Against the Odds Read online

  ‘Did he have any distinguishing marks or features?’

  ‘Yes, officer, he had blisters between his fingers.’

  The world finally went black and spared her his imagined retort.

  * * * *

  Desi watched as the latest private investigator he’d hired sauntered through the warehouse toward his office.

  “I’ll take that finder’s fee in cash, Desman.” Ritchie wiped the sweat off his upper lip.

  Does the asshole really think I earned my reputation by taking shit from weasels like him?

  “You should know by now, I don’t reward big talk with cash. Show me what you’ve got or get the hell out of my office.” Desman leaned back in his chair, waiting to see what evidence the fat fuck had turned up.

  Ritchie ran a finger between his collar and throat before laying a report on Desman’s desk. He was perspiring profusely. The smell of onions and garlic permeated the air between them.

  Desman’s right eye twitched as he read the report. There was just enough information to make Desman sure Ritchie had done the impossible and tracked the bitch down.

  “Don’t fuck with me. Where’s she at? How did you find her?” He didn’t bother to hide his fury.

  “As soon as I have the finder’s fee, you’ll have everything you need.”

  Who the hell does he think he is?

  Desman opened his desk drawer. To the left lay the key to the safe, but Desi kept his hand along the right side. He wrapped his fingers around the pachmayr grip of his Glock 10mm and pulled the trigger.

  Ritchie’s mouth hung open, first probably in shock, then in screaming pain as the bullet and wooden shards from the front panel of Desman’s desk embedded deep in his kneecap.

  Desman slid back his chair and walked over to where Ritchie was writhing on the floor. He towered above Ritchie. “Bluffing doesn’t work with a man holding all the cards,” Desi explained, calmly. “Now, being a reasonable man, I’m going to give you two choices. You can give me all the information you have on this girl and live with a bum leg or you can die right now. Choose,” he ordered.

  Ritchie stared up at him in disbelief. Desman felt a surge of power rush through him.

  Tipping his head to one side, Desman warned Ritchie, “Last chance.”

  “Okay, okay,” he gasped between moans. “I’ll give you everything I have.”

  * * * *

  From down a long, dark tunnel, Sasha heard a woman whimpering and a man shouting. Her head pounded and she knew she was being a horrible person, but she really wished the girl would just shut the hell up. She should get help for the poor woman. No one could be all right and sound so pitiful, but she couldn’t force herself to move.

  Slowly, her vision cleared. The yelling man knelt beside her, running his hands all over her body. She wanted to protest, to strike out at his audacity. Why couldn’t she move? A deep breath later she realized with shock she was the moaning, injured woman.

  “Are you all right?” he asked again.

  “You shot me!” Her voice was a mere whisper yet indignation rang clear. Her eyes locked with his, vowing payback.

  “I shot the snake,” he corrected.

  His short, golden brown hair glistened in the sun, giving him an angelic appearance. A pistol packing angel. Great, now even God wants me dead. “Snake?” she asked, confused. She hadn’t seen a snake.

  “Your horse reared as it struck,” he continued to explain.

  She had to get up. Get away. This man had tried to kill her. Hadn’t he? Could there have been a snake? Had she been so out of it she’d missed it? Possibly. Probably. She had to check the trail. If he was telling the truth, the snake would still be there. Using two fingers, she let out a whistle, calling Dakota back to her.

  It was difficult to draw air into her lungs. She would be black and blue by morning, but at the moment she didn’t feel it. Instead her body thrummed where this stranger with the blistered hands and stunning eyes had touched her. And he’d touched her everywhere.

  “Was he bitten? Is he okay?” She struggled to get up.

  The man grabbed her forearm and held her still. “Stay calm while I call nine-one-one. Your wrist is broken and you may have other injuries.”

  “No!” She tried to scramble away, but his grip was deceptively strong. “I’m fine. I just had the wind knocked out of me.” She waited for his hold to loosen, drawing her legs underneath her.

