He stepped toward her, slid into the middle seat next to hers, and snagged her purse from the floor. “I noticed.” He handed her purse over as his gaze swept her face again. “Okay now?”
“I’m fine. Thanks for your help.” Great. She’d managed to arouse his suspicions without even trying. The last thing she wanted to do was attract attention to herself. She had to get a grip.
“My pleasure, but I expect something in return.”
His voice teased, but she waited apprehensively for him to continue.
“I may need you to talk me down off the ceiling the next time we hit turbulence.”
She smiled faintly. “Sure. It’s the least I can do.”
“I’m Grant, by the way.” He stuck out his hand.
“Darcy.”
“I’m pretty sure he’s harmless, but I could hang out with you for a few minutes just to be sure.”
“That’s really not necessary. I’m sure you’re right about him. I don’t want to take you from your reading.”
“That book will be there when I get back . . . unless you want to be alone.” His gaze rested questioningly on her.
He gave her the perfect out. She should take it if for no other reason but to keep him from getting involved and possibly becoming a target. Not to mention the fact she didn’t know him. How did she know he could be trusted?
He came to her aid immediately when he saw her distress, and his fear of flying wasn’t an act. She really was being paranoid now. Would it hurt to sit and visit with him for a while?
She pushed her doubts aside and smiled. “Some company would be nice.”
Grant settled into the seat beside her. “What’s in Portland, Darcy?”
“A rental car, I hope. I’m on my way home to Tillamook.” Doubt fluttered at the back of her mind. No need to tell him her life story.
“You’re kidding! I’m from Pacific City. We’re practically neighbors.” He turned sideways in his seat to stare at her. “You look familiar. Have we met? What year did you graduate?” He went on without giving her a chance to respond. “Ever go to dances in Pacific City?”
Darcy dropped her gaze and the familiar shame warmed her cheeks. “I . . . didn’t go to dances much.” Talk about an understatement. One prom was all it took to learn her lesson.
He watched her for a moment with a puzzled expression before he turned toward the front again. “I worked in Tillamook one summer.”
“Where?”
“It was a small hardware store just off the highway. They’re probably not even there anymore.”
“Maddox Hardware?”
“Yeah. You know the place?”
“Intimately.” Darcy laughed. “My aunt and uncle used to own it. I worked there every summer while I was in high school, except the year I went to see my grandparents in Colorado. That must have been the summer they hired you.”
“That explains why they never hired me back. I thought they didn’t like me.” Grant’s eyes twinkled with humor.
“Don’t feel too bad. I don’t think they liked me very much either.” She grinned. He was easy to talk to and reminded her of things she used to like about small towns. She’d been away a long time and had forgotten what it meant to trust your neighbor or leave your car unlocked or have people you could count on. She missed that and, for just a moment, she forgot all the bad things about small town life and indulged in the nostalgia that crept over her. When she glanced up he was watching her, and heat crept into her cheeks again.
He looked away and cleared his throat. “You live in Chicago? What do you do there?”
“I’m a nanny.”
“Really? Kids and diapers and schoolwork?”
“There’s much more to it than that.”
“You enjoy it?” He cocked an eyebrow skeptically.
“Go ahead. Make fun of me if you want to, but helping children grow up is not wasted effort. I make a difference in their lives.” She stopped when he smiled.
“I’m just giving you a hard time.” His expression grew serious. “I see it’s no joke to you. I apologize.” A second later a mischievous glint shone in his eyes. “Wow! I wish I’d had a nanny like you.”
It wasn’t the first time someone had suggested being a nanny wasn’t a real job, but she didn’t care what anyone thought. She was proud of her profession, even if her father thought she’d wasted the education he’d paid for.
“I didn’t mean to embarrass you, and as for being a nanny . . . I bet you’re a damn good one. We all have to do what we think is right.”
