by Lauren Bach
"Don't." She tried to dart away, but he stopped her. Catching her wrists, he bound them with a strip of gauze he'd stashed in his pocket earlier.
"Jumping from a moving car could mess you up," he warned dispassionately. "If it didn't kill you, that is."
"I won't jump." It was a lie. First chance she got, she would try to get away.
"Good." Tugging her upper arm, he pulled her to the passenger door. When she opened her mouth to complain, he cut her off. "I hope it won't be necessary to gag you."
Frustrated, Renata swallowed her protests and climbed into the car. Bide your time, your moment will come, she told herself.
As they pulled out, she looked back at the clinic. The lights were off, the door locked. With her car gone, nothing looked suspicious. If the police did go door- to-door they wouldn't suspect anything. And if Clarence returned he'd simply think she'd gone home on her own.
Her hopes sank even further as she recalled that she worked second shift tomorrow. It could be late afternoon before anyone even missed her. How long after that before someone called the police? And unless they suspected foul play, what was the rule on reporting missing adults? Forty-eight hours?
She closed her eyes, offered a brief prayer for her own safety.
The trip to Yanceyville, a sleepy community about an hour north, was uneventful except for the gusty winds and rain that steadily increased. Between the flood and the false Fayetteville sighting Renata phoned in, the cops were busy elsewhere.
Adam watched the rearview mirror, wondered if Ethan's men were trailing them or simply monitoring the tracking device. He hoped the latter, not wanting to arouse suspicion.
Jessup's Truck Stop was the only business on that particular stretch of highway. Surrounded by dark woods and pastures, the parking lot was crowded with eighteen-wheelers in spite of the large spray-painted sign that read "NO GAS." Many of the trucks were probably stranded until road conditions cleared and fuel was available; others were waiting for businesses to reopen, or for instructions where to leave their freight.
In the back of the lot sat a white Buick LaSabre with dark tinted windows. Adam parked Renata's car and approached the Buick cautiously.
Inside was a sheet of paper with typed instructions. A handwritten postscript said supplies in trunk. Adam read the directions, memorizing what he could. They were headed toward the Appalachian Mountains, to a rural area of northern Virginia. He hoped all the roads between here and there were passable.
He checked the contents of the Buick's trunk to make certain Nevin hadn't left another handgun. A cooler sat beside a flashlight and a coil of rope. A pair of handcuffs, key in the lock, was included along with some clothes for Lyle and a bottle of prescription painkillers.
Adam read the bottle's label. The powerful narcotic was familiar. It received a lot of press about its potential for abuse. The street demand for the drug was so high many small pharmacies refused to carry it after being targeted for break-ins.
The cooler held water, some peanut butter, crackers and a pocketknife. No ice. Judging by these supplies,they weren't expected to be on the road long. He slid the knife in his pocket along with the prescription.
Behind him, someone coughed.
Adam spun around, gun drawn. He scanned the shadowy tree line. While he couldn't see anyone, he sensed a person about twenty feet to his left. He raised his gun, finger on the trigger. If it was Ethan's men again, he'd shoot them.
"Come out, slowly."
"Easy there." A wiry man not much older than Lyle, stepped forward, a rifle in hand. "I'm a friend of Nevin's."
Adam lowered his weapon.
The man did likewise. "Just verifying it was you. We get our share of riffraff here, so I was reluctant to leave the car with the keys in it and all."
"Appreciate it." Adam tried to get a better look at the man without being obvious. How close a friend was he? "Is Nevin around? Lyle's eager to see him."
"Nobody sees him. Man's a ghost."
"Safer that way," He shrugged faking indifference.
"Make sure you leave keys in your vehicle so we can drive it off."
Adam's ears perked at the word we. How many more friends did Nevin have tucked in the woods? "Will do. Anything else?"
"Yeah. Tell Lyle that Griz says to keep his eye to the sky."
"I'll give him the message."
But the man had already disappeared into the mist.
Adam closed the trunk and moved the Buick closer to Renata's car. He helped Lyle into the Buick.
