by Cassie Miles
Mickey lay against the far side. His hands were bound behind his back. He was gagged, and his face was raw and red. He’d been beaten.
Liam knelt beside him and pulled the gag out of his mouth.
Gasping, Mickey said, “Stanhope Jeweler.”
Then he passed out.
Chapter Sixteen
This wasn’t the first time Kate had knelt beside a man who was close to death.
She held Mickey’s hand and stared down into his poor, battered face. His left eye was swollen shut. Discolored, grotesque bruises distorted his forehead and nose. The flesh below his left cheek was slashed and bloody. His mouth hung slack. His breathing was shallow, but he was still alive.
“Don’t die,” she whispered. “Please don’t die.”
With a tissue, she wiped at the blood on his face. She squeezed his hand and waited, hoping that he would squeeze back.
Nothing. No response.
She heard the ambulance siren. Paramedics rushed into the yard, to the gazebo, and Kate felt herself being pulled away from Mickey. She stepped back, down the stairs. Her hands were red with blood. Her coral shirt was smeared with indelible stains.
As she stood and watched, the shock of finding Mickey sank into her bones. She was cold. Though Liam held her against his warm body, Kate’s chill came from inside, spreading from her heart, turning her to ice. She didn’t dare feel anything.
The paramedics tucked the injured man onto a gurney and placed an oxygen mask over his mouth. Wrapped in a blanket, Mickey looked very small, almost childlike. At this moment, she would have given anything to hear his brash voice, to see him reach up to frame a ridiculous headline.
The team from the ambulance left the yard. Mickey was gone, on his way to the hospital.
“There’s nothing else we can do for him,” Liam said.
“It’s my fault,” she whispered. “I never should have encouraged him.”
“He made his own choices.”
“Not this.” He hadn’t chosen to be beaten. Mickey Wheaton was harmless as a fly. He didn’t deserve this fate.
She placed her hand on her breast. Her heart raced. Her blood pounded. But she was still frozen. The warmth of the late afternoon sun failed to penetrate the ice that encased her—freezing her terror, her anger, her sorrow in a glacial veneer. If all those emotions broke free, she would shatter into a million pieces.
How had this happened? Things had seemed to be going well. She and Liam had the beginnings of a wonderful relationship. Kate was back to work with her mother, planning the summer gala. She’d convinced herself that everything was going to be all right, even if she didn’t regain her memory.
And now? The threat of danger was a reality. Mickey Wheaton had been beaten within an inch of his life.
Liam guided her back toward the house, where Adam Briggs and Molly stood by, ready to help. They spoke to her, but Kate couldn’t decipher their words. Liam’s voice was the only sound she heard.
“Come with me,” he said. “I need to clean you up a little bit.”
Numbly, she followed him into the downstairs bathroom. Liam closed the door.
Kate braced her arms on the sink and stared down at the gold faucets. When Liam turned on the water, she held her hands beneath the spray, washing off Mickey Wheaton’s blood.
Using one of her mother’s embroidered guest towels, he wiped warm water across her forehead and her cheeks. His hands rubbed her arms, encouraging circulation.
“Kate.” Though he stood less than a foot away, he called to her. His voice resonated against the tiled walls. “Can you hear me?”
“Yes.”
“Talk to me.”
What could she possibly say? She looked up at him—the only person in the world who she could trust. “Liam, when is this going to stop?”
“Now,” he said. “It stops now.”
“If only that were true.” She turned away from him, confronting her reflection in the mirror. Her complexion was ashen. Stark horror etched the lines of her face. She was near the breaking point; she couldn’t take any more.
“Listen to me.” He tightened his grasp on her arm. “Kate, are you listening?”
“Leave me alone.” She wrenched away from him. “Damn it. Get your hands off me.”
“That’s the spirit,” he said. “Let’s see another flash of that legendary temper.”
“You want me to be angry?”
“To be conscious.” He snapped his fingers in front of her eyes. “Wake up. Focus.”
