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Travis followed Halstead’s directions, but it wasn’t long before he figured out where they were heading. The southern-style home tucked beneath the rimrocks off Lone Pine Road was one of several properties owned by Halstead Enterprises, rumored to be where Halstead kept his mistresses for clandestine rendezvous. Anger flooded Travis at the thought of Jordan within those walls.
He’d broken the first rule of undercover ops—never let it get personal. Jordan had gotten under his skin, and he couldn’t shake her. The woman’s innocence and naivete should have turned him off from the start, but her courage, and the way she kept putting one foot in front of the other, despite the exhaustion that had to be tugging at her heels, had earned his respect and admiration. Waking beside her on the mountain with a raging hard-on had blown his mind. Kissing her at the church sealed his fate. Now, saving her was his mission, and if he wasn’t careful, it could be his last.
He was dead on his feet, and mistakes at this point would be disastrous. Luke and MacGyver were at least two hours away. Coop was off the grid, most likely undercover and not answering his phone. No brothers covering his back. What a shit-fest this was going to be.
He’d gotten lucky—no one had followed him when he’d forced Halstead into the passenger seat of his Jag and fled the ranch. Since then, one other car had appeared in his rearview mirror, and he’d left it behind several miles back.
Travis stopped the car as soon as lights from the home’s windows came into view and then backtracked a few hundred feet to a turnout alongside the road. A casual observer wouldn’t see the vehicle from the house, meaning whoever held Jordan might not see them coming.
He checked his handgun, re-holstered it, and hurried to the opposite side. “If we attract any attention, you’ll be the first to die.” Jerking Halstead from the vehicle, Travis flipped him around, checked his bindings, and pushed him toward the house.
“This is unnecessary. A woman, an acquaintance of mine who works as a data analyst for the FBI, brought Jordan here, and I guarantee she’s not armed.” They’d only walked a hundred feet, and Halstead was already breathing hard.
So, that’s at least one FBI employee on the payroll. Travis studied the house as they drew closer. “There are a lot of lights on for two people.” The front was mostly glass, and every window glowed as though they were expecting company.
Halstead scoffed. “Carmen doesn’t know the meaning of conservation—energy or money.”
Travis had no sympathy for the problems of the rich and criminally motivated. “You realize your acquaintance just lost her job, right?”
“Only if you survive the night.” Halstead laughed and shrugged. “Either way, I have no further use for Carmen.”
“That’s cold even for you.” Travis grabbed a handful of the man’s collar, pressed his weapon into his ribs, and propelled him toward the back of the house. “No more talking.”
Through a window, Travis watched an attractive Latin-American woman prepare food in the kitchen and turn with a smile on her face when Jordan entered the room. Relief flooded him as she accepted a plate and helped herself to whatever was cooking on the stove. Both women seated themselves at the small kitchen table. It didn’t appear that Jordan was treated as a prisoner and held against her will. She’d showered and found clean clothes, her dark almost-black hair still damp, curling over her shoulders. No fear or anxiety marred her features. Her beautiful brown eyes sparkled when she smiled and conversed with the other woman. The only evidence of mistreatment was the bruises she’d received while at Brody’s camp.
He caught movement at the kitchen doorway. Jake? He survived, but how did the floppy-eared fleabag find her? The last time Travis had seen the dog, he lay crumpled and limp against a church wall, unaware that his self-chosen mistress had been hauled away.
The dog’s attention centered on the other woman. Travis was no expert in canine behavior, but how Jake watched Carmen was night-and-day different from the adoring gaze he’d leveled on Jordan from the first time he’d seen her. The animal tracked Carmen’s every move, and when she rose to take her dishes to the sink, the dog’s lips drew back in a snarl, and the hair stood up along his back. Jordan turned and said something to him, and Jake laid his head down, looking only slightly repentant.
Evidently, things weren’t quite as affable as they seemed. The dog clearly sensed danger to Jordan, even though she seemed unaware. Given a choice, Travis would trust Jake’s instincts since Jordan had a history of being duped. First Alex, then Brody. It wasn’t the first time she’d landed herself in trouble believing the wrong people.
Travis dragged Halstead back the way they’d come. At the front door, he quickly slit the tie that bound the other man, then pressed the gun into the small of his back. “In and out,” he said in a low voice. “I get Jordan, and no one gets hurt.”
Halstead snorted. “And I get my cargo back, right?”
“That’s the deal.” Travis shoved him forward.
Halstead tried the door, found it locked, and banged on it with his fist. A moment passed before Carmen swung it open.
A brilliant smile lit up her face. “Joe, I thought you’d never get here.”
Halstead stepped through the door, followed by Travis. When the woman saw him with the gun pointed at the object of her happiness, her smile faded, replaced with confusion. “What’s going on?”
