She rushed after him, heading to where they had stashed go bags for just in case. “Where’s the third?”
“I don’t plan to stay here long enough to find out.”
Zeyla rushed in the front door. “Maizie!”
The young woman stumbled out of one of the bedroom doors a second before Preston emerged at the end of the hall, wiggling his feet into a pair of running shoes as he walked. He grabbed the strap of Maizie’s backpack and righted it for her where she was struggling to get it on her shoulder.
Jax grabbed his duffel and Kenna’s, and Preston tossed him the keys to their armored car.
Preston said, “Rendezvous point?”
Maizie, at the door with Zeyla now, glanced back. Fear on her face. Kenna said, “Go!” The two women would take the RV and use a fire road to escape the property. Kenna prayed the work Preston had done filling in potholes and smoothing out the rough dirt track had held.
“Yes.” Jax grabbed Kenna’s hand, and they headed for the kitchen, out the side door to the covered car port that kept the car out of sight. It was far too heavily armored to be towed by the RV, so they had to drive separately, taking a different route Preston had mapped out.
But would they meet the third SUV on their way? Or would Maizie and Zeyla?
Preston ran out the door. “Get going! I’m going to check with the team, then I’ll be gone, too.”
Across the back lawn, the chopper engine whirred to life.
“Sure you don’t want to fly?” Jax asked her over the roof of their car.
“No, I don’t.” She slid in the passenger’s side. “Sure you feel okay to drive?”
“Adrenaline is a good pain reliever.” He shoved the lever to drive and hit the gas.
“Until it dissipates, and you can’t move because you hurt so bad.”
“We’ll burn that bridge when we come to it.” He gripped the wheel with both hands, bumping over the grass toward a track that skirted the cornfield.
Kenna grabbed the door handle and held on.
Chapter Fourteen
Jax whipped the car around a tight corner.
Kenna held her breath, praying in her mind, which she hadn’t stopped doing since they left the ranch.
He had his phone in the dash clip, the screen open to the walkie-talkie app. If Zeyla and Maizie or Preston hit thetalkbutton on their devices, it would immediately play—about as live as it could get.
She scanned the terrain where the dirt track wound through tall pine trees that disguised them from anyone behind them for a few seconds after every bend. The sky had no clouds, just a mass of bright blue that looked more pleasant than this day was turning out to be.
No one was visible in the side mirror; the view of the road behind them was empty. But did that mean they were going to get out of here without running into anyone?
Kenna laid her free hand over the baby.
“You both okay?” Jax gripped the wheel, all his attention on the road. But not all his focus.
“We’re fine,” Kenna said. “Do you think whoever planted these trees knew we’d be using them as cover for evasion?”
Jax hit the gas on a straight stretch of road. “Preston told me the house was owned by a guy from Chicago. It’s the height of the Depression, and he leaves the city and settles in the middle of nowhere, Colorado? The house has a load of secret cupboards behind panels in the walls, and he told me there’s a tunnel between the house and the barn. But it collapsed years ago, so it’s unusable.”
“A gangster from Chicago?” That sounded interesting. “He was probably fleeing the law or someone trying to kill him. Like a rival.”
“Turns out he single-handedly revived the local economy. Hired residents to help out around the house. Threw parties and gave gifts to local food banks. The church. The medical center. He kept the people in this area from starving.”
“Wow. A gangster Santa.”
