Sun Storm
Page 5
She felt as if she’d been slapped. She wanted to question David’s logic and find some flaw in his reasoning. She tried to put the pieces from the last six hours together. “Professor Hargreaves—”
“Who’s Professor Hargreaves?”
She hadn’t realized she’d spoken aloud until he asked the question. “I was supposed to meet him today, but he was killed in a car accident last night.”
“Are you sure?”
“That’s what Detective Ramirez said.”
“Who the hell is Detective Ramirez?”
“He’s with the Granite City-Elkhead County Police. He—”
“You were supposed to talk to Callaghan.”
“He was there, but a home invasion doesn’t fall under FBI jurisdiction.”
“Callaghan, you by-the-book son of a bitch.” He punched the stirring wheel.
She flinched, but kept silent.
“Is there anyone else who knows about your work?”
“Sure. Lots of people know about it, but…”
“But what?”
“Most of my colleagues don’t believe my research is valid. I’m considered a dilettante.” Coming to Montana was her chance at redemption, an opportunity to prove the lies and scandal from her past were unfounded, and her ideas and research were groundbreaking.
“A dilettante?”
“It means—”
“I know what it means. It means that everyone thinks your ideas are half-baked. Where does this professor fit in?”
“I contacted him and asked him to read my paper on semiconducting materials with photovoltaic properties. He must’ve liked what he read because he asked to see my research.”
“Don’t you have any lab assistants or anything like that?”
“No, I built a lab in my garage. I’ve been working alone, funding my own research.”
“The only person who took an interest in your solar panel is dead?”
“It would appear so, yes.”
“Shit.” He stepped on the gas, once again zigzagging through the morning traffic.
“Would you stop swearing? She didn’t like his brusqueness. He was terse and gruff. He put her on edge in more ways than one.
“Stop swearing?” He pinned her with his icy green gaze. “People are shooting at us, and you’re worried about a few curse words. Well fuck me. In fact, fucking, fucking, fuck, fuck. How’s that for swearing?” He hammered his fist on the steering wheel again.
“Stop the car. I want to get out here.” She shifted toward the passenger door in an attempt to distance herself from him.
“No.”
“No?”
“Do you think the men with the guns don’t know how to drive? They will come after us.”
“There is no ‘us.’ For all I know, they are after you, and this violence has nothing to do with me.”
“Nothing to do with you,” he shouted. “This is all about you. They want to destroy you and your fucking solar panel.”
“You’re the one who broke into my cabin. I didn’t make you associate with criminals. And for the record, my life hasn’t been all sunshine and flowers since you crashed through my door,” she shouted back, shocked by her own reaction. What was wrong with her? She never argued, raised her voice, or confronted anyone. David was making her crazy. It was the only explanation. For some reason, she had no problem arguing with him. Maybe it was because he was so aggravating.
“No kidding, lady.”
She pointed a finger at him. “And I’m really sick of you forcing me into cars.” It was as if all her fear and stress were curled in her chest waiting for an outlet, and he was it.
“What?”
“I’ve known you for less than twelve hours, and you’ve pushed me into a vehicle three times.” She knew she was being unreasonable, but couldn’t stop.
He rolled his eyes. “Where are my manners? The next time someone’s trying to kill you, I’ll just politely ask if you’d like to get in my truck. Do you want me to curtsey while I’m at it?” He shouted the last part.
“There’s no need for sarcasm.” She sat straight, folding her hands in her lap, hoping if she gained control over her body, then she would gain some much needed restraint over her emotions.
“I think there is, and do up that window. It’s freezing in here.”
She did as she was asked, but only because her fingers were numb with the cold.
They reached the city limits where the town gave way to the treed foothills of the Rockies. She could tell they were heading west because the white tips of the mountains edged the horizon.
David took the on-ramp for the highway and turned south. This whole situation was insane, staggering and totally out of control. Surprisingly, she felt better, as if the argument had been a safety valve releasing some of her pent-up fear and confusion.
With the window closed, she was enveloped by the intoxicating scent of soap, honey, and man. Her body clenched in a nerve-jarring sensual reaction. He shouldn’t be allowed to smell so good that she responded to him in this deep, spine-tingling way. Behind the unkempt, long hair, beard, and scarred face, he struck her as being utterly male. He threw her off balance. The logical part of her brain registered that her attraction was just a physical response to his pheromones and an emotional backlash in the face of danger, nothing more. She needed to get away from David and the conflicting responses that came from being in his company. He made it hard for her to think and consider what to do in the aftermath of this latest catastrophe. She closed her eyes and pictured her lab and small, cozy house in Seattle. It was modest, but she had spent some of her inheritance ensuring that it was well maintained and filled with comfortable furniture. Above all, it was home. She wished she were there now, safe in her sanctuary, away from men with guns, policemen, and a virile ex-soldier.
“I want you to let me go,” she demanded.
