“How sure are you?”
“Eighty percent.”
“That won’t hold up in a court of law, but it’s good enough for me. Looks like we’re not going to get to eat after all.” He clasped her hand and stood, tugging her through the diner. “Let’s see where that corridor marked Restrooms leads. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find a back way out of this place.”
“Then what?”
“Call the police to come question our friends. While they’re being questioned, we’ll find a safe place to stay until we figure out what’s going on.”
“I’ve got a plane to catch in less than two hours,” Morgan responded, her skin crawling, her mind shouting danger. She’d survived the previous night, and she had no desire to repeat the experience.
“Do you really want to do what they’re expecting?” Jackson asked as he tugged her into a short corridor. An exit signed glowed at the far end, and Morgan wanted to rip away from Jackson and run for it.
“No, but I really want to see my family.” It had been too long since she’d visited, too many days since she’d called her parents just to say hi. Despite what she’d said to Jackson, there was a part of her that longed to call their pretty ranch-style house home.
“I think your parents would rather have you alive and somewhere safe than with them and in danger,” Jackson responded, his hand still wrapped around hers as he pushed open the exit door. Watery sunlight splashed onto scarred pavement, but did little to warm Morgan. She felt chilled and scared. The terror of the moment mixing with the terrors of the past. A hodgepodge of feelings that she needed to ignore if she were going to escape.
“I guess you’ve got an idea of where ‘safe’ is.”
“Anywhere they won’t expect,” he said, scanning the littered back lot of the diner and smiling as he saw their taxi parked near the corner of the building. “Looks like our taxi driver wanted that extra hundred bucks.”
“I hope you’ve got it on you, because I’m all out of cash.”
“Not a problem. I like to be prepared when I travel.” He held the taxi door open for her and she eased into the seat, sliding over so that he could climb in after her.
“You two want to go back to the airport?” the driver asked, his dark eyes meeting Morgan’s in the rearview mirror. Was he curious about her bruises? Wondering if maybe she and Jackson were criminals? Maybe wondering if he was getting himself in deeper than a hundred dollars could dig him out of?
“Sounds good.”
“You got my hundred bucks first?”
Jackson pulled a hundred-dollar bill from his pocket, frowning when the driver held it up to the light and studied it.
“It’s good.”
“Yeah? Then you won’t mind me taking a careful look before we go.”
“Actually, we’ve got a flight to catch,” Morgan cut in, her gaze on the back door of the diner. Despite what Jackson had said about the men not having guns, she expected the door to fly open and bullets to roar from the barrels of guns. She expected the taxi driver and Jackson to die and herself to be kidnapped at gunpoint.
Please, Lord, get this guy moving, she prayed, not sure God heard. Not completely convinced He cared enough to answer even if He did. She wanted to believe, though, and maybe in that desire lay the beginning of the faith she’d always longed for but had never quite achieved.
“Looks good,” the driver muttered, shoving the bill into his pocket and starting the engine.
Morgan’s stomach twisted with sick dread as the taxi pulled around and passed close to door. Was it her imagination or was it opening?
She pivoted in her seat, trying to get a better look as the driver drove around the corner of the building.
“Relax. They know we’ve spotted them, and they’ll probably do their best to disappear before the police arrive,” Jackson whispered, his lips so close to Morgan’s ear she could feel the warmth of his breath on her skin. She shivered. Not from fear this time, but something else just as visceral and unwanted.
She shifted, trying to put distance between them, her gaze still focused out the back window, her mind screaming that she’d better be very careful around Jackson.
If he sensed her discomfort, he didn’t show it. Just pulled out his cell phone and dialed. “Sheriff Reed? Jackson Sharo.”
Surprised, Morgan turned her attention back to Jackson, wondering why he’d called a police officer in a different city. Wouldn’t it have been better to call 911?
As if he sensed her thoughts, Jackson met Morgan’s eyes and smiled. “We’re fine, but it looks like we may have been followed. Two men. Midtwenties. Clean-cut. Blond hair. Military looking. One’s about six feet. The other is five-ten. Eye color unknown.” He paused, looking at Morgan again, listening to whatever it was Sheriff Reed said in reply.
“No, she doesn’t have a very clear memory of things. I’ve got the address where the suspects were last seen. Ready?” He rattled it off, listened for another minute.
“I agree. They’ll probably head back to the airport. I think the police should head there. We’re flying out in an hour and a half. I’m confident they’ll try to follow us there. Thanks for your help on this.” He said good-bye and hung up the phone.
“Wouldn’t it have been easier to call nine-one-one? You could have saved time that way. Gotten the police here involved and then called Sheriff Reed,” Morgan said, her body humming with adrenaline and fear. She’d realized soon after marrying him that Cody was trouble. She just hadn’t realized how much trouble. Cheating and lying were bad enough, but sending cold-blooded killers after Morgan was something she wouldn’t have expected even from him.
Which, she supposed, proved just how well she’d known the man she’d once thought she would spend the rest of her life with.
“The police would have wanted to call Jake to verify my story, so it was easier to have him call them with the information.”
