Love Inspired Suspense December 2015, Box Set 2 of 2

by Margaret Daley

  “Doesn’t matter. Let’s go.” Lacey grabbed Wade’s coat off the chair and reached the car. She jumped into the driver’s seat.

  “Wait! If we come tearing out of here, they’ll be on us from the word go. There’s no way we’ll lose them. We need to think about this.”

  “No time for a conference call, Wade! And we can’t stay in here waiting for them to break down the door, either. Get in the car!”

  Wade made his way to the Trans Am’s passenger side. Promise jumped in over the steel cage and parked it on the floor of the passenger seat.

  “Daddy!” Lacey called from her open door. “As soon as I start the engine, open the bay. Mama, call the police.”

  Adelaide held the phone up to show she was already one step ahead…as usual.

  Lacey slammed the door. “Wade, crack the window and get that gun ready. You have some tires to shoot out, but try to wait until we get to the bridge. Let’s get them as far away from my parents as possible.”

  He nodded and brought the window down enough to fit the barrel out. “Ready.”

  Lacey turned the engine over. The Firebird Trans Am roared to life like an angry lion being woken up in the middle of his sleep. The deep rumble echoed off the concrete garage walls.

  Wade shook his head. “Great. They’ll hear us coming from miles away.”

  “Yes, but there’s no way they’ll catch us, so who cares?”

  And with that, she floored it out of the bay just as the door lifted enough to clear it. At the end of the parking lot, Lacey took a right, her tires squealing on the pavement. The view in her rearview mirror was clear. She looked again to be sure.

  Empty.

  “Where’d they go?” she yelled. “Did we get away before they saw us?”

  As if on cue, the SUV shot out from a side street directly behind her. She’d spoken too soon, and this time she wouldn’t be getting a three-tap warning.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “Where are you going?” Wade shouted when Lacey took an unexpected sharp turn onto a narrow road off the main drag.

  “A shortcut to the bridge. We need to get to the expressway and over the Wando River to Charleston.” She glanced in her rearview mirror. “They didn’t turn. Maybe we shook them.”

  Wade kept his eyes on the passenger-side mirror and muttered, “I wish I was driving.”

  Lacey made a noise like a tire releasing air. “With the way you drive, we wouldn’t have made it out of the parking lot of the shop before being ambushed.”

  “Some would call my driving detailed.”

  “I would call it slow. Any sign of them?” She took another sharp, screeching turn that had Wade bracing himself in his seat.

  “Negative, but could you warn me next—Lacey! On your right!”

  The black SUV rocketed out of a side street directly in front of them, cutting them off. The Trans Am’s brakes locked up to a fishtailing stop. Lacey switched gears and had the car careening down another street. A look in the mirror showed the bouncing headlights of the SUV coming up right behind them.

  “They’re on us,” he warned.

  “How do they know these back roads? I thought for sure I’d lose them.” Lacey banged the steering wheel with the palm of her left hand. “It was as if they knew exactly where I was headed. I don’t get it.”

  “Don’t try to. Just drive. Get us to the bridge.”

  Lacey shifted the stick and the car roared to the next gear, sending them flying down the street. She picked up another side street.

  Wade spotted the SUV one block over, heading in the same direction, driving parallel to them. The bridge came into view ahead. “They’re trying to beat us to the bridge to cut us off. Go!”

  “I love that word,” she said.

  Wade turned his head away from the window to judge her profile. “I think you’re enjoying this too much. This isn’t your typical race, you know. If you lose this one, we die.”

  “Lose?” She shifted again. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

  They exited the street and raced to the expressway.

  “Get your gun ready,” Lacey said, calm and collected, as she looked into her rearview mirror. “They’re coming up on my left. As soon as they reach us, I’ll switch lanes so they’re on your side.”

  With the SUV in place, Lacey hit the brakes and the SUV continued to drive forward past them. She quickly cranked the wheel left to fall in behind the SUV, making her now the chaser.

