Deadly Vows

by Shirlee McCoy

  “What happened to you, Ford?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’ve been telling me you’ve changed. I’m starting to think you have. You’re nothing like the man I walked out on fourteen months ago.”

  “I hope that’s a compliment.”

  “It’s an observation,” she said quickly, not wanting Ford to get the wrong idea.

  Which would be what? That you’re still attracted to him? That the changes you’ve seen only make you want to see more?

  “I see.”

  “You see what?”

  “That you don’t want to admit what you feel for me.”

  “The only thing I’m feeling right now is sorrow, anxiety and fear.”

  “I don’t think that’s the truth, Liv.”

  “Maybe it isn’t. Maybe I do still feel something for you. But how can I know, Ford? There’s so much going on, that I can’t even think straight. I just want to get out of these woods. I want to get out of this town. I want to find a safe place where I can think about what I need to do next,” she said, her eyes filling with tears she absolutely could not shed. Tears for lost lives, lost dreams. Tears for what could be but might not ever happen.

  “You’re crying,” Ford said, running a finger along her cheek and catching a tear she hadn’t realized she’d let escape.

  “No, I’m not,” she lied, tamping down on the sorrow that threatened to take hold.

  “Okay, you’re not,” he sighed, apparently as unwilling as Olivia to continue the discussion. “Looks like we’re coming up on a road.”

  He was right. Olivia could see several buildings through the trees and could hear the quiet rumble of car engines. “It sounds like a main thoroughfare.”

  “Let’s hope it is. The busier the street, the more likely we are to find a place where we can make a phone call. Hopefully, Vincent Martino’s men aren’t hanging around.”

  “Do you think they will be?”

  “It depends on how much they want the money.”

  “What money?” Olivia asked, knowing she wasn’t going to like the answer.

  “Special Agent McGraw told me there was a price on your head,” he said so calmly that Olivia wasn’t sure she’d heard him right.

  “A price on my head?”

  “There’s information that the Martino family has upped the amount. They’re probably hoping to avoid the hassle of having to try to get to you during the trial.”

  “That’s a pleasant thought.”

  “Isn’t it? So, here’s the plan. You stay here while I go find us a ride out of town.”

  “There is absolutely no way in the world, I’m standing here in the woods while you go off by yourself.”

  “Hear me out, Livy.”

  “I don’t need to. I stayed in the church in Pine Bluff because it was a small town and I’d be noticed much too easily. Billings is different. There are plenty of people around, and I should be able to fade into the crowd without too much trouble.”

  “You’d never fade into a crowd, Livy. You’re much too beautiful for that.” Ford’s eyes burned into hers as he spoke, and Olivia’s cheeks heated.

  “I don’t need compliments. I need for us to stick together.”

  “And you think I don’t want the same? The problem is, we’re more of a liability together than we are apart.”

  “And we’re weaker apart than we are together. Come on, Ford, you know the old adage—there’s safety in numbers.”

  “There should be, but I don’t think that’s going to be the case for us,” Ford muttered, but Olivia could see that he was giving in.

  It was another surprise, and Olivia filed it away. She’d take it out another time, examine it, try to figure out what it meant. Right now, though, she needed to focus on staying one step ahead of the Martino family. The Marshals. The FBI.

  That was a whole lot of people she was running from.

  A whole lot of people who could be standing on the other side of the woods, waiting for Olivia and Ford to come out.

  She hoped they weren’t.

  She prayed they weren’t.

  But, one way or another, she was walking out of the woods with Ford.

  “Let’s do something about your shoulder before we go any farther,” Ford said, his words pulling Olivia from her thoughts.

  “I don’t have anything to wrap it with, but the bleeding has nearly stopped. I’ll just cover it.” She tried to pull the fabric closed over the wound, but no amount of tugging was going to hide the blood that stained her dress.

  “I should have worn a jacket. Then we’d have something to cover that with,” Ford said as he bent to get a better look, his hair brushing Olivia’s face, the silky softness of it reminding her of the early days of their relationship, when touching Ford’s hair had been a novelty she’d thought she’d never get tired of.

  She hadn’t, but the joy she’d taken in that simple freedom had died a little more with each new hurt and disappointment.

  She took a step back, turning away so that Ford couldn’t see the sadness she knew was in her eyes. For almost four months, she’d been telling herself that she was better off without him. That a clean break was exactly what they both needed. She’d almost believed it. And then he’d walked back into her life, and all the feelings, all the longings were still there, simmering beneath the surface, threatening to consume Olivia again.

  She wouldn’t let them.

  It wasn’t just about her anymore. She had a baby to think of. A child who deserved more than a father who was gone more than he was there.

  “I’ll be fine for now. The cut is covered enough that most people won’t notice. Let’s go. The sooner we get out of Billings, the happier I’ll feel,” she said, hoping Ford couldn’t hear the regret in her voice.

  There was so much more she’d wanted from their marriage. So much more she’d hoped for.

  But hope was cold comfort, and she refused to believe in those dreams anymore.

  Ford didn’t protest as she began walking. Just fell into step beside her. Silent, his long stride shortened to match hers.

