Shine On Oklahoma Read online

  Somewhere, a door slammed. “Move it!” a deep voice roared. “Find that sneaky sonofabitch!”

  Okay, he hadn’t made it a mile. He hadn’t even made it a hundred feet. When he looked in the direction that voice—Caine’s voice—had come from, he had a clear view of the old farmhouse with its peeling white paint and weed-patch border. Ace and Phil were heading into the woods, in two directions. Caine was heading in another. None of them were coming directly toward him.

  He got to his feet, but stayed in a low crouch, keeping them in sight, moving to the furthest spot from them, around behind the farmhouse. He wasn’t going to get away from them. Not on foot, he wasn’t. His grave would be a shallow one in this scrub-lot if he didn’t put some distance between him and them fast.

  He checked his pockets again, found his phone with the shattered screen. He’d known that already. He’d tried to send a distress call, hadn’t he?

  No time. Not now. He might have a chance, and it might be his last one. He crept to the edge of the trees, right up to the waist-high weeds that had once been the farmhouse’s back yard. He could hear Caine and Phil and Ace crashing through the woods, looking for him.

  Fine. He had one chance, the way he saw it. If it didn’t work, he was dead, but he was dead if he didn’t try it too. He dashed through the weeds to the back door. It was unlocked, the first piece of good luck he’d had so far. He opened it and ducked inside, racing through that place like his feet were on fire. Kitchen. Nothing. Dining room, nothing but the humidor and the whiskey. Living room. Score. A set of keys on a Cadillac keyring right on the makeshift coffee table. He grabbed them. Then he ran back through the dining room and paused.

  Yeah, why not?

  He grabbed the whiskey and cigars, and headed back through the kitchen, and out the back door again. He took time to listen for them. He couldn’t hear much, which probably meant they’d gone farther away. So he crept around the house, and quiet as a mouse, put his treasures into the Caddy, closed the door so softly it didn’t even latch. Then he yanked his pocket knife out and went to the SUV that belonged to either Phil or Ace. Probably Phil. He jabbed the knife into three tires, stabbing into the sidewall and ripping forward to ensure they’d go flat faster. As he got to the fourth tire, front driver’s side, he saw through the window that the keys were in the switch. Well, hell. He took them and ran back to the Caddy.

  They were gonna hear him start the motor. There was no question about it. And there was only one road. He held his breath, cranked the key, slammed the car into gear and stomped it. The back tires spewed dirt and gravel, then caught. He took off like the very devil was after him, keeping his head low in case they came out of those trees shooting.

  But they never did.

  #

  “Oh, God, oh God, oh God,” Kendra whispered, pushing back her hair with one hand, tapping the phone locator app with the other. Jack must’ve activated his, and if he had, that meant he was in trouble.

  He was always about the backup plans, and he loved technology. Said it had revolutionized the business. She was grateful for that as she read the notification on her screen.

  PHONE FINDER has been activated for one of the devices on your account. That device has been located.

  She could hear her father’s voice just as clearly as if he was standing there beside her.

  “Old-school scammers have to adapt or go extinct. Tech is either an opportunity to con better than ever before, or the end of your career. You get to choose. Me? I’m gonna ride the wave.”

  Jack Kellogg, con-man philosopher.

  She tapped the “Send to Map” button, and it opened, showing a road map with a pulsing blue dot on it, and a “Start” button for turn-by-turn driving directions.

  Her father was in Oklahoma. And not very far away, either. An hour, in the ‘Vette.

  She pocketed the phone and yanked opened the closet to pull out a small hard-shell case. It was ivory-colored with lavender blossoms all over it and looked about big enough to serve as a makeup bag. It was a case she’d hoped never to have to open, but she had to now. She took out her handgun. It was shiny silver, brand new. She’d never even fired the thing, but she knew how. Jack made sure his daughters knew how to handle firearms, just in case. He hated the things, said any con who had to resort to violence, much less gun violence, shouldn’t be in the game. But he also believed that in their business, it was better to have one and know how to use it, than not. There was no telling how mad a mark might get.