She met his eyes and, just for a second, there was something in his expression that seemed out of place. Darcy puzzled over it but then smiled in relief as he steered the conversation to things less personal. The tension left her body as they laughed and talked. For a little while she was able to forget about Johnny and stop worrying about whether Reggie would follow her. The time passed quickly, and she was almost sorry when the plane touched down in Portland.
Neither of them had checked any luggage, so they walked together to the same car rental booth. Grant was about to step up to the counter when he turned back to her. “Why should we both rent a car? I have to go right through Tillamook.” He held up a hand as she started to answer. “I know . . . we’ve only known each other a few hours, but we don’t exactly qualify as strangers anymore either.”
Yesterday Darcy would have refused the offer without a second thought. Why was she even considering it now? Sitting and talking with him in a plane full of people was one thing. Accepting a ride from him was just something a woman alone didn’t do. She was comfortable with him, however, and felt safer than she did on her own. They grew up just a few miles from each other. He knew her aunt and uncle and had been to football games at her school. First dates were almost always with someone you’d just met and that was considered acceptable. Admittedly, the whole dating scene was out of her area of expertise by choice, but what was so different about this?
“Darcy?”
“It’s nice of you to offer, but I can’t. I’m sorry.” She bit her lower lip and watched him for any sign of offense taken.
“Okay. Maybe next time.” He smiled, walked up to the counter, and was soon occupied with paperwork.
The other window was closed, so while she waited her turn, she wandered a short distance away. People-watching always proved entertaining, and nothing brought out the socially challenged quite like big city airport terminals. Near the baggage claim area, a teenage girl with black hair, lipstick, and fingernails swore profusely and screamed at an older man whom Darcy assumed was the girl’s father. Frustration and hopelessness settled in the father’s eyes.
As he corralled his daughter and moved away toward the exit, another man caught Darcy’s eye. Thirty-something and tall, a close-cut beard gave him a rugged look, his long black hair tied back with a strip of leather. In an army-green canvas jacket, he leaned against a column in the center of the room. Confidence emanated from him in the casual manner in which he looked around the crowded terminal, hands partially shoved in the front pockets of his jeans.
Curiosity and something akin to excitement stirred in her as her approving gaze wandered up his muscular legs to his narrow hips and trim waist, lingering on his wide chest and broad shoulders. When she reached his face, she tensed as steel gray eyes met hers boldly. His lips quirked in a crooked smile, and he took a step toward her.
Fear wrung a tiny gasp from her throat even as she had to force herself to break eye contact. Could he be one of Reggie’s men? Could they have found her already? As she backed away, her gaze darted from side to side. Anyone in this terminal could work for Reggie. Suddenly unable to breathe, she had to get out of this airport. She swung around and ran right into Grant. He held up his car keys.
“Your turn.” He swept a hand toward the kiosk.
“I changed my mind. I’d like to go with you.” The words tumbled out in one breath.
His questioning gaze swept her face before he smiled
and nodded. “Ready to go?”
As she followed Grant from the building, she glanced back toward the man in the canvas jacket. He was nowhere to be seen. She let her breath out slowly and scolded herself for overreacting yet again.
In a parking garage near the terminal, they found their car—a late model blue Toyota Corolla. She threw her bag onto the backseat with his, removed her jacket, and laid it neatly on top. Then they headed out of town, stopping only long enough for Darcy to use the bathroom at a convenience store.
When she returned to the car, Grant handed her a super-sized soft drink in a paper cup. “Thought we could use some caffeine,” He jabbed a straw in his own drink and raised it to his lips.
“You read my mind.” She sucked the sugary liquid through her straw. Trepidation gnawed at her stomach. Accepting a ride from Grant was outside her comfort zone, a decision made in the heat of the moment. He represented no danger—she was sure of that, but still the situation bothered her. Knowing her father would have plenty to say about her reckless and irresponsible behavior added to her unease. The worst part was, her father was right, but she couldn’t insult Grant by refusing his offer now, after he’d been so nice. Besides, she was almost home.
Traffic was heavy and they crept along, waiting for unending lines of cars to get through green lights that never stayed green long enough.
