Maverick Read online

  © 2012 by CJ Snyder

  Cover design by Jennifer Zane

  Printed in the United States of America

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of the author. The only exception is brief quotations in published reviews.

  Dedication

  This one’s for you, my Rufus. Thanks for your help, inspiration and love. I miss you every day!

  Also for my mom, and for Jess, always. And Jan Crane, author extraordinaire! Of course, to Western Colorado, and Michele, Cynthia, Jennifer, and Karen!

  Prologue

  Two Years Ago

  Wallpaper. Blend into the scenery. Don’t stand out, don’t be different.

  Maggie Chambers tried hard to concentrate on the instructions pouring out of her brain. Keep your feet moving. Not too fast.

  She almost laughed. Too fast? Not a chance. She’d had enough of speed, enough of terror, enough of guns and gangsters. Enough world-tumbling disaster. No, she didn’t want speed.

  Not too slow either .

  Her feet picked up their pace automatically.

  Just another pedestrian, out for a stroll on a lovely evening.

  Tears stung her eyes. They asked too much. She asked too much. Fists of fear gripped her heart, squeezing, painful. A sob choked her, but she didn’t stop, didn’t let her footsteps falter.

  Wallpaper. Don’t think about it. A soft sound, part laugh, part cry, part scream erupted before she silenced it. She checked for oncoming traffic with a quick glance and somehow got her feet moving across the final street. Her eyes were already focused on the mouth of the alley ahead.

  Don’t think. Just act.

  She turned the corner. Kept going.

  Dark the color of midnight erased up the lovely June dusk. Who knew there were such awful places in lovely Edgeport, Connecticut? Who knew twin walls of bricks five stories high could create such an evil canyon?

  Her feet slowed, then stopped. She had to give her eyes time to adjust, didn’t she? The stench gagged her and she opened her mouth to breathe. Stale alcohol, rotting garbage and something more. Something worse. Maggie suppressed a shudder.

  Paper skittered restlessly across asphalt behind her, caught on a mysterious breeze. Maggie spun, eyes wide, braced for a violent death. Or worse. She heard soft, scurry noises, but nothing moved. At least nothing human. At least nothing human she could see.

  Her pulse still rocketed heavenward but she couldn’t control that. A quick glance at her watch confirmed it. Go time. A ski mask fit down over her head, leaving only her eyes open to the air. She moved like a shadow down the last ten feet, next to the graffiti-laden wall, soft black boots making not a sound.

  Close enough to hear them now.

  “Don’t tell me after all that you dropped her off at home, Jack.”

  “Damn straight. I don’t play with little girls, no matter how much they want me to.”

  They were waiting. But not for her. And there were two of them—one was bad enough, but two? Could she take on two? With her heart galloping in her chest like some wild, trapped mustang, she stopped. Right around the corner.

  “How you doing? Gotta be hard.”

  “Still in shock, they tell me. And yeah, losing a partner is about the hardest thing I’ve ever done.. Damn hard.” His shock didn’t show in the faint twang of his accent. Cold with a murderous edge. He sounded angry. Bitter. Dangerous.

  What did you expect? Maggie shuddered. The gun that had been so cold against her back was now warm from contact with her skin. Unfamiliar, the weapon felt heavy and seemed to have a life of its own. The grip slid in her moist palm, refusing to stay still, while the barrel danced and hopped in a bizarre jitterbug.

  Get a hold of yourself. She bit down hard on her lip and brought up her left hand to steady the pistol. Better. One deep breath out, slow. Keep it quiet. The instructions didn’t help. She lowered the gun and closed her stinging eyes, letting the wall to her left support her. Panic blossomed from deep inside, zipping through her veins, overwhelming, terrifying her.

  I can’t do this . The refrain blasted so loud she’d swear it audible.

  Think of Melissa.

  Melissa didn’t want her to do this.

  There aren’t any other options and you know it.

  One of those two men—the one who’d killed Billy—had the key. If she didn’t get it back, Melissa, the only family she had left, would be the next to die. Maggie opened her eyes. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.

  Can’t was not an option. Silent still, she pushed off the wall. Melissa. Melissa was all that mattered.

