Maverick Read online

  “No, it’s still here. Not moving.” Chuck left the screen and crossed beside the bed, retrieving Maggie’s briefcase from the floor.

  Melissa crawled toward Jack, still crying softly. Jack helped her to her feet. She staggered straight into arms that were screaming for Maggie. He met Chuck’s eyes over Melissa’s head.

  “What’s next? APB?”

  Jack shook his head. “Not with her in the car.”

  “Then what are we going to do?”

  “Give him what he wants.” He unwound Melissa’s arms and pushed her gently into a chair. “Let’s make sure she’s got the damned key with her.”

  *** Maggie leaned back against the circa 1970s dark paneling. The east Texas motel room was nearly identical to the west Louisiana motel room they’d left the night before. Except that Melissa wasn’t here. And something had gone terribly wrong.

  She spent the long hours of driving trying to remember Chuck’s notes. Most were lost to her hazy memory. When the explosion sounded outside, instead of stepping between Kevin and Melissa, she now realized she should have dropped to the floor. But the instructions hadn’t been all that clear. All the Monday-morning-quarterbacking in the world wouldn’t save this game.

  The other notes—the ones she couldn’t remember—would probably explain everything. But what if she couldn’t remember them? If she never remembered them? She had one ace to play. She didn’t know how to play it, when to play it, or even really what it was. The key Chuck gave her was in her bra. Kevin would have to kill her to get in there. She’d already memorized everything on it. Austin Plaza Hotel. And a phone number. What the hell did it mean?

  Cash in the key in case of an emergency.

  She remembered that one. Chuck watched her carefully while he’d shown that note to her. Twice.

  This was definitely an emergency. But cash in the key? How did you cash in a key? Jack still had the evidence. The only other note she remembered confirmed that. No way he’d give it up.

  So what was at the hotel? Kevin sat by the television, flicking through stations, looking for more news coverage. He’d picked a motel without CNN, so he had his choice of late-night sit-com reruns and little else.

  She only cared because when Kevin watched television, he ignored her.

  She closed her eyes to go through the notes again in her mind.

  “Maggie.” Even before she opened her eyes, her brain screamed warnings. He towered over her, holding a syringe.

  He already had her wrist. “Be smart, Maggie. Like last night.”

  Tonight was nothing like last night. Melissa was safe, not threatened by his gun. And Maggie had nothing left to lose. The struggle took ten minutes. The ten minutes lasted a lifetime. When they ended, Kevin sported a bloody nose and a rapidly blackening eye. Maggie had bruised cheeks, a split in her upper lip and a wrist that was most certainly broken now. She fought the sickening rush with a fierce determination, until the drug swept even her resolve away.

  Unlike the night before, she didn’t hear Jack’s voice. And she didn’t go to sleep. When her arms were limp at her side, he lifted the pillow he’d used to muffle her screams. His features swam in and out of focus. Testing her resistance, he moved her head from side to side before turning her to face him.

  He laughed at the tears in her eyes. “No more than you deserve, bitch,” he whispered. “Tell me the truth and I’ll give you the rest of the dose. Keep lying to me and you can stay awake for everything else I’m going to do to you.”

  She screamed, kicked, scratched and bit, but her actions were only in her mind. The half-dose of the drug intensified everything: his eyes, his voice, and the placating fingers he used to pat her cheek.

  “I never saw you cry before, Maggie. Melissa used to cry all the time. But you, you never did. Even that night you went and got that key back. No tears.” She couldn’t see him any longer—couldn’t see anything but blurs of dark wood and a splash of red that was his mouth. He used his thumbs to wipe away her tears, rubbed his fingers over her scalp and her skin literally crawled.

  Over all the disgusting sensations—sliding through them all—came his voice. A single question, asked a thousand times. “Where’s the note, Maggie?”

  “Stop,” she pleaded, but he either didn’t hear or didn’t care.

  “Where’s the note, Maggie?”

  His voice overrode all the attempts she made to refocus her mind, distract her body—anything to keep from feeling him, hearing him. Nothing. Nothing but the question. “Where’s the note, Maggie?”

  “Austin,” she cried finally.

  His hands stopped moving. And the voice stopped, too.