Darcy couldn’t stop yawning. Being up all night was finally catching up to her. Conversation should help to keep her awake. “Are you home on vacation, or are you staying?”
Grant laughed. “Don’t get me wrong. Pacific City is a great place to visit, but I don’t recommend living there.” He glanced her way. “How about you?”
“Oh no. Just a long weekend.”
“Then back to Chicago?”
“Yes . . . uh . . . no . . . frankly I’m not quite sure.”
His expression was sympathetic, and Darcy braced for the questions she couldn’t answer. To her surprise, he didn’t press her.
“I’m a law student at the University of Chicago. I have to be back in a couple of days.”
“Wow. Law school? I would never have guessed.”
He cocked his head toward her. “Not sleazy enough?”
Darcy threw her head back and laughed. “Yeah, that’s it exactly. What kind of law will you practice when you’re finished?”
“Corporate law. My uncle runs a large international business, and he’s footing the bill for my schooling. It’s a great opportunity for me, and I could end up in Paris or Geneva or Dubai. He has connections all over the world.”
By the time they reached the freeway, she couldn’t keep her eyes open. She missed large segments of Grant’s monologue on the job he hoped to have and life at the University of Chicago.
Once, when he stopped and stared at her and the terrible realization she’d missed a question dawned on her, she groaned. “I’m so sorry. I’m having a little trouble concentrating. What did you ask?”
He smiled and kept on talking, and she felt like a jerk. She forced her eyes open and swallowed large gulps of her soda, hoping the caffeine would do its job. But the road noise, the radio, and Grant’s voice all blended together and soon lulled her to sleep.
DARCY WOKE ABRUPTLY when her forehead bounced off the side window. Her hand flew to her head and she opened her eyes, staring in disbelief at the landscape that now surrounded them. Grass, brush, and rocks edged an overgrown dirt road that wound up a steep hillside and disappeared into the trees ahead of them. Where were they? They’d left Portland . . . the freeway . . . the traffic. Wow, her head throbbed. She felt funny—dizzy and nauseous. Why were they in the middle of nowhere? It made no sense. Why couldn’t she remember? She glanced at Grant as he stopped the car in the middle of the road.
“Get out.” His voice was cold and his eyes lacked any sign of friendliness.
Fear flickered somewhere in her groggy mind. “Where are we?” Her words slurred together. What was wrong with her?
“This is as good a place as any.” He reached beneath his seat and pulled out a gun. “Get out.”
She inhaled sharply. “What . . . what are you doing?” As she stared at the cold, black steel in his hand, bands of fear tightened around her throat.
“I’m sorry, Darcy. This wasn’t my idea. I like you, but I’ve got family in Chicago, and when one of them asks for a favor, I can’t say no.” He motioned with the gun for her to get out and opened his door.
Terror, laced with adrenaline, provided her first lucid moment and she finally started to think clearly. Reggie wanted her dead. He must be Grant’s family in Chicago. Grant drove her out here, away from anyone who might witness . . . My God! He was going to kill her. Was he that blindly loyal to his family? She’d trusted him—thought she knew him. The cold determination in his eyes told her she’d been wrong about that. Through the terror that pounded in her heart, one thought ran through her mind over and over again: Don’t make it easy.
The instant he turned his back to climb out of the car, Darcy threw open her door, struggled to her feet, and ran.
The tree line was fifty feet away. Her body moved sluggishly as she stumbled through the brush. She’d never make it to the safety of the forest, but giving up was an automatic death sentence. Ducking her head, she zigzagged around rocks and stumps and downed trees. Behind her, Grant swore. A bullet ricocheted off the rocks to her left. She pushed herself faster. Her chest burned with the effort to breathe. Her foot tangled in the underbrush, and she fell against a log. Pain shot through her shoulder and down her arm, and she stifled a scream. Forcing herself up, she swung her legs over the log just as his second shot slivered the wood two inches from her hand.
