______
Adrenaline spiked Jace’s blood and made his mind race. He looked through the door of Shanna’s bedroom and down the hall. Had Barstow made it to Shanna’s apartment already? Or had Jace been spotted by the officer outside?
He heard the lock click open and the door swing wide.
Damn.
Jace dashed for the closet. As quietly as he could, he slid the mirrored closet door open. Controlling his breathing, he strained to hear.
Heavy footsteps crossed the tile of the entry area.
He pushed his way into the closet, between a silky blouse and the nubbiness of tweed. Shanna’s light floral fragrance filled his senses, her scent permeating the clothing. He slid the door shut. It stuck with an inch to go.
The footsteps grew muffled, padding across carpet, heading this way.
Whoever was out there, he was close. In the hall? In the room? Jace couldn’t tell.
“I’ll start in the bedroom.”
Not Barstow. The sheriff. A man who was armed, trained, a man who would be tougher to overpower.
Still, the physical work on his ranch had made Jace hard and fit. Maybe he could take the guy. Disarm him. With the element of surprise on his side, it might be possible.
All he could hear was the beat of his own pulse, the rasp of his own breath. From the crack in the door, Jace could see a bedside table covered in lace that boasted a photo of Emily. He couldn’t see Gable, but he knew the sheriff had entered the room. He also knew it wouldn’t take the man long to decide to check the closet.
Jace shifted his feet, trying to work his way deeper into the clothing. His boot hit something solid. Carefully bending down, his fingers brushed the zipper of some kind of case.
The laptop. It was sitting at his feet.
If he could overpower the sheriff…if he could grab the laptop and run…
There had to be something he could use as a weapon. He groped around the closet, his hand brushing soft clothing. He touched the hard edge of a small box.
Shoes.
He slipped his hand under the lid. He could only hope Shanna liked stilettos. His fingers touched some kind of alligator-embossed leather…and a heel. A long, spiky, strong heel. He took a shoe out of the box and tested the weight of it in his hand.
“Find anything?” a voice boomed from the doorway.
Barstow. It had to be.
Jace let out the breath he’d been holding. As nice a weapon as the shoe made, it would be no match for two men. He was in deep trouble.
“Not yet.”
“You try the closet?”
Jace’s heart slammed hard enough to break a rib. He grabbed the laptop’s case and moved it to the outer edge of the closet, pushing it up to the door.
A dark shape blocked his view of the room. Broad shoulders. An expensive topcoat.
Flattening his body against the back wall, Jace sucked in a lungful of Shanna’s sweet scent and held it.
The door slid open. “Here it is.” A hand bearing a huge platinum ring grabbed the case’s handle and picked it up.
Jace didn’t dare move, he didn’t dare breathe. A drop of sweat trickled down his back. Another followed.
Finally the wall shuddered with the force of the front door slamming closed.
______
“WHERE IN THE HELL were you?” Jace knew he sounded like a jealous husband, but he couldn’t help it. When he’d returned to the cabin and Shanna hadn’t been there, he’d feared the worst. He’d been so relieved when he’d heard the buzz of the motorbike outside, he’d met her in the garage.
Shanna parked her bike in the space next to Jace’s. She took his hat off her head and handed it to him. “I had to call Linda. I had to warn her not to go in to work.”
Of course. He plopped the hat on his head. If he hadn’t been so focused on getting the laptop before Barstow, he might have thought of that, too. He was glad Shanna had been a little more clearheaded. “And she took the advice?”
“She’s going to bring Emily to her mother’s place and stay until this blows over.”
“No one will look for her there?”
“She hasn’t had much to do with her mother over the years. I don’t think she’s told anyone but me where she grew up.”
“Why the secret?”
“She didn’t have an easy life. And she was worried about assumptions people might make if they knew where she came from.”
“Wrong side of the tracks?”
“Something like that.”
Apparently Linda had done all right for herself. “Why did it take so long?”
“The clerk in the convenience store might have recognized me. I drove off in the opposite direction and doubled back so he couldn’t tell the police where I was headed.”
“Smart.” Shanna really was amazing. Every time he started to think he had to take care of her, she did something so sharp or brave, it put his worries to shame. “Sounds like we both had close calls.”
“Did you get the laptop?”
The gut ache that had assaulted him after his near run-in with Barstow and the sheriff returned full force. “They beat me to it.”
The hopeful gleam in Shanna’s eyes dimmed. “So Mr. Barstow has that, too.”
She looked as frustrated as he’d felt on the way back from her apartment. He’d had time to think since then, brainstorm a way around Barstow’s seeming invulnerability. “There still might be a way. We could go to the source.”
“You mean, the mines and mill themselves?”
“Exactly.”
“I don’t visit the sites as part of my job, you know. If anything is out of place, I doubt I’ll be able to recognize it.”
He’d thought of that. And maybe his idea was little more than a Hail Mary. But from where they were standing, there wasn’t much else they could do. “Maybe it will be nothing. But it’s worth a shot. Besides, now that the authorities know you’re in Palmer, it might be a good time to leave. Even just for a few hours.”
“Like a minivacation from being hunted.”
“Something like that.”
