by Cindi Myers
“Forget about me. Let Erin go.”
She and Duane turned to find that Mark had risen, Mandy in his arms. The little girl had her head on his chest, her arms around his neck, but she watched the others with wary eyes.
“Why should I let her go?” Duane asked. “If she stays you can continue your touching little romance—as long as it doesn’t interfere with your work.”
“Let her go,” Mark said. He unwrapped his daughter’s arms from around him and set her on the ground. “She can take Mandy with her. I’ll do whatever you want as long as you let the two of them go free.”
“No, Mark.” Erin’s words were full of anguish as she looked at him. It hurt to look at her, to think about what they might have had if Duane hadn’t interfered.
He nudged Mandy toward her. “Go to Erin,” he said. “She’ll look after you.”
His daughter gazed up at him, her eyes so like her mother’s he felt a stab of grief—not the sharp, raw longing to be with his wife again, but the dull ache of acknowledgment that their time had passed. He had room in his heart for a new love now, but Duane was determined to take that from him, as well.
“I want to stay with you, Daddy,” Mandy said.
“I know, sweetheart. I want to stay with you, too.” Mark patted her shoulder. “But more than that, I want you to be safe.” He nudged her again and, head down, she walked to Erin’s side. She reached up and slipped her hand into Erin’s, and the young woman gave her a wobbly, wet-eyed smile.
Mark forced his gaze away from them, to the broken man in the wheelchair. Rage clawed at the back of his throat as he met Duane’s smug grin. How had so many people allowed Duane Braeswood’s money and power to bulldoze over everything that was right and just? Why didn’t more people fight back? Why hadn’t he fought back more when Duane first kidnapped him? He had had so much to fight for, yet he had allowed this little man to take everything from him, even his dignity.
“Promise me you’ll let Erin and Mandy go and I’ll build you all the bombs you want,” Mark said.
“But I only need one,” Duane said. “And when it’s done, you’ll have outlived your usefulness to me and I’ll have to kill you.”
Mark nodded. Hearing the words out loud shook him, though Duane wasn’t telling him anything he hadn’t already known. But he didn’t intend to give the madman a chance to end his life. Or to make use of any bomb he might build.
“Mark, don’t do this,” Erin protested.
“Take them into the next room,” Duane said, and one of the guards took hold of Erin’s arm. A second guard scooped up Mandy.
“Let go of me, you bully!” The little girl kicked and clawed at the man who held her. “Put me down.” When the guard ignored her, she leaned over and bit his ear, hard. Yowling, he punched the side of her head.
Mark didn’t remember lunging for Braeswood. He didn’t remember upending the wheelchair and pinning the frail body to the floor. When he came to his senses again he had one knee planted on the older man’s chest, his hands around his throat, the oxygen cannula ripped away. Duane stared up at him, eyes bulging as Mark squeezed.
“Let him go.” The barrel of the gun was hard and cold, pressed against the back of Mark’s head.
“Go ahead and shoot,” Mark said. “I’ll snap his neck first.” He could feel Duane’s pulse jumping beneath his fingers, could hear him fighting for breath.
“Don’t...shoot,” Duane wheezed.
The man with the gun backed away and Mark relaxed his grip on Duane’s throat a little, though he kept his knee planted in his chest and his eyes locked to his enemy’s. “Who has the power now?” he asked.
Hate edged out fear in Duane’s eyes. “What...are you going...to do?” he gasped.
Good question. Mark hadn’t exactly formulated a plan. He’d acted on instinct when the guard had gone after his little girl. “Let Megan and Erin go,” he said. “Now.”
“Do it,” Duane said.
Mark heard movement behind him, then Erin was standing beside him, Mandy in her arms. “Mark...” she began.
“Take Mandy outside and wait,” he said. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
He waited until the door closed behind her, then he grabbed Duane by the shoulders and hauled him upright. The once-powerful man weighed little more than a child, and his legs dangled uselessly, incapable of supporting him. “I need my chair,” he said. “My oxygen.”
