Hot Pursuit

by Lynn Raye Harris

  “I’ve heard.”

  She let out a sigh and rubbed her hands over her face. “I’m scared, Matt,” she admitted. “And I don’t like it.”

  He shoved aside the box he’d just finished and climbed to his feet. A second later, he was pulling her up and into his arms, holding her tight. She laid her head on his chest, twisted the fingers of one hand into his T-shirt, and breathed deep. He smelled faintly of laundry detergent, warm skin, and a scent she associated solely with him.

  Why couldn’t this have been normal between them? Why couldn’t they have danced and flirted and maybe got here anyway? Oh sure, she’d been plenty furious with him after ten years—but they could have worked through that without all this other shit.

  “This isn’t what you’re used to dealing with. Of course you’re scared.”

  “What do your men in black say?”

  She felt his lips press against her hair. “Kev’s got the Kid working on it. We know it’s Rivera’s men, but that’s all.”

  “You’ve done this before.” Certainty flooded her. He was confident, assured, methodical. Too much so to be the kind of guy who simply jumped out of airplanes and helicopters and had some buddies with insider access to files.

  “Yeah.”

  She leaned back and looked up at him. Her heart did that little flutter thing it always seemed to do when he was near. “You’re more than an Army Ranger. You’re one of those SEALS or something.”

  Matt’s finger slid along her jaw. He rubbed her earlobe gently between his thumb and forefinger. Then he grinned. “I can neither confirm nor deny. Besides that, SEALS are Navy. I’m not in the Navy.”

  “Whatever. The Army has that kind of thing too. Green Berets or Delta Force or something.”

  He nodded. “They do.”

  “And you’re one of them.”

  “Can’t answer that.”

  Evie rolled her eyes. “You could tell me but you’d have to kill me?”

  He laughed low in his throat, the sound so sexy it sent a shiver skimming. “I can neither confirm nor deny, chère.”

  “I’m sensing a theme, here.” How did he make her feel so fluttery inside when everything was falling apart around her? Her world was filled with uncertainty and fear and he could still make her laugh. Still make her ache with need at his proximity.

  His fingers slid into her hair. “If we didn’t need to keep looking, I’d like to rock your world right about now.”

  “And I’d like to let you.” She put her hand on his arm, reveling in the heat and muscle. They couldn’t stop searching for that humidor, couldn’t stop thinking about Sarah. She knew it as well as he did, but still she wished for a few stolen minutes where life was normal again.

  He dipped his head, kissed her softly. In spite of everything, her heartbeat quickened. Her body vibrated with energy. The vibrating grew stronger, more insistent. Matt stopped kissing her and straightened.

  “Is that your phone?”

  Shit. She forgot she’d shoved her phone into her pants pocket in case Aunt Betsy or Julie called to tell her how Mama was doing. They’d promised not to leave Mama alone until Evie could return with good news. She dug it out quickly and hit the button.

  A picture flashed on her screen. Her legs buckled.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  SARAH’S HEAD HURT LIKE A BITCH. Her eyes were swollen from crying, and one temple throbbed mercilessly. She’d asked the woman—Brianna—for aspirin. She hadn’t gotten any.

  The big guy, Julian, sprawled on a chair. His attention was focused on a game he was playing on his smartphone.

  “Aw, fuck,” he said for the fiftieth time that afternoon.

  Sarah shifted on the musty bed. They’d cuffed one of her hands to the iron headboard and she hated to move or to call attention to herself because he looked at her like he might want to come over and hit her. Or worse.

  The handcuffs rattled with her movements. She shot a look at Julian, praying he wouldn’t notice her. His gaze flicked up, then back down to his phone as a musical chime indicated it was time to play again.

  The door swung open and Brianna came back in. She’d been spending a lot of time outside since they’d come into the swamp. It was too much to hope a gator would get her. The other guy, the smoker from last night, was nowhere to be seen.

  Sarah rolled a stiff shoulder. They’d stuffed her in a big duffel bag, dropped her into a motorboat, and brought her out here. She knew where she was—any local would—though she’d been surprised when she realized where they were. When the motor fired up, she’d been convinced they were planning to dump her in the swamp.

