Tennessee Takedown (6 page)

She heard the laughter in his voice, but his teasing reminder about keeping watch had her blinking her eyes and looking toward the cave entrance again. How could she have forgotten about Iceman out there searching for her? Supposedly he needed her alive, for whatever purpose he had in mind, but she wasn’t so sure he was going to stick to that dictate now that she’d shot him in the shoulder.

“I’ll help you keep watch,” she whispered. “There’s no way I can sleep knowing those men are looking for us. As for the accommodations, no worries. This won’t be the first time I’ve slept in a cave.”

* * *

“Y
OU
’
VE
SLEPT
IN
a cave before?” Dillon was both surprised and curious to know what circumstances would make her
want
to sleep in a cave. When he’d seen her in a conservative gray skirt and matching suit jacket this morning, she hadn’t struck him as the outdoors, camping type. And he’d noticed the reluctance in her eyes when she contemplated sitting on the rotten hull of a tree earlier so he could bandage her cuts. Getting dirty or risking a bug or two crawling on her would probably go in her auditor column of negatives instead of positives.

Apparently he’d have to wait for the answer to his question. Her breaths had grown deep and even. She’d already fallen asleep. He couldn’t help but smile. She’d probably be horrified to realize she’d fallen asleep after declaring she would help him keep watch. Not that he wanted her help. Her bravery in the face of danger had already scared the hell out of him today. Twice.

Most women he knew—heck, most
men
he knew—wouldn’t approach an armed man unless they were armed, too. Ashley had done that twice in one day, both times to try to help him. He hadn’t needed her help, but she hadn’t realized that. She thought he was in trouble and had jumped right in, with no thought for her own safety.

That kind of bravery was rare, but it was also dangerous. Sometimes jumping in to help someone wasn’t the best option, and it was more likely to get them hurt, or killed. Hopefully she’d never have to learn that lesson the hard way.

Like he had.

He shied away from those thoughts. Those memories were better left buried and taken out when his only company was a bottle of Jack Daniel’s.

He settled more comfortably against the hard rock wall, wishing the storm would hurry and break. His men were probably out in the rain right now looking for him since he hadn’t checked back in after his last call-out. Once they found his Jeep and saw the deep ruts the truck had left beside the river, they’d figure out at least part of what had happened. He just prayed they’d figure it out before the gunmen realized he and Ashley were holed up in this cave.

If he’d been stranded on Cooper’s Bluff by himself, he wouldn’t hide. He’d go on the offensive, sneak up behind his pursuers. But with an innocent civilian to worry about, that wasn’t an option. If something happened to him, Ashley would be left alone to fend for herself. That wasn’t a risk he was willing to take.

She whimpered and jerked against him in her sleep, and mumbled something that sounded like “Iceman.” He rubbed his hand up and down her arm, trying to soothe her, but she continued to toss and turn. Feeling helpless and rusty in the ways of comforting a woman, he whispered nonsensical words to her, much like he did to his horses back home when they were agitated. To his chagrin, she immediately calmed down and relaxed against his side. He had a feeling if she ever found out he’d treated her like a horse, she wouldn’t be a bit pleased.

Several hours later, the storm finally relinquished its hold on Cooper’s Bluff. Thunder rumbled only occasionally now in the distance, and the flashes of lightning were replaced with the first rays of sunlight filtering into the cave. He could pick out details now, like Ashley’s curly brown hair falling across her face as she lay against his chest. However, the arrival of dawn was not something to celebrate.

Because the blood drops from Ashley’s wounds were now visible to their pursuers.

This was the moment he’d dreaded. It had been too dark last night to be sure he’d wrapped her feet well enough to prevent the blood trail from giving their location away. And although he didn’t think he’d broken any branches and he’d kept them walking on hard ground as much as he could, it was impossible not to leave some evidence of their passing in the damp earth. Staying in the cave was no longer a safe option. They’d have to take their chances on the run again.

He gently shook her. “Ashley, wake up.”

She mumbled in her sleep and lightly punched his arm. Apparently she wasn’t a morning person.

He shook her again. “Wake up. We have to—”

A loose rock shifted at the entrance.

