by Barb Han
* * *
“BE STILL,” Dylan bit out curtly. His thick arms were like vise grips around her hips, and it was impossible not to notice the solid wall that was Dylan flush against her bottom. She couldn’t blame him for his words coming out harshly after she’d kicked him in the groin.
If she could loosen his grip, she might be able to break free and run. No matter how much she wanted to confide in Dylan, she couldn’t. The Mason Ridge Abductor had returned, attacked her in the parking lot of her office, and then her father had disappeared after confirming as much and telling her not to try to find him. He’d told her to hide and stay hidden until he could sort this mess out that had begun fifteen years ago. And even though Dylan didn’t know it, she was saving him, too. He didn’t need to get involved and she’d said too much already.
The door was so close. She stretched her fingers toward it. Too far.
Drawing from all her strength, she tensed her body and then jabbed her elbow into Dylan’s midsection. If he could find her, so could Kramer, and her father had said the Mason Ridge Abductor would use her to force him out of hiding.
On some level, she knew Kramer was a pile of ashes, but someone could be using his name to hide behind.
Dylan coughed, ground out a few choice words and then spun her around to face him. His fingers gripped the flesh on her shoulders tightly.
She couldn’t budge. He’d made sure of it.
“Make another move and I’ll ensure you regret it.” He’d bent down to her level. Penetrating clear green eyes glared at her.
This close, his face was all sharp angles and hard planes, with a severe jawline on a squared jaw, intelligent eyes. Good-looking didn’t begin to describe his features. He wasn’t a pretty boy. No, this poster child for strength and general level red-hotness had the rugged looks that came with knowing how to take care of himself. His tightly clipped sandy-brown hair reminded her he was ex-military. No way could she get away from him going toe to toe, even if she was close to his height at six foot. Growing up with three older brothers had taught her a thing or two about her own limitations.
“You’re hurting me,” she angled, hoping he’d slacken his grip enough for her to escape.
“I’m sorry about that. I loosen my hold and you’ll run for it. I need you right here. It’s me, Samantha. I’ve said this before but it’s worth repeating. You can talk to me.”
“Fine. Let me go and I promise not to do anything stupid.” Even if he was determined to get himself involved, she couldn’t allow it.
“And I’m supposed to believe you based on what? Your word?”
“Yes. You are.” Looking into those green eyes, seeing she wasn’t getting anywhere, Samantha decided to take another tack. If he was going to believe her, she’d have to tell him something concrete. And yet he wouldn’t believe her if she did. She could hardly believe it. “Look, I know how crazy this sounds, but Kramer is either reaching out from the grave or someone is pretending to be him.”
He shot her a look that had her wondering if he thought she was crazy. She hadn’t thought about how all this might look to an outsider until then. There was a hint of curiosity in his eyes, too.
“You have my word that I won’t try to run away from you, Dylan. Now let me go.” She jerked her shoulders, surprised when he loosened his grip.
“Tell me something, Samantha. Because right now you look guilty of something bad, something that has you on the run, and if I didn’t know you better, I’d be calling the cops.” As if for emphasis, he picked up his phone.
“No cops. Promise me.” She rubbed her shoulders to bring blood back to them, trying to figure out what she could say that wouldn’t implicate her father. She wanted to trust Dylan, but she couldn’t risk it. If he knew, he wouldn’t walk away. He wasn’t the type.
“Sorry if I hurt you.” He motioned toward the couch. “Sit.”
“I’m fine.”
Sharp green eyes stared at her. He’d been wild when they were young, and there was more than a hint of that same feral tendency in his features now. “We can do this one of two ways. You sit willingly. Or I tie you up until you tell me the truth. Your choice.”
She moved to the couch and plopped down. Anger boiled inside her. Everyone thought that the Mason Ridge Abductor was gone, but he wasn’t. And he was coming after her. He’d surprised her, then called and threatened her if she didn’t meet him after she got away.
Dylan glanced out the front window and then focused those intense greens on her. Eye contact wasn’t the best idea, because when he looked at her, her stomach flipped. Dylan was easy to look at. She wouldn’t deny an attraction sizzled under the surface, one that had been simmering since before high school. Even with his bad-boy reputation, she’d always known there was something good about him deep inside.
“I was careful not to leave a trail.” The blood was finally returning to her shoulders. Bruising would be the least of her problems.
“Your lack of a path helped narrow the search. You were somewhere within driving distance because you used your car. I also knew you’d want an internet connection. Austin’s your favorite city, so I took a chance. From there, all I had to do was figure out which house you’d rented.”
She’d been that transparent? So much for thinking she could hide. Frustration burned through her. Too bad she didn’t have the criminal tendencies of her mother’s side of the family.
“I’m truly sorry about earlier. You know I would never hurt you on purpose,” he said.
She did know. Dylan was a good guy.
“I’m going to ask you again. What’s going on?” His brow arched and he was examining her face as if her head was about to start spinning.