“I prefer you helpless.” Holding Duane tight to his chest, Mark turned to the closest guard. “Give me your gun,” he said, and held out his good hand.
The man glowered at Mark, who responded by squeezing Duane tighter. “Give it to him!” Duane ordered.
Reluctantly, the man handed over the large pistol he had tucked in his belt.
“And your keys,” Mark said.
The man passed him the keys. “Which vehicle do these go with?” Mark asked.
“Black Jeep parked on the side.”
Mark took a firmer grip on Duane. “All right, Duane. Are you ready to go for a ride?”
“You’ll never...get away...with this,” Duane huffed.
“Maybe you haven’t figured out yet that I’m a man who has nothing to lose.” He held the pistol on the three guards and dragged Duane toward the door.
Once outside, he moved to where Erin and Mandy waited. He pressed the keys into Erin’s hand. “Take Mandy with you in the Jeep parked on the side of the house. Get out of here. Don’t stop until you get to a good-sized town. Do you still have Luke’s number?”
She nodded.
“Good. When you get to a safe place, call Luke and let him know where you are.”
“What are you going to do?” she asked.
“I’m leaving, too. Duane is my ticket out of here.”
“Daddy, don’t leave me,” Mandy said.
He focused attention on his little girl. “I’m only leaving you for a little bit,” he said. “I’ll come get you soon and then I promise I’ll never leave you again.” He hoped he was telling the truth. “Right now, I want you to go with Erin. She’ll take good care of you.”
She nodded solemnly and looked up at Erin.
“I don’t like leaving you,” Erin said. “We should all go together.”
He shook his head. “It’s safer for you this way.”
“What are you going to do with him?” She nodded to Duane.
“I don’t know yet.” He tightened his grip on the older man. “Though I can think of a few things I’d like to do. I’d like to make him suffer the way he’s made all of us suffer.”
“If you...kill me...you’ll have...a legion after you,” Duane said. “They won’t rest...until...they avenge me.”
Mark wondered if Duane was right. Would he stop Duane, only to have to contend with an even larger and more menacing threat in his wake—a tribe of followers fired up for battle by the image of a martyr?
Mark didn’t have time to worry about that now. He had to make sure Erin and Mandy got away, before any more of Duane’s followers showed up. “Go!” he ordered her. “I’ll catch up with you as soon as I can.”
Chapter Fifteen
Erin took Mandy’s hand and led her around the side of the house to the Jeep. The girl climbed into the backseat and Erin buckled her in. “Are you okay?” she asked.
Mandy shrugged and looked away. Erin resisted the urge to gather her up in a hug. The poor girl had been passed around among so many people she probably resisted getting close to anyone anymore. Erin knew what that was like.
Driving away from Mark was one of the most difficult things she had ever done, but she knew keeping Mandy safe was more important than what either of them wanted. She glanced in the rearview mirror as she pulled onto the street and saw him leading Duane toward the white van.
&nb
sp; “Where is Daddy going?” Mandy asked.
“Not too far, I don’t think,” Erin said. “Your uncle Luke is coming to get him soon.”
“I like Uncle Luke,” Mandy said. “And I like his girlfriend, Morgan, too. They’re going to be married soon and I get to be in the wedding.”
“Oh?” She watched in the rearview mirror as the van backed out of the driveway and started down the street. How was Luke going to find his brother if they got too far out of town? Somebody needed to keep track of him and Duane. And what about Duane’s driver? Maybe a threat to Duane would be enough to keep him in line, but what if he decided to play the hero? How would Mark handle it with his attention divided between Duane and the driver?
She drove to the corner, then made a U-turn in the street. “Are we going after them?” Mandy asked.
“We’re just going to make sure they’re okay,” Erin said.
“That’s a very bad man with Daddy,” Mandy said. “He took me from my aunt Claire and brought me here.”
“When was this?” Erin asked.
