by Anita Meyer
She veered left, straddling the centerline. The phantom car backed off momentarily, then pulled toward the center, directly behind her.
A hundred yards…fifty…thirty.
The car bore down once more. They were nearly past the exit. A scant second before impact, she whipped the wheel hard right. A spray of gravel shot across the highway as she fought to bring the heavy car back to the ramp. The small red car zigzagged wildly down the interstate, missing the exit altogether.
She ran the stop sign at the bottom of the ramp and turned in the direction of Ooltewah. Her hands shook and tears burned behind her eyes.
“Here’s the third and final clue,” Rockin’ Robbie said. “Put it together and figure it out.”
Another Neil Diamond song swirled into the night air-”Sweet Caroline.”
The words struck her with a force far stronger than colliding cars. “Sweet Caroline”—her name. “Brooklyn Roads”—the place she had come from and was returning to. Bright Eyes—Jeff’s own nickname for her.
This was crazy. It couldn’t be. Could it?
She listened intently as caller after caller offered their best guesses.
“I’m sorry, folks. No winner tonight, which is too bad because our prize, donated by a travel agency, was a doozy-a Caribbean vacation for two on enchanted St. Croix in the US. Virgin Islands.”
Oh, my God.
Jeff.
She abandoned the car in the first parking lot she came to, and ran down the street, looking for a pay phone. She found one at a gas station, a few blocks away. “Five-five-fiveWROC,” she repeated, pulling a coin from her pocket. Time expanded as she listened to the digital beeps and waited for the connection.
And then what? Tell Rockin’ Robbie that she was the answer to tonight’s song puzzle? If she was, then it could only be due to Jeff—and another of his almighty plans.
The phone rang once. Twice. She would bet her last nickel he was there. At the station. She was within the sound of his voice. But how? How had he known where to look? How had he found her?
The same way someone else had.
“WROC request line. This is Rockin’ Robbie.”
A lump swelled in her throat and she choked back the tears. She couldn’t talk to Jeff. Couldn’t let him know where she was.
“Hello? Hello?”
Caroline dropped the receiver, slumping against the booth. Tears ran down her cheeks. There was only one way to keep Jeff safe.
And that was for her to keep her distance.
* * *
Every time the phone rang, Jeff jumped. The song puzzle had been a stroke of genius, and Rockin’ Robbie had played it like a pro. But so far, it had turned up zilch. The phone jangled again and as Rockin’ Robbie lifted the receiver, Jeff scribbled down the number from the Caller ID. A man’s voice filled the sound booth and Jeff crossed off the number.
Someone offering an answer to the puzzle. Someone calling in a request. Everyone but the right one.
The wall clock read ten-fifteen. Jeff expelled a long breath. He would stay another fifteen minutes and then he would have to admit defeat.
The phone rang again.
“WROC request line. This is Rockin’ Robbie.”
Jeff jotted down the number and the two words after it-“Pay Phone.”
“Hello? Hello?”
The deejay looked at Jeff and shrugged. “Hung up,” he said. “Must have changed his mind.”
Her mind, Jeff silently corrected. He bolted into the next room. “It’s a pay phone,” he said, giving Mac the number. “Find out where.”
“A pay phone? Jeff, that’s a real long shot.”
Maybe. But right now, long shots were all he had. And slim was a far sight better than none.
Jeff pulled up next to the phone booth and Mac hopped out of the car, leaving the door open behind him. “This is it,” Mac said, comparing the number on the phone to the one on paper. “The call definitely came from here. And
look—” He pointed to the receiver dangling from its metal cord. “Phone’s off the hook.”
Mac dropped the receiver into the cradle. He walked back to the car and leaned inside, one arm resting on the roof, the other propped against the door. “If it was her, she has a twenty-five minute head start.”
Before Jeff could respond, the puppy jumped over the front seat and scooted between Mac’s legs. He sniffed at the sidewalk, squatted on a small patch of grass, and then sniffed some more. When he reached the phone booth, he began yapping.
“Hey,” Mac said. “Look at that.”
“Forget it, Mac. I know what you’re thinking and it won’t work.”
“Says who? I’ll bet you a month’s salary he smells Caroline. I told you he was a smart dog. He’ll lead us right to her.”
Jeff sighed. “He’s a puppy, Mac. And he’s not even a bloodhound. He doesn’t know the first thing about tracking and you don’t have a month’s salary to bet.”
Mac folded his arms across his chest. “Have you got a better idea?”
Touché. Reluctantly, Jeff reached into the back seat and snagged the leash. “Lead on, Macduff.”