“Do you think the men are still at the diner?”
“I doubt it. I figured they’d stick around for about as long it took for them to realize we weren’t there. The good news is, we were able to give the police a description.”
“I just hope it’s enough. I’ve got a feeling that if those men get their hands on me again, they’re not going to play as nice as they did last night.”
“I’ve got a feeling you’re right. Which brings us full circle. We’ve got to find a safe place to stay until we figure out who these guys are and what they really want.”
“I think they made it pretty clear what they wanted. A disk that I don’t have. I don’t even know if it exists.”
“Let’s assume it does. You’re sure Cody couldn’t have slipped it in with your things?”
“I’m sure.” She’d packed one suitcase and walked out. Cody hadn’t even had time to realize she was going.
“So, it’s somewhere else. We just need to figure out where, but first we’ve got to decide where we’re going to stay.”
“My parents’ place—”
“Is exactly where they think you’ll head. We need to go somewhere they won’t expect. We could head back to New York. Stay at my place while—”
“Are you crazy? I’m not staying at your place.”
“No need to sound so appalled by the idea,” he said with a half smile that made her heart leap.
“I’m not appalled. I’m horrified. I don’t even know you.”
“You know me well enough to be sitting here talking to me, and that’s all we’ll be doing at my place. Unless you have other ideas.”
“I do, and they don’t include going to your place. My parents aren’t the only people I know in Washington. I have an…” She let her voice trail off as Jackson shot a warning glance in the driver’s direction. He didn’t need to say what he was thinking. The driver hadn’t bothered asking questions when they’d offered him a hundred dollars to wait at the back of the diner. He and Morgan could be criminals for all the driver knew, but it didn’t seem to bother him. Would h
e think twice about relaying their conversation to someone for a price?
“We’ll talk more on the plane,” Jackson said, and Morgan nodded. Whether or not Helen would even open the door and allow her niece and a complete stranger to enter the sanctuary she’d carved for herself, Morgan couldn’t say, but of all the places Morgan had ever been, Helen’s was the closest she’d ever gotten to home. It would be good to stay there for a few days.
The taxi pulled up in front of the airport, and Jackson climbed out. Despite his relaxed demeanor, Morgan could feel the tightness in his muscles as he took her hand and helped her from the car. Were the men who’d followed them to the diner back here at the airport already?
Morgan wanted to hurry into the relative safety of the building, but her body wouldn’t cooperate. She felt old and used up, her body aching with fatigue. No matter how much she wanted to run, she could only move slowly, rounding the cab as Jackson pulled her carry-on from the trunk, shuffling along as they moved away from the vehicle. Her ribs hurt with every breath. The pounding in her head and the pain in her jaw and cheek were becoming almost impossible to ignore.
What she wanted, what she needed, was a quiet place to rest and heal. A place shadowed by mountains, set deep in the evergreen forest of eastern Washington.
Not home, but close.
And maybe that was the most Morgan could ever hope for.
EIGHT
Waiting had never been something Morgan was good at, and she paced impatiently as the first-class passengers were called to board the flight to Spokane.
“Wearing a hole in the floor isn’t going to get us on that plane any sooner,” Jackson said, snagging the back of her jacket and pulling her to a stop.
She whirled to face him, ready to send him on his way like she should have the minute they’d returned to the airport. Fear had kept her silent. Fear and something else.
She met his eyes, tried to form the words that would make him turn and walk away, but they stuck in her throat, sealed there by her own weakness. She wanted to be strong. She wanted to be independent. She wanted, more than anything, to say she didn’t need anyone and to mean it.
“It’s going to be okay, Morgan. I promise.” Jackson took her hand, his palm warming her chilled flesh. Auburn stubble darkened his jaw and there were shadows beneath his eyes. He looked as tired as she felt, but somehow managed to look stronger, more capable and more confident than she could ever hope to be.
Men like him should come with a warning label.
And an antidote.
One look in his eyes, one glance at his rugged face and she was tempted to forget all the reasons why she shouldn’t let herself trust him. Tempted to forget the hard lessons she’d learned from her marriage to Cody. Because as much as she wanted to believe Jackson was like her ex, she knew the truth. If there were heroes in the world, men who lived with integrity and honor, who championed the weak and protected the innocent, Jackson was one of them.
She shivered and took a step back, stopping short when Jackson didn’t release her hand.
“You’re cold,” he said, slipping out of his sports coat.
“No, I’m fine.” But he’d already settled the jacket around her shoulders. She could feel the heat of his body, could smell the faded scent of his cologne, and it made her long for things she was better off forgetting about.
“I can’t take this, Jackson.” She started to shrug out of the coat, but he grabbed the lapels and tugged it closed again.
“Sure you can.”
“Keep handing me your jackets, and you won’t have any left to wear,” she said, half-heartedly attempting to shrug out of the jacket again. The fact was, she was cold, chilled to the bone with fear and fatigue.