The younger man moved slowly, cursing frequently. "Did Nevin leave anything for pain?"
Adam dug the pills out of his pocket. "Should I check with Renata before you take these?"
Lyle took the bottle, scanned the label. "Nah, I've taken this stuff before. And the doc would probably rather see me suffer without anything."
"By the way, I met a friend of yours."
"Who?"
"Griz." Adam repeated the message. "What the hell does that mean? Should we expect trouble?"
"It means they're planning a diversion."
"What kind?"
"Not sure. I'll have to check with Nevin."
While Lyle tried to get comfortable, Adam transferred the medical supplies. Then he went to get Renata. He briefly debated substituting handcuffs for the gauze but didn't want to waste any more time. Or risk Ethan's men coming in for a closer look.
Adam opened her car door and reached to help her.
She leaned away. "Let me stay in my car. Please! I swear I won't call the police or tell anyone."
He knew Griz and Company were still watching them; probably waiting to report to Nevin that they'd departed. Leaving her behind would place her in even greater danger: They wouldn't tolerate a witness. Adam tugged her out, helped her stand. She was trembling. Afraid. Until he'd touched her. Now her eyes flashed with boldness. In the face of her fear, she had spirit.
"Sorry, but I'm starting to like having you around" he said.
Chapter Seven
They drove for five hours, crossing into Virginia and then weaving north. Adam pressed hard knowing it was critical to reach their destination while it was dark.
Their route had been well chosen. The roads had some traffic but no roadblocks. While Virginia didn't have the same degree of flooding that North Carolina had parts of the state had received record rainfalls. And according to the radio, as the new storm system brought more precipitation to the mid-Atlantic, flood warnings would soon be posted along the entire eastern seaboard.
Just before dawn, Adam made the last turn onto a rocky lane that led to a large barn near the edge of a recently mowed hayfield. He glanced at Renata. She hadn't said much since they'd left Yanceyville. Which made him wonder what she was thinking.
When they stopped, Lyle roused from a drug-in- duced slumber. "Are we there yet?"
"Afraid so." Adam reread the directions. Follow lane to barn. That was it? He grabbed the flashlight. "Let me check it out. I'll be right back."
Renata leaned forward watched him disappear.
"What's he doing now?" Lyle asked.
"He went inside." She heard the back seat squeak as Lyle shifted.
"You sound nervous, Doc. Afraid?"
"No."
He started to laugh, then groaned as if in pain. The sound was macabre. Practically nonhuman.
She glanced over her shoulder. In the dark, and with Lyle lying down, she wasn't able to see anything. "Are you okay?"
For a moment he didn't answer, then he rasped "No. I need your help."
With her hands tied she couldn't do much. Concerned she looked out the window, but saw no sign of Adam. "Tell me what's wrong," she said.
"What's wrong? I think I explained earlier. Nine months, fourteen days. I'm so horny, my dick hurts." Again that creepy, disembodied laughter followed.
The painkillers. Lyle was high.
When Adam mentioned the narcotic, she warned that Lyle shouldn't self-medicate. Besides alter
ing his moods and perceptions, the drug could mask the severity of his injury, conceal the symptoms of other problems.
In Lyle's case, the drug seemed to amplify his innate nastiness. When she'd been left with him at the clinic, she'd learned that he wasn't nearly as strong as he'd acted which made his remarks no less repulsive.
"Why don't you climb back here and sit with me," Lyle whispered. "And I'll show you what you can do to make me feel better."
Renata jerked as cold fingers brushed against her neck then tightened pulling her hair.
The inside of the empty barn had enough room for several vehicles. Adam's curiosity about who owned the property and what connection they had to the McEdwins spiked. Did the owner realize he housed fugitives? The FBI had long suspected the McEdwins had others helping them—finally they'd have names.
A sagging bench was tacked against one wall. Beneath the bench were four five-gallon containers of gasoline, more than enough to fill the car.
