Chapter Four

Callie’s stomach flipped again, and she swallowed back the burger-tinged bile that crept up the back of her throat. Switching to French fries didn’t help; their grease nauseated her. She pushed the basket away.

Randy and Karl were dangerous, and the only thing between them and her was this man who calmly ate french fries four at a time. What had he been through in the last twenty-four hours away from her? If she could set aside her hurt feelings for a minute, who was he?

She took a deep breath and pulled the man across from her into her thoughts. The way he looked, smelled, sounded. Briefly the thought of kissing him flashed into her mind. But why? Why did he have to be the one? She’d waited so long for a man who would make her feel alive again. Why him? He was everything she didn’t want.

“Not hungry?” he rumbled. To make it worse, he ran his finger over her white knuckles.

She jumped, a shiver rippling up her spine. “I’m fine.”

Sipping from his drink, B.J. sat back and stared at her. “Okay, so what do you want to know?”

Callie stretched her neck to ease the tension. “What happens next? Or are you not supposed to talk about it?”

“Warrant’s out. We’ll get him.” He went back to his burger.

“So what are the rules about talking about a case?” Her burger abandoned, Callie rested her chin on her hand.

B.J.’s half smile warmed his eyes. “Well, it’s not a rule exactly, more like a guideline.”

Callie melted at his attention and cursed her weakness. “Now you’re being patronizing, but at least I know you care.”

B.J.’s phone buzzed. Even though the shared moment was shattered, her heart still galloped wildly. He leaned over to read the text and shifted from personal to business. She was shut out, but it didn’t hurt as badly. She sighed and nibbled on her burger again, wondering if it was about Karl.

Karl was a serious criminal as well as a stalker. Looking through the lens of this new knowledge, all the encounters she’d ever had with him now looked like lucky escapes. She’d read that stalking victims often thought they were imagining the threat they felt, blaming themselves for their situation. After reading about the obsessive thoughts that stalkers have, she was horrified to recognize language Karl used. B.J. dragged her into reality, and now she had to face the fact that she had to take back her life. Her safety was her responsibility.

Callie watched B.J. tap out a response to the text he’d gotten. He looked up from his phone. “No, it wasn’t about Karl.”

Now that his concentration was focused on her, Callie didn’t move as waves of raw heat flowed between them. The sheer longing in those gray eyes made her shiver. She helplessly watched his gaze travel the length of her, leaving her weak.

He blinked slowly, and the intensity died back again. “They’re processing Randy.”

Karl and Randy were selling guns. Another cold wave spilled through her. People she’d known most of her life and saw almost every week were responsible for unspeakable violence.

“Do you think Karl will go to Mexico?” Callie could barely choke out the words.

“It’s possible, but I hope not. I’d rather catch him.” B.J.’s hands and voice remained steady.

Callie marveled at his calm. “And he’s willing to let Randy take the fall for both of them. Their mother must be heartbroken. What a jerk.” She shook her head.

Amusement lit up B.J.’s fascinating gray eyes. “Is that the worst word you can think of? Jerk?”

Sara had provided Callie with some much-needed sanity. Maybe she could do the same thing for B.J. “Sure, I know other words. There’s something so satisfying about saying jerk. All those consonants explode in your mouth. Jerk. You can even get a head shake in there.”

It worked. B.J. genuinely smiled.

Warmth blossomed in her chest at making B.J. open up a little, until a thought turned her insides to liquid. “This might be nothing, but there was a man in here earlier, a Hispanic man who kept his sunglasses on almost the whole time. My niece almost ran into him because he was so busy looking at me.”

His stillness spoke volumes. “Did you see what he was driving?”

“A van maybe.”

“Plates?”

“I couldn’t see them.”

B.J. looked up at the ceiling as if he searched for something. He wiped his mouth, stood, and walked toward the register. “Hi. Do you have security cameras?”

Callie couldn’t hear the reply. Then B.J. walked back to his seat and shoved three french fries into his mouth.

“Maybe that could be your other career. Selling security cameras,” Callie said.

“Law enforcement’s best friend.” A flash of humor softened his eyes around the edges.

“So do you think this Hispanic guy might be working with Karl?”

B.J. shrugged. Callie pressed her hand to her fluttering stomach.

“Are you going to eat your fries?”

“Take them.” Wondering how he could eat so much at a time like this, she pushed the basket toward him.

Callie’s phone rang from the depths of her big bag. She dug around and found it by the third ring. Her eyes went wide. “I’ve never seen this number.” With all that had happened, she didn’t want to take any chances. Apparently, neither did B.J. He grabbed his phone and reached for Callie’s. She had a death grip on it, but she turned it where he could see the screen.

The phone stopped ringing by the time he sent his text. Almost immediately, her phone rang again, and they exchanged a look.