  She’d figured Evie hadn’t given them what they wanted or wouldn’t give it to them. Why would she? Sarah hadn’t exactly been pleasant to her. Not that she deserved it after the way she’d gone off and never called.

  Either way, Sarah knew she was dead. She cried until they’d dumped her in the cabin. Then Julian grabbed her by the hair and held her head steady while Brianna took a picture with her phone.

  Neither one of them had paid much attention to her since.

  “You hear anything yet?” Julian asked.

  “Signal’s bad out here. It comes and goes.”

  Sarah could have told the stupid bitch that.

  “What’s the plan?”

  “We wait.” Brianna picked up a pack of cigarettes and tapped one loose. “God, I hate this place. You smell that?”

  Sarah didn’t smell anything except the usual scents of mud and rotting vegetation that filled the swamp. But then again, those odors would probably stink to an outsider. To Sarah, it was just another whiff of home.

  “What? I don’t smell anything.”

  Brianna sniffed. “The air. It smells dead.”

  Julian shrugged and went back to his game. Brianna lit up her cigarette and took a long drag. “Dead,” she said thoughtfully, watching Julian.

  *

  Matt stood on the screened-in veranda and gazed out at the muddy bayou. “All right,” he said into the phone. “Let me know if you come up with anything.”

  He hung up and let out a deep breath. Evie was holding up well, considering someone had sent her a picture of her sister that clearly indicated the kid had been beat up a bit. He’d immediately forwarded it to Kev, but so far Kev couldn’t get a lock on where it had been sent from. The person who took it wasn’t entirely stupid. Sarah looked as if she was lying on wood of some kind, but it was too grainy to tell. The tips of someone’s fingers were in the shot. Someone who’d been holding Sarah still.

  The accompanying message said not to contact the police. No big surprise. What Sarah’s captors wanted was for Evie to acknowledge the message—done by return text—and wait for further instructions. Presumably to hand over the information they wanted—except Matt still didn’t know what that was. The picture came twenty minutes ago, and he’d been on the phone since. He needed to get back to the garage and find that humidor. Surely, West had hidden something in it. Something that Ryan Rivera wanted to get his hands on pretty badly. Matt hoped like hell Evie still had the damn thing.

  Because he sure as fuck didn’t know what he’d have to cook up if she didn’t. He’d figure that out when he came to it. One frigging thing at a time.

  “I found it.”

  Matt swung around. Evie stood in the doorway, a wooden box in her hands. Her eyes were glassy, as if she’d been drinking too much. He spent a moment letting his gaze wander over her. It surprised him every time he saw her, the way she managed to send a flash of heat through him. Last night hadn’t been enough. He wanted more of her—more sex, more talk, and more time to figure how why she made him feel this way, as if his skin was too tight until she walked into the room. Then it was a different kind of tightness—inside him—that usually took hold.

  He silently cursed David West, Ryan Rivera, and this whole fucking situation. If not for them, he could have spent several days making love to this woman before he had to return to North Carolina and f
ace a panel of military officers.

  As if anything with Evie Baker could be that easy. Matt ignored the voice and walked toward her.

  “I thought you were lying down.” He’d carried her to the bed when she’d crumpled and told her to rest. She’d been through a lot and still hadn’t had enough sleep, which made him fear another crash might be imminent. An hour or two of sleep would do her a world of good.

  “I got up again.” She thrust the humidor toward him. “Do your thing, secret agent man.”

  Matt took the burled-wood box from her. “I’m just a soldier.”

  Thank God she’d found it, even if he’d have preferred she sleep a while first.

  “Whatever you say.”

  He turned it in his hands, looking closely for any signs of tampering. He speared her with a look. “Think you can lie down for a few minutes now?”

  She stared back at him, never flinching. “No.”

  He’d always loved her spirit, the way she knew her own mind. But now, for some damn reason, it made her irresistible to him. She filled an emptiness he hadn’t known needed filling. He wanted to kiss her senseless. Wanted to strip her naked, spread her out beneath him, and take his fill of her.

