Chapter
One
There’s nothing
that kills the epic buzz of tracking a bail jumper quite like having to pee. It
always seems like Mother Nature wanted to call at the most inopportune moments.
Like when you’re in the back of an SUV going a hundred miles an hour down the
interstate or when you’re hiding in some overgrown brush off the beaten path.
But even if you were somewhere close to running water or flushing toilets, it
wouldn’t really matter. Since most jumpers were male, you could pretty much
count on not busting them in the ladies room.
Right now was a
perfect example of the “to pee or not to pee” dilemma. Stationed at my post
near the mall’s food court, I appeared your average teenage girl. I sent a
flurry of texts to a faux friend while slurping on a strawberry Brain Freeze
from the Tastee Shack. But every sip sent me into the shifting pee dance.
I
tried shutting the thought from my mind. Instead, I focused on envisioning the
mug shot my dad had shown me earlier in the day. An image formed in my mind as
plain as if I were seeing the suspect in front of me—brown hair, hazel eyes,
slight build, faint scar over the right eye. Having a photographic memory came
in really handy in my—well my dad’s line of work.
I know it’s not
unusual for kids to work in the family business or to follow in their parents’
footsteps when it comes to career choices. But you see, my dad doesn’t have
your typical 9-5 office job. As a Bail Enforcement Officer aka Bounty Hunter,
you could say his hours were more 24-7. Jumpers, those charged with crimes who
don’t show up for their court dates, don’t really operate on a schedule. Sucky
hours and crazy working conditions aside, there was nothing more exhilarating
than taking out the bad guy and keeping the wheels of justice running smoothly.
Only a few hours
earlier, we had stood in our office, Lonestar Bail Bonds, surveying the white
board that covered one entire wall. Mug shots littered the board along with
scribbled out jumper stats. My dark haired, dark eyed twin brothers, Remington,
or Remy as we called him, and Colt, stood on either side of me.
Dad, who was way
more suave and sophisticated like James Bond than the rough around the edges,
mullet sporting Dog the Bounty Hunter, had motioned to a picture in the middle
of the board and then drew in a deep breath. “Today we’re going after Randy
Oakley. He’s got two prior arrests for identity theft. He failed to make two
court appointments this month, and he’s got a $40,000 bond.”
Since I had just
turned sixteen a few months ago and Colt and Remy were eighteen, Dad only
involved us on the low-key jumpers—ones where he was pretty sure the suspects
wouldn’t be carrying a weapon or pose a serious threat upon apprehension. For
the more serious suspects, those with drugs, weapons charges or ones who had
done time in prison, Dad used his two beefy body-builder type associates, Jeb
and Kyle.
Colt ran his hand
over his buzzed hair. “What’s on tap for our share this time?” Of the twins, he
was the one most concerned with how our 10-20% of the bounty would be used. We
jokingly called him the Accountant. Outfitted in khaki pants and a polo shirt,
he even looked the part.
Dad smiled as his
gaze locked on mine. “I believe your sister needs a car.”
“Really? I can finally
get the Mustang?” I squealed.
“We catch Oakley,
and the Mustang is yours,” Dad replied.
I lunged over and
threw my arms around Dad’s neck. I’d been drooling over the classic 67’ burgundy Mustang for months. I had
been pestering Dad night and day about it, but until now, my nagging seemed to
have fallen on deaf ears.
When I pulled
away, Remy tugged on my long ponytail. “That’ll be a sweet ride, Little Sis.”
“Just don’t expect
to be borrowing it anytime soon.”
Remy grinned as he
slid on his worn Astros baseball cap. “All right, all right. How about I call
shotgun for starters?”
“Deal.”
“Time out guys.
Aren’t you getting a little ahead of yourselves? I mean, where are we even
supposed to find this dude?” Colt asked.
“I just had a call
from an informant that he’s at Richland Mall,” Dad replied.
Remy snorted.
“What’s he doing there? Catching up on the latest fashions?”
