by Debra Webb
“You were so combative they had to keep you sedated most of the time. And the doctor thinks you need to stay at least another week. He says you’re lucky as hell to be alive. All three bullets nipped something vital. The staff around here’s calling you the miracle man. You’d about bled out when they brought you in. The ER folks say you were living on sheer willpower.”
“I’m leaving now.” Paul readied to scoot off the bed. “Get out of my way, Cuddahy. I’m going after her.”
He shook his head, empathy in those serious green eyes. “I understand how you feel, but the fact is she’s probably dead already. I know you don’t—”
“She’s alive,” he told him flatly. “I know it.”
Cuddahy considered his statement, then backed up a step. “Well, I guess we’re out of here then. I’ve got another team ready to scramble. We’ll go at’em from all sides.”
Tom was one of the few people who understood how Paul could sense things. And even he didn’t know everything.
No one did... except Jill.
“I’ll need some clothes,” Paul said as he gingerly eased off the edge of the bed.
Cuddahy pointed to the bag sitting next to the chair. “I’m beginning to think I might be psychic too.”
“And a gun.”
The demand startled Paul almost as much as it did Cuddahy. He hadn’t touched a gun in years. But he wanted one now.
“I can handle that,” Cuddahy assured him.
“We have to hurry.”
The nurses tried to stop them, but Cuddahy simply waved his badge and rolled Paul away in a wheelchair. He was weak as hell. He needed to conserve every ounce of strength he had for when they arrived in Paradise, which wasn’t going to be soon enough for him.
The one thing that kept him going was the complete certainty that she was alive... waiting for him.
Chapter 18
Sunday, July 24
It was late in the next day when Jill’s cell door opened again. Though she had no clock, she’d learned to judge the time by the comings and goings in the corridor. She raised up as Richard stepped inside, he looked frazzled.
“Come with me,” he ordered.
She shook her head. “Forget it.” She moved to the corner of the cot, as far away as possible. How could she have let this man touch her? The thought made her sick at her stomach.
He manacled her arm. “I said come with me.” He withdrew a revolver. “I didn’t risk coming back in here for nothing. That child you’re carrying is my retirement package.”
Her heart lurched. The baby. Oh God. She couldn’t do anything that would risk the baby. But if she fought him… “Okay, okay. Just be careful with that thing.”
He dragged her from the cell, keeping one arm around her neck, effectively pinning her to him. They moved down the long white corridor until reaching a bank of elevators where he stabbed the call button. Jill looked at the numbers above the cars. There appeared to be eight stories above ground and four sublevels. She blinked, looked again. Four underground floors? She wondered if only those with the right clearance even knew these floors existed. Probably.
She swallowed tightly. She had to escape. But she couldn’t do anything as long as she was a prisoner herself. She now knew with complete clarity how her mother had felt all those years. She’d done whatever necessary to protect her children. Now, Jill was sentenced to the same fate.
The elevator’s floor indicator stopped on sublevel four. She shuddered, feeling as if she were in a missile silo. Her lungs were suddenly hungry for more air.
He punched the button for S1. The first underground floor. The claustrophobia that had gripped her eased as they moved upward. The doors glided open on S1.
This level looked vastly different from S4, where she’d been held prisoner. Looked like your typical basement storage area. Nothing but long, deserted hallways lined with doors.
“Where are we going?” she finally had the presence of mind to ask. Her legs felt wobbly it had been so long since she’d walked any distance.
“It seems we have uninvited company and I plan to make sure you and I are not discovered.” His fingers tangled in her hair and he jerked her around to face him. “Behave yourself and I might just let you live. As much as I want the grandchild you’re carrying, I want to keep my freedom more.”
She nodded obediently. His fingers loosened in her hair, the weapon lowered slightly. When he would have started forward again, she kneed him in the groin with all her might. He dropped like a rock. She ran like hell. She had no idea where she was going. She only knew that she had to get away from him... from this place.
She heard him swearing. He was probably getting to his feet already. He had the gun. She had to protect the baby.
The corridor ended abruptly. She rushed through the last door on the right.
Darkness greeted her. She felt her way along the wall. Another door on the right, she took that one. It closed with a thud behind her.
A long, creepy corridor lay before her. The low wattage security lighting kept it from being completely dark. The corridor, tunnel, she decided on closer inspection, stretched forward for as far as she could see. She ran, refusing to slow. He would be coming right behind her.
If she could just get away she could bring help. She didn’t have the files, but she wouldn’t stop until she found Paul’s friend at the Federal Bureau of Investigation and then she would make him believe her one way or the other.
Footsteps echoed somewhere behind her.
Without daring to look back, she pressed her hand to her belly and ran faster.
~*~
“Look, man, I think you’d better sit down,” Cuddahy suggested.
“Back off,” Paul muttered. Yeah, the pain had him sweating profusely and he felt confident he was as white as a sheet, but he wasn’t stopping until he found Jill. They’d been searching for hours. The afternoon was fading into evening. No one had been allowed to leave either of the facilities, MedTech or LifeCycle.
They’d found nothing. Yet, Paul knew she was here. He could feel her. The moment he walked into the building, he sensed her. She’d never left Paradise. She was here.