Slipping into the shadows, Caroline surveyed the street. Quiet. Dark. No sign of a small red car. No sign of her assailant or anyone else wearing Patch’s unmistakable jacket.
But then, he’d probably taken it off.
She struggled to remember the man’s face, his hair, his coloring—anything that would distinguish him. But the attack had happened so fast, she never got more than a fleeting glance. Bottom line—if he ditched the car and the jacket, she wouldn’t recognize him.
She shivered. Tennessee in August was hot and muggy, even at this hour. It was an internal cold that chilled her. She zipped up her jacket.
Another car drove by slowly, and she pressed against a tree. How many times in the last twenty-four hours had she felt this fear? She couldn’t go on like this. She couldn’t keep hiding in the shadows, always looking over her shoulder, al ways sneaking around. She had to get out of here before the danger to her mind became more deadly than the danger to her body.
Once again, she began to run.
Jeff sat in the car and watched the puppy run in circles with Mac calling to him and encouraging him on. Impatience and fear gnawed at him. Caroline was out there somewhere—alone, in trouble, maybe hurt—while they were chasing their tails. Literally.
After a few minutes, the dog yapped and ran off down the sidewalk, with Mac in hot pursuit. Jeff put the car in gear and followed slowly. The puppy led them out of town, into the countryside. The houses were scattered, punctuated by large fields. All dark, tucked in, and quiet. No neon lights, no traffic lights, no streetlights, no light of any kind except the moon, and that had ducked behind a cloud.
He didn’t figure Caroline to be much of a country girl, but if she couldn’t hide in the noise and crowds of a big city, this would be a darn good second choice.
Jeff pulled the car up even with Mac and rolled down the window. “It’s a straight shot along this road,” Jeff said. “I’ll go on ahead. You stay with the dog.”
Too winded to speak, Mac simply nodded, and Jeff pulled away. They were closing in on her, he could feel it. Now it was only a matter of time.
Caroline cast a hurried glance over her shoulder. For as far as she could see along this country road, it was pitch-dark. She tried to relax, but the unease persisted. And she’d come far enough to know the importance of trusting her instincts. Quickly, she jumped the four feet into the ditch, her sneakers squishing in the mud. Up on the road there was no cover. At least down here she wouldn’t be easily spotted. She began moving again, her progress slowed by the high grass and uneven terrain. An eternity passed while she trudged and listened, hearing nothing more than crickets and the sound of her own breathing.
And then a dog barked. It was faint…far away…but unmistakable. And there was a sound like a motor. Caroline peeked out of the ditch and looked down the road. The soft purr of the motor g
rew louder, and out of the darkness came the shape of a car.
She crouched back down and held her breath. The vehicle was going very slowly. Without lights. It stopped. The motor switched off and she heard the click of a door opening. Heard footsteps on the gravel. Whoever it was, he was no more than a hundred feet away.
She held her breath until she thought her lungs would burst. Her leg cramped and she eased her foot back, snapping a twig. It echoed like a cannon, and an aeon passed before she felt sure she hadn’t given herself away.
Then she heard footsteps running on the road and the sound of heavy wheezing.
“Well?”
That single word said it all. Jeff. It was him. The sound of his voice squeezed her heart and Caroline pressed her hands to her mouth to keep from crying out. He was within hearing distance…seeing distance…touching distance.
Shooting distance. Anyone coming after her might hit Jeff or Mac instead.
The puppy yapped wildly and jumped into the ditch. Caroline could hear him struggling through the undergrowth.
No, she silently cried, pressing herself against the embankment. Please, go away.
But it wasn’t to be. Sniffing and panting, the puppy sought her out, then climbed into her lap and licked her face.
“Where did he go?” Mac asked.
“I don’t know,” Jeff answered. “It’s too dark to see anything.”
Caroline felt more than heard the thud as they jumped into the ditch, calling and whistling for the dog. She clamped a gentle hand over the puppy’s muzzle to keep him quiet.
“Maybe he found a rabbit,” Mac said.
The puppy squirmed in her arms, and reluctantly she released him and stood. “He didn’t find a rabbit,” she said. “He found me.”
Jeff didn’t know whether to hug her or slug her. So he did nothing. Just stood there and stared at her. She looked awful. Worn, tired, half-dead. The anger resurfaced—anger at her, anger at Davis, anger at himself.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he seethed.
“Hiding.” She brushed the dirt and grass from her clothes.
“From me?” His tone was incredulous.
“At the moment, yes.”
“For God’s sake, why?”