What he wouldn’t give to just cut loose and kiss her again. When he’d done it the first time, he’d thought it was possible he’d never see her again. When he’d returned to the cabin to find she still wasn’t back, he believed he’d been right.
The weight of relief bore down on his shoulders. He turned away from Shanna and walked back into the cabin. He had to get his head straight. He’d been alone for so long, not willing to let any part of his life be dependent on someone else. Not willing to give anyone power to affect him. Maybe this desire for Shanna was pure loneliness. Plain old-fashioned horniness.
But he was afraid it was more.
Jace took off his hat and tossed it down on the counter. Turning on the tap, he splashed his face. The water’s cold slap felt invigorating, refreshing, but it failed to wash away his errant thoughts or divert his focus.
He could hear Shanna moving around in the kitchen behind him. He could feel each look she directed his way. He burned to ask if she felt the same thing he did… the attraction, the tenderness, the almost overpowering need. Yet he knew no matter how she answered, it wouldn’t change a thing.
He would still be taking a huge risk. He would still be surrendering control. He would still be putting himself smack in the middle of the same situation that had nearly killed him before.
He turned off the water and ripped a paper towel from the roll near the sink. He took his time blotting his face. He needed to focus. On their next move. On making Barstow and Gable pay. On ending this whole mess before he dug himself too deep to climb out. “There’s one problem.”
“Only one?”
Only one he could afford to acknowledge at the moment. “We need a vehicle. The dirt bikes work well for ducking into town. But Red Desert Basin and Hell’s Half Acre…”
“Too far,” Shanna finished.
“I might have to steal one.”
She nodde
d, no flinch, no sign of guilt. Only yesterday the thought of stealing wheels was unacceptable to her. Another sign of how desperation could change a person.
“Or…” She paused.
“Or what?”
“Dirk did say he’d help.”
Jace weighed the idea. He might live to regret this. “You still have his number?”
She pulled the piece of paper from her pocket. “What if Dirk is the one who called Mr. Barstow? What if that’s why he showed up so early?”
“I thought you believed he wanted to help.”
“I’ve been known to be wrong about people’s intentions.” She tilted a shoulder. “Quite a lot lately.”
Or maybe circumstances had merely pounded the trust out of her. He’d sure been there. He just hated seeing it happen to Shanna. “Ask him to drop off his car at that little park along the river. We’ll be there ahead of time, make sure he isn’t followed. If someone comes looking for us or sets up a roadblock, we’ll know.”
“We need a phone. Mine’s back in my saddlebag.”
And his was one the charger at home. “We’ll buy one. A disposable. I have enough money left for that. And it might just come in handy.”
“Okay.” She nodded and started for the garage. “Let’s go.”
Jace watched her cross the kitchen, taking in the determined set of her jaw, the sway of her hips. This wild ride could end at any time. With an arrest. With a bullet. Maybe even with some kind of miracle. But all he could think about at this moment was how much he’d regret not getting another taste of Shanna before it did.
God help him.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
SHANNA WASN’T SURPRISED AT ALL when Dirk agreed to lend them his car. But she still couldn’t get over the fact that Jace had gone along with the idea. On his lunch break, Dirk had left his car at the park, then started the walk back to the Talbot building. Jace and Shanna watched him from an elevated spot on the opposite riverbank until he was nothing but a speck on the road.
No sign of anyone following. No sign of roadblocks. After Jace looked the car over, they were on their way.
Shanna expected sirens to sound any moment on the drive to the Red Desert Basin, but they never did. After that, she started to feel strangely relaxed. As she sat in the passenger seat watching the desert like plains whiz by, she could almost pretend they were just going out to take in the sights of Wyoming.
Or maybe she was too exhausted from days of being on the run that she no longer had the energy to be afraid.
However, after uneventful stops at the business-as-usual mine and the still-closed mill in the Red Desert Basin, Shanna’s mood turned to despair. As they circled north to Casper then headed west through the blink of a town called Powder River, the prospect that they might find nothing of value weighed heavy on her shoulders. “Maybe this is a waste of time.”
The sun was already getting low in the west. Jace squinted and tilted his hat down as they drove into it. “We won’t know until you can take a look at that last mine.”
“And see what?” She let out a frustrated breath. Jace didn’t seem to understand what her job actually entailed. “My job is crunching numbers, not checking out the actual mill and mines. All I could tell you about the operations in the Red Desert Basin is what you saw yourself.”
“Maybe this next one will be different.”
She shook her head. “I don’t understand what you’re hoping I’ll see.”
He glanced at her again. The sun glared harsh on his face. Dark circles cupped under his eyes. The stubble on his chin had grown into a full-fledged beard. He looked tired, as tired as she felt. “I don’t know, Shanna. I wish we’d been able to find something in the Talbot computer. I wish I’d been able to get a hold of your laptop. I’m out of ideas, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to let another rich bastard get away with murder. And I’ll be damned if I’m going to stand around and do nothing while you are hunted down like an animal.”
Shanna flattened herself to the back of her seat. The passion in his voice shook her to the core. From the beginning she’d known Jace had his reasons for helping her, reasons that had more to do with the kind of man Mr. Barstow was than any kind of feelings for her.
