by Paula Graves
Wade Cooper’s cowboy silhouette filled the doorway. He was holding the handles of a wheelchair. “Time to hit the road,” he said softly, rolling the chair over to the bed.
“Maybe I’m overreacting. Maybe those people are who they say they are and I’m just looking for dragons to fight—”
“They’re not.” He motioned for her to get into the chair.
“I don’t think I need a wheelchair.”
“It will look more natural, at least until we reach the tunnel.”
“The tunnel?”
“There’s a tunnel from the basement floor that leads out to the parking deck.” He held out his hand to help her into the chair.
She took his hand, somehow calmed by the heat of his strong, firm touch. When she settled into the chair, he let go, leaving her fingers tingling and cold. “Then what?”
“We’ll wheel you down the tunnel, and then leave the chair there. Jesse’s gone to drive the car around to the exit. We’ll whisk you out of here and I’ll take you to my place until we can figure out what to do next.”
She wished he sounded more confident, but she could hear the thread of uncertainty running through his deep, calm voice. She had a lot of questions for him, since she was certain Wade Cooper knew more about her parents’ abduction than she did at this point.
But the first order of business was to get safely out of the hospital.
There were two other passengers on the fourth floor elevator when the doors opened. Annie smiled at them briefly, making a quick assessment. One was clearly a phlebotomist, carrying a rectangular plastic basket full of vials, bandages, rubber tourniquets and other blood-taking paraphernalia. The other was a haggard-looking man in his fifties in rumpled clothes who didn’t seem to have the energy to return the smile.
The phlebotomist got off on the fourth floor. The haggard-looking man stayed with them.
The elevator stopped at each floor, taking on new passengers. A woman with red-rimmed eyes. A man with a clerical collar who smiled back gently at Annie when he entered. A man holding a sleeping child tucked against his shoulder. Annie tried not to look at them all as potential dangers, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself.
She’d seen too much of life as a reporter to believe that all people were good. They weren’t. Many of them were, maybe even most of them, but there were enough bad actors to make the world a perilous place.
The elevator emptied at the lobby floor. Wade wheeled her out as well, taking a quick circuit around the lobby with her until their fellow passengers had all left through the front door.
Wade circled her back to the elevators and pushed her chair to a different elevator. He pushed the down button and the doors swished open. This elevator was narrower, not set up to accommodate the big, wide gurneys that the other cars were built to handle.
Wade wheeled her inside and hit the button for the basement on the panel.
“You engage in this kind of subterfuge often?” she asked with a wry half smile. Her voice seemed loud in the empty car.
“Not too often,” he answered. For a brief second, his big, warm hand settled on her shoulder. The touch had an electric effect on her nervous system, shooting sparks that lingered even after he removed his hand.
“Do you live far away?”
“About ten minutes from here. We’ll be there before you know it.”
“What if it’s not safe for me to leave the hospital?” she asked. “Medically, I mean.” After all, concussions weren’t anything to mess around with. The doctor had said he’d want to keep her another day, maybe two, just to be sure the brain injury wasn’t any more serious.
“We’ve already called the Cooper Security doctor on staff. If he thinks you need round-the-clock care, he’ll arrange it.”
“Just not in a public hospital?” she guessed.
“Right.”
“Cooper Security,” she repeated, the name once again niggling at the back of her scrambled brains. “You had something to do with Barton Reid’s most recent indictment, right?”
“Tangentially,” Wade agreed. The elevator hit the basement floor and dinged, the doors swishing open. He wheeled her out into a well-lit but featureless corridor.
The dingy white walls of the long tunnel were unadorned, save for security cameras spaced every twenty yards or so. “They’ll be able to see how I left,” she murmured.
“Won’t matter,” he said.
“Why not?”
“Because you’re not doing anything illegal, and my cousin is currently informing the hospital security staff that you’re being removed from the hospital under authority of the Chickasaw County Sheriff’s Department.”
“He can do that?”
