Page 44 of One in a Million
Flashing lights and sirens were already pushing in through the main entrance, past the gate they’d broken through. The so-called demonstrators were running back across the pastures toward their cars. The relief that buckled Jasmine’s knees was short-lived. She was as guilty as the others. Worse, if anybody were to talk—which was bound to happen—she could be named as the one who’d guided the group across the pastures.
Someone had dropped a torch. Where it had fallen, the dry grass began to blaze. Summoning what remained of her strength, Jasmine joined her former friends, running hard as the troopers, some driving four-wheelers, closed in behind them.
CHAPTERTWELVE
Driven by panic, Jasmine stumbled over the uneven ground. One of her boots had lost its heel, and she was nursing a painful stitch in her side. But to stop, even long enough to catch her breath, would raise the odds of her being caught, charged, and sent to prison. She hadn’t just been dragged into this mess. She’d been the guide—a key player who could be named and identified.
Behind her, the fire, started by the fallen torch, was blazing six feet high as it burned its way toward the animal pens. Someone had called the fire crew. They were moving in with hoses and shovels.
The four-wheelers, which would have been trailered to the site, were roaring across the bumpy landscape, their headlights bobbing in the dark. Other troopers had joined the chase on foot. Jasmine glimpsed one runner being cut off and forced to his knees. There would be others, any one of whom could identify her by name.
A rabbit—white, one of Charlie’s—streaked across her path. An animal like that one, its color standing out against the landscape, wouldn’t last long out here before being caught by an eagle or coyote. Jasmine felt the same about her own chances. It was only a matter of time.
Thirty yards ahead and to her right, a dense thicket of mesquite made a dark smudge against the pale ground. If she could reach it, she could belly crawl under and hide in its deep shadow. There could be snakes in there, and the thorns would rip her skin and clothes, but she would have to take her chances. Anything would be better than going to prison.
Turning toward it, she twisted her ankle. The pain brought tears to her eyes with every step, but she forced herself to keep moving. The headlights were gaining on her. Had she already been spotted?
She had nearly reached the mesquite thicket when a tall figure came at her from out of nowhere, pinioning her arms to her sides. She fought and thrashed, but his grip was too strong for her.
“It’s all right, Jasmine. I’ve got you.”
Her legs went limp as she recognized the deep voice that spoke in her ear. It was Sam—here to save her. But he was making no effort to hide or run. What was going on?
“Act like you’ve been caught,” he muttered. “That’s the only way we’re getting you out of here.”
Jasmine understood. She thrashed and cursed as he pulled her hands behind her back, clapped the cuffs around her wrists, and turned her roughly around in the opposite direction. “Now march. The Jeep’s outside the main gate. We’ve got a score to settle, you and me, lady!”
Was he putting on a show, or did he mean what he’d said? Sam had warned her about getting involved with these people. She’d ignored his advice. If he was furious with her, she could hardly blame him.
Biting back a whimper with every step, she let Sam propel her back up the slope. Now she could see the damage to the game complex. The fire, thank heavens, had been brought under control, the gate to the cat compound closed again. But the ground outside was littered with castoff signs, torches, broken fencing, broken glass, and other debris.
A trooper had come out of the house, onto Charlie’s veranda. “Nobody home in there,” he said, eyeing Jasmine. “Looks like you caught one of the bastards, Agent. If you need help, I can take her off your hands. We’ve got a van loaded and headed for lockup in the next few minutes.”
“Thanks for the offer, but I’ve been looking for this one a long time,” Sam said. “She’s got a stack of warrants and a record as long as your arm. I’ll be turning her in myself. Meanwhile, I’m not letting her out of my sight.”
“Suit yourself.” The trooper waved them on.
Limping and handcuffed, Jasmine allowed Sam to prod her down the driveway to where the Jeep waited outside the open gate. She understood that they were probably being watched. What she didn’t know was how much of Sam’s anger was for show and how much was real.
Leaving the cuffs on her wrists, he boosted her into the Jeep. She avoided meeting his gaze as he reached around her to fasten her seat belt. The grim set of his mouth told her that he wasn’t just play-acting. He was furious with her.
He started the Jeep, backed out of the driveway, and turned around. “Where’s your car?” he asked.
“Down on the roadside with the others. I was planning to drive straight home after the . . . demonstration.”
“We’ll need to get it out of there. You’d better hope it hasn’t already been towed to impound. Once we’re out of sight, you can wipe that black off your face.” He passed her a clean handkerchief. His voice was cold as he gunned the engine. The Jeep shot down the graveled lane that provided access from the main road to the game ranch.
Jasmine began rubbing the black off her face. “Sam, I’m sorry—”
“Don’t say a word. We’ll talk when you’re safe.”
Tires spitting gravel, they rounded the corner onto the main road. Jasmine could see the line of parked vehicles. Her Corvette was where she’d left it.
“Lean forward.” Sam reached behind her and unlocked the handcuffs. “I’ll take your car in case there are any questions. You drive the Jeep home—now. Don’t wait for me. Keys?”
Jasmine found the keys in the pocket of her jeans. Thankful they hadn’t fallen out, she handed them over without a word and climbed down from the passenger side.
With the engine running, he waited for her to come around the vehicle and helped her into the driver’s seat. “Go,” he said. “They’ll be here any minute. If they catch you, we’ll both be in trouble.”