To Jason’s surprise, Lucy lifted her chin and met the other man’s gaze directly. “I’m not running,” she said simply. “So before you crawl back under whatever rock you came out from, you should know that goodness always prevails.”
This made the intruder laugh out loud. “Not always, pretty lady. Such naivety will get you killed.”
“Which is why I’m here to protect her,” Jason declared, mildly annoyed that he’d let the other man rile him. Even if protecting her meant that Lucy had to stay hidden for a little longer, an idea which he despised.
Why? Holding her close, he realized part of the reason he hated having to keep her hidden was that he wanted to show her off to the world. As his. He wanted to take her into town and walk into Gertie’s with Lucy on his arm. He wanted to go grocery shopping with her, buy flowers at the florist for her, and let everyone in Cedar know that she and he were a couple.
A couple. It had been a long, long time since he’d cared enough about a woman to want more than a casual relationship. Lucy/Abby made him want much more than that. He could even picture himself spending the rest of his life with her, which shocked the tar out of him.
Pretty sappy, he supposed. Especially since he had no idea if she even felt the same way. But truth. In a relatively short period of time, he’d fallen for her. He couldn’t even really ask how she felt until he knew her memory had returned 100 percent.
Still, he continued to hold her close to his side, with his pistol trained on the captive man who’d once again fallen into a doze.
A roar of a snowmobile engine alerted him to the sheriff’s arrival. Eyes wide, Lucy took herself off to the bedroom, closing the door with a decisive click. A second snowmobile followed the first. There were three officers in total, including the sheriff, all to take custody of the one prisoner.
Backing toward the door as soon as he heard boots hit his porch, Jason immediately holstered his pistol, aware he didn’t need to add to an already-tense situation.
Once they were inside, Sheriff Jeffords took Jason’s statement while his men cuffed the prisoner. His prominent jaw tightened as he listened to Jason’s account, from the first sound of the snowmobile to the shot grazing Jason’s thigh. Jason carefully omitted any mention of Lucy, not sure what he’d do if the intruder brought her up.
The captive sat stone-faced through all of that, staring straight ahead and avoiding eye contact with anyone. He shifted his weight a little when one of the deputies cut off the crude rope tie Jason had used. The metal handcuffs were definitely a lot more secure.
A quick pat-down revealed a switchblade knife, which was bagged for evidence. “No wallet or ID,” the deputy announced.
“His weapon is over there.” Jason pointed to where he’d kicked the other pistol.
Using gloves and a plastic baggie, another deputy retrieved the gun.
“We’ll have to hold him until the judge gets back in town,” Sheriff Jeffords drawled.
“That’s good,” Jason replied. “Especially since he told me once he got out, he’d come back and finish the job.”
“Damn.” The sheriff gave the other man a squint-eyed look that had made many a man quake in his boots. This guy didn’t even react.
“What’s your name, son?” Sheriff Jeffords asked.
Instead of answering, the stranger continued to stare straight ahead, which made the sheriff sigh.
“You know we’re going to fingerprint you once we’re back at the station.”
Still no reaction.
“Let’s get him loaded up, boys.” Zipping up his jacket, Sheriff Jeffords turned to Jason. “I’ll keep you posted.”
“Please do.”
With two men flanking him, one on each side, the intruder managed to struggle up to his feet. Judging by the way he leaned slightly to one side, Jason realized he’d been hurt.
He pointed this out to the sheriff.
“Hang on to him,” the sheriff told his men. He pulled up the intruder’s shirt. A huge purplish bruise decorated the prisoner’s right abdomen. “He’ll live,” Jeffords declared. “We’ll have one of the EMTs take a look at that when we’re back in town.” He gestured toward the door and the deputies began to move the three of them forward.
Right when they reached the doorway, the prisoner dug in his heels. He glanced back at Jason over his shoulder, one side of his mouth lifted in a smirk.
“What about the woman?” he asked, deliberately looking toward the closed bedroom door. “Are you all going to protect her too?”
And then the deputies prodded him outside. Jason followed, refusing, at least yet, to acknowledge the bombshell the intruder had let drop. Part of him hoped against hope that the sheriff wouldn’t comment on it, but he knew better.
Watching as they loaded the man onto a sled-like trailer and then secured his ankles, Jason stiffened when the sheriff came and joined him on the front porch. Side by side, they stood eying the others.
As his men and the prisoner drove away, Sheriff Jeffords turned to Jason. “You know how people in town talk. Should I ask?”
Chapter 14
When the door handle turned and the bedroom door opened, Lucy took a step back. She almost took a flying leap into the closet, mainly because she hadn’t heard the second snowmobile start up. Which meant the sheriff or one of his men was still there.
When Jason appeared in the doorway, she caught her breath in relief. “I thought...” she began.
“It’s OK.” He held out his hand. “I told the sheriff about you. Actually, the intruder did.”
Her stomach sinking, she searched his gaze. “Do you trust him?”
“I do. Come out and help me explain to him what we know.”
Nodding at this, she took his hand. “If you’re sure.”
“I am.”