“Same number.” Flustered, she showed him her phone even though he wasn’t looking.

“Wait for it.”

It? Wait for what? She hit the silence button, because she couldn’t stand to let it ring. It stopped.

“If he calls back, keep him talking.” Quickly scanning a text he’d received, he reached for her arm and gave it a squeeze.

“You think it’s Karl?”

“Could be. Relax, I’ll be right here.”

She didn’t have time to worry about it, because the phone rang again almost immediately. B.J. nodded. She would soon find out.

“Hello?” She hated how edgy she sounded.

“Hey, baby.” Karl’s voice slithered over her nerves like a snake.

“Karl! What is going on?” Callie gripped B.J.’s arm, her lifeline to get her through what had to be done.

“I just wanted to let you know I’m okay. I figured by now you knew what happened to Randy.”

Callie gave B.J. a panicked look. What should she say?

B.J. gave her a circular finger motion as if anything was fine.

“Are they going to arrest you, too? Karl, what have you been doing?” Callie breathed when B.J. nodded his encouragement.

“Running a very profitable business, partner. You’ve helped by letting me use the computers.”

Oh God. He believed she was complicit. The depth of his delusions astonished her. “I had nothing to do with your business. You’ve got to turn yourself in.”

“Oh, no, baby, this is the beginning of a new life for us. If they arrest me, they have enough evidence to arrest you, too. But we can get away. You’ll like what I’ve got planned.”

Callie’s whole body went icy. “What do you mean?”

“What would you think about a house by the ocean? A beautiful view by day and long nights with me?” Karl had spun a horrifying fantasy about her.

“No, no, no. Karl, I told you. I don’t feel that way about you.” She had to be firm.

B.J. looked up from his screen and pinned her with a frown. She needed the reassurance of those steely gray eyes to anchor her.

“You just haven’t given us a chance. Picture it, Callie. Blue water and me. I can make you love me, I promise.” Karl’s voice picked up a slight whine.

Callie tamped down her annoyance. “No, Karl. You can’t. I don’t love you, and I won’t ever. You need to leave me alone.” She tried to sound forceful like the stalking website said.

B.J.’s phone buzzed on the laminate tabletop. “A little longer, you’re doing great.”

“So Ian rides into town, and that’s it? You flush ol’ Karl down the drain?” Anger, hot and biting, came through the phone at her.

“Ian? He doesn’t have anything to do with it. I don’t love you. I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“I don’t believe you. Ian is making you say that.”

Where did he get that? “Karl, this is me talking. Leave me alone.”

“You don’t mean it.”

B.J. looked up from his phone and slid fingers across his throat.

“Karl, we’re done. Good-bye.”

“Tell Ian he’s not calling the shots. I am.”

Callie looked around. Oh God, could Karl see B.J., or was that a lucky guess? “What do you mean?”

B.J. signaled her again, this time more urgently. Hang up. She looked away. She had to make sure.

“That Ian looks like a goofy asshole telling you what to do,” Karl said.

Now she was sure. “Are you watching us?” she whispered in horror.

Karl laughed and hung up.

…

B.J. jumped up and looked out the window.

“We’ve got to get out of here.” Callie stood and headed for the door.

B.J. grabbed her arm and moved her to an empty table farther in the dining room. “That’s what he wants.”

She still looked like she wanted to run, so he put her next to the wall and sat in the booth beside her. First he mobilized Jake, who promised to send deputies to patrol the area. Then B.J. contacted the U.S. Marshals and made arrangements for Callie to go to a safe house.

“Let me know as soon as you have an address, and I’ll meet you there.”

Callie’s pale face stared at him with haunted eyes. He crouched beside her and took her hand. “It’s going to be okay. We’re finding you a safe place.”

“I know.” Her determined smile only served to further enrage him.

Karl had now crossed the line. Callie would never be able to defend herself against this psychopath, and B.J. had to arrest him and put him away as long as he could. This was no longer about a gun smuggling case. This was personal. He stood when he saw Jake pull up and park in front.

Her phone rang. Once she looked at the number, her eyes widened.

“The same number? Put it on speaker.” B.J. stood, hands on his hips.

“Karl?” Callie’s voice shook, but she cleared her throat. Color blossomed on her cheeks.

“Calling the sheriff isn’t going to help you. We will soon be together.” Karl sounded like he was running.

B.J. looked at Jake, then out the big windows, but couldn’t see a thing.

“No, we—” B.J. looked back in time to see her jump as a text message came in.

“I’ll be damned.” Jake hovered over the table. Shock was in the older man’s eyes.

“What?” B.J. bolted to Callie’s side. On her phone was a picture of her and B.J. sitting in the booth.