  Praying the street before her would remain deserted, Maggie lifted the gun, bracing it with suddenly steady hands, arms outstretched.

  On three.

  She went on two. No one else on the street and a delivery truck blocked any hapless pedestrian’s view. So far so good. In the bright glow of a street light, the shorter man saw her first and jumped. Cream colored coffee splattered out of his paper cup, splashed over the sidewalk. Her gaze jackrabbited between the two of them. One short, one tall, one blond and one dark. The short, blond man’s hands were shaking.

  Maggie pointed her gun at tall and dark. He wasn’t shaking—didn’t even lift his hands until she waved them up with the gun. staring down at her—almost amused. Stopped. Time, the horrible monster who’d gobbled her up in a crazy, wild race to destroy her His eyes were dark midnight blue. They were cool,

  When they locked on her own, her heart stuttered. life, now halted and spit her out on the sidewalk where she stood. Her breath caught in her throat and she couldn’t move, paralyzed by his knowing stare. Using his eyes alone, he examined her, stripped her, knew her, revealed her. Alone. Defenseless. A soundless cry escaped her bone dry throat.

  A slow smile of victory lit first his eyes, then slid outward, framing his eyes like radiating applause, over his chiseled cheekbones and nose, quirking the corners of his mouth. “You don’t want to be doin’ this, darlin’.”

  The smug certainty in his voice broke the strange spell. Maggie swallowed an agreement, saw Melissa’s eyes pleading with her and raised her forgotten gun in hands that were steady as granite. Fear laced her voice with gravel. “Hands on the wall behind you.”

  Short and blond spun immediately. Tall and dark watched her for long seconds, eyes reflecting a hint of regret, along with the same amusement before he executed a slow swivel toward the brick wall next to the dark storefront. Relieved the stare-down was over, Maggie pushed the gun into tall and dark’s back and nudged his legs apart with her knee. Short and blond was watching; he spread his legs wide without further encouragement.

  Tall and dark had a gun. His weapon was tucked into his jeans at the small of his back, right where she’d carried hers. For an instant she saw nothing but tiny spots. Her own gun dipped, fingers trembling violently. Almost as if he could see her—as if he sensed her sudden dizziness, tall and dark chuckled.

  “The safety’s on, darlin’. That gun can’t bite and I couldn’t possibly get to it before you—could I?” A threat? No, a dare. Her chin shot up.

  nausea and chased away her lightheadedness.

  Either way, his smooth murmur erased the She almost smiled at his error. Her own safety

  was still on, too. She eased it off before reaching for his warm pistol. With his gun stashed firmly behind her own back, she nudged his side with steel. “Shut up.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Keeping the gun on the more dangerous man, she emptied the short one’s pockets. His wallet went inside her shirt. Dropped against the belt at her waist.

  Change flew, bounci
ng off the sidewalk and rolling into the street.

  She reached around him.

  A small pocketknife plummeted to the concrete. Maggie caught the potential weapon with the toe of her boot and sent it flying off behind her. Her eyes never left tall and dark’s relaxed shoulder blades. A key tangled on short and blond’s inside pocket material. She gave a swift yank. The pocket tore, but she had the key ring.

  Practiced eyes flew over the three keys on the ring. Not what she was after. Figures.

  Maggie backed to a grate in the street and dropped the keys, sparing only a glance to make certain they fell through. Her outstretched arm never wavered from tall and dark’s trim backside. She approached him warily, expecting a fight, but he didn’t move. With more force than necessary, she jammed the gun into his back. Her hands would not shake.

  “I’m not going to stop you.” His voice was low, almost a caress, burning down inside her like lava.

  “I said, shut up!” He had nothing in his back pockets—that was obvious from the way the tight denim clung.

  Search them anyway.

  The thought shot heat into her cheeks. She most certainly was not going to slide her fingers inside the pocket, down around those firmly defined muscles.

  She resolutely swung her gaze to the back of his head and forcibly kept it there. Melissa. The reminder stiffened her shoulders. What the hell was wrong with her? Maggie heard what sounded like an amused snort, the sound spurring her to action. With the gun firmly in her right hand, she reached around him, shoved her hand down inside his left front pocket. And froze. Far from upset, he was enjoying this. Her reluctant fingers ran right into the evidence.

