WHERE TIGERS PROWL

by Karin Story

"What is it?" he whispered, wondering if she might be having second thoughts about Sarah.

  "Nothing. I'll just stay here with you. Keep you company until you're ready to shower or sleep or whatever you want to do."

  He studied the shadow of hesitation on her face, the way she was about to fall over from exhaustion, yet she fought to hold her body upright anyway. She didn't seem to be concerned about Sarah, so what was it?

  Then the truth hit him.

  He'd told her last night before they'd made love that he was leaving. And now, she was afraid if she went to bed, he would leave without her. Damn, why hadn't he noticed until just now that she'd displayed this uneasiness all day? She had no way of knowing that he wasn't about to leave her alone, unprotected, until he found a safe place for her stay.

  He wrapped his hand firmly around hers and tried hard to ignore the welling of emotion, and the twinge of something more physical, as he touched her. "Mare, I'm not going anywhere."

  The cautious look in her eyes didn't pass.

  "Remember last night when you said you trusted me?"

  She swallowed hard, then nodded.

  Yeah, she might remember, but in spite of her "big girl" speech last night, it had all happened as he'd feared. Their lovemaking had tapped into emotional territory he never should have allowed. Then to have the existence of a wife follow on the heels of that… Damn. He'd been struggling all day to lock up the overwhelming guilt he felt at the situation, and he could only imagine that for Maris, who wore her heart on her sleeve, this whole thing had ripped her in two.

  "Okay, then trust me on this," he said softly. "I swear to you, I will not leave here without you. Now go take a shower and relax for a while. Do you want me to get you some things out of the Range Rover?"

  She breathed a deep sigh. "No, that's okay. I'm too tired right now to care."

  He watched her leave the room and he hurt all over from the sad, resigned set to her shoulders.

  "You're in love with her." It was Sarah's low, clear voice.

  He turned toward her, and felt a large knot twist in his stomach.

  She watched him steadily.

  "I haven't even known her very long, just a few days. And I have a wife."

  "I didn't ask how long you've known her. And your marital status is yet to be determined. You're in love with Maris."

  "I—"

  "Maris saved my life, and I owe her for everything that I have right now." Sarah paused, regarding him, but before he could say anything, she continued. "I like you, Tom, or Trent, or whatever your name might turn out to be. But if I ever find out you're using her, or that you've hurt her in any way, I'll make sure you go down." She nodded toward her computer. "I have the ability to make your life hell."

  Her dark eyes seared into him, and Tom forced himself to draw in one slow, deep breath after another. Calm. He wasn't about to let some little hard-eyed pixie back him into a corner.

  He met her gaze without flinching. "I'll protect Maris with my life."

  And he would, by God. She was the type to always insist she didn't need protection. But there was something about Maris that demanded loyalty. He'd seen it in Jerry Spengler's expression, and now in Sarah's. And he, too, felt the pull.

  Sarah studied him a moment longer, then her gaze softened. He knew that in that brief moment they'd come to an unspoken conclusion about each other. He could trust her to help him find his past. In return, she trusted him to bring Maris through this ordeal unscathed.

  The weight of responsibility for Maris that already rested on his shoulders settled even more heavily.

  "I'm going to get back to work. Why don't you pull your vehicle into the garage. There's an extra space, and it will keep it out of sight of any prying eyes." Sarah turned back to the desk. "The garage door opener's to the left of the door. Make yourself at home."

  She bent over her keyboard, and this time, Tom knew he really had been dismissed.

  * * *

  Maris came awake with a start when Tom shook her. She rolled over and looked up at him. The room was dark, but there was enough moonlight shining through the slatted blinds that she could see he was fully dressed. Had he ever come to bed?

  "Sarah said to come into the den. She's got some information, but she wanted us both to hear it."

  She rubbed her eyes and tried to purge the fog in her brain.

  "Come on. She's waiting." He held out his hand to her.

  She grabbed it and let him pull her off the bed. He thrust jeans and a sweatshirt at her. Jeez, he'd been out to the Range Rover to get clean clothes for her. He was wearing a different shirt of Jerry's, too, this one a forest green flannel. He had on a white T-shirt under it. And he'd showered. His hair was still slightly damp.