  When he made no move to let go, she brought her wrist into view. He was telling the truth there. It was definitely broken. Immediately the pain hit, causing her stomach to roll dangerously.

  “You need to go to the hospital. You may have internal injuries.”

  His rich, deep voice soothed her nerves. She had the strangest desire to crawl into his arms and cry a river. Where that came from she didn’t know, but it scared her more than being shot at.

  Dakota nudged the back of her head. With her free arm she reached around and patted his neck. The moment the stranger let go of her arm, to push Dakota away from her, she used her legs to scoot back and stand up. The wave of pain her sudden movement caused nearly sent her crashing back into the dirt. Through sheer force of will, she stayed on her feet.

  Cradling her arm close to her chest, she checked Dakota for wounds. Many people never thought about the animal when a fall took place. Oftentimes, they were hurt far worse than the human. They’d been lucky this time. He was uninjured.

  She immediately scanned the trail, looking for evidence of a snake. She wanted to believe him, and for that reason alone she needed him to be a liar. Emotion overwhelmed her when she saw the bloody remains of a rattlesnake just a few feet away.

  Why couldn’t he have been lying about the snake? It would have made things so much easier.

  “Look, my name’s Jacob. My truck is just over the rise. I’ve got a double trailer. Let me drive you into town and we’ll get you checked out.”

  She shook her head. What bad timing!

  “Thank you, but no. I’ll be fine, really.” With her good hand, she caught the reins and climbed into the saddle. It was second nature to seat her boot into the stirrup and swing her leg over his back. She wasn’t prepared though, for stars to block out the sun as the world spun precariously. One deep breath told her she’d most likely cracked a rib or two as well. Double damn. She stayed very still until her head cleared. “I’ve fallen before. I can handle this,” she assured him once she was sure she could speak again.

  She’d survived much worse, not that anyone would ever know about it. That was one of many secrets she planned to take to the grave.

  “I feel responsible. At the very least, let me help you store your gear. If you’d feel more comfortable, I could drive your rig for you. Once we get you to a hospital, I’ll call a buddy and have him bring me back out here.”

  “No, really, I couldn’t put you out like that. I’m fine. And thank you for saving my horse.” She couldn’t bring herself to thank him for taking a life, even if it was a snake. Violence turned her stomach. It always had.

  * * * *

  Letting her leave was much harder than he’d expected. After following her for days, he knew right where her truck was parked. He waited long enough for her to get back to her rig before he set out after her. He tied Sammy’s horse to a mesquite tree a few hundred yards away. Careful to stay near the ground and virtually out of sight behind the rise, he crept between the scrubby bushes and the cholla cactus as he inched closer.

  From his vantage point, he could see her clearly. Her struggles to store the saddle caused a physical pain in his chest. Before he could examine the why of it, he was out in the open striding toward her. How many mistakes would he make this morning? How many was one too many?

  “Give me that,” he commanded, refusing to be pushed aside. Physically taking the saddle from her, he carefully stored it in the open compartment, ignoring her protests and obvious reluctance to have him anywhere near her equipment. It took only a few moments to lead Dakota i
nto the trailer and prepare the rig for departure.

  “Wait here while I secure my horse. You’re not in any shape to drive yourself out of here.” A slew of other comments were stifled before they actually left his mouth. Apparently the agency’s sensitivity training had taught him something.

  He hadn’t reached the mesquite before he heard the diesel motor fire up and take off down the dirt road. Sid cursed up a dust storm. He hadn’t been with the woman a total of ten minutes and she had him making deadly mistakes. What was he thinking turning his back on a murder suspect?

  Chapter Two

  Looking in the mirror, Sasha could almost ignore the bulky white reminder of her carelessness. The cascade of shimmering fabric from her handmade gown concealed most of her cast. She blinked twice, then again, to keep the sudden burning tears captive for a while longer. Sometimes it was hard to think logically and be proud of what she’d accomplished in her life. Her fashions should have been seen on runways in Paris, London and New York. Emotion was an insidious enemy, always attacking when she was least prepared to deal with it.

