Crack. The sound ripped through her. She dropped down, palms flat on the frigid earth.
“Hello Emily.”
The voice was rugged, and yet, melodic, as if the lake itself exhaled her name.
Emily held her tongue and craned for a better view. The night came quickly in this forest, and it would prove her ally. This was her domain. She had sprinted from tree to tree since childhood, the victor in every hide-and- go-seek match. For having such a bright mind, her brother could not exceed her in these woods.
The cold was more pronounced and now her knees began to quake.
Crack.
Emily’s breath halted. She crouched even further and peered beneath the underbrush at the boot only ten feet away. It was not Colin’s.
“Emily.” It repeated with certainty. “Come out.”
Something in the intonation haunted her, but it was hard to tell over the pulse barreling in her eardrums. Emily risked a glimpse behind her in search of an escape route, but the shore of the lake loomed. One wrong step on the icy surface and she would not only reveal herself, she could slip down the embankment and into the frigid abyss.
“I’ve been looking for you.” The voice beckoned softly.
Recognition sapped all strength from her body. Emily gasped and the boot shifted in her direction.
A last wayward stroke of dusk penetrated this shelter as she looked up at the highlighted face.
Brian Morrison.
Her initial reaction was relief. She thought the authorities had finally reached her, but no, it was just the man who had looked into her soul as if she was his salvation. As she stood erect, the shock of this reunion set in. Relief had been such a wonderful shower, but now suspicion left her bone-dry.
With nowhere to go, she stepped from the brush. In the hospital, effects of the accident seemed to encumber Brian Morrison. She knew he was tall, and sensed he was strong with such power in the chest that had been exposed in that hospital bed. But now, without a sling, without a crutch, and sporting only the sallow bruise of the head laceration, he seemed larger than life.
“How?” Her throat was so dry. “Wh-what are you doing here?”
“I never got to say goodbye.” Brian’s tone was stark.
“D-did you follow me?” She was confused, but sensed that there would be no good answer to that question.
Brian’s eyes were impassive. Nothing was left on his stern features to remind her of the compassionate man she had shared two days with.
“Again.”
“Again?”
“I followed you again.”
Alarmed, she stepped backwards and then cried in frustration as her boot sank into melting ice.
“No Angel, you’re not going to get away this time.”
It was almost completely dark out now, and he was a menacing shift of night against dusk. Anxiety chilled Emily’s blood.
“You were chasing me that night.” Resignation deflated her.
“I’ll admit you’re good at evasive maneuvering.”
“I didn’t even see you—not until the accident. And I didn’t think—” How stupid. How could she have not figured it out that night? She had been lulled into false security when after an hour on the highway there seemed to be no visible tail.
“But not good enough.” Her voice was as cool as her skin.
Whoever Brian Morrison was, it was obvious that he was an enemy, and she was not about to go easily.
Colin.
Maybe Brian didn’t even know Colin was here. If she surrendered, Colin had the pen drive—he could escape. The need to protect him overruled all her senses.
“Well, you caught me.” Her head came up, challenging as she tramped out of the pine shrubbery.
“So it seems.” The voice was startlingly close now. She hadn’t even seen him move.
Braving the unknown, Emily stepped forward and felt the vise of his hand clamp on her wrist.
“Who are you?” She whispered.
Brian felt a jolt when he touched her. After all, it was less than twenty-four hours ago that he thought this woman was the most beautiful, benevolent creature he had ever encountered. Hah, how could someone like him ever fall for that? He had been bred to be mistrustful. He had been taught to find the deceit in everyone. How had he succumbed and been infatuated with this woman?
Simple. Painkillers.
He forced aside the disturbing recollection, but nonetheless gentled his grip. Emily wasn’t going anywhere that he couldn’t catch her. He used his touch to prompt her through the woods, impressed with her agility on such a gnarled and slippery trail.
A light above the porch of the cabin acted as a homing beacon. When they emerged into the clearing, Emily tugged against his touch and stopped to stare at him. She looked wary. Ready to take flight. He could tell that she was trembling, but under the glow of the overhead bulb he detected aggression in eyes that looked like midnight and still tempted him.
“I’m with NMD.”
“Of course you are.” Scorn tinged her reply.
“Why did you do it?”
“None of your damn business.”
“Yes,” he smirked, “actually it is. Do you want to turn it over now?”
“You think I kept it? I got rid of it. It’s safe, but I don’t have it anymore.”
Brian’s glance sliced towards the cabin, its innards glowing from a stoked fireplace. “In there maybe?”
“No.”
The response was quick enough to make his lips thin. “It’s cold out here. I’ve been traveling for hours and I’ve got one hell of a headache—why don’t you invite me in at least, and we can talk about it.”
“Look, if you’re going to arrest me, just go ahead and get it over with.” She went so far as to offer up her wrists for him to shackle.
Brian snorted. “We’re going inside, and we’re going to discuss your options.”
“Options? You’re giving me options? How damn noble of you.”
Brian pressed his fingers against the pulsing pain above his eyebrow. His patience was being whisked away by the increasing wind.