And she was alive.
Somehow those few days they’d spent together had created a bond that went deeper than any other he’d ever shared with another human being.
A crackle came over the two-way radio. “We’ve searched all eight floors. Nothing but labs, technicians, offices, and office personnel.”
“The basement’s clear too,” came another report.
The LifeCycle Center was clear as well. The chief, the mayor and the senator, all of whom they had in custody at the moment, had taken the Fifth. Bastards.
Paul was ready to start his own kind of interrogation with one of them... preferably the chief.
“She’s here,” Paul insisted again.
“You give it a rest and I’ll go through the steps with the acting CEO one more time.”
Paul knew what he meant by that. Cuddahy was going to rattle the woman some more to see if she broke. She was slick, kept repeating that she knew nothing about their accusations. Paul doubted she would alter her statement but she might just let something slip.
His knees near the point of buckling, he rested his hip on a desk. Swiping his damp brow with the back of his hand, he studied the security monitors again. MedTech had a hell of a security system. Cameras everywhere. Even infrared heat tracking sensors that tagged body heat.
He thought of the basement in Karl Manning’s house. Fireproof... sealed off except for that one necessary hidden entry.
What if…he straightened and moved toward the single security officer left behind to operate the systems. The rest had been taken to chat rooms—Cuddahy jargon for interrogation rooms. This guy, the youngest and most cooperative, was named Lee Partin and he’d casually advised Paul that he’d like to be an FBI agent one of these days. Why not capitalize on the opportunity to facilitate the lines of communication? Paul was a pro
at playing the buddy-buddy role to get information. It was part of his training... part of his background in psychology. Hell, it was simply second nature.
“There are no other floors below the basement level?” Paul asked, instinct humming a familiar tune. He was on to something.
Lee shook his head. “If there are any, I’m not aware of them, sir. The elevators and stairwells only go down one sublevel to my knowledge. But—”
Something on one of the monitors snagged his attention.
“Holy crap.”
“What?” Paul demanded hoarsely. Damn he’d be lucky to stay on his feet another twenty minutes.
“We got somebody in the tunnel.”
He didn’t remember hearing anything about a damned tunnel. “What the hell is the tunnel?”
“Escape tunnel in case of a fire or other emergency,” Lee explained. “It should be in the main floor plans. You access it from the basement level. There’s been no activity until now and the sensors don’t lie.”
Paul had a feeling the tunnel was about more than a fire escape. “How many?”
“Two hot bodies. One advancing on the other.”
Paul leaned over the screen that had Lee’s attention. He winced at the pain that accompanied his every move. “How do I get there?”
“Down to S1. Take a right off the elevator.” Lee wheeled around and traced the path on the floor plan spread on a nearby table. “The last door on the right, then another immediate right and you’re there.”
“No pass codes or keys required?” Paul asked as he strode toward the elevator.
“Nope. As an emergency exit it’s never locked from the inside. Just a mile and a half of tunnel and then a ladder straight up.”
“Find Agent Cuddahy, tell him where I’m headed.” Paul didn’t wait for Lee’s response. His senses were buzzing. He knew in his gut that Jill was down there.
Lee’s instructions led him right to the tunnel door. Paul stepped inside and the door closed behind him. The dank smell assaulted him at once. Then his senses homed in on the mile and a half of near darkness before him.
Panic hit hard, paralyzing him with its intensity. Fear snaked around his chest, squeezing, making it impossible to draw in a deep enough breath, hindering the rhythm of his heart. He backed against the wall for support and focused on controlling his breathing.
Dammit. This couldn’t happen now. He blinked, forced himself to focus. Not now. It took him another minute to pull it together enough to move.
Please help me!
Paul gritted his teeth and banished the voice of the little girl he hadn’t been able to save. He would not hear it. You’re too late to save her. He shook off that taunting voice too. He had to focus on here and now.
He pushed off the wall and started to move. Faster, pushing past the panic, tuning out the pain, the weakness from his still healing injuries. Jill needed him. Adrenaline flowed, lending him temporary strength. He’d promised her he’d be right there when she’d wanted to flee Connie’s townhouse. He’d let her down. He’d let that little girl down all those years ago.
But tonight he wasn’t going to let anyone down.
A scream rent the gloomy silence.
Jill.
Paul ran faster. Ignored the pain searing through his body.
All his senses focused on one goal... protecting Jill.
The tunnel took a hard left. He skidded to a stop around the corner of that ninety-degree angle. Maybe twenty yards from where he stood, a ladder soared upward disappearing into the earth, leading to the escape hatch.
A man, his back turned to Paul, was forcing Jill up the ladder. Her blond hair swayed around her shoulders as she resisted.
Careful to keep his steps silent he moved as quickly as possible toward them.
“Don’t make me have to use this!” the man warned her.
Paul slowed. Richard? The voice was Richard Lawton’s.
Son of a...
The bastard had a weapon.
Paul’s heart seemed to screech to a stop.
He eased a few steps closer and assumed a firing stance. “Drop it.”
Richard jerked Jill down and against him and spun toward Paul.