  A small shift of her hips swirled the custom, one of a kind dress, sparking a small glimmer of pride. It was snug across the chest thanks to the wrap holding her cracked ribs in place, but not terribly noticeable. All her bruises were covered, except for the new beauty she’d given herself rolling her hair. The cast on her wrist was proving more harmful than leaving it unbound.

  If tonight didn’t mean so much to the horse rescue, she’d ditch the dress, slide into her favorite jeans, saddle Dakota and chase the stars across the night sky.

  It was time to disappear again. She’d already stayed longer than was safe. And she wasn’t sure why. Of course she was tired of running. Tired of starting over. Mostly, she was tired of being alone. She couldn’t even take credit for her interior designs. Sasha was just the latest fictional persona in what was growing to be a long list.

  Sasha dug her teeth into her bottom lip, refusing to wallow any deeper in self-pity. The money raised tonight would keep the shelter functional for a good six months. That was real and worthwhile.

  With her carefully practiced faux smile firmly in place, she pushed open the bathroom door, determined to cajole as much money from these people as she could.

  Sid waited in an alcove near the ladies’ restroom and bided his time until Sasha appeared. He walked passed her as casually as possible. “I’m looking for the banquet hall. Can you point me in the right direction?”

  Recognition flashed across her face. By reflex, it seemed, she touched her wrist at the break. She looked him over carefully, even noting the ugly blisters on his hands. He wished she hadn’t noticed. It bothered him to have his appearance be less than perfect.

  Sid tilted his head and plastered what he hoped was a shocked expression on his face. “How are you feeling?” he asked, quietly. “I’m glad you sought medical care. I was afraid you wouldn’t when you took off.” Sid slipped easily into his undercover persona, Jacob.

  “I’m fine. Thank you for your concern. I’m heading to the banquet hall, if you’d like to follow me. Dinner should be served any minute.” She slipped her injured arm behind her back as if she were ashamed of it. Her other hand touched briefly at her neck before sliding calmly to her side.

  Sid was pretty good at reading people. His job depended on it. He’d bet a full week’s pay that he’d scared her. You afraid of all men, or just me? He stepped back and to the side, offering her his left arm, making it easier for her with the cast.

  “I didn’t know you were affiliated with the rescue,” Jacob ventured, glad to hear his voice remained steady. As her dainty fingers curled around his biceps, his body responded alarmingly. Her touch sent his heart rate spiking and he was suddenly glad his slacks fit a little sloppy. Otherwise everyone in the convention hall would realize he was sporting a hard-on.

  “As a business owner, I try to work with a variety of charities.” Her voice was cool and detached, signaling this event was nothing more to her than a way to attract perspective clients.

  He knew better. Her company did give to various charities, mostly women’s shelters and animal rescues. However, this rescue struck a chord. It was the only public event she consistently attended, though no photos containing her likeness were ever publically released. One more reason he was convinced ‘Sasha’ was in fact Alexa Desman, wanted murderess.

  As they entered the hall, Sasha stepped away from him. “Enjoy your dinner.” Her cold tone brokered no further discussion. She stepped away from him so quickly he got the impression she didn’t want to be seen in public on his arm. He wondered who in the banquet hall had her so concerned. Did she have a romantic interest like she’d told the police? Nothing that he had uncovered pointed in that direction. Could his theory be wrong?

  He allowed her to escape him for the time being. He couldn’t appear overly interested. If he pushed too hard, and his theory was right, she would run again.

  Watching the sway of her hips as she walked away from him caused a stirring he wasn’t comfortable with. She was a suspect. A possible murderess. He couldn’t risk the case by becoming sexually involved, no matter how exquisite she was.

  Sasha had found a place toward the back of the hall that allowed her to keep all entrances and exits within view. She carried herself with the same weary attentiveness as a long-time undercover officer who was used to covering her back and standing alone in life and death situations.