“You’re right. They’re narrowing by the second. Now just get inside.” His grip was more emphatic than he would have liked, but Emily Brennan was getting under his skin. The fact that she dug in and resisted only aggravated him more.
“If you want to do it the hard way, I’ll pick you up.”
She snorted. “Big talk for a guy who has a couple broken ribs.”
“Which you gave me. I think anger breeds inhuman strength, don’t they say?”
Uttered with a hint of menace, that quiet threat had Emily reassessing Brian Morrison. Under the stark outdoor light, half of his face was cloaked in shadow. The portion that was illuminated revealed the stern slash of a jaw, a narrowed brow, and an eye as dark as pine. With broad shoulders under a black pullover sweater, he loomed above her like a shadow that swelled as it drew closer.
“I’m telling you, they’re not in there.” She tried again.
“And I’m telling you, that at this moment I don’t give a damn.”
“Okay.” Emily yanked her arm from his grasp, relieved that he offered her this one morsel of dignity.
At the base of the steps she paused to grip the handrail. Kicking the heel of her boot against the wood, she shifted and executed the same task with the other. “I don’t want to track snow in.” She announced loudly.
Her steps as she ascended the back porch were heavy in tread. At the sliding glass door she reached for the handle and declared, “You might want to take your boots off if you’re not going to make an effort to clean them.”
“And risk surprising whoever it is you’re trying to alert in there?”
Damn him.
She could only hope that Colin had heard the exchange and escaped out the front door. If she bolted right now, could she get past Brian? How far could she make it? Would it be far enough to afford her brother the time he needed?
“Emily,” Bri
an warned softly. “Don’t try it.”
Her shoulders sagged. For a moment she closed her eyes and listened to the fir limbs rustle in the breeze and thought of them as nature’s wind chimes. Other than that, the hush of night befell the lake. Only Brian’s tread crushing the snow on the bottom step broke her from her reverie. Whether it was a mental shake, or a shiver of cold, Emily ignored her sense of futility and stole herself for the imminent task.
She slid the glass panel open and was immediately swathed in the heat from the fireplace. The shock of the warmth hitting her skin caused an uncontrollable bout of trembling. Only the kitchen light was on so the vaulted ceiling glowed naturally from the source of the stone hearth. The soft pop of a splitting log jolted her as she watched the starburst of flames surge and then wane.
“Have a seat.” Emily’s head pitched towards the L-shaped couch before the fireside.
She watched Brian, rooted just inside the doorway, measuring the cabin and taking in the sunken living room with its charred stone fireplace. His eyes alighted on a fresh stack of lumber by its side and she thought he was probably trying to calculate whether she had chopped them herself.
“Okay, do you want to tell me about it?”
Emily’s chin inclined, but her cheeks felt flushed. “Why, you’ve already convicted me?”
“I’m not here to judge you. I’m here to bring you back.” He took a step. “The curiosity is personal.”
She retreated till her calves drew up against the oak coffee table.
“In the hospital—” Her voice dropped low. “You didn’t know who I was?”
“I told you I couldn’t remember anything leading up to the accident.”
“You thought you were running from something.” She recalled.
“Yes.”
“I was running.”
“I know that now.”
“Brian, I—” It happened so fast. Emily screamed in shock and launched forward.
CHAPTER IV
Brian felt the shift in air just in time to deflect the descending blow. He dipped and veered around, his arm extended as rigid as a baseball bat as it impacted against a chest, the momentum shoving the figure back. He felt pain shoot up into his shoulder, but ignored it in favor of the sound of whoosh as the shadow dropped into an armchair. Long legs sprawled out as big hands grappled for stability.
“Don’t move.” Brian’s command was glacial.
“No!” Emily cried when she saw him draw the gun.
Her shriek stopped Brian. It was a primal cry of fear, and there were still a few lingering memories of his angel in that hospital to enable that tortured sound to make him waver.
Emily lunged past him, her hands splayed out in the open air, her stance forming a protective barrier before the armchair. Across her shoulders, her blue eyes issued a silent challenge.
What a tableau he thought. And he was none too pleased with the senseless pang of envy that stabbed him when he watched her defense of the somewhat attractive male.
“The guy attacked me from behind.” He tried to sound casual. “What did you expect?”
“I didn’t expect you to come charging in here with artillery.”
She was insane. That was it. Emily Brennan had to be insane. “First, I didn’t come charging in here—you invited me.” He ignored her smothered denial. “Second, you forget you’re the criminal. You are the person I was sent to track down and return at all costs—using whatever method I have to. Third, I’m betting that the guy cowering behind you is the illustrious engineer I’m supposed to bring back.”
Lowering the 9MM, but not pocketing it, Brian added, “And last, I’m tired. I’m sore. I don’t have time for this bullshit, so you both better cooperate pretty damn fast or I will bring in the artillery.”
“I didn’t invite you.” She eyed the object warily.
Brian was distracted by the hand winding up Emily’s hip in an effort to push her aside. The man succeeded and Brian watched the climb of the thin young man that glared at him with icy eyes. It was the unblinking gaze of a Coyote that wanted to circle and wait for an opportunity to attack.
