by DiAnn Mills
Again the SUV smashed into her side. The second impact caught her off guard. She veered dangerously near a waterlogged ditch.
She whipped the truck to the left and smacked the SUV. But the driver retaliated with a massive strike into the engine. She stomped on the gas and turned in front of the SUV. Speeding around it, she had an edge.
A quick glance in the rearview mirror gave her no indication of the license plate numbers.
A bullet sailed through the rear window and whistled past her head and on through the windshield, creating a spiderweb crack. She drove straight down the middle of the gravel road. Let the jerk try to get past her.
God, if You’re there, I need help.
The SUV crashed into the truck bed and pushed her hard.
April lost control. The truck leaned to the right and rolled. She remembered screaming before her mind numbed.
43
JASON PACED HIS KITCHEN. He couldn’t believe he’d been deceived. With shaking fingers, he slipped the personal documents back into the safe. Even if Willis set his house on fire, the documents would remain intact.
How many more crimes would Willis commit before the FBI made an arrest? Jason despised the fear coursing through his veins. It felt like he was alone in a battle against a man who wanted him destroyed.
Each moment that ticked by served as a reminder of how low April and Simon had stooped to hide the truth from him. Stupidity marched through his brain. Had the tender looks from April been a ploy to gain his confidence?
Calm down. Give yourself a little time to push aside the anger. Think. Reason. His rage drove him like a madman, but he needed to get his priorities straight—protect Isabella and his parents, figure out who’d killed Russell, and stop Willis from abusing or killing those who got in his way.
He hurried upstairs for another change of clothes when his phone rang. Simon. Jason refused to take the call. Let him find another worm for his fishing line.
In the kitchen, he put together a few things to eat and packed them in an ice chest.
Simon called again.
Forget it, buddy.
He opened the pantry for a few bottles of water.
Simon called a third time.
Jason hesitated. If he didn’t answer, when would Simon give up? Jason’s emotions teetered near eruption, and who better to hear his fury than the man who appeared to be leading the operation?
Jason answered. “You have my attention. Am I supposed to thank you for putting my family in danger and a price on my head?”
“Look, you’re angry. April’s not at fault. She wasn’t given clearance until five minutes before I called her this morning. Right now we have a situation on our hands requiring your help.”
“Not interested.” Jason clicked off. Three seconds later, Simon buzzed him again. No thanks. Not until his head moved into a sensible position.
He closed his eyes, convicted of behaving like a child. He returned Simon’s call. “What’s going on?”
“I’m afraid April’s in trouble. She phoned me after leaving your place. Said someone was following her. We lost contact, and she’s not picking up. The FBI is currently out of the area, and it may take a while before an agent can get there.”
His fingers wrapped around his keys on the kitchen counter. “On my way.” The keys slipped from his fingers onto the floor. Bending to snatch them, he sensed panic threatening to take over his senses.
What if Willis had sent one of his men after April? How far would he go to get her off the case? His gut burned. He refused to think about finding her hurt or dead. Not after losing Lily. Not after losing Russell.
He rushed out the door to his truck, taking two steps at a time from the porch. Fluffy raced with him and barked, as though he knew the turmoil inside Jason’s head. His parting words to April had been vicious.
That’s when his heart registered with his mind. April had become more than a friend, and no matter what she’d done, he couldn’t refuse her help or deny his feelings.
Slamming the truck door, he gunned the engine and spun it around to the road leading to Sweet Briar. His left foot tapped the floorboard. She had to be all right. The words he’d spit at her in anger needed to be reset. Talked out.
God, are You listening? Seems like You haven’t been paying attention to me. And I don’t care if I’m being self-centered in this.
In the distance, swords of fire pierced the near-dawn sky.
He floored the gas pedal. Stones crunched beneath the tires. Faster. Hurry. No other vehicles in sight. Slamming on the brake, he cut the engine several feet behind the inferno of Dad’s truck. Jason bolted toward the hot flames.
“April!” Another whoosh, and metal shot in every direction. He shielded his face as the force tossed his body onto the road. Crawling away from the blaze, he shouted her name again.
“Jason . . .”
Her weak voice sounded like angel music, and he managed to get to his knees, open his eyes. His whole body stung from the tumble onto gravel. She stumbled his way.
“Are you okay?” he said.
“I think so.”
He reached for her, drawing her into his arms and holding her tight. She trembled, and he probably did too. He didn’t want to let go. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“So am I for not pressing Simon and our supervisor.”
He put her at arm’s length. In the firelight, blood and bruises stained her face. Dirt and more blood streaked her sweatshirt, and both hands were scraped raw. The legs of her jeans matched but no signs of gushing blood. “I don’t see anything requiring stitches yet,” he said. “I’ve got a first aid kit in the truck.”
“You’re the one who needs a doctor. There’s a nasty gash on your forehead.” She raised a bloody hand to indicate where. “I . . . I saw you fly across the road when the truck exploded.”
“I’ve had worse.” He peered up and down the road. Desolate. The heat from the fire grew hotter, and they stepped back. “You were run off the road?”
“An SUV. I couldn’t get the license plate. Possibly a Toyota. Dark blue or black.”
