The tallest man turned to look at them as they approached.
“What’s going on?” Bull asked. It might’ve seemed like a dumb question, because it was more than obvious a giant rescue operation was going on, but none of the other men blinked at the question.
“We were lucky enough to avoid being involved in this clusterfuck by about fifteen seconds,” the tall man said. “We were in a van and headed back downtown when the pileup happened right in front of us. We helped as many people as we could before the authorities showed up, but they asked us to stage here. I understand them not wanting civilians wandering around, but it’s damn frustrating not to be helping.”
“I’m Bull,” Bull said, holding out his hand.
“Talon,” the tall man replied. “These are my friends Ethan, Cohen, Zeke, Raiden, Drew, and Brock. We’re from Fallport, Virginia, a little town in the foothills of the Appalachians. Visiting Indy for an SAR conference.”
“Search and Rescue?” Smoke asked.
“Yeah. Took a day off to do some sightseeing, but can’t see much of the famous Indianapolis Motor Speedway with this fog. We were on our way back to the hotel when this happened.”
“You were lucky,” Gramps said.
“We know,” Talon said with a nod.
“I see an officer I know,” Gramps said. “I’m going to go talk to him. Let him know we’re here and see if we can help in any way.”
“Please include us in that offer,” Talon requested, and his friends all added their agreement.
“Will do,” Gramps said, then headed for the police officer. The last thing he wanted was to stand around when they could be assisting in some way. Even if that was only to hold blankets for the victims who were being helped out of their cars. He hadn’t seen a pileup this bad in a very long time, if ever. He understood the need to keep everyone safe, but when there were eleven qualified men willing and able to help, the authorities should accept their offers.
Cassidy had gotten a short text from Leo ten minutes ago telling her they’d arrived safely and that they were waiting to be told how they could help until the scene was ready for the towing of vehicles to start. She’d been relieved to hear that he was all right, and not surprised that he and his friends wanted to jump in and lend a hand. As Skylar had said, it wasn’t in their DNA to sit around and do nothing.
Skylar had just hit play on a fantasy drama on the television, something Cassidy didn’t have much interest in watching, when her phone rang. Looking down, Cassidy saw the number said Unknown.
She was tempted to ignore it, as it was probably a telemarketer, but if for some reason Leo had borrowed someone else’s phone to call her, she didn’t want to miss it.
“Hello?”
“Cass?”
The voice was weak and trembling, but Cassidy recognized it immediately. “Mom?”
“Yeah, it’s me.”
Cassidy stood up and headed for the other side of the room. Her mom sounded awful. Her voice was raspy, and Cassidy wondered if she’d been crying. A pit of dread formed in her belly. “What’s wrong?” she asked quietly, not wanting to alarm her friends.
“Have you heard from anyone back in El Paso yet?”
“About what?” Cassidy asked in confusion.
“I . . . I’m not sure how to tell you this . . .”
When she didn’t continue, Cassidy suddenly got a really bad feeling. “What, Mom? Just tell me whatever’s wrong.”
“It’s Alfred. He was murdered a few days ago.”
Cassidy blinked. “Holy cow! What happened?”
“I’m not exactly sure. Carmela Sanchez called me. She’s our neighbor, you know, the one who’s looking after the house for us. Anyway, she heard from a friend of a friend that someone broke into his house. He was stabbed, Cass. Since we’re down here in Mexico, we didn’t hear about it until Carmela called us.”
Cassidy wasn’t sure what to think. Alfred definitely wasn’t one of her favorite people, but still . . . being stabbed while you thought you were safe in your own home . . .
Then she thought about Mario. Alfred was his father. Yes, they were estranged, but she’d still had hopes that one day he might come to his senses and want some sort of relationship with his son.
“Have the police caught who did it?” she asked.
When her mom didn’t immediately respond, and instead began to cry, Cassidy tensed further. “Mom?”
She heard some rustling, then her dad’s voice came over the line. “Hey, Cass.”
“What’s going on, Dad?”
“It looks like you and Leo were right about us going to Mexico,” he said quietly. “Carmela said when she came over to water the plants, the kitchen window was open . . . and the back door was unlocked.”
“Oh my God,” Cassidy whispered.
“She also said the news reported there were some tips that two men were asking questions in Alfred’s neighborhood about which house was his. They claimed to be from a lawn service. Cass . . . they had Jamaican accents.”
Cassidy’s blood froze in her veins.
“You aren’t safe,” her dad said urgently.
“They were looking for me,” Cassidy whispered.
“We think so,” he agreed. “And you told Alfred where you and Mario were, didn’t you?”
“I had to, you know that. When did this happen, again?” Cassidy asked, her eyes darting around the room, as if Lloyd Robinson—she was certain it was him—and whoever had accompanied him were about to jump out from behind a couch or something.
“Two days ago.”
Her dad’s answer made Cassidy’s adrenaline spike. Two days? That was plenty of time for them to get to Indiana. She wasn’t safe. Mario wasn’t safe.
Just then, Taylor laughed at something on the television, and Cassidy’s eyes went to her. She was cradling Kevin in her arms, smiling. Molly was grinning as well, and Cassidy glanced down to her belly. To the baby she was carrying. Skylar shushed her friends and kept her intent gaze on the screen.
If Lloyd—and likely Martin—knew where she was, they might already be here. Who knew what they had done to Alfred to get him to talk. While he hadn’t known her address, she’d told him about a friend who was helping them out . . . a friend who owned Silverstone Towing.
If Lloyd was willing to kill Alfred to find her, everyone around her was in danger. Michael’s lieutenants wouldn’t hesitate to hurt or kill anyone who got between them and their target.
Cassidy might’ve thought she’d left Jamaica behind, but she’d been kidding herself. She’d never escape . . . just like Michael had told her.
Once embroiled in the drug world, it was impossible to leave.
“Run, baby,” Cassidy’s dad whispered in her ear. “Don’t let them find you!”
“I’m so sorry—” Cassidy began.
“Your mother and I love you,” her dad said. “Now go!”
“Stay safe, Dad.”
“We will. Take care of Mario. Tell him how much his grandparents love him.”
“I will,” Cassidy whispered. “Bye.” She clicked off the phone.