Dillon dove in front of Ashley as a gunman stepped into the cave.

Chapter Six

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Chris Downing raised his hands in the air, his pistol pointing up toward the roof of the cave. “You aren’t still mad about Becky Abrams, are you? That was twelfth grade, man.”

Dillon lowered his gun. “For the record, Becky slept with you because she knew I wasn’t interested.”

“Ouch.” Chris grinned and holstered his weapon. “Looks like you’re in one piece, but your lady friend could use a doctor. What happened to her feet?”

Ashley had slumped over but was still sound asleep with her head pillowed on her arm. Dillon winced when he saw the bright red splotches on her bandages.

“I didn’t realize the cuts were that bad. We had to run halfway across the island and she didn’t have any shoes.” He looked past Chris to the cave opening. “Did you come alone?”

“Randy and Max came with me, but they’re following a trail some clueless city slickers made. Two sets of footprints slogging through mud, broken branches all over the place. Whoever left that trail must have run through the woods like a herd of cattle in a stampede.”

“I don’t think they were worried about leaving a trail. Make sure Randy and Max know the men they’re following are armed and extremely dangerous.”

“We all kind of figured that when we found the truck tangled up in the downed tree with the passenger window shot out.”

“When are they supposed to report in?”

He checked his watch. “About six more minutes.”

Dillon debated whether to wait for their call or retrieve his men right now so he could get Ashley off the island. She needed those feet tended to, might even need stitches. But if the men who were after her got away, she would still be in danger if they decided to come after her again. And next time, she might not be lucky enough to have a friend call the police.

She mumbled in her sleep and shifted position.

“You going to tell me what happened?” Chris asked. “We know you responded to a nine-one-one call to check on Miss Parrish, but never called to make a report.”

“You found my Jeep?”

He nodded. “After a search up and down Little River Road, we started searching side roads until we found your car. We found tire tracks by the river, along with your jacket. Since the river had rapids last night an Olympic white-water rafter wouldn’t dare try, I’m pretty sure I have to be wrong about what it looks like you did. Because no one with any brains in his head would have gone for a swim in that river, not in that storm. That would have been a suicide mission.”

“Apparently not, since I’m still here.”

Chris cursed. “You, of all people, know how dangerous a rain-swollen river can—”

“Don’t,” Dillon rasped, his fists clenching at his sides. “Don’t you dare go there.”

They stood nose to nose, each of them staring the other one down. Finally, Chris backed up and held his hands out in a placating gesture.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

Dillon let out the breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. He gave Chris a curt nod and forced his fists to relax.

Chris held his hand out. Dillon clasped it and Chris hauled him to his feet.

“Why didn’t you call for backup?” Chris asked.

“I couldn’t. My cell phone wouldn’t work. I’m pretty sure the man who drove that truck had a cell phone jammer.”

“A cell phone jammer? Fill in the gaps, boss man,” Chris insisted.

“When I got to Miss Parrish’s house, a man took off with her in a truck. I followed them and tried to call for backup, but the call wouldn’t go through. I figured the signal was jammed but I couldn’t risk falling back far enough to get a clear signal. I would have lost them. I followed them to the bridge, where the fool driver ended up in the water.”

“Who shot the window out?”

“I did. I tried to pull Miss Parrish out the window before the truck slid the rest of the way into the river.”

Chris crossed his arms. “And you thought it was a good idea to jump in? The river was too rough last night for us to risk taking the boat out, but you went for a frickin’ swim.”

“I told you. I didn’t have a choice.”

Chris’s answering frown told Dillon what his friend thought of that statement.

“Regardless, when I got on the island the man who’d abducted her was tying her up. I managed to handcuff one of his wrists when another man came out of the woods and got the drop on me. You pretty much know the rest. We ran and hid in the cave.”

“Tell me about these guys.”

“I can’t say much for the second guy, didn’t get a good look at him. But the first one, the one who abducted Miss Parrish, he was hardcore, stone-cold dangerous, focused on his mission.”

“He must not have been too focused, since you two are still alive.”

Dillon shook his head. “He wasn’t trying to kill us, or at least, he wasn’t trying to kill her. He could have done that back at her house. His goal last night was to kidnap her.”