She slapped his hand away and blinked. Visual details became more clear. Her fingertips tingled as the ice inside her began to melt. “What difference does it make if I’m focused?”
“You need to be sharp. Intense.”
“Why? Why bother?” Her words spewed in a torrent. “Mickey was sharp. He was clever, and look what happened to him. There’s no way I’m going to be safe. Not here. There’s no real protection. It’s only a matter of time before whoever attacked Mickey comes after me. And you. They’ll keep coming and coming. We can’t get away from them.”
“You’re right,” he said. “You aren’t safe here. That’s why I’m taking you away. We’re going back to the mountains.”
A startled cry escaped her lips. Her blood warmed in her veins. “Can we do that?”
“Up to now, I’ve played inside the guidelines. I went along with the press conference, kept you in town the way Clauson wanted, obeyed the bodyguards. All along, I believed—in my gut—that we had to get away from here.”
“To hide?” That had been her first instinct when threatened—hide from the hunters.
“To gather our strength and to fight. On our own terms.” A gleam flashed in his hazel eyes. He held both her hands, fusing his determination into her. “I’m not going to wait around. I’d like to check out the jeweler Mickey mentioned, but that’s got to come later. We’re leaving.”
“But how?” She was feeling stronger by the second. Taking action—any kind of action—was better than being helpless and afraid.
“We’ll say that we’re going to your house. Right now. Borrow one of your mother’s cars.”
“Impossible.” She shook her head. “We’ll never get away from the reporters.”
“Sure, we will.” His absolute confidence gave her reason to hope. “Because we have a secret weapon.”
“What’s that?”
A slow smile spread across his handsome face. “You’re going to drive.”
“Me?”
“You’re an ace, trained by the pros. I saw how you maneuvered in my clunky Land Rover. Imagine what you could do with—”
“My mother’s Mercedes,” she said.
It was a challenge, but she was up to it. If it meant going back to the wilderness, back to her sanctuary, Kate would drive to hell and back.
OPERATING ON BLIND FAITH that he was doing the right thing, Liam loaded all the information—the records from Rachel Robertson, the RMS financial statements and the maps—into the Mercedes.
His mind was made up. It was necessary to get Kate away from here, to use the same strategy she’d used when she’d fled from whatever trauma had wiped her memory clean. For twenty-eight days, she’d been safe in the wilderness. Her chances for survival were a hell of a lot better in the mountains. She needed to be away from the constant attacks, the ever-present threat of danger.
She slipped into the driver’s seat and fastened her safety belt. Her hands on the steering wheel were steady. When she gazed at him, he saw a sense of purpose in her eyes, not fear.
“You’re strong enough to do this,” he said.
“You bet I am.” Unsmiling, she stuck a pair of Ray•Ban sunglasses on her nose. “Where to?”
“Make sure nobody is following us. Lose the pack, and I’ll tell you then.”
She hit the garage-door opener. The powerful engine in the Mercedes-Benz purred as they circled the drive in front of her mother’s house. Delicately, Kate wended her way through news vans
, camera flashes and police patrol cars.
Predictably, several cars followed, forming a parade line.
“I have an extra advantage,” she said. “I grew up here. I know the roads.”
“Show me.”
He was glad to be wearing a seat belt as she whipped a left. The engine roared as she fishtailed up a winding incline, to a stretch of dirt road where there were no houses. Dried weeds on either side of the road blurred as she raced along the road.
In the side mirror, he could see the other cars falling back. “You’re doing good.”
“I haven’t even started.”
Her jaw was set. Her gaze, steadfast. And Liam knew he’d done the right thing. This was the Kate Carradine who was capable of fighting the odds. With bloodstains on her shirt and fire in her belly, this woman was ready to kick ass and take no prisoners.
Her route through the foothills and back toward town was so circuitous that he couldn’t attempt to follow it. They ended up alone on a side street, with Kate driving at a safe speed. A main thoroughfare was up ahead. Then the highway.
