Down & Out: Desert Winds, #1

By Marcy G. Dyer

Going home again can be deadly. 

Suddenly jobless, enterprising Candace Downs returns to the parched and dusty oil-town of Odessa, Texas as a trainee for her cousin's towing company. 

Rejecting the romantic obsessions of a maniacal stranger intent on capturing her heart throws her life into a terrifying spiral downward. 

As the clock ticks, and her hunter ups the ante, the charismatic, handsome security consultant, Josiah Bradley, is determined to keep her alive – at any cost. 

Will they win this harrowing cat-and-mouse game? Or will the unrelenting stalker bury them both deep in the desert? C

• Language: English
• Publisher: Marcy G. Dyer
• Release date: Nov 19, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386827825

Marcy G. Dyer

About the Author Marcy G. Dyer is a retired Registered Nurse and suspense/thriller/mystery author. Like so many other writers, she began writing at a very young age, but never took herself seriously as a "real" writer until about ten years ago when she began taking courses and learning the craft of writing. She has had books on the an online retailer’s Best Seller’s list and New Books to Watch list. Marcy is an alumnus of the Christian Writer's Guild and long-time member of American Christian Fiction Writers and a member of EPIC. She hosts a small critique group for ACFW and is involved in two other critique groups. For anyone seriously interested in becoming an author, she recommends a strong, diverse critique group to help authors hone crafts. She has also been a judge for the Grace Awards and Olympia contests and various ACFW contests. She can be found at http://www.marcydyer.com and http://www.facebook.com/marcydyer

Book preview

Down and Out

By

Marcy G. Dyer

Published by Roller Coaster Suspense

Copyright 2nd Edition by Marcy G. Dyer 2018

1st Edition Editor: Janet Butler

Publish Date: 2018

Cover Artist: Gwen Phifer

Cover Art Copyright by Gwen Phifer © 2013

All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording or by any information retrieval and storage system without permission of the publisher.

Ebooks are not transferrable, either in whole or in part. As the purchaser or otherwise lawful recipient of this ebook, you have the right to enjoy the novel on your own computer or other device. Further distribution, copying, sharing, gifting or uploading is illegal and violates United States Copyright laws.

Pirating of ebooks is illegal. Criminal Copyright Infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, may be investigated by the Federal Bureau of Investigation and is punishable by up to five years in federal prison and a fine of up to $250,000.

Names, characters, and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination, or are used in a fictitious situation. Any resemblances to actual events, locations, organizations, incidents or persons – living or dead – are coincidental and beyond the intent of the author.

Dedication

Ephesians 3:20-21 Now to Him who is able to do far more abundantly than all we ask or think, according to the power at work within us, to Him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen.

Thanks be to my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Without Him, I can do nothing.

This book is dedicated to my mother who went to be with the Lord several years ago, but she always pushed me to write - and to my father who continues to spur me on.

Thank you to the love of my life and my best friend, Dennis Dyer, who encourages, supports, and stands by me in whatever I may try.

And to Eric Dyer - my biggest cheerleader and light of my life.

I would also like to thank my extended family. They never cease to encourage and love me.

Table of Contents

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

About Marcy G. Dyer

Other Books by Marcy G. Dyer

Chapter One

CANDACE CLIMBED OUT of the rattletrap old VW Bug. The car had faded to a pinkish orange, the floorboards had rust holes peeking up at her, and the seat covers had long ago cracked with foam poking through, but the engine ran thanks to Ric. What would she do without him?

She fingered the small diamond necklace her dad had given her when she moved to New York. Would she ever get her life straight? A sigh escaped her lips. No time to dwell on that now. Her new illustrious career waited.

Sucking in a breath, she strode through the side door at Tow Masters. The round black clock on the dingy white wall indicated it was ten till seven. The front room was empty. Where was her cousin? If Carl had to left her to figure this out on his own, she’d get him the next time she saw him.

She walked into Carl's office and stopped in her tracks. A man who looked like modeled western clothes sat behind the old gray metal desk. Uh you aren't my cousin.

The cowboy grinned. No, ma'am. He stood and extended his hand. I'm Josiah Bradley. You must be Candace.

She stared at the man. He stood several inches taller than she did, and she had to look up to see him. Not something she often did even when she wasn't wearing heels. Blond hair peeked out from his white cowboy hat. His eyes, the color of the Texas sky, twinkled. She'd missed seeing cowboys when she lived in New York. Something about a handsome man in a western hat and tight Wranglers.

After a few seconds, she glanced down at his hand still in hers. Great, the guy would think she was a loon. She let go of his hand. Uh. Sorry. I. . .I expected Carl to be here.

Carl contracts with our company to provide security, and when he hires a newbie, he usually has one of us spend a couple of weeks working with ‘em. Safer than having his staff pull doubles.

Oh. Could she sound any less like a dork?

His eyes roved over her from top to bottom, making her thankful she wore the black skirt and heels. After a few seconds, Josiah shook his head. Excuse me, ma’am but you’ve never worked in this business, have you?

No. Why?

Well, I don’t think you want to wear that outfit.

Her cheeks burned. What should I wear?

