Harlequin Superromance January 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: Everywhere She GoesA Promise for the BabyThat Summer at the Shore

by Janice Kay Johnson

  She thought frantically. In the self-defense class, they’d taught that a woman should never go with the man. They hadn’t mentioned the choice of being alone with him or...alone with him.

  And she could see in his flat gaze that he really would do it. At least if she walked out of the house with him, she’d buy herself a few minutes.

  Oh, Noah.

  She prayed Nell wouldn’t come home right now. This man would think nothing of killing two women instead of one.

  Stiffly, feeling a hundred years old, she walked past him. The moment she did, he thrust the barrel of the handgun hard into her back.

  “Kitchen,” he said.

  * * *

  NOAH BRAKED AS close to the front porch as he could get and leaped out. Children’s voices and then a happy shriek came from one direction. The sound of a car door slamming had his head turning momentarily. Had to be at the place on the other side, he realized as he mounted the steps two at a time and leaned on Colin’s doorbell.

  Nothing. The house remained silent.

  Was she huddled in her bedroom ignoring him? Hoping he’d go away? But where the hell was her brother?

  Noah stepped to the side and cupped his hands to get the best view through the window. There was no movement inside at all.

  For the first time, he felt a flicker of alarm. When he’d left her, he’d assumed Colin would be home, or Nell at least. Hesitating only briefly, he bounded down off the porch and circled the house. As he did, he heard the vehicle next door start. Someone was leaving rather than arriving, then.

  The back door stood open. What the hell? Why would Cait have gone out— The sight of the shattered window beside it made his blood chill. What if Colin had been home? They could both already be dead.

  Using his shoulder in case there were fingerprints on the door, Noah pushed it wider and stepped in. He scanned the main living space at a glance, then raced for the bedroom wing. One door was splintered into pieces that hung from the hinges. The terror of that day when he saw that the windows of Cait’s car had been shot out returned in full force. Redoubled, because now he knew that he loved her.

  His heart pounded in sickening jerks as he stepped over the threshold, his gaze going straight to her two bags, abandoned in the middle of the floor. The dresser stood askew, and he guessed she’d been trying to block the door but had run out of time.

  He looked in the other bedroom and the two bathrooms to be sure Cait wasn’t there.

  911.

  No, think. Goddamn it, think.

  When he had left only a few minutes ago, he hadn’t gone far down the road. No traffic had passed heading into town. A few vehicles going the other way. He’d swear there hadn’t been time for someone to pull into Colin’s driveway, park, go around back and break in, haul Cait out and drive away. Whoever this guy was, he had to have been waiting. Prepared to leave if Colin had come home first or come home with Cait? Had he been waiting every day, concealed in the woods surrounding the house, waiting for the one time Cait was alone?

  Oh, hell. Galvanized, Noah remembered the slam of that car door, the vehicle he’d heard starting. He was willing to bet the sound had come from the house to the north. The night of the bomb threat, Colin had mentioned that the owner was rarely there. Noah hadn’t seen a car passing the driveway, heading toward town. He might have missed it—but he had to gamble one way or the other, and he doubted Cait’s abductor would have wanted to get into heavy end-of-day traffic with her sitting beside him under duress.

  Noah wouldn’t let himself think about the possibility that she was unconscious or even dead in the trunk of the car.

  He ran, leaping into his SUV, gunning the engine the moment it caught. Gravel spurted under his tires. He barely paused at the foot of the driveway, accelerating to the left, away from town. Flooring it as he fumbled for his phone.

  Even traveling at a reckless speed for this narrow, two-lane road, he thumbed through contacts until he found her brother’s number.

  Answer, Goddamn it, answer.

  “Noah?” Colin said, his voice already edgy.

  * * *

  “YOU KILLED JERRY,” Cait said. He’d made her scramble in on the driver’s side and crawl over the console to the passenger seat before getting in himself. This wasn’t the silver crossover he had driven the other time; today he drove an almost new dark gray sedan.

