Hot Pursuit

by Lynn Raye Harris

  Kev let out a relieved breath. Jack’s tense stance eased, and Billy’s fingers started to fly even before the CO gave the order. Mendez was on board, consequences be damned.

  “Enable the satellite tracking on his phone,” Mendez said. “Let’s find out where these bastards are. Soon as we got it, call in the locals. No time to get a team down there.”

  “Hoo-ah, sir,” they said in unison.

  Kev just hoped Matt was in a position to stay alive a little while longer. They needed time to track him. Not much, true, but sometimes even a minute was too long when lives were on the line.

  *

  Evie let out the breath she’d been holding when Matt disconnected the call. Sarah held her so tight it broke her heart. Just a couple of days ago she’d been a typical teenager who didn’t much cotton to a prodigal big sister. And now the kid clung to her like Evie was her salvation. It wasn’t right.

  A couple of steps away, David gripped the gun in a white-knuckled fist. Matt stood beside the table, his cuffed hands resting in front of his body. And yet he looked anything but helpless. David sensed it too, if his grip was any indication.

  She lowered her gaze to Sarah’s dark head and continued smoothing her sister’s hair. Pain exploded in Evie’s scalp as David wrapped a fist in her hair and yanked her off the banquette. She cried out as her hip smacked hard against the cabin floor. Her eyes smarted with tears. Sarah wailed, reaching for her. Somehow, Matt was there, preventing Sarah from latching onto Evie as David tugged her back toward the steps leading up to the deck. She scrambled to keep up with him, to keep him from ripping her hair out or killing her in his rage.

  When David stopped moving, Evie felt the cold press of metal to her temple. She closed her eyes, then snapped them open again to meet Matt’s icy stare. If she was about to die, the very last thing she wanted to see was his face. It didn’t matter that he’d gone into badass mode, that his expression was carefully blank of emotion, or that she could have meant about as much to him as what he’d had for dinner for all the concern he showed.

  “Where the fuck is that disc?” David demanded.

  “What makes you think I have it?” Matt’s voice was ice.

  The gun dug into her head. “If you don’t hand it over, I’ll kill her.”

  Matt shrugged. “You’ll kill her anyway. And me and the girl along with her.”

  “Maybe, but I don’t see where you have a choice. Not if you want her to stay alive for more than the next five minutes.”

  Matt managed to look menacing enough that the pressure of the gun eased up slightly. He tilted his chin toward the table where his phone lay. “You heard him. They’ve cracked the code. You kill us and you’re gonna have the meanest motherfucking Special Forces team the military ever created tracking your ass.” If anything, his voice grew harder, colder. “I’ve spent a lot of miserable hours in some of the worst shitholes this world has to offer with those guys. If you think we don’t know ways you’ve never thought of to kill a man, you aren’t as smart as you seem. What they do to you will make a mob hit look like a pleasant death.”

  The flat, dead look in Matt’s eyes made her heart ache. What had he been through that could leach the life out of him like that? She wanted to hold him, to disappear with him. She focused on him and tried to shut out David and the reality of the gun barrel against her skin.

  I love you. The words popped into her head, and she knew they were true. It was a stunning realization. And a sobering one. She wanted to say the words, wanted him to know, and yet she couldn’t endanger him. Couldn’t put any thought in his head that pulled him out of the zone. Somehow, she knew that instinctively.

  David let go of her hair, put his arm around her waist, and jerked her against him. The gun dropped, reappeared beneath her chin. He dragged her up the steps. She stumbled, grabbing his arm with one hand to steady herself. The movement dredged up a memory.

  “Get it,” David said, “or so help me God I’m throwing her to the alligators.”

  Matt eased backward toward the galley. He jerked his head in the direction of the sink. “I have to reach under there.”

  David moved his head so it was behind hers, making himself less of a target. Hot breath fanned her neck. He was nothing like the man she’d once known and that saddened her as much as it angered her. “If you come out of there with anything besides a CD, you’ve signed Evie’s death warrant.”