Jeans, t-shirt and tennis shoes, or boots.

Ahem. Excuse me.

Candace turned to find a short, chubby, woman with fiery red hair standing behind her. The woman shoved her hands on her ample hips and shook her head. Great. I’ve gotta call Carl. He can’t stick me with the dark-haired Barbie here and expect this to work out.

Josiah rounded the desk and placed a hand on the woman’s shoulder. Beth Anne, give her a chance. She’s never worked for a towing company before.

Humph.

In his Wranglers, boots and oxford shirt, he looked like he’d be more at home on the rodeo circuit than anywhere else. Either that or on-stage crooning out an old country song.

Nausea rolled through Candace’s gut. Why did she think she could do this job? She didn’t even have a clue how to dress. Carl should’ve warned her.

Why don’t you run home and change into some jeans and then come back, and we’ll get started. Josiah said.

Candace’s cheeks flamed. I. . .I don’t have any jeans.

Beth Anne rolled her eyes. So, Barbie, just what kind of clothes do you have?

Please stop calling me that. I have dresses and heels. No way was she telling this witch that she’d had to reduce her entire life to one suitcase, so she'd kept what she thought of as work clothes, a couple of pairs of old sweats, and one pair of jeans that she needed to wear heals with.

Josiah struggled to stifle a laugh, and she clenched her hands together. Would these two make fun of her the entire two weeks of her training? What do you wear in your leisure time?

I haven’t had leisure time in over two years. I was a publicist. When I wasn’t working, I was sleeping.

It’s okay. I’ll take her to get some appropriate clothes, and we’ll return soon.

Fine. Just don’t take too long. I don’t want to get stuck working by myself tonight.

You’ve got my cell number, if you get a job, call me.

Beth Anne spun on her heel. Whatever.

Josiah thought she was too dumb to buy her own clothes, and Beth Anne. . .Beth Anne already hated her. She blinked back the tears stinging her eyes.

Josiah led the way to his black Ford dually, opened the door, and helped her inside. She settled into the leather seats. How would she pay for new clothes? If she charged them, would the bill come in before she got paid? All of the money she had in savings went to pay for the piece of junk car and her miniscule apartment.

She stared out the window trying to figure out how to pay for clothes when her card was almost maxed out. Breathe. She took several deep breaths and prayed. If God didn’t help her, this handsome man would see what a train wreck she was.

When they arrived at a small western store, Candace’s heart plummeted. She’d never be able to afford clothes in a place like this. How could she tell Josiah that she needed to go to Wal-Mart without sounding like a whiney girl?

Josiah grinned. Hope you don’t mind, but since you’re back in Texas, you need to look the part.

Uh. . .Wal-Mart is more my price range.

Don’t worry about the money. Can’t have my best friend’s cousin looking so outta place. Now, can I? He laughed. "Besides, I’ll put it on Carl’s tab. It’s his responsibility to make sure new employees know what to wear.

Buying clothes with a strange man felt wrong, but what choice did she have?

Once inside a teeny, perky, blonde flashed a big smile at Josiah. Hey Jo. How can I help you?

He put a hand on Candace’s shoulder. My friend here just moved back from New York City. We need to get her some real clothes, boots, hat, and tennis shoes.

Sure thing. She took a quick look up and down Candace. What size?

I’m not sure. No way would she tell this cute little pixie how big her behind was. Not in front of Josiah.

No worries. Come with me, and we’ll see what we can find.

By the time they left the store, Candace had several bags of clothes. Where in the world would she ever wear a cowboy hat?

They arrived back at the shop and she changed into jeans, a tee, and tennis shoes. Beth Anne glared. Well at least now you can work. She turned to Josiah. You and Barbie come on. We’ve got a tip on that repo from the gang banger. Beth Anne pulled a holstered gun out of her purse and stuck it into her jeans.

A gang-banger and guns? What had she gotten herself into?

AS THEY CLIMBED INTO the flatbed truck, Josiah chuckled. The girls would give him a laugh or two over the next couple of weeks. Just seeing the look in Candace's brown eyes when she had to put on the jeans was worth every penny he spent. He might eat the cost of the clothes for the entertainment factor. Why had Carl hired such a girly-girl?

Her thick black hair and curvaceous figure sure made her nice to look at, but he pitied any man who got mixed up with her. He couldn’t imagine living in New York and going to Broadway openings, galas, and things that required tuxedos and long hours in the night life. Maybe some men liked that, but not him. A night at home with his horses and dog fit his lifestyle much better.

They pulled up in front of a dilapidated house with peeling paint. An old sofa with stuffing peeking out of multiple holes sat on the porch with a mangy mutt lounging on it.

A crack house? Josiah maneuvered the truck in front of the SUV up for repo. Beth Anne hopped out and checked the VIN. Lower it and I'll start the hook-up. We gotta grab it and run. Candace followed Beth Anne.

Josiah tilted the flatbed and helped the girls hook the SUV up. As he lowered the bed back down, a young Hispanic man came running toward them.

A stream of colorful names for Josiah flowed out of his mouth. "Ese´, what do you think you're doing? He screamed another stream of curse words. That's my ride."