  And despite what she’d told herself, despite what she’d tried so desperately to believe, Olivia wanted him there, because being together really was better than being alone.

  THIRTEEN

  Ford didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but finding an all-night convenience store and walking into it without being shot wasn’t it.

  He held Olivia’s elbow as they made their way through the small store. If the cashier noticed anything odd, he didn’t let on. Just greeted them and continued reading the newspaper he was holding.

  “What now?” Olivia whispered, her voice trembling.

  Ford wished he knew. There was no pay phone outside the store, and he didn’t dare use his cell. “We find a phone.”

  As if on cue, his cell phone rang, and Ford glanced at the caller ID, frowning when he saw the name. Special Agent McGraw had some explaining to do, but now didn’t seem to be the time to ask him to do it.

  “Who is it?”

  “McGraw.”

  “Micah?”

  “Jackson.”

  “You should probably answer.”

  “I want to find a phone first,” he said, walking to the cashier and smiling at the man there. “Do you know where I can find a pay phone?”

  “You got a cell phone. Why not use it?”

  “The battery is almost dead,” Ford lied smoothly, not much liking the necessity, but unable to offer the truth.

  “Got a phone in my office if the call is local. Otherwise, you can check the gas station across the road. Seems they might still have one.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate it. I’m hoping to call a car rental company. Do you know if there are any around?”

  “Got a phone book in my office, too. Let’s go have a look. You two from around these parts?” he asked as he walked to the back of the store. Sixty-ish with snow-white hair and thick-rimmed glasses, he moved with a slow,
limping stride that made Ford want to tell him just exactly where they were from—a safe house that might very well be filled with bodies.

  Of course that would mean he’d probably lose his chance to use the phone, so Ford kept silent and prayed the guy would move a little faster without prodding.

  “We’re from out of town,” Olivia said, answering the man’s question and shooting Ford a look that said “don’t mess this up for us.”

  “Thought so. You two’ve got east coast accents.”

  “Do we?” Ford responded, his palms sweaty with the need to shove the poor old guy out of the way and rush into the office to find the phone himself. For all he knew, the FBI had a tracking system working on finding his phone signal.

  “Sure ’nough. Come on in here. Don’t usually let customers in my office, but you seem like nice enough people.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Here’s the phone. Now, let me see if I can find that book,” he said, shuffling through a stack of papers on his desk. Then opening a file cabinet. “Not in here.”

  “I could just call information,” Ford offered, shooting a look in Olivia’s direction. She looked as anxious as he felt. How could the guy not sense that?

  “No need for that. The phone book is here. Just gotta find it.” He opened a small closet, frowned into the dark interior. “There we go. Right on the top shelf. Grandkid must have put it there. Want to see if you can grab it for me?”

  Ford hurried forward, snagged the book and carried it to the desk, offering a quick thanks as he thumbed through he pages. There were several car rental companies, and he called the first one, quickly explained what he’d need, the same feeling he’d had at the safe house clawing up his spine. Something wasn’t right.

  He and Olivia needed to leave.

  Now rather than later.

  But they needed a vehicle to do it. He pulled his wallet out, rattled off his credit card number and then offered a hundred bucks extra if the car could be delivered quickly.

  He hung up, feeling the weight of the older man’s stare as he replaced the phone book.

  “Sounds like you’re in a hurry to leave town. Something going on that I should know about?”

  “I’ve got an appointment in our hometown later today,” Olivia said, cutting off any answer Ford might have offered.

  “Appointment?”

  “With my doctor.” She smoothed the material of her dress over her softly rounded abdomen, and Ford did a double-take.

  How was it he hadn’t noticed the evidence of her pregnancy before?

  Now that he did, he could barely take his eyes off her.

  A baby.

  His.

  Maybe it wasn’t as a bad a thing as he’d once thought.

  “You expecting?” the older man asked.

  “Yes, but we were…in an accident on the way back home,” her cheeks heated, giving away the falsehood, but the older guy didn’t seem to notice. “Well, why didn’t you say so? I’ve got you standing here, when you should be off your feet, resting up for the big day.”

  “I’m okay, I just—”

  “Tell you what. Why don’t I close down for a few minutes? Drive you two over to that rental company? Know right where it is. They’re over at the bus terminal. Shouldn’t take more than a few minutes to get there.”

  “We couldn’t ask you to do that,” Olivia said, as if they had any choice. As if social norms of politeness needed to be followed when people wanted them dead.

  “You weren’t askin’. I’m offering. Needed a break anyway. Lazy grandkid of mine is always late to work. You’d think he’d know by now that eight o’clock means eight o’clock. Not ten-thirty. Go ahead and call the rental place, son. Tell ’em you’ll be there in ten. I’ll just lock the door and we’ll go out to the back lot. Got my car parked there.” The older guy kept up a steady stream of words as he shuffled out of the office.

  Ford wanted to race after him, lock the door himself so that they could speed things along, but didn’t want to do anything to ruin things. They had an escape plan now. All they had to do was follow through on it.

  His phone rang again. This time he answered, knowing who it was without even glancing at the caller ID. “Jensen, here.”