“The sheriff can, and Aaron’s arranged it with him.”
“Won’t the sheriff want to know where I am?”
“Sheriff Canaday has an understanding with Cooper Security. We deal with a lot of high-risk security cases.”
“The real A.F.O.S.I. is going to want to talk to me,” she warned.
“I imagine the FBI will, too,” Wade affirmed as they passed the final security camera in the tunnel. “I have a cousin in the Huntsville Resident Agency—we’ll call him in a few days and see how they want to proceed.”
Annie’s head was starting to swim. “I feel as if I’ve awakened in the middle of a spy movie.”
Wade laughed softly, the warm, rich sound catching her by surprise. “Believe it or not, I know what you mean.”
The wheels of the wheelchair rattling on the dull tile flooring made a loud clatter that echoed off the walls of the tunnel, drowning out almost everything else. But not even the squeaky wheels could mask the loud ding of the elevator at the other end of the hall.
“Is that—?”
Wade paused a second, then suddenly started running. She felt his breath hot in her ear as they picked up speed and heard, when his steps quickened, that his limp nearly disappeared when he ran. Behind them, the pounding of footsteps on the linoleum echoed down the tunnel.
“Wade—”
“Almost there,” he breathed, his shoes squeaking on the floor. He sounded almost as scared as she felt.
The chair made it impossible for her to turn around and look to see who was coming behind them. But who else could it be? The men who’d come to her room to take her away had apparently figured out where she’d gone.
They reached the end of the long tunnel, where a heavy-looking steel door stood between them and whatever came next. Through the large square window set into the door, Annie glimpsed a concrete parking deck before Wade hurried around the chair and held out his hands. “We have to run,” he urged, his dark eyes meeting hers.
She let him pull her to her feet, daring a quick look behind them as they ran for the door. The two fake A.F.O.S.I. agents were gaining on them, only fifty yards back down the tunnel.
Wade pushed open the door and pulled her outside with him, emerging into a dimly lit parking garage at a sprint.
But there was no getaway vehicle waiting for them.
Chapter Four
Next to Annie, Wade Cooper breathed a low, heartfelt profanity.
She looked over her shoulder at the window in the tunnel doorway, panic clawing at her gut. Only twenty yards away now, the two men in black suits raced for the door right behind them.
A squeal of tires drew her attention back to the parking deck. She saw Wade waving wildly at a large black Ford Expedition coming toward them at a clip. It braked to a quick stop and the back door opened. Annie caught a glimpse of Megan Pike’s pale, freckled face as Wade pushed her into the backseat and clambered in behind her.
“Go!” he commanded the man in the driver’s seat. All Annie could see of him was a head of dark hair and, in the rearview mirror, a pair of dark eyes even more mysterious than Wade Cooper’s.
Wade twisted around to look behind them. Annie turned, too, ignoring the wave of dizziness caused by the rapid movement of her head, and spotted their pursuers burs
ting through the tunnel door just as the Expedition descended the wide curve of the parking deck, putting the men out of sight.
Annie turned back around, slumping against the seat. Her nausea had returned with a vengeance, but she fought it, closing her eyes.
She felt Wade’s hand close over hers. “You okay?”
“Just feeling a little queasy.”
“Here.” From her left, Megan thrust a plastic sack into her hands.
“No, I’m okay,” Annie assured her breathlessly. “I just need to breathe.”
“We can open a window,” Megan suggested.
“Not a good idea,” the man in the front seat suggested.
“The windows are bullet-resistant,” Wade said quietly.
“Who are you people?” Annie opened her eyes to look at Wade.
“We’re people who are almost as invested as you are in what happened to your parents,” the driver answered.
How was that possible?
“I know you have questions,” Wade said quietly. His fingers tightened over hers. “And we’ll answer them all. I promise. Just let us get you to a safe place and have the doctor take a look at you, okay?”
She wanted to trust him, she realized. She needed to. She was hurt and tired, terrified about what may have happened to her parents and scared for her own safety. She’d never felt more alone in her life.