The sheriff waited in the living room. A tall lean man with a close-trimmed head of white hair and a weathered face, he took off his ski cap when he saw her. After Jason performed the introductions, calling her Lucy instead of her real name, the sheriff shook her hand. His grasp felt firm, but not overly so. She remembered she’d always put a lot of stake on a man’s handshake. She’d especially hated the limp, weak ones that seemed as if the man was afraid he’d break her hand.
“You look familiar,” the sheriff said. “Where have I seen you before?” He took a moment, and then snapped his fingers. “On TV. I’ve seen you on television. Are you a reporter?”
“No,” she replied softly. “I’m not. My name is actually Abby. Abby Tomblin. Though Jason calls me Lucy, which is fine.” She couldn’t help but notice the way Jason’s jaw tightened, and she hoped she hadn’t somehow hurt him. In fact, she hadn’t actually known her last name until that exact moment.
Though his brow furrowed in concentration, the sheriff finally shrugged. “Doesn’t sound familiar. I guess I was mistaken.”
“I guess so,” Jason interjected, shooting her a quick warning look. “She’s got quite a story to tell, but only if she feels comfortable doing so.”
She grimaced, torn.
“It’s OK.” Jason put his arm around her and pulled her close. “You can trust him.”
Though she nodded, she still felt conflicted. Instead of pressuring her, both men waited silently for her to reach her own decision. As she studied the grizzled face of the sheriff, the compassion and kindness she saw in his dark brown eyes helped her.
“I was in Kabul with Russell Stovall,” she said simply.
“The vice president’s son?” Sheriff Jeffords’s white brows rose.
Beside her, Jason stiffened with surprise. Slowly, Abby nodded. “I just remembered,” she told Jason. “It’s really weird, but a lot of things have come back to me, piece by piece.”
He nodded, keeping his arm around her. “Are you overwhelmed?” he asked, his voice gentle.
Though t
he tenderness in Jason’s gaze made her melt, she straightened her shoulders instead and shook her head. “Maybe we all better sit down. Sheriff, if you want to hear my story, this is going to take a while.”
Once they were all seated, she and Jason on the couch and the sheriff in the armchair, she started talking. Through it all, Jason stayed close, holding her hand.
When she’d finally finished, she exhaled and sat quietly, waiting. Some of what she’d said had been recently remembered and she hadn’t had time to tell Jason yet, so it was news to him also.
“Wow,” the sheriff finally commented. “You’ve been through hell and back.” He directed his next question at Jason. “Why the hell were you keeping this hidden from me?”
Jason shrugged. “We were being careful. And since Lucy, I mean Abby, didn’t have her memory back, we thought it best to keep to ourselves.”
“Well, I’m glad you filled me in,” Jeffords said. “First thing, I’m going to get in touch with NCIS. I’ve written down the name of the special agent who’s been contacting you. Mind letting me take a picture of that subpoena?”
“Not at all.” Pushing to his feet, Jason went into his room to retrieve it. When he returned, he smoothed the document out on the coffee table so the sheriff could take several snapshots with his phone.
Abby watched quietly, wondering if Jason would tell the sheriff the rest of the story involving his friend Rick. She had only mentioned Rick in passing, as the man who’d spirited her out of Afghanistan and to Colorado and safety.
But he didn’t bring him up. Instead, he cautioned Jeffords not to mention Abby in any talks with NCIS or anyone else. Jeffords agreed, as long as he wasn’t under oath.
Finally, the sheriff left. Once his snowmobile had roared away, Jason went into the kitchen and made them both hot chocolate.
“I didn’t bring up Rick because I can’t have Jeffords mentioning him to Special Agent Groesel,” he finally said, handing her a mug before heading toward the couch.
“How’d you know I was wondering that?” she asked, following and taking a seat beside him. “And thanks for the whipped cream on top.”
Her question made him laugh. “It’s written all over your face. You couldn’t decide whether or not to feel betrayed because you’d told Jeffords everything about you. Believe me, if Rick’s life wasn’t in danger, I wouldn’t hesitate. I trust our sheriff.”
She squirmed, her hip bumping his. “I mentioned his name, at least his first one when I told my story. I hope I didn’t put him in any danger.”
“No. Since I made sure that Jeffords understands not to mention you at all when he talks to NCIS, he has no reason to mention the name Rick. He’s a smart man.”
“I’ll have to take your word for it,” she said wryly, taking a sip of her cocoa. “The more my memory returns, the weirder my past seems.”
His expression went serious. Drinking deeply from his own mug, he watched her. “Tell me about you,” he asked.
She frowned at him. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“I’m guessing you’ve remembered almost everything, right?” At her nod, he continued, “Then tell me, before all this crazy stuff happened in Kabul, what did you do? I mean, you had a job, right? Hobbies, friends? Where did you live, and was it an apartment or a house, or maybe a modern condo?”
“Oh.” She blinked. “Nothing glamorous, I’m afraid. I live in DC and work for a luxury car dealership as a salesperson. I’m really good at it.” She let a hint of pride creep into her voice. “Though honestly, those vehicles tend to sell themselves. That’s where I met Russell. He came in to buy a new Maserati coupe. He ended up buying the one on the showroom floor. Paid full price, I guess to impress me.”