“What does this mean?” Her phone clattered on the table and her arms snaked around her middle.

No, it couldn’t be. He used his phone and the wifi to pull up the stolen AR15’s manufacturer’s website. Just as he suspected, they touted the AR15’s ability to send pictures, even videos. His uneasiness grew.

“What is it?” Callie yanked on his arm. Her mouth fell open.

B.J. pulled back. He didn’t want her to see this, but she stood up to get a better look.

“Does Karl have one of these guns?” Her frown deepened.

B.J. didn’t answer, but tried to take back his phone.

“Damn it, B.J., don’t try to keep this from me.”

He glowered. He wanted to protect Callie and found it all going to hell. “We think so.”

“The gun can take pictures.” Callie sat back down with her hand at her throat.

He easily took back his phone now and closed the website. He sure wasn’t going to let her find out it could be triggered by a smartphone.

“This picture is about thirty minutes old,” B.J. said.

“He could’ve shot us. Why didn’t he?” She raised her chin.

Her brusque statement earned B.J.’s respect. “He’s playing a game with us. He wants us to know he could have us at any time.”

“If the picture is thirty minutes old, then he’s not there anymore.” She played with her lower lip as she concentrated.

B.J. could only think about that lip. He shook his head to concentrate and paced. Abbott’s end game would change. He would try to flush them out now. The pink sunset barely tinged the sky. All too soon it would be dark. B.J. called the marshals, but they were still ten minutes away.

“The marshals will be here—” B.J. stopped when he saw the empty booth.

Callie was gone.

A flash of white outside caught his eye. Callie ran toward her car. What the hell was she doing? He could only pray he caught her in time.

He barely reached her passenger door when she put the car in gear. Thank goodness the door was unlocked. For once, the small-town mind-set worked in his favor.

“What the hell are you doing?” He jumped in and slammed the door.

“Get out! Now!” She showed B.J. her phone. There was a picture of a little girl in her nightgown holding a stuffed lamb. It was the kind of picture that looked eerily familiar, like the one from the sights of a super AR15.

“That’s my niece, Sara. He said come alone.” Callie’s jaw was set but her hands shook.

“I can’t let you do that. Karl is trying to flush you out. She’s not in danger. You are.”

“Can you guarantee that? I didn’t think so. Get out.” She shoved him toward the door, desperation tingeing her tone.

“Call your sister.” He wasn’t about to lose her or Sara. He locked the doors.

“Don’t you think I’ve tried that? It went to voicemail.”

“Call again.”

Even without being on speaker, the frantic response screamed from the phone. “Callie, oh my God. They’ve taken Sara. They’ve taken Sara.”

“I’m not losing another baby. Get out now.” Callie pounded on his shoulder, using her full weight to force him to the door.

He didn’t understand what she meant, but it didn’t matter. “No. You’re taking me with you.”

“He said come alone.” Her face crumpled, and tears threatened to spill.

“You’re wasting valuable time. I’m not letting you go alone.” B.J. buckled his seat belt.

Callie let out her breath in a puff, and then she stomped on the accelerator.

“Go a really long way rather than the most direct. If they’ve set a trap on the obvious route, you’ll avoid it.”

Callie nodded, and her tires squealed as they left the parking lot and turned onto the interstate.

B.J. was on the phone. The marshals were still too far away to be helpful. She took an exit off the interstate.

“You’re making me do everything they said not to.” Callie turned tormented eyes toward him as she approached a quiet neighborhood.

Before he could answer, a Suburban with dark windows pulled in front of her. B.J. had his weapon up even before Callie slammed on her brakes. Two men in black masks and military gear jumped out and started toward the car, armed with AK47s.

“Back up, Callie!” B.J. yelled.

Too late. When the men swarmed, yelling and yanking on the doors, the car rolled into the Suburban. Now there was a masked man on each side of the car, B.J. looking down the barrel of his assault rifle. When the gunman shattered her window, Callie screamed as glass rained on her. He yanked open the door and dragged her out.

B.J.’s best chance to help Callie was to make sure he survived, but surrendering his weapon ripped him. With his hands in the air, he slowly got out of the car and evaluated the situation. Karl had a gun at Sara’s head, manipulating Callie to join a Hispanic man in sunglasses…the same man who had watched her at Dairy Queen? He held a gun to Callie’s head.

In all reality, B.J. was of no use to them. His attention went back to the gunman who held him, watching his eyes since the rest of his face was hidden. The man’s finger tightened on the trigger.

“He’s rich. Don’t kill him.” Callie’s pinched voice and ridiculous words startled B.J.

A man’s quiet command caused the gunman to relax, and B.J. pulled in a lungful of air. She’d bought him some time.