“Shut up.” Halstead brushed past her.
Travis grabbed the woman’s arm and pulled her along with them.
“Let go of me.” She tried to jerk away. “You’re hurting me.”
He tightened his hold, forcing her to keep up. As they spilled through the doorway into the kitchen, Jake’s menacing growl rumbled deep in his throat. “Chill out, Jake.” Travis’s quiet command resulted in a half-hearted swish of the dog’s tail as he retreated to stand in front of Jordan.
Fear filled her eyes when Halstead entered, followed by relief and what might have been gladness as her gaze settled on Travis. He didn’t have time to consider the spark of satisfaction that flashed through his mind. Irritation dispelled Jordan's glad-to-see-you moment when he propelled the protesting woman toward the table.
“Still bullying women, I see.” Her sharp words pushed his guilt button, as she’d undoubtedly intended.
“A conversation for another time, Jordan.”
“Let Carmen go. She works for the FBI, and Special Agent Roberts asked her to bring me here.”
No surprise since Halstead had already let that secret slip, but Roberts was usually a better judge of character. On the other hand, Halstead had had a lot of experience buying people. “Carmen might work for Roberts, but she moonlights for Halstead, feeding him information and warning him when the feds get too close. Halstead owns this place, and he knew right where to find you because he told her to bring you here.”
Carmen would have turned Jordan over to a killer with no remorse. Though lucky to be alive, the wariness in Jordan’s expression said she was once again unsure if she should trust him. Travis had bumped up against her stubborn streak before, but he didn’t have time to argue right now.
“Just get your coat. We’re leaving.” His gaze met and held hers, silencing any protest she might have launched. “Trust me a little longer, Jordan. I haven’t lied to you yet, and I won’t start now.”
She hesitated a heartbeat before nodding. “It’s upstairs. I’ll just be a second.” She hurried toward the door. Jake started to follow, but Jordan told him to stay.
Travis shoved Carmen toward Halstead and motioned them into chairs at the table. He rummaged through drawers and cupboards until he found a roll of duct tape, then bound Halstead’s arms around the back of a chair and secured Carmen in her seat.
“We had a bargain,” Halstead said. “Where are my weapons?”
Travis grinned. He hadn’t promised to refrain from lying to Halstead. “Don’t worry. You’ll see it all at your trial.”
*****
JORDAN JOGGED UP THE stairs. She’d been so glad to see Travis alive, yet her gut reaction was to suspect him of lying. His rough treatment of Carmen infuriated her. Was the poor woman doing Halstead’s bidding? If so, Jordan had been a prisoner since they left FBI headquarters and survived only because Travis had intervened again and saved her life. She owed him her trust and so much more. Yeah, I’m safe with him. Right?
Damn it! Alex had made her feel safe, once upon a time, as had Carmen, Coop, and Travis. If Jordan was that naïve, it was a miracle she’d made it on her own for twenty-six years. How could she be sure Travis didn’t have malicious intentions also? Maybe she couldn’t trust anyone.
She gathered her dirty clothes from the bathroom and then dropped them in the trash after realizing she would only burn them later. Her coat, filthy with mud, dirt, and pitch from pine trees, would have to do until she could get home, so she slipped her arms in the sleeves. Looking around one final time for anything she might have left, she gave the soft, clean bed she’d hoped to sleep in one last glance. Hopefully, they wouldn’t have to sleep on the ground tonight. Immediately, the fact she would be sleeping as opposed to dying filled her with equal amounts of shame and gratitude. She shivered and pulled her coat tighter. Why is it so cold in here? Her gaze swept to the window. It’s open. Jordan hadn’t opened the window, but processing that information took far too long.
Pain exploded in the back of her head, sending her sprawling face down on the bed. She fought to retain consciousness as her attacker’s weight pressed her into the soft pillowtop. Unable to move or turn her face to draw a breath, the mattress muffled her cries. Her lungs hurt, and a moment of clarity told her she was suffocating. Desperation kicked in, and she fought harder but couldn’t dislodge the body holding her down.
A hand grasped her hair and jerked her head up. She gulped air into her burning lungs even as the searing pain on her scalp brought tears to her eyes.
“I’ve missed you, Jordan.”
The voice wormed through her like slime. Brody! He leered as she stared sideways to see his face. “You...”
“That’s right, darlin’. It’s your old friend, Brody. I promised you a good time, remember? I’ve been looking forward to this.” He leaned over her, forcing his mouth over hers, crushing and brutal.