  From the vantage point of the steps, she could see as Matt stooped and slowly stretched his arms into the cabinet. He fumbled for a second and then something ripped, excruciatingly slow. Tape, she realized. He must have done that while she slept.

  Slowly, he stood, the disc in his hand. David trembled. The pressure of metal against her skin wavered as he sagged against her momentarily. Her breath ripped into her chest like a dagger. She had one chance. One. She could do it, could stop him right now.

  She had to do it. It was up to her to save them all.

  She willed her fingers to move. What had Matt shown her? The nerve right below the elbow, inside of the arm, against the bone. Squeeze hard. Mess it up, and he’d blow her head off. Lightning fast, she dug her fingers into his arm, praying she had the right spot.

  David swore, his grip tightening on her as the gun shifted away. The sound as it went off was deafening. She felt the hot breeze of the bullet, the concussion of the explosion against her skin, but she didn’t let go. Matt yelled at her as he shielded Sarah, but the blood pounded so hard in her ears she couldn’t focus on what he said. He’d covered Sarah’s small body with his bigger one, and he looked murderous.

  Evie ignored him, dug harder, felt the instant her fingertips slid between muscle. She squeezed for all she was worth. David’s breath rushed out and he dropped the gun at the same time he began to fall to his knees. She spun away as he fell, kept up the pressure, and aimed a foot at his crotch.

  She only landed a glancing blow, her foot hitting his thigh instead. He grunted. She had balled up her fist and was about to smash him in the face when the boat lurched hard forward. She lost her grip as she was thrown backward on the rebound. She sailed over David’s head and onto the deck, landing in a tangled mess of arms, legs, and pain. The rear deck slammed into her, knocking the breath from her body. She was thrown up and against the rear wall until she found herself doubled at the waist, hanging over the side with the water a couple of feet beneath her head.

  Somehow she managed to claw her way back onto the deck, sliding down the wall until her ass hit the floor. Evie drew in a painful breath and wheezed to get air into her lungs. The yacht listed starboard. She launched herself forward and struggled on hands and knees toward the cabin, her vision wavering as hot liquid burned into her eyes.

  She wiped her face, her hand coming away red. Oh God, had she been shot?

  She struggled not to panic and to coolly assess her body for injuries. She touched her head again, finding it tender. A cut on her scalp. They bled like a bitch. She wasn’t dying; she wasn’t shot. Relief flooded her.

  Where was Sarah? And Matt?

  She groped toward the cabin. Sarah was sitting on the floor, pushing her hair from her face.

  “Are you hurt?” Evie asked.

  “No.” She lifted a shaking hand, dropped it again. “I hit the wall, but I’m okay.”

  “Where’s Matt?”

  “I don’t know. He grabbed the other guy and when I looked up again, they were gone.”

  Evie spun away. A glance up to the command bridge revealed Brianna slumped against the seat. First things first. Evie scrambled up the steps, her heart pumping, her stomach aching. She had to get to the other woman before she regained her senses and got her gun.

  Evie rocketed to the top, then stumbled to a halt. One side of Brianna’s head was smashed in, blood and brain matter sprayed over the console. Evie swallowed a sob and spun away.

  God, she’d never wish that on anyone. Poor Bree. Whatever her sins, she shouldn’t have died like that. Evie went to th
e railing, breathing deeply, trying not to lose the little bit of food she had in her stomach.

  A movement in the water caught her attention.

  David’s blond hair and Matt’s darker head disappeared beneath the surface.

  No!

  David bobbed back up, his head and shoulders above the water. He seemed to be pushing on something, pushing down.

  Drowning Matt.

  Oh God, no! She spun around, searching for the gun, anything she could use, but it was gone. There was nothing. Evie took a sobbing breath, her arms and legs trembling as she stared at the brackish water far below. There were things in there, nasty things, things that bit and stung and killed.

  Matt.

  But, oh God, she loved him and she wasn’t going to let David take him away from her too.

  Evie shot down the stairs and jumped onto the edge of the listing boat, balancing her body in that one last second before she committed herself to what she was about to do. All she had to do was launch herself as far as she could and try to land on top of David and pull him away. She could do it.