“Yesterday. I had to spend the night locked in the back of that white van. They gave me Toaster Strudel for dinner.”
A chill ran through Erin, and she gripped the steering wheel hard to control the sudden shaking in her hands. “Did those men hurt you?” she asked.
“I have a bruise on my arm where one of them grabbed me, but he has a bigger bruise on his leg where I kicked him back. After that the old guy in the wheelchair told him to leave me alone.” She paused, then added, “Mostly, I was just scared and lonely.”
Erin had been scared and lonely a lot in the past months and years. Duane had managed to isolate her even when he hadn’t physically held her in custody. “I won’t let them get to you again,” she said, and vowed to keep that promise.
“Look at that funny car.” Mandy leaned forward against her seat belt and pointed out the front windshield at the burnt-orange VW van puttering along in front of them.
Erin almost smiled. What was Gaither still doing in town? They made an odd parade—the white van, the VW and the Jeep, never driving over twenty-five miles an hour through the gravel streets. The van pulled into a small park, where picnic tables and a baseball backstop were visible in the distance. Gaither stopped, too, positioning his bus crookedly across the entrance to the park. Erin pulled in across the street, and left the Jeep’s motor running.
“What is that man doing?” Mandy asked.
Erin wondered the same thing as Gaither climbed out of the VW. He watched the van for a few moments, then started toward it. Erin had a sudden, horrible vision of the old man being injured in a firefight, or taken hostage by Duane. She rolled down her window. “Gaither!” she called. “What are you doing here?”
He reversed course and crossed the street to them. “Hello, Erin,” he said, his gaze taking in the Jeep and the girl in the backseat. “Is that your friend Mark in the van over there?”
“Yes.” She tried for a smile that conveyed innocence. “What brings you back to town so soon?”
The old man rubbed his chin. “Well, I got to thinking after I dropped you off at the store. I remembered Rosalie was working today, not Shorty, and she isn’t a woman overly blessed with the milk of human kindness, you might say. My conscience started bothering me, so I swung back by to check on you. Rosalie told me your friend in a white van picked you up. That struck me as kind of odd. I knew he must have been close, to reach you that quick, but you hadn’t said anything about him being a local, though maybe I misunderstood.” He tugged at one ear. “My hearing isn’t what it used to be.”
“But when you saw the white van you decided to follow it,” Erin said.
“Something like that.” He glanced over his shoulder at the vehicle. No one had emerged from it. “Right now I’m trying to figure out how you two went from no transportation at all to having two new-looking rides.” His gaze shifted to the backseat once more. “And a little girl.”
Erin sighed. “It’s a really long story.”
“We’re waiting for my uncle to get here,” Mandy said.
“Does he live around here?” Gaither asked.
“No. He lives in Durango. He works for the FBI.”
Time to cut this off before Mandy started spilling their life histories. The less the old man knew about Duane and his organization, the safer he would be. “Gaither, I appreciate all the help you’ve given us, but we’re fine,” she said. “Really.”
“I can’t say I’ve had a lot of experience,” he said. “But I didn’t think the FBI showed up unless there was trouble. Are you in some kind of trouble?”
“We’ll be fine once Mark’s brother gets here.” Erin tried to sound confident. “But I think you should leave, just in case there is trouble.”
“Well, I don’t know.” He shifted his gaze toward the van. “This a lot more interesting than watching Betty can tomatoes.”
“Please go,” Erin pleaded.
At that moment the door to the van burst open and Duane Braeswood fell out. Mark tumbled after him, and the two rolled around on the ground, grappling for the pistol, each fighting for a firm grip on the weapon as it waved about. The driver jumped out of the van also, and pulled a gun, but the two wrestled too furiously for him to get a clear shot.
“Why am I beginning to think the two of you aren’t ordinary hikers?” Gaither asked in a conversational tone.
“That’s my daddy with a very bad man,” Mandy said. “He kidnapped my daddy and then he kidnapped me to try to make Daddy do some very bad things.”
