Page 44 of Nick
“Hang on a second.” He turned to Shiloh. “Find anything?”
“Besides the fact we’re dealing with a bunch of amateurs? There’s a GPS tracker inside the driver’s side bumper. Took about thirty seconds to find it.”
“Probably why they told Nick to drive his rental, so they can track his movements. Bro, can we piggyback on their GPS signal, or put another one on the car so we can follow Nick?”
“Already done. Gimme your phone and I’ll upload the program so you can have his back.” Rafe passed his phone to his brother, and Nick balled his hands into fists. Though they were trying to help, they were wasting time. Time Gracie didn’t have. He needed to be on the road before the cousins did something foolish.
“You know you’re walking into a trap, right? Nick, you’ve got to play things smart. You’re a trained professional. Keep your wits about you. You handle Bishop and Norville. We’ll make sure Gracie’s taken care of.”
“I understand.” He mouthed the words already knowing he’d do whatever it took to keep Gracie safe. No matter what, she deserved her second chance, to find happiness. Whether that was with him or not, he’d make sure she got her shot.
“He’s not going to listen to a word you’re saying, son,” Douglas put a hand on Nick’s shoulder. “You’d be the same in his shoes. When the woman you love is in danger, nothing else matters except saving them. Follow him, provide backup, and be there if things go south.”
“You can’t follow me. If they see you—”
“They won’t see anybody. We’ll track you by GPS the same way they are, and can close in the minute you give the word. Which means, we need to wire you up.”
“No! The second they feel it’s a trap, they’ll kill her.”
“Guys, we don’t have time for this. Nick, you are not going in there without backup. I’ll knock you out and put you in a cell if I have to. Shiloh’s got one of his newfangled gadgets he’s been dying to try out, and you’re the best-case scenario he’s had in ages.”
Shiloh held out his hand, and resting on his palm was a tiny device no bigger than a nickel, slim and flat. “What are you going to do with that?”
“You are going to borrow Rafe’s shiny new Stetson, and this little darlin’ is going to go under the hatband.” He ignored Rafe’s groan of protest. “Suck it up, big brother, it’s for a good cause. Anyway, this is extremely sensitive, so try not to bump it. We’ll be able to monitor everything said within a dozen feet of you. If they frisk you looking for a wire, take the hat off and hold it out to your side, and they shouldn’t find it. I doubt they are sophisticated enough to have an electronic wand with them, but if they do, this little baby should still pass muster. I ran it by mine, and it didn’t detect the bug.”
“Whatever, do it now, because I’m out of here in two minutes.” Nick was getting antsier by the minute. Every second he was still was another second Cassandra had Gracie.
This ended today. No matter what happened to him, he was going to save Gracie. He had to because he loved her.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Unable to budgethe ropes a single inch, Gracie heaved out a soft sigh. The two cousins had yet to leave the shabby and worn-down motel room, and had barely spoken to each other since the phone call to Nick an hour previous. Jesse had chortled when he’d told Cassandra that Nick was following instructions and had left Shiloh Springs in the dust, headed for Austin.
That had been an hour ago, at least she was figuring it was pretty close to that amount of time from the television. It was nothing but inane chatter, with a local San Antonio news channel doing feel-good stories. Gracie had rarely watched it when she lived here, too busy with school and work and studying.
“Ready for part two?” Jesse pointed to his laptop. “Vincent’s about thirty minutes away. You need to call and give him the rest of the instructions along with directions, and then we need to get out of this dump.”
Cassandra smiled and placed her hands on his shoulders, looking past him at the laptop balanced on the edge of the mattress. She’d been uncharacteristically quiet ever since forcing Gracie to talk with Nick, and she hated that she was leading him into a trap. Because it was.
“Time to go, people. Chop, chop. The faster we hit the road, the faster we can deal with Nick and go home. Just think, Gracie, in a few more hours, you’ll be back at your boring little store, selling overpriced coffee drinks, all safe and sound. Unless Jeremy Brewster gets parole and then—well, then you’re on your own.” A look of pure malevolence crossed Cassandra’s face when she mentioned Jeremy’s name, chilling Gracie to the bone.
“Why are you doing this? I can understand family loyalty, but murder? Nick’s a good man.”
Cassandra pulled a long knife from Jesse’s backpack, the wicked edge gleaming in the lamplight, and Gracie’s throat went dry. She flashed the knife back and forth, watching it catch the light.
“If it was strictly up to me, Nick Vincent could walk away. I couldn’t care less. Unfortunately, Uncle Simon is calling the shots, and in his twisted take on life, Nick is the villain of the story. Got poor misunderstood Uncle Simon sent to prison, but not before there was an unfortunate series of events that led to their tussle and Nick managing to come out on top—as usual. Uncle Simon, on the other hand, ended up in a wheelchair.”
“I’m sorry.”
She shrugged. “Can’t say Uncle didn’t deserve it. He had been breaking the law. Unfortunately, he also controlled all the family’s purse strings, and the government seized all his assets. Lucky for us, Uncle is a right wizard with computers, and he was able to stash a big chunk of money where the government can’t find it. We,” she gestured between herself and her cousin, “will get enough to set us up for life once we take care of things. Step one was helping him escape from prison. And as of an hour ago, that’s done. Step two is finding and eliminating Nick Vincent. I have to admit, he’s been a hard man to take out.”
“Which one of you shot Antonio Boudreau?”
“That would be me.” Jesse walked over to stand behind his cousin, grabbed the knife out of her hand, and disappeared behind her chair. Seconds later, she felt the ropes fall off her wrists. He walked around to face her, and slid the knife through the bonds holding her ankles tied. “I’m an excellent shot. Missing him was a fluke; he moved right as I squeezed the trigger, and I hit the other guy by mistake. Trust me, I won’t miss again.”
“I’m the one who slit his tires. Childish, I know, but it made me feel better.”
Gracie stood and almost went down as pins and needles pain sensation stabbed her hands and feet. She needed to keep them talking, find out why Nick had been the target of their attempts on his life. Maybe figure out a way to keep them from finishing their twisted objective. She didn’t want to imagine a world without him in it.