Josiah pulled a clipboard out of the truck. Who are you?

I'm Roach. El Jefe. He thumped his chest. The man wore a blue bandana tied around his head, a white, skin-tight, white tank top, and his pants sagged so low his entire silk-boxer-clad rear hung out. Talk about a stereotype.

"El Jefe, is your name Ramon Gabaldon?"

"Si, this is my ride, man. If you want to live, you'll put her back. Gabaldon’s eyes narrowed to slits. One word and my posse will take you down, ese´."

I have a repossession order from your lien holder. Josiah pulled a copy of the order off the clipboard and handed it to him. If you settle things up with them, then once they notify us, you can pick up your vehicle at the yard.

No. I don't think you understand. Roach flipped out a switchblade and flicked it open. You're going to leave my ride alone.

Josiah pulled out his Glock and leveled it at the man's head. "No, Jefe, you don't understand. I'm taking the Escalade, and you're going to back off."

Roach laughed but retracted the blade up and took a step back. Josiah jumped into the truck, and slammed it in gear as Roach yelled for his gang. What was Carl thinking hiring his cousin? From the look on Candace's face, she was about to vomit.

I'm afraid we have trouble. Josiah glanced into the rearview mirror. They're following us.

One of the gang members roared up to the passenger side on a decked out Harley and pointed a pistol at the window. Josiah grabbed Candace’s shoulder and pushed as he swerved toward the man. Get down.

She slid into the floorboard, and he gunned the engine. The big truck would be no match for men on bikes.

Just keep driving, I'll call 911. Beth Anne yelled from the back.

He moved lane to lane as quickly as he could without wrecking the truck and ran a couple of the guys off the road. As they pulled into the tow yard, several gang members roared up and surrounded the truck.

A gunshot rang out.

Great. Barbie just tossed her cookies. Beth Anne sighed.

I'm sorry if I don't live up to your standards, Dumpling, she snapped. I've never had anyone shoot at me.

Dumpling? You little—

Enough, you two. Quit acting like spoiled junior-high girls. If you haven't realized it, we're in a mess here.

Thank goodness we're in the truck. If they don't shoot the windows, we should be okay. Right?

Josiah barked out a short laugh. Don't know much ‘bout guns, do ya, doll?

Not really. I know gun safety, and I'm a good shot, but that's it.

A bullet can go through the metal of the door. Beth Ann's tone grew snarkier with each word. It may or may not have enough force to come all the way inside and impale your precious body depending upon the caliber. There's your education for today, Barbie.

Thanks for nothing, Dumpling.

Sirens sounded in the distance. Josiah’s grip tightened on the wheel. If the police didn’t hurry, he’d have to run over some of the guys in front of them, or they’d all die.

Chapter Two

AFTER WHAT SEEMED LIKE a couple of years, Josiah pulled the rest of the way into the tow yard and climbed out of the truck. They're gone. Must've heard the sirens.

Candace’s hands shook as she pushed her hair out of her eyes. Why had she taken this job? She didn't need to eat. Maybe if she had to do without food for a while she could fit into smaller jeans like the pixie at the western store wore.

She clenched her jaw and climbed out of the truck, but her rubber-band legs didn't hold her up, and she landed with a thud on her bottom.

Josiah reached out a hand to help her.

Barbie, forget how to walk? Beth Anne glared at her, hands on hips.

That's it, Dumpling. I'm sick and tired of your attitude. Candace lunged at Beth Anne, grabbed her shirt, and knocked her to the ground. They punched, kicked, and pulled each other’s hair, until someone lifted her off Beth Anne. She glanced up expecting to see Josiah, but instead, a police officer scowled at her.

He slapped handcuffs on her wrists. You need to calm down.

I'm calm. Candace jerked her head around to look at him. I'm sorry. It won't—

Cool your jets in here for a while. He shoved her into the back of a cruiser. Her heart thudded in her ears. She'd never been arrested. Her mother would kill her. Maybe she could ask Ric to bail her so her family wouldn’t know.

She glanced up when the other door to the cruiser opened, and a different officer shoved Beth Anne in beside her. He’d cuffed Beth Anne's hands, too.

Candace took a deep breath. This stinks. I'm sorry I lost my temper.

You know, you're quite a scrapper.

I've been in a fight or two.

Beth Anne grinned Truce?

Truce.

I'd shake your hand, but under the circumstances....

Candace broke out into laughter, and before long, Beth Anne joined her. The car doors opened, and Josiah stared in at both women. He nodded toward them with his head. Sounds like a couple of hyenas.

One of the officers chuckled. Should I take them in for unladylike conduct?

Sounds good to me.

Candace narrowed her eyes. If you let them take me to jail, you'll have to clean up the vomit in the truck and explain to Carl how you couldn't even control two women. He won't be happy to know his entire night shift has been arrested.

Josiah's eyebrow shot up. Blackmail? Hmmm.

The officers helped the women out of the cruiser and removed the handcuffs. The officer whose nametag read Green, glared at them. Don't let this happen again. I'll take both of you to jail.

After the officers left, Candace cleaned up the truck seat and sprayed fabric cleaner over