Gaither looked at Erin, his eyebrows raised in question. She sighed. “That about sums it up,” she said. She watched the two men roll around on the ground, the driver hovering over them. “I don’t suppose you have a gun on you?”
“I don’t believe in them any more than I do cell phones,” he said.
Of course he didn’t. “Right now a cell phone and a gun would come in handy,” she said. She could call Luke Renfro on the phone and tell him to hurry up, and use the gun to hold off the driver.
“Looks to me like your friend is getting the better of the old guy,” Gaither said.
Luke straddled Duane, one hand wrapped around the grip of the pistol. The driver moved in closer. “Great. As long as the driver doesn’t shoot him,” Erin said.
“I can take care of him,” Gaither said.
She stared at him. “How are you going to do that?”
He stooped and picked up a fist-sized rock from the side of the road and hefted it in his palm. Then he pulled his arm back and hurled the stone, striking the driver in the head. The man slumped to the ground as if shot.
Erin gaped as Gaither brushed the dirt from his hands. “How did you do that?” she asked.
“I used to play minor league ball,” he said. “It’s been a few decades, but I still stay in practice.” His eyes met hers. “I said I didn’t believe in guns, not that I didn’t believe in being able to defend myself. Now I’ll see if your friend needs any help.”
He strode across the street, and together he and Mark tied up Duane and the guard and stowed them in the van. Erin started the Jeep and drove to meet them.
Mark walked to the driver’s side window. “You were supposed to go far away from here, where you’d be safe,” he said.
“Somebody has to keep an eye on you.” Her gaze met his and she felt the shimmer of heat through her. He leaned closer and she parted her lips, willing him to kiss her. Later, when they were alone, she would tell him how much she loved him, but for now the kiss would be enough.
“Daddy, can I get out of the car now?”
Mandy’s question brought Erin out of her lovesick daze. Mark opened the back door of the Jeep and gingerly pulled his daughter into his arms. Balancing her on his hip, he carried her over to Gaither, and t
he three of them fell into conversation.
Erin unbuckled her seat belt, but she didn’t get out of the Jeep. She smoothed her hand along the steering wheel and fought to subdue a storm of emotions. Of course Mark belonged with his daughter now. The child needed him, and they both needed time to heal. Erin had been a pleasant distraction while the two of them had been thrown together, but now they were back to real life. In real life a distinguished scientist and single dad didn’t have a romance with the stepdaughter of the man who had killed his wife, kidnapped him and his daughter, and generally made his life hell. Erin had been a fool to ever believe otherwise.
Brakes squealed as a trio of black SUVs came around the corner, sending up rooster tails of dust in their wake. The first vehicle skidded to a halt inches from the bumper of the Jeep and a handsome, dark-haired man wearing black trousers and a black quilted jacket jumped out. Luke Renfro looked enough like his brother that Erin might have momentarily mistaken them for one another in a crowd. The two men faced each other, the one freshly groomed in black tactical gear, the other bloodstained and weary, with shaggy hair and several days’ growth of beard. They were like before and after photos of the same man. They stood immobile for a long while, staring, as if trying to convince themselves this moment was real.
“Hi, Uncle Luke.” Mandy broke the spell. “Daddy’s back.”
Luke went to his brother and the two men embraced, the girl sandwiched between them. Luke drew back and looked into his brother’s eyes. “I’m sure you have a hell of a story to tell,” he said. “And I want to hear it all. But right now I’m just glad you’re safe.”
“Duane Braeswood and one of his men are tied up in the van,” Mark said. “You’ll want to check out the white house two streets over, where they were staying.”
Luke turned and signaled to the vehicle that had parked behind him, and a trio of men in SWAT gear piled out and headed for the van. Then he gave a dispatcher the information about the house and told her to send a team in to check it out. “What can you tell us about this nuclear bomb Braeswood is threatening to set off?” he asked Mark.
