Protective Custody

by Debra Webb

  Fury flashed in his eyes, devouring all signs of desire. He jerked against his restraint. “Give me the key,” he said in a tone just shy of lethal.

  Nicole flipped her hair over her shoulders. “All right, all right. Don’t get all bent out of shape, Ian, it was just a thought. I’ll find the key.” Nicole climbed off the bed. Her heart pounding so hard she felt certain he could hear it, she knelt by the box and dug for the key. When she had it in her hands, she shoved the container, Ian’s gun still in it, beneath the bed. She stood quickly, and took two steps back.

  Ian sat up straighter in the bed. He shook his head slowly from side to side. Nicole felt certain that she had never seen, nor would she ever again see, a look quite that dark, that intent. She swallowed. Ian just might not forgive her for this. Just one more thing for him to hold against her. But she had to do it.

  She backed all the way to the dining table. “I’ll leave the key right here,” she told him with as much bravado as possible. “I’m doing the right thing, Ian,” she said when he didn’t respond. “It’s the only way. Nicole jerked on a pair of jeans and the discarded shirt as swiftly as possible, her gaze darting back to Ian every few seconds. He said nothing, he simply stared at her with a kind of disappointment and disapproval that stabbed at her heart. She tugged on her socks and boots, and made quick work of tying them. Nicole tucked her Beretta into her waistband at the small of her back and shouldered into her denim jacket. She snatched up the keys to the Range Rover and turned back to Ian. He hadn’t said a word.

  “It’ll be better if I do this alone,” she told him. “He’s not going to approach me as long as you’re around.” Nicole closed her eyes for a moment to dispel the image of him sprawled across the bed, almost naked, and completely at her mercy. Finally, she opened her eyes and faced the inevitable. “I’m sorry,” she stammered. “It’s the only way.” Nicole whirled and rushed toward the door.

  “Nicole.”

  She turned around slowly, reluctantly. She winced inside when she met the arctic chill in his eyes. She lifted her chin and held that icy gaze. “Yeah?” she asked.

  “It will take me approximately fifteen minutes to dismantle this bed, drag the headboard across the room and reach the key.” His tone was stone-cold. “Five minutes after that I’ll be out the door. I’ll find you within twenty-four hours, and then,” he paused, giving her time to absorb the impact of his words, “you will regret this.”

  Nicole grabbed her purse and rushed out the door without looking back. She had twenty minutes. She climbed behind the wheel of the SUV and started the engine. She had to get out of here.

  Ian Michaels never made idle threats.

  Chapter Nine

  Removing the first rail from the headboard proved the most awkward. Once that was accomplished, the rest was easy. Ian pushed the mattress and box spring away from the headboard as far as he could with the other rail still in place. A couple of minutes later the headboard was completely disconnected from the rest of the bed. He didn’t take time to analyze the fact that he had once again permitted Nicole to get the upper hand while he was lost in the lust he should never have allowed in the first place. He could kick himself for that later. Right now he had to catch up with Nicole. He clenched his jaw to hold back the string of curses poised on the tip of his tongue. That would do no good, he didn’t have time to waste stewing over his mistake.

  He had to find Nicole.

  Before anyone else did.

  Ian snatched the key to the handcuffs off the table and liberated his hand from the brass spindle. He tossed the key onto the table and shook his head at his own gullibility. He was a first-class fool. And now Nicole was in danger and she was too damned hardheaded to see her error. His fury growing with each step, Ian carried the headboard back to the bed and pitched it, rattling handcuff and all, onto the mattress. If George dropped by unexpectedly this evening, he probably wouldn’t be too pleased about the mess. Nicole could explain the circumstances to him…

  If she didn’t get herself killed first.

  Ian jerked on his jeans, adjusted the throbbing arousal she’d left him with, then pulled on his sweater. Her scent lingered on his skin, making him ache for her all the more. Gritting his teeth against the desire still humming in his body, he fished his gun from beneath the crippled bed. He tugged on his hiking boots and quickly laced them. Combing the fingers of his right hand through his hair, he glanced at his watch. Fifteen minutes. A hint of a smile twitched his lips. Five minutes earlier than he had anticipated. Ian pulled on his jacket on his way out the door. It was nearing dusk now. The sky was clear and the moon was full, that was good. If he hurried and maintained a steady pace, he would reach town in an hour, an hour and fifteen minutes tops. He needed a telephone. His cell phone was in Nicole’s bag. Another mistake. He never suffered those kinds of lapses in judgment.

