Midnight Reckoning

by Rebecca Deel

  “What’s that smile for?”

  “Feeling sorry for all the female hearts Junior is bound to break.”

  “I see.”

  His puzzled tone made it clear to her Micah didn’t understand. “If our son looks anything like you, the ladies won’t stand a chance.”

  “Is that a compliment?”

  Sophie shrugged, unwilling to pursue the subject. Bad idea for the federal cop to suspect how much he was growing on her. Magic hands aside, Micah Winter cared enough about her and Junior to put his life at risk. Though the baby was his, she was a virtual stranger. As he’d said, a ten minute conversation didn’t make a relationship. No one in her life had loved her enough to risk a neck for hers. Her twin hadn’t loved her that much or she and Micah wouldn’t be in this situation.

  “Any more options? Maybe witness protection?” she asked.

  “We don’t qualify. At least, not yet.”

  She hoped witness protection never became necessary. Living life looking over her shoulder didn’t appeal to her sense of life balance. She settled deeper into the comfortable chair. Micah’s furniture choice worked for her. Leather with plush cushioning. Perfect for a swollen, achy body.

  “Do you have a preference, Micah?”

  “Ship you and Junior to Quantico until I discover who sent the thug after you. Then I go in and clean house.”

  Uh huh. “Is that cop speak for tracking down the bad guys and throwing them in jail?”

  Micah blinked. “Who said anything about jail?”

  His soft voice and blank expression spoke volumes. “I’d prefer to avoid Quantico for the moment. You are Junior’s bodyguard and, since he’s still a work in progress, that makes you mine as well. End of story. What’s your next favorite choice?”

  “Our best alternative is the third one.”

  “I agree, with one modification. Could you buy the Thuraya phones? I don’t want to advertise our location since the bad guys can track our regular cell phones.”

  “No problem.” Micah pulled out his cell phone and made a call. When Sophie tried to move her legs, he tightened his grip on her calf. “It’s Micah. I need a favor.” In a few sentences, he explained what he needed and why. He listened a moment, told the man where to meet him. “Thanks, man. I owe you.” He returned his phone to its holder. “We pick up the phones in a few hours.”

  “Do you always work so fast?”

  Micah stilled, a ghost of a smile curling his lips. “Sometimes. Other things, like kisses, are better slow.”

  Sophie’s head dropped back against the chair. “Micah.” Her cheeks burned like they were on fire.

  “Am I interrupting?” Brent entered the safe room, gaze shifting from her to Micah and back.

  “Come in.” Micah waved him to the other chair in the room.

  “Cops are taking your guests to county lockup. They agreed to let you go in tomorrow and give a formal statement.” Brent eyed Sophie before returning his attention to Micah. “I wasn’t sure you wanted them to know about your lady, so I didn’t mention her.”

  Micah sighed. “Looks like this debacle is on me. No point involving her unless it’s necessary. The less ammunition the Kings have, the better.”

  “Metro already has reports in place from Sophie’s attack. It’s a matter of time before the Kings’ hacker finds the report.”

  “By that time, I’ll have Sophie out of her routine and off the grid.”

  Brent nodded. “Good.” He smiled at Sophie. “Micah will keep you and your baby safe, Sophie. You can trust him.”

  “I know.” Her gaze locked with Micah’s. A simple statement, one she believed. “Is your team okay?”

  “On the way to the hospital so the doc can x-ray Winston’s foot. Can’t tell if it’s broken because of the swelling, but he used to be a SEAL. Winston is as tough as they come. If he’s whining, it’s bad. Everyone else came through the op without a scratch.” He turned Micah’s direction. “When are you off grid?”

  “As soon as we pack what we need from here. Sophie already has some of her things in the SUV. Johnson’s meeting me in a few minutes with satellite phones. I’ll call you with the contact number as soon as Sophie’s safe.”

  “Want me to move your vehicle to the back?”

  Micah tossed the keys to his friend. He glanced at Sophie. “Okay if we give Brent your keys? We should hide your SUV somewhere safe.”

