by Robin Perini
Daniel pulled the truck into the parking lot of a motel and turned off the keys. “This place should be safer than the hospital.”
She peered at the newly polished sign. Copper Mine Motel. Her fingers explored the bruises on her throat that the attacker had made. “I’m not sure if I should be relieved or worried.”
After Daniel turned off the engine, he twisted in his seat, his gaze intense, his expression unrelenting. “Even if your attacker finds us, there’s only one entrance. He’ll have to go through me and Trouble to get at you. We won’t let that happen.” He touched her arm lightly. “I promise you that.”
His words made her want to believe, to put herself into his hands. She couldn’t do this alone. If she’d been totally alone throughout this whole ordeal, she would be dead right now. Of that she had no doubt. She nodded at Daniel, regretting the action the moment her chin bobbed down. She could almost feel her brain banging against her skull. Even though the pain meds had taken the edge off, she could still sense every small movement from her neck up.
She winced, and he must have caught it.
“You’re hurting again,” Daniel said. He opened the door and stepped outside. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
He walked a few feet across the porch and knocked on the side jamb. A huge, scary-looking man stood in the doorway. Raven tensed, her gut winding in a knot. Trouble whimpered and laid his head in her lap. She gripped his fur and reached toward the door. She didn’t have a plan, but she couldn’t let Daniel fight the big man alone. If nothing else, she could be a distraction.
Then the mountain smiled, tilted back his head and chuckled. He slapped Daniel across the back and disappeared inside.
Daniel looked toward her and offered her a reassuring nod. He scanned the surroundings, and she knew he kept watch for her. Raven sagged in the seat and leaned her head against the soft back, uncertain why she’d been expecting an attack. The bright blue of the morning sky didn’t appear real. Nothing did. Gingerly she ran her finger along the bandage still covering the cut on her head. She pressed gently against the injury. A sharp stab of pain needled her temple.
At least the pain proved this wasn’t some crazy dream.
She was real. The locket was real. She snapped opened the catch. Was the baby real, too?
Searching for something to ground her, she let her gaze wander, looking for anything familiar. She could identify the steering wheel; she recognized the windmill looming above the motel. Her gaze swept the motel sign again. Copper.
The symbol for the element was Cu.
Her heart fluttered. She looked around. Where had that come from?
The wrought iron windmill. Iron, Fe.
She clutched her locket. Gold, Au.
Her head ached, but an almost desperate excitement rose within her. She knew this information. The knowledge was second nature. She could identify the elements clearly, easily. Was she a chemistry teacher? A scientist?
She glanced at the cantina across the road. Drinking alcohol, ethyl alcohol or ethyl hydroxide. EtOH. Flash point: pure EtOH caught fire at just under seventeen degrees centigrade.
She grabbed Trouble’s fur. “I remember something from before.”
Daniel opened her door. “We’re in room number six,” he said.
She barely heard him, digging her fingers into his arm. “I know the periodic table of the elements. I know chemicals. Benzene. C6H6. An organic chemical compound. A natural constituent of crude oil. It has a sweet smell.” Her body shook. “It’s like breathing air. I know it the same way I know Trouble is a dog, and you’re a man, and that knob turns on the radio.”
She smiled up at him. “My head hurts like the devil, but I know my chemistry.”
“Chemistry,” Daniel muttered. “It’s a good start.” He slid his hands under her and swept her into his arms, then glanced around. “You can tell me all about it once we’re inside.”
“I’m too heavy,” she protested.
“I carried you a couple miles down that highway,” he said, tightening his grip. “I’m getting used to the feel of you in my arms.”
Daniel balanced her against his chest, and she couldn’t help feeling small against his broad shoulders. He was a bit lean for his build, as if he hadn’t eaten right, but every sinew of muscle oozed strength.
With a quick turn of an old key, he pushed into the motel room. Trouble bounded in ahead of them, checking out the place, his nose against the carpet.