  She had both her hands flattened on the dashboard, per orders.

  “Move your hands and I’ll shoot you,” he had told her matter-of-factly before starting the car. He drove one-handed; the other held the gun on her.

  Now she thought in despair that she might as well have spared her breath.

  She tried again. “Weren’t you together in...whatever you were doing?”

  “You know what we were doing.” This time she thought there was a hint of stress in his voice.

  “Burying a body.” She sounded weirdly calm, considering. She was glad, although she didn’t think he cared one way or another whether she was terrified.

  He drove, his gaze flicking from the road ahead to the rearview mirror and back again, only sliding toward her occasionally.

  “He had a soft spot for you,” the man said after a minute or more had elapsed, surprising her. “He didn’t want to admit we had to eliminate you.”

  “Why would you think I’d even seen you that day?”

  “Why take chances?” he said again with the faintest of shrugs.

  Would he tell her his name if she asked? Did it matter who he was?

  In the ensuing silence, she ran over and over again through the steps she’d have to take to escape. Get the seat belt off. Unlock and then open the door. Throw herself out. Which might kill her, but she didn’t think so. He was driving at a careful forty-five miles an hour, not one mile above the speed limit. Broken bones were a risk she’d take.

  Except—what was to stop him from backing up and getting out just long enough to shoot her? There was so little traffic.

  Plus, she had to remove her hands from the dashboard to take even the first step. Unfortunately, he was keeping the gun steady on her.

  Her thoughts were pinging like the ball in an old-fashioned pinball machine.

  Whap. If this was his car, he probably didn’t want to shoot her in it.

  Except she had no idea who he was, and neither did Colin or anyone else. Why would his car ever be looked at?

  Whap. Oh, God—where was he taking her? What if they were almost there, while she tried desperately to decide whether now was her only chance?

  Pricklingly aware of him, she knew the instant he tightened. His eyes narrowed on the road behind them. The air in the car seemed suddenly charged with electricity.

  Cait tried without being obvious to angle herself to see the road through her side-view mirror. Her heart jumped. A big black pickup or SUV was closing fast on them.

  Speeding? Or chasing them?

  Colin.

  She didn’t realize she’d said her brother’s name aloud until the man beside her snarled, “Don’t get your hopes up. We both know he’s got other fish to fry tonight.”

  He hadn’t totally convinced himself, though. He was watching the road behind them more than the road ahead—or her.

  Now, she thought, her muscles bunching, but her eyes stole to the gauge and she saw that his speed was climbing. Fifty, fifty-two, fifty-five.

  The vehicle behind was filling her side mirror, and hope bounced in her. Noah? But how could he have known?

  And what could he possibly do if he did catch them?

  * * *

  COMING CLOSER TO praying than he had since he was a credulous kid, Noah kept snatching looks in the rearview mirror. No flashing lights yet.

  He still didn’t know if Cait was in the car ahead. There were
two people, he could see that much. The scum who’d snatched her might conceivably have already turned off, into one of the several dozen driveways or private roads—or Noah might have miscalculated in the beginning, and turned the wrong direction. This could be a couple of innocent people driving home after a day at work or tourists out for a drive or returning to their resort. But he didn’t think so.

  He couldn’t think of a resort out here, and this wasn’t a particularly scenic drive. The road eventually intersected one that led to Sunriver and thus to Highway 97, but it wouldn’t be a commonly chosen route.

  Noah glanced at the speedometer. He was going seventy but not gaining as quickly as he should be. The son of a bitch ahead was speeding up. Noah’s pulse rocketed. Oh, yeah, the guy was definitely getting nervous.

  Close enough to see the license plate, he hit redial and waited while Colin had the plates run.

  “Son of a bitch,” said her brother. “Ronald Floyd.”

  “The assistant D.A.?” Noah knew of him but couldn’t bring his face to mind.

  “Might be him and his wife on their way somewhere. Or someone stole the car.”