  The gun, a 9-millimeter Ruger, had been a Christmas present from Jack two years ago. She checked that the safety was on and the barrel empty, then filled the magazine. She was already wearing jeans, but her blouse had to go. It was low-cut and sexy, chosen with Dax on her mind. She took it off and pulled on a T-shit that fit snug and moved easy. Her stilettos would be useless in a fight, so she traded them for soft socks and lightweight black hiking shoes. She put the black leather jacket back on, shoved the gun into her right pocket, spare clip in her left. She grabbed her purse off the bed where she’d thrown it, and started back outside, but her phone rang.

  She was so wrought up, she answered it without looking first. “Jack?”

  “No, it’s me,” Dax said.

  “Oh.” She sighed, disappointed to her bones. “I can’t talk now, Dax, I—”

  “What’s going on? You sound upset.”

  “Having your father threatened by killers is upsetting. Sue me.” She went outside and down the back stairs.

  “Shouldn’t he be free by now? Isn’t that what your ruse with the newspaper was supposed to accomplish?”

  “Yes, it is, and no, he isn’t. I don’t—” Her voice broke. Her eyes burned. She hurried around the building to where someone had parked her ‘Vette, unlocked it. “I don’t know if he’s okay. I don’t know if he’s already…”

  “You haven’t heard from him,” he said.

  “He activated a phone location app. Hours ago, and I had the damn sound off because I was all wrapped up in…” You, was the word she didn’t say. “He wouldn’t have done that if he wasn’t in trouble.”

  “So, wait, you know where he is, then.”

  “I know where his phone is.”

  “Okay, good. Then we’ll go—”

  “I’m already going.” She put him on speaker, pulled-out the car’s ashtray drawer, and used it as a phone holder.

  “Alone? Kendra, wait for me. I’m on my way.”

  She put the car into reverse and backed out of the spot. “I don’t have time to wait. Any second might be one second too long, Dax.” She shifted and drove out of the parking lot and up the curved drive to the road. She hit the pavement, and his Charger skidded to a stop just before hitting her.

  “I’m already here,” he said.

  She never slowed down. If anything she went faster. But he followed. And the call was still connected. She kept looking into the rearview mirror. He kept on coming.

  She said, “I need you to stop, Dax. Go back to Big Falls.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  He hesitated for long seconds as she caught gears and picked up speed. “I’m just doing what I feel I have to do, okay? So where are you going? Where does this app thing say his phone is?”

  “About eighty miles east. Hang on.” She glanced at the phone while driving, which was stupid, but she had to see the Share button to tap it. So she did, briefly, and the app texted Dax the coordinates. “Just in case you can’t keep up.”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  Kiley smiled very slightly. She’d given in too easily, and she knew it. She didn’t want her kind of trouble touching Dax any more than it already had. But the truth was, she was afraid she was going to walk into some cheap motel room or abandoned hovel and find her father with a neat round bullet hole his forehead. The truth was, she felt better knowing Dax was right behind her. She’d feel better yet if he was in the car beside her, but she hadn’t dared take the t
ime to switch cars.

  She looked in the rearview mirror, saw him behind her. It felt good. “Thanks, Dax.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  She sniffled and swallowed, a giant wave of relief crashing over her like a breaker over a dry and thirsty shore. And just as quickly it receded and something else came. Something cold and dark. She still had ice water running up and down her spine. Jack would have to be facing certain death to send his location and scare her this badly. And it had already been hours. She’d had her stupid fight with Dax and subsequent panic attack like an amateur. Caring about people was the stupidest thing a con could do.

  And she’d done it. She’d done it in spades. She loved her sister more than she’d ever realized, and she loved Kiley’s cow-eyed husband too. She loved little Diana more than words could say and she hadn’t even met her yet.

  She loved Dax Russell.

  She did. She loved him. Good God, there was no hope for her now.

  She pressed harder on the gas and she drove.

  #

  The pulsing blue dot led them to a cheap motel called the Roadside Lodge. It had two long narrow buildings with rooms, each with a front door and a back door, and parking spots outside both. The only car there was a sweet-ass Caddy parked behind Room 2. She skidded the ‘Vette to a halt right beside it, dove out of the car and lunged toward the door as Dax’s Charger stopped behind her, making way too much noise. He was out of it before the engine even had time to quit.