  She slipped into her jeans, yawning as she buttoned them. "What godawful time is it now?" she whispered.

  "It's ten at night."

  No wonder she felt like death. She'd only slept a couple of hours. She dragged on her sweatshirt, then wobbled unsteadily as Tom handed her hiking boots to her. "Hang in there, baby, we'll get you some caffeine. Let's go."

  He grabbed her under her elbow and pulled her to a standing position, then led her down the hall to Sarah's den.

  Sarah didn't appear to have left the room the whole time Maris had been asleep. She had stacks of paper next to her on the desk, and at the moment her nose was glued to her computer screen. Her fingers flew on the keyboard, but she paused long enough to wave a hand in their direction, indicating that she'd heard them come in. Obviously, she was in the middle of something and would get to them when she could.

  Tom planted Maris on the loveseat they'd occupied earlier and disappeared into the hall again. When he returned a minute later, he had two black coffee mugs balanced in his left hand. He held one out to her and she wrinkled her nose at the strong smell wafting toward her.

  "I know it's not your favorite, but coffee packs a bigger punch than your Diet Cokes do. Humor me."

  The look on his face was so tender and sincere, something she hadn't seen much of all afternoon and evening, that she couldn't refuse. She blew at the dark stuff, then gingerly took a sip. Hot, but not too hot. She took another, larger swallow, and felt it burn a path down her insides, waking her up in a not particularly pleasant fashion.

  "There," Sarah declared. With a flourish, she turned her chair around and studied the two of them. "I have some interesting news and some not particularly helpful news. What do you want first."

  They both stared at her.

  "Okay, I'll give you the not particularly helpful news first," Sarah answered her own question. She pressed a lever on the arm of her chair and moved closer to them.

  Gazing directly at Tom, she said, "As far as I can tell, there is no Elise Montgomery."

  Maris felt a silent cheer of relief well up inside her and a tiny part of the ache in her heart diminished.

  But Tom didn't react in kind. He set down his mug on the glass-topped end table next to the sofa and stared at Sarah with hard eyes. "I need specifics. What do you mean there's no Elise Montgomery?"

  "Well, let me rephrase that," Sarah corrected. "There are a few Elise Montgomerys in the world, but I can't see in any way, shape, or form how any of them is the woman you're looking for." She reached over to the desk and grabbed a stack of papers that had been set aside from the others.

  "I have an eighty-year-old in Santa Clara, California. A fourteen-year-old in Texas, a fifty-eight-year-old in Tuscaloosa, a two-year-old in Paducah…" she shuffled through the stack of papers. "And so on and so forth. But no Elise Montgomery anywhere near New York, New Jersey, Connecticut, or the northeastern U.S. in general. And basically, no one in the age range one would expect for our woman. I also find no marriage record for a Trent Montgomery and Elise.

  "So what does that mean?" Maris asked cautiously, eyeing Tom out of the corner of her eye.

  "It could mean lots of things. Perhaps she and Trent were married outside the U.S., so there's no record of it. Per
haps she kept her maiden name. Perhaps she's lying. No way to know for sure. But as soon as I saw there wasn't going to be a clear-cut answer in that direction, I started the search for Trent Montgomery. That's where the interesting news comes in."

  "Let's hear it." Tom's voice was cool. Almost detached.

  Sarah's pixie face took on a decidedly perplexed expression that made Maris sit up straighter on the couch. "Well, there is definitely a Trent Montgomery who fits the general picture. The problem is, I can't get anything more than just generic information on him."

  "What?" Maris and Tom asked at the same time.

  Sarah shrugged. "Every direction I turn, I run into a wall."

  Maris caught Tom's gaze. He blinked as if acknowledging that she'd said the same thing earlier.

  "So, what does that mean?" Tom asked slowly.

  "In my opinion? Trent Montgomery's out there all right. But someone has worked very hard to make him invisible."