  “Fine.” Sophie produced her car keys and dropped them in Brent’s outstretched hand. “Do you wash and wax too?”

  Brent’s green eyes flashed. “We’ll detail your interior if you’d like.”

  She placed her hand over her heart and moaned. “My hero.”

  “Anything else you need, Micah?”

  “Check her SUV for tracking devices before you drive it anywhere. I don’t want to bring trouble from either side to you.”

  “Will do.” He paused. “Any objections to a few vehicle upgrades?”

  “Knock yourself out. Add it to my bill.”

  Vehicle upgrades? Sophie tilted her head, studied both men in turn. “What vehicle upgrades? My Tahoe is only a few months old and it’s fully loaded.” And any upgrades these guys were talking about must cost more money than she could afford.

  “Not the upgrades we mean. GPS, armor plating, and a few other surprises I have in stock.” Brent rose. “I’ll move your SUV now, Micah. We’ll move Sophie’s vehicle tomorrow morning. I want to go to the hospital and check on Winston.” He waved and was gone.

  Sophie wiggled her feet and, when Micah released her, shifted her feet to the floor and slipped on her shoes. “When do we leave?”

  “As soon as you’re ready.”

  “Ten minutes. I don’t have much here.”

  “Take everything. I don’t know how long we’ll be on the move and the less time we spend in stores with surveillance cameras, the better for safety.” He helped her stand and moved to take her place in front of the computer screens. “I have a couple things to do here, then I’ll pack.” He smirked. “Bet I finish packing before you.”

  Sophie narrowed her eyes. “You’re on.” In less than a minute, she was in the guest room throwing her belongings in her bag.

  #

  Micah tapped his security code into the appropriate spot and calculated in his head how much money he needed to transfer from his Swiss bank account to the various accounts in his alternate identities. If they ran short, he’d transfer more funds.

  He typed in one amount, paused, backtracked, and added more. Micah didn’t know much about Sophie’s spending habits, but based on his sister and mother, she would have more elaborate needs than he did.

  He logged out and walked to his bedroom, glancing into the guest room as he passed. He grinned at the sight of her belongings into her bag, sure that wasn’t her usual packing routine. In her home, everything had a place and reflected her organized nature. Unlike his cabin. His organization had everything to do with his mother and sister and nothing to do with his preferences.

  He wasn’t a slob here or in D.C. The D.C. townhouse, though, was decorated in what his sister labeled early American spartan. No pictures on the walls, no dust collectors on flat surfaces. His sole nod to décor was a leather couch and 52-inch flat screen television. He didn’t see a point decorating the place since he spent more time on the road than home each month.

  Micah hauled out his bag. He needed to contact his lawyer soon about making provisions for Sophie and Junior in case he miscalculated somewhere along the line. He didn’t want the baby or his mother suffering financially because he didn’t take care of his responsibilities.

  He glanced at his watch. Needed to find a hotel soon so Sophie could rest and he could prop up his leg which once again throbbed to the beat of his heart. After adding a few more clothes to his bag, Micah carried it into the bathroom. He grabbed his pre-packed shaving kit from under the sink, dumped the case into his bag, secured it, and zipped.

  Back out in the hall, Micah stoppe
d in the guestroom doorway, watching Sophie straighten the pillows on the bed. “What are you doing?”

  She turned, propped her hands on her hips. “Being a good house guest.” Sophie’s eyes widened at the sight of the duffel bag in his hand. “You’re finished already?”

  The dismay in her voice brought a smile to his lips. “Not quite. You still have about four minutes left of the ten.”

  “Good. I would hate to not be a woman of my word.”

  He nodded at her bag. “Ready for me to take that?”

  “Thank you. As soon as I grab my belongings from the bathroom, my makeup case will be ready too.”

  “Wait by the back door. I need a few things from the safe room.” He left their bags in the kitchen, returned to the safe room and opened his gun safe, hidden behind the floor-length mirror in the bathroom.

  With Sophie in mind, he checked his .38 revolver. Perfect working order. After strapping his ankle holster in place and securing the weapon, he picked up a box of ammunition and slid it into his pocket. Another shelf held multiple clips for his Glock and Sig. He loaded his other pocket with the ammunition and closed and locked the gun safe. If he needed more weapons, Brent could get anything necessary for their survival.