Darcy pushed herself away from the log and broke into a run again. She had to keep going. Nothing else was acceptable. Don’t make it easy. She could feel the gun aimed at her back, and she braced herself for the pain that would explode through her and send her crashing to the ground. Five feet from her goal, the gunshot cracked and echoed through the stillness. She almost stopped, so sure the bullet would tear through her. One more stride and then another and another . . . she was still on her feet. Somehow he’d missed.
She broke through the dark forest curtain and kept running. The trees gave her cover for the moment, but it wasn’t over. There was no way he would quit. Obviously, he couldn’t go back to Reggie and tell him he’d failed. Grant would keep coming until she was so exhausted she couldn’t put one foot in front of the other. Then he would catch her.
She had to think—come up with a plan—but her mind was already on overload, panic the order of the day.
Twenty feet farther she stopped and collapsed against the trunk of a tree, the scaly bark scratching her skin through her cotton shirt. No sounds of pursuit carried through the forest, but that could change any minute. Keep going. Don’t give him a chance to close the gap. She rested barely long enough to catch her breath before she stumbled to her feet again. At a more careful pace, she moved deeper into the shadows.
Even if she managed to evade Grant, she was in trouble. Her father taught her how to survive in the wilderness when she was a kid, but she’d slept when Grant drove the car up the dirt road. Plunked down in the middle of a mountainous forest, she was on foot and ill-prepared. If she got too far away from the road they came in on, it would be that much harder to find her way out. It was only about an hour until sunset. The possibility of spending the night here with no light, no warm clothes, and no way to start a fire alarmed her. Wild animals roamed the forest at night. She pushed that thought away. No sense worrying about that unless she had to.
Thirty minutes later, a group of three large fir trees gave her cover as she dropped to the ground and leaned back against one of them, lungs aching with exertion. Her bruised shoulder and arm throbbed with each beat of her heart. She still had no real plan beyond staying ahead of Grant. Should she circle around and try to find the road? Was there any chance he’d given up and left? There was still no sign of pursui
t. She couldn’t keep going deeper into the forest or she’d be lost for sure. No one knew where she was. No one would come rescue her.
She rested longer than she’d intended. A dry branch snapped somewhere close by, and she jerked to attention. Was that . . .? Don’t jump to conclusions. It was just a deer walking by or a squirrel dropping a pinecone from a tree. No need to panic. She drew a steadying breath.
Another crack—closer this time. Whatever it was, it moved toward her. She went still and strained to hear. Was it her imagination or had the birds and chipmunks scurried for cover as well? Frozen in place, she waited, listening. Nothing. There was no one there. She’d let her imagination get the best of her.
Then she heard his voice, deeper and gruffer than his obvious charade in the plane and in the car, and the sudden sensation he was right beside her, whispering in her ear, sent shivers up and down her spine.
“Darcy, it’s over. You could save us both a lot of trouble and show yourself. Don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt you.”
What a load of crap! Did he think she was a fool? That she’d really fall for that? She’d been stupid to trust him, but she wouldn’t buy his hometown-boy routine again. A wave of anger rolled over her. The next time she trusted a man, there’d be twenty feet of snow in hell—if she lived that long.
His words pinpointed his location. He was too close for her to make a run for it, and he moved toward the trees she hid behind. Don’t make it easy. The words screamed in her mind. She looked for something to use as a weapon and found a broken branch on the ground. Not too heavy. She could handle it even with one shoulder that throbbed like crazy. The limb clutched in her hand, she rose to her feet. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on hearing his approach. She gripped the branch like a baseball bat and stood ready.
A whisper of sound against the trunk of the large fir to her left snapped her eyes open as she pivoted. The next instant, she stepped toward the sound and brought the limb around in an arc toward the man who stepped into view. Gray eyes regarded her with surprise as he brought his arm up to block her swing. He didn’t have a chance. Her blow caught him on the side of his head and dropped him where he stood.
When I Find You: A Trust No One Novel Page 2