On top of the bench was another cooler. A note and map were tucked under the edge. Adam read them, then returned to the Buick.
As soon as he climbed back in, he knew something had happened. Renata had her back pressed to the car door and was agitated.
"Everything okay?"
"Terrific." Lyle was sitting up now, his breathing labored. "Oow."
Adam turned. "You shouldn't move without help."
"The help's tied up. What did you find inside?"
"This." Adam passed Lyle the note and map before driving the car inside the barn. "We head to West Virginia next. Any of those places look familiar?"
Lyle tossed the map back over the seat. "Shit. To be honest, it's all familiar. I did a lot of deer hunting in that area when I was younger. Nevin mentioned using 'interim solutions' to hide us during daylight hours. But I expected more than a friggin' barn."
"Me, too, kid. But it hides the car and gives us a place to catch some shut-eye."
Adam just hoped their next destination wasn't another interim solution. Yes, he would expect the McEdwins to be extremely cautious about meeting Lyle, especially with a manhunt underway. However, the McEdwins weren't in Adam's shoes: fleeing police with a wounded man and a kidnapped doctor, in a car that would eventually be reported stolen to protect the owner.
Shutting off the engine, he climbed out and shut the barn doors. Then he opened Renata's car door, helped her stand. He noted the dark smudges beneath her eyes. She hadn't slept during the night, and had to be feeling tired and stressed.
Hell, he was exhausted. It had been over thirty-six hours since he'd slept. He withdrew the pocketknife and flipped the blade open.
"Raise your hands." He sliced through the gauze.
He knew she hated being tied. He empathized, remembered having his hands and feet shackled while being at the mercy of another. He had hated it, too.
He took her right wrist, examining it for signs of chafing. He trailed his fingers lightly over the bruises he'd caused when they'd fought over the scalpel. They bothered him.
"We're stuck here for the day. If you need to use the bathroom, we've got to do it now, before the sun rises."
She looked around the barn. "Where?"
"Outside."
Her cheeks flushed. "Can I go alone?"
From the back seat, Lyle snickered. "Hey man, I'll take her."
"No!" She pulled away, glancing over her shoulder.
Adam frowned. He suspected something had passed between these two earlier, and knowing Lyle, it hadn't been pleasant. He stepped closer to her. "Come on."
Outside, dawn lightened the veil across the sky. The ground surrounding the barn was muddy, saturated with rain.
"You know it's pointless to run," he said.
Renata looked at the empty fields and nodded. The urge to flee was strong, but as desperate as she felt, she wasn't stupid. She'd been able to wiggle free of Lyle's grip in the car after underestimating him; she wouldn't make the same mistake with Adam.
To her surprise, Adam turned his back, offering her a modicum of privacy. She squinted searching for a bush, a tree, but the landscape was barren. Semi-darkness was her only cover.
Resentful, she eyed his silhouette, knew his courteousness was merely an act. He was too close and the sky was growing light. If she tried to escape, it would be easy enough to shoot her.
But would he? She recalled his not retaliating for her stabbing him and his having the gun on safety earlier. Neither act made him a saint.
He seemed to know instinctively when to turn. That, or he peeked. Avoiding his eyes, Renata walked straight for the barn.
He hooked her arm as she passed, stopping her. "Anything you'd like to talk about?"
She looked at his hand. "Sure. When will I be released?"
"Soon. But—"
A dull whoosh-whoosh echoed in the distance, interrupting their conversation.
Renata recognized the sound. Spotting the helicopter, she twisted tried to tug free. If she could just break away long enough to wave her arms and get the pilot's attention.
Adam pulled his gun. "Inside. Now!"
She resisted. "No! They might be looking for me."
Her five-foot-three was no match for his six-four. With ease he yanked her back into the barn. She stumbled, then righted herself.
Adam peered out the door. As the helicopter passed overhead, he stepped outside again. Renata tried to rush past, but he stopped her. She read the lettering on the chopper's underbelly as it disappeared.
"False alarm," he said, releasing her and closing the door. "Acme Timber—aerial survey."