But now she wasn’t so certain.
He still had his own reasons, to be sure. But she had a strong feeling that he’d added her to the list…her and Em, of course. Maybe even put them up near the top. She could hear it in his voice.
And something deep inside her responded. “You’re right. Maybe I’ll see something. I’ll give it my best.”
“That’s my girl.”
A shiver settled in her chest. His girl. She wasn’t sure how that should make her feel. Indignant, maybe. The thought that she belonged to him, that she was a girl and not a woman. But somehow she couldn’t muster any of those feelings. Instead, she wanted to wrap her arms around those words and hold them to her heart.
For however long she could.
Up ahead, the flat plains of sage yawned. The ground split and opened into a chasm. Hell’s Half Acre was really a horseshoe gorge encompassing 320 acres of badlands in the middle of nowhere. A wound in the earth formed by an ancient off-shoot of the Powder River, a bit like a miniature Grand Canyon.
She pointed to a dirt road leading off the highway before they reached the badlands. The shortest route to the mine. “There.”
Jace took the turn. The car bounced over ruts in the road.
Shanna held on to the dash, each jolt hitting her like a kick to the kidneys. “God, I hate off-road driving.”
“This road is in good shape, for a mining road.”
She looked at him. “Are you serious?”
Jace shrugged a shoulder. “You saw all the trucks on the road leading to the Red Desert Basin mine. This doesn’t look nearly as well-traveled.”
He was probably right. Now that she really looked, she could see that in some places, sage encroached on the dirt tracks… nature’s attempt to reclaim her land. “This road curves back around to the highway. Maybe the trucks use the other side more.” Though why they wouldn’t use the shorter route, she couldn’t say.
“Maybe.” Jace kept driving. The road started to curve, as she’d said. At one point it drew close to the canyon, exposing its colorful layers of striated rock. A sheer cliff overlooking what seemed like an alien landscape. Jace gestured to the badlands. “It’s something, isn’t it? Totally different feel from the mountains, but beautiful all the same.”
Shanna wished she could share in Jace’s appreciation. But she was too busy scanning the sage-covered plains. They crested another hill, and the prairie stretched out before them.
She sucked in a sharp breath. “Stop.”
Jace brought the car to a halt. “What is it?”
Her eyes combed the gentle roll of land. She’d worked on this account for weeks. She’d studied the maps. This was the place. She knew it. “It’s not here.”
“What’s not here?”
“The mine.” Shanna threw open her door and climbed out. A strong wind buffeted her face. She wove around clumps of sage. “The mine should be right here.”
The car engine turned off and a door slammed behind her. Jace caught her at the top of a gentle swell. “It’s probably up ahead. We haven’t reached it yet.”
“Do you see anything up ahead?”
He didn’t answer. There was no answer to give.
“It’s supposed to be right here.” She gestured to the untouched ground in front of her. “When the mine was proposed, several groups protested the fact that it was so close to Hell’s Half Acre.”
“Maybe there’s another point in the road that runs this close.”
“No. There isn’t.” She pointed to the dirt road. “See how it curves away? It keeps going in that direction.”
Jace squinted, scanning the landscape. “And you’re sure this is the right road?”
“I’m sure.” She hadn’t physically visited this mine before, but she had
a head for geography. “I’ve seen the map a thousand times.”
“Maybe the controversy wasn’t resolved and the mine never got up and running.”
“No. It was resolved. Or at least the protestors’ claims were disregarded. That’s why the company that actually operates the mine went to Talbot. Heritage Mining. They needed Talbot’s help to push the permits through. Mr. Barstow is good at that.”
“I’ll bet.”
“Besides, this mine is racking up debt like you wouldn’t believe. The kind of debt a mine might have if it’s operating full bore but not finding a single atom of uranium. That’s why I recommended Talbot cut ties with Heritage Mining.”
“So if the mine doesn’t exist, Heritage Mining is ripping Talbot off.”
“Right.”
“I’ll bet I can guess who owns Heritage Mining.”
A shiver worked its way over her skin. “Maybe I was never supposed to see the details of this account. Maybe Ron Davis screwed up when he assigned it to me.”
“I guess he paid for his mistake.”
“A dummy company. A convenient way to embezzle.”
“You’re thinking of your ex-husband?”
“When I met with the SEC agent about Kurt last week, I thought I was finally done dealing with this kind of crap. Now Mr. Barstow…I just can’t seem to dig myself out.”
“Just because your ex-husband was an idiot, and your boss is a murderer, that doesn’t say anything about you.”
“Doesn’t it? They used me. They took advantage of me.”
“Because you’re a good person.”
“You mean, a gullible person.”
“That’s not what I mean. You’re not gullible. You just give people the benefit of the doubt. If they don’t deserve it, it’s not your problem. You can’t take responsibility for their choices.”
She turned away, not wanting Jace to see the tears welling in her eyes. A sob pushed at the back of her throat. Not a sob of sadness or distress. More one of anger. Of frustration. Of exhaustion.
She was so tired. Tired of being a victim. Tired of being a scapegoat. Tired of being afraid.
Manhunt (A Rocky Mountain Thriller Book 1) Page 12