Daniel’s arms tightened around her as if he didn’t want to let her go. His gaze dropped to her mouth, and suddenly the sheer joy of knowledge transformed into something else. His eyes grew dark, a flicker of green sparking in the hazel depths. Her breath caught. She was hurt, dusty and so not-sexy, but she couldn’t help but lean into him. In the uncertainty of her current existence, he had become a constant.
Her hands flattened on his strong shoulders. His fingers moved along her back, and a flash of awareness tingled through her. Her lungs tightened, and her mouth went dry. She wet her lower lip, and his chest rumbled against hers.
Sparks she recognized ignited between them, and she squirmed.
In two steps Daniel laid her on the regular-sized bed taking over the room. His movements gentle, he placed a pillow behind her back.
She looked to the other side of the mattress, clutching the simple quilt with her fingertips. Not much room. If he wanted to sleep in the bed with her, they couldn’t help touching each other. Her gaze lifted to his, and she bit her lip.
The heat in Daniel’s gaze dimmed, and he took in a shuddering breath, as if fighting for control. He doused the fire burning between them and took a step back. “Sorry. They didn’t have a room with two beds available.” Daniel placed his hand on her arm, his touch reigniting that shiver of awareness she couldn’t deny. She may not know her name, but she knew the electricity sparking between them didn’t happen often.
He snatched his hand back from her arm. “We need to lay down some ground rules. You don’t answer the phone or the door. You don’t stand by the windows. You let me enter first wherever we go. Got it?”
“But—”
“It’s not negotiable, darlin’. You sleep here, as far away from the door as possible while I’m keeping watch by the window. You don’t have to be afraid.” His face took on a somber expression, and he trailed his finger down her cheek. “Not of anything or anyone.”
Including me. He left the unspoken words in the air around them. She shouldn’t be afraid of him, and she wasn’t, but she couldn’t help but be terrified of what she already felt building between them. “I can’t let you sleep on the rug.”
“It’s near the window. I like the open air,” he said, his voice soft but certain. “So does Trouble.”
Immediately the mutt bounded up on the bed, circled twice and settled on top of Raven’s feet. His ears flattened, and he stared at Daniel with a Who me? expression on his face.
She bit back a small chuckle.
“Traitor.” Daniel glared at the dog with a shake of his head. “I obviously spoke too soon. He’s been hanging with me for weeks, and he wouldn’t so much as come near. To you, he’s pretty much pledged his undying devotion.”
Raven scratched Trouble’s ears.
“Guard her, Trouble. I’ll get our stuff from the truck.” He disappeared out the motel room door.
She watched him leave and glanced down at the dog next to her. “Am I fooling myself, boy? Is he really the man he seems to be?”
She wished the animal could answer. Instead, she scanned the small room that would be her home until she remembered her own address. This place had to have been built in the fifties, but the pristine white tile of the bathroom looked new.
What little energy she’d saved had seeped out of her. Her eyelids wanted to close, but she couldn’t stan
d lying down without a shower. She wanted nothing more than to wash the grime off her body, not to mention the blood out of her hair.
Determined to get clean, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and set her feet on the ground.
Daniel came in with his duffel and a grocery sack. “Whoa there. What do you think you’re doing?”
“I need a shower.” She stood, the back of her knees against the bed.
“Well, it’s your lucky day, darlin’. The nurses gathered up a few things for you,” he said, lifting the small plastic bag. “Tomorrow I’ll try to get you some more clothes. The thing about small towns, there’s not always 24/7 retail shopping.”
“I don’t have any money,” she said slowly.
“Don’t worry about that. You can pay me back when we find out—”
“You mean if we find out who I am,” she finished.
“We’ll figure it out.”
“No one’s come forward after the pictures on the news?” Her voice caught, and she wished it hadn’t. She didn’t like showing vulnerability.
“Not yet.”
