by Paula Graves
“I think we need to go back to north Georgia.”
Where the whole horrible mess had begun.
Chapter Seven
“This is a really bad idea.” Wade eyed the main drag of Pea Hollow, Georgia, population 350, and felt like a ten-point buck in a wide-open field. He could practically feel the eyes on them as they drove along Main Street, heading for the mountain pass.
“No risk, no reward,” Annie said in a gritty drawl.
“We could have come from the opposite direction. Skipped town.”
“We always drive through town when we come here. If I’m going to remember anything that happened after I arrived at the Chattanooga Airport, I think I need to re-create my steps back here.” Annie dipped Wade’s baseball cap lower on her forehead. “We usually stop at The Sweeterie because Mom swears their pecan pralines are the best around.” Her voice hitched slightly, drawing his gaze to her face again. She peered forward through the windshield, her lips trembling briefly. “I like the pistachio clusters better.”
“Well, I’d offer to stop and buy you a bag, but—”
She managed a grim smile. “Yeah, low profile. I know.”
“Then again, if you usually stop somewhere, maybe that’s what we should do,” Wade said, torn between wanting answers and wanting to keep Annie safe. “You don’t have to get out, but maybe I could take a look around. I could put my cell phone camera on video record. You could watch the video and see if it triggers any memories.”
She gave him a quick, appreciative look. “Good idea. Let’s do it.”
He felt appallingly pleased with himself for winning her approval. “Okay, so, is the sweet shop the first place you stop?”
She slanted a look at him. “Two women. A store full of chocolate. What do you think?”
He grinned. “Okay, point me toward the chocolate.”
She guided him to a small storefront across from the post office. The Sweeterie was painted in whimsical lettering across the glass window. “It’s small, so you should be able to video the whole shop in about a minute. You know, be obvious about it. Make up a story or something about why you’re filming.”
He frowned. He might be good at seeing through a lie, but he wasn’t very good at creating one. “Like what?”
“Like, you came up here to go fishing with friends, and your girlfriend had to work and couldn’t make it,” she suggested. “So you promised you’d film your trip to the chocolate shop so it would be just like she was there.” She darted another look at Wade. “And you bought a bag of pistachio clusters to take home to her.”
He laughed aloud. “To maintain the cover.”
“Of course.”
If a bag of pistachio clusters would maintain that smile on her face, even a little while, they’d be worth every penny he paid for them.
He walked a full circuit of the chocolate shop, filming the counter, the display cases, even some of the customers. As expected, the curiosity of the ponytailed clerk behind the counter forced him to explain the cover story. The clerk thought he was adorably devoted to his girlfriend and even threw in an extra half pound of pistachio clusters.
“Apparently being a sap gets you extra chocolate,” he told Annie as she exclaimed over the amount of candy he’d purchased.
“It’s not sappy. It’s sweet and considerate. You must have sold it really well, Cooper.”
Again he felt a flood of pleasure at her smiling approbation. “Well, I’m telling you now, I’m not holding your purse at the mall.”
She laughed, the first lighthearted sound he’d heard from her since she’d awakened at the hospital in Chickasaw County. “Duly noted.”
He handed her his phone as he pulled out into the late afternoon traffic on Main Street. “I pretty much covered the whole place. It’s the untitled one at the end.”
She found the video archive and started playing, grinning a little as she listened to his stuttering explanation of his reason for filming the shop. But her grin faded suddenly, and her body went rigid, straining against the seat belt. The phone tumbled to the floorboard at her feet as her hands came up, clawing at the restraint. She let out a low, keening moan.
They were past the edge of town now, moving into the wooded access road up the mountain to the Pea Hollow cabins. He had to wait until he could find a shoulder wide enough to accommodate the truck before he could pull over and check on her.
“Annie?” He put his hand on her shoulder.
She jerked at his touch, letting out a howl of terror.
* * *
SHE COULDN’T MOVE, tethered in place by steel cables strapped to hooks in the wall. She’d escaped her restraints before, sawing through the plastic cuffs they’d used the first time, then twisting free of the ropes they’d used as replacements for the flex cuffs.
They weren’t going to let her escape again.
“Let me go!” she howled at the darkness, not because she felt anyone there, as she often did, but because the sound of her voice made her feel marginally less impotent.
“Annie, stop.”
That wasn’t a voice she knew. It was a kind voice. A scared voice.
She realized her hands were free. She tugged at the bands holding her in place, puzzled to find not corded steel but woven nylon. They gave as she pulled, giving her room to pitch herself forward. But something still held her trapped at the waist.
This isn’t right. This isn’t what happened.
A tiny voice of sanity murmured in the back of her head, but her panic drowned it out. She pulled desperately at the nylon strap holding her captive, running her hand over the fabric.
She felt hands on her, trying to hold her in place. She slapped at the hands, blind but terrified.
And in the blackness inside her head, she heard her father’s voice. “If you get out of here, find Marsh.”
She pushed against the hands again, redoubling her effort to find a way free of the strap holding her hips pinned to the wall. Her fingers brushed over steel—a buckle. She pushed down on a moving part and the buckle fell away, freeing her from her captivity.