  He laughed, a contemptible chuckle that sent a shudder up her back. “Told ya, darlin’. I like your ass, too.”

  Maggie looped his key ring with one finger and yanked. One glance confirmed it. She retreated a measured four paces. “Take off your clothes,” she growled. “Shirts first. Easy.” Short and blond’s buttons popped and scattered on the sidewalk. Tall and dark methodically unbuttoned his cuffs before starting on his shirt front. He took his time with those buttons, too. Did he have another weapon? Maggie frowned. “You. Turn around. Slow.”

  Tall and dark obeyed, not smiling now. His eyes were cold, filled with disturbing undercurrents. He locked that riveting blue-eyed gaze back on hers and shot her a lazy grin that didn’t begin to reach his eyes. “Don’t trust me, darlin’?”

  Pasting a picture of Melissa in front of her mind, she met his mocking stare coldly. “Off.” She glanced at short and blond. He was holding his shirt over his overweight belly. “Toss it over here and keep going.” He complied. His hands were still shaking.

  Too much time.

  She lifted the gun, stepped forward. “Let’s go. Shoes, socks, everything, right here. Move.” She gestured at her feet. Short and blond peeled layers as fast as he could. Dress shirt, white t-shirt, trousers, black socks and wing-tips piled in an untidy heap at her feet. Tall and dark didn’t have as much to shed. Unlike short and blond, who, despite the warm evening, was shivering now in his boxers, tall and dark toed off boots. They landed with unerring accuracy at her feet.

  Gaze still clamped on hers, he pulled tanned, muscular arms from his shirt and chucked the blue denim onto the pile, revealing acres of strong, hard, naked flesh. Maggie’s lips parted. Suddenly, it was hard to breathe. The mask over her face had nothing to do with her throat closing down. He grinned again as he shucked jeans and briefs together, not releasing her eyes as he silently dared her to take a closer look.

  She kept her eyes firmly trained on his and scooped up the clothing. “Turn around.” Short and blond seemed delighted to hug the cold bricks again. Tall and dark hesitated. His proud, arrogant mouth still smiled, but his eyes were colder, harder. “I’ll find you.”

  The solemn promise rang in her ears all the way back down the alley.

  Chapter 1

  Present Day

  In Jersey City, Kevin Cormack’s harsh voice echoed wildly in the empty warehouse. “We’re done with Maggie Chambers, Nathan.”

  “No, Kevin, we’re not done with Maggie.” Nathan Mitchell’s soft voice held tones he no doubt meant both to soothe and bring an end to the conversation. Kevin wasn’t soothed or finished. “Wrong answer, cousin.” He revealed a long knife and advanced, smiling when, for the first time in his life, Nathan retreated, all the way back to the damp wall.

  “She’s keeping you—all of us—safe.” Now Kevin could hear the doubt and uncertainty creep in. Just like I imagined it . Kevin smiled coldly. “You made the stupid deal with her, cuz, I didn’t. And I’m the one who lost a brother. It’s time for her to cough up that evidence. Or die.” He raised the knife.

  Nathan tried to flatten himself against the wall. “She’s kept her end of the deal.” “I’m not gonna live under her thumb anymore.” Kevin laughed. The sudden burst of sound echoed with wild madness. “You always were sweet on her, weren’t you?” He lowered his voice to a mere whisper. “You can still live, Nathan. Maggie can still live. Just arrange a meeting.”

  “I don’t know where she is.” Kevin swore. “Melissa does,” he breathed, inching closer until he could feel the terror emanating from Nathan. “Not so tough now, are you, cuz? Remember the blood in the back seat of that stolen car? Remember who had to clean it up?” The knife flashed, ever closer. “Because you said so? It’s time to pay.”

  Nathan let out a small cry as the knife jabbed at his side. Dread clear to read in his eyes, he made one more try. “Kevin, stop this. What is it you want? More of the money? That can be arranged, man. Don’t do this.”

  “Money? Yeah, I want the money. But not more. . .I want all of it. I’m gonna dole it out now.” “Okay, okay, we can do that. Just-just back up, Kev.”

  Kevin did back up. His voice was cold. “Where’s Melissa?”