Colt snickered
with Remy as I cleared my throat. “Since he’s an identity thief, I would
imagine he’s working the malls for prospective victims. A lifted wallet or two
could mean social security numbers and credit cards, not to mention driver’s
licenses.”
Dad bobbed his
head. “Jules is absolutely right.”
Remy rolled his
eyes. “Of course she is. Jules is always right.”
Mocking Dad’s
usual high praise of me, Colt joined in with, “I sure wish we weren’t going to
lose Jules to law school. She’s probably going to be a better bounty hunter
than all of us put together!”
Saying my brothers
hadn’t been too stoked when Dad officially added me to the Apprehension Team
aka “the physically going after the bad guys team” a year ago would be an
understatement. It was a major milestone in being a bounty hunter, and the fact
that I was only fifteen at the time really irked them. The reason wasn’t that
they were sexist pigs who thought girls couldn’t be bounty hunters. No, it was
the fact they hadn’t gotten to join until they were sixteen.
It went without
saying that I didn’t appreciate when they gave me crap about it. So, my
response was to reach over and smack Remy’s arm.
“Easy killer,” he
said with a grin.
Before I could
argue, Dad interrupted with, “All right then, we gotta hustle.” Which in Dad language meant, “Get your
earpiece listening devices along with your mace and haul ass to the car!”
Remy’s voice
buzzing in my earpiece brought me out of my daydream at Dad’s office and back
into the present at the mall. “Crazytrain, eyeballin’ a stacked hottie of epic
proportions. ETA to you in two minutes, thirty seconds.”
I
rolled my eyes at the idiocy that was my brothers. We all had code names, so to
speak. Colt was Crazytrain, Remy was Rocketman, and I was Jewel of the Nile —a
reference to both my nick-name and the first movie my parents saw together on a
date. Dad…well, he was Big Papa.
Colt was quick to
reply. “Copy that, Rocketman. Will be a welcome
change from the American Kennel Club that’s been rolling by me the last five
minutes. It’s almost like the time we busted that guy at the Westminster Dog
Show.”
I
groaned. “Um, excuse me, Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dumber, could you please
think with your brains and not your penises while we’re on the same frequency?”
“Jewel
of the Nile ,” my father’s voice warned.
“Wait
a minute, you’re calling me out? But I’m not the one who—”
“I’m
speaking to everyone when I say keep the frequency clear!” Dad ordered.
“Yes
sir,” my brothers and I mumbled.
We
remained true to our vow of silence until Remy’s voice came over the earpiece
again. “I have visual with Oakley, Big Papa. He just took the escalator down to
the first floor,” he relayed in a hushed tone.
Then he paused. I pictured Remy hurrying onto the escalator--his eyes
burning into the back of Oakley’s head. Once Oakley had made his decision on a direction,
Remy said, “ETA to your station is two minutes, thirty seconds.”
“Copy
that. All parties move towards the center of the mall,” Dad replied.
Just
before I could toss my drink away, Remy’s voice caused me to shudder to a stop.
“Suspect appears heightened someone might be on his tail….Shit, he appears to
making a break for it out the side entrance!”
Dad
and I must have been doing mental math at the same time because just as I
realized Oakley was coming straight toward me, Dad said, “Jewel of the Nile do
not engage the suspect.”
I
didn’t respond. Instead, I positioned myself in front of a storefront, so I
could watch for Oakley’s reflection in the glass.
“Julianne,
do not engage!”
Using my real name meant Dad was extremely, extremely
serious, and I should back off. When he had finally allowed me to start
coming along on apprehensions, his explicit instructions had been I was never
to get physical with any of the suspects. I carried mace like the others, but
it was strictly for defensive purposes, not to be used offensively like Dad or
the boys did. Not being a full part of the action sucked, and I was more than
ready to prove myself.
So I fought the
urge to reply, “Like hell!” to Dad. I
mean, it wasn’t just about proving myself. If this guy got away, so did the
payment for my car. And I wanted that car…bad.
When
Oakley’s reflection emerged on the glass, I drew in a deep breath. I turned and
then fell in step behind him. Reaching forward, I tapped him on the back.