  “Kendra, wait!”

  For a big guy, he sure could move fast. He was behind her clasping her shoulders before she even made it to the white door with the tacky metallic gold trim and a 2 stenciled dead center. The owners hadn’t even sprung for the metal kind that you had to attach. Just paint and a stencil. The gold had bled onto the white. She wanted to slam that ugly door off its hinges and go get her father. But Dax squeezed gently.

  “Just in case someone’s in there with him,” he said soft, near her ear. “Let’s just take a peek before we go bustin’ in.”

  Her hand clenched and unclenched on the gun in her pocket. Dax’s nearness couldn’t break the hold fear had on her. If Vester Caine had hurt Jack—She slid her fingertip back and forth over the safety catch. She’d never thought she had it in her to shoot someone, but now she wondered if maybe she did.

  “Come on.” Moving beside her, Dax let one hand rest on her opposite hip, and crouched low as they crept to the small window. They peered inside through the bottom edge of the beige curtains.

  Jack Kellogg was sitting up on the bed, one arm behind his head, watching TV. He had a motel issue water glass half-full of amber liquid in his hand and a cigar clenched in his teeth. It was fat and brown and sending a ribbon of gray smoke to the ceiling where it became a cloud. She could smell it from where she was. A bottle of whiskey stood on the nightstand beside a wad of cash. Jack smiled at something on the TV while its light and shadows shifted on his face.

  “That son of a—” Kendra lunged away from the window and pounded on the ugly door beside it. “Jack! It’s Kendra. Open up!”

  There was shuffling, swearing, and then Jack opened up the door, still hopping to get his pants up over his boxers. “Kendra! Damn I’m glad to see you.” He patted her shoulder in lieu of a hug and gave her his best fake smile, which wasn’t good enough to fool her. “Good news, little girl. I got away.”

  She punched him right in the face. His nose cracked and his body turned sideways from the force of the blow. The impact recoiled through her fisted hand and up her arm.

  Jack stumbled backwards, and bent over, holding his nose with one hand. There was blood. “You better start explaining fast, Jack or I swear to God—”

  “You’re reading this all wrong, kiddo.” The words were muffled by his hand. He lifted his head but didn’t look her in the eye. “I fed the two thugs chili-con-Benadryl and they went out like lights, but when I headed out the door, there was Vester Caine himself on his way in.”

  “Save the bullshit,” she said. “You broke the code, Jack. You don’t game family.”

  “Uh, yeah, your sister broke it first. And you helped.”

  She felt her eyes widen.

  “Yeah, I know you helped her pull one over on the old man. But that’s beside the point.” He held up the arm that wasn’t busy with his nose. The entire forearm was purple and brown. “Caine threw me into the basement, broke my freakin’ arm, I think. Scrambled my brain a little bit too.”

  She wouldn’t put it past him to cause his own injuries. She’d seen him do it before, to lend credence to a story. But maybe not this bad. His arm looked damn awful.

  Dax said, “Your nose is bleeding, Jack.”

  “I’m aware of that, Dax.”

  Kendra stomped past her father and into the bathroom, where she cranked on the cold water and soaked a couple of washcloths. “Keep talking.”

  “Caine was gonna shoot me right there, when he saw his guys out cold like that. Would have, if not for you, Kendra. Your text saved my ass, made him decide to keep me alive until morning.”

  She came out of the bathroom while he was still talking, handed him an ice cold, wet cloth and he pressed it to his bleeding nose.

  Dax was looking at her, a question in his eyes.

  “I texted the kidnappers that there would be proof I’d complied with their demands in the morning edition of the Free Times.”

  Dax lowered his chin, aimed his eyes past his own left shoulder, like he couldn’t look at her. Like the reminder of her deception caused him physical pain.

