Zack was certain the manager wondered if they were really who they said they were, despite the badges pinned to their Western shirts and the IDs they’d flashed.

Enrique Ramirez, the manager of the McDonald’s in San Marcos, took only a moment to study the pictures of Jake and Brent. “
Si.
They were in here about a half hour ago. That’s why I called the police. I saw the Amber Alert come over TV before I came to work last night.”

Zack met Wyatt’s gaze. They were close. When the police call came in, they’d been just south of San Marcos. They were close enough to turn back and check out the lead.

“Was the boy with them?”

One of the hardest things Zack had to do was let Wyatt ask Ramirez the questions. Wyatt had jurisdiction, since he was a Texas Ranger. Despite Zack’s personal reasons for wanting to find the boy who had slowly stolen his heart and the man who had stolen the only woman he’d ever loved, Zack was just along for the ride. With a hand that he consciously had to steady, Zack handed the manager the wallet-sized photo Tracy had given him earlier.

“No,
Señor.
” Ramirez handed the picture back, but held onto the other two and tapped Jake’s photo. “This one looked like he was in a fight. He seemed mad that the drive-thru was closed. He kept pulling on his hat brim. You know, as if he was trying to hide his face. But I recognized it. And this one...” He pointed to Brent’s picture. “He stood back and let the other man do all the talking. But he couldn’t stand still and kept looking around. They got gas from the station next door and left. I never saw the boy.”

After thanking the man for his time, they headed back to Zack’s Tahoe. Zack turned the key to start the air conditioning flowing. Not even six AM, but the day promised to be hot. He glanced at the Texas Ranger. “I don’t think they stayed on I-35.”

Wyatt looked around before meeting Zack’s gaze. “You know Jake better than I do. What do you think he’d do?”

Zack stared out the windshield. The McDonald’s was close to the interstate and Guadalupe Street, a main street through the city of San Marcos, but off the beaten path enough not to be the first choice of an investigating team. Most criminals would have gone straight for the border, the fastest route to freedom. Jake would manipulate the system by doing what wasn’t expected.

He looked back at Wyatt. “Open the glove box and get that map out of there.” Once Wyatt had the state map open and folded to a manageable size, zeroing in on the south-central half of Texas, Zack pointed to the junction of I-35 and Guadalupe Street. He tapped on the line representing State Route 123. “He’d take this south. We know the Blackwells have distant cousins in Monterrey. It would make sense for him to head there.”

“Yeah.” Wyatt tilted his head to study the map. “Mrs. Parker told me last night she was afraid he’d go there.”

Zack tapped the map again. “I think we should let the state boys and the FBI chase down I-35 in case I’m wrong. But we should take this hunch and head down 123 to I-10 or US-90. I’d bet the ranch, he’ll hit Seguin and then take US-90 across…” He slid his finger over the wrinkled map. “To meet up with US-83 then US-57 on the other side of San Antonio. It would keep him off the major interstates and make it easier for him to find a way across the border. I’ll call the Guadalupe County sheriff and give them a heads up.”

“Sounds like the logical thing for him to do.” Wyatt stared at the map a little while longer before he folded it back up. “Do you suppose Johnny Blackwell would have gone to these distant cousins, too?”

Zack shrugged and put the SUV into gear. “It’s possible. But my biggest concern is finding Bobby.” When he slipped out onto Guadalupe Street, he looked at his friend and forced between clenched teeth, “Then you’ll have to make sure I don’t kill that lying bastard Jake Parker.”

* * * *

The sun shone through the windows of the truck when Bobby woke up. Brent drove the truck, and his dad was asleep in the passenger side. The aroma of breakfast sandwiches and coffee filled the air, reminding him that he was hungry even before his belly growled.

“Hey, T-Rex.” Brent looked at him through his reflection in the rearview mirror.

“Mornin’, Uncle Brent.” He peered out the side window. The two-lane road wasn’t the interstate. Miles of open ranchland stretched ahead of the flat strip of road. “Where are we? And what time is it?”

“Heading south. It’s just a little past six.” Brent glanced at him again. “You hungry? We stopped for gas in San Marcos, and I talked your dad into getting breakfast.”