Could she risk telling Dylan anything else? He already looked ready to strap her into the first straitjacket he could find. And what if she told Dylan what she feared? That her father was somehow involved or at least covering for someone else that night Rebecca and Shane had gone missing fifteen years ago? Or that if she shared what she feared, Dylan would be in this as deeply as she was?
The crackle of a branch breaking sent both of them to the front window.
“Don’t let anyone see you.” Dylan pulled her down, his strong hands firmly on her hips.
In the street, the screech of tires sent her adrenaline into overdrive. “We can’t stay here.”
Dylan opened the curtain in the front window and cursed. “I can’t help you if I don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into. You haven’t given me anything to work with yet.”
“I don’t know who I can trust anymore. All I know is this whole thing is bigger than we originally thought.” Kramer was believed to have acted alone. What if he hadn’t? What if others had been involved in the crime or the cover-up?
“What ‘thing,’ Samantha? What are you talking about?” He stared at her for a long moment.
Could she tell him? She wanted to talk to someone. The past four days had been terrifying alone. She shook her head.
“This is a college town. There are people everywhere, so the noise outside might be nothing.” Dylan’s voice came out in a whisper as he surveyed the area through the windows.
She had to admit, having Dylan with her steadied her fried nerves. “Do you really think I’m crazy? Or involved in something illegal?”
“No. But I’ve never seen you this scared.” Dylan held out his hand. “Come back to Mason Ridge with me and we’ll sort this out.”
“I can’t go home.” She didn’t take it.
“You can stay at my house.” His expression had her thinking he believed she needed to be locked up in one of those high-priced sanctuaries by the ocean rather than his place, but to his credit, he didn’t say it.
Even so, she dared to allow a small bubble of hope to expand, the first since this nightmare had begun a week ago.
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Another crunch noise came from just outside the glass.
“Stay down.” His gaze ping-ponged from her to the window as he tightened his grip on the handle of his gun. His movements were assured, graceful.
Even with him there, Samantha couldn’t relax. Not when a man could reach out from the grave, as Kramer had. What if the guy really was dead and all logic said he was? What if someone else was involved? How big could this thing be?
The little bubble of hope burst. Despair pressed heavy on her chest.
“Several men are headed this way.” The concern in his voice was enough to fry what was left of her nerves. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“I told you everything.”
“I asked this before and I’m going to ask it again. Are you involved in something illegal?”
“No.”
“Drugs?”
“That would be illegal.”
“Is someone forcing you to do something you don’t want to? Are they coming?”
“It’s not like that.”
Dylan scooped his cell off the floor next to her. “Obviously, there’s something else at work here. I don’t like this one bit.”
With him on her side, she might have a chance of fighting back. Grabbing money from her account and disappearing had been a knee-jerk reaction. She could see how that might make her look guilty of a crime.
“You need to get away from me before anyone sees you.” Samantha hated the panic in her voice—the panic that had been beating in her chest like a drum since this ordeal had begun. The person claiming to be Kramer had been clear. Involve anyone else and he’d hurt them and everyone they loved.
“Do you trust me?”
She looked into his sharp green eyes. God help her, but she did. Of course, there weren’t a lot of options at the moment. “Yes.”
“Then, let’s get out of here.” He tucked his cell in his duffel.
“How do you plan to do that?” she asked.
The crack of a bullet split the air.
Chapter Three
Before Samantha had time to argue, Dylan had her on the floor. He needed to find cover in order to put mass between the two of them and the shotgun blasts firing toward them. He urged Samantha forward, crawling on hands and knees toward the kitchen. The feel of a body like hers underneath him, especially the way hers fit his, gave him a thrill of sexual excitement, but right now he didn’t need his body reacting inappropriately. Nor did he need the distraction.
The three-foot crawl space between the fridge and the wall in the kitchen would offer some shield. Guiding her there, he followed. “Do everything I say.”
Her cobalt-blue eyes were wide when she nodded.
Time to move.
Dylan shouldered his duffel and entwined Samantha’s fingers in his, ignoring the pulse of electricity vibrating up his arm. His vehicle was parked two streets over. If they could make it out of the back of the house, circle around and cut across the street, they had a chance to break free.
He carefully zigzagged through the bushes along the path, hoping like hell they didn’t run into whoever was shooting at them. With any luck, the shooter would be inside the house by now.
The glint of metal shone between houses directly across the street. That was what he got for wishing.
Dylan squinted against the bright sun, tucked Samantha behind him and ran like hell, darting side to side as he crossed the street.
Halfway across, a bullet struck the center of his chest, knocking the wind out of him. The impact, equivalent to being hit with a rubber mallet, knocked him back. He stumbled a few steps before falling on his backside and then scrambling behind a car so he could catch his breath. The Kevlar he wore kept the slug from piercing his chest.
Samantha’s scream made the hair on his neck stand up. She obviously thought he’d been shot. And he had been. But it was okay.
She dropped down next to him.
There was no time to explain, so he gripped her hand tighter. Dylan dragged in a few breaths, and then pushed on, hoping the shooter hadn’t readjusted, ready to fire another round.
Dylan guided them in between the buildings.