“Excuse me, sir?” I asked in the sweetest
voice I could muster.
He
whirled around. His wild eyes darted around us before finally focusing on me.
“Whadya want, Blondie?”
Normally,
I would have verbally assaulted anyone who dared call me Blondie and not
my name, but now was not the time for that. “I’m doing a survey for the mall on
customer appreciation. Would you mind if I asked you a few questions?”
He
raked his hand through his disheveled hair.
I don’t think he’d used a comb in a good two weeks. There was probably
enough grease in there to deep fry something. “Actually, I’m kinda in a hurry.”
“Oh,
but it won’t take but just a sec. I promise.” I resorted to the worst feminine
wiles I could by cocking my head and batting my eyelashes. “See, I’ve got just
one more survey to meet my quota, and then I can go home. And I can tell you’re
just the kinda guy who wants to help a girl out. Am I right?”
Before
I could humiliate myself further by doing a girlie toss of my ponytail, Oakley
sighed. “All right, all right. I’ll answer your damn questions. Now hurry up!”
A
voice in my ear said, “30 seconds ETA to suspect.”
I
smiled. “Oh thank you so much.” Leaning over, I handed Oakley my Brain Freeze.
“Hold this just a second, okay?”
He
rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whatever.”
When
I knew the guys were in sight of me, I drew in a deep breath and quickly
weighed my options. I had to subdue Oakley. If he caught sight of Dad or my
brothers, he would make a run for it, and my Mustang would disappear into thin
air just like he would.
As a little girl,
my mom had enrolled me in ballet classes while my dad started me in Karate. I
knew at this particular moment in time, toe shoes and tutus weren’t going to
help. Instead, I drew on my past as one of the easiest self-defense moves
popped into my mind. I didn’t question it—I just acted on it.
I cupped both of
my hands and then brought them as hard as I could against both of Oakley’s
ears. “Oomph!” he cried, before I whirled around and brought my elbow hard into
his abdomen. He doubled over and then smacked hard onto the ground.
The
world seemed to crawl to a standstill as Dad and my brothers came rushing up.
“Freeze! Don’t move! We have a warrant for your arrest!” Dad shouted, pointing
a can of extremely toxic pepper spray at Oakley.
“How
did you drop him?” Colt asked, as Remy bent over and started handcuffing
Oakley.
“Compression
hit with a little solarplex disabling.”
He
grinned. “Good choice. Drop em’ while not leaving any marks.”
“Except
maybe a busted ear drum,” Oakley grumbled.
“It’s
all part of the game, man. You run, and you pay the price,” Remy replied,
pulling Oakley to his feet.
“All
right everybody, show’s over,” Dad said, trying to push back the crowd that had
gathered since I had taken out Oakley. I guess it wasn’t everyday a teenage
chick dropped a dude in the middle of the food court. We weaved our way through
the people before coming face to face with Mall Security. Dad quickly flashed
his Bail Enforcement Agent badge.
The
guard’s gaze trailed over it and then back to my Dad. “So you’re really a
bounty hunter?”
“Sure am.”
The guard leaned
in, “So do you like know Dog Chapman?”
Dad
suppressed a laugh. “No, unfortunately I don’t.”
His
face fell. “Bummer.”
“Yeah, it is. But, if you’ll excuse me, I need
to get him over to county.”
The
mall cop nodded. “Oh yeah, sure, go right ahead.”
Oakley
snorted. “Lucky me. Some people have a celebrity like Dog taking them out. But
me, I get Blondie here on a roid’ rage!”
Dad
nudged Oakley. “Watch it, or I’ll let her have a second go at you!”
He
glanced back at me and winked. I bit my lip to keep from laughing. Most fathers
might discourage their daughters from getting involved in bounty hunting, but
Dad never did. He made sure to take the necessary precautions, but I could tell
he would rather have us with him than anything in the world.
A blast of
scorching Texas heat met us as we
left the cool comfort of the air-conditioned mall. I could even feel the heat of
the concrete through my flip-flops. Dad led Oakley to our Tahoe with Remy and
Colt on either side of him while I trailed behind them. Once Dad got Oakley
buckled in (no easy feat when a guy’s handcuffed), he tossed the keys to Remy.