  Nathan brushed off his designer suit, obviously relieved Kevin had come to his senses. “Melissa’s where she’s always been. You know she’s part of my deal with Maggie. And you know if we break that deal the game is over. We’ll have nothing. . .nada. Is that what you want? Stupid prick!”

  Kevin flung him back against the wall before Nathan could do more than blink. Now the knife scraped at Nathan’s throat. “Where is Melissa?”

  “Chicago,” Nathan choked out. “Maggie’ll turn you in, Kevin.” His voice rose to a desperate, high squeal. “This is crazy! She’ll turn you in.”

  “Not if she’s dead,” Kevin whispered. He smiled at his second-to-last kin in the world. “Bye, cuz.” An hour later, Kevin watched from across the street as the New Jersey coroner wheeled his cousin’s lifeless body to a hearse. Good riddance. He ignored a disquieting what-do-I-do-now feeling. Nathan had called all the shots in Kevin and Paul’s life for way too long. He’d also kept them under Maggie Chambers’ thumb for two endless years. That was the first thing Kevin would change. Time to cancel the ridiculous “insurance policy” Nathan had set up with Maggie.

  The money was all his to control now—Nathan wouldn’t be around to hand it out a dollar here and a dollar there. There was Paul, of course. . .Kevin shrugged. Paul would do whatever Kevin told him to do.

  Kevin flung his cigarette to the street. He grinned. Finally he was in charge. No Billy. No Nathan. He rounded the corner to find a pay phone. Time to find that bitch Maggie Chambers and make her pay.

  *** In Grand Junction, Colorado, Megan Chase glanced at the large, round clock on the wall. Five more minutes. If the bus was on time. She shoved her baseball cap down more firmly on her head, her saunter carefully nonchalant as she found a spot by the vending machines against the wall. Her stomach churned. She preferred the outskirts of crowded rooms. Two years wasn’t enough time. More than likely there would never be time enough between her and that alley.

  Her eyes were never still. She skimmed faces, postures, anything that might be a clue. A couple stopped not eight inches in front of her, entangling in each other’s arms for a kiss that went
on and on. Megan scooted down, giving them room, smiling wryly.

  Just part of the wallpaper, baby. A distorted voice from overhead garbled something about Chicago and Megan gave her attention to the door. A bus was just pulling in. One of the windows framed a mass of golden curls. Megan sighed her relief. Three years ago, Maggie Chambers would have been one of the throng pushing close to the door, waiting to greet their loved ones. Now, Megan Chase gave that crowd a quick but thorough examination before turning her back to stride briskly out a door on the opposite side of the small, two-room station. The heat slapped her. Too damn hot for early May.

  She crossed the alley, cut through a parking lot, jaywalked across the street, cut through another parking lot and turned right. Then she pressed back against the tall stone walls of the old hardware store and waited.

  Megan tugged her hat low over her eyes and checked her watch. Ten minutes later, Melissa walked right past her. Megan smiled. Wallpaper.

  “Melissa,” she whispered.

  Melissa startled, then dropped her heavy duffel bag and threw her arms around Megan’s neck. “Maggie.” “Megan.” she corrected automatically, even as she relished the sweet, warm contact. “It’s Megan, Melissa.” Quick tears burned her eyes. For a split second it wasn’t Megan at all, but Maggie, hungrily relishing her sister, here in her arms, safe.

  Melissa’s hug was just as much a stranglehold. “I’ve been worried sick, Maggie.” That fast, Maggie disappeared. Megan Chase pushed Melissa away. “Shhh.” She shot quick glances both ways down the sidewalk. No one around, or at least not close enough to hear, but still! Melissa should know better than to be so careless.

  Melissa stared at her, dismayed. As usual, her chagrin had nothing to do with her lapse. “Your hair. Maggie—your hair. . .” Now Megan smiled sadly. “Yeah, I know.” The loss of her hip-long brown hair still hurt. During her first year on the run, she’d lost but four inches. All she had left was a cap of riotous curls on her head. “I’m getting used to it. It’s lots easier to take care of.” She ran her fingers through her bobbed curls. They sported an auburn tint Megan was beginning to favor. More often than not, the new color suited her temper.