Epiphany

by Rita Herron

  Merry heard the concern in his voice. If he was worried—“What about emergency vehicles?”

  He shook his head and brushed water from his eyes. “I tried to call while I was outside. No signal.”

  “Do you want to try my phone?”

  “After we get in the truck. Get your coat.”

  As Trevor waited for Merry, he swept ashes over the burning coals of the fire and made sure the fire screen was in place. Then he brushed droplets of melted ice off his arms and shoulders and shrugged into his jacket.

  He was worried. Not only was there no telephone signal, he was certain that even if he could get in touch with emergency personnel, routine labor and delivery probably would rank very low on their priority list on a night such as this.

  Merry came out of the bedroom, carrying his flashlight. In its pale reflection, her face looked drawn and tired.

  Trevor reached for her, steadying her against him and taking the flashlight. “Did you have another contraction?”

  He felt her soft hair against his chin as she nodded.

  “Not quite twenty minutes apart,” he said, trying to remember the classes he’d taken with Lisa four years ago.

  “Not quite,” she replied.

  “I’ve got the fire banked. Let’s go.” He kept his left arm around her waist and gripped her right hand in his.

  He would not let anything happen to this baby.

  After guiding her carefully across the ice as if she were an invalid, Trevor helped Merry into the pickup.

  She fastened the seat belt, leaned back in the seat and took a deep breath. She was exhausted, and yet she knew that for her, the night had barely begun.

  Even though everything was quiet around them, Merry felt a sense of danger closing in. The baby inside her was demanding more and more of her attention, but at the same time her mind was racing. She was amazed at how many details she’d forgotten about the night of her attack, until Trevor had coaxed them out by asking just the right questions.

  As he climbed in the driver’s side, and stuck the key into the ignition, she touched his forearm. His muscles bunched beneath her fingers.

  “What is it?” His voice held a tinge of panic. “Another contraction?”

  “No. I’m sorry.” Embarrassed, she pulled her hand away. “I just—” She’d just needed to touch his strong body for reassurance.

  “I was thinking about Bonner. How can you be so certain he’s a professional killer?”

  Trevor didn’t answer her immediately. His concentration was centered on getting the truck onto the road. Occasionally the tires spun.

  His knuckles were white on the steering wheel and his broad brow was furrowed. She didn’t want to distract him, so she kept quiet.

  Finally he answered. “I’m not absolutely certain. But if what you’ve told me is true, whoever attacked you was prepared, methodical and informed, not to mention arrogant.”

  “Arrogant?”

  He nodded. “Sure. What did you tell me he said? You cheated death once. Now it’s time for you to join your husband? He knew all about you. And he never doubted his ability to kill you.”

  A contraction was building, but oddly, Merry’s head was remarkably clear, her brain quickly assessing everything Trevor said and everything she now remembered.

  She put her hand on his knee, needing the physical connection with him but knowing he couldn’t let go of the steering wheel. His thigh muscle jumped.

  “You think the same person who hired Bonner killed my husband.” She didn’t even bother to make it a question. “I was supposed to go with Zach that day, but I had morning sickness so bad I couldn’t lift my head. I would have been in that helicopter when it crashed.” Helpless fear choked her.

  Trevor sent her an assessing glance. “Who would want you and your husband—” he paused “—and your baby dead?”

  Her face looked pale and pinched in the dimness. “No one. I can’t believe the helicopter crash was anything but an accident. No one wants me dead.”

  “Who stands to inherit if you die?”

  Merry hugged herself. “My…my parents are still alive, but eventually it would be my twin sister.”

  “What about on the Randolph side?”

  “Zach was the oldest. He was being groomed to take over the business from his father. Now it’s this little guy, I guess.”

  “What about your brother-in-law?”

  She shook her head. “He’s not interested in working. At all.”

  A contraction hit her. For several seconds Merry could do nothing but focus on the pain. Vaguely she was aware of the truck slowing, then stopping, and of Trevor’s body shifting in his seat.

  He took her hands in his. Merry had the sensation of soft, firm lips against her fingers. Then a brush of warmth against her neck.

  Once the contraction passed and she opened her eyes, Trevor’s face was only inches from hers and his hand cupped the back of her neck.

  “Okay?” he whispered.

  She nodded. Her gaze dropped to his mouth. His lips were so close. All she’d have to do was tilt her head up, just slightly—

  His hand tightened on her neck and his thumb caressed her jawline.

  Her entire body was awash with emotion. She wanted to cry and to laugh, to hold and to be held. She wanted her baby in her arms. She wanted Trevor.

  He groaned almost inaudibly and leaned toward her until his warm breath brushed her cheek.