  The color drained out of Tom's face and his nostrils flared slightly as if he were suddenly having trouble breathing. Quickly, Maris grabbed his hand and squeezed it, trying to pump some life back into him. He didn't respond at all, didn't seem to notice she was touching him.

  "So does that mean we're at a standstill?" she asked.

  Sarah tapped her forefinger against her lips and studied the bookshelf behind them. "No, not a complete standstill," she answered finally. "I still have a few tricks up my sleeve."

  Then she turned her gaze to Tom, who was still quiet. Too quiet. "I have a recommendation for you."

  He raised an eyebrow. "What's that?"

  "Someone has worked very hard to obscure information about Trent Montgomery, and that doesn't bode well for you, whether you're actually Trent or not. It takes some pretty big fire power to delete the existence of a person. Either that or a very clever hacker." She quirked a smile at that. "In either case, you need to make sure you stay one step ahead of the game until you have more information. I strongly suggest you go somewhere far away, someplace where you won't be easily tracked. And I suggest you do it soon."

  "I won't run and hide," he growled. "I'm being set up. That guard at the morgue knew who I was. I need answers."

  "I know," Sarah said in a calm voice. "And that's what I'm trying to get for you. I told you, I haven't exhausted all my resources yet by any means. But you have to keep in mind that whoever is after you, tracked you down at the morgue. They're going to be watching for you to appear at all the obvious places. They're going to be expecting you to try to find Elise Montgomery. There's also a manhunt going on for you and Maris. If you go out visibly searching for information anywhere in this part of the country, they're going to snag you."

  Tom rubbed his face in the palm of his hand. His shoulders and back radiated stiff anger.

  "What about the dead guy at the morgue?" Maris asked, trying to think quickly and find a compromise. "Not the security guard, the other one. The first one. Have they identified him yet? Maybe there's something there that can clear us."

  "Best I can tell, no ID on the John Doe yet," Sarah said. "But again, someone's trying to do a blackout on everything that has to do with Trent Montgomery. I need more time." She put a hand on Tom's knee. "Look, I understand your frustration. I really do. But right now you need more facts. I'm happy to keep turning up stones to find them for you, but while I'm working on it, there are people out there looking for you. Neither of us can afford for them to find you here. I need to be free to do my job. And you need to go some place safe."

  Tom rose to his feet and stalked over to the darkened window.

  Maris followed him with her gaze, wishing she could comfort him. But everything about him clearly said "hands off." He'd been like this most of the day, ever since he woke up at May's. Occasionally he'd lapsed into gentleness, but for the most part, he'd indicated by his actions that he wasn't going to acknowledge what had passed between them last night. She had a strong suspicion that the only reason he was still with her right now was because he felt duty-bound by her.

  The relentless ache in her soul that had plagued her since she'd seen her picture on TV this morning, built in intensity until her stomach churned. And the sight of Tom's unyielding back only made the pain more raw.

  She was wanted for murder.

  God. She squeezed her eyes closed and fought off a wave of nausea. She was wanted for murder and it had happened because she'd found an injured man in her back yard and had dared to do the kind, humane thing and help him. Then, like a kick to her gut, not only had her kindness backfired, but now she was a police statistic. And if that wasn't bad enough, she'd managed to commit the ultimate act of stupidity. She'd fallen in love with a complete stranger. A dangerous stranger.

  Oh, yeah, she knew it was true. Last night as she'd floated in her little passion-sated fog, she'd realized the enormity of her feelings, and had almost embarrassed herself by telling him.

  Crud.

  She'd known the rules when she dared to play with fire last night. Had known them and agreed to them. Tom had made no promises, and she'd told him she didn't want any.

  Too bad she was such a pathetic liar.

  Tom turned and glanced briefly at Sarah, then settled his gaze on her.

  The nausea hit her again. His eyes were foreign to her. They were truly the tiger eyes she'd compared them to before. Chilly, predatory.

  His gaze swept over her from head to toe, then, as if he'd dismissed her, he turned away and spoke to Sarah. "Go somewhere safe?"