But how could she trust any of them? How had she allowed herself to become so utterly in their control without even asking any hard questions?
Her head felt like lead. She felt as if her neck could barely hold it up. Even the effort of keeping her eyes open seemed beyond her ability at the moment. If she had to fight her way out of their clutches, she wouldn’t be able to do it. So she had no choice but to trust them, to go along with them, at least for the moment, hoping she was right to put her life in their hands.
But as soon as she got even a drop of her strength back, she’d have a hell of a lot of hard questions for Wade Cooper and his family.
“Is she unconscious?” That was Megan Pike’s voice. It drifted through the cottony haze that had set up shop in her brain, nudging her to consciousness again. She forced open her heavy eyes and saw that the SUV had stopped, the engine noise dying away.
“I’m awake,” she murmured. Her voice came out thick and slurred. She forced herself into a more upright position, her whole body feeling like a bad toothache. Every muscle cramped, every ligament and tendon complained. The nausea was back and she dry heaved a couple of times into the plastic bag Megan had given her.
“Okay, time to see a doctor,” Wade said firmly, his hand warm against the back of her neck.
“Just give me a minute,” she gasped.
“I’ll call Eric and see what’s holding him up,” Megan said. She climbed out of the car, shutting the door behind her. The driver got out as well, leaving Annie alone in the backseat with Wade.
“I know you’re probably scared,” he said in a low, soothing growl. “I don’t blame you. I’d be pretty scared, too.”
She rubbed her burning eyes. “I keep thinking I’m going to wake up and the world will make sense again.”
“We’ll see what we can do about helping it make sense again.”
The nausea subsided enough that she was able to raise her head and look up at him. Up close, his dark eyes looked warm and gentle, no hint of the earlier mystery. She felt as if she could drown in those eyes. It was an oddly comforting feeling, even though there was a part of her foggy brain that was clanging with warning bells.
Don’t depend on anyone else. Don’t trust anyone else.
Never, ever get involved.
“Where are we?” She forced herself to look away from those liquid brown eyes and take in the world outside the SUV. They were parked in front of a cabin surrounded by tall pines and hardwoods. In front of them, beyond a long carpet of fallen pine straw, moonlight sparkled on the calm, mirrored surface of a lake.
An image filled her mind. A field of stars stretching out in front of her, twinkling and shimmering as she walked toward their light.
Not stars. Lights on water.
She’d been here before.
“I was here,” she murmured.
“Not here,” Wade disagreed, sliding out of the SUV and turning to face her. “But not far away.”
He held out his hand. She took it and eased her aching body out of the car. The September night was cooler than she’d expected, and she couldn’t hold back a shiver.
“Let’s get you inside where it’s warm,” Wade murmured, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and tucking her close. Any other time, she might have taken offense at a strange man being so presumptuous as to touch her that way, but frankly, she was glad for the warmth and the solid heft of him, holding her upright as they carefully walked the uneven gravel path to the back patio. Beneath their feet, the ground was slick with moisture, though the rain had stopped some time since she ended up in the hospital.
She looked down at her feet, picturing them walking along a similar path. No. Not gravel.
Flagstones. They were dark, barely discernible from the grass, and she’d fallen....
She lifted her hand to her head.
“Your head still hurting?”
“I fell on flagstones.” She looked up at Wade and found his narrow-eyed gaze on her. “I hit my head on one.”
Megan met them on the porch. The driver kept his distance. “Eric’s stuck at the free clinic for the next hour or so. They had a rash of emergencies come in late. He said to get her settled in and just keep an eye on her to make sure she doesn’t lose consciousness before he gets here.”
Annie frowned. “You’re not staying with us?”
Megan glanced at Wade before looking back at her. “We figured it would draw less attention here if we didn’t do anything out of the ordinary.”
“You don’t want people to know you’re here,” Wade murmured.