“Did it work?”
“No. I enjoy my job, but I’d prefer someone at least try to negotiate.”
“How long were you two together?”
She had to think about that for a moment. “Not long. Six or seven months. When his father decided to do a PR visit to the troops in Kabul and Russell invited me along, I almost didn’t go. I mean, who goes to the middle of a war zone?” She swallowed, remembering as a journalist, Jason did exactly that.
“What convinced you?”
“In retrospect, lies. Russell convinced me I’d be part of something good, beneficial to the military personnel stationed there.” Her mouth twisted. “In reality, the entire thing was planned as a quick photo op for the VP’s presidential campaign. We were supposed to be in and out, with just one evening as an overnight stay.”
“But then the bomb happened?” Jason supplied. “And Russell got caught abusing local women.”
“Right. Except in the reverse order. I don’t know how he found them, or how much he paid the man who brought them to that room for him. I do think they might have been expecting just sex, or something different.” Her unease had her gulping her cocoa. “I could tell they weren’t expecting the violence.”
She waited for him to ask another question about that night. The truth was, after finding Russell with the local women, he’d taken out his rage on her. She remembered the first part of the beating, but nothing after.
“In DC, what did you do for fun?” Jason asked instead. “I mean, surely you must have had some hobbies or something. Things you enjoyed doing in your spare time.”
“I volunteered for the local animal shelter. I went up there once a week and walked the dogs.” She said this in a quiet voice, remembering how Russell had disparaged one of her favorite things. “I also like to read. And work out. I lift weights several times a week.”
“And take self-defense classes,” he reminded her with a smile.
“Yes. Though none of that helped me defend myself against Russell’s attack. He caught me by surprise.”
Jason nodded. “I can well imagine. No one expects their boyfriend to start whaling on them. Especially if he’s never done it before.”
She took a moment to consider his words. “You’re right,” she finally admitted. “He’d never so much as raised a hand to me. I always thought his eyes were a bit cold, but...”
“What else?” he asked, his expression eager. “What kind of music do you like? What’s your favorite food?”
“Why so many questions? I don’t even know enough about you to know how you would answer those questions.”
“Fair enough.” Setting his empty mug down, he leaned back, arms behind his head. “I also like to read. My favorite music is classic rock, though I like anything with good lyrics and a decent beat. My favorite food is seafood, specifically Dungeness crab. Your turn.”
She eyed him, so self-assured and masculine, and briefly considered simply climbing on top of him and kissing him until he forgot about all of his questions. But they had the entire night for that, so she decided to go ahead and answer.
“I like country music,” she admitted, bracing herself to hear the same sounds of derision Russell had made. Instead, Jason nodded encouragingly, motioning her to continue. “And my favorite food would have to be Mexican cuisine.”
“Aah. That’s my second favorite.” Grinning now, he tilted his head and considered her. “You say you lift weights. I run.”
“You run?” She hated running. While she might do a little jogging on a treadmill, and only when she needed to add cardio to her workout, that was it.
“Yep. What about you?”
“If you ever see me running, it’ll mean someone is chasing me,” she replied wryly. “I’m not a fan.”
Hands still behind his head, he stretched, reminding her of a big cat. “If you ever run with me, you might learn to like it.”
“Doubtful.” She smiled at him to ease the sting. “Why do you want to know all of this anyway?”
He didn’t immediately answer. Instead, he lowered his arms to his sides and sat up straight, his expression serious. “Abby Lou, have y
ou had time to consider the future at all?”
The future. “You mean after all this insanity is over and I can return to my regular life?” In DC. Without him. The thought made her feel empty inside.
Was that a flicker of sadness in his eyes? She couldn’t be sure.
“What about you?” she asked, answering his question with one of her own. “Are you going back into the thick of things?”
“I’ve been thinking long and hard about that,” he answered. “And I’m considering retiring. I want to get this book of photographs published, and then maybe follow it up with one that’s much more lighthearted. You know, landscapes and animals and an interesting cloud formation in a dawning sky. I’ve seen too much ugliness in the past few years. I need to do something to help remove the stain from my soul.”
He had a knack for words. “I like that,” she said softly. “Will you live here?” As she spoke, she realized that it pained her to think of him living alone in this cabin.
“I’m not sure.” He shrugged, still holding her gaze. “Probably. At least for now.”
Nodding, she had to look down, to keep him from seeing the need in her eyes. She remembered how, even after she’d met Russell, she felt as if she’d never find the kind of love she could build a life around. Now she knew she had. She just wasn’t absolutely positive Jason felt the same way.
When all this crazy covert government stuff was over, she hoped she’d find out.
* * *
For one heart-stopping moment, Jason had been certain Abby was about to discuss the possibility of a future together. He’d replied cautiously to her questions about his plan, leaving a wide-open chance for her to say she’d like to be a part of it.
But she hadn’t. Though pain knifed through his heart, he’d kept a bland expression on his face. He couldn’t really blame her. Not only had she just regained her memory after her former boyfriend had beaten her to within an inch of her life, but she’d learned a high-ranking member of the US government had put out a hit on them.
Snowbound Targets (HQR Romantic Suspense) Page 20