She looked at him for a long moment. “You wouldn’t understand,” she said tiredly.
“You got that right.” He grabbed her arm and spun her in the direction of the car. “What are you grinning at?” be snapped at Mac.
“My dog,” Mac said proudly. “He found her.”
Caroline stopped and turned to look at him. “Your dog? When did that happen?”
Mac shrugged. “He just kind of grew on me. You don’t mind, do you?”
“Of course not. I just wanted to find him a good home. If you want him, he’s yours.”
“Do you two mind?” Jeff interrupted. “I’d like to get out of here before someone finds us and blows us to kingdom come.”
Biting her tongue, Caroline climbed into the back seat and the puppy leaped in after her. What a difference a day makes, she thought ruefully, studying Jeff as he drove. This was not the man who had wined and dined her less than two days ago. This was not the man who had held her in his arms as they danced in the moonlight and made love to her with the sound of the ocean pounding on the shore.
This man was angry, explosively so. And yet, already she felt safe. Felt the tension and fear draining from her body.
But she couldn’t be that selfish, couldn’t put him in such danger. Somehow she would have to make him understand that she could survive on her own until the trial. Somehow she had to convince him to let her go it alone.
She looked at the stern face and rigid posture of the man driving the car. Jeff of Gibraltar. Convincing him of anything wasn’t going to be easy.
“Well, did you?”
“What?” Suddenly realizing he’d spoken to her, Caroline met Jeff’s gaze in the rearview mirror.
“I said, we heard on the radio that a woman matching your description had stolen a station wagon. Was it you?”
She looked away. “Yes.”
“In the middle of a truck stop? With half a dozen people watching?”
“More like two or three, but yes.”
“Mind telling us why?”
Caroline bit her lip. She didn’t want Jeff to know just how much trouble she’d been in, but not telling him endangered them further. She opted for telling the truth with as much levity as possible. “It seemed the fastest way to get away from the guy who was shooting at me.”
“Sheesh,” Mac said. “Did he follow you here?”
She nodded. “He was in a small red car with the passenger door caved in.”
Jeff had neared the northbound entrance to the interstate. At her words, he whipped the wheel and headed south instead.
“What are you doing?” Mac asked.
“We’re going back to Chattanooga.”
Caroline jumped up and leaned over the front seat. “Are you crazy? I just spent the last two hours trying to get out of there. That’s where I ran into Davis’s man.”
Jeff smiled. The first smile she’d seen on him tonight. Lord, she loved that smile.
“Exactly,” he said. “That’s the last place they’d look for you. Now, get down and stay down.”
“Wait a minute, Jeff—”
“I mean it, Caroline. Down!”
The dog obediently dropped to the seat. Reluctantly, she followed suit. There were a few problems with that caveman mentality. But now was not the best time to point them out.
Within the hour they were back in Chattanooga. The rental car was too easy to trace, so Jeff turned it in, while Mac bought an old heap from a guy in a bar. And the whole time, Jeff didn’t let Caroline out of his sight.
At two in the morning they stopped for gas on the northwest side of Knoxville.
“Where are you going?” Jeff asked, as she climbed out of the car.
She pointed in the direction of the gas station. “Little girls’ room. Unless that’s a problem.”
“Not at all.” He turned the pump over to Mac and trailed behind her as she got the key from the night clerk, then followed her around to the side of the small building.
“You know,” Caroline said, “I’ve been doing this on my own since I was four. I think I can manage.”
Jeff folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against the concrete, as stiff and unyielding as a cigar-store Indian. “I’ll wait.”
She shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
He was still standing there when she came out moments later.
Caroline passed a weary hand across her eyes. “We need to talk, Jeff.”
“You got that right. But not here and not now.” He took the key from her hand, then cupped her elbow. “Get back in the car.”
Her jaw clenched and she tried to pry his fingers from her arm. “This macho routine is getting real old.”
“Think so?” His grip tightened. “Well, get used to it.”
She stopped struggling. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I can’t trust you to stay with me. You’ll take off again the first chance you get. So, you don’t get any more chances.”
“I won’t let you treat me like a crimi—”
“Been there, done that,” Mac said, coming up on the argument. “You guys swing like a pendulum—animosity, passion, passion, animosity. Make up your minds.”
Jeff scowled and Mac held up his hands.
“Look,” Mac said. “I doubt any of us has had more than a few minutes’ sleep in the last twenty-four hours. So before you light into me, I say we find a place to crash and pick this up in the morning. I saw a place a few miles back.”
After a moment, Jeff nodded.
When they reached the motel, Caroline and