“The one I lent you last night has already been returned, so you’ve got nothing to worry about.” He buttoned the top button of the sports jacket, offered a quick smile that made Morgan’s heart jump, and then nodded toward the line of passengers. “Looks like it’s time to board. Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
“You don’t sound all that enthusiastic for someone who’s going to visit family she hasn’t seen in a few years.”
“I’m…” She stopped herself before she said more than she should. Accepting Jackson’s sports coat was one thing, telling all the reasons why she dreaded seeing her parents was something else entirely.
“What?”
“Just tired.”
“And in pain?”
“That, too.”
“So, let’s get on the plane, and you can rest for a while.” His hand rested on her waist as they joined the boarding passengers.
Morgan didn’t bother to move away. What would be the point?
They were going to spend the next couple hours sitting knee to knee and shoulder to shoulder, and there wasn’t much she could do about it.
Except tell him to go back to Lakeview.
She frowned as they boarded the flight and made their way through the half-empty cabin to their seats. She should tell him to go back. So why wasn’t she?
“Looks like there won’t be any problem sitting together this time,” Jackson said, taking the seat beside Morgan.
“There wasn’t any problem last time.”
“Not after I gave up my seat in first class.”
“I wondered if you had.”
“It was that or sit near a group of executives who were discussing the pros and cons of on-site employee training.”
“That might have been informative.”
“But not nearly as interesting as sitting with you.”
“No need for flattery, you’ve already gotten your way.”
“What way?”
“You’re heading to Spokane with me. I was planning on losing you in Chicago.”
He chuckled, the sound deep and warm, inviting Morgan to join in.
She might have if she weren’t so worried about what that would mean.
“So, where are we headed? You said you had an idea for a safe place.” Jackson interrupted Morgan’s thoughts.
“My Aunt Helen’s place.”
“I’m not sure that will be any safer than your parents’.”
“That’s because you don’t know my aunt. She’s got a cabin in the mountains. She goes to town once a week for supplies, but other than that, she rarely leaves the place.”
“She’s a hermit?”
“A potter. A renowned one, so she likes to keep her address private. She sells pieces of her work to galleries in Seattle, L.A. and New York, and she doesn’t like to be disturbed when she’s working.”
“She sounds interesting.”
“I guess so, but to a teenager who wanted to spend summers partying with friends, she was just…weird.”
Jackson smiled at that, flashing dimples that had probably won him more than his fair share of hearts. “Your family spent a lot of time at her cabin?”
“I spent four summers at her cabin. The day school let out, my parents drove me there, dropped me off and left me. They’d come back to pick me up a couple days before school began.” Four summers spent in the mountain cabin. No television. No contact with friends. Nothing but towering pine trees and the feel of clay beneath her fingers, smooth and cool and malleable. She hadn’t been able to control her circumstances, but she could control the shape of the vases and bowls she threw.
“I guess there was a reason for that?”
“I was a troubled kid with a knack for causing chaos and drama. My parents’ home was quiet and well structured until I showed up.”
“Showed up? You make it sound like you arrived on their doorstep unannounced,” Jackson said.
“Not quite, but close enough. We’d met twice before they adopted me. I don’t think they had any idea what they were getting themselves into.”
“I didn’t realize you were adopted.”
“Why would you?”
“I’d tell you, but I doubt you’d like what I had to say.”
“Which
, of course, means I’ve got to hear it, so, spill.”
“When Jude moved to Virginia, he asked me to do some investigating. He had a list of people he thought might be responsible for the hit-and-run accident that nearly killed him. Your name was on the list.”
“Because he helped put Cody in jail?”
“Exactly.”
“I’m not sure I’m comfortable with the idea of you digging into my life.”
“I was investigating your relationship to Jude. I didn’t research your past. Which is why I didn’t know you were adopted,” Jackson responded. “Of course, now that we’re discussing your past—”
“We’re not.”
“Sure we are, and I’ve got to admit, I’m curious. Were you in foster care?”
“I was in an orphanage in Latvia. My birth mother abandoned me when I was nine. I met the Alexandrias about a year later. They made two visits to the orphanage, and brought me home on the second trip.”
“And?”
“That’s it. The whole story. Or, as much of the story as I’m willing to share.”
“You know why I became a private investigator, Morgan?”
“Because you’re nosy and needed an excuse to dig into other people’s business?”
He laughed and shook his head. “Maybe, but it was mostly because I’m good at getting answers.”
“What happened in my past isn’t something you need to find answers for, Jackson.”
“No? It seems like your past has everything to do with the present, and that finding out about it will help us figure out what is going on.”
“Cody has everything to do with the present, but he and I met in college. That’s about as far back as any investigating needs to go.”
She thought he would argue, but he nodded instead. “Fair enough. Everyone has secrets they’ve got a right to keep.”
“Even you?” she asked and wished the question back immediately. Jackson’s secrets were no more her business than hers were his.
“I’m not sure how secret they are, but I’ve got things I keep private.”
“Like the reason you left your job as a homicide detective? It seems to me, a guy who’s good at finding answers would excel at a job like that,” Morgan said, desperate to steer the conversation away from herself, but not sure why she was steering it toward Jackson.
Running for Cover Page 7