  "Yes," Sarah answered quickly. "The farther the better at this point. Some place that will really throw them off track. And in the meantime, I'll continue the search for Trent Montgomery."

  "How will we get in touch with you?" Maris asked, trying to play it cool and not give away the wretched mess that seethed inside her.

  "Don't tell me where you're going. It's better that I don't know, because what I don't know, I can't tell." Tom started to interrupt her, but Sarah scowled at him and effectively shut him up. "Give me twenty-four hours or so, then call me. Call from a pay phone. I'll be waiting and I'll have the information ready for you, whatever I find."

  "You're putting yourself at risk, Sarah," Tom said.

  "We have a deal, you and I. I'll hold up my end of it. You just hold up yours."

  "What deal?" Maris asked, looking from one of them to the other.

  Tom stepped toward Sarah and took her small hand in his. "You have my word." His deep voice rippled through the room.

  "And you have mine," Sarah declared.

  Maris stared at them. Both had suddenly shut her out and become strangers to her. A deep down wave of anger rolled through her. What the hell was going on?

  Sarah backed up her chair. "Now go. Give me twenty-four hours, then call me. And please, be patient. Don't compromise yourself. Lay low until we know more of what's going on."

  "I already agreed to that," Tom said sharply. "We'll be in touch. Thank you for everything."

  "Yeah, thank you," Maris mumbled. She stood, and took a deep breath, letting her anger and hurt ground her. "And we absolutely will lay low." She gave Tom a pointed gaze. "I have no desire to end up behind bars."

  He strode purposefully across the room as if he hadn't heard her, but when he got to the door, he turned toward her. A flicker of irritation crossed his face, but he quickly hid it. He held out his hand and beckoned to her.

  She'd seen the irritation, though. Irritation that she wasn't right there following at his heels like a good girl?

  Shooting a cold glare at him, she strode toward him and tried to ignore the feeling that she was being pulled by that damned invisible rope again.

  He looked like the same man she'd spent the past three days with, felt the same when he closed his long fingers around hers, even smelled the same, she thought, as a whiff of his clean scent swept through her senses.

  But he was different. This man standing next to her now seemed older, more experienced, more focused…and more dangerous.<
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  And that scared the hell out of her. What if the tender man she'd fallen for had never existed and it was all part of her over-active imagination?

  Jerry's words of warning and Grandma Sophie's stern lectures rang in her ears as she followed this fierce stranger out into the night.

  Chapter 13

  * * *

  Maris sucked the last swallow out of the big plastic cup, running her straw around the bottom to make sure she had it all. Damn, this must be her third thirty-two ounce Diet Coke in as many hours. She held her hand out in front of her and was pleased to see it wasn't shaking.

  Okay, that was a good sign—enough caffeine to keep her going without giving her the jitters. The caffeine jitters that was.

  Inside, she was a wreck waiting for Tom. He'd gone inside the convenience store across the street a long time ago to make the call to Sarah, and he wasn't back yet.

  She glanced at the clock on the dashboard. 10:45 P.M. Mountain Standard Time, which would be 12:45 on the east coast. Twenty-six hours since they'd left Sarah's house.

  She breathed a sigh. Okay, so Tom had only been gone two minutes. It felt like a lot longer than that.

  They were in Idaho Springs, Colorado, and light snow fell from the bitter, black sky. White swirls formed on the windshield, not enough to cover it, but enough to obscure her view. She switched on the windshield wipers, letting them make a couple of passes over the glass.

  Another peek at the clock showed the number just changing to 10:46.

  In spite of the tension and heartache rolling through her, that had been rolling through her for the past, miserable twenty-six hours, she felt a tingle of life inside her.

  God it was good to be here. She'd lived all over the world. Had spent a few summers of her growing-up time at the old house in Connecticut with her grandparents. But the bottom line was, Colorado was where she'd spent the happiest years of her life.

  She peered through the window up the dark street. That pizza place up there had the greatest pizza crust. How many times had she eaten there with her friends on the way back to Boulder from skiing trips? Too many to count. The snow, the mountains, the atmosphere, even the very air she breathed was friendly and familiar to her.