“I’m not holding you against your will. Marshall Portman is trying to kill you, and I’m trying to save you. You do remember the man with the gun back there, don’t you?”
“Why aren’t we going to the police?”
“I heard Portman say he owns the Granite City-Elkhead County police. We can’t trust them. I can’t drop you off at the police station like I did before. We need to get out of town—”
“Take me to the airport.”
“What?”
“You heard.” This nightmare was fast becoming ludicrous. It was illogical to think that someone would go to such great lengths to hurt her. Although, Handsome had shot at them, or maybe he was shooting at David, and she just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Either way, this whole situation was completely irrational.
“That’s a terrible idea.”
“No, it’s not. I can contact the police in Seattle and fill out a report there.” She hadn’t thought it through, but as soon as she said the words, she realized how reasonable they seemed, especially when compared to the absurd situation she was in now. She’d studied a map of Elkhead County when she’d arrived. Canada lay to the north and the Idaho border was in the Rocky Mountains to the west. From what she could remember, the county spanned a large area with terrain that included lakes, mountains, and federal and state parks. Maybe they could drive to the nearest large city and file a report there, but that would take hours. Getting on a flight was her quickest way out of here.
“I still don’t think—”
“Are you forcing me to go with you?”
“No,” he sighed, “but for the record, I don’t think going to the airport is a good idea.” He sounded calm, less combative.
“Why not?”
“Because it’s a corral where you get herded through specific doors. There’s no leeway, no other avenues to take. Plus you need to give a valid ID when you travel. There will be a record. There’s a good chance Portman and Harper will know where you’re going and what time you’ll get there. They could be waiting for you as you get off the plane. Is there anyone who can meet you
? Someone who can handle themselves?”
“My father. He’s a lawyer. He’ll know what to do.” She pictured her only living relative at his desk in the penthouse of his downtown Seattle office building that overlooked Puget Sound. On a clear day, he could see Mount Rainier.
“A lawyer, huh.”
“He’s also a man who knows people. If anyone can fix this mess, it’s him.” She didn’t add that her father hadn’t returned her recent phone calls. More importantly, he was a detached man who liked working more than spending time with his only child.
David blew a long breath between pursed lips “Must be nice.”
“What must?”
“To have a rich daddy to look after you.”
Marie ignored his remark. Her relationship with her father was one-sided. She believed he loved her deep-down, but he wasn’t a man given to displays of emotion. She dialed his number, praying he would answer her call.
“Wilson.” Her father’s curt voice answered on the first ring.
“Daddy, it’s me. I’m in trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?” The telltale flick of papers told her she did not have his undivided attention.
“Someone’s trying to kill me. They burst—”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You haven’t left your lab for years. Why would anyone want to hurt you? Is this an attempt to get me to finance that damn thing of yours? I told you it’s time to move on.”
Her heart sank. He didn’t believe her. “They broke—”
David snatched the phone out of her hand. “Sir, my name is David Quinn. I want you to listen. Your daughter’s in deep-shit over this solar panel.”
Marie tried to snatch her phone back, but David blocked her by lifting his elbow.
She reached for the phone. “Will you give me that?”
“Be quiet.” He gave her a cold, hard stare.
“Don’t give me that look. It doesn’t frighten me,” she spat and then realized the truth of her words. She wasn’t scared of him. Moreover, she argued with him when she didn’t argue with anyone. That somehow seemed significant, but at this moment she couldn’t figure out why.
“Look, we don’t have much time before they put a trace on our phones. I need him to listen.”
“Oh.” Trace our phones. This sounded like something out of a movie.
He lifted the phone to his ear. “Sir, do you have contact with anyone who can protect your daughter.”
David was silent for a minute.
“Granite City, Montana. I estimate we have about thirty minutes tops before they track us down—”
He listened again.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea—”
She couldn’t hear her father’s part of the conversation, but David held the phone at arm’s length and stared at it as if it were an alien, then held the phone to his ear once again. “Listen, I will put her on the next available departure heading west. She will call with her flight number. Have at least two security personnel meet her at the airport. Men you trust, or better yet, meet her yourself.” He didn’t wait for an answer. Using his thumb, he pressed the disconnect button, ending the conversation.
“I hadn’t finished talking to him.”
“We’re out of time.”
She stared out the window, hoping he wouldn’t see the hurt look she knew was in her eyes. Her father didn’t believe she was in danger. He thought she was pretending to be in trouble in order to obtain money. Her heart ached as she was reminded her father didn’t know anything about her.
Keeping a hand on the steering wheel, David slid the back off the phone, pried out the battery and SIM card, and placed all three in his pocket. Then he grabbed his flip phone out of his pocket and followed the same procedure, removing the battery and the SIM card, his movements smooth and practiced.
“What are you doing? That’s distracted driving. You should be concentrating on the road.”
“I can multitask. Besides, there are no distracted driving laws in Montana. It’s important they don’t use our phones to trace us. I’ll put them back together later and give them a false trail to follow.”
