by Laura Scott
“Should I climb down to meet you someplace?”
“No, stay where you are. Don’t worry, I’ll find you.” The last thing he wanted was for her to leave the sanctuary of the tree house. He was surprised she’d even suggested it, especially since the temperature outside was below freezing. Hopefully, the structure would provide her some shelter from the wind. He couldn’t help admiring Kari’s strength and determination. “I’ll call again when I find the two houses you mentioned.”
“Okay, thanks.”
The phone went dead and he had the insane urge to call her back, to keep her on the line. Which was ridiculous since he needed to concentrate on finding the Cape Cod and ranch home she’d identified. Blazing Christmas lights were an added bonus.
Driving up one street and down the next had stretched his patience to the limit, when he abruptly found them. She’d been right about the Christmas decorations; the brown ranch had red and green spotlights outside shining on the birch trees in the front yard. On the other side was the white Cape Cod she’d mentioned. And nestled between them, a small house with either gray or light blue siding.
Marc pulled over to the side of the road and threw the gearshift into Park. Kari had run farther than she’d realized, since this place was a good ten blocks from the safe house. He glanced around, making sure no one else was lurking nearby.
The area seemed quiet, peaceful and deserted, not entirely surprising considering it was nearly three o’clock in the morning.
He grabbed his phone then slipped from the car, closing the door as quietly as possible behind him. He walked up the driveway of the white Cape Cod, before making his way across the snow to the backyard of the grayish-blue house.
There was a huge tree located dead center of the grassy area. It wasn’t until he was directly underneath it that he could make out the roughly constructed tree house.
How on earth had Kari noticed it?
He called her phone, smiling grimly when he could hear a low buzz from up above. Smart girl, she had her phone on vibrate.
“Agent Callahan?”
“I found your tree house,” he said in a hushed tone. “How did you get up there, anyway?”
“There’s a rope ladder. Stay back. I’ll climb down.”
He disconnected from the call, slipping his phone in his back pocket. When the rope ladder appeared through a square opening in the base of the tree house, he waited until it hit the ground before grabbing it with both hands and holding it steady. He felt the tension on the rope when she began climbing.
When she was close enough, he stepped back, giving her room to maneuver. She stepped off the ladder, then stumbled sideways as her legs gave out.
Marc instinctively reached out to catch her in his arms. “Easy, you’re safe now.”
Her entire body shook; her fingers curled into his black leather jacket as if holding on for dear life. “I know. But I twisted my ankle climbing out the window,” she confessed.
He tightened his grip on her slender frame, biting back a flash of frustration intermixed with anger. This poor woman shouldn’t have had to climb out a window and then run for her life in the snow and cold. Of course, a good cop shouldn’t have been shot, either.
None of this boded well for the upcoming trial.
She let out a squeak of surprise when he swept her into his arms. “What are you doing?” she asked, her arms clamping tightly around his neck.
Ignoring the obvious, he swiftly retraced his previous route between the two houses, carrying her to the street. When he reached his car, he gently set her down, waiting until she was steady before releasing her.
“I could have walked,” she protested, leaning against the vehicle in a way that took weight off her left leg.
He shrugged and opened the passenger-side door. “Walking on a bad sprain delays healing,” he muttered, wondering who he was trying to convince. Once she was safely inside the car, he shut the door and then jogged around to the driver’s side.
For some odd reason her cranberry-vanilla scent seemed to cling to his clothing. He gave himself a mental head-smack to snap himself back to reality.
He hadn’t been this acutely aware of a woman in a long time. A full two years had passed since his wife’s death in a terrible car crash. He’d locked his emotions away in a deep freeze; no reason for the ice in his heart to melt now.
Kari Danville might be pretty with her chocolate-brown hair and deep brown eyes, but she was also his witness. Once the trial was over and she was relocated with a new identity, he’d never see her again.
A fact that suited him just fine.
“Where are we going?” Kari asked, breaking the strained silence between them.
He cleared his throat. “Somewhere safe.”
She scowled and crossed her arms defensively across her chest. “Yeah, that was what you said two days ago.”
Knowing she was right didn’t make things easier. “I know.”
“I don’t understand. How did they find me?” she demanded. “I thought no one knew where I was staying?”
The same question had been badgering him since the moment he’d answered her call. And he hated to admit the implication of the night’s events was staggering. “If you haven’t called anyone—”
“I haven’t!”
“—then there must be a leak somewhere.”
Her mouth opened, shut and then opened again. “What department? The police? The FBI?”
“I’m not sure,” he admitted, trying to hide the weariness in his voice. “The bank-robbery task force has both Milwaukee Police detectives and FBI agents involved. Either way, I intend to get to the bottom of this.”
“It doesn’t make sense,” she murmured. “No logical reason that anyone working within law enforcement would attempt to protect a bank robber.”
He was inclined to agree. “You’re right, but I don’t have any other explanation. Do you?”