  And that was the point of these maneuvers. Micah was determined to provide a safe future for his son and Sophie. He didn’t care what objects he had to blow up, drive over, or take out to do it.

  He retraced his steps to the computer console and unlocked the top drawer. Inside lay his alternate identities and credit cards as well as $5,000 in cash. He stuffed all that, plus the ammo he unloaded from his pockets, into a small black carrying case. Which hotel would Sophie be comfortable in and still be far enough off the main traffic routes to appease his paranoia?

  He turned to leave the room, hesitated, stared at the flickering computer screen. Another glance at his watch. Micah had two minutes to spare. He sat, activated his word processing program. Two paragraphs later, he printed and signed the paper, and faxed the document to his lawyer. Folding the original letter, Micah slipped the paper into his pocket to hand to Brent. If anything happened to him, Brent, as executor of his estate, would make sure Sophie and the baby were taken care of.

  In the kitchen again, he noticed the heavy snow and revised his plan for the night. Hotel off the beaten path but not too far away. He didn’t relish spending the night in his SUV if he slid off the road. Couldn’t take chances with Sophie, either.

  Sophie stood by the door, grinning in triumph. “I beat your time, Agent Winter.”

  “So you did, Ms. Valero. What would you like as a prize? More leg and feet massages or a back rub?”

  “Back rub. How soon do I collect?”

  He chuckled and reached past her to open the door. “Tonight if you want it.”

  “Deal.”

  This close to her, the scent of Sophie’s shampoo and soap curled around him and seemed to settle in his soul. The fragrance drew him to her. His lips skimmed hers in a feather light caress. “Wait here while I load our bags. Stay out of sight as long as possible in case we have watchers nearby.”

  Without waiting for her response, Micah grabbed the bags at Sophie’s feet and stowed them in the hatchback of his SUV. One more trip for his stuff, then he escorted Sophie to the passenger seat. Careful quartering of the area as he trudged around the front of his vehicle revealed nothing.

  Once he strapped himself into the driver’s seat, Micah cranked the engine and drove down the snow-covered drive to the road.

  “Where are we going?” Sophie asked around a yawn.

  “There’s a bed-and-breakfast not far from here. I think you’ll like the atmosphere.”

  “If they have room for us. When the weather turns ugly, hotels fill up fast.”

  “True. Rest while you can. It will take an hour or more to get to the Blueberry Inn in these conditions. I’ll wake you.”

  “You said it wasn’t far. Are the road conditions that bad?”

  “The roads aren’t that treacherous yet.” He smiled. “Not for me. Because of what happened tonight, I’m making sure we aren’t followed.”

  “What about bugs?”

  He swallowed the laughter threatening to explode from his chest. Bugs? “Brent checked for tracking devices before he left.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I know him. Besides, he left tracks and body impressions in the snow where he searched the undercarriage.”

  “Okay.” Another yawn, this one wide enough her jaw popped. “Sorry.”

  “Lean back and rest, Sophie. I’ll get us there safely.”

  Within minutes, her breathing settled into a steady rhythm.

  The miles passed with the swish of snow-slicked tires, swipes of the wipers, and him watching the side and rearview mirrors. After backtracking multiple times and turning squares in neighborhoods and business districts, Micah was satisfied that no one followed them. He turned the SUV toward the Blueberry Inn.

  Twenty minutes later, he parked, turned toward Sophie and ran the back of his fingertips down her cheek in a soft caress. “We’re here, Sophie.” He waited until she opened her eyes and focused on him. “Do you want to come in with me or wait here?”

  “Is it safe to wait?” she asked, voice husky with sleep.

  “I don’t think anyone followed us. I’ll leave the engine running. If something or someone scares you, honk the horn. The front desk is only a few feet inside the door. I’ll be here in seconds.”

  Sophie pushed her hair away from her face, leaving the strands more rumpled. “I’ll keep watch. I don’t want to get out unless we stay.”