“Willis drives a silver Land Cruiser.”
“We have a new suspect, and the vehicle now has dents on the passenger side.”
“We’ll talk about it later. I’m letting Simon know I found you.”
The agent answered before the first ring ceased. “April’s okay. I’ll take her by the ER in Woodville to make sure.”
“No,” she said. “Willis will have his men everywhere. Let’s get out of here. Don’t report this either to—”
“Jason,” Simon said. “I have agents close by. Drop her off at the hospital, and get back into hiding.”
“I don’t need a hospital,” she said. “It’s just dirt.”
“We’ll get back to you when we’re at Dad’s. If he says she needs the hospital, I’ll carry her there myself.” Jason slipped the phone into his jean pocket and took another look at her battle scars. “Your eye’s swelling.”
“I need an ice pack, not an ER visit. You look worse.” She peered into the fiery remains. “I hate to tell your dad his truck’s destroyed.”
“His insurance will cover the replacement.” He wrapped his arm around her waist, and together they walked to his truck.
“Ted and Miss Ella can swap stories of what I do to things I borrow,” she said.
He wanted to add humor but nothing surfaced. “Both of us tend to destroy what matters.”
She inhaled sharply, and he didn’t know if her reaction came from what he’d said or the pain of her injuries. “I want this over,” she said. “Willis in jail. You and Isabella together with your life back.”
The unspoken longing between them shouted louder than their words. What he realized earlier surfaced, and he turned to her. “I was afraid I’d lost you.”
“Jason, what is happening between us?”
He lifted her chin, and his lips slowly met hers. She returned his kiss with the same newness, a swee
t hint of the future. When they parted, she laid her head against his chest. Holding her felt like coming home.
“I feel your heart,” she whispered. “Steady and strong like you.”
“Only when I’m with you. You’ve seen me at my worst, and you’re still here.”
“Yes, I am.”
At the Snyder home, April stood in the kitchen and attempted to wash off the blood and grime, but her lack of energy won.
“Let me help,” Jason said.
“I’m not an invalid. It’s only a few scrapes.”
“Sit, missy.” Ted walked into the kitchen with an armload of first aid supplies.
“I suggest you listen,” Jason said.
“What are you going to do?” April watched Ted set the supplies on the counter, but when he raised a brow with a look that must have sent Jason running in his younger days, she slid onto a kitchen chair.
Jason dabbed at the open gashes with hydrogen peroxide while Ted used tweezers to rid her flesh of gravel. Most of the time she held her breath and counted until they moved to another spot that hurt worse than the previous one.
“Is this my punishment for totaling your truck?” she said to Ted.
He laughed, but she recognized forced humor. “Nope. This is a labor of love.”
“The way I see it—” she gasped as he yanked out another piece of stone or debris—“not much difference.”
“You two sure aren’t warrior material.”
“Thanks,” she managed. “I do have my finer moments, but this isn’t one of them.” She peered into Jason’s face, the man who had touched her with his honesty and caring. “I didn’t know the plan in Houston. Still don’t entirely know what’s going on.”
“Simon said the same thing. We’re good.”
She smiled and her mouth stung. When Jason kissed her, she’d only felt his lips on hers.
Afterward, she and Ted disinfected Jason’s head wound. He too had gravel embedded in his flesh, especially in the palm of his right hand and shoulder.
Simon called repeatedly, supposedly checking in and updating her on the agents at the crime scene. They’d found the remains of Ted’s truck.
Poor Simon. He’d coated himself in guilt, as though keeping her out of the loop had caused the accident. Maybe so, but regret left a bitter taste, and right now she needed to give him grace. His parting words were Willis had an alibi for tonight.
Crawling into bed hurt like she’d been whipped with a strap. Whoever had smacked into her had better be wearing armor when she found him. Just before falling asleep, she relived Jason’s kiss, a gentle reminder of something scary and beautiful.
44
APRIL WOKE FROM a deep sleep in the guest room of Vicki and Ted Snyder’s home—the same room containing Isabella’s crib, minus the baby girl who’d stolen her heart. Shadows played across the room, indicating an early hour.
She opened one eye to check the time and moaned. Every muscle ached, and the wounds on her arms and legs stung.
The clock registered 9:20. She’d slept a whopping two hours and ten minutes.
When the truck flipped, she’d cried out for God’s help. Church had been a part of her childhood with first Communion and catechism. She grasped rules like essential vitamins, but those things never satisfied the deep yearning of her soul. Once she left home, God showed up only on holidays and some saints’ days. Her prayer was likely born of instinct and desperation, yet she’d experienced deliverance and a miracle.
Jason and his family talked about God as though He were real, as though He stood invisibly beside them. She’d heard the “saved” and “accepted Jesus” lingo before. She had a vague idea of what the words referred to, but after being saved from death last night and accepting God had been the one who managed the feat, she wanted to explore the whole relationship thing.
If she were to trust Him beyond this world, she needed to begin now. From the way she was seemingly walking a tightrope between life and death, she needed to begin marching with God this very minute. The rules that governed her life—work extra hours, give it your best, fill your résumé with awards and commendations—didn’t give her lasting satisfaction. The performance trap to show her parents she’d chosen the right career only left her empty and tired. She needed a Savior.