Low key criminal or not, Dad never left one of us alone in the backseat with a
fugitive.
I
climbed into the front seat as Remy cranked up. We’d barely gotten out of the
mall parking lot when Oakley asked, “Any chance of you bailing me out?”
Dad
sighed. “Now Randy, you should know by now how this all works. You missed two
court dates without any calls to your probation officer or your bond agent.
That’s a straight ticket to county lockup until your next court date.”
Oakley
grunted but didn’t argue with Dad. Instead, he just peered straight ahead as we
dodged in and out of traffic. For a summer night, there seemed to be more
people out than usual.
In the last six
months, the outside of the Waco City Jail had become a very familiar place to
me. But I had yet to manage to weasel my way inside to the booking area. Since
I was under eighteen, Dad didn’t permit me to. But with my bladder screaming in
agony, I knew now was the night to get in.
Remy eased the Tahoe
up to the backdoor, and Dad hopped out. When I started to open my door, he
shook his head. “Jules, you know the drill.”
“But I have to
pee!” I protested.
With one hand
gripping Oakley’s arm, Dad used his other to pinch the bridge above his nose.
“Fine. There’s a bathroom right inside the backdoor. Use it and come right back
to the car. Understand?”
I
fought my excitement as I bobbed my head and followed along behind my dad and
brothers. When we reached the backdoor, Dad reached over and pressed on a red
button.
An
impatient voice crackled over the intercom beside it. “Yeah?”
“BEA
with a felon for booking,” Dad replied.
The
door buzzed unlocked, and Dad pushed Oakley through it. I stood cemented to the
ground, taking everything in—the grungy counter where two officers stood
waiting to take felons back to jail, the intricate system of locking doors
meant to keep criminals in. It was so cool finally seeing it all.
“Right there,
Jules,” Dad said, jerking his head towards a unisex bathroom.
“Okay,
thanks.”
Remy
tossed me the car keys, so I wouldn’t have to wait in the scorching heat when I
was finished. Dad eased Oakley up to the booking counter as I eyed the
bathroom. Even though I had serious questions about the cleanliness of the
facility, I still hustled inside and did my business.
As soon as I was done, I hurried back out to
the car and cranked it up. While waiting for Dad and the boys to return, I
wished I’d remembered to bring a book—anything to entertain myself.
I’d
only gone out on one apprehension, so I really shouldn’t have been so tired.
But with the adrenaline rush from the mall depleted, it wasn’t long before I
nodded off. I didn’t wake up until we pulled into the half-mile driveway
leading to our ranch. I guess you could call us typical Texans with the
ranch—Dad had a few head of cattle he raised on the side, and we also had
horses.
As we jostled over
the gravel, I rose up and yawned.
“Catch ya a little
nap, Sleeping Beauty,” Dad said, with a smile.
I
grinned. “Yeah, it’s been a long day.”
“Don’t
feel bad. The boys have been snoring since we hit the interstate.”
A
glance in the backseat confirmed that both my brothers were dead to the world.
Dad
glanced over at me. “I imagine you were dreaming of that Mustang, huh?”
“Maybe.
When do you think we can get it?”
“Hopefully
in the next few days if your patience holds out that long.”
I
laughed. “I can try.”
A
shadow crossed over Dad’s face. “Listen Jules, there’s something we need to
talk about.”
“There
is?”
We
turned the corner, and the blazing house lights met us. Dad eased the SUV into
the driveway. “Let’s try to talk after dinner, okay?”
If
you hadn’t already guessed, patience wasn’t high on my list of virtues.
Considering it was already after nine and both Dad and I were exhausted, I
wasn’t sure the conversation would actually go down tonight at all. “Whatever,”
I mumbled, as I hopped out of the SUV.