Bobby nodded, but Brent had already looked back at the road. “Yeah.” He moved to the middle and leaned between the seats. The bright sunlight glittered off the gun lying on the console. “Why are you taking me with you?”

Instead of answering, Brent dug around in a McDonald’s bag. He held up a sandwich. “Here. You better eat. Hard to tell when we’ll get a chance again.”

Bobby took the wrapped egg and sausage sandwich. Brent then handed him a large soda. As he took a sip, Brent turned to look at him. “Don’t drink too much. Stopping to piss ain’t gonna happen anytime soon, if your dad has any say.”

He nodded and sat back in the seat again. He placed the cup in a beverage holder, greedily unwrapped the sandwich, and took a bite of the cold egg and spicy sausage on soggy English muffin.

Surely, they’d have to stop if he had to go to the bathroom bad enough. Brent would, as long as Dad was still asleep. He laid the sandwich back on the wrapper in his lap and picked up the drink.

Ten minutes later, Bobby couldn’t sit still. “Uncle Brent, I have to go to the bathroom.”

Brent looked over his shoulder at him. “Aw, shit, Bobby. I told you not to drink it all.”

“I didn’t.” He hadn’t needed to drink the whole soda; he’d only a few sips before he had to pee. He held up the large paper cup to prove his point. “But I haven’t gone to the bathroom since last night and I–”

“Alright.” Brent shoved a hand through his hair and glanced over at Dad. He was still sleeping in the reclined front seat. “We’re goin’ through Seguin. A diner is up ahead and they look open. You can go there.”

Brent pulled into the parking lot of the family restaurant. Bobby glanced anxiously at his dad as he eased open the door. Dad shifted in his sleep, but didn’t wake up. Bobby jumped out of the truck, leaving the door open a little. He didn’t want the slam to wake up his father. Brent followed him out of the truck and grabbed his arm.

“Stay behind me. Keep your head down and don’t look at anyone or say anything.” As Brent looked around and tugged at the bill of his baseball cap over his forehead, he muttered, “Jake’s gonna kill me.”

As they headed across the parking lot, a man and a woman got into a SUV. The woman turned to talk to the little kid on her hip and glanced his way. She met his gaze, and Bobby was close enough to see the woman furrow her brow. When her eyes widened, she said something to the man. He stopped opening the driver’s door and looked over at Bobby. When the man pulled his cell phone from his pocket, Bobby nodded and smiled.

The must have recognized him from the news.

He followed his uncle into the diner with a silent prayer on his lips.

Zack, if you’re looking, please come get me.

* * * *

The truck had stopped moving. Jake sat up and peered out the window at the bright yellow wall of a building. He cursed and looked around for Brent and Bobby. Neither of them was in the truck. The stink of fry grease was definitely not from the lingering scent of Egg and Sausage McMuffins and strong coffee.

Both doors on the driver’s side were open enough to let in the noise of the busy street and the tinny sound of Mariachi music piped through a sound system into the parking lot. Jake grabbed the .45 from the console and shoved it into his jeans.

Hot rage replaced the stiffness and pain from Logan’s beating and from driving all night as he got out of the truck. His knee was swollen from where Logan had gotten a kick in, and he cursed the bastard again. He limped around the corner, warily keeping his hat brim down as he looked around at the few vehicles in front of the building. The sign out front proclaimed it Rosalita’s Family Restaurant.

Jake entered the glass door and blinked a few times to help his eyes adjust to the darker interior of the restaurant. Brent stood in a hallway behind the salad bar. The frilly sign above said, “Restrooms.”

An older woman approached and asked cheerfully in a strong Mexican accent, “Just one?”

He ignored the question and pushed past her to head for his brother. With widened eyes and a gapping pie hole, Brent took a step back when he noticed him. “Jake.”

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Brent spread his hands and stuttered, “B-bobby had to piss. He begged me to stop.”

“You’re an idiot,” he snarled and headed into the door marked
Mens
.

He found Bobby standing at the sink washing his hands. The boy jerked with shock when he saw him. “Dad. You’re up.”

The brat was up to something. He grabbed Bobby by the shoulder and yanked so hard the kid yelped in pain. “C’mon, we’re getting the hell out of here before someone calls the cops.”