Dead Running Read online

  I caught my first full breath in minutes. “It worked.”

  Dad looked at me. “You’re beautiful, Cassie.”

  I pushed buttons on Dad’s phone. “Odd comment for a life or death situation.”

  Dad grinned. “True. I just can’t believe how pretty you are. How much you look like . . .” He shook his head. Suddenly unable to meet my gaze, Dad dropped the vehicle into reverse, punched the gas pedal, and spun around. We raced out onto the road and back down the canyon.

  I kept watch behind us, an easier task than responding to Dad’s last comment. He slowed down, giving Muscle Man a chance to catch us. My heart withered at the thought. Within minutes, the van reappeared. “Here they come,” I screamed, clinging to the armrest with sweaty fingers.

  Dad smiled. “Perfect. If the police did what you asked, this could be our break.”

  We came to the spot where Canyon Road split into Upper and Lower. Several police cars barricaded the road. Dad slowed to a stop. I watched behind us for the van to appear around the next corner. Several seconds passed. “They were closing in on us,” I muttered.

  I jumped from the car.

  “Cassidy,” Dad yelled, climbing out his side.

  Detective Shine and Fine strode to meet us.

  “They must’ve turned around,” I called in way of greeting. “They should be here by now.”

  Shine nodded. “We’ll leave a car here and go find them.” Fine was already running to their patrol car.

  Dad and I waited a few minutes before trudging back to the Tahoe. Silence surrounded us as we sank into the captain chairs and studied the road. I prayed for Muscle Man’s capture. “Where do you think they went?”

  Dad shrugged. “Don’t worry. We’ll get them.” He reached across the console and took my hand in his. “I’ll make sure you’re safe.”

  “I think you’re the one who isn’t safe. Why do they want you so bad?”

  Anger filled his eyes. “Human trafficking is a billion dollar industry.” He grinned, though I could still feel his disgust. “I cut into their profits.”

  I wanted to ask how he did that, but he went on, “Plus, Ramirez and Panetti both hate me.” He shrugged. “Especially Panetti. You remember.”

  I shivered, wishing I didn’t.

  Dad stared at me. “Your mother was so proud of you. She bragged to everyone about her brilliant exercise scientist who was helping the world be healthier.” He cleared his throat. “Are you still running your corporate fitness company? That was such a great concept.”

  I shifted on the leather seat and studied the empty road. When would Shine and Fine reappear, gloating that they’d caught Muscle Man? “Um, no. When the recession hit, the companies had to cut somewhere.” I fiddled with my watch, flushing red. “Guess I was a dispensable product.”

  “Nana didn’t tell me.” Dad rubbed my arm. “That wasn’t your fault.”

  Maybe not, but it sure made me feel like a failure. “But I’m starting a new personal training business for small groups. I’ve got a great gym who is already signing up clients, we start in October. They were nice to let me focus on the marathon first.”

  “That’s great. You never were a quitter. You’re so much like your mombeautiful and inspiring.” He smiled softly. “I wish she could see you now.”

  The words warmed me, but would my mom be proud of me? My new venture would be fun and help women get into shape, but she’d given her life protecting children. I needed to do more that she and I could be proud of.

  Dad patted my head like he could read my mind. “There’s so much more to you than your outward beauty.”

  “Thanks, Dad.” I stared out the car window, hoping he was right. At that moment, Shine and Fine’s patrol car reappeared. I jumped out of the Tahoe and rushed to meet them.

  Shine shook his head at me. “The van’s deserted up a narrow dirt road a couple miles back. No sign of the men.”

  I grabbed his arm. “You’ve got to find them.”

  He nodded. “Johnson and Rodriguez are searching the surrounding area on foot. We’re bringing in more reinforcements. They couldn’t just disappear.”

  I shivered. Dad wrapped his arm around me. Muscle Man had disappeared. When would he reappear?

  Weeks Twelve and Thirteen

  After several days of silence, Damon started calling repeatedly. I got pretty good at making up excuses or avoiding him. I still heard nothing from Jesse. Nothing! I could almost talk myself into truly disliking him, but my lips singed from his touch and I could still see the warmth in his eyes as he said he'd protect me.