She turned away from the grasping hands and crashed into something hard, headfirst. She cried out as pain streaked through her head, filling the darkness in her mind with sparkling lights.
“Annie, stop!” Hands caught her again, pulling her back against a warm, hard body.
She could see again, light so bright it made her eyes burn. The ache in her head subsided to a dull throb, and she realized she wasn’t in a darkened room at all.
She was in a truck. The wall closing her in was the passenger door.
And the body wrapped around hers, keeping her firmly in place, belonged to Wade Cooper.
She twisted in his arms, looking into his fathomless eyes to reassure herself that she was right. It was him. He stared back at her, breathing hard. “Annie? Are you hearing me?”
“I’m back,” she said, her throat feeling sore and raspy.
His big hand palmed her cheek, stroking her face with trembling fingers. “Good. You okay?”
She nodded, lifting one hand to her forehead. The baseball cap was in place, but beneath the band, her head hurt. She pulled off the hat, letting her hair tumble free, and checked the adhesive bandage covering the gash at her hairline. It was still in place.
“Did I hit my head?” she asked.
“You went headfirst into the window, but the bill of the cap stopped you from smashing your face.” He curved his hand beneath her chin, lifting her face to look at her forehead. “Don’t see any blood seeping through the bandage. You dodged a bullet.”
“How long was I out of it that time?” She looked around them, trying to regain her bearings. They were parked on the shoulder of the road, surrounded primarily by woods. It was the mountain road leading up to the cabins that dotted the mountainside. The town was behind them now, no longer visible through the trees.
“Just a minute or two.” Wade leaned down and picked up the cell phone sitting betw
een her feet.
She eyed it warily, realizing that whatever had triggered her flashback must have been on that video. Cautiously, she tried to remember the images she’d seen when she hit the play button.
The interior of the shop, a familiar, pleasant sight. Her mouth watered, even now, at the memory of the display case full of chocolate candies. Wade had moved the phone slowly around the shop interior, taking in the cross-stitched samplers hanging on the wall and the smiling face of the college-aged counter clerk.
There had been customers. Tourists, mostly, dressed in casual clothing, milling around the display cases in search of candy delights they could eat, guilt free, because they were on vacation.
And then the camera had panned toward the far wall—
“Let me take a look at the video again,” she said, holding out her hand.
Wade eyed her warily. “Not sure that’s a good idea.”
She could hardly blame him for his hesitation. She buckled her seat belt, pulling it tight, and held out her hand again. “Please?”
He slowly released his breath and handed her the phone. She pushed the play button and watched the video run through the cycle again. Entranceway, candy counter, yummy chocolates, pretty counter clerk—there. Wade was telling the story of the fishing trip and the girlfriend stuck home working as he swung the camera toward the side wall.
A man stood by the preboxed chocolates, pretending to be considering his options. From the back, he looked ordinary enough, just another tourist dressed in khaki chinos and a light blue golf shirt. But when he turned toward Wade, he froze a second, then quickly turned his head away.
But not soon enough.
She rewound and hit Pause when the man’s face turned fully toward her. He wore a fishing hat adorned with tied flies, but it rode high enough to reveal an ordinary face, wide brow, flat cheekbones, thin mouth and square chin. There was nothing remarkable about him at all, but Annie recognized him nevertheless.
She’d seen his face before, in the front room of her father’s mountain cabin. He’d been waiting for them just inside when they returned from breakfast on the second morning of their vacation.
He hadn’t been alone.
“You recognize him?” Wade asked carefully, his voice breaking her concentration, making her jump.
She released a bitter chuckle. “He’s one of the people who took us from the cabin.”
“You remember?”
She nodded, a shudder rippling down her back. “Not all the details, but I know he was there. There were others, too. I don’t remember anything about them, just that they were there.”
“Still, that’s great. That’s amazing.” He put his hand on her shoulder, the touch careful. Tentative.
But she found the touch bracing. As he started to move his hand away, she covered his fingers with hers, holding his hand in place. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“You took a big risk coming here with me. I know you didn’t have to.”
He gave her shoulder a squeeze and tugged his hand gently from her grasp. “Let’s see if I can catch a still from this and email it back to Gossamer Ridge.”
“Won’t that reveal our whereabouts? Since your brother thinks someone’s keeping a close eye on your family, I mean.”
“It’ll go to Luke first. He can forward it to Jesse. Or take it to my cousin Aaron and let him see if we can get an ID on this guy.”
She was afraid to hope anything helpful could come from identifying the man in the video. Even if they established that he was somehow connected to the S.S.U., it would only be confirmation of what they already believed.
She might not remember exactly what had happened to her family, but she knew, gut deep, that the S.S.U. was somehow involved.
“Okay, sent.” Wade pocketed the phone and buckled his seat belt, turning the key in the ignition. The Ram roared to life. “I don’t think we need to head up the mountain just yet, do you?”
She knew what he was asking. “You don’t trust me not to zone out on you again.”
“I just think one zone out is enough for one day. Why don’t we find a motel next town over and settle down for the night?”