She cried out, her arms stretching out to him. She called his name. His heart lurched back into a frantic rhythm. If Richard had hurt her. Right now Paul didn’t give a damn about the hows or whys. He just wanted Jill away from that son of a bitch.
Richard’s posture stiffened. Obviously, he hadn’t expected to see Paul again.
“Let her go or I swear to God I’ll kill you where you stand.”
“Take one more step and I’ll kill her,” Richard threatened, pressing the muzzle to her temple.
A slash of blinding light seared through Paul’s skull. The image of a little girl, being held exactly that way, the muzzle boring into her temple suddenly loomed before his eyes. He shook it off. This wasn’t that child... this wasn’t that cave.
This was Jill.
It would be different this time.
Had to be.
Paul stared down the barrel, zeroed in on his target. “Let her go.”
Richard had the audacity to laugh. “Would you really kill your own father?” He nudged Jill with the weapon. “Tell him who I am.”
She shook her head, refusing to speak.
He wound his fingers in her hair and jerked her head back, grinding the barrel into her flesh. She cried out in pain. Paul’s whole body contracted.
“Tell him!” Richard demanded.
“He says he’s your father,” she sobbed. “He killed the people who raised you, Paul.”
Renewed fury surged through Paul’s veins. “You’re dead.”
Richard just shook his head. “I know all about what happened in that cave, Paul. You told me yourself. You haven’t touched a weapon since you screwed up, have you?”
Paul blinked, but forced back the panic that threatened to climb up his back.
“You had a shot, but you were too afraid of hitting the child, so you didn’t take it.” Richard laughed again. “And that psychopath killed her any way. A very stupid mistake, don’t you agree?”
Paul tightened his grip on his weapon. “I won’t hesitate this time,” he warned. “Now let her go.”
“Are you sure?” Richard asked smugly. “You wouldn’t want to risk hitting the woman who’s carrying your child, now would you?”
Tension jerked through Paul. “You’re lying?”
“Am I lying?”
Jill made a wounded sound as he twisted her hair again. “He’s telling the truth,” she cried.
Emotions battered him as if he’d gotten caught in a hurricane. Agony roared through him and he blocked it, forcing everything inside him to still. He had to focus. Sweat dripped off his brow. Ignore everything else.
“Now,” Richard said, taking his silence for surrender. “You put your weapon down on the ground and allow us to leave as planned and I’ll let her live. Give me any trouble and she dies.”
“I love you, Paul,” Jill cried.
Her words shook him. She loved him. She was having his child. Richard was going to take her away. Paul was going to lose again and it was his fault. He was a coward. Two steps behind when it counted. Now, the woman he loved and the child they had created together were at risk and he was helpless.
“Lower you weapon!” Richard shouted, impatient.
Something snapped inside Paul. The tension drained away... the fear... all emotion vanished, bringing that stillness once more. He stared directly at Richard. “Whatever you say.”
That smug smile reappeared. “I knew you’d see reason. After all, we’re from the same stock. Now, lower your weapon slowly.”
Paul moved into a crouch, taking his time, then he lowered his weapon one fraction of an inch at a time. The muzzle of Richard’s weapon moved away from Jill just a fraction.
Paul jerked his weapon into position and pulled the trigger. The explosion echoed through the tunnel.
Time stopped.
Shocked by the unexpected impact, the weapon dropped from Richard’s hand and he grabbed his shoulder. He stared in horror at the blood oozing from beneath his palm.
Jill jerked away from him.
The next shot Paul fired shattered the bastard’s right knee and he crumpled to the floor, screaming and writhing in pain.
“Get his weapon,” Paul managed to shout before he dropped to his knees, no longer able to stand.
Jill grabbed the gun and rushed toward him. She fell to her knees and threw her arms around him. “They told me you were dead.”
“They weren’t off by much but I wasn’t going anywhere without you.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, then surveyed her for any injuries. “You okay?”
Her lips trembled into a smile. “I am now.”
Ignoring Lawton’s screams of agony, they leaned on each other and walked away.
Epilogue
One year later…
Jill peered down at her sleeping son and smiled. His dark hair was stark against the white ruffles of the bassinet. He was perfect. Fingers, toes and nose. Perfect and absolutely beautiful. Only three months old and already he owned the heart of every female they knew.
Like father, like son.
Speaking of father. She moved to the front window and watched Paul frolicking in the yard. He tossed the ball and Cody chased it, squealing in delight, the puppy right on his heels.
Skipper, the buff colored Labrador was barely five months old, Paul Junior’s first gift from his father, and already he was huge. But he was wonderful with the children, affectionate and gentle.
Jill looked out over the lovely landscape of their new home. They’d moved to Maine eight months ago. Privacy was the first requirement. Rural Maine definitely provided that. The setting was small town, though a larger city wasn’t so far away.
Best of all, no one from their old lives knew they were here. Well, no one except Tom Cuddahy. Paul stayed in touch with him to get updates on the MedTech and LifeCycle situation. The criminal investigations were drawing to a close and trials would begin soon. Both corporations had been dismantled. All files and financial assets, at least all those found, seized by the federal government.