  “I won’t be long.” Micah reached behind his seat for his bag and pulled out an ID, and a matching credit card before walking into the Blueberry Inn’s lobby.

  The desk clerk, a young woman in her early thirties, looked up from the Patricia Briggs book she was reading and blinked. “Welcome to the Blueberry Inn. I’m Missy. Can I help you?”

  “My wife and I need a room for the night.”

  “You’re in luck. We have one more room available.” She slipped her book marker in place and clicked the computer’s mouse. “Your name?”

  “Mike Johnson.”

  A few taps of the keys, a swipe of his credit card, and Missy turned from the computer and opened a drawer with slots filled with room keys. “Your room has its own bath. We have WiFi and cable. Breakfast is served from 6 to 9. Do you have food restrictions?”

  Micah paused. He hadn’t thought to ask Sophie about food issues before coming inside and he couldn’t very well act like he didn’t know his own wife’s food preferences or allergies. “My wife is eight months pregnant and her stomach is still sensitive.” If they served something she couldn’t eat, Sophie could blame morning sickness for not eating.

  “No problem. My mother cooks breakfast each morning for our guests. We’ll take care of Mrs. Johnson.” Missy handed him a key marked with the number 9. “You can leave your car in the driveway to unload your luggage. The room is upstairs, last door on your right. I’ll be working the desk all night if you need anything.”

  He smiled. “Thanks.”

  Micah returned to the SUV, opened the door. “We’re in luck, Mrs. Johnson. They had one more room.”

  Sophie’s eyes widened. “One?”

  “Afraid so, sweet wife. Let’s get you secured inside the room and I’ll come back for the luggage.”

  “Let me help, Micah. You shouldn’t do all the toting.”

  “I told Missy my name was Mike. If you forget, she’ll think we’re using it as a shortened version of Micah. Don’t forget your new last name is Johnson, though. Not as classy as Valero or as hardy as Winter, but the name is forgettable which is the point.”

  He considered the bags in the luggage area and decided she could carry a couple small ones without throwing off her balance more than what Junior had already accomplished. He grabbed what he could sling over his shoulder and still leave his hand free to st
eady Sophie.

  Inside the lobby, Missy smiled at Sophie. “Welcome to Blueberry Inn, Mrs. Johnson. I’m Missy. If you need anything, let me know.”

  “Thanks.”

  At his direction, Sophie preceded him up the stairs to their room. Micah nudged her to the side of the door frame before he unlocked Room 9 and pushed the door open with his foot. No lights. He slid the bags he carried to the floor and, with a finger to his lips to indicate silence, Micah edged into the room, gun in hand, and turned on the overhead light. He motioned for Sophie to remain in the hallway, checked the closet and bathroom, leaving on lights as he passed through each area. Last, he lifted the ruffled bit of material around the bed. Huh. Not even dust bunnies in this place. A check that the window was locked and he returned to Sophie. “All clear.”

  He moved aside and she swept past him, bags trailing in her wake. Concerned the stress of the last couple days combined with late-term pregnancy might be pushing her too hard, Micah took the bags from her. “Check the bathroom. My mother and sister always gauge a hotel’s acceptability by that room.” Looked fine to him, but as the women in his family told him often enough, the Winter men’s standards resided several cuts below the Winter women.

  “If I don’t approve?”

  “I’ll find someplace more suitable.”

  “You’re something else, Winter. I know you have to be as tired as I am. I’m not putting either of us at risk driving on these roads. I’ll deal with whatever we have for tonight.”

  “I’ll bring the rest of the bags inside and head out to meet Jake. Why don’t you get ready for bed. We’ll talk about the sleeping arrangements when I return.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Sophie waited until Micah closed and locked the door behind him before examining the bathroom. Beautiful white tile gleamed, chrome fixtures sparkled, and the room smelled of lemons. Thick, fluffy blueberry-colored towels and washcloths hung on the rack. Two hand towels of the same color lay on either side of the old-fashioned pedestal sink. She sighed, delighted by the small oasis Micah found in the midst of a snow-covered landscape.