  Only with Nicole.

  When he reached town, it would take only one call to Alex and Nicole wouldn’t get far in the SUV. The state police would stop her before she got across the line. But, knowing Nicole, Ian thought ruefully as he jogged down the driveway and out onto the paved road, she would dump the SUV somewhere in town and rent—or borrow—another vehicle to make her escape clean.

  The thought that she might not make it into town tightened the knot of dread growing in his gut. If they were being watched as Ian suspected, the predator would already be tailing his prey, moving in for the kill.

  Unfortunately, that was exactly what Nicole wanted. She intended to force the issue—force a confrontation. And to keep him out of it. Ian swore as he scanned the darkness falling swiftly around him, then the low-hung moon.

  He hoped he wasn’t too late already.

  NICOLE DROVE as fast as she dared down the curvy mountain road. A plan had already formed in her mind. She would ditch the SUV near the sporting goods store and check into a room at the lodge where George was staying. Ian would think she had hitched a ride out of town. To increase the odds in her favor, maybe Nicole would give George a call and tell him that she had found a ride back to Charlottesville and that she intended to fly back to D.C. Ian would no doubt contact George the moment he made it into town. That little ploy would throw Ian off track and keep him busy for a few hours at least. In the meantime, Nicole would hang out in the local diner or the pub and see if she could attract herself a guy with a dynamite personality.

  The vehicle suddenly jerked as if the engine might die. Nicole frowned and quickly checked the gauges. All registered normal—except the gas gauge.

  Empty.

  Nicole swore under her breath.

  Another jerk, sputter, and the engine died completely. The steeply inclining road was all that kept the vehicle moving then. Nicole wrestled with the steering wheel until she had navigated the next curve and could pull the SUV off the road onto a stretch of narrow shoulder that looked the least treacherous.

  “Damn,” she muttered shakily. She needed to get a grip here. She forced the image of Ian and his final words out of her mind. Nicole tried the ignition again, just in case the gauge was wrong. It wouldn’t start. She banged her fist against the steering wheel and surveyed the dense woods on either side of her. Several more miles of deserted road cut through the terrain before her, curving like a snake between the thick woods and flowing ever downward. This was a hell of a mess, she mused with a disgusted huff of resignation. Her fail-safe plan hadn’t been so safe after all. Ian would laugh his head off when he found her stranded halfway down the mountain. Well, he might laugh after he had finished with her. Revenge would be his first order of business. Why hadn’t she noticed the gauges when she started the damned vehicle in the first place? When had they got fuel last? Not since that first day, she remembered. Ian had filled the tank the day they arrived in Town Creek. But they hadn’t gone anywhere, except into town that once. Surely they hadn’t used an entire tank….

  The tiny hairs on the back of Nicole’s neck suddenly stood on end. They definitely had not used that
much gas. No way. She surveyed her seemingly deserted surroundings once more.

  He was here.

  If not in the immediate vicinity, nearby. Anticipation mushroomed inside her, making her heart beat faster. She had to get out of the open. Nicole slammed the side of her fist hard against the dome light to break the bulb, then opened the car door. She emerged from the vehicle slowly, her gaze scanning constantly. She closed the door behind her with one hip. The burn of adrenaline heightened her senses, made her more alert. It was almost completely dark now, except for the brilliant moon that hung just over the treetops.

  The way Nicole saw it, she had two options. She could head back toward the cabin and risk leading the bad guy right to Ian, not to mention she would likely meet Ian on his way down. Nicole shook her head at that thought. Ian was supremely annoyed. She definitely didn’t want to see him again until he’d had some time to cool off—maybe not even in this century. On the other hand, she could head into town.

  Town, she decided when the vivid mental picture of Ian’s furious gaze flashed through her mind. Besides, she wanted the man in the navy blue jacket whose movements tripped some sort of vague memory for her. She wanted him badly. She wanted him to pay for what he had done.

