Should Have Been Me – Chapter 20

Jason Small was beginning to think his quarry had a bladder the size of a pea. He'd been following the pretty blond woman in the silver Honda coupe for nearly two hours and she had already made two pit stops at fast food restaurants along I-45. At the first one, she had come out carrying a bag, presumably containing some sort of breakfast food. About thirty minutes later, she stopped again, but this time she was in and out in less than five minutes and came out empty handed.

He had just pulled his rented SUV back out onto the southbound lane of I-45, careful to keep several vehicles between his and the Honda, when his cell phone rang.

"Hi, Boss," Small answered. Only one person on the planet had the number for this particular cell phone.

"I assume you found everything you needed," Byron James Ronson stated evenly.

"Sure did. Everything was in the computer file attached to the email—addresses, names, photos, the works," Small replied, glancing over at a laser printed photo on the seat next to him. The picture showed the young woman he was following getting into a blue and white pickup truck with a man whose smiling face made Small's blood boil, Ranger Francis Gage.

"Where are you now?"

"Uh, yeah, about that. I'm following the Ranger's girlfriend like you told me to, but it looks like she's going on vacation or something. I'm two hours south of Dallas on I-45, just outside of Madisonville." He braced himself for the explosive reaction he knew was coming.

"Great! That's just great! Julie Gage is out of town and now the girlfriend splits, too. I swear to God, Jason, if you blabbed to somebody about my escape and the Rangers got wind of it—"

"No! I didn't tell a soul, Boss, honest! It has to be just coincidence. The Wright woman left her house early this morning with one suitcase, maybe enough stuff for a week or ten days, at most."

"I can't wait a week. Since I haven't seen my face on the local news yet, I assume those incompetents at the county prison don't even know I'm gone yet, but that won't last past lunchtime. I thought I'd have Julie in hand by now."

"How do you know Julie is out of town?" Small inquired.

"I called the newspaper and asked to speak to her. The person I talked to said she was out of town until tomorrow."

"Guess it's a good thing Finch identified the Ranger's girlfriend as another potential target. He'll trade the files for her as quick as he would for his sister, don't you think?"

"That's what I'm counting on. Like I'm counting on you to not screw this up, Jason. You grab her and bring her to me just like I told you—unharmed. Once I get what I need out of the ranger you can have your fun with her, but until then, if you touch her, I'll kill you myself. Understand?" Ronson's voice was pure steel.

"No need to get testy. I've got as much of a stake in this as you do. If they can't convict you, then the accessory charges against me go away, too. She won't have a mark on her, I swear," Small promised.

"OK, then. Call when you have her," Ronson barked before abruptly hanging up. Small folded the phone shut and dropped it into his inside jacket pocket.

He figured it probably wouldn't be more than thirty minutes or so before she needed to take another potty break. He'd scope out the situation and if he could take her without being seen, he would. Otherwise, he'd wait and watch for a better opportunity. It wasn't like he had any other pressing engagements.

Of course, it wouldn't be easy obeying Ronson's order to keep his hands to himself. The girlfriend was very pretty and had legs for days. He was a leg man, always had been. Other guys went for breasts or butts, but he got a special thrill from making his women wrap their long, silky legs around his waist, or better yet, drape them over his shoulders. Oh, yeah, he needed to work fast with this one. The quicker he grabbed her, the quicker he could turn her over to Ronson and rid himself of the temptation. He never had been any good at resisting temptation. His lengthy rap sheet was proof of that.

-----

Callie couldn't keep her eyes open anymore. Between the morning sickness—she'd known that breakfast burrito was a bad idea, but it just looked so good in the picture—and her total lack of sleep the night before, she was done in and it wasn't even noon. As much as she hated to do it, she was going to have to stop and rest or she'd end up a highway crash statistic.

Scanning the selection of motels along the highway, she spotted one she recognized. She'd stayed at the Starlight Inn four years ago when she'd first moved to Dallas from Houston. She remembered it had clean rooms and plentiful hot water as well as a pretty decent restaurant located just across the parking lot. It would be as good a place as any to get some sleep before continuing on to her grandfather's new place in Galveston.

Twenty minutes later, she sat on the bed in her room and called her grandfather to say she'd be arriving tomorrow instead of this afternoon. Then, she dialed Liz's cell phone number and told her where she was. She had promised Gage to tell Liz where she was going and Liz had insisted that she call her whenever and wherever she stopped along the way.

"Are you sure you're OK? Why did you stop so soon? I thought you'd get at least to Huntsville before I heard from you," Liz inquired.

