“You sure you’re okay?”
“Everything’s fine.” Or at least it would be once he caught that little escape artist who had managed to make him look like a rookie and a dumb ass with one shot. “I’d do it myself but this disposable isn’t internet capable and I don’t have time to locate a computer.”
“This sounds personal,” Owen murmured, and Tommy didn’t waste time denying it even if it wasn’t exactly true. But Owen didn’t press for details, either, which was another reason Tommy picked him instead of Christian, who lived in Manhattan and was always interested in getting the dirt. “All right. Sent. Anything else?”
“No,” he answered, a short satisfied smile following as the cell dinged with an arriving text message. “That’ll do it. Thanks, man. I’ll explain later.”
“Can’t wait,” Owen returned dryly but then added, “Be safe.”
“Always.”
The line went dead and Thomas tossed the cell on the seat beside him. Both his brothers were solid guys in different ways. They didn’t share a drop of blood but Tommy knew Owen and Christian would have his back just as he would always have theirs. That’s how Mama Jo had raised them. He missed spending time with them, but the past few months had been consumed with tracking down Cassi, leaving little time to socialize and catch up. Besides, he wasn’t the only one whose personal life was submarined by the job. Christian was a bartender at some swanky place, pulling down more money a year than he was, while Owen had his hands full over in the wilds of the Santa Cruz Mountains in California trying to keep his logging company alive in an economy that had determined logging was something of a dirty word.
They’d scattered but it was rare that they didn’t connect a few times a month. And he was feeling the separation. He made a mental promise to pop in and at least say hello to Mama Jo after he dragged Cassi back to West Virginia.
He missed Mama Jo’s cooking.
And right about now he was thinking he needed one of her signature finger thumps on the back of his skull for being such a class-A idiot.
CASSI DUMPED THE CAR IN A relatively safe place so it wouldn’t get stripped overnight and then hopped a cab back to her apartment. She didn’t stroll through the front door but used the fire escape like before, only this time she did a thorough search of the place before she let her guard down. When she was certain Tommy wasn’t hiding behind a shower curtain or closet door, she gathered her essentials, including the stuffed date book and the prepaid bus ticket to Jersey and then with one last look around the small place she’d called home for such a brief time, she disappeared out the window.
With the familiar weight of her backpack against her shoulder blades and the ticket in her hand, her thoughts returned to her situation. She hadn’t exactly finished her business in New York when Tommy busted in on her but with the authorities closing in, she didn’t have a choice but to lie low for a while. She figured Jersey was a good pick since she could disappear fairly easily into Newark, due to its size. She tended to steer clear of small towns as anonymity was something she prized, and it was damn near impossible to get when everyone wanted to know your business.
She checked the time for the next bus. She had about a half hour to kill. Lucky. It could’ve been worse. Her stomach growled. Repositioning her pack, she went to the vending machine to check out what kind of toxic waste cleverly packaged as food was available. Hmm, the choices were slim. She settled for a candy bar, figuring the sugar kick might bolster her flagging energy if not help keep her focused.
For some reason she couldn’t shake the sense of guilt that shadowed her every movement. Damn Tommy. Why’d he have to be the one to come after her? If it’d been anyone else she could’ve left without a second glance or even a smidge of concern weighing her down.
She huffed a short breath and took a bite of the candy.
THOMAS SPOTTED HER STANDING in the bus station foyer, chewing slowly, her brow furrowing ever so slightly as if she were wrestling with something. She crumpled the wrapper and threw it in the trash can with a little more force than was required and the expression of consternation was replaced with resolve.
Whatever had her bothered was gone. Thomas pulled his cuffs. Time to make his move.
He moved quietly but with purpose, his eye on the target. He kept to her peripheral vision but bad luck must’ve been riding on his shoulder for she turned and they locked eyes. Panic registered in hers and she bolted.
Her long legs ate up the dirty tile, putting more distance between them, pushing past the other people waiting for the incoming charter. Desperation gave her the edge. His heart hammered with the exertion but he wasn’t about to give up. He’d chase her off a cliff if need be, but she wasn’t getting away this time.
“Freeze,” he bellowed, causing a number of people to stop and stare, but she kept going. He didn’t think it would work but it’d been worth a try. He put all his energy into narrowing the gap between them and he closed in on her. She was nearly within his grasp but she dodged just as he made a grab for her. If he could’ve managed it, he would’ve shouted a few choice curse words but, as it was, his lungs were burning, screaming from the stale station air.