  Wade whistled. “That was smooth.”

  “What were you saying about slow being smooth?”

  “Nothing. Never mind.”

  The SUV led the way onto the bridge and out over the river.

  “He’s biding his time. Any second now, he’s going to brake to make us either hit him or attempt not to, which could land us in the river if we go over the concrete barrier. I, for one, am not up for a swim.”

  “So then back off.”

  “Back off? You keep speaking another language to me.”

  Lacey wrenched the wheel to the left and came up on the left side of the SUV. There was barely any room to fit, but no big deal. She squeezed in, door handle to door handle. “Can you see any faces?”

  “The windows are tinted. All I can see is an outline of their heads.”

  Just then the SUV driver whipped the wheel to smash into the side of the Trans Am.

  “Oh, you want to swap paint, do you?” Lacey yelled and rammed back. “How does that feel? We have a steel cage taking the shock. What do you have?”

  The window cracked, and the barrel of a gun appeared.

  “Time to go,” she said, and hit the gas to pull out in front of them at high speed. “Now, Wade! Kill their tires!”

  Wade was already taking aim at the wheels. Two shots blew out both the driver’s-side tires, sending the SUV in a spin, then a flip. It skidded on its rooftop toward the concrete barrier. Sparks flew and so did seconds as they waited to see the outcome in their mirrors.

  The truck slammed into the wall and lifted onto its front end. Wade’s lungs burned as he held his breath. The SUV seemed to hover straight up in the air as its momentum decided if it was strong enough to continue over the barrier.

  Then the vehicle slammed back down on the road.

  Lacey banged her fist on the wheel again. “So close!”

  “Not to worry. They won’t be going anywhere for a while. Let’s get out of here before any witnesses turn us in. At least morning rush hour is over and the bridge is nearly empty.”

  “Do you think we’re free, then? We can stop looking over our shoulder?”

  “Just drive. I’ll do the watching, but yes, I think we have a small breather. And if we change up our direction every few hours, it should stay that way. They won’t know where we’re heading or where to cut us off like last time.”

  “I doubt they’ll even find us.”

  “They found us at your family’s shop. They knew to go there and not the house.”

  “Yeah, that is weird.”

  “Weird, or they’ve found a way to track us.” Wade touched the buckle of his GPS watch. Had they figured out he had one and found a way to use it to their advantage? Whether or not they had, he rolled down his window and made the decision to let it go.

  *

  “Bridge,” Wade reminded her again from the passenger side of the darkened car.

  “Oops, sorry, I’m getting tired.” Lacey hit the blinker and changed lanes just as they passed under the overpass. “You would think I would be used to changing lanes under the bridges after thirty hours of driving with you. Are you ever going to tell me why I have to switch lanes under every overpass? Don’t get me wrong, it’s great practice for racing, especially during heavy traffic, but I would still love to know why you want me to do it.”

  “I told you the last time you asked. You won’t understand.”

  Lacey gave up and kept driving into the night. She looked to where Wade held the gun on his right thigh. He’d kept it at the rea
dy since she handed it off to him. Now, after all these quick lane changes for no apparent reason, she had to wonder if giving him the gun had been a good idea.

  She decided to ask another question he probably wouldn’t answer, either. “Why doesn’t your sister want you to carry a weapon?”

  “And here I thought Questions was gone for good.”

  “Not until Secrets is.”

  “I don’t keep silent about things because I want to keep secrets. It’s for your own protection.”

  “I’m tough, Wade. I can handle it. I’ve seen death, you know. Drivers don’t always come away from a race.”

  After a few minutes of more silence, other than Promise’s snoring from the passenger-side floor, he said, “Overseas the insurgents throw bombs off the bridges just as you’re driving under them. I’ve seen enough of my men in their Humvees explode under a bridge to be wary. You get used to switching lanes to stay alive. The habit stays with you even after you return home.”