  She was afraid to move, afraid he’d come to his senses.

  There was no light except for the odd white glow of ice all around them, no sound but the whisper of falling sleet.

  “Merry—” His lips tickled her temple, and he lay his cheek against her hair. She pressed her nose into the cool, fragrant leather of his jacket.

  “Ah, Merry, you don’t know me,” he whispered.

  “Tell me,” she said. “Tell me why you’re so sad.”

  His whole body went still as a stone. He shook his head. “It’s not important.”

  She looked up at him and touched his cheek. “It is to me. Your wife was pregnant, wasn’t she?”

  He recoiled. “What’s important is getting you to a hospital,” he said shortly, quickly shifting into gear. The tires crunched as he carefully increased speed.

  “Nothing is going to happen to me or the baby. I trust you.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t,” he snapped, furious with himself. He’d let the night, the situation and his emotions get the better of him.

  Well, it wouldn’t happen again. He clenched his jaw until his head hurt, until the physical pain overrode the longing to confide in her.

  Merry was his assignment. Nothing more.

  As he maneuvered the truck across the frozen surface of the road, his cell phone rang. He fished in his pocket and pulled it out, glancing at the display.

  “Captain,” he said. “There’s almost no signal.”

  “Trevor, we’ve got a problem.”

  Trevor’s body tensed. “Yeah?” He tried to keep his voice even, but Merry frowned at him.

  “Bonner’s dead.”

  The words sent shock waves echoing through Trevor’s brain. He didn’t speak.

  “The Delonhaga police found him on the side of a road. He’d practically been sliced in two by automatic weapons fire.”

  “Automatic—” Trevor cursed silently. So he was right. Someone had hired Bonner, and whoever it was had just disposed of the only man who could identify him.

  Captain Jones said something else, but the signal cut out.

  “Captain, I can’t hear you.”

  “—stay put and be careful. We’ll—”

  “We can’t! Merry’s in labor. I’m driving her—” The noise on the other end of the phone deteriorated into dead silence. He glanced at his phone.

  “Dammit!”

  “Trevor, was that your captain? What did he say?” Merry asked, her tone shrill with worry.

  “Give me your phone.”

  She dug into
her purse and pulled out a high-end camera phone.

  “Dial this number.” He gave her the digits.

  She looked at the phone and shook her head. “I don’t have a signal, either.”

  She grabbed the sleeve of his jacket. “Tell me what your captain said.”

  He searched her face, torn between his urge to protect her from the truth and his certainty that she would be better prepared if she knew everything.

  He took his hand off the steering wheel and grasped hers. “Bonner’s dead.”

  Her fingers instinctively tightened around his.

  “How…how is that possible?”

  “He was murdered.” Trevor rubbed his thumb along her knuckles, a meager attempt to give her comfort.

  “Murdered? Who—”

  Trevor sent a glance her way and saw the dawning horror in her eyes.

  “Whoever hired him to kill me.” Her voice was flat.

  It broke Trevor’s heart that she had to know someone wanted her dead. “I’m sorry, Merry.”

  She shook her head, her eyes glistening with tears. “I don’t know anybody who could want me dead. I never hurt anyone.”

  Trevor could believe that. She was kind and loving.

  “This kind of calculating plan isn’t personal,” he said. “It’s most likely got to do with money or power.”

  A tiny gasp escaped her lips. “Oh, my God. You think it’s Lawrence. You think he hired Bonner to kill those widows so my death would look the same, as if I were murdered by a serial killer.” Her breath hitched.

  “Is Lawrence capable of murder?”

  Merry just shook her head as another sob shook her slender shoulders.

  Resisting an urge to pound the steering wheel in frustration, Trevor focused on the horizon. He saw a faint glow in the distance.

  “Look,” he said, forcing a lightness he didn’t feel into his voice. “See that glow? That’s the interstate, just a few miles away. If we can get there, the roads will be passable. The road crews will have had time to sand and salt them.”

  He reached over and touched her shoulder. “Merry? You’re going to be fine. I’m here to protect you.”

  She didn’t respond.

  Trevor focused his full attention on his driving. He turned onto the two-lane road he’d traveled this morning. There were no streetlights, and if the road had reflective paint, it was hidden under the layer of ice.

  Beside him, Merry cried out sharply and sucked in a deep breath.

  Dammit. Her contractions were getting closer and closer together. He hoped the news of Bonner’s murder wasn’t affecting her labor.

  “You’ve got to hang in there, Merry. Just a little while longer.” His words were ominously familiar. He’d been through this before. “Can you turn and rest your weight on your side? Sometimes that can slow the contractions. And don’t push. Hold on.”