She couldn’t really argue that fact, she supposed. “So I’ll be here alone with you? I barely know you.”
“I don’t reckon you know me at all,” he admitted. “I’ve asked my cousin Cissy to come stay here, too. You’ll like her. She can help you get set up with some more clothes and other woman stuff you might need.”
She couldn’t stop a smile at his clumsy reassurances. “Does she work for Cooper Security, too?”
“Just until she goes back to college in January,” Megan answered for him.
Wade opened the door and led them into the bungalow. A slim, dark-haired woman emerged from the back of the house, followed closely by a tall, dark-haired man with sharp blue eyes. Recognition tickled the back of Annie’s mind. She’d seen this woman before.
Where had she seen her before?
The brunette smiled at Annie. “You look like hell. Let’s get you tucked back in bed before you fall over.”
“This polite and gracious creature is my sister Isabel,” Wade murmured. “Who has never been big on niceties, apparently.”
“Isabel Cooper,” Annie murmured, finally placing the woman. “Your partner at the FBI was killed in that bombing in Reston, Virginia.”
“The reports of my death are greatly exaggerated,” the blue-eyed man said with a drawl. “Ben Scanlon. Isabel’s partner. Now husband.”
Annie blinked with surprise. “Oh. Guess I should read my own paper more, huh?”
“We didn’t exactly publicize my triumphant return to the living,” Ben said with a soft laugh.
“Are you hungry?” Isabel asked. “I brought by some leftover soup Aunt Beth made yesterday—I could microwave you a bowl.”
After her nausea in the car, Annie wasn’t sure she should try eating anything, but maybe a little food in her stomach might actually settle it. She had no idea when she’d last eaten—for all she knew, it could have been days.
“Aunt Beth’s soup is really good,” Megan coaxed. “And you might feel better once you’ve eaten something.”
Annie’s own aun
t Phyllis, an amazing cook, firmly believed there was little in life that couldn’t be fixed with a warm, cheesy casserole and a glass of sweet iced tea. Maybe she was right.
“Okay. I’ll try some soup,” she said. She turned to Wade. “Would it be okay if I borrowed your phone? I need to make a call to my aunt Phyllis, to let her know I’m okay. She must be worried sick about us.”
Wade exchanged a look with his sister. Annie’s stomach tightened with the tension that rose suddenly in the cozy bungalow.
“What?” she asked. “Is there something you’re not telling me about my aunt Phyllis?”
“No,” Wade said quickly, laying his hand on her shoulder. “As far as we know, she’s just fine.”
She turned to look at him. “Then what?”
“I thought you understood,” he said carefully. “Nobody else—not the police, not even your family—can know where you are.”
* * *
ANNIE HARLOWE LOOKED as if she’d spent the last three weeks in hell. Her hair was dirty and tangled, still stained with her own blood. Her face was so pale it was nearly translucent. Purple shadows, dark as bruises, circled her red-rimmed eyes. And she was literally swaying on her feet as she turned fully to face Wade.
But the fire flashing from her dark eyes was hot enough to scorch him. “You’re keeping me prisoner? Is that what you’re saying?”
“Of course not.” He kept his voice low and soothing.
She was having none of it. “So I can leave whenever I want. Go wherever I want. Talk to whomever I want. Right?”
Wade looked at his sisters for help. Isabel stepped forward, laying her hand on Annie’s shoulder. “You can do any of those things, but you have to know that doing so could put you in grave danger. We might not be able to protect you.”
Annie’s gaze never left Wade’s face. “I know I called you for help, but maybe I was hasty. The real A.F.O.S.I. will want to talk to me. Probably the FBI as well, as you pointed out earlier. I know we reporter types have a reputation of not trusting the government, but—”
“Barton Reid was once part of the government,” Ben Scanlon said quietly. “He sent people to kidnap a two-year-old child from his mother to blackmail her into handing over evidence against him. He hired a whole band of mercenaries to murder a woman who’d already been tortured for her country, just to protect his own interests.”