My
grandmother, or Big Mama as we called her, stood in the doorway. Outfitted in
her favorite pink and white floral housedress, her salt and pepper bob blew in
the evening breeze. “How’d it go?” she asked, as she rubbed my back. Even
though it was the family business, she still wasn’t thrilled about me going out
with the guys. She had managed to discourage my two aunts from doing anything
bounty hunting related.
“We
got him, so I get my Mustang.”
She
grinned. “Come on, let’s get inside,” she ordered, ushering me through the
door. Dad’s parents had kinda been living with us for the last six years.
Originally, they’d moved in full time after my mom had blown town, but when Mom
never came home and we got a little older, they started gradually going back to
their house. It wasn’t a total hardship on them since their ranch was only a
mile down the road. A lot of nights, they’d just go home at bedtime or dark,
and Big Mama would be back by breakfast.
I guess you could say we lived on this compound kinda thing. Between
Dad, Granddaddy, and my two aunts, we owned almost five hundred acres.
It
was Granddaddy who started Lonestar Bail Bonds forty years ago, and like the
boys and me, Dad started working with him when he was just a kid. Granddaddy
came from a long line of lawmen—cops, detectives, FBI agents. Enforcing the law
was in his blood. He had technically retired a couple of years ago, but he
still helped Dad out with cases.
“Hungry?”
Big Mama asked, as our shoes clicked along the blue and white tiled floor of
the foyer.
“Starved,”
I replied.
She
nodded. “I’ve kept some chili warm for you and the boys. If you’re starved, I’m
sure they’re famished!”
My
stomach grumbled in appreciation at her words. Big Mama’s chili was
legendary—she’d even won some local cooking contests with it.
I
eased myself into a chair at the massive mahogany table while Dad went to the
sink to wash up. In his favorite striped pajamas and navy robe, Granddaddy
padded into the kitchen with a file in his hand. He leaned over and kissed my
cheek before turning his attention to Dad. “Tom Blalock called while you guys
were out.”
“Fabulous,”
Dad grumbled, grinding the sleep out of his eyes with his fists. Granddaddy nodded. “Sounds like a
doozy,” he replied, as he passed Dad the file.
Dad
flopped down at the head of the table and started thumbing the paperwork. Big
Mama came to the table with bowls and silverware. “Nathaniel St. James, what
have I said about doing business at the dinner table?”
Like
an obedient child, he closed the file. He tried to change the subject by
sniffing appreciatively of the air. “You knew just what I wanted, didn’t you,
Mom?”
Colt
and Remy ambled over to the table, still looking bleary eyed from their
backseat snoozing. Although they had
already eaten, Granddaddy and Big Mama sat down with us.
We
ate in silence for a few minutes, devouring the chili like it was our last meal
on Death Row. As he munched on a corn muffin, Remy eyed the manila folder
beside Dad. “What’s the file about?”
Dad
warily glanced at Big Mama who just harrumphed as she got up from the table.
When she was elbow deep in soap suds at the sink, Dad thought it was safe to
continue. “It’s from my buddy, Tom, in Florida .
He’s had a case brewing for a couple of weeks and thought he might bring me in on
it.” Dad sighed. “And tonight he officially asked me to take it.”
Bondsmen often called on other people in the
business for help, and since Dad was well known not just in Texas ,
but throughout the Southeast, he often got called on to pick up a case.
Sometimes when we were out of school for the summer, it even involved us
packing up for a month or two and renting a house. This summer Dad had been
toying with the idea of going to Georgia
to help out some of his relatives. I think he’d had a hard time saying yes
since that’s where my mom now lived, and it would be too painful for him to be
so close to her.
With all that
said, I knew Tom asking for help wasn’t too unusual, but the expression on
Dad’s face was. He had to be holding something back.
“Then what’s the problem?” I asked.
Dad hesitated
slightly before replying, “The bond is a million dollars.”
My
spoon clattered noisily into my bowl. “Are you serious? A million
dollars?”
Remy
and Colt both stared at Dad in disbelief. The largest bounty Dad had ever
worked on was in the hundred thousand’s but never more than half a million.