“Go west,” he said. “There’s an airfield past Morrison.”
“We’re flying? Why not just take the car?”
Liam had planned their escape route. “When the news teams realize they’ve lost you, they’ll call in other resources to search. Choppers.”
“You’re right. Damn it!”
“I got it covered,” he said. “I already made arrangements with a pilot friend.”
“When?”
“I set this up yesterday, before Clauson ordered us to stay in town,” he said. “We’re going to fly away in our own little chopper.”
“Do you know how to fly a helicopter?”
“I’m certified, and this one is easy to fly. The downside is that I’ve got to pay this guy top dollar for his time and his machine. This trip is going to cost a small fortune.”
“Worth every penny,” she said.
They left the Mercedes at the airfield and boarded the tiny helicopter. Though capable of holding a pilot and three passengers, it was tiny inside. In the cockpit, Liam donned a headset with a speaker. Kate was outfitted with the same equipment so they could talk to each other over the whir of the rotors.
With a wave to his charter-pilot buddy, Liam lifted off. The foothills receded as they climbed into a sunset-colored sky. He aimed west, toward clouds of magenta with gold underbellies. The flight plan he had filed was for Vail, which was not, of course, their real destination.
Swooping through the air, exhilaration raced through him. They were free. Up here, no one could touch them.
“I love this,” Kate said through the headset. “Are these little rotor guys hard to fly?”
“I could teach you, but not right now.” There were other things to discuss. “Did you ever reach your stepbrother on the phone?”
“He wasn’t answering.”
“Do you think Tom was responsible for the attack on Mickey?”
“Why? If Tom and Wayne were friends with Mickey, they were all on the same side.”
“Not if Mickey threatened to expose whatever Tom was doing.”
“A beating isn’t Tom’s style,” she said. “He likes guns.”
Liam didn’t think any of their upper-class suspects would get their hands dirty in a slugfest. “He could have hired someone. Like those jackasses who came to my cabin.”
“If they wanted to keep Mickey quiet, why leave him alive?”
A beating was an intimidation tactic, a warning to Mickey to keep his mouth shut. The little reporter had discovered damaging evidence. Or he might have known all along.
Mickey, Wayne Silverman and Tom might have started out as a three-way partnership. But what had their initial plan been? Embezzlement? Blackmail?
Liam had to believe the answers would be found when they compared the documents from RMS with Rachel Robertson’s reports.
After the chopper reached appropriate altitude, he veered north toward Grand Lake. From his years as a charter pilot, he knew the terrain by landmarks. There was only about an hour of sunlight left. It should be enough time to reach his cabin.
“We’re on the run,” she said. “This feels like what hap pened to me before. Someone else was savagely attacked, but I escaped.”
“Are you remembering?”
“Nothing specific. The feeling is similar, but I’m not so confused this time.” He felt her hand on his arm, and turned toward her. She planted a sweet, lingering kiss on his mouth. “I’m not scared, Liam. Because you’re with me.”
He hoped her faith in him was justified. His decision to run would surely infuriate the police, the Carradines and Adam Briggs. He couldn’t count on friendly support from anybody.
It was just him and Kate against the world.
As he flew at the edge of sunset, he felt good. This was the way it was supposed to be.
AFTER A BRIEF STOP AT his cabin, to pick up camping supplies and food, Liam directed the chopper toward her former campsite—the place where he first saw Rain. It was extremely fortunate that he hadn’t divulged the exact location of her hideout. He could have done so. At his cabin were the aerial photographs he’d used to find Kate.
Clauson knew about the photos. The local sheriff could put together a search-and-rescue team to pinpoint their location within a few square miles. “We can’t stay here for long, Kate.”
“Why not?”
“If the police decide to search, they have an idea of our approximate location.”
“We could find another hideout,” she said. “I’m good at this.”