“How can I just disappear without anyone caring?” She couldn’t bear to look at him so she opened the bag and shuffled through the items. Soap, a razor, lotion. Shampoo. She froze. Baby shampoo. She stared at the small bottle for a moment. Compelled, she twisted the cap and took a small sniff. Her head spun a bit, and she sat down quickly.
“Dizzy? Nauseous?” Daniel slipped his phone from his pocket. “I’m calling the doctor.”
“It’s not that. It’s the baby shampoo.” She held it up. “I smelled baby lotion in the mine and reacted the same way.” Her eyes burned. “It’s familiar, Daniel, and my heart feels so empty.” She looked at the locket. “I know I have a child out there. Somewhere. Needing me.”
“Then we’ll find her.” Daniel knelt at the edge of the bed. He took the small bottle from her and held it to her nose. “Breathe in. Close your eyes. Do you remember anything else?”
Raven let her lashes drop against her cheeks. She took slow, deep breaths, searching her brain for something, anything that would give her an answer.
Only a fog clouded her mind.
“Nothing.” She frowned, the sharp words laced with frustration.
He entwined his fingers through hers and squeezed. “Not so fast. Close them again.”
She let her eyelids fall. Blackness overtook her vision. Gray shapes swirled. “I see something.” A pink blanket. She gripped his hand until her fingers had gone numb. “The blanket again.”
“And unicorns,” she whispered. “Rainbows and unicorns. It looks like a nursery.”
“Okay, that’s good. That’s very good,” Daniel said. “Where?”
The image faded away. She opened her eyes. “I don’t know. It was there, but now it’s gone.”
“Was the light bright? Were you in the west? Here in Texas? Was it cloudy? Maybe Washington or Oregon?” he prompted.
“I don’t know. I just don’t know.” She rubbed the bridge of her nose, then her eyes. Her head pounded with the futile effort.
Raven clutched the small bottle of shampoo and lifted her gaze to Daniel’s. “I’m scared for her. I’m safe. I have you to protect me, but the baby’s in danger. I can feel it.”
A loud pounding at the door jerked Raven from the captivity of Daniel’s gaze.
He slipped his Glock from beneath his jacket. “Get out of sight,” he hissed. “Now!”
Raven rolled to the side and ducked behind the bed. She peered around the end. Trouble stood beside Daniel, his ears back, a low growl emitting from his throat as he stared intently at the doorknob.
Daniel stood to the side, gun at the ready. He flung open the door. “Don’t move, or I’ll shoot.”
Chapter Five
Pamela gripped the steering wheel of the BMW and stared at the small ranch house situated on an isolated dirt road in the middle of nowhere. She studied the sheet of paper on the seat beside her, the map and phone number in her husband’s writing. She’d never thought she’d have to sully her hands again with his less-than-honest colleagues, but she needed foolproof documents for her family to disappear out of the system.
She had no choice, not if she wanted to protect them. Her knuckles whitened with tension. A whimper sounded from the backseat. The baby clutched the blanket, her eyes tear-filled.
“You’ll be mine soon, little one,” she whispered softly. “Forever.” She kept the air conditioner running, rolled down the windows and stared at the sweet little girl in the car seat. “You’ll be fine in the shade of the tree. I won’t be gone long.”
She exited the car, clutching her handbag to her side. She set her jaw tight with determination, straightened her shoulders and strode across the dirt.
The door opened before she even reached the porch.
“Mrs. Winter?”
“Hector?”
The small gray-haired man with the wire-rimmed glasses nodded once. He had to be four inches shorter than her own five-ten. Her confidence rose.
He waved her into the foyer, closing the door behind her. “I was sorry to hear about your husband. He was a generous patron.”
Pamela reached into her back pocket and pulled out a thick white envelope. “I can be just as generous. You have the papers?”
“Of course.” He held a large flat brown envelope. “The money first.”
She laid the payment on the entryway table. Hector picked up the envelope and thumbed through the bills.
“You follow directions better than your husband,” he said, handing her the documents.