From behind them, Lyle let out a noisy sigh. "Cripes. I thought we were fucking goners."
Renata turned. Lyle had the car door open, a cigarette in his hand. He could barely breathe yet he was smoking. The man was brainless.
He blew a streamer of smoke in her direction and coughed. "Yeah, I know. It'll kill me. But you're hoping I die anyway, right? Make your life simpler."
She opened her mouth, then closed it, as his barb struck too close to home. Did she really think that? Wish for his death so she could be freed? She mentally sidestepped the question. If Lyle died, there was no guarantee Adam would release her.
Adam moved in and held out a bottle of water and a package of crackers. "Eat, then you can check him."
He offered the same to Lyle, who took the water to swallow more pain pills, but set the crackers aside untouched.
"I'm too tired to eat."
"You should try anyway." Adam helped him back in the car. "It might help you regain some strength."
"I doubt a couple crackers will make much difference," Lyle said. "Right, Doc?"
Renata poked her last bite into her mouth, more hungry than she'd realized. She cleaned her hands before donning latex gloves.
"Everything helps. Especially the water. With the blood you've lost, fluids are vital."
"What the hell is that for then?" Lyle pointed to the IV she had reconnected.
"To keep your blood volume stable. And to get the antibiotic into your system quicker." She pointed to his bandage. Blood had seeped through the layers of gauze, staining them. "When you strain, you restart the bleeding."
But Lyle was already drifting to sleep. When she finished Adam carried the supplies back to the trunk.
Renata took advantage of the moment to study her surroundings. Faint light seeped in from outside. The barn was quite old and weather-beaten, and had either been deserted for a long time or had been emptied just for them. The thick layer of straw strewn across the dirt appeared to be fresh and wouldn't show tire tracks or footprints. She didn't detect any animal smells, or see signs of any farm equipment, making her wonder if the barn was used solely as a safe haven for criminals.
She watched Adam refill the car's gas tank using the five-gallon cans. "Are we taking off again?"
He shook his head. "Just staying prepared."
"For a quick getaway?"
"If necessary."
When he
finished he came up behind her, herding her toward the open car door. "Climb back in. We need to get some sleep."
"I'm not tired."
"Fine. You still have to get in the car. And I still have to restrain you again."
Renata had mentally prepared herself for this; knew she wouldn't remain unbound. But unlike before when he'd tied her, she had a plan. She had spent part of the car ride discreetly loosening the old gauze. She was confident that given more time, she could work free of her new bonds.
The challenge was what to do, then. Timing was critical, as she'd only get one chance.
She got back in the front seat and watched as Adam knelt beside her. When he grasped her wrists, she pulled back, putting up token resistance so he wouldn't become suspicious.
Then she heard the chink of metal, and began struggling in earnest. "No handcuffs!"
"You'd loosen the gauze sooner or later, and I can't risk it." He depressed a lever to recline the seat before putting an arm to her shoulder, to force her backwards. "Just in case you change your mind about snoozing."
She scowled. They both knew reclining would make it even more difficult to move with her hands cuffed.
Adam climbed behind the wheel and slouched toward the doorframe. Ignoring her, he yawned and closed his eyes. Renata watched in amazement as he almost immediately fell asleep.
God she hated him.
Adam watched her through slitted eyes, wondered what she was thinking. He knew the types of things that went through a hostage's mind was familiar with the psychology of a prisoner. But that didn't tell him her personal slant on the situation.
Renata was a strong woman, a problem solver. Yes, she was scared but she wouldn't let fear stop her. First and foremost she'd try to escape. He needed to anticipate her; watch her closely. Which wouldn't be difficult. She was easy on the eyes.
Too easy. The pull of attraction surprised him. She wasn't his type. He preferred redheads. Tall ones. Short women were hard for men his height to kiss— unless you were in bed with them.
Of course he hadn't had any trouble kissing her the night before, when he'd needed to confiscate her pager. He'd damn near forgotten his mission.