  My dad made me promise to train inside until they knew where Muscle Man and Greasy Beanpole were and he was certain I was safe. The little bit of time I’d been able to spend with my dad was so wonderful, I didn’t put up much of a fight.

  On Saturday, I was scheduled to for my third twenty miler. I’d run my last twenty miles on the treadmill and I really couldn’t take anymore. I think I would’ve preferred fleeing from Muscle Man. When my dad called, I thought it was worth asking, “Please, can you have somebody follow me so I can run outside?”

  “Sick of the treadmill?”

  “More than you know.”

  “I just want to guarantee you’re safe.”

  “But Muscle Man hasn’t shown up for two weeks. He probably got fired or gave up.”

  “These men have been tracking me for years, sweetheart. You really think they’re going to give up after one run-in with the police?”

  It wasn’t even a run-in. Muscle Man and Greasy Beanpole had evaded the police and our trap up the canyon. They could be anywhere. “Please, I can’t hack the treadmill anymore. I’m getting injuries, and I won’t be prepared for the marathon. Inside running is different than outside.”

  He paused for half a second. “I don’t know, babe.”

  Ooh, I had him now. I’d achieved a pause. “I know it’s asking a lot,” I said, “but I really am about to lose my mind. Don’t you trust my judgment?” It was a subterranean blow, but I had to take it. He was inches from where I wanted him.

  “Cassie,” Dad exhaled.

  I waited. My arguments had been made, it was crucial not to push too hard.

  The seconds crawled by. Finally, he muttered, “Okay, okay. I’ll ask a couple of the FBI agents to follow you. What time?”

  “Yes.” I did a little dance in the living room. “Woo-hoo. Woo-hoo.”

  “Stop celebrating and tell me a time.”

  “Let a girl party for a second.”

  “Cassidy, this is not a party. Your life is on the line here.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Naw. It’s you they want dead. They just like to threaten me to get to you.” The second my flippant words were out, I regretted them. “Sorry, Dad. You know I’m thrilled you’re still alive and I want to keep you that way.”

  “You make a man wonder,” he said. “By the way, who was the boy that finished your run with you a few weeks ago? The one your Nana says you won’t talk to anymore.”

  “Like you haven’t already checked him out?”

  “I’d like to hear it from you.”

  “Past history, Pops.” I gritted my teeth. Here I was recovering from Damon and my long-misplaced father had to remind me.

  “You sure? Nana seems to think you were pretty smitten by him.”

  “Smitten? Really, Dad. Smitten? When you can talk with my generation give me a call. I’ll be ready at five-thirty in the morning.”

  “Five-thirty? Good heavens, Cassidy.”

  “Thanks, Dad. Love ya. Gotta go carb up and get my rest so your FBI buddies won’t get too bored following me.” I hung up the phone before he could change his mind and went to the kitchen to scrounge up some carbs. It was annoying that my dad thought he needed to pry about Damon, but honestly really nice that he was around to care.

  * * *

  A white Toyota Avalon waited outside my front door at promptly five-thirty. I waved and jogged to the car. Dad rolled down the wi
ndow. “You sure we have to do this, Cassie?”

  I frowned. “You shouldn’t be out here.”

  He shook his head, his blond hair needed a trim. “It’ll be fine. I wanted the chance to see you, even if it meant getting up before the sun.” He sighed. “If I can stay awake.”

  It felt like a blanket straight out of the dryer had been wrapped around my shoulders. My dad was giving up sleep just to watch me run. “Like it’s going to be so hard on you. You get to sit in a car and watch me kick my own butt.”

  He smiled. “You always have such a nice way of putting things.”

  I handed him a mug and his face split into the grin I’d missed so much these past two years. “Your famous hot cocoa?”

  “I figured I’d butter up whoever was helping me out this morning.” I shifted from one foot to the other. “Thanks for doing this for me, Dad.”

  “Anything for you.” He took a tentative sip. “Ah. Just like I like it. Dark chocolate with a hint of cinnamon. I’ve missed you, sweetie.”