  She had to do it. She had no choice.

  Dark, dank water yawned beneath her. The sky was brighter now, but the bayou was still murky. There could be a snake. A gator. Certain death lurked beneath that surface. She couldn’t swim. Not like that. Not after diving into the murk.

  But if she didn’t jump, certain death would claim Matt. David was still above the water and Matt wasn’t.

  Evie bent her legs and sprung into thin air. She was suspended there for what seemed like forever, falling in slow motion. She reached out, stretched her arms as far as she could, and grasped David’s shoulders as she came down hard on the water. The impact hurt like hell, knocking the air out of her for the second time and stinging her skin with the power of millions of tiny needles.

  But she refused to let go. She scissored her legs, got them beneath her and then around David’s waist, dragging him backward with all her weight. It didn’t take much effort, or it happened so fast it seemed like it didn’t take any effort; then they were falling under with David on top of her.

  Panic clawed at her with icy fingers, but she held on and held her breath until she thought she was going to pop. She couldn’t see a thing, but David fought her, twisting, pulling, and trying to get his head above water. He snatched at her hair, jerked hard until his fingers slipped through the slippery strands, then tried to twist again. He got sideways enough to get a hand around her neck, then squeezed hard while she resisted the urge to cry out. She’d gulp black water if she did. Just when she thought it was over, when her lungs couldn’t hold it another minute, air burst into her chest.

  First, she wondered what had happened to David. He was gone, as if he’d vaporized into nothing. Second, she realized she was standing up, that her feet were on the bottom and her head and shoulders were above water. She hadn’t been in deep water at all. She could have stood up at any time.

  But, oh God, where was Matt? Her heart tattooed her ribs as she spun in both directions, looking for him.

  A dark shape moved near Candyland’s ladder. Matt propped a boneless David against the ladder and turned. A shaky breath rattled out of her and his scowl gave way to a smile.

  “I think I’ve got another concussion,” he said.

  She laughed, but it came out sounding like a sob. She fought her way through almost five feet of water, half swimming and half running, and wrapped her arms around his neck and held on tight. Her heart pounded so hard she couldn’t hear a thing he said.

  And then she realized it wasn’t her heart, but a helicopter. She tilted her head back as the police helicopter passed over them. Instructions issued from a loudspeaker, but she wasn’t listening. She was clinging to Matt, loving the feel of his warm wet body against hers, and thanking God he was still alive.

  “I thought I’d lost you,” she said, her cheek against his chest.

  He squeezed her. “You didn’t.”

  Evie closed her eyes. Not yet remained unspoken.

  *

  Detectives Proctor and Odell sat across from Evie and Matt at a table in a room far more comfortable than the one she’d been shown to last night—or was that the night before? She was so tired she couldn’t remember which day was which, or when this nightmare had begun.

  Now, thankfully, it was over. Or mostly over.

  With both hands, Evie lifted the cup of coffee she’d been given, inhaled the fragrant steam, and sipped. Who’d have ever thought office supply store coffee could taste so good?

  Beside her, Matt recounted everything that’d happened since they’d left her mother’s ruined house earlier. Evie interjected comments as necessary, but mostly she left it to Matt. It was up to him to decide how much to reveal about the military’s involvement, so she kept quiet and savored the weak coffee. Best damn coffee she’d ever had.

  Proctor took notes, tight-lipped, but Odell was friendly and effusive.

  “It’ll take time to ID the body, but it seems as if the deceased is actually a George Allen Larson. His mother and David West’s mother are identical twins. Larson was a year older than his cousin.”

  “We still don’t know who killed Larson,” Proctor added. “West claims it was the dead woman.”

  Odell cut in. “But we know that West, Larson, and Brianna Sweeney all worked for Ryan Rivera’s California operation. There was another guy too, a Julian Fletcher. We found his body this morning near Charlie’s Diner. He was shot with a three fifty-seven.”

  “West’s gun,” Matt said.

  “Yes, though we have yet to run ballistics on it.”