Pamela’s chest tightened as her fingertips closed over the envelope. She struggled to keep her hands from shaking and opened the top, sliding the papers out.
Certificate of Adoption.
She glanced at the signatures. “Perfect,” she said, then briefly glancing at the other official-looking paperwork. “And the original birth certificates?”
“Inaccessible through a bit of misdirection.” Hector shrugged. “Easier than providing citizenship paperwork for your husband, but more expensive.” He walked to the door and opened it. “Just know, Mrs. Winter, that we now have a pact. I expect you to honor it. I look forward to working with you again in the future.”
Pamela slipped the documents into her handbag and grasped the butt of her husband’s revolver. “I won’t be needing your help again, Hector.”
She yanked out the gun and pulled the trigger.
A bright red stain bloomed on Hector’s shirt. His mouth dropped open. He fell to his knees.
He keeled over, lying perfectly still. Pamela knelt down to make certain he was dead, then rose and stepped over the body.
Wait. She couldn’t leave. The money.
She rolled him over and grabbed the envelope of cash.
“Thanks, Hector.”
Without a glance back she locked the door and walked to the car. The baby blinked, her lower lip poking out. Pamela could see the tantrum coming.
“You be good, little girl, because you belong to me now. I’m your new mother. Well, I will be as soon as the procedure is completed.”
Pamela tossed her purse into the seat, slid into the vehicle and shifted into Drive. Her lips tilted up in satisfaction, humming a lullaby.
Ashes, ashes, we all fall down.
* * *
DANIEL STOOD IN the doorway, his gun pointed at Hondo’s sister. Lucy let out a high-pitched squeal, and her eyes rolled back into her head. Before Daniel could catch her, Hondo’s sister had dropped a set of blankets and a pillow on the ground, and keeled over at Daniel’s feet.
He let out a curse, lowered his weapon and knelt beside the unconscious woman.
An echoing curse roared from the motel’s office three do
ors down. Hondo raced out and stared at Lucy.
“What the hell did you do to my sister?” He glared at Daniel.
“I guess I scared her.” Daniel slid his weapon into the back of his jeans. “I didn’t expect anyone.”
Hondo scooped the slight woman into his arms. “Well, you want any extra blankets, you’re coming to me. I sure as hell ain’t knocking on this door again.” He narrowed his gaze at Daniel. “That’s one strike, Adams. You don’t get three chances in my establishment. One more, you’re out.”
With Lucy in his arms, he turned his back to them.
“It’s my fault,” Raven said softly. “Daniel’s worried about someone trying to hurt me.”
Hondo looked over his shoulder, taking in Raven’s pale face. His expression softened. “I’ll take that into account, but y’all need to know something about my sister. Her husband damaged her bad. She used to be the sharpest kid in her class at school. Scholarship outta here and all. After what the bastard did to her, her mind is like a little girl’s. She just don’t understand this world no more. I won’t be having her hurt again. By anyone.”
He walked away, and Daniel closed the door, locking and chaining it. Guilt had him sucking in a long, deep breath. That and being inside. He didn’t like the way the walls pressed in close around him. He flicked the window lock and shoved the glass up.
A slight breeze filtered from outside, and he slowed his breathing down, one count at a time. Yes, calmer. Much better. But he could use a minute.
He faced Raven. “You said you wanted a shower. Now might be the best time.”
“Oh, if I could get clean right now, I’d love you forever—” Her eyes widened. “I mean...I’d really like that.”
A blush crept up her cheeks, and a sudden tension rose between them. “Well,” he said in an attempt to lighten the mood. “If that’s what you offer when I say you can take a shower, I can’t wait to see what happens when I ask you about dinner.”
Her cheeks went crimson, and she looked away from him.
Her transparent emotion seduced him as much as her words. After years of wondering whether each person he spoke to was playing a game, he’d erected walls that she obviously hadn’t. Honesty could be sexier than he imagined—and far more worrisome to his equilibrium.