  Lacey felt her eyes widen. She hadn’t been expecting that as an answer to her question. “I see.” Her voice sounded low and deep in the quiet cabin. She looked off to the next overpass coming closer and got ready to change lanes again. “I don’t think I’ll ever look at another bridge the same way.” Wade faced forward, nothing but the dashboard lights illuminating his face. “Thank you for sharing, Wade. And thank you for your sacrifice.”

  “You’re welcome, but it wasn’t a sacrifice. I consider it an honor to serve my country with so many courageous people. Many I will miss greatly.”

  Wade wrapped his hand around the butt of the gun. It fit like a glove.

  “But they didn’t all die during their tours, did they?”

  He shot her a look, eyes blinking, before he shook his head. “Some can’t come back and start over again.”

  “And that’s why the army gave you Promise, and why your sister doesn’t want you carrying.”

  He gave a short nod before looking out the passenger window.

  Promise whined and stirred from her slumber at Wade’s feet. He reached down with his free hand and patted her. “I’m okay, girl.”

  “She senses you even in her sleep.”

  “She’s woken me up from many a nightmare. Flips on the lights and everything.”

  Lacey wondered what those dreams entailed. How far to the edge they might push him. “Does your sister’s worry about you carrying a gun have weight?”

  “No,” he answered quickly. “But she doesn’t believe me. I would never take my life. I’ve seen too much death. I cherish life too much to even think it. I have hope that tomorrow will be better.”

  Lacey looked back to the open road in front of her. “I believe you.” And she did. The way he took protecting her so seriously, when he didn’t even know her, told her so. “What kind of things do you do in the army?”

  “Typical stuff.”

  “Like?”

  He shrugged. “Rescues, rappelling, reports. Lots of reports.”

  “Rappelling? Like off cliffs?”

  “No. Out of helicopters.”

  “Really? No way!”

  Wade laughed, the sound so rich and pleasant it lifted the mood around them. She realized it was the first real laugh she’d heard from him since they met. She could listen to it for hours, but the chances of hearing it again were probably nil.

  “So how does one rappel?” she asked. “Throw a rope out and slide down?”

  “It’s a little more detailed than that. Or you die. I told you I cherish life, didn’t I?”

  “More detailed? Just up your alley, then. You do like your plans and stuff.”

  He smiled big her way, and his dimple popped, but no laugh.

  Too bad.

  “Take the next right,” he said. “We’re back.”

  The sign for entering Norcastle shone in the headlights. It seemed so long ago when they’d raced out of there, but that could be because she felt as though they’d traveled the whole country since they’d left. With all their false turns and alternative routes to trick their pursuers, it took them a lot longer to get here than Lacey’s first trip up north. But the detours were necessary to stay alive.

  “It’s so peaceful up in these mountains,” Lacey said as she leaned forward over the steering wheel to look up and out the window. “Those stars are amazing. I missed them the first time coming here.”

  “You have an excuse. You were being followed.”

  “True, but even though I had unwanted company, I still liked the feeling of your town,” she told him. “There’s just something strong and resilient about it. Really community oriented. It probably helped me stay calm and focused, and I didn’t even realize it. I feel as if I’ve stepped back in time to the late 1800s. Especially with the Victorian architecture of your town hall and the opera house at the village’s center. I really like how everyone decked their homes in Christmas lights, too. It’s festive and welcoming.”

  “The buildings have had a lot of work done to them in the past twenty years,” he said. “Before that, the place was nearly in ruins. Picture the factories along the river with busted windows and a lot of spray paint. You wouldn’t have felt very welcome if you came then. The place was desolate. After the factories closed, people left everything behind and moved away.”

  “Then your parents arrived and opened a racetrack. Those newspaper clippings my brother put on the flash drive say Spencer Speedway was here to save the town. It looks as if it did.”

  Lacey looked out at the many lights filling the windows of the factories, now turned into lofts, apartments, inns and restaurants. She sensed no failure to thrive roaming through these downtown streets. Only new life.