  Goddamn, it wasn’t going to happen though. And maybe that was for the best. He wasn’t precisely happy-ever-after material. He was too fucked up, his future too uncertain. Not that she wanted that from him. She’d made it clear enough last night.

  “Come on. I need to get some tools out of the garage.”

  When he’d gotten what he needed, he led her back to the kitchen island and told her to sit on one of the barstools. Then he got to work.

  An hour later, the humidor disassembled, the cigars dissected and laid into neat piles of tobacco and wrappers, Matt was as puzzled as he’d ever been.

  “There’s nothing here.” He straightened and rubbed the ache in his neck. There were no hidden compartments, no hollowed-out spots, no suspicious seams. If David West had hidden something, it wasn’t here.

  Evie leaned on the bar, her chin resting on her fists. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “What were you looking for?”

  “A flash media device, a list, a key card—” He swept his hand over the mess. “Something with information on it.”

  “We should call the police, give them the picture.”

  “They’ll kill her, Evie.” He sounded brutal, but he didn’t care. He needed her to understand. She flinched and he reached out, squeezing her arm. “I’m sorry, but these guys are professionals. You get a cop involved, and they’ll make sure Sarah disappears for good. This is the only chance we have to get her back.”

  “But we don’t know what they want!”

  He raked a hand through his hair. “It’s here. Somewhere. I just need time to find it.”

  The doorbell rang and Evie jumped. Her eyes were wide.

  Matt glanced at his watch. “Shit.” The series of short dings continued until he strode over and answered the door.

  “Are you coming to the rehearsal or not, big boy?” Chris peeked around him. “Hi, Evie.”

  “Hey, Chris.”

  Holy Christ. “I’m sorry. I got busy.”

  “We’re starting in five minutes. Don’t worry about changing.” She eyed his jeans and T-shirt. “We’re keeping it casual tonight. Bring Evie along if you want.”

  He stared at his sister, at the happy expression on her face, and felt like an asshole for wanting to back out. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t hurt her like that when her wedding was in two days.

  He could use the time to think. Since the wedding would be in the gardens up at the main house, it wasn’t like he had to go far for the rehearsal. If he had an epiphany, he could be back to the carriage house in two minutes. “Can you wait for me a second?”

  “Sure.” She stepped into the yard and fiddled with a fat pink rose blooming on one of the bushes.

  Matt turned back to Evie, who’d come to join them at the door. “I have to go do this, and while you can come with me if you want, I’d prefer you get some sleep. Can I trust you to do that?”

  She had that determined look he knew so well. “I think I’d rather stay here. But what if they call?”

  “I’m not expecting it for a couple of hours yet, but if they do, call me. Don’t do anything without me, Evie.”

  “I won’t—but why do you think they’ll wait so long?”

  “Because it’ll be getting dark then.” He leaned down and kissed her. “No matter what anyone says, no matter what they threaten, you call me. I’m two hundred yards away. Got that?”

  She nodded. “I’m not stupid. I know you’re my best chance.”

  He couldn’t say why those words wrapped around his heart and squeezed, but they did. She called out to Chris, who came back and spoke with her for a few seconds. He wasn’t sure if Evie realized her hand was on his arm or not.

  Chris watched them with interest, her gaze darting between them. He could tell by the gleam in her eye she thought there was something going on between him and Evie.

  And wasn’t there?

  “Go,” Evie said. “I’ll take a nap.”

  “Don’t leave the house.”

  “Matt.” She dragged his name out.

  “Yeah, got it.” He joined Chris, who hooked her arm in his as they started up the path to the main house. His mind strayed to Evie and the problem of what David West could’ve left behind. Several silent minutes went by before Chris spoke.

  “I’ve always liked her.”

  Matt’s attention snapped to his sister. “Forget it. I’m leaving in a few days. She’s just a friend.”

  She tsked. “I can tell when two people are interested in each other. Besides, long-distance relationships can work. There’s e-mail, webcams—”

  “You know my life isn’t the kind any woman wants to share.”

  “You don’t know until you try.”