  Nicole adjusted the weapon at the small of her back and turned herself in the direction of town. What was five or six miles? she mused. For cover, Nicole decided to walk along the edge of the woods. No point in making herself an easy target. If Ian’s theory was true, she would be safe until she gave up Solomon’s location, but why take the risk?

  She jumped across the narrow, sloping ditch and started for the woods, but a sound behind Nicole froze her in her tracks. She whirled around, instinctively going for her weapon, drawing it, and assuming a fire-ready stance. Another burst of adrenaline shot through her. Nicole strained to make out the dark figure standing near the passenger side of the SUV. In some recess of her brain she reminded herself she hadn’t gained the woods just yet, leaving her almost as open a target as the guy standing on the side of the road.

  Almost…

  …but not quite. The outline of the trees still shadowed her presence.

  “Take one more step and you’re a dead man,” Nicole warned in a loud, firm voice.

  “You can’t kill a man who’s already dead, Agent Reed.”

  An eerie stillness fell over Nicole. That voice. Her heart froze in her chest, but somehow continued to beat, pushing pure ice through her veins. It couldn’t be. Her mouth opened, worked, but the words she needed would not form on her tongue.

  Daniels.

  “A little slow on the uptake on this one, huh, Reed?” He moved closer, out of the concealing blackness of the SUV.

  “Forensics was conclusive,” she heard herself say in a tone so emotionless, so dead calm she barely recognized it as her own.

  He laughed, a dry, humorless sound that grated along her nerve endings. “What’s one more missing John Doe body? It won’t be the first time we’ve borrowed something no one will ever miss, right, Agent Reed?”

  The memory of the conversation she’d had with Ian on this very subject back in her D.C. apartment echoed through her stunned mind. Of course, forensics would be muddled in a case like Daniels’s, there was hardly anything left to identify. Hadn’t Daniels done the very same thing in Solomon’s case? Landon had given the order, Nicole and Daniels had simply carried it out…to the letter.

  “Sorry about your apartment,” he offered contritely as he took another step down the steep bank. “But you didn’t leave me much choice. I had to turn up the heat to prod you into action. But then you came here and holed up with lover boy. I need Solomon, Nicole.”

  His words snapped Nicole from her disturbing reverie. “What do you want with Solomon?” she demanded, easing back a step. She maintained a steady bead on Daniels. She had to keep reminding herself that this was real. Daniels was alive and the man was trying to get to Solomon—through her.

  Another of those cynical laughs shattered the otherwise silence. “Let’s just say he has something I want. That’s all you need to know.”

  Ire flowed through Nicole at the implication of his statement. “I can’t believe you would stoop to working for the cartel, Daniels. Which one of the scumbags hired you?” she ground out. “Did they pay you extra for taking Landon out, or did you do that one just for the fun of blowing someone up?”

  Another couple of feet of tall grass disappeared between them. “Who said anything about the cartel?” Daniels smiled, a sinister gesture that made Nicole shudder inside. “Oh, I see.” He ran a hand over his balding head, then down to massage his chin as he studied her with those beady black eyes. “Don’t worry, Nicole, you’ll be pleased to know that this has nothing at all to do with the cartel.”

  That habitual movement—stroking his chin. That was part of the mannerism that had caught Nicole’s attention in town the day before. Though he’d had his back turned, some small part of her had recognized his body language.

  A new kind of calm settled over Nicole as all the pieces fell into place. Daniels knew everything—except the final location of Solomon. He had access to her every move, to Landon. He was one of the best explosives experts in the country. He knew all the tricks of the trade. Cloak-and-dagger games were his favorite kind, she remembered as he moved closer still.

  “Stop right there, Daniels,” she commanded, warning bells going off inside her head. He was too close. She needed to think. There was no way she was letting Daniels get away with this. No way. But could she shoot a fellow agent, rogue or not, without him drawing his weapon? She tightened her grip on the Beretta and leveled her gaze firmly on his. “I’m taking you in,” she told him bluntly. The blood was pounding in her ears, urging the adrenaline through her veins.