B.J. glanced around and earned a rifle butt to the head. The next thing he knew he was in the back seat of the Suburban, woozy with ringing ears. Callie was warm beside him. They were moving.

“What happened?” Embarrassed by his slurred words, he tried to sit up.

“Sara’s safe. They let her go.” Callie anxiously searched his face. Then her eyes went to the gunman in the third seat who had the muzzle of his assault rifle aimed at them.

Blood dripped onto his hand. Callie?

“Do you have a first aid kit?” Her insistent words met silence. Her lips thinned in annoyance, she pressed her sleeve to his head, and he realized he was the one bleeding.

B.J. didn’t feel a thing as he checked her over. As she gave him a quick nod, he saw her swollen lip and her tear-streaked face. He started up, mad as hell, but she pushed him back down.

Just as he made out that they were on the interstate, they took an exit. They pulled into the parking lot of the motel he and Leo stayed in the last few days and around to the back. There was empty grassland behind the building, the perfect place to hide from the local police. The Suburban lurched to a stop. The gunman in the third seat hopped out and opened B.J.’s door.

As he was dragged through the door, Callie reached to him with her blood-soaked jacket. Before she could follow him, the other gunman opened her door and pulled her out on the other side.

We can’t get separated.

Karl’s black Mustang wheeled into the parking lot and parked beside a van just as the gunman brought B.J. next to Callie. Again she tried to reach for him, but his arms were jerked behind him and duct-taped. His old shoulder injury screamed even more as the gunman jerked him around to search his pockets and yanked out his badge.

“Callie, you were supposed to come alone.” Karl closed the car door, arms open wide. Before he could swagger to her, the man from Dairy Queen met him at the fender and said something B.J. couldn’t hear. Karl nodded, and the gunman took him B.J.’s badge.

“A federal agent? Well, now, I’m flattered. I thought you were some kind of rich boy getting cozy with my girl, and here you are a federal agent.” Karl strutted up to B.J.

“Karl, I’m not your girl.” Callie struggled to pull away from the gunman who held her.

Like a junkyard dog that just won a fight, Karl stepped between B.J. and Callie, his back toward B.J. He slid his arm around her shoulders and turned her around as if they were a couple. As she struggled against his hold, B.J. could only clench his fists behind his back.

Karl kept his eyes on B.J. but swept his arm toward the man from the Dairy Queen. “Mr. Lawman, I’m going to let you go with Manny and these nice narcos. They just love lawmen, especially federal ones.”

Yeah, love to torture, maim, and kill. B.J. had no illusions about narco-terrorists. Those ruthless enough to make money from illegal drug trafficking were not nice characters. He was more worried about Callie than himself, knowing that if they got separated, she would be completely alone with either the narcos or Karl.

“Me and Callie will have that date you interrupted the other night.” Karl ground his mouth against hers.

Callie struggled, pushed at his chest. Rage boiled in B.J.’s gut, but the gunman held firm as he tried to charge.

An insane laugh burst from Karl’s mouth, and he smirked close to B.J’s face. “I won.”

B.J. forced himself to think through his enraged haze. “Maybe not yet, Abbott. Every state trooper this side of the Rio Grande knows your car by now and knows Callie Snowden. There are too many people looking for you, and if you get caught with her, you’re going down hard.” B.J.’s half-formed argument took on life as he went on. It was enough to make Karl hesitate.

B.J. switched to Spanish, hoping to persuade the narcos to keep them together. “Facial recognition software has been installed at every checkpoint. I’m sure Callie will make sure her face gets on camera. You’ll all be arrested before you get to Mexico.”

Manny pulled Karl aside. Callie shot a worried look in B.J.’s direction, but he strained to listen to the two talk. Karl furiously shook his head, but when Manny crossed his arms, Karl nodded and stared at the ground. A silent signal passed from Manny to the gunman holding Callie, who dragged her in the van’s direction. Karl ran over and pushed the narco away.

“Wait. I’ll do it,” Karl insisted.

“Karl, don’t do this. Don’t make us go in the van. Please, don’t make us go.” Callie’s begging ripped at B.J. There had to be something he could do.

“It’s just until you get across the border. Then I’ll come for you.”

“I don’t want to go to Mexico. Please—”

Karl’s slap was loud, and Callie’s head snapped around. Furious, B.J. broke free from the gunman’s hands, but he didn’t have his eyes on the other gunman, who landed a left on his jaw. Once on the ground, he got a kick in the ribs.

The gunman dragged B.J. up by his shirt and threw him through the side door of the van.

Karl’s voice echoed through the van from the other open door. “Baby, you made me so mad I had to hit you. Don’t make me mad again.”

B.J. wanted to crawl out and pummel Karl into the ground, but he couldn’t move fast enough. Duct tape ripped, and Callie was shoved up against him. The door scraped closed.