  “I reclaimed my phone and a pocket knife during my first escape attempt. Idiot didn’t bother to search me before kicking me ass over elbow down that flight of stairs. I didn’t remember if I’d managed to activate that phone locator app or not before I passed out. Didn’t know if it would even work. Screen was shattered. Apparently, it did.”

  “And then what?”

  “I passed out for a while. When I came to, I pried out a casement window and ran for my life. Wasn’t sure if that newspaper text was a ruse or not, and I was pretty sure Caine was gonna off me either way, so I got my ass outta there. Passed out in the woods before I got very far.”

  “Uh-huh.” She was eying the room, the whiskey, the cigars, the other set of keys on the nightstand. “And you what, went shopping while running for your life?”

  “Slipped back inside when they started searching the woods for me. Took the keys to the only other vehicle, slashed its tires, and helped myself to some cash, whiskey and cigars for my trouble. Took Caine’s car, too.” He sounded proud of it. “He’s gonna realize he messed with the wrong guy.”

  “He’s gonna be furious. He’s not gonna let this go, Jack.”

  “I don’t plan to be anyplace he can find me,” he said. “Matter of fact, I was just about to leave for parts unknown.” He sent her a quick look. “I was gonna call you first, tell you goodbye, of course.”

  “That’s real thoughtful of you, Jack. So you just hurl a hornet’s nest at Kiley and me—at your baby granddaughter—and then run like hell. That’s real nice.”

  “What do you…?” But he knew. She saw when it dawned on his face.

  “That’s right, Jack. If Caine can’t find you, who the hell do you think he’s gonna take it out on?”

  A phone rang. Jack answered it.

  “Put it on speaker!” Kendra’s voice came out so hard and commanding she didn’t even recognize it. Then she lunged at her father, snatched the phone from his hand, and tapped the speaker icon herself. The glass screen was shattered, just like he’d said.

  “Nice job getting Russell to accept the track and call off the snooping CPA,” it said. “Needless to say, though, you are not getting paid. You broke the deal.”

  Paid? Kiley shot her father a look of disbelief, her brain going into overdrive.

  “Meanwhile, I have your daughter. Didn’t know you had a grandkid on the way. I’d say

  congratulations, but it might be p
remature.”

  Kendra whispered Kiley’s name. It felt like all the blood in her body turned to ice and fell to her feet. She was dizzy. Jack’s face went white. Every bit of swagger and cockiness just dissolved.

  Dax moved closer and leaned in. “This is Dax Russell. I assume I’m talking to Vester Caine.”

  “You assume right.”

  “Mr. Caine. You can do whatever the hell you want with the track. You can run it, for all I care. Just don’t hurt Kiley.”

  “That’s real nice of you, Mr. Russell, but with all the trouble you and Jack were making for me, I went ahead and made other arrangements for my needs. You can shove your damn racetrack. Turn your back on a fucking fortune cause you’re mad at Daddy. Who does that? Listen, I don’t want your track. I don’t need it anymore. All I want right now is Jack Kellogg and if I don’t get him, I’m gonna kill his daughter and his grandkid.”

  Jack reached out and snatched the phone. “It’s Jack. Let me talk to her.”

  “You can talk to her when you keep the bargain.”

  “If I don’t hear her voice, there’s not gonna be a bargain.”

  “What the hell are you doing?” Kendra yanked the phone from him and turned away.

  “Don’t listen to him. I’ll bring him to you myself, just… are you there? Hello? Hello?”

  He was gone.

  Kendra lifted her stricken gaze to Dax’s, then turned toward her old man. “Are you trying to get my sister killed?”

  “He’s not gonna hurt your sister,” Jack said.

  She stood there blinking at him, wishing she could shoot him and wondering why she didn’t. “You hate her for betraying you.”

  “This hasn’t got anything to do with that.” Jack grabbed the Caddy keys off the dresser, then started gathering up all the rest as well. It was more than he could carry in one arm, the humidor, the bottle.

  “What did he mean, about you not getting paid?”

  “No idea.”

  She blinked at him as the pieces clicked together in her mind. “You did this. You did all of this, didn’t you? You weren’t kidnapped at all. You made a deal with Caine. You tricked me into conning Dax again, when you knew…you knew…”