“But
what you have to remember is a guy with a million dollar bond did some pretty
serious stuff. Therefore, it’s not like going out to the mall or hunting him
through his cronies’ neighborhoods. He’s someone who will make sure he’s not
going to be found. That means being heavily armed in a secure hideout.”
“Wow,”
I murmured.
The
table fell silent. We sat that way for an agonizing minute or two before Colt
cleared his throat. “So does this mean you’ll be working the case with Tom?” He
was asking the question that I knew was on both of the twins and my minds—he
just wasn’t asking it directly. And that question was whether we would
be working the case as well.
Dad
rubbed his chin with his napkin. “Since Tom brought the case to my attention,
I’ve been mulling over the prospect of involving you boys. You’re eighteen
now—a legal age to own a gun and fight for your country in war. So, you should
be able to come along on the case.”
Remy
and Colt’s eyes widened. “Dude, are you serious? We’re working a million dollar
bond case!” Colt exclaimed as Remy asked, “You’re really going to let us go to Florida
with you?”
Dad
smiled and bobbed his head. Both boys shot out of their chairs, whooping it up
and slapping each other on the back. I, on the other hand, sat in a stunned
silence. “And what about me?” I practically shouted over the celebratory noise.
Dad’s
face fell. “Jules, I can’t let you go along on a case like this. You’re too
young.”
“But
I’m a part of the Apprehension Team now,” I protested.
“I’m
sorry, but you can’t be a part of this one. It’s too dangerous.”
Out
of respect, the boys stopped celebrating and returned to their chairs. Chewing
on my lip, I willed myself not to cry. “I can still come to Florida
with you guys, right? Just because I’m not working the case doesn’t mean I have
to stay here.”
Dad
and Granddaddy exchanged glances while Big Mama snorted exasperatedly. “You
haven’t told her yet, have you?” she demanded.
My
eyebrows arched in surprise. “Told me what?”
Big
Mama wagged her finger at Dad. “I’ve told you for two weeks that you needed to
tell Julianne the truth, but did you listen to me? No, of course not! Now
you’re going to have to go and tell her tonight?” She shook her head as
she untied her yellow gingham apron. “Well, I’m not going to have any part of
it.”
As
she flounced out of the room, Granddaddy rose from his chair. He jerked his
silver head at the boys, and they obediently followed him out.
Once
we were alone, I crossed my arms over my chest and shot Dad a murderous look.
“Why do I get the sudden feeling I’m about to get some really crappy news?”
He
sighed. “Jules, I’ve been talking to your mother—”
A small gasp
escaped my lips before I could help myself. “You know how I feel about her!” It
was a well-known fact in our family that I held a pretty strong grudge against
my mom for leaving. Over the past few years, Colt and Remy had gone and visited
her during the summers or some of the holidays. But me, I flat out refused to
see or talk to her.
“I know that, but
we’ve been speaking pretty frequently the last few months about the boys and
you. She sounds a lot better—almost like the old Annabel.” A far-away look
entered Dad’s eyes like he was reliving a happy memory. Then he shook his head,
pushing away the thoughts of better times. “Anyway, she’s been very concerned
about you.”
“Why
me?”
“Maybe
it’s because she hasn’t seen you in two years, and she misses her daughter and
her baby.”
Gritting
my teeth, I argued, “I’m not her baby anymore.”
“Look
Jules, I think you’ve avoided your mother long enough. It would be the best
thing for the both of you if you spent some time with her in Savannah .”
I
rocketed out of my chair so quick it clattered noisily to the floor. “Are you
insane? Spend the entire summer in a strange city with Mom, who might as well
be a stranger to me?”
“Savannah
isn’t a strange city. You spent time there every summer when you were little,”
Dad argued.
Shaking
my head, I countered, “That’s when we were all still a family and went to see
Grandma and Grandpa. But they’re gone now, and there’s nothing left but that
massive house that might as well be a tomb!”
“Jules,
please—” Dad reached out for me, but I slung his hand away.
“I
hate her and all those society snobs she worships!” I shook my head furiously.
“I won’t go! Do you hear me? I WON’T!”
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