"I'm just worn out. Losing my breakfast this morning didn't help and I didn't get any sleep last night. I thought about getting a good eight hours sleep and a meal and then pushing on, but Grandpa will worry about me driving after dark, so I'll probably stay the night here. I'll get an early start tomorrow. That should still put me in Galveston well before lunchtime," Callie replied.

"I still think you should have at least left Trent a note or something. He'll panic when he doesn't hear from you." She didn't go as far as to tell her what a mess Trent was after the party. The girl had enough to worry about.

"Liz, you promised you wouldn't tell him anything. You aren't backing out on me now, are you?"

"No, I said I wouldn't tell and I won't. Wild horses couldn't drag it out of me, but if he asks, can I at least tell him that you are alright and that eventually you will get in touch with him?"

"Yes, you can tell him that much. I don't want him filing missing person reports or issuing a statewide alarm," Callie said, only half joking.

"Do you think he'd do that?" Liz didn't see the humor.

"No, I think he'll check my house first and when he doesn't find me there, he'll ask Captain O'Malley if he's heard from me. O'Malley will tell him all he knows, which is that I requested two weeks vacation effective immediately. I was surprised the captain didn't ask for more details, but he didn't and I didn't offer any. After that, he'll probably just keep calling my cell phone every five minutes. I intend to turn it off as soon as I hang up with you."

"You know he'll eventually ask Gage what he knows, and he won't ask nicely," Liz stated.

"Yeah, I know," Callie acknowledged. "Gage and I talked about that when he took me home last night. He wishes I would tell Trent the truth, but he respects my decision. He has no idea where I'm going, so even if Trent confronts him, he can't tell him what he doesn't know."

"Do you think Trent will let it go at that?"

"Gage is a big boy, or so he told me last night when I asked him that very thing. I hope Trent knows better than to take on a black-belt Texas Ranger."

"I hope so, too, but a man in love whose woman has gone missing isn't usually the most rational guy in the room," Liz affirmed.

Callie couldn't picture Trent actually fighting anyone over her. He'd never attempted to buck the system in any way, not with Captain O'Malley, not with his family. He hadn't even argued much when she told him about Gage's offer to be her 'cover'. As long as it would allow them to remain both partners and lovers, it was OK by him.

"I'm pretty sure it won't come to that," Callie told Liz just as she let loose with a tremendous yawn.

"Sounds like you could use a nap. I'll let you go for now, but don't forget to call me when you head out tomorrow morning," Liz commanded.

"Aye, aye, skipper," Callie returned. "Bye, Liz, and thanks for understanding."

"Don't give me too much credit. I don't understand squat," Liz corrected her. "What's more, I think you're underestimating my nephew something awful. The only reason I agreed to any of this is because you threatened to disappear if I didn't. I care too much about Trent—and you—to let that happen."

"In that case, thank you for helping me, even though you don't understand. You are a formidable—yawn—friend, Liz Matthews. Good-bye," Callie concluded, snapping her phone shut and turning it off before dropping it into her purse.

Too tired to manage anything other than shucking her sneakers, she curled up on top of the king-size bed still wearing the black running shorts and pink t-shirt she'd had on since leaving home. She knew she should get up and brush her teeth, but it felt too good to be lying down, so she stayed put. And instead of fighting the next wave of exhaustion, she let it wash over her and carry her away.

-----

Sydney checked the caller ID on her phone. The call was from Walker, but as soon as Gage answered his phone, hers had stopped ringing. Walker must have been calling her to help locate Gage in case Trivette couldn't reach him. She wondered what could be so urgent.

She saw Gage's expression shift instantly from fuming anger to utter shock as he listened to Trivette.

"He what? How did that happen?" he hollered. Then, in answer to Sydney's puzzled expression, "Ronson escaped."

He switched his phone to speaker so Sydney could listen as Trivette briefly explained that Ronson disappeared from the prison loading dock late yesterday evening while he and two other inmates were supposed to be unloading supplies from several delivery trucks.

"He's been out more than twelve hours and we're just finding out about it now?" Gage was beyond furious; he was apoplectic. Ronson knew where Julie lived!

"The prison didn't even know he was missing until an hour ago. Apparently, one of the delivery drivers switched clothing with him and then actually took Ronson's place in the lockup, spent the night in his cell and everything, while Ronson drove off in the guy's truck. The switch wasn't discovered until this morning when—get this—Ronson's lawyer showed up to prep him for the evidentiary hearing scheduled for tomorrow," Trivette explained, adding, "I'm guessing Ronson didn't know he had the only lawyer in the country who makes Sunday morning prison calls."