  Panting with the mental effort of fighting when she couldn’t move, she waited. “Good girl. Where in Austin, Maggie?’

  His hands moved. She could already hear the refrain starting over. She shook her head, desperate to stop the repulsive whisper and the touch that accompanied each syllable. “A hotel.”

  Everything stopped again.

  Then started again. “What hotel?”

  “Austin P-Plaza.”

  She waited. Groaned when the nauseating chant began again.

  “Why is it there?”

  Suddenly she had help. She couldn’t see anything, but the notes Chuck flashed in front of her were suddenly clear. She read them off in sequence, her voice rushing to get them out. “I—I mailed the bonds and the note. To myself. To keep them safe. I—I knew he had a ranch here—that I couldn’t have them with me when I met with him.”

  Kevin’s loud chuckle jarred her. She didn’t feel him slide the needle into her skin, but she knew he had when her ears hummed and darkness lapped around her. Jack was suddenly back, and she rolled into his arms with a grateful sob of relief. “Go on to sleep, darlin’.” The words erased the others, soothing the ravaged corners of her mind. She burrowed deep into his warm arms and fell soundly asleep.

  The television intruded first. nothingness.

  Maggie forced her eyes open.

  ***

  A rude, blaring encroachment into a blissful night of She shut them immediately with a groan. “Don’t start on me, Maggie-May.”

  She froze. Something had happened. He sounded cheerful. Elated.

  “Look. I’ve got everything ready for you.” She opened her eyes again as he began the list. “Coffee, and Pepsi, and your pills. I even rewrapped your wrist.” He wasn’t lying. Next to the bed was everything he’d listed. Even a glass of water for the pills. Up on one elbow, she swallowed the pills, drank all the water, then drained the can of soda. The cola was wonderfully cold, scouring away the cotton and gravel in her throat. He took the empty can out of her hand and gave her another one—just as cold. Then he backed up to his chair by the television and sat down, leaving her to wonder what alternate universe she’d awakened to.

  “I’m glad you’re up. We’re the lead story. I didn’t know whether to wake you or let you sleep.” The words came too fast for dissection. She levered up to a full sitting position and picked up the hot coffee. No sugar, but that didn’t matter. The caffeine from the cola began to whisk away the hazy fog in her mind. She hoped the coffee would provide gale-force winds.

  “The cowboy’s getting worried, Maggie-May. Why else would we lead off the news at noon?” He sounded like a promo for the news station. A promo who’d just won the lottery. Fortunately his enthusiasm wasn’t contagious.

  She swallowed coffee, took two more pills and swallowed more coffee. The hot liquid began to taste bitter. That was a good thing, she decided. Would Jack be on the broadcast? News of Melissa?

  Scooting back against the wall, she pulled a pillow into her lap, using it to block Kevin’s view while she felt for the imprinted key. Still there. Maybe with the caffeine’s help she could figure out what she was supposed to do with a key to a hotel in Austin.

  “There’s you. They must be nuts. That doesn’t look a thing like you now.” Kevin’s gleeful shout accompanied a still shot of her old driver’s lice
nse from Connecticut. From her memory, Jack’s voice superseded the news anchor’s: “I didn’t want anyone else finding you. . .”

  Maggie smiled. “Loud and clear,” she whispered silently.

  “. . .new developments in this case, right here.” The bright, cheerful voice of the anchor chattered on, but Maggie stopped listening when a video started to play. Melissa. . . No make-up, hair in tangles, sobbing.

  An icy hand plunged into Maggie’s chest, caught her heart and squeezed. “Noooo,” she breathed.

  The camera zoomed in. Maggie shot to her feet at the plea in Melissa’s beautiful eyes. Back to a wide-angle shot.

  Jack.

  Today he ignored the camera, fist tight around Melissa’s elbow, pushing her through a crowd. Melissa lifted her arm and Maggie had a clear shot of his handcuffs. Clamped securely around her sister’s wrists, Maggie could feel them around her own— the cold steel—the inexorable link and the helpless futility of struggle.

  The hand around her heart gathered up her lungs as well.