  “At least you knew I was alive.” The words came out before I could retract them. “I mean, I missed you more because I thought you were dead.”

  His skin faded as if somebody had poured bleach on him, but he ignored the words I already regretted and started lecturing, “If anything looks suspicious, you’re going to have to get in. You don’t pause. You jump in the car. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Dad. Jump. No questions.” I tried to sound sweet so both of us could forget about my previous words. “Follow me.”

  I headed west, through the fields and dairy farms. I remembered to eat often. The only downside of the run was the smell of manure and the guilt of knowing my dad was idling slowly behind me. I should’ve made him his favorite oatmeal chocolate chip cookies to go with the cocoa.

  Even though I acted like I felt safe, I kept searching the road in front and behind for a van. Thankfully, the only vehicles we saw were tractors and an occasional Idaho truckbig wheels, fancy rims, and stinky diesel. A few groups of bikers passed us, but no Muscle Man or Greasy Beanpole.

  I was headed back south from Trenton when I heard two bikers talking behind me. It always cracked me up that bikers didn’t realize how their voices carried.

  “Isn’t she the one?”

  My back stiffened. My ears opened wider.

  “Yes, it’s definitely her.”

  They were almost upon me. I flipped around to face them head on and beckoned to my dad. He was fifty feet behind them. The bikers were in front of him and approaching fast with huge grins aimed my direction.

  “Hello there,” the one started.

  The howl of the Avalon’s wheels cut off whatever the guy was trying to say. My dad squealed around the two men, jamming his car between their bikes and me. He flung open the passenger door and screamed, “Get in.”

  The men swerved, barely missing the car. They continued down the road. The first speaker turned and stared at us like we were insane. “I’ve heard of over-protective fathers, but sheesh.”

  The other one chuckled. Within seconds they were gone.

  I squatted next to the open door, breathing heavily. “Sorry. They were talking about me. I remembered that you said other men might be assigned to come after us . . . Sorry.” I was such a freak-out.

  My dad wiped a hand over his face. “Don’t worry.” He forced a smile. “It woke me up.”

  “Me too.”

  “Do you want to get in?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “Nah. I’ve still got about six miles to go.”

  He shooed me with his hand. “I’ll stay closer.”

  I nodded my thanks and started running again. My adrenaline pumped from the scare. I wondered if there would ever come a day that I’d react normally.

  As we pulled back into Smithfield’s city limits, Dad idled alongside me. “You have such a great stride, Cassie. I can’t believe how fast you ran that twenty miles.”

  I grinned, wiping at the sweat on my forehead. “Thanks, Dad. You should’ve seen how pathetic I was a few months ago.”

  “You’re anything but pathetic now.”

  I slowed to a walk for the last couple of blocks. It was almost more painful to walk then run at this point. We finally reached the house.

  “Dad, do you think Muscle Man gave up?” I asked through his car window.

  Dad’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel. He gestured. “Can you sit with me a minute?”

  I needed to stretch my legs but an opportunity to talk with my dad wasn’t something I wanted to miss. I climbed into the car, wincing as I sat down.

  “I’m afraid they’ll never give up. They know where I am now. They know the FBI and police are watching for them. They may just be giving us a few weeks reprieve before they hit.” He shook his head. “It’s something Ramirez loves to do. Toy with his victims before he barbecues them.”

  “Barbecues them?” I shuddered. The sweat on my back cooled to freezing.

  Dad exhaled slowly. “It’s just an expression he likes to use.”

  “This Ramirez guy is the slave trader?”

  “Yes.”

  “He’s in Mexico?”

  “We believe he’s based in Acapulco, but he imports slaves throughout South America. Mexico is where they transfer and distribute.” Bitterness was so strong in my dad’s voice and face I almost didn’t recognize him.

  I swallowed, brushing at the sweat on my forehead. “He just steals children and sells them?”

  “Sometimes. Or they trick the children into going with them. There’s a huge profit to be made in the sex industry in Mexico through the Internet and the vacation towns. The children who aren’t as desirable get sold for labor. They also smuggle them into America.”