“No.” She turned away, staring out the window in a way that made him frown. Had he imagined the flash of guilt in her eyes? Was she hiding something?
Trust didn’t come easily, especially when it came to women. His wife’s secret had killed her, leaving him reeling from the extent of her lies.
“Kari, tell me the truth. Did you call anyone other than me?” he asked.
“No, I didn’t. Check my phone if you want.” She pulled out the disposable cell he’d given her and dropped it in the cup holder between them.
Marc picked up the phone and tucked it in his pocket. He could check her calls, but he doubted they’d found her via a throw-away phone.
No, it was more likely that one of the officers involved in protecting her had leaked the safe-house location. On purpose? By accident?
“Maybe they traced me through your phone calls,” she said in a frost-tinged voice. “I might be better off alone.”
He couldn’t argue her logic about the possible trace on his calls, especially if the leak was someone within the task force. But abandoning her was out of the question. “You’re not better off alone. For one thing...you need to testify in court, or all of this would be for nothing. Remember, an innocent man has died because of Jamison.”
She sighed, but didn’t say anything.
“I promise you’re safe with me. And you’re right, I have no way of knowing where the leak is coming from.” He opened his window and tossed out his work cell phone, wincing a bit when it shattered on the asphalt. Then he tossed out her disposable phone, as well.
“I—I can’t believe you did that,” she gasped in surprise.
“Yeah, well, I promised to keep you safe, didn’t I?” He headed for the nearest on-ramp, intending to take the interstate in a northwest direction. He needed to find a motel, preferably off the beaten track.
“Yes, you did,”
she murmured in a subdued voice.
They drove in silence for a good ten minutes. He kept his eyes peeled for an appropriate place to stop for what was left of the night.
“Agent Callahan?”
“Call me Marc,” he suggested gruffly. No reason to stand on formality, not when they were going to be spending the next five days together.
“I— There’s something I need to tell you.”
His gut tightened with apprehension. Had Kari done something that caused the leak after all? “What?”
She twisted her fingers in her lap, clearly nervous. “I’m pregnant.”
“Excuse me?” He shook his head, certain he hadn’t heard her correctly.
“I’m pregnant,” she repeated. “I’m due in about six months.”
Whatever he’d expected her to say, this wasn’t it. He struggled to pull his scattered thoughts into some semblance of order. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”
“My personal life wasn’t any of your business. But now I need you to understand how important it is for me to be safe. Plus, I had to leave my prenatal vitamins behind, so we’ll need to stop at a drugstore so I can pick up another bottle.”
Pregnant? Vitamins?
The knowledge that Kari was expecting shouldn’t affect him like this, but somehow the nightmare of his past collided with the present.
No one knew the truth about his wife. How Jessica had been pregnant when she’d died.
Or the fact that DNA testing had proven he wasn’t the baby’s father.
He shook off the overwhelming sense of failure with effort. Jessica’s lies didn’t matter right now. He needed to focus on the situation at hand.
He gripped the steering wheel tightly. A dead cop and a breached safe house. Things couldn’t get much worse than that. He needed to get control of this situation and fast.
Before any more innocent people were placed in harm’s way.
TWO
A thick, heavy silence stretched between them, to the point Kari felt as if she might suffocate. Tension radiated off Marc’s body in waves, battering her already-frayed nerves.
She didn’t know what he was thinking. Was he upset with her for some reason? And if so, why? She was the one who’d been forced to run from a madman shooting at her. She was the one who’d almost been killed.
Her baby that had been placed in danger.
Five minutes passed, then ten. Finally, she couldn’t stand it a moment longer. “What is your problem? Why are you mad at me?”
He relaxed his grip on the steering wheel, glancing over at her in surprise. “I’m not.”
“Really? Then why are you scowling?”
He grimaced. “Because a good cop died tonight and someone almost killed you. Isn’t that enough of a reason to be angry?”
“I guess.” She turned to stare blindly out the passenger-side window, wondering when Agent Callahan, er—Marc—would find a place to stop. The aftermath of adrenaline left her feeling shaky and weak. Exhausted.
Of course her fatigue could just as easily be related to her condition.
He fell silent again, maybe brooding about the case. A few minutes later, he exited the freeway. He waited for the light to turn green before heading down to a parking lot located in front of a small single-story motel. No fancy names here, just Ravenswood Motel located in the nondescript and unincorporated town of Ravenswood.
When he pulled up in front of the lobby, he turned off the car and took the keys out of the ignition. “I need you to wait here.”
She sighed. “Not like I have much choice considering my ankle is swollen and hurts like crazy.”
He barely looked at her. “If it’s just a sprain, I’d rather not risk taking you to an emergency department.”
Yeah, she wasn’t really keen on that idea, either. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
He gave a terse nod, then pushed open his door and slid out from behind the wheel. The moment he disappeared inside, she was nearly overwhelmed by a wave of loneliness.
Ridiculous, because she wasn’t alone. Marc was here with her. But the sense of camaraderie she’d experienced earlier seemed to have vanished.
