Unsure of what to say, she shook her head.
“Don’t lie to me. I saw you two together.” The man shoved her aside, putting his hand back on the steering wheel. “You know, most men would be willing to trade anything to get their woman back. Of course, Cain’s known to be another one of those good-reputation agents. Honest to the core.”
What should she do? Say? Lie. Lie like her life depended on it. “We used to be together. But we had an argument.”
James reached over and touched her hair again. “That works, too. I’ll just keep you and the millions all for myself.”
She flinched. “I swear I don’t know where it’s at.”
A few rabbits skittered across the open ground. James jerked the Gladiator to the right. The truck tilted slightly off the ground on two wheels. "That's a problem, lady. In fact, why do I even need you? Why should I even keep you alive? You see, all I want is money. Without the two million, the boss man won’t pay me my million for the hit on Phillip and the million he still owes me from before over twenty years ago. So I'd suggest you think a little harder and come up with the money?”
“What do you mean the hit on Phillip?” she asked.
“Nothing. You’re hearing things, lady. I didn’t say anything about Phillip.”
She knew what she’d heard. Exactly what all did this guy do for Mr. Partner? What all had he done? And how did Papa C figure into all this? Had Papa C been involved in Phillip’s death? James had also said two million dollars. Where had the other million come from?”
“You said the other million you're still owed" Betsy couldn’t stand not knowing. "Are you the one who killed my dad?”
“No!” He looked away from the horizon and glanced in her direction. “But I killed the man who’d pulled the trigger.” He laughed. “I’m the one who cleans up afterwards and I get a million for that, also.”
“Did you?—”
“Shut up. You ask too many questions. Where’s the money?”
Realizing there were no morals or scruples running through him, she considered all her options. Cain was the one that kept coming forward in her mind. If this didn’t work, then she’d just be putting Cain in danger. Even if it did work, she’d put Cain in danger. But, for some reason, that seemed like the right thing to do. Like what Cain would tell her to do. Without the danger, there’d be no way to stay alive.
“I gave it to Cain.” Her voice loud and strong, Betsy lied. “We plan to move out west and buy a ranch.”
“I knew you were lying earlier. You’re Cain’s woman. It makes sense that you gave it to him.” James stopped the Gladiator and jumped out. “That’s even better.”
He yanked the passenger door open, released her seatbelt, pulled a knife from beneath the seat and sliced the zip tie on her wrist free from the crossbar. He yanked her out so fast, she fell hard on the packed dirt. Lashing out with her legs and feet and free hand, she plowed her foot into James’s knee. He buckled but caught himself and yanked her arm. She aimed for his crotch with her second kick but missed when he rolled away.
He came back with a vengeance and shoved his gun in her face. “You try that again, I’ll shoot you where you lay.” His upper lip curled into a fierce sneer as he shoved her back. “Don’t think for a second I was joking when I left you that message on the mirror.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Flashing police lights caught Cain’s attention as he barreled out of Crayton heading toward Papa C’s house and surrounding acreage ten or fifteen minutes away. He slowed as the police cars neared, letting JB and Evans pass him to take the lead. Kennett pulled in behind him with a few others following him, but Cain knew the cars he saw weren’t the only ones heading to the same location. Law enforcement from surrounding areas had to be closing in, also.
At the three-way junction seven miles out of town on the two-lane road, JB and Evans turned right toward Papa C’s house a mile down. No doubt the cars behind him would follow them.
Cain turned left on a dime. Kennett followed his lead. The others didn’t. Guess Kennett had orders. Of course, he got the impression that Kennett occasionally made his own decisions.
Broken fence rails and fresh tire tracks across the ditch caught his attention. On the other side of the road sat an older truck, half on, half off the pavement as if it had been run off the road.
Without another thought, he pulled to the shoulder on his side of the road and jumped from his truck. “Betsy! Betsy!”
Limping out of the field, tow man Randy stopped, bent over and braced his hands on the top of his thighs. Blood trickled from beneath his left hand. “I’ve been shot.”
Kennett ran over and held the man up as he put in a call for medical assistance.
“What happened?” Cain asked.
“I heard the vehicle pursuit on my police scanner. When I passed the black Gladiator, I whipped my truck around to follow.” Randy moaned. “Looked like Ms. Peyton kept hitting the driver until he lost control and plowed through the fence. Got stuck.”
Randy yelled in pain as Cain tried to stop the bleeding. “Saw the guy get out and try to push the Gladiator out of the hole.”
“What’d he have on? Look like?” Cain always asked the questions even if he thought he already had the answers.