“We’re not going into hiding. We’re tracking.”
“We’re the hunters,” she said. “I like that.”
Dusk had settled. If Liam hadn’t flown this route before, he never would have found the spot. It took only a few passes across the wooded hillsides to locate the open field near her cave.
They touched down. The blades went silent. Night’s shadows spread across the land.
Kate was delighted, ecstatic. She leaped from the chopper with a triumphant whoop. “We’re here!”
Even in her sandals, she was sure-footed. In the soft illumination of early starlight, she danced across the meadow. Her movements were wild, primitive and free. She was the spirit of the forests. She was Rain.
His heart beat faster as he watched her. There were practical tasks that needed to be attended to—unpacking supplies, preparing food, camouflaging the chopper. But he was driven toward her.
Nothing else mattered. He grabbed a sleeping bag and joined her in the field.
Her delighted laughter rippled like clear rapids in a stream. When she caught hold of his hand, he felt the primal energy of the earth.
He pulled her into his arms for a long, deep kiss.
She met his passion with her own fierce need. Her caresses aroused him. She tore open his shirt, trailing kisses across his chest.
He unbuttoned her bloodstained blouse. Underneath, she wore a white lace camisole. Her taut nipples peaked against the delicate material.
“Very pretty,” he said. “Matching panties?”
“Of course.” She peeled off her jeans and stood before him. Her undergarments were sultry sophistication, even sexier in the wilderness.
Moonlight unfurled across the meadow as he spread out the sleeping bag amid sweetgrass and fragrant mint. In the vast stillness of a mountain night, surrounded by forests and rugged cliffs, they could have been the only man and woman in the world.
She knelt in the center of the sleeping bag. Smiling up at him, she looked like a wood nymph.
“I want to remember this forever,” she said. “This night. This freedom. And you.”
Kate opened her arms to him. When he joined her on the sleeping bag, she opened her heart. The breeze sang in her ears, gently gliding across her naked shoulders and refreshing the heat of her desire. Pure delight filled her. She had never been so happy.
Their lovemaking took on the s
cents and sounds of the forest. Perfectly natural. Perfectly sensual. Perfect.
He stroked between her thighs. His skillful fingers teased her toward fulfillment. He lifted her camisole, caressed her breasts and her tight nipples. When his mouth joined again with hers, she welcomed his tongue.
He struggled for a moment, digging through the pockets of his discarded jeans for his wallet. “I need a condom,” he said.
“For carrying water,” she said, reminding him of the survival use for condoms.
“For keeping you safe,” he said. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted. To protect you.”
He entered her quickly, and she spread her legs wide, taking him into her body, opening herself to the galaxies of stars that spread across the velvet skies. At one with the universe, she responded to his hard thrusts. She succumbed to the shivering, spectacular pleasure he gave her.
Liam collapsed beside her, snuggled close on the narrow sleeping bag. “A night to remember.”
She hoped it was only one night of many—an eternity of nights in his arms.
Purely contented, she sighed. It would have been lovely to disregard the dangers present in the outside world, but she knew better. They couldn’t hide forever. They had to find the truth.
In his arms, she wiggled until she was face-to-face with him. Teasing, she caught his earlobe between her teeth and tugged. Then, she whispered, “Would you like to see fifty thousand in cash and a small fortune in diamonds?”
Chapter Seventeen
With an armload of camping supplies, Kate and Liam hiked up the incline to her cave behind the boulders. Though she had a sentimental attachment to this place where she’d lived for twenty-eight days, she wasn’t disappointed to find that her tidy campsite didn’t look the same as when she’d left. The indigenous wildlife—squirrels, deer and birds—had rummaged through her hideout like curious neighbors peeking into a deserted house.
The spit across her fire pit had fallen down. Her woven plates were scattered, and her well-swept dirt floor was scattered with pine needles and leaves. Nature had already begun to reclaim this place. Within one season, she suspected there would be little trace of her habitation.