“Any clue why?”

“Not yet.”

“I don’t suppose it occurred to you it’s a heck of a coincidence that Miss Parrish was involved in two different shootings in one day?”

“I’ve thought of little else since last night. There’s got to be a connection. Either that or she’s the world’s most unlucky accountant ever.”

“I’m hoping for bad luck, personally,” a feminine voice interjected. “Seems to be the lesser of two evils.”

Dillon and Chris turned to see Ashley sitting up, shoving her hair out of her face.

Chris stepped over to her and offered his hand. “I’m Chris, in case you forgot. We met at Gibson and Gibson yesterday morning.”

“I remember. I’d say nice to see you again, but I’d be lying. No offense.” She shook his hand.

He laughed. “None taken.”

A sound near the entrance had Dillon standing protectively in front of Ashley while Chris drew his gun.

“Police,” a voice called out. Seconds later, Max and Randy stepped into view.

Chris holstered his weapon.

“You didn’t find them,” Dillon said, disappointment heavy in his voice.

“No. Looks like they had a boat on the east side of the island at the community dock. They must have left some time during the night, or maybe early this morning before we got here. We didn’t hear a boat motor.”

Dillon introduced Max and Randy to Ashley. “Destiny’s a pretty small town, so our police officers fill many roles. Max, Randy and Chris—like me—are detectives and SWAT, when needed. They were at the office shooting yesterday, too.”

Ashley waved and offered a small smile.

Dillon noted the light flush of embarrassment on her face and the way her eyes slid longingly toward the entrance. He had a pretty good idea he knew why. “Where’d you moor the boat?” he asked Max, meaning the police boat.

“Back side of the island, about a hundred yards due west, by the old Cub Scout campground.”

“You guys go ahead. Miss Parrish and I will catch up in a few minutes. I need to ask her a question.”

The men filed out and Dillon squatted down beside Ashley. “Can you walk?”

She nodded and started to push herself up. But the moment she put her weight on her feet, she gasped and fell back.

Dillon caught her and scooped her up in his arms, cradling her against his chest. “That’s what I thought. We’ll get you to a doctor first thing.” He carried her out of the cave and set her down on a boulder near some bushes.

She glanced up, her eyes questioning. “I thought we were going to a boat.”

“I figured your bladder might be suffering the same as mine after spending the night sleeping in a cave. And I didn’t think you’d want to bump around in a boat without taking a quick break first. These bushes should offer you some privacy.”

Her face turned a light shade of pink. “You’re right. Thank you.”

He bent down at eye level with her. “Do you need me to hold you up? I promise I won’t look.”

She shook her head back and forth, her face turning a darker shade of red. “No, thank you. I’ll manage, somehow. Just give me a few minutes. Please.”

“All right. I won’t be far. Call out if you need me.” He watched her hobble over behind the bushes, her face a mask of pain every time she took a step. When he was satisfied she wasn’t going to fall on her face, he hurried off to give her the promised privacy, and to answer nature’s call himself.

A few minutes later, he found Ashley sitting back on the boulder, her face still flushed a delightful shade of pink.

“Ready?” he asked.

She nodded, and he scooped her up in his arms again.

When they reached the boat, Chris gave them a curious glance but didn’t say anything. Dillon set Ashley in the forward seat on the port side, a few feet from Chris’s position at the wheel, while he and Randy took up positions on the benches that ran along the port and starboard sides. Max untied the mooring line from the back of the boat and Chris eased it out into the river.

Noting Ashley’s curious glance at the fishing poles lying in the middle bottom of the boat, Dillon explained, “Destiny’s residents don’t figure their tiny police force needs a fancy speedboat like some of the bigger cities have. This old fishing boat might not be fast or fancy, but it’s sturdy, and generally suits our needs.”

“Understandable, but why the fishing poles?”

Chris half turned and grinned. “Those are mine. I like to be prepared for emergencies.”

“Is there such thing as a fishing emergency?”

“Of course. You never know when the fish will be biting.” He turned the boat upriver, the glassy, smooth surface nothing like the roiling, raging death trap from last night.