  “This is Special Agent McGraw. Are you okay?” The tightness in the agent’s voice told Ford everything he needed to know about what had gone down at the safe house. It had been bad. Worse than Ford had wanted to believe.

  “We’re both okay. How about everyone else?”

  “Agent Parker is in critical condition. We’ve got two marshals recovering from non-life-threatening injuries. One didn’t make it.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said, his gaze on Olivia.

  “Me, too. It shouldn’t have happened.”

  “How did it?”

  “That’s what we’re trying to find out. Until then, it’s best if you and Olivia return to Chicago. We’ve got more manpower here. We’ve managed to get a trace on your cell phone signal. I’ve got agents in route to pick you up. Stay put until they arrive.”

  “I think we’ve been down this road before, McGraw. It didn’t end well.”

  “This time, the marshals aren’t going to be involved.”

  Ford didn’t bother arguing. No way was he going to share his plan to leave town without agent protection with McGraw. “What’s your ETA?”

  “Ten minutes.”

  Too close for comfort. “I’ll let Olivia know.”

  “And tell her that our top priority is to get her back to Chicago safely.”

  “I will.” After they were far from Billings and McGraw’s offer of protection. He disconnected and dropped the cell phone into a trash can near the desk.

  “What are you doing?” Olivia said, reaching to retrieve it. He put a hand on her arm, stopping her.

  “Leave it. The FBI has been able to trace the signal, and I’m not eager to be found.”

  “What did McGraw say?”

  “One marshal is dead. Two injured. Agent Parker is in critical condition.”

  “Was it Levi?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Will Jessie be okay?”

  “I don’t know that, either.”

  “You folks ready?” the cashier asked as he stepped back into the office. If he sensed the tension in the room, he didn’t show it, just smiled at Olivia and held out a bottle of water and a small package of saltine crackers. “Brought these for you. Just in case. My Ruthie, she was always feeling sick when she was pregnant. Never could go anywhere without a bottle of water and saltines.”

  “Thank you, Mr.—?”

  “Richardson. Luke Richardson. Come on. My car’s around back. Don’t want to be away too long.” He shuffled back out of the room, led them to a storage area at the back of the store and pushed open a door. Cool spring air rushed in, and Ford took a deep steadying breath, trying to clear his mind of everything but the goal—get to the rental company, get a car, get Olivia out of town.

  It seemed so simple, but there were so many things that could go wrong.

  Please, God, don’t let them go wrong.

  He tensed as he stepped outside in front of Olivia. The back lot was empty aside from a blue pickup truck parked close to the building. Ford surveyed the surrounding area, expecting bullets to fly, but nothing happened. Aside from the traffic roaring in front of the building, the morning seemed still and quiet. Nothing unusual. Nothing to worry about.

  But he was worried.

  The feeling of impending trouble wouldn’t leave, and he turned to grab Olivia’s hand, pulling her close and dropping his arm around her shoulder, carefully avoiding her injury as he did his best to shield her from anyone lurking nearby.

  Richardson opened the pickup truck door, motioned for them to climb in. “Sorry it’s nothing fancy, but this is what I’ve got.”

  “We don’t need fancy, Mr. Richardson. Just a ride. And I can’t tell you how much we appreciate you doing this for us,” Olivia said as she slid
into the car. The rip in the shoulder of her dress parted, flashing creamy flesh and bright red blood. Ford jumped into the truck behind her, maneuvering so that he blocked Richardson’s view of the wound.

  “No need to thank me. I’d do it for anyone.” Richardson closed the door, meandered around to the other side of the truck as if he had all day. Which he probably did. It was Olivia and Ford’s time that was limited if the guy didn’t get a move on.

  By the time he climbed into the truck, Ford was ready to yank the keys from his hands and start the engine himself. Only the thought of what that would mean for their escape plan kept him from doing so.

  “Seat belts on?”

  “Yes,” Ford said, gritting his teeth to keep from snapping.

  “Okay. Let’s go, then.” He pulled out of the parking lot as slowly as he’d gotten into the truck, but managed to pick up speed once he was out on the road.

  Ford shifted to look out the back window, trying to see the front lot of the convenience store. A car pulled into the lot they’d just left, pulling up close to the door. FBI? U.S. Marshals? Someone worse?

  Or maybe it was simply a costumer.

  “Looking for someone?” Richardson asked, and Olivia jabbed Ford in the ribs, shooting him a look that said, “watch it.”

  “Just looking. We probably won’t be back this way for a while.” That, at least, was the truth.

  “Pretty place, this. Used to live down south, but gave up on the heat a few decades ago. Montana suits me.”

  “It is a beautiful state,” Olivia said, sounding as distracted as Ford felt.

  Did she sense what he did? The hint of danger that seemed to hang in the air, following them as they sped along the interstate and then exited it. Chasing them as Richardson pulled into the parking lot of the bus terminal. “I’ll pull you up to the entrance. Rental company desk is somewhere inside. Think they’ve got their cars out back.”

  “We really appreciate this, Mr. Richardson,” Ford said, opening the door before the truck came to a complete stop. Anxious to get out and get in the building.