  “I’m making whoever it is nervous. He’s running for it.”

  “Floyd.” Colin still sounded stunned. “Do you have any idea how many drug crimes he’s prosecuted? Even worse, how many he’s declined to prosecute? Damn. We should have been looking beyond the police department.”

  Right that moment, Noah didn’t give a flying you-know-what. All he could think was, Cait.

  “I’ll leave you on speaker,” he said, and dropped the phone on the seat beside him before pressing harder on the gas. Seventy-five. He hoped like hell they didn’t meet anyone coming toward them. Except a cop. A cop would be good.

  Eighty.

  What if, by engaging in a high-speed chase, he endangered Cait?

  Could he risk doing nothing but riding the bumper until the cavalry showed up?

  “Goddamn it, I need help here,” he snapped.

  “Try slowing down. See what he does.”

  He eased up slightly.

  A hand thrust out of the driver’s-side window of the Camry, which swerved, then steadied while straddling the double yellow line. Wrong side of the car if the guy was trying to get rid of an incriminating item....

  Something pinged off the metal of his Suburban. A rock— No. Shit.

  “He’s shooting at me!” he yelled.

  * * *

  FLASHER GOING ON his roof, siren screaming, Colin was already driving faster than was safe. He was gaining on the patrol unit ahead.

  “A sheriff’s deputy is coming from the other direction, but he’s probably ten, fifteen minutes out.”

  Even through the phone, he heard the pop this time.

  Noah swore viciously. “If he gets a tire or my radiator, he’ll disappear.” Then, again, “Shit!”

  Colin hadn’t been so scared since the night Nell had been snatched and he’d had to pursue in a helicopter, praying she’d survive until he got there. If he failed his sister—

  Long experience let him shake off the panic. Use your head. Do your job, he ordered himself.

  “Drop way back, stay in visual.”

  “Not happening,” Noah said with sudden calm. “I’ve got steam coming out of the hood.”

  Colin’s turn to let loose an expletive. Their options had just shrunk to one.

  “Can you force him off the road?”

  “As soon as we come out of the trees.”

  Encouraging a civilian to do something this dangerous went against every cop instinct Colin had. “When you see your chance, do it,” he said anyway, clear and cold.

  * * *

  THE WAY THEY’D been swerving, Cait had long since taken her hands from the dashboard. One clutched the armrest, the other her seat belt. She hadn’t known it was possible to be so terrified and live through it.

  The next shot could go through the windshield and kill Noah. She pictured it, the punch through the glass, the blood blossoming, Noah slumping forward.

  She could grab for the steering wheel. Or lunge across the man for the gun. Was she strong enough? What if they crashed?

  She wanted the car to crash. But, God, they were going sixty miles an hour now. No, sixty-five. Her terrified gaze returned to the side mirror and she saw the black monster of an SUV closing fast again, filling the entire mirror. What was he doing?

  The man beside her snarled something and started to stick the gun back out the window. The Suburban bumped the rear, and the car lurched and swerved. Cait couldn’t hold back a squeak. The man had to grab for the wheel with both hands.

  The swearing was nonstop. After straightening their path, he shoved the handgun beneath his thigh before clamping that hand, too, back on the wheel. Another thump, enough to have the car rocking. She heard a high-pitched moan and realized it came from her throat.

  Ahead the dry forestland ended abruptly, replaced by pasture enclosed in barbwire fencing. There wasn’t much of a ditch. Could she get her leg over the console and somehow press on the brake? Or...or even grab the wheel and try to take them off the road?

  Thump. The car swerved toward the shoulder, and the wheels momentarily skidded on gravel.

  Cait’s thoughts were as disjointed and fleeting as a strobe light. One instant she had her mouth open and knew she was screaming. He was fighting to get the car back on the road. Oh, God, was that smoke coming out of Noah’s Suburban? Please, please, please. She didn’t even know what she was begging for.

  Then, with a rush, the Suburban started to pass them.

