by Debra Webb
Distant shouting in the woods snapped her mind back to the danger close by. So damned close.
Jax pulled on her hand. Ali watched as he lowered to his knees, his chin level with the water’s surface. She did the same, stretching to keep her nose and eyes above the surface.
The ones chasing them were at the riverbank now. Their voices drifted through the cold, crisp air. She couldn’t make out every word, but obviously they were attempting to determine which direction the two of them had taken.
Her body shivered. She struggled to contain the quakes. If she made a sound, she might draw their attention.
Don’t move, don’t move!
More frantic talking. Judging by their voices, they were extremely disgruntled that they had lost their prey.
She closed her eyes and tried to ignore the odor of the water...of the rotting vegetation and something oddly musky. Where had that odor come from?
Jax squeezed her hand, and her eyes opened. Movement in the water drew her gaze there.
Snake.
Her heart stuttered to a near halt. She held her breath as the urge to flee fired through her veins. That was the musky scent.
Fear clamped like a vise around her chest.
The long brown-and-black body glided along the water’s surface.
Ali bit her bottom lip hard to prevent screaming. The sound burgeoned in her throat. Pressed against the back of her teeth.
Had they inadvertently awakened a hibernating snake?
Were there more? Was this their home?
Jax held her hand so tightly she thought her bones might be crushed.
Adrenaline buffeted her chest, roared in her veins. She could barely breathe. Prayed the thing would keep moving.
And it did.
As it glided away, the tension in her body lowered to a more tolerable level. Jax’s grasp on her hand loosened a fraction.
She managed a shaky breath without dragging water into her nostrils.
The voices had faded.
Jax waited another minute. Each second ticked off like tiny explosions in Ali’s mind. Her body had started to quake. She couldn’t stop the reaction to the cold now seeped fully into every muscle and bone in her body.
When they still heard no sound, Jax started to move in the direction away from where they had entered the water.
Keeping their heads down, they progressed through the chest-deep water. A few minutes later, he was pulling her up onto the bank. Her body was numb. She shook uncontrollably.
He burrowed into the underbrush and pulled her into his lap, wrapped his arms around her and held her tight to him.
She closed her eyes and let the shaking overtake her. She couldn’t fight it any longer. The air around them was quiet. Not a sound beyond the water moving idly along the banks. Her fingers felt like icicles, her arms and legs like frozen slabs. She had never been so cold in her entire life.
For what felt like hours but was certainly only minutes, they sat there, hugging each other, struggling to absorb each other’s body heat—what little there was. He stood, pulling her up with him. She couldn’t fathom how he found the strength to do so. She felt weak and shaky.
He pressed his face to hers and whispered, “We’re going to move slowly for a while. Staying quiet is our goal.”
She nodded her understanding.
Again, he pulled her along, ushering her forward when her body wanted to collapse in on itself.
Their only saving grace after that freezing dip in the water was that it was indeed warmer here than it had been in Tennessee. Still, she was so cold.
But cold was far better than dead.
* * *
THEY WALKED FOR what felt like miles. Her shoes still squished with every step, but her clothes were drying in some places. The legs of her jeans were reasonably dry. But the sweatshirt beneath her jacket remained soggy, as did the waist of her jeans.
She was still cold, but not the kind of cold she had been before they began walking. It was doubtful that she would ever truly be completely warm again. Her body was working hard to move quickly across the wooded terrain, which forced her muscles to heat up.
What she would give for a hot cup of coffee.
Jax stopped and listened.
She did the same.
He’d stopped once already to try and use his cell phone, but the water had killed it. They needed dry clothes and a phone, he’d said.
Ali wanted out of these woods. She had no desire to pee behind a tree again.
Jax hadn’t said anything else. She understood that keeping quiet was extremely important. If those guys—she had no idea how many there had been—were still after them, they couldn’t risk the sound of their voices carrying.
He didn’t have to say the words for her to know that he was focused on reaching a phone to call in for more reasons than one.
Someone on his team had sold them out. The marshal, Steadman? The pilot?
When the type of transportation and the place for takeoff had changed, he had sensed something was wrong. She had as well, to a lesser degree. His training had him on the highest level of alertness.
As strong as she considered herself to be, she was depending solely on him to survive this new development.
The stillness in the air, the absence of noise had them moving forward again.
With the sun high in the sky, it had to be nearly noon. She had never appreciated the sun more than this moment. The bare trees allowed the rays to filter down to them. Her hair was dry, thankfully. She imagined it looked a mess, but she could live with a bad hair day. Jax’s leather jacket was likely ruined. Like hers, his sneakers still squished now and then.
For the first time since this day began, her stomach reminded her that she hadn’t eaten in a long while. Probably all the physical exertion. She pushed on, keeping pace as best she could with his long strides. Not an easy task. Her legs stung from all the slaps of brush against her jeans, particularly while they were wet.