  Sid used the decorative mirrors stationed along the walls to keep an eye on Sasha without seeming to. He had barely found his seat before a man approached her. He was in his early thirties, six foot or so and well built. When the man turned slightly, Sid recognized him. He was a popular defense attorney known for representing sports heroes who drove too fast, drank too much or had too short a fuse. Sid was too far away to hear the conversation, but Sasha was on guard. Her stance was a fighter’s pose. Feet apart, muscles loose, eyes watching not only the man she was speaking with, but everyone around her too. Her smile rarely faltered, yet she had an aloof quality that kept her apart from everyone else.

  After a few minutes, the attorney moved on. Within thirty or forty seconds, another man approached Sasha. This time it was a local news anchor with a less than stellar reputation. Sid was tempted to intervene, but couldn’t think of a single reason why it would help his case. Instead he sat and watched as a virtual parade of men talked with Sasha. Every male in the place seemed to want a piece of her time. She greeted each one with a beaming smile that Sid was growing to hate.

  He had noticed a few things though. On average, Sasha shook her head ‘no’ three times with each man. She had also avoided tasting any drinks the men offered her.

  In desperation, Sid had changed places at the table. He squinted and watched closely, attempting to read her lips. He was pretty sure she’d said, “Not tonight, I have plans,” to several different men.

  Once the auction started, he split his attention between the stage and Sasha. To make his appearance seem less contrived, he knew he needed to bid on several items. The first that caught his eye was a sculpture donated by Sasha’s Designs. It was modernistic and made from ultra-thin sheets of various alloys. It stood approximately two feet tall and a foot wide. The intertwined circular pieces of copper, brass and zinc were stunning. It reminded him of a desert sunset.

  Although he’d love to own such a beautiful piece of art, he knew it would go far beyond his budget. The five hundred he’d laid out for the dinner already had him outside his comfort zone. The challenge he faced was how to bid convincingly without actually winning. He enjoyed watching the facial expressions of the other bidders and bailing before he got stuck. The artisans had donated some amazing pieces and Sasha’s stood out beyond them all. One thing was certain, she was a very talented artist.

  The evening was coming to a close. Only a handful of items remained on the auction block and he hadn’t furthered his cause. Their brief encounter outside the restrooms was,
so far, their only conversation. As the men continued to gravitate to Sasha’s side, tension swirled in his gut. He was finding it harder and harder not to drag her to a secluded spot and spank that flirty, fake smile right off her face.

  One of the auction house employees, a perky blonde with double-D qualifications partially blocked his view while stud number five hundred thirty-seven approached Sasha to make yet another plea. Somehow this one managed to corner her, literally. She was sandwiched with his arm beside her head, boxing her in between a marbleized column and the sponge-painted wall. Sid was well acquainted with this fellow. He was a baseball pitcher with two recent DUIs and a rap sheet for domestic abuse.

  While Sid took a moment to decide if stepping in would help or hurt his case, Sasha’s pleading eyes met his. Without further thought, he went to her aid. “Misasha,” his voice intimate and familiar, “it’s been a long evening. Are you ready to leave?” He gripped her hand tightly and began leading her away.

  “Who the hell are you?” the pitcher asked with a slight slur to his speech.

  “Nobody you want to take on, ball boy,” Jacob responded in complete confidence.

  Thanking God the Cy Young Award-winning pitcher was drunk and his coordination slowed, Sid deflected the punch that would have cost him several teeth had he mustered his famed ballfield strength. Before the altercation could go any further, a couple of his teammates shouldered the pitcher away.

  “It seems I’m in your debt again. Thank you,” Sasha whispered in a sultry voice.

  He waved off her thanks. “Did you have a good evening?”

  “My designs brought in thousands of dollars for the charity.” She flashed him that fake as hell smile. “I consider it a success.”

  Sid rubbed his neck, trying to ease the tension pulsing through his system. Three people were dead because of this woman. He couldn’t blow it now. “You didn’t eat this evening. Would you like to grab a bite?”