“I am not cowering.” It was a low oath.
For a moment the two men gauged each other, a silent standoff in which the wind’s mournful whistle licked at the front door. Brian’s fingers clenched around the trigger, but he kept the weapon down, resting against his thigh.
Years in Naval Intelligence had taught him nearly a hundred ways to incapacitate this young man in seconds without the need of a weapon, but the unwavering stare of this adversary immobilized Brian. It was like looking into a fortuneteller’s crystal ball, where first you saw a mystical swirl of smoke, and then finally the clarifying images of fate.
“Enough.” Emily snapped the spell by hoisting in front of him. “Look, we don’t have what you want.”
You have plenty of what I want, Angel. Brian glared at the mutinous thought, but Emily backed down from that burning glance.
“Maybe that’s the truth. But you had it.” He repositioned the handgun back under his shirt, and crossed his arms. “You’re on film, Ms. Brennan. We know you had the backup drive, so if it isn’t in your possession right now, you certainly know where it is.” His gaze shifted. “Or the designer himself knows it’s location. By the way, are you going to introduce me?”
Emily seemed surprised. “You don’t know who this is?”
No. And it was pissing him off. He had known that night before he took off after Emily, but now there was no name. All he had was a breach of knowledge, one that was filled by Phil’s recital of details, but he had only referred to the offender as “The Engineer.”
Brian caught Emily studying him and he swore he detected concern in her gaze.
“I’m fine.” He answered her unvoiced question, knowing that she could no longer be worried about him, but was probably sizing up a potential avenue of escape.
She continued to look at him, her eyes dipping to all the spots on his body that had sustained injury. With a flinch she snapped out of her stupor.
“Brian Morrison,” She stepped back and swept her arm in the young man’s direction. “Meet Colin Brennan.”
Brennan. My God, her husband. The persistent stab of jealousy was back with a vengeance, and it made Brian’s temperament even fouler. What the hell did he care? The woman he had been attracted to—rather, infatuated with, did not exist. She truly was an angel, and literally slipped up to the heavens the moment she left that hospital. Here before him stood a married criminal.
“Mr. Brennan.” He tipped his head in acknowledgment.
Colin reached for his shirt pocket and Brian’s gun was drawn immediately. Colin raised his palms and he held up an index finger. Slowly, he reached into his pocket again and extracted a red stick of licorice, all the while, never blinking.
Brian slid a quizzical glance at Emily.
“He doesn’t like you.” She observed drolly.
Brian let loose a scornful laugh. “Well if that isn’t just a pisser. I can’t imagine why not.”
She glared in response and then started at the sound of Colin’s voice.
“You two act like you know each other.” Colin used the licorice as a wand and waved it back and forth between them.
Disturbed, Emily avoided both men. She glared at the couch where Benjamin Franklin was supposedly sitting and jerked her eyes to avoid him as well. Her glance finally landed on the end table where her Father’s polished cigar box sat with a layer of dust matting it. Her Mother insisted he smoke the “cursed” things out on the deck, although at Christmas there would always be a box of Cohibasunder the tree from her.
“Do you?” Colin prompted.
“Do I what?” She shuddered.
“Know him?”
Emily followed Colin’s stare and landed on Brian. She knew him. Had it been another time or place she would have stayed at his side in that hospital and watched him mend. She would have wanted to get to know him.
How co
uld she have been so stupid as to not realize he was tailing her? She had been lulled into a false sense of security when for over an hour the rearview mirror was blank.
Brian’s eyes met hers and she saw the reflection of the fire in them as it crackled and burned. Drawn from that source of heat, her glance dropped to his hand curved around the handle of a gun.
“This is the second time Mr. Morrison has caught me.” Emily announced softly.
Nothing of Brian’s grim expression revealed his thoughts.
“The second time?” Colin paced, his hand ruffling the side of his head like a dog scratching behind his ear. “So there was something you left out, wasn’t there Emmy?”
“The accident. When I called you from the hospital.” She turned towards her brother, feeling small and pitiable rather than the guardian she was supposed to be. “I didn’t know he was with NMD, Colin! I’m not used to looking over my shoulder all the time—this is all so new for me.”
He jabbed the air with the drooping licorice stick. “If they had been after you like they were after me—you would have learned real fast.”
“I am not inherently paranoid, Colin.” Seeing her brother flinch, Emily immediately felt contrite. “Look,” She turned towards Brian, who watched her broodingly. “It was Colin’s design. How is that stealing?”
The look Brian gave her said, you know better than to ask that. Which was true, she did. But she had her back to the proverbial wall, and was ready to do battle.
“Colin Brennan is employed by NMD.” Brian said, “Everything he designs within that facility is the property of NMD.”
“Ah hah! You’re right.” Colin jabbed his red vine.
“Thanks.” Brian replied quizzically.
“No, not you.” Frustration had Colin rubbing his hair again. He looked past Brian towards the plum throw pillow toppled over on the couch. “Him.”
“Him?” Brian whirled, instinctively lifting his gun.
The room was empty.
Borrowed Time Page 4