A faraway honking sound brushed her ears.
Jax stopped. “Did you hear that?”
“Yes.”
“We may be getting close to a highway.”
He started moving again, pulling her forward through the waist-deep brush and dead grass.
More noise filtered through the trees.
The faintest sound of barking...a dog.
Jax slowed his pace.
Then the reason punched Ali square in the face.
Dogs.
What if they were being tracked by dogs?
Fear shot through her heart like a bullet.
The barking stopped.
She tightened her grip on his hand. He turned to her. “It wasn’t that kind of dog.”
Relief flooded her, making her knees weak. She nodded. “Good to know.”
They started forward again, moving slower and as quietly as possible.
A wood fence came into view. It seemed to run for acres just beyond the tree line. Beyond the fence were rooftops.
A neighborhood.
More relief gushed through her. After reaching the fence, Jax stretched up and had a look. Ali waited, hoping this was perhaps someplace they could find a phone.
“We’ll follow the fence line until we find the end.”
She nodded. The going was easier here. For about three feet on this side of the fence line, the underbrush had been cleared. Fatigue was catching up to her now. Her muscles ached, and she was fading fast.
It felt like another mile before they reached a turn in the fence line. A man-made pond stretched out before them. Beyond that was a fenced playground.
Jax reached for her hand, and they started to walk again. Ali felt another shiver; she hoped anyone who looked out their windows would see them as just a couple out for a midday stroll around the pond. E
xcept they likely looked like hell. Bedraggled and grungy. Thankfully it was a school day as well as a workday. If they were lucky, there wouldn’t be many people home to see the trespassers.
“Should we just knock on a door?”
Jax was surveying the neighborhood, smiling as if she’d said something funny. “Haven’t decided yet.”
They walked the block, then made a left onto the next one. The street ended in a cul-de-sac where an empty lot and a home under construction rounded out the street with only one finished house. The finished house looked quite new itself and was for sale. Jax walked to the house under construction and studied it.
“Nice place,” Ali said as she too pretended to survey the two-story skeleton of a home.
“It is.” He glanced at her. “We’re going to walk around the house that’s for sale over there and see how difficult it will be to get inside.”
“Ready when you are.”
They followed the sidewalk to the house with the Realtor’s sign in the yard. Jax pulled a detail sheet from the flyer box. From that point, they alternately studied the flyer and explored. They walked up onto the porch and then back down the steps and around the side yard.
“Looks as if someone is living here,” Ali noted.
“Sure does. But I’m guessing they aren’t home.”
“How can you tell?” They were in the backyard now with nothing but trees and a fence that cut between this backyard and the one behind it.
“There were four newspapers in the swing on the porch. All still rolled and in wrappers.”
She had noticed the swing but not the newspapers. “But if someone lives here, they probably have a security system.”
“Mmm-hmm. But they probably don’t have it armed so Realtors don’t have to know the code to show the house. Too much of a hassle.”
“Are we breaking in?”
“We are.”
He walked straight to the rear of the garage, where a walk-through door led from the garage into the backyard. Using a credit card from his sodden wallet, he worked some sort of sleight of hand and opened the door.
“Did you learn that in marshal school?”
He closed the door and locked it. “I learned that in high school, but I’ll take the Fifth on the rest of the story.” He walked to the door that led into the house. “We won’t be so lucky on this one.” He tapped the lock. “This one has a dead bolt.”
He turned all the way around, checking the garage. There was a sedan parked on one side. A neat row of shelves on the wall beyond it. At the end, near the door they had entered, was a workbench with drawers.
“What we need is a key.”
Ali checked under the doormat. Jax felt along the top of the door frame. No key.
He moved to the sedan and checked the wheel wells for one of those magnetic key holders.
“Voilà,” he announced.
Ali watched patiently as he unlocked the sedan and searched through it. He climbed out with a key ring loaded with keys.
“Maybe we’ll get lucky.”
She followed him to the door and watched as he tried key after key. Finally, he grinned. “This is the one.”
As he opened the door, she held her breath. If an alarm went off...
But the keypad was not blinking. Jax checked the status. “Unarmed,” he said.
He locked the door behind them and tossed the keys on the kitchen counter. There was a phone with a built-in answering machine. Next to it was a list of numbers.
She pointed to one of the numbers. “This one is for a hotel in San Francisco.”
Jax picked up the list and turned it over. The homeowner’s agenda was written out on that side of the paper. He, she or they had left on Tuesday and wouldn’t be back until Sunday.
They were safe for the moment.
“Let’s have a walk through before we get comfortable,” Jax suggested.
Ali followed him from room to room on the first level, then repeated the same on the second one. He looked for cameras or any other devices that might notify the owner of their presence or record their activities. The master bedroom was the only one that appeared to be in use. The other two bedrooms had very little furniture, and there were no clothes in the closets or drawers.