She ran her finger along the strap of the seat belt, a new thought occurring to her. They hadn’t taken time to consider all the ramifications of their precipitous flight east while they were eating up highway to put distance between themselves and the people back in Chickasaw County who were looking for Annie. But there was something neither of them had considered.
“I think we should get one room,” Wade said.
Okay, maybe he had considered it.
“Because you might have another flashback,” he added quickly, meeting her sidelong gaze.
“Right.”
It was the only reasonable option. For one thing, she wasn’t sure how safe either of them would be stuck in a strange room alone, separated from the only support either of them had. And if she were to have another flashback and wander off in her altered state, God only knew where she’d end up before she came back to her senses.
“Or we could go back to Alabama and let my cousin put you in protective custody,” Wade added quietly.
She looked over at him. He was gazing forward, into the woods that stretched out ahead of them on the winding road up the mountain, his profile set and impossible to read. “Is that what you’d rather I do? I mean, like I said, it’s asking a lot of you—”
He shot her a quick, fierce look. “I don’t know where you’d be safer. That’s the only thing that matters.”
“I’d be safer with you.” The words spilled from her lips, thoughtless and unfiltered. But sure. Utterly sure.
His eyes blazed back at her. “Okay, then. Let’s find a cheap motel and settle in for the night.”
* * *
THE MOUNTAIN VIEW LODGE in Samsonville, about twenty minutes north of Pea Hollow, wasn’t nearly as scenic as its name would suggest. Wade found the clerk more than willing to take cash—with a generous tip—rather than a credit card to pay for the night’s stay. He drove the truck around and hurried Annie inside, careful to get her quickly out of sight of any nosy fellow travelers in nearby rooms.
There were two beds, neither of them particularly inviting, but Annie didn’t seem inclined to be picky. She dropped onto the nearest bed and slumped forward, her elbows resting on her knees. “This running for your life stuff? Not as exciting as it looks on TV.”
He plucked his cap off her head, making her look up at him. “Tell me the truth. How are you feeling? How’s the head?”
“Okay,” she said. She sounded truthful enough. “I could use a hot shower, though.”
“Me, too.” The long drive had been hell on his bad right knee. A hot shower might loosen up the aching muscles.
She cocked her head. “You go first. And don’t use up the hot water.”
“You sure?”
She nodded, grabbing the paper bag he’d dropped on the bed next to her. “I’ll be here examining the pistachio clusters.” She waggled her eyebrows, making him grin.
He showered quickly and changed into a clean pair of jeans and a faded olive drab T-shirt from his Marine Corps days. The hot water had eased some of the pain in his knee, but his limp was still far more pronounced than he liked as he hobbled his way back to the main room.
“The beds are remarkably clean,” Annie commented from her supine position on the far bed, her words garbled by the pistachio cluster she was chewing. “Don’t suppose they have cable?”
Wade sat on the opposite bed. “Don’t ruin your dinner.” They’d stopped at a fast food restaurant a quarter mile back, grabbing burgers and soft drinks to supplement the small stash of packaged food Wade had shoved into his duffel bag.
She wrinkled her nose and sat up, putting the bag of candy aside. She nodded at his knee, which he’d begun to rub absentmindedly. “Still hurts?”
“Like a son of a bitch,” he admitted.
She pushed off the bed a
nd crossed to sit next to him. “My dad busted his knee when I was still in high school. He was terrified it would kill his career—pilots with bad limbs don’t go very far. I used to help him with his home physical therapy. I learned a lot.” She met Wade’s gaze, a question in her warm caramel eyes.
Feeling suddenly helpless to deny her anything, he gave a little nod.
She curved her hand over his bum knee, her fingers gently probing the swollen joint. “Nerve damage?”
“Some,” he admitted, feeling flushed and unnerved.
“Torn muscles,” she said, her fingers sliding over the malformed muscles where the bullet had torn through flesh and bone. “Ouch.”
“Yeah.” Clinical though her examination might be, it was having a decidedly non-clinical effect on his body. Though he struggled not to let it show, his blood sang in his veins with each gentle touch, his body growing fiery hot with sexual awareness. If her fingers moved any farther up his leg, he might not be able to hide his reaction from her at all.
She dropped her hand away from his knee and slowly lifted her face, answering fire blazing in her eyes. “What are we doing?” she whispered, leaning perilously close.
“I don’t know,” he admitted, unable to move away. She was so close he could feel the heat of her skin radiating against his. Her breath washed over him, sweet from the candy and smoldering hot with the same desire that burned behind her eyes.
He had to taste her, sample the molten sweetness himself.
She curled her hand in the collar of his shirt, twisting the cotton to pull him closer. He pressed his mouth to hers, his breath spilling from his lungs in a heated rush.
Sweet and salty. Blistering hot and smoky dark. As her hands slid around his neck, he wrapped his arms around her waist and dragged her closer, needing to feel her body pressed hot and firm against his.
She made a sound deep in her throat, her fingers clawing into his back. Suddenly, her body went rigid against his, and the sound in her throat rose in a cry.
He jerked away from her as she slammed her hands hard against his shoulders, a rat-a-tat of terror. She scrambled away from him, staring back at him through sightless eyes.