Forging ahead, he cleared another block and palmed his keys. His vehicle was in sight when he disarmed the alarm and unlocked the doors remotely.
If he could get the pair of them out of there, they had a chance at escape.
Dylan let go of Samantha’s hand in time for her to dash around to the passenger side and get in. She sat there, stunned.
Out in the open like this, they were extremely vulnerable to attack.
Key ready, Dylan fired up the engine and peeled out of there.
“You’re going to be fine.”
“They shot you.” The disbelief in Samantha’s voice indicated she hadn’t had time to process everything that had just happened. It was a lot for a civilian to take in, and she was doing better than expected.
“I’m good. See.” Dylan used his right hand to pull up his shirt enough for her to see his thin Kevlar vest. His left gripped the steering wheel as he wound through the residential area and away from the shrieking sirens. His focus had to be on the road as he assessed everyone they passed for potential threat. “I’ll end up with a nasty bruise. That’s all.”
“Okay.” That one word was spoken soft and small, almost without air. Her vulnerability pierced a different set of his armor.
He dropped his shirt and returned his hand to the steering wheel, checking the rearview to see if they had any company. So far, so good. One wrong turn and the story could change drastically. “We need to find the closest police station.”
“No, please. He’ll find my father if I involve the law.” The desperation in her voice had him thinking twice.
“Samantha, we were just shot at. You’re scared beyond belief. I believe you when you say you aren’t involved in anything illegal. So let’s go to the police and get protection.”
“As soon as this car slows, I’ll jump out. You shouldn’t be part of this.” She gripped the door handle. “Promise you won’t go to the cops.”
“Tell me why not.” That was the second time she’d specifically insisted he shouldn’t be involved. What the hell was that all about?
“I already did. He’s going to kill my father.”
“Who is?”
“Thomas Kramer, the Mason Ridge Abductor.”
“He’s dead, Samantha. He can’t hurt you.”
“You asked about the phone calls before.” Her voice sounded resigned.
“And?”
“I was walking home from work last Tuesday. It was late. I stayed to finish up a project and was the last one to leave the office. Someone jumped me. I was shocked, scared, but I fought. I somehow managed to get away.”
“Did you report it?”
“Of course. The police said it was most likely an attempted robbery. At first I thought the whole incident was random, too. When I told my father, he started freaking out. Made me promise not to leave my condo. Begged me not to get the police or anyone else involved. Said he’d make everything right. Told me to give him a little time and that he’d done a bad thing. I didn’t know what to think or do. I panicked. Took a few vacation days and didn’t leave my condo. Then the phone calls started. Someone saying he was the real Thomas Kramer said he wanted to meet. Said he had something of mine. He said if I involved the police, he’d kill me and my father. I stopped answering. When a stranger knocked on my door, I panicked again. I gathered a few of my things, waited for the guy to leave and then took off.”
“Sounds as if someone is hiding behind Kramer’s name. There’s a cell phone in my duffel. I need you to take it out,” he said.
“Please, no. Don’t call the police.”
“I won’t.
Not until we figure this out.”
“Not ‘we.’ I need to lie low until I find a way to reach my father.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Samantha.”
“You can’t be here.”
“Why not? Whoever is doing this can’t hurt you or me. We’ll get to the bottom of it. I’m not leaving until we figure this out. I need to make a call to arrange a place for us to stay. Will you get me the phone?”
She blew out a sharp breath but didn’t immediately move.
“I’m your only chance, Samantha. You need to decide.”
“Okay. Fine. Where is it? Here?” She pointed to one of four zippers on the front of the pack.
“Inside the main compartment.” He didn’t take his eyes off the road. She’d find other things in there, too. Another gun. A hand grenade. Things she could use against him if she completely freaked.
“I found it.” Her delicate skin had gone pale. She looked exhausted.
“Look in the contacts for Brody.”
“Got him.”
A helicopter flew overhead.
Dylan glanced over at Samantha in time to see her hand shaking.
She drew in a breath.
“Call Brody and put this on speaker.” Dylan searched his rearview. So far, no one had followed them. He banked a U-turn.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“Not on I-35. Whoever that was will be expecting that. And we don’t know how many people are involved.”
“Won’t he scour the city until he finds us?”
“He’ll try.”
Brody answered on the first ring. “What’s going on?”
“You’re on speaker and I have Samantha in the car.”
“Is she okay?”
“Yes.”
“Rebecca will be so relieved. She’s been worried sick. You guys heading home?” Brody asked.
“Can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Long story, but we need your help.” He didn’t want to repeat everything that Samantha had told him. It would only dredge up bad memories for Rebecca, especially since this couldn’t be Thomas Kramer. Thomas Kramer had acted alone. And Thomas Kramer was dead. Not to mention the fact that he was part of the breakdown crew for a traveling festival. Not exactly someone who had the connections or money to hire men like the ones who’d come after Samantha. The only person in town who could financially back an operation like this would be someone like Charles Alcorn, the town’s wealthiest resident. But it couldn’t be him.