  Daniels reached behind him and drew his own weapon. The oxygen evaporated in Nicole’s lungs. Her finger snugged against the trigger of her weapon. The desire to fire now was a palpable force pounding away at her consciousness. Nicole gritted her teeth against it, resisted the urge. If she killed Daniels now and Ian was right about there being someone else working with him, Nicole might never be completely safe again. Solomon sure as hell wouldn’t be. And justice would never be served.

  “All I want is Solomon, nothing else,” Daniels assured her, holding his palms up in a magnanimous manner. His weapon hung loosely from the fingertips of his right hand in a non-threatening manner, as if he had no intention at all of using it.

  Nicole licked her lips and retreated a few more inches. “What does Solomon have that you want?” Daniels wanted something big. Big enough to make him throw away his career at the bureau only five years from his pension, not to mention his complete identity since he was considered dead. She vaguely remembered someone commenting after his supposed death that he’d never been married, had no children. There had been no one left to ask questions, or even to grieve. He had nothing to lose, Nicole realized. Alarm slid down her spine. And everything to gain. Solomon had been the cartel’s accountant, which meant he handled their money. He could have even stashed some away for his own future use. He had to know that WITSEC wouldn’t support him forever. A little here, a little there, and pretty soon he would have accumulated himself a really nice nest egg. Unless or until he got caught, then he would end up dead.

  Or under WITSEC’s umbrella in the witness protection program.

  Daniels smiled as if he knew Nicole had just realized his motivation. “Enough of the small talk,” he announced impatiently. “Let’s go, Nicole. My car is only a hundred or so yards back up the road.”

  Nicole laughed, a choked sound. “I’m not going anywhere with you, you bastard.” She moved back another half step.

  Daniels shrugged, his weapon still dangling from his fingertips. “Fine. I guess I’ll just have to go back and get what I want out of lover boy.”

  Nicole tensed. Had Daniels gone into the cabin immediately after she had left to find Ian still helpless and unarmed? Before Nicole could shake of
f the horrifying possibility, Daniels charged at her. He knocked the Beretta from her hand, then slammed into Nicole with the full force of his heavy body. They rolled, Nicole kicked him hard in the shin while struggling to keep the barrel of his weapon away from her. His hot curses shattered the dark silence around them, his strong fingers went around her neck. Panic shot through Nicole but her instinct for survival was greater, she kneed Daniels hard in the groin, then pushed him off her. She scrambled, half crawling, half running in the direction of where her weapon had hit the ground. Daniels was still howling, trying to stagger to his feet. Nicole grabbed her weapon from the grass, rolled to her back and fired. If she killed the son of a bitch, so be it. Daniels hit the dirt low, crawling for cover of his own.

  “Come back here, you bitch!” he screamed.

  Nicole scrambled to her feet and lunged into the concealing woods before Daniels could get a good bead on her. A shot fired over her head. Damn. She moved faster, more deeply into the woods. She rushed up the steady grade of the mountain, tripping over exposed roots and fallen branches. Underbrush grabbed at her clothing and scratched at her face like gnarled, bony fingers. The steep incline fought her, but Nicole pressed on. She had to get as much distance as possible between the two of them. She forced the images of Landon’s dead body, his grieving widow, from her mind. Daniels had done that. Nicole encouraged the anger, allowed it to diminish the lesser emotions clawing at her consciousness. She had to run fast. If Daniels caught her, she would be dead as soon as he extracted Solomon’s location from her. Though she was prepared to die before giving up the information, there were ways to break even the toughest and most highly trained agent.

  The covering of decay on the forest floor sank here and there beneath her scrambling feet, yanking her back precious inches instead of giving her purchase to propel herself forward. Fear and frustration swelled in her throat, choking her, but Nicole ignored it. Faster and faster she climbed, stumbling forward occasionally on the rugged, steep terrain. Nicole moved faster, the instinct for survival kicking into high gear. She was much younger than Daniels, more physically fit. Daniels called out to her twice before going silent. Her breath raging in and out of her lungs, Nicole dived behind a large boulder and flattened herself against its surface. She listened above the sound of her ragged breathing.