Where was the nice, chivalrous guy who’d carried her to the car so she wouldn’t have to walk on her bum ankle? The man who’d tossed out his own cell phone as a way to keep her safe?
She blew out a breath, realizing that his changed attitude was likely because she was pregnant and not married. From the moment she’d discovered she was expecting, she’d run into some of the same judgmental sneers, especially from the older generation.
Not that she was proud of the fact she’d given in to temptation. At the time she’d justified her actions by the fact that she and Vince were engaged to be married in a few short months. They were in love, or so she’d thought.
Until he’d disappeared without a trace, leaving her high and dry. And pregnant.
Shame tasted bitter on her tongue, but she refused to let it get to her. Her baby was a precious gift, one she was determined to cherish, no matter what.
Ironically, the place she’d found solace and acceptance had been in her friend Amy’s church. The people there had been wonderful, including the pastor. Someday, soon, she’d have her baby baptized there.
Something to look forward to.
The thought of raising her baby alone was both thrilling and terrifying. She wished her mother were still alive to offer some advice. Especially since her own father, much like Vince, had disappeared, leaving her mother and her to survive on their own.
Despite being abandoned, her mother had always maintained a sunny outlook on life, while providing a loving, stable home environment for Kari. Not that things had been easy, because they hadn’t. Still, she couldn’t complain. In fact, she hoped and prayed she’d find a way to do the same with her own baby.
Marc returned to the car, interrupting her thoughts with his intimidating presence, even as he wordlessly slid behind the wheel. He drove the short distance to park in front of room number seven. He climbed out again, then came around to open her passenger-side door. “Ready?”
“Of course.” She summoned the strength to swing her legs around, wincing when she placed pressure on her left ankle. Marc surprised her by holding out his arm. “Lean on me.”
The radiating pain shooting through her foot didn’t give her much choice. She braced herself on his arm and hobbled the few steps it took to reach the door. Then she rested against the wall of the building, waiting for him to use the motel key card to open the door.
He held out his hand again, so she leaned against him, making her way inside. By the time she collapsed on the bed, her ankle felt as if it might explode. She closed her eyes, fighting a sense of helplessness.
Not being able to walk made her dependent on Marc for more than just keeping her safe.
Her eyelids sprang open in surprise when he lifted her swollen ankle up off the mattress. “What are you doing?”
“You need to keep this elevated on pillows,” he said calmly, untying her shoe and stuffing two pillows beneath her calf and heel. He gently probed the skin around her ankle, emitting a low whistle from under his breath. “This looks worse than I expected.”
She wasn’t sure what to say to that. He disappeared into the bathroom, ran water and then returned with an icy cold towel, which he wrapped tightly around her ankle. She had to admit the coolness against her swollen joint offered a bit of relief.
“I’ll get some ice.” He grabbed the plastic bucket off the small table and disappeared again, the door of the motel room closing loudly behind him.
She let out her pent-up breath in a heavy sigh. Was it normal for FBI agents to blow hot and cold so quickly? One minute he’s scowling and brooding, the next he’s fetching ice for her ankle.
Men. Who could figure them out? Vince had already fooled her once; she refused to be gullible again.
She placed a protective hand over her abdomen. She’d dreamed of having a large family, a future Vince had conned her into believing he wanted, as well. Unfortunately, it wasn’t meant to be.
She was facing her future, alone.
Please, Lord, give me strength.
The door opened a few minutes later and Marc walked in, bringing the familiar sandalwood scent with him. She didn’t want to be so aware of him, but she was. He wrapped some crushed ice in a towel and then pressed it against her ankle.
“Thanks,” she murmured.
He pulled up a chair and sat down beside her. “We need to talk.”
What she really needed was sleep, but she turned her head to look at him. “Okay.”
“Where’s your baby’s father?”
Huh? She frowned, wondering why it mattered. “I have no clue. I haven’t seen him in a long time.”
His green eyes were skeptical. “Are you sure? He’s probably worried about you. Give me his name and contact information. I’ll find a way to keep him informed.”
She stifled a sigh. “Vince left me three months ago. He doesn’t even know I’m pregnant.”
He lifted a surprised brow. “Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, Vince what?” Marc picked up the motel pen and notepad.
“Ackerman. Vince Ackerman.” She rattled off the last phone number she had for him. “You can try to call, but trust me, the line has been disconnected. I honestly don’t have any idea where he is.”
“I believe you.” His tone was considerate, but that didn’t stop him from writing Vince’s name and number on the sheet of paper. “Did Detective Monique Barclay do a background check on him?”
She shrugged. “I have no idea.” She wasn’t sure why anyone cared about Vince. It wasn’t as if he was involved in the bank robberies.
“Try to get some rest, okay?”
“Sure.” Easier said than done with the way her ankle throbbed.
“I’ll be in the connecting room right next door.” He rose to his feet, then hesitated, staring at the motel phone that sat on the bedside table beside her.