"Yeah, he probably figured it would be Monday at the earliest before anybody missed him. Or maybe, he knew he only needed a few hours head start and it didn't matter if he was missed today," Walker added, joining the conversation on Trivette's end. The tinny quality of his voice told Gage that Trivette had put his phone on speaker, too.

"Walker, I have to get to Julie. The first thing he'll do is go after her," Gage affirmed.

"She's somewhere between here and San Francisco, remember? She had a job interview there," Sydney put in.

"Sydney?" Trivette piped up, surprise evident in his voice. "Did Gage drop in for breakfast again?"

Sydney cringed, hoping Gage wouldn't be upset that she'd given away his whereabouts. She cracked one eye open and with a pained expression mouthed the words, "I'm sorry."

"It's OK," he mouthed back, smiling. To Trivette, he scolded, "Jimmy, I ought to let you have it with both barrels for making something out of nothing, but I'm a little short on snappy comebacks right now since my sister's life is on the line! "

"Sorry, man," Jimmy replied, thinking that Gage wasn't giving himself enough credit in the snappy comeback department.

Walker steered the group back to the topic at hand.

"Gage, can you get in touch with your sister?" the senior ranger asked.

"Sure. I'm going to tell her to just stay put and not come back to Dallas until we locate Ronson."

Walker immediately shot that plan down. "She has to come back to testify at the evidentiary hearing tomorrow. Alex needs her to authenticate her files."

"Ronson has probably already been to her place and found out she isn't there. The question is what will he do now, wait there for her to come back, or try to find out where she is and use one of his West Coast contacts to get to her?" Trivette speculated.

Gage's blood pressure doubled as he pictured Ronson skulking around his sister's apartment building. He also didn't need to be reminded Ronson had his own underground communications network that stretched from here to Alaska, with hundreds of people willing to do whatever he asked.

"Our only choice is to call in the Federal Marshals," Walker stated.

"Witness protection? Not a chance! There has to be another way. Julie will never sit still for that, and neither will I!" Gage had never raised his voice to his boss before, but this was his only sister they were talking about. No way was he going to stand by and watch her be spirited away into the wild blue yonder.

"Gage, I'm not talking about that kind of protection, not yet anyway. The marshals can provide round-the-clock protection for her beginning immediately and continuing until after the hearing tomorrow. If we don't have Ronson back in custody by then, God knows how long it will take us to catch him. Julie would have to go into hiding anyway, either that or be in constant danger indefinitely. Why not let the marshals hide her? They're the experts," Walker reasoned.

"Let's just hope it doesn't come to that," Sydney interjected, laying a hand on Gage's arm to stay his next comment. "Have you got someone watching Julie's place in case he either hasn't been there yet or he goes back?"

"Yes, when I didn't get an answer at her place this morning, I put a call in to the state police in Whitesboro. Your buddy, Sergeant Montoya, said he would make sure her place was covered," Trivette assured her.

Gage put an arm around Sydney's shoulders and squeezed. "Tell the sergeant I owe him, big time," he said as he and Sydney shared a knowing smile.

"Uh, sure," Trivette replied, puzzling over the depth of gratitude evident in Gage's voice.

"In the meantime, Trivette, you call the marshals and tell them we'll be needing their help," Walker instructed. "Gage, you call Julie and find out where she is. If she's already at her job interview, tell her to stay there. If not, tell her to get in a cab and head straight to the airport. Then let Trivette know which it is and he'll tell the marshals where to meet her."

"You got it, boss," Gage responded.

Walker knew Gage still didn't like the idea of involving the feds. He also knew the younger ranger trusted him completely or he wouldn't have complied so unquestioningly with his last order. He hoped that trust was well placed. Ronson had been out too long for Walker to be completely sure of anything at the moment.

Gage was vaguely aware that a ruckus of some kind was providing background noise to the conversation he was having with Trivette and Walker. It sounded like a struggle, complete with raised voices and a loud CRASH!

As if on cue, Trivette mumbled, "What the heck…? What's he doing here?"

"Jimmy? Hey, Jimmy!" Gage all but shouted into the phone, trying to recapture Trivette's attention. "What's going on there?"

"Uh, you're not going to believe this, but your girlfriend's partner is here looking for you, and he seems rather upset," Trivette informed him.

Gage shot a glance at Sydney, whose expression darkened somewhat at Trivette's reference to Gage's 'girlfriend'. Syd may have forgiven him for his involvement with Callie, but he still had a lot of explaining to do to their friends.

He gave a little shrug and mouthed, "Sorry."

She shook her head and silently told him, "It's OK," before kissing him—very lightly and very quietly—on the cheek. Then she went into the bathroom and closed the door.