Back downstairs, they returned to the kitchen and Jax checked the fridge. He grabbed two bottles of water and handed one to her. “Upstairs there was a laundry room. Throw your clothes and shoes in the washer and have a shower. I’ll stay down here and make sure no one comes in on us. Once your clothes are washed and dried, you play lookout and I’ll do the same.”
“Are you going to call Holloway?” He would be worried. “We can trust him.” She was certain of that if nothing else.
“I’ll call Holloway, and we’ll figure out what we do next. You go shower.”
He didn’t have to twist her arm. She was still cold, and she was so tired she could scarcely remain standing. “Okay.”
She forced her weary legs to climb the stairs once more. The master’s en suite was gorgeous. Lots of marble and a huge soaker tub. But she needed a shower to rinse all that murky river water off her body. She shuddered as she recalled the snake that had slithered past. But then, they had invaded his habitat.
She walked back to the laundry room and opened the washing machine. She tossed her jacket, shoes and socks inside. Then peeled off her jeans, panties and sweatshirt. Bra, too. She threw the whole lot in the machine and added detergent and fabric softener. With the selection set to a quick wash cycle, she pressed Start and headed back to the shower. She turned on the faucet, set the temperature to hot and rounded up a towel.
For a long minute or two, she stood under the hot spray and allowed the water to rinse and warm her skin. She washed her hair and added some of the conditioner that smelled heavenly. Then she spent a good long while slathering her body with the lavender-and-vanilla body wash.
By the time she stepped out of the shower, she was warm and relaxed and felt relatively human again.
With the towel wrapped around her, she moved her clothes from the washer to the dryer and started the cycle. She padded back to the bathroom and combed her hair. Since she had to wait for the dryer, she might as well blow out her hair.
When she returned to the laundry room, she draped her towel over the hamper. Her panties, bra and socks were dry. With those items on, she walked back to the master bedroom and had a look in the closet. She found a Georgia Bulldogs T-shirt and pulled it on. The hem hit the tops of her thighs. Good enough.
Downstairs, Jax had prepared her a peanut butter sandwich.
“Your turn,” she announced. “The rest of my clothes are still drying.”
He looked her up and down. “I got no complaints.”
She grinned. “Thanks for the sandwich. Did you reach Holloway?”
“I did. I’ll tell you all about it after I get this river stench washed off me.”
“You will feel like a new man,” she promised.
“You keep your eyes and ears open,” he called back from the stairs. “We’re not in the clear yet.”
Her smile faded. This she knew well. There were no guarantees how long they would be safe here.
There were no guarantees about any of this.
Chapter Fourteen
Jax had checked on Ali three times since his five-minute shower. Even five minutes was too long to allow her out of his sight, but one of them had to listen for any potential arrivals. Though the owners were out of town, a Realtor could stop by with a client at any time. For that reason, it was necessary to be vigilant.
He opened the dryer—finally his jeans were dry. He’d hung his jacket up in the garage. He wasn’t sure how it would come out.
This was not an ideal situation. Breaking and entering and basically stealing water, electricity and food were not a part of his traini
ng. As much as he disliked the idea of doing this, it was necessary for Ali’s safety.
Until they understood the full ramifications of what had happened with their transport, extreme measures had to be taken.
He had spent only fifteen seconds on the phone with Holloway. Though he trusted the man implicitly, that didn’t mean someone else wasn’t monitoring his calls. Holloway was aware they had escaped the ambush and were presently safe and unharmed.
While Ali had showered, he had poured a bag of rice into a bowl and stuffed his phone into the center of it. He’d removed the case hours ago, hoping the phone might dry out and still function. He’d also found some oil to take care of his weapon.
He would know soon enough if the phone was going to work again, he supposed.
Dressed now, he returned to the kitchen, where Ali’s attention was glued to the television.
“You okay?” He asked the question because her face was pale, and her arms were hugged around her body.
“I’ve been watching the news for the past half hour, and there’s nothing about what happened to us.”
“I’m sure the situation is being kept quiet. The AUSA will not want anyone to know his one and only witness is out of pocket. Of course, Armone’s people are aware of the situation, but they have no idea—hopefully—where we are at present.”
She tipped her head in understanding. “So this—” she gestured to the television hanging on the wall “—is a good thing.”
“A very good thing.”
It was nearing four o’clock. He had to make a decision. “This might be a little too close to where things hit the fan. I’d feel more comfortable if we relocated to a hotel closer to Atlanta.”
“Are we going to borrow the car in the garage?” She looked skeptical.
“We are. I’ll leave a note for the homeowner in case they come home early. He’ll be reimbursed. I’ll make sure the car is returned when we’re finished.”