  “It’s more than what you see, too,” Wade said. “It’s more than jobs for the community. Whole families have been brought together through racing. It’s a common bond that tightens their relationships, except if you’re the owners’ kids. Our family was obliterated.” Bitterness showed through Wade’s smirk. “When I see the fruit of what my parents started, particularly my mom, who had the vision for all this in the first place, I get stumped. How could someone do so much good and bad at the same time?”

  Lacey took in the town. Meredith had a love for racing but also family and community. Why? “You’re right, Wade. It doesn’t jibe. I’m thinking you might be wrong about your mom.”

  “You saw your brother’s manuscript. He found enough on her to write a book. A Russian Spy at an American Racetrack. You saw it yourself. All of this was a cover.”

  “You can’t know that without reading what Jeff wrote.”

  “I plan to as soon we get back.”

  “Back? Don’t you mean home?”

  “No. This place is not my home and never will be.”

  *

  Wade was glad when Lacey left his comment alone. He shouldn’t have said it in the first place. It was a slip, but explained how going home always felt like going back to the place of injury, which was why he rarely returned and only for short visits to appease his sister. Going home always meant ripping the scars off his wounds only to relive the pain all over again.

  Wade closed his eyes and dropped his head back on the leather headrest. He breathed deep and felt a slobbery lick on his hand. He opened his eyes to find Promise resting her head on his seat. She’d roused from her slumber from under his feet to offer him comfort. The dog knew her duty. She was well trained at what she did. He recognized it for what it was. Lacey may say it was love, but he would recognize duty anywhere.

  Mostly because of the duty he shirked on a daily basis—leaving the racetrack to his sister to run.

  “Take the next right,” he instructed.

  “Is it a shortcut to the house?” Lacey craned her neck to scan the rearview mirror. “Are we being followed again? Did they catch up to us? How?” Panic raised her deep voice.

  “No one’s following us. Calm down. Your expertise took care of our company way back in South Carolina.”

  She smi
led big and beautiful, and he let the sight clear away his doldrums.

  “Why, thank you, Wade. And yours, too, by the way. You’re a great shot. Are you sure you don’t want to add sniper to your duties in the army? It couldn’t have been all rappelling and reports.” She took the turn, looking at him eagerly for an answer. Her eyebrows arched to open vibrant, curious eyes.

  Wade couldn’t hold back his own smile. “I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.” She laughed, but he let his smile go while his hand roamed over Promise’s silky fur. “War is hard, Lacey. I don’t even want you imagining it.”

  She drove in silence a mile down the road before she asked, “Where are we going?”

  “To the track.”

  She whipped a look at him. “But isn’t it closed for the season?”

  “I know the owners.”

  “But why are we going there?”

  I’m not ready to go back. “I want to check something out.”

  “But it’s dark.”

  “I’ll put the lights on for you, scaredy-cat.”

  “Who said I was scared?” She floored it, and Wade smiled in satisfaction. He would say she was predictable, but really the only thing he could count on where Lacey was concerned was her impulsivity. Hang a carrot in front of her, and she would go for it. Even hint that she had inadequacies, and she would set out to prove you wrong.

  It went beyond her mother and the guys at the track. It was a constant battle she felt she needed to fight.

  But then, who was he to talk? His battles raged constantly in him, too.

  “What are we looking for?” Lacey asked at the parking lot of Spencer Speedway.

  “It’s something about those pictures your brother took when he was here in August. I noticed he only took one picture of the track. Most of his photos were of the grandstand and the beverage truck.”

  “Did you tell him about how you spoke to that man under the grandstand?”

  “Jeff knew all about that incident. I told him everything so he could help.”

  “I’m sure that’s why he took pictures of the grandstand then. Over it and under it.”

  “But what about the beverage delivery truck? Why take so many shots of that? It’s a 1961 Ford truck that’s been there since it died there, long before the track opened. My parents thought it was neat and kept it as a novelty.”