“Kerra Bailey has gone missing.”
Thomas just stared at him, unable to contain his bafflement. “She ran off?”
“She’s presumed kidnapped.”
“What? As of when?”
“Couple of hours ago. And it gets worse,” Jenks continued in a way that was almost snarky. “The person who took her? John Trapper.”
Jesus Christ. On the inside, Thomas deflated. “The proverbial bad penny.”
“Ain’t he just?” Jenks said. “How come you haven’t taken him out of circulation?” He raised his index finger and tapped it against his temple. “Bet I can guess. I figure it’s because you don’t know what all Trapper’s got on you or where it’s stashed.”
Although his thoughts were in turmoil, Thomas resumed his usual stone face. “Is that what you figure?”
Jenks grinned. “Am I warm?”
He was precisely right, but Thomas wouldn’t credit it. “Doesn’t it stand to reason that if Trapper had anything incriminating, I would be in prison already?”
“Just because the feds didn’t run with it doesn’t mean it isn’t there. With The Major being shot and all—”
“Perhaps you shouldn’t have shot him.”
“I didn’t. Petey did.”
“Same difference.”
“Not hardly. Anyway, as I was saying, whatever it is Trapper’s got on you, he may take it out, dust it off, try again, and this time get somebody to give a listen. Think how bad things would get if Trapper has more goods on you than you’re aware of.”
“He doesn’t.”
“You hope.”
Thomas frowned with annoyance. “No one takes him seriously.”
“Kerra Bailey might.”
“She won’t. All Trapper has are his wild speculations.”
“And pretty blue eyes.”
“Ms. Bailey is ambitious. She’s smart. She won’t risk her career breaking a story, especially one of this magnitude, on a pair of blue eyes. She would insist on seeing proof. None exists.”
“All that noise Trapper made three years ago—”
“He was spinning his wheels, and got nowhere.”
Jenks settled back on his heels. “That’s what I came to hear, and I’m glad of it. Otherwise, things might’ve got…messy.”
“Haven’t we had enough messiness this week?”
Jenks ignored that. “So, you don’t see Trapper as a serious threat.”
“Not at all. You can comfortably convey that message.”
“I wouldn’t say comfortably.”
“What would you say?”
“I’d say it’s Trapper we’re talking about. At the very least, he stirs things up and makes people nervous.”
“I’m not in the least bit nervous. Nor should anyone else be, or they risk doing something foolish.” Thomas stood and motioned toward the door. “You can convey that message, too.”
Chapter 16
Trapper growled into his phone, “I’m going to kill you, Carson.” He clicked off and immediately punched in a number on his speed dial. With his free hand, he turned on the truck engine.
“Did he say stolen?” Kerra asked.
“That’s what he said.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Turn myself in.” As he said that, a voice barked his name through the phone loud enough for Kerra to hear.
“Listen, Glenn,” Trapper said, interrupting the sheriff’s tirade. “Call off your hounds. Swear to God I didn’t know about this souped-up truck.”
“Souped-up truck? What souped-up truck?”
“Oh. Never mind.”
“I’m calling about Kerra. Is she with you?”
“You’re breaking up, Glenn. Say again? Shit! Are you still there? I can’t hear you.” Although he could, because Kerra could. The sheriff was shouting epithets and demanding that Trapper explain himself.
Trapper let him rant while he switched back and forth between drive and reverse, trying to gain enough purchase to get the SUV out of the ditch and up onto the roadway. Finally the vehicle gave a lurch up the incline and skidded onto the icy pavement. Trapper spun the wheel sharply to the right, heading them in the direction they’d been going before they’d spun out of control.
Trapper shouted into his phone, “Glenn? Glenn? Can you hear me? Damn!” Then to Kerra’s astonishment, he lowered the driver’s window and pitched the phone overhand out into the blizzard. As he raised the window, he accelerated. The SUV fishtailed, but he brought it under control, and they sped forward into utter darkness.
Clumsily, Kerra fastened her seat belt. “You forgot to turn on the headlights.”
“No I didn’t.”
“Can you see where you’re going?”
“No, but neither can they.”
She turned to look out the rear window. Lights flashed in tri-color blurs through the mist and precipitation, but Trapper was rapidly increasing the distance between them and their pursuers.
She said, “Do you mind explaining why you’re doing this?”
“Remember when I told you that you could get lost out here if you knew where you were going?”
“Yes.”
“I’m testing that theory. Glenn’s department will have been tracking my phone. The guys after us will find it in a minute or two, get out to investigate, and by the time they remove their thumbs from up their asses, we’ll be several miles away. Hard to find us in this,” he said with a gesture toward the weather.
“Tire tracks.”
“They’re a worry, but I don’t have a choice.”
“The choice is to stop. Go back.”
“Not a good choice.”
“You’re fleeing the police, Trapper. In a stolen truck.”
“I didn’t steal it.”
“But it’s stolen property.”
“I doubt they’ll quibble over that.”
“In light of kidnapping, probably not.”
“I didn’t kidnap you.”
“What would you call it?”
“We’re adults. We left together. Simple as that.”
The truck swerved when he made a left turn. She grabbed the handhold above the window. “It’s not at all simple, Trapper.”
“It’s believable. We were only one door-knock away from getting nekkid, and Glenn knows it. He thinks my intentions are impure. His son, Hank, told me he’s worried because any involvement with me would be the worst thing that could happen to you.”
“I tend to agree.”
“Only because you haven’t been nekkid with me yet.”
“Trapper, this is serious.”
He dropped his crocodile grin. “I know.”
Taking his foot off the accelerator, he slowed down gradually until the vehicle rolled to a stop. He pushed the gear into park and turned to her. “Say the word and I’ll take you back to town. No argument. You can tell them the tension of the past couple days caught up with us and we needed a breath of fresh air, or that we were so relieved over The Major’s improvement, we went for a joyride. Tell them I dragged you off by the hair, but you talked me out of ravishing you. Whatever you tell them, I’ll back you up. Carson will confirm that I didn’t know I was driving a stolen vehicle.”
She thought it over and asked, “Then what?”
He raised his shoulder in a semi-shrug. “The dust settles, you do your scheduled interview tomorrow evening. You wait and see what happens.”
“I don’t believe anyone is going to make an attempt on my life while I’m on live national television.”
“Me either. But what about next week? Two weeks from now? A month? Are you willing to live with that ongoing threat?”