  “What about the house?”

  Odell shot a look at his partner. “Unrelated, in fact. Kyle Jenkins was feeling a bit upset over his falling out with Sarah Savoie, so he decided to try one of his homemade bombs in the yard. Except when he got there and realized no one was home, he thought it’d be more fun to set it off inside. For good measure, he turned on the gas. While he was setting the explosion, someone, presumably West, stole his truck.”

  “I hope you plan to keep him locked up for a while,” Evie said sternly, meaning Kyle.

  Odell’s gaze settled on her. He had no trouble figuring out who she meant. “We surely do. Judge Hunt set bail at fifty thousand dollars, so Jenkins won’t be getting out anytime soon.”

  “What about my sister? She’s underage, and he was buying her beer. And God knows what else.”

  Odell looked sympathetic. “Not much we can do about that, really. The only crime he’s committed that we can prove is setting the pipe bomb.”

  Evie gritted her teeth. She knew it would have to be enough, but she was still pissed off that Kyle Jenkins had left her sister in the middle of nowhere after they’d fought. If not for that, Sarah might have never come into contact with Brianna and her thugs. On the other hand, if she’d been at home as she was supposed to be, who knows what could have happened if either Brianna or David had shown up there when she was alone.

  Thankfully, Sarah was going to be okay. The EMTs had already taken her to the hospital to be checked out. She’d be reunited with Mama, and she’d give her statement to the police when the doctors were through with her.

  And then Evie was going to hug her tight and not let go for at least an hour.

  The detectives talked a few more minutes and then left Matt and Evie to write out their official statements. As soon as the door closed, Matt took the coffee from her hand and set it on the table. Next, he pulled her into his lap and crushed his mouth down on hers.

  Evie threaded her fingers into his hair and kissed him for all she was worth. They hadn’t been alone since the ordeal on the yacht. When she was gasping for breath and Matt’s erection pressed insistently into her bottom, she broke the kiss with one hand laid against his chest.

  “If you ever, ever do anything like that again,” he growled.

  “Like what?” She’d jumped into the water to save him, the stupid man. Not that he’d needed saving
apparently. Going under was part of the strategy, according to him. He’d had his cuffed hands on David the entire time. David hadn’t been pushing down; he’d been trying to get away.

  “I told you never to do that to a guy with a gun. It was the wrong maneuver to use.”

  Evie pushed upright in his arms. “Well I don’t think it was. I stopped him, didn’t I?”

  “Plowing into an underwater stump stopped him. He could have killed you.”

  “He was on the way down when Bree wrecked the yacht.”

  “Jesus, Evie, you scared the hell out me. When that fucking cannon went off—holy shit.” He shook his head and twisted a lock of her hair around his finger.

  “Hmm, it was a bit loud.” And she had a powder burn on one arm where the gun had been so close when it fired.

  His laugh was strangled. “Damn, that’s an understatement.” He squeezed her to him, nuzzling her ear. Shivers streaked across her skin.

  “What now, Matt?” She was breathless, aching for him, dying to tell him about all these crazy feelings inside her, and confused all at once.

  His gray gaze met hers. “I know what you said earlier, but I want to go back to Reynier’s Retreat and spend the next twenty-four hours in bed together.”

  She hooked a finger in the sleeve of his T-shirt, fiddling with the material. She wanted to say yes. Planned to say yes. Anything to be with him. Anything…

  “I’m not sure I can,” she said softly. “I have to go to the hospital, have to figure out where Mama and Sarah and I are going to stay now—”

  “You can all stay in the guesthouse. I’ll clear it with Misty Lee, but you need a place and it’s furnished. I’ll be gone day after tomorrow.”

  Evie forced herself to smile. “Yes, I know.”

  His eyes were suddenly flat, haunted. Confused.

  “I told you before that I can’t give you anything.” He pressed a fist to his chest, his voice coming out low and soft. “There’s not much in here, but whatever I have is yours. Except that I can’t ask you to be a part of this life yet. I don’t know what’s going to happen or what the consequences are—”