Martinez's words hung in the air.
"I know I'm not going to like the answer," said Travis. "What the hell is happening?"
"You said that Cassidy's daughter was locked in an RV?" Martinez continued, "Well, we were doing surveillance and a recreational vehicle just left the compound heading north on County Route Seventeen."
The members of Los Diablos were professional criminals. A sheriff's deputy on their doorstep meant problems. Certainly, they had a plan for dealing with law enforcement. What was Booth up to? "Do you think it's a decoy? Or are they running away?"
"Your guess is as good as mine," said Martinez. "What do you want us to do? Follow the RV? Or stay here and work on the camera?"
Travis had no good options. What he did have was a single concern. If Brittney was taken from the compound, then she might never be seen again.
"Tail the RV. I'm right behind you." After ending the call, Travis turned to Cassidy. "I'll be back as soon as I know something."
Getting to her feet, she stepped into his path. "That's my daughter—you aren't leaving me behind."
"There's no time to argue," he said, pushing past Cassidy. "Not if you don't want to lose her."
Pressing her hand against the door, she said, "Then don't waste time arguing."
He'd told her no once, and she'd tried to confront Los Diablos on her own. As strong as she was, she'd still been outnumbered—and outgunned. Travis didn't want to think about what would've happened to Cassidy if he hadn't shown up. Besides, what the hell would she do if he left her behind now? Then again, he didn't know what they were about to find.
Travis cursed. "Come on, then. But you have to do exactly what I say. Got it?"
Minutes later, they were in his truck. County Route Seventeen ran arrow straight through miles of grasslands. Travis dropped his foot on the gas and the speedometer crept upward to sevent miles per hour. Eighty. Ninety.
The RV came into view. He passed the RMJ operatives in their black SUV and they turned around—presumably heading back to finish their work on the camera.
Turning on the lights and siren, Travis waited for the RV's driver to pull over. They didn't. Instead, the old vehicle accelerated.
Inching the truck forward, he grazed the grille against the RV's rear bumper.
"What are you doing?" Cassidy screamed over the roaring engine. "My daughter could be in that RV."
Travis tightened his jaw. He should've left her in the office if she planned to question every decision he made. "I'm making sure that RV doesn't get away." Travis tapped the bumper again. The RV started to spin. It jostled over the shoulder, kicking up a cloud of dust as it came to a stop more than a dozen yards from the road.
Travis had managed to disable the RV. But was there more to this than a lone vehicle? Or had he just stumbled into a Los Diablos ambush?
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