  “I’m…trying,” she huffed. “This baby’s not—cooperating. Have—you ever tried to force a baby—to listen to you?”

  Trevor’s heart felt as brittle and frozen as the ice outside. “I tried to keep my baby alive,” he said hoarsely. “But I failed.”

  He heard a gasp and then a sob. “I’m so sorry—”

  Merry’s soft apology was cut off by a crash.

  Trevor slammed on the breaks and swerved, but it was too late. A thick, frost-covered tree trunk fell with an ear-splitting crack, smashing the hood of the truck and shattering the windshield.

  It bounced, rocking the truck sideways.

  Merry screamed.

  Chapter Five

  Lawrence shouted a curse and knocked the fire screen aside with the butt of his SWD M11/9 machine pistol, then kicked savagely at the coals, scattering red and white sparks all over the room.

  “This damned place can burn down,” he shrieked. The only thing that kept him from spraying the living room walls of the safe house with bullets was the fear of leaving any sign of his presence behind.

  He’d known before he’d kicked in the door that they were gone. There was no vehicle parked outside. From the look of the newly banked fire, he’d just missed them.

  But why had they left? Merry had indicated that they’d be here all night.

  After a quick look around at the half-decorated tree and the wet towels in the bathroom, he reached the obvious conclusion. Merry must have gone into labor.

  He let loose a string of disgusting words as he checked his watch. He knew nothing about women or pregnancy, but if she’d felt the need to brave the worst ice storm Atlanta had seen in fifteen years, then Merry must be close to giving birth.

  Lawrence had no time. He tightened his grip on his automatic weapon and headed outside.

  The sleet was still falling and the trees were coated with a thickening sheen of ice. As he crunched across the yard to his Hummer, a branch cracked, its weight slowly swinging toward the ground.

  He looked at the dirty treadmarks that lead from the driveway. At least he’d caught one break. With his Hummer, he could follow Merry’s tracks wherever the detective took her. He couldn’t be more than a few minutes behind them.

  All he had to do was catch up with them before they reached the interstate.

  THE HEAVY BODY on top of her was suffocating her. In the midst of her pain, Merry tried to fight. She couldn’t let him kill her! She had to protect herself—protect her baby.

  She lashed out with her fists, screaming.

  “Merry. Merry!”

  The voice was desperate, strong, familiar. It brought her back from the brink of horror.

  It was Trevor.

  “Oh, Trevor. I was back there. I thought the Widow Maker was on top of me.” She gasped as another wringing contraction overtook her. Her body tried to curl in on itself and she felt the baby stretching restlessly, anxious to escape his ever-tightening prison.

  Trevor wrapped his arms around her, his body awkwardly splayed over hers, shielding her from harm. For a moment they lay there, molded together.

  The fallen limb creaked, rocking the truck slightly, and she felt Trevor tense. But finally the broken branch settled and everything was quiet again.

  Merry buried her face in his chest. Her arms were wrapped tightly around his neck. His hard, tense body felt like a bulwark between her and the world.

  Slowly, as the threat of danger passed, he relaxed. His breathing slowed and his heart rate steadied.

  He lifted his head and looked at her, and against the sensitized skin of her belly, she felt him harden.

  Her overwrought senses flared. A strange feeling took hold of her. Not desire. Her body was too concentrated on her baby and her pain for that. But she’d been through her pregnancy alone, and at times it had seemed as though the loneliness would tear her apart.

  But now, on this last night, this most important night, she had a champion. Reluctant, maybe, but worthy.

  She loved him for desiring her right now. His reaction made her feel cherished.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered, and tried to pull away, but she held on to him.

  He looked down at her, his eyes a kaleidoscope of emotion—fear, wonder, passion and even shame. “Merry, don’t,” he said hoarsely.

  She touched his cheek and kissed him gently. His lips trembled against hers, his breath hitched. Then for a few timeless seconds, their mouths clung together as the heat of his body enveloped her.

  He slid his mouth over her cheek and jaw, then buried his face in the hollow of her shoulder for an instant, his heartbeat rapid and steady against her breasts.

  She slid her fingers through his hair, down to the nape of his neck.

  He trembled and caught his breath, then he turned his head and kissed the curve of her throat.

  “You can feel the baby,” she whispered in his ear.

  He didn’t move and she was afraid he would pull away.

  Finally he lifted his head and stared deeply into her eyes, then looked down at her belly. He lifted his hand, his fingers spread.

  She pushe
d her coat aside, leaving just a single layer of red-and-green-plaid woven cotton between his hand and her skin. When he glanced up briefly, she saw a glitter of dampness in his eyes. Slowly, reverently, he placed his unsteady hand on her belly.