  The gun. If Noah forced them off the road, she had to get her hands on it. She would do anything—

  It was alongside them. She turned her head and caught one wild glimpse of Noah’s face, feral with determination, and then metal screamed and the car jolted so hard, her head snapped back.

  The next instant, the car swerved sharply. They were momentarily airborne as they left the road.

  * * *

  NOAH BURNED RUBBER braking. It took him longer than he’d expected to regain enough control to drive off-road himself. The big SUV took a bone-jarring bounce, then grabbed for purchase. The Camry was enveloped in a swirling cloud of red dirt that began to look like a rooster tail. Yeah—son of a bitch, the guy was accelerating, still trying to escape.

  Cait, he thought in agony.

  Noah pushed it harder. He had better traction. He caught up, started to pass, then swung the wheel hard, connecting with the driver’s side. Please, God, let her have a seat belt on. The sedan went into a spin that brought it around to smash into his rear fender.

  The Camry came to a shuddering stop.

  Noah threw himself out. The dust filled the air and his lungs. At last he heard sirens. Keep her alive until they get here.

  The two in the front seat were grappling. Was she trying for the gun?

  “Cait!” he roared, and yanked at the driver’s-side door. Her captor hadn’t been smart enough to lock it. Noah reached in and grabbed, hauling the piece of scum out. He couldn’t do a thing to protect himself when the gun swung his way and barked.

  The pain that struck was so immense, all he could do was try to hold on, to fall on the asshole and use his weight to give her time to run.

  * * *

  CAIT’S DOOR OPENED and she tumbled out, landing on her hands and knees. He shot Noah. Oh, God, he shot Noah. He’ll shoot me next. She found she didn’t care about herself. If Noah was dead, had died for her—

  No, she didn’t care what happened to her.

  Something was screaming. Maybe it was her. She looked around for anything that could be a weapon, but they were in the middle of a sea of thin grass. Her hand landed on a dry cow patty. She crawled forward, around the front bumper, until she sa
w the two men.

  He was pushing his way out from beneath Noah, who sprawled facedown, unmoving. Dead. Oh, God, he’s dead. The man reached his knees and pushed himself to his feet. With a terrible look on his face as he stared down at Noah, he lifted the gun. From nowhere, Cait found the energy to explode into motion. At the last second he saw her coming and started to turn, but she was already midair, her foot leading. It connected with his arm and the gun spiraled away.

  She was falling backward, with him rearing above her, hands extended like claws, his face contorted with rage. For the space of a few heartbeats, time slowed. She saw him that day, staring hard at the fence behind which she huddled. Now. Then.

  She slammed to the ground.

  “Put your hands up! Do it!” The voice seemed unreal.

  The man threw himself toward the gun. Somehow Cait rolled over, thinking she could stop him, but she was too far away.

  Even as he lifted it, guns fired—bang, bang, bang—and he fell back like a rag doll, the red blossoming just as she’d imagined it on Noah’s broad chest.

  With a whimper, Cait crawled to Noah’s big body, lying so terrifyingly still.

  * * *

  “I CAN’T STAND it.” Cait shot to her feet. “Why is it taking so long?”

  Colin rose with her. The kindness on his face had her close to blubbering. “It hasn’t been that long. I know you’re scared, Cait. Just hold on.”

  She was suddenly trembling, head to foot. Her teeth chattered. Her brother swore and stepped forward, engulfing her in an embrace. She leaned on him, eyes dry, trying to close her mind to what was happening somewhere past those huge double doors she could see across the hall from their small waiting room.

  He had to be all right. He had to.

  “I love him,” she whispered.

  “Yeah.” Colin’s voice was as gentle as his arms around her. “I kind of guessed that.”

  “He knew what he was doing.”

  “He knew.” Her rock-steady brother harrumphed a few times, and she knew he was nearly as shaken as she was. One last throat clearing. “I think it’s safe to say he loves you, too.”