She struggled anew, ignoring the pain and the taste of stale whiskey on his lips. He held her head where he wanted it while he assaulted her mouth, plunging his tongue deep enough to gag her. She couldn’t budge the weight that pinned her down, couldn’t pull away, could only endure his attack. Forcing herself to save her energy, she stopped fighting. Abruptly, he released her mouth and bit her earlobe hard. She clamped her lips shut to keep from crying out.
“I like it when you fight, darlin’. Once I get you someplace where we won’t be interrupted, I’m gonna like hearing you scream too. We’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other. And we won’t have to worry about your boyfriend overhearing us having fun. You should have stayed away from him.” Brody shoved himself off the bed and pulled her with him, pressing a gun into her side. “Do everything I say, and you’ll stay alive.”
The crazy in his eyes promised he wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger. With one hand banded around her neck, he propelled Jordan through the doorway to the stairway landing. The sound of ripping duct tape reached her as they descended step by step.
Why hadn’t she been paying attention? She should have noticed the open window sooner. Now, she was helpless to save herself. Worse, her carelessness had endangered Travis and Carmen. There was no telling what Brody would do to anyone who got in his way. Clearly, he didn’t have anything good planned for her. Fear took a foothold, and her body trembled. Not wanting to set him off, she moved where he guided, stopped when he stopped, and waited for an opportunity with whatever that might bring. She had nothing left to lose.
At the bottom of the stairs, instead of moving closer to the front door, Brody turned toward the kitchen. Was he going to set Halstead free? There’d be no warning for Travis and Carmen. Jordan needed to make some noise.
Brody jerked her in front of him as though he'd read her thoughts. He slid his arm over her shoulder and around her neck until he held her tightly against him, the gun pressing hard into her temple.
“Careful now,” he breathed in her ear. “Wouldn’t take anything to snap your neck.” He shoved her forward in short, awkward movements.
His forearm, pressed against her throat, constricted her breathing, and she gasped between steps. Just before they burst through the doorway, Jake came to his feet, a snarl curling his lips. Travis whirled to face the door in a half-crouch, tossed the roll of tape, and reached for his gun. Halstead and Carmen were bound in chairs by the table, and Carmen’s eyes widened with fear.
Brody seemed pleased by their surprised expressions. Keeping a close eye on Travis, he snickered. “Unless you’re feeling really lucky, you’ll want to put down that handgun.”
Travis straightened and lowered his arm. His dark gaze flickered over Jordan for an instant before returning to the man who held her captive. “Let her go.”
Brody chuckled softly. “Now, why would I do that? She’s my ticket out of here.”
“Take me if you need a hostage.”
“That idea isn’t nearly as attractive.” Brody lightly stroked Jordan’s cheek with the barrel of his gun.
Anger flared in Travis’s eyes. “If you hurt her, I will hunt you down and kill you slowly.”
“Enough,” roared Halstead. “Kill them both and get this over with.”
Brody turned slightly toward his boss as though he only now noticed him. “You first.” He aimed the gun.
Fear appeared in Halstead’s eyes an instant before the blast deafened Jordan. The bullet struck Halstead in the chest, the impact flipping his chair over, and his head smacked the floor. Carmen screamed as Travis surged forward, but too late. Brody swung back, pointing his gun at Travis.
Shock overwhelmed Jordan, and she squeezed her eyes closed but snapped them open again when the back door crashed against the wall. Glass shattered, and the lights went out, leaving just enough moonlight for her to spot the newcomer, moving swiftly for cover behind the center island. Travis scrambled for the other end of the cabinet as Brody fired blindly at anything that moved. Still taped in her seat, Carmen increased Jordan’s confusion over whose side the woman was on to a new level.
“Travis, you okay?” Coop yelled from the darkness somewhere in front of her and down low.
“Yeah. You?”
“Reasonably well.”
Amid the violence, with the smell of blood in her nostrils, Jordan couldn’t help smiling at the humor in their voices. Brody shoved her to the floor and crouched beside her. A cool breeze swelled through the open doorway, drawing attention to the way out. Brody crept toward the exit, pulling her dead weight along. She’d be damned if she’d cooperate in his escape.
At the table, he paused long enough to slash the bindings from Carmen’s wrists and ankles, then yanked her and Jordan to their feet. Using both women as shields, he backed into the night.
Travis swore, and running footsteps neared the open doorway. Brody heard too and fired a shot into the kitchen. Jake yelped.
“Run,” Brody snarled, pulling her through the rocks, sagebrush, and junipers. She couldn’t see the uneven ground, and it was all she could do to stay on her feet. Carmen ran too. Her footsteps and soft whimpering followed Jordan through the brush. She must be terrified.
There was little solace in knowing they were slowing down Brody’s escape. Would it be enough for Travis to catch up? Would he come for her after she’d doubted him yet again? She couldn’t bear to think about what would happen if he didn’t.