“I can see that accountant’s mind whirling now,” Dillon teased. “You’re wondering if Chris compensates the department for use of the boat, and the fuel.”

“I was doing nothing of the sort.”

“Sure you were.”

She narrowed her eyes and turned to face the front as Chris steered the boat around a curve in the river.

Damage from the storm was far worse than Dillon had expected. White birch and oak trees had given up their fight and lay on their sides in several areas along the bank, broken branches trailing in the water, causing little eddies as the current swirled around them.

The guttural sound of a powerful engine roaring to life had Dillon whirling around.

“Look out,” Ashley shouted. She lunged toward Chris and knocked him to the floor of the boat just as a shot rang out. The windshield in front of the pilot’s chair exploded into a spiderweb, right where Chris’s head had been seconds ago.

He blinked in shock at Ashley.

“Keep her down,” Dillon ordered. Chris immediately covered Ashley with his body.

Dillon fired three quick shots at the gunman aiming at them from the speedboat on the other side of the river. It was coming up fast, directly toward them. Baldy was at the wheel. Iceman was beside him, taking potshots at the police boat.

“Grab the wheel, Randy,” Dillon ordered as he and Max fired several more shots at the speedboat.

Randy ducked down and made his way around Chris and Ashley to steer the boat.

The speedboat accelerated.

Dillon cursed. “Make this thing move! Max, lay down cover fire. I’m going to try to pick off Baldy.”

Max pulled the trigger, but the gun was empty. He tossed it to the floor. “Chris, gun!”

Chris tossed his pistol to Max, who caught it and whirled back around, shooting round after round.

Iceman dove to the floor of the speedboat, leaving the driver vulnerable.

“Who’s Baldy?” Max yelled.

Dillon steadied his gun and took one very careful shot.
Boom!

“He’s history,” Dillon gritted out.

Baldy slumped over the wheel and the speedboat turned hard to the port side, spinning out of control without someone to steer it. His body slid off the seat and the engine choked, then stopped. The boat bounced on its own wake and started drifting on the current.

“Cease fire,” Dillon ordered. “Randy, bring the boat around. Max, stay alert.”

Max stayed on his knees, aiming his gun toward the side of the speedboat, waiting for the other shooter to emerge again.

Dillon glanced at Chris, still covering Ashley. “Both of you okay?”

Ashley’s wide-eyed gaze peeked out from beneath Chris’s shoulder. She gave Dillon a tentative nod.

“Thanks to Miss Parrish, I didn’t get my head blown off,” Chris responded, his voice sounding raw.

Dillon tightened his hold on his gun and focused on the speedboat. Randy shut off the engine and let the fishing boat drift up to the side.

Max and Dillon aimed their guns into the floor of the boat.

Empty.

They glanced at each other in surprise, then both jumped into the boat.

“Where the heck did he go?” Max asked. He hurried over to the driver’s body and felt his neck for a pulse, then shook his head.

Dillon stared out over the smooth, dark surface of the river. “My guess, he went into the water and swam to shore.” He looked back at the police boat, a slow, lumbering beast. “Start making calls. Get the state police to put a chopper in the air and get another boat out here. Make sure they know a shooter might be in the woods. They’ll need to stop short of this location and hike the rest of the way in. Have the Blount County coroner meet me at Cooper’s Bluff Bridge, or what’s left of it. And get a BOLO out on our missing shooter.”

He gave Max a quick, detailed description for the be-on-the-lookout announcement that would go out to every law enforcement agency in the county, from Cades Cove to Rockford, as well as neighboring counties. “Max, put a personal call out to Chief Massey at Bitterwood P.D. over in Ridge County, too. Bitterwood’s small enough and close enough to appeal to a gunman on foot trying to evade police.”

Max nodded and grabbed his cell phone.

Dillon hopped back into the police boat. “I’ve got her now,” he told Chris.

As soon as Chris moved out of the way, Dillon scooped Ashley up again and hurried with her to the speedboat. He set her on the floor. “Lie down. Don’t sit up. Iceman’s still out there.”

She didn’t answer. She was too busy staring at Baldy lying lifeless a few feet away.

“Don’t look at him. Close your eyes.”

She squeezed her eyes shut.