  “What?” My stomach soured and not from all the Gu’s I’d eaten. “They seriously smuggle them into America?”

  “Beautiful Hispanic girls do well in New Orleans’ brothels,” his scowl lines deepened, “and everywhere else for that matter.”

  I rubbed my arms for warmth. “And you’ve been able to stop them from being taken?”

  Dad focused on the dashboard. “Prevention is nearly impossible, especially the victims imported from South America. We concentrate on retrieval.” Dad smiled to himself. “We have sources that tell us when a shipment has been made or a village has been hit. We find the traffickers before they get too far. Sham and I work well together.”

  “How do you free the slaves?”

  He shrugged. “Depends on the situation, sometimes we’re able to free them without bloodshed, sometimes not.”

  “B-but?” My heart thudded against my chest. “You kill the slavers?”

  “Sometimes. They deserve a lot worse. If you knew the things they do . . . If we don’t take care of them.” He shook his head. “The government’s corrupt. We used to turn the slavers over to them, but they’d release them within weeks. Sham and I stopped using the legal system years ago.” He smiled again. “But we’re a great addition to the anti-trafficking programs we work with, they just don’t ask anymore how we retrieve the victims.”

  He didn’t expound and honestly, I didn’t want to ask. Slavery? Killing? I was so naïve. I thought my parents went to Mexico to use Mom’s teaching degree and Dad’s doctoring skills. My face flamed red. How selfish I must seem to my dad. Living in the land of the free and complaining because he’d been gone from me. I suddenly understood how my mom could sacrifice her life for such a cause.

  “I want to help,” I said.

  Dad’s head rotated so quickly he probably gave himself whiplash. “No, Cassidy. It’s too dangerous.”

  “Stop protecting me.” I wrapped my hand around his arm, begging with my eyes. “I’m not a little girl anymore. I could do a lot of good with all the money you left for me.”

  “I don’t mind you donating some money, but I don’t want you anywhere near the traffickers.” He took a deep breath. “I still haven’t forgiven myself for letting your mom get involv
ed. But I could never tell that woman no.” He blinked quickly then smiled at me. “You’re more like her than you know.”

  Now I was the one blinking. I released his arm and hugged him awkwardly over the console. This obviously wasn’t the time to fight him for the right to help in his cause, but someday soon I’d figure out a way to get involved.

  “You’re amazing, Cassie. I’m proud of you.”

  My throat felt thick. “I’m proud of you too, Dad."

  He pulled back and looked at me. “What for?”

  “For saving the world.”

  The wrinkles around his mouth and eyes deepened. I’d never thought my dad could age, but the past few years had obviously been hard. “One child at a time.”

  I let that linger as long as I could handle before I cleared my throat. “Tell me about the children.”

  A genuine smile crossed his face. “They’re adorable.” Then his eyes clouded. “The ones that the slavers haven’t . . . damaged too much are so loving and grateful.”

  I nodded. He was still protecting me, not wanting me to know about the damage the slavers were inflicting. “I’d love to help the children,” I said. “To even think of someone hurting Tate . . .” My voice trailed off as we both shuddered.

  “I understand you want to help but I really can’t stand the thought of you being anywhere near danger.”

  I didn’t point out how much danger I’d been in right here in safe little Cache Valley. A plan started formulating in my mind of how I would help. “Are you coming in?” I changed the subject to ease my dad’s worry lines. “I’m sure Nana will have breakfast ready.”

  “I wish. Nana is at the store.” He pointed at a dark blue sedan parked a few houses over. “That’s my replacement. They’ll watch over you. I’m going to a hotel to get some sleep.”

  “I don’t understand why you can’t stay here with us.”

  He shrugged. “Not sure I do, either, but it’s what the FBI is suggesting right now. I think they want to spread the bait around.” He frowned. “Sorry. Not that you’re bait.”

  I shivered again. “Glad to be so appealing.”

  Dad reached over me and unlatched the car door. “You’d better get inside. Don’t worry. The house is clean. We haven’t seen anything from Ramirez’s men for the past two weeks and the FBI does a good job with surveillance. We’ll be okay.”