  Jack placed his palm on Melissa’s head and gave a rough shove. A single shot of him as he slammed the door of a police cruiser—a cold-as-ice smile on his lips and in his eyes. Maggie sank to the floor. Her eyes clamped shut—her only defense against a continual replay of what she’d just witnessed. “I promise.”

  He lied.

  The icy hand withdrew, leaving behind an ache so strong, so deep, she trembled with it. “Trust me, my Maggie.”

  “I believed you,” she moaned. “That she was safe.”

  The replay began again, Melissa, staring straight at her, begging her. . . Melissa’s sobs tore out chunks of Maggie’s heart.

  Kevin’s fingers were under her chin, lifting her face from her knees. His touch barely registered. “He arrested her,” she whispered numbly.

  “Welcome to the FBI’s top ten, Maggie-May.”

  “He arrested her,” she repeated, begging him to deny the words, willing her brain to provide another explanation. The one she’d seen couldn’t be true—he’d promised her. He knew what she’d given up, how much running had cost her—all to keep her sister safe.

  Kevin laughed. “Of course he arrested her. What did you think he was going to do—take her out to dinner? Take her home?”

  Take her home. Yes. And keep her safe. Get her medical attention—find out what drug Kevin had rammed into her system. Everything she’d imagined for her sister faded away into that one horrible image.

  “Quit crying, Maggie.”

  “I’m not.” The defense was automatic, but a lie. She was crying—hot tears of denial that were fast becoming sobs of defeat and an ache that was more than she could bear. Kevin pulled her to her feet. Her knees weren’t ready to hold her yet, so she sat down on the bed. He crouched in front of her and used the pads of his thumbs to wipe tears from her cheeks. Maggie froze at a chilling half-remembered dream. Then she shook her head to clear the disturbing image.

  There wasn’t time for dreams. She had to save Melissa.

  “We have to go back.” The quiet resolution in her voice wiped the smirk from Kevin’s face. He gave a short nod. “So you’re going to take the deal?”

  “Deal?”

  “You didn’t hear?”

  Deal?

  She shook her head. “I didn’t hear.”

  “He wants to trade. Me for Paul. You for Melissa.”

  A thousand denials sprang to her mind. The picture of Jack, slamming that door on the cruiser, left them in dust at her feet. A deal.

  “Yes. I want to deal.”

  He nodded. “I thought you might. I’ll even let you. Once we get the note and the bonds from that hotel.”

  He brushed a final tear from her cheek. Memory flooded back with the gesture. Maggie closed her eyes, brain scrambling for another way out. There wasn’t one. No choices. No options. She would give Kevin the papers. She would take Melissa’s place. The swap meant facing him again, knowing he’d lied. It meant the loss of her evidence—and her freedom. It meant she’d have to trust Jack.

  She’d be walking into his trap. And sacrificing everything might not save Melissa at all.

  Chapter 16

  Jack glanced across the hotel room at Melissa. Huddled in a chair, still sniffling. He sighed. Apparently she had the same aversion to handcuffs as her sister. And equally apparent was that she could nurse a grudge even longer than Maggie herself.

  “C’mon, Melissa. I told you beforehand it wasn’t for long.”

  “They weren’t necessary.”

  He wasn’t going back down that worn-out road. “You want Maggie back, don’t you?”

  “Putting me in handcuffs has nothing to do with getting her back.” Melissa sniffed and flounced in her chair. Her mysterious eyes were red-rimmed from the myriads of tears she’d cried—was still crying.

  “Kevin knew I took you into custody. I had to arrest you, so he won’t suspect a trap when he brings her here.”

  “You didn’t have to use handcuffs.”

  “It’s what we do with criminals, Melissa.” Jack sighed in disgust. “Tell me another way to keep Maggie safe and catch Kevin.”

  She was silent and wouldn’t look at him.

  “I didn’t think so.” He yanked up the phone when it chirped, glancing at the back of it before lifting it to his ear. Frank from Connecticut. Just what he needed now. “What?” “I saw you on TV, Jack. You nailed the sister, huh? Where’re you holding her?” “Sorry. That’s need-to-know.”

  “Any leads?”