“I need my phone. It holds my contacts, emails, and all sorts of other pertinent information. More importantly, I can’t afford to replace it.”
“You can buy a prepaid cell from Walmart for ten bucks. There’s nothing that can’t be replaced.”
His idea of a phone was vastly different from hers. But she would gladly sacrifice it to ensure she never came face to face with the men from the cabin again, especially if he was right about their ability to track her. “Do what you have to.”
He grimaced. “Listen, I want you to be wary on this flight. Don’t talk to anyone. That includes little old ladies and children.”
“Children?”
“Yes, you’d be surprised what a child can be persuaded to do.”
“That’s sad.” Marie continued to stare out the window as David took the exit off the highway that led to the airport. She had to wonder if her father cared enough to obey David’s instructions. If he didn’t, then once she landed, she was on her own, but that was nothing new.
Chapter Eight
David glanced at Marie as he parked his truck in the short-term parking. Every muscle, every sinew of her small body seemed coiled tight.
“You should’ve just dropped me off.” She opened the door of the truck with one hand, while the other hand clutched the strap of her black backpack. Her gaze drifted to the terminal building.
“I’ll walk you to security.” She royally pissed him off. He’d put himself on the line to protect her, and she couldn’t wait to get away from him, as if he were a lower form of life. Never mind that he’d saved her pretty little butt. One look at him, and she wanted to get as far away as possible. It wasn’t that he expected or wanted her gratitude. He’d done what he’d done because it was the right thing to do. He’d learned that a man had to be able to live with himself and the consequences of his actions. He had a hard enough time living with his memories. He didn’t want to add her death to his overburdened conscience.
Portman’s betrayal screwed with his ability to think. How could he have been so blind? He should have seen it. Portman’s incessant phone calls. The pleas for help. It was all a ruse.
Marshall figured David was expendable in his present condition. Well hell, he’d always been expendable. That was why he’d been sent from one hellhole to another, to kill and be killed for his country. He didn’t want thanks for that either. He’d been proud to serve. Even if it hadn’t ended well.
He sighed. He shouldn’t have lost his temper and sworn at her. It had been petty and small, but her prissiness in the face of mounting danger had touched a nerve. Maybe parting ways was for the best. He was just getting his life back together, and the last thing he needed was trouble, especially when it came in the form of a beautiful, curvaceous, naive scientist. He would get her on a flight out of here and then call Finn and arrange a meeting.
Clutching her backpack, she walked around the front of his truck and then stopped. “Thank you for everything. It’s all so—so…”
“It’s a lot to take in,” he said, letting her off the hook as they made their way through the ice-covered parking lot.
“Yes, it is.” Bluish-purple shadows darkened the skin under her eyes. She was traumatized by the night’s events. It would take a while for her to recover.
If he considered things from her perspective, then he probably did seem menacing, especially with his scar. Maybe she thought he was as ruthless as the men he’d arrived with. She would be right—he was a bastard. He just didn’t kill people anymore.
He clasped Marie’s cold hand as they headed across the one-way street that separated the Granite City airport from the parking lot. Her touch comforted him, and he was gratified when she didn’t pull away. Instead, she squeezed his fingers, tightening her grip.
Like most civilian airports, it was a newer glass and steel structure with baggage
claim on the ground and flight departures on the first floor.
“I just don’t understand why anyone would want to hurt me.” Marie kept pace, still clutching her bag in her free hand.
“Did you steal the solar panel from Portman?” Somehow he couldn’t picture her a thief. She seemed too innocent, but he wanted there to be a reason, some rationale behind his friend’s betrayal.
“I didn’t steal anything. My panel is in existence because I thought it up and did the research and experiments to make it happen.”
“There’s more to owning an invention than actually conceiving it. You have to patent it and go through a lot of legal loopholes.”
“Not that this is any of your business, but I had a problem in the past, which is why my father took over my legal affairs. I funded all the experiments, materials, and research myself. The solar panel is mine.” She tipped her small, delicate nose in the air as if she had a whiff of something distasteful.
He ignored her snippy answer. “What kind of problem?”
“I’m sorry?”
“You said you had a problem in the past,” he asked as they entered the building and rode the escalator up to departures.
“I developed a small solar charger that could be attached to any window and generate enough electricity to power a computer. It could fit into the palm of your hand.” Her eyes sparked with renewed energy as she talked.
“Sounds useful.” He let go of her hand as they approached the automated check-in computer.
“I thought so.” She rummaged through her bag, searching for ID.
“What happened?”
“I was in university at the time, and my professor took credit for it.” She pressed her lips into a thin line and averted her gaze, giving him the impression there was more to the story.
She produced her driver’s license from her bag. “Legally, there was nothing I could do. I was in his department under his supervision. Once I graduated, I decided to work for myself so there would be no doubt who owned my creation. This solar panel is mine. There’s a flight to Seattle leaving in twenty-five minutes.”