Closing her eyes, she prayed and closed the gap between her and God—no negotiator was needed.
The dilemma of how to proceed stretched across April’s mind. Time to climb out of bed, no matter how comforting it was to lie there. Releasing an anguish-filled sigh, she dug her hands into the mattress and made herself stand. Dizziness threatened to overcome her battered body, and she blinked several times until her head cleared. She crept across the small room to peek behind the blinds. Her right eye must have been swollen because her vision was limited. A streak of clear blue crossed the morning sky. Wonderfully strange how a new day offered promise and hope.
Jason craved his life back, and Isabella surely missed her daddy.
Ted needed a truck.
The FBI was searching for evidence of who’d run her off the road.
Despite these things and how she ached, her heart overflowed with newfound peace.
She made her way into an adjoining bathroom. The mirror confirmed her earlier thoughts. Her swollen right eye left only a narrow slit for her to see out of. A black-and-blue bruise had spread across her right cheek, and dried blood around her mouth gave her a vampire look. Unfortunately Halloween had already passed. She suffered through a lukewarm shower when the hot water stung her wounds and noted the pink-tinted water flowing into the drain.
She dried herself lightly and wrapped herself in a warm robe belonging to Vicki. No sounds of Ted stirring met her ears as she tiptoed downstairs to the living room.
She moved slowly into the kitchen, ground coffee beans, and eased onto a chair while the coffee brewed. With a grimace she predicted a nap in her future. Her gaze fell on Ted’s worn Bible, and she leafed through it. Passages were highlighted and underlined, the ragged pages filled with handwritten notes. Curious, she read a few notations, but they were personal. She abruptly closed it, her heart rending as though she’d been caught looking through a diary.
“Something in my Bible disturb you?” Ted said from the doorway.
She swung a smile his way. “I felt like I was snooping.”
He grinned, and she saw Jason’s smile. “God wants us to be snooping in His Word. The answers to life are there. He doesn’t hide them.”
She understood and told him so. “Your family has shown me what I’ve been missing in my faith. Thank you.”
“You’ll do the same thing for someone else. You have a kind heart, April.” He moved toward the table. “How are you feeling?”
“Like a truck ran me over. Twice.” She pointed to the cuts on her wrist and hand. “Not far from reality.”
“Glad you still have your sense of humor.” He nodded toward the coffeemaker. “Smells like the perfect conversation starter. Can I get you a cup?”
She clamped her palms on the table to stand, but he gestured for her to sit. “You made the coffee. I’ll pour it. Nothing personal, sweetheart, but have you checked the mirror?”
“Yeah. Makeup will have a rough time covering up my face.”
He poured her a steaming cup with little bubbles and joined her with his own. “Really glad Isabella and Vicki are safe. I’m heading to church. There’s an 11:30 service. Want to join me?”
“Yes, I think I will and surprise Miss Ella. I’m waiting on several requests from—”
The doorbell rang.
Ted turned toward the living area and foyer. “I wonder who’s come callin’ on a Sunday morning.” He scooted back his chair.
“Want me to go with you?”
“No, ma’am.”
As long as the person at the door wasn’t Willis. But she wouldn’t say it. Her Glock was upstairs in the bedroom, and in her physical condition, she couldn’t take on anyone in hand-to-hand combat.
The muffled voices—her ears were probably still recovering from the explosion last night—offered no clue to the person’s identity.
“Come on in. Been wanting to meet you,” Ted said from the living area. “She’s in the kitchen.”
April didn’t trust the lilt in Ted’s voice.
“Good morning.” Simon entered the kitchen. “I could use a cup of your wonderful-smelling coffee.” He stared at her. “April, are you sure you shouldn’t be in the hospital?”
She managed to stand and give him a hug. “I’ve been better. Nothing’s broken but Ted’s truck.”
“I heard, a ’63 Ford.” Apologetic sentiment spread all over his face. “I’m here to answer a few questions. April, I—”
“Hush, we’re friends.”
“Makes me feel slightly better.”
Ted reached inside a cabinet for a cup. “Have a seat. Coffee’s on the way.”
April never fared well with surprises, even on a Sunday morning after putting God front and center. “Should I tighten my seat belt?”
Weary lines fanned from Simon’s eyes. “Jason will meet us at his place.”
“Simon, are you sure it’s wise to expose Jason at his home? Willis may have his men watching.”
“Agents are posted.”
“The same agents who are surveilling Willis? They’re not doing their jobs very well.”
“There’s more going on here than you’re currently aware.”
“When will I find out?”
“This morning.”
April could nudge him to tell her now, but no doubt he had an agenda. She took a sip of coffee while Simon added a heaping spoonful of honey to his. “Have you talked to Billie?”
“No. I’m hoping to persuade Jason to give us her number. Her sister claims she hasn’t heard from her. We’ll see what her cell phone records show.”
She thought back over the other times they’d worked together. He took more chances than she did. “I don’t understand why you scheduled a meeting with Jason.”