  “Yeah, I do. If Ben left in the middle of the night with two hours’ notice and couldn’t tell you where he was going or how long he’d be gone—” Not to mention whether he’d ever come back again, though no way in hell was Matt putting that thought in his sister’s head. “—would you marry him?”

  Chris scrunched up her nose, clearly peeved at being derailed. “Probably not.”

  “Exactly.” He’d made his peace with that a long time ago. Marriage and family life weren’t for him. He was too focused on what he did, and not ready to give it up.

  But what if you have to? What if Mendez and the board make that choice for you?

  Matt firmed his jaw. He’d deal with it when the time came.

  *

  Brianna walked around outside the cabin, fishing for a signal. It would have been easier if she wasn’t constantly looking at the ground to make sure she wasn’t about to step on a snake, stumble over a gator, or drop into quicksand.

  She swatted at something that buzzed past her head and stifled a shriek. Goddamn swamp! Why had she thought coming out here would be a good idea? She shot a glance at the cabin. Inside, Julian was playing that stupid game, totally engrossed. There was nothing else to do and she was getting jumpy. And the smell. God, what kind of people built cabins in the middle of a swamp?

  All around her, tall cypresses rose out of the murky water, creating a canopy over her head that filtered sunlight in tiny drops. Spanish moss hung in long hanks, swaying with the passage of the occasional breeze that came through. Julian had told her when they were motoring in here that the deafening sound coming from every dark corner of the place was made by frogs.

  Ugh. She spent ten years living in the country when she was a kid and she never wanted to go back. This assignment was a frigging nightmare.

  “Yesss,” she said when the bars on her phone appeared. Quickly, she punched in a number. He picked up on the second ring.

  “Does this mean the answer’s yes?” a male voice said.

  “I’m still thinking.” Her heart was suddenly
doing the flamenco against her ribs. “What are my guarantees?”

  He laughed. “There are none, baby.”

  “How do I know this isn’t a ruse? That you won’t double-cross me?”

  “Shouldn’t I be asking you that question?” His voice was cool, alluring. She’d always thought so.

  He was trying to shake her up. Still, the implication stung.

  “I do what’s best for me,” she said. “That’s all it is.”

  “Then give me an answer. Nothing’s changed since the last time we discussed this.”

  “I could get it first. I have the girl.”

  “You don’t know what you’re looking for. I do.”

  “Evie knows.”

  “I wouldn’t count on it. Yes or no, Brianna?”

  “I’m thinking.”

  The line went dead. Brianna swore. A second later, the phone rang again. She answered, triumphant. “You need me for this, don’t you?”

  “It’s why I sent you,” Ryan Rivera said, his voice as full of menace as ever. “And what the fuck are you doing answering the phone like that? Looking for a fucking pat on the head?”

  Brianna swallowed her heart. Jesus-freaking-Christ. Her pulse refused to slow down and her head got swimmy. She leaned against the side of the cabin and breathed deep. “No, sir. Sorry, sir. I was just, uh, talking to Julian.”

  Rivera grunted. “Where are you with this? Have you made contact with the Baker girl yet?”

  Brianna blinked. “Um, yes, sir. Soon she’ll turn over the info in exchange for her sister. We’re waiting until it’s dark.”

  He sighed patiently. It was never a good sign. A second later, as if to confirm it, he got mean. “Listen carefully, Brianna, because I’m not very happy with you at the moment. Get your fucking ass in gear and get me that information pronto. Then you need to make sure there are no witnesses, understand? Don’t leave a mess behind.”

  Brianna resisted the urge to stammer. She didn’t mind killing Evie and her sister, but she didn’t think it was going to be all that easy. “Evie has help, sir. A military commando of some sort.”

  This morning, the whole damn town had been alive with talk of Evie Baker and Matt Girard, a high school relationship gone wrong, and the way he’d saved her from a bully out at the lake last night. She wasn’t too concerned about him—he was as vulnerable to a bullet as anybody—but it added extra work to an already difficult job. Especially when she didn’t know precisely what the hell they were after yet. West had left the information with Evie Baker—but Brianna still didn’t know what form it took. And she was beginning to worry Evie didn’t either.