Forcing his attention back to the phone, Gage asked, "Can you get Trent over there so I can talk to him?"

"Yeah, sure. I think Walker just told him he could speak with you if he promised not to knock over any more chairs. Here they come."

"Gage? Are you there?" Trent hollered.

"Yeah, man, I'm right here. No need to shout. What are you doing at Ranger headquarters?"

"Looking for you. Where the hell is Callie?"

Gage so did not need this right now. A vicious killer was on the loose and gunning for his sister. He'd just proposed to Sydney and hadn't gotten an answer yet. And now, a rampaging Trent was busting up his place of work in search of his pregnant girlfriend, who was determined to avoid him at all costs. It had all the makings of a really bad country song. Trouble was, it was Gage's very real life.

"Trent, this really isn't a good time for this discussion. We've got kind of an emergency going on right now—"

"The only emergency I care about is finding Callie. She's gone, Gage. Packed a big suitcase, took two weeks leave and split. You can come here and we can hash this out, or you can make me come find you. Which is it going to be?"

"I don't suppose it would do any good to tell you I don't know where she is, would it?"

"Not one bit, because I don't believe you."

"Yeah, that's what I thought you'd say. OK, Trent, I'll be there in twenty minutes. Try not to break anything or get arrested before I get there. Hey, Trivette?"

"Yeah, buddy?"

"You might as well have him wait downstairs in the gym. I've got a feeling that's where we'll end up anyway."

Trivette switched his phone off of speaker and put the handset to his ear.

Lowering his voice so Trent wouldn't hear him, he offered a solution to Gage's problem. "You just say the word, man, and this guy is in handcuffs. He's already committed half a dozen misdemeanors."

"No, I knew this was coming. I just didn't think it would be today. It's a long story that I don't have time to tell you now. The gist of it is that he wants to know where Callie is and he isn't going to take 'I don't know' for an answer, even though I really don't know. Suffice it to say that the guy has a right to take a swing or two at me if he thinks he has to."

"Are we talking major bloodshed here?"

"No, more like a few significant bruises. Don't worry. The only EMT he'll need when I'm done is his partner, and that's as much as I can say about it right now. See you in a few minutes," Gage concluded.

"You got it, buddy. I'll escort him downstairs. Bye," Trivette finished and hung up.

Gage turned around to find Sydney fully dressed in black jeans and that glorious electric blue shirt she'd worn a while back. She must have finished getting ready while he was on the phone dealing with Trent.

"Did I hear you say Trent had a right to take a swing at you? What for?" Sydney quizzed him.

"Babe, I promise I'll tell you the whole story after Trent and I…uh, how did he put it? Hash things out. But first I have to call Julie and tell her about Ronson and the federal marshals. She's going to hate this plan even more than she hated the safe house idea. Looks like I get to take two beatings today, one verbal and one physical."

"Well, I have only one word to say to you right now, Francis Gage." She glowered at him, her hands on her hips, her mouth set in a thin line of disapproval.

"What?" he asked hesitantly.

Unable to hold her pretend scowl any longer, she broke into a mile-wide grin and said, "Yes!" right before she leaped into his arms and kissed him senseless.

-----

Small sat in his SUV in the parking lot between the motel and the restaurant, sipping a cup of coffee and congratulating himself for coming up with a plan to find out which room Gage's girlfriend was in. He could just wait and watch for her to leave her room, but that could take hours, maybe even all night. Ronson wanted results and he wanted them fast.

By registering for his own room at the Starlight Motel, which he had no intention of using, Small had accomplished two purposes: establishing his identity as Jay Miller, a traveling salesman from Idaho; and creating a friendly rapport with the clerk.

In an hour or so, 'Mr. Miller' would go back and mention that he thought he'd seen an old friend from back home, a Ms. Callie Wright, leave the restaurant and head toward the motel. Sadly, he would say, he hadn't seen which room she disappeared into. Would it be too much trouble, he would ask as innocently as possible, for him to get her room number? He would so love to chat with her again, and wouldn't she be surprised to see him here at the Starlight Motel, of all places, after all these years?

The tactic wasn't exactly foolproof. It presupposed that Callie was using her real name and that the motel clerk would think him as harmless as his fake glasses, walking cane and affected limp made him look. To a more astute observer, the limp and cane would appear incongruous with Small's body builder physique. His hazel eyes had no real need of glasses, except occasionally for reading, a consequence of turning forty years old. But the clerk, a short, rotund fellow with a perpetual deer-in-the-headlights expression, had readily accepted his performance as gospel. He had no reason to believe the man would question him. Small would be on his way back to Dallas with his captive before sundown.