He hung up the phone and turned back to Linc. “That was Jason Maddox. He’s a PI and bail enforcement. Works with Cassidy at Maximum Security. He’s afraid they’ll come after her again.”
“You realize it might not just be Cassidy they’re after.”
“I’ve considered it.” He was no dummy, either. “I think they figure if my PI is out of the way, I’ll give up the search.”
“Will you?”
“My father is dead. Nothing is going to bring him back. I won’t risk getting Cassidy killed, too.”
“Now you’re being smart. The trouble is, it might be too late.”
He nodded. “Yeah, I’ve considered that, too.”
“I realize you’ve been off the streets for a while—we both left that life behind years ago. But knowing how to handle yourself isn’t something you forget. You still got that old Browning forty-five you used to shoot out at the dump when we were kids?”
Beau smiled faintly at the memory of their high school days. The smile faded as his mind shifted to the attempted robbery, the two years Linc had spent in prison, while Beau’s dad had been able to wipe his underage record clean.
“I traded the Browning a few years back for a Glock seventeen. Haven’t been on the shooting range for a while.”
“Good weapon. As I recall, you used to be a crack shot.”
Beau didn’t deny it. When he took on a challenge, he didn’t stop till he’d mastered it. Same with martial arts. Same with racing cars. “You think I should start carrying?”
“You’ve got a concealed permit, right? Wouldn’t hurt to be prepared. Figure out what’s going on. Arm yourself and take care of your woman.”
A muscle jerked in Beau’s cheek. “She isn’t my woman.”
“Isn’t she? I saw you in that hospital room. I’ve known you too long, bro. Don’t kid yourself.”
Beau made no reply. He’d brought Cassidy into this mess. Until it was finished, she was his responsibility. There was no changing that. But when it was over, it was over. There was no changing that, either.
He pushed up from his chair. “I need to get back.”
Linc stood up, too. “Think about what I said, and if you need anything, just ask.”
Whatever happened, Beau knew Linc would be there for him. If the situation were reversed, he’d be there for Linc. It had been that way since high school, and that hadn’t changed.
As they walked back down the hall, worry dogged him. He needed to get Cassidy somewhere safe.
Beau had a bad feeling it wasn’t going to be that easy.
* * *
Clifford Jennings stood on the opposite side of the desk from his boss. Mal Vaughn wasn’t happy at the moment.
He looked down at the society page of the ThursdayDallas Morning Newsspread open in front of him. Vaughn picked it up and started reading.
“‘A Lamborghini owned by former Texas race-car driver Beaumont Reese, valued in the hundreds of thousands of dollars, was involved in an unsolved two-car collision on Wednesday evening outside Kaufman.’”
Vaughn flicked Cliff a dark look over the top of the paper, started reading again. “‘The female driver of the borrowed vehicle, identified as Cassidy Maryann Jones, was taken to a nearby hospital for treatment and releasedthe following day. Police are searching for the driver of a white Chevy pickup found a few miles away. According to authorities, the man, who fled the scene, is wanted for questioning in the accident. Both Reese and Ms. Jones, a Dallas private investigator, refused to comment on the incident.’”
Vaughn flicked the paper, carefully closed it, folded it, and set it down on top of his desk. “You said you could handle this. It doesn’t look handled to me.”
“The guy I hired is reliable. I don’t know what went wrong. Whatever happened, he’ll take care of it.”
“You think Reese and Jones will believe the attempt was an accident?”
Not after the first time, which his boss didn’t know about. Cliff knew better than to lie. “No. Franco botched his first effort, too. I’ll talk to him, see if he can come up with something that’ll work.”