She burst outside and darted left to slip past a slightly open gate that led to the maintenance yard and slammed it shut, locking it behind her seconds before he could get to it. He slammed into the gate hard and shook it with both fists when he realized she was beyond his reach.
“Cassi, don’t,” he warned, his chest heaving as his fingers curled around the cold, rough-textured metal. She stopped and turned. Her breath curled in a teasing cloud before evaporating into the night. She held his stare and he could almost sense her hesitation even though she seemed poised to run. He grabbed on to that hope, distant and fleeting as it may be. “I don’t want you to get hurt. If you keep running, it’ll only get worse. You’ll become hunted by every single law enforcement agency in the United States. There will be nowhere to hide and if you continue to run…they will use lethal force to bring you down.”
“I’m not a criminal,” she whispered. “I’m just trying to get to the truth.”
“What truth?”
“I told you.”
He ignored that. Everyone had a story or a reason for doing what they did but it didn’t lessen the crime. “What about the people you took advantage of? The people who took you in and bought whatever fairy tale you put together so that you could drain their savings and split town?”
She sucked in a breath. “I never drained anyone’s savings. Who told you that?”
The fact that she sounded outraged and hurt he found baffling. “Do you even know the charges leveled against you?” he asked.
“No, but I can’t believe they’re serious enough to sic the FBI on me.”
He ticked off the charges. “Grand theft, fraud, identity theft…fiduciary elder abuse… Cassi, these are pretty hefty charges. You won’t be able to run forever. You will be caught.”
“What are you talking about? I never did any of those things. I admit, I borrowed some money from a few people but nothing that would be missed or would devastate their finances. And I told you that I planned to pay them back.”
“Borrow?”
“Yes.”
“Borrowing implies consent and your victims weren’t given the choice. You took without asking.”
“I will pay them back,” she maintained stubbornly.
“It doesn’t matter. There’s a warrant for your arrest. You’re going to be brought to justice sooner or later. Make it easy on yourself and stop running.”
“So you believe I did these things?” she asked, her stance rigid, her stare boring into his, almost daring him to answer. “Grand theft? Elder abuse? Do you really think I could do these things? Me?”
He shook his head, his heart heavy in his chest. “It’s not about what I think you’re capable of…it’s what you’ve done. I have to bring you in.”
“What if you’re wrong? What if all those charges were false? What if someone was trying to keep me out of the picture and painting me as a criminal was the best way to get rid of me? What if the real criminal was the one giving you the bad information?”
“What about Barbara Hanks? Winifred Jones? Or Isaac Wilmes? What would they have to say about your claims of innocence?” At the mention of her fraud victims, she didn’t pale as he’d expected her. Her confused look threw him off for a moment but he shelved it. “You played yourself false to those kindhearted people and you took all they had to fund your little East Coast excursion. Barbara and Winifred were old ladies and that’s bad enough but the worst one, I think, was Isaac. You played him like a fiddle and left him not only broke but broken-hearted.”
Something flitted across her face—guilt perhaps—but then she lifted her chin and responded with a quiet but unapologetic, “I told him I wasn’t the marrying type. I never lied to him.”
“Except the part where you lied about who you were, your past and the future you had no intention of sharing with him.”
Her mouth tightened as her eyes narrowed. “I don’t have to explain myself to you. My reasons were my own. Isaac has nothing to do with anything. Leaving someone isn’t against the law.”
“No, but representing yourself as someone you’re not and getting someone to propose to you under false pretenses is called fraud.”
“That’s ridiculous. If that were the case every single person who’s used their natural assets, be it a pretty face, big breasts, or money to get what they want would be guilty of fraud. And that’s not what happened with Isaac, not that it’s your business,” she snapped. “I had feelings for him. Just not those kinds of feelings.”
“You liked him enough to accept the four-carat diamond he put on your finger,” he reminded her softly. “A diamond I suspect you sold the minute you left.”
“It must be nice to be able to judge from that high horse of yours,” she said. Then her mouth pinched in scorn as she added, “And for your information I sent that monstrosity back to him. I didn’t want it in the first place but I hadn’t wanted to humiliate him in front of his family and friends.”
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