  Jack swallowed his irritation and closed his eyes, allowing none of the tension he felt into his voice. “There’re always leads, buddy. You know that. It’s just a matter of a day or two until we track down the right one. I need to keep this line clear, but thanks for checkin’ in.” He pressed “END” and tossed the phone to the bed.

  Where the hell was she?

  No way Kevin-the-news-hound had missed the footage—every network in eight states had played the film.

  She had his number on the key—had to realize the out he’d handed her with Kevin. So why didn’t she call?

  “We’re just going to wait here?” Melissa stopped crying long enough to shoot him a baleful glare. “For how long? What are we waiting for?” Jack forced himself to relax. “For as long as it takes. And we’re waiting for a phone call.” “You just got a phone call.”

  He bit down on the inside of his cheek and tried to lengthen the already-lit short fuse of his temper. “A phone call from Maggie.”

  “Kevin will never let her call. He certainly won’t let her call you.”

  “He won’t know she’s calling me. He’s going to think she’s calling the hotel. To see if they have the package.”

  “This hotel?”

  Jack nodded. This was the fourth time he’d explained it to her. He didn’t remember her being this dense. “You think Kevin’s going to let her come here?”

  “Yes.”

  “For the evidence.”

  Finally. “Yes, Melissa. For the evidence.” He waited for the next rebuttal. When she stayed silent, he glanced at her. She kneaded at her forehead, looking utterly miserable. In Chicago, Emily was miserable, too, but she would make a full recovery. When Jack got his hands on Kevin, he had enough to put him away for four lifetimes. “Want me to rub your head, honey?”

  Melissa nodded, her eyes filling back up with tears. She shoved back in the easy chair and he drew his straight chair around to the back of hers. The tears spilled down over her cheeks as he began to rub her forehead. “I’m s-sorry,” she sobbed. “It just h-hurts and I c-can’t think.”

  “The doctor said the report should be back in an hour or so. Then he’ll have a better idea how to fix it. Sure you wouldn’t rather lie down?”

  She shuddered. “Never again.” She sighed. “I know you told me, but that stuff he gave me—I think it messed with my memory. You found me in Louisiana?” Jack glanced at the silent phone on the bed and started the story over. For the fi
fth time. ***

  Two hundred miles away, Maggie bluffed her way through a barrage of questions. She had virtually no recollection of what she’d told Kevin the night before. But with careful inquiries, she was fairly sure she could now recreate the lies she’d uttered. She was also sure she’d only repeated information Chuck had given her. Even though she couldn’t remember that information now.

  “Do they know you mailed the package, Maggie?”

  “They?”

  “The FBI.”

  “How the hell should I know?” Neither the anger nor the impatience was feigned. Trying to remember made her sick. Not being able to remember made her furious. That she couldn’t remember was Kevin’s fault.

  Kevin lifted his hands at her outburst. “Okay, okay. I just need to be sure. You didn’t tell the cowboy?” Maggie didn’t allow herself even one blink. “I didn’t say a word.” She hadn’t. Chuck had laid out all the bait. She’d swallowed, even if she couldn’t remember opening her mouth. And somewhere Jack sat with his fishing pole, and her sister, reeling in the line.

  “Then let’s go to Austin.”

  They stopped for gas near Waco. She retrieved the key when Kevin wasn’t looking. The phone number seemed to scream at her. When she slid back behind the wheel, she fished the key out of her pocket and handed it to Kevin.

  You’re helping him. You’re his partner now.

  “Maybe we should call.” She spoke over the voice in her head, repressing a shudder. “Just to make sure the evidence is there.”

  “I’ll call.” “They might not tell you. I addressed the package to Jenna Cole.” She hoped like hell the package was addressed to Jenna Cole. She hoped like hell there was a package. “You don’t exactly sound like a Jenna.”

  “Then I’ll dial.” He kept the key and she followed him to the phone booth. If there wasn’t a package, she wasn’t going to the hotel. She was going to his ranch. Hopefully she could remember how to find the sprawling acreage.

  Before he dialed the final number, he handed her the receiver. “I’ll be right behind you, Maggie. Don’t try anything.” She shook her head and he punched in the last digit, backing away with his eyes on her. He leaned on the side of the phone enclosure. Maggie smiled coldly. At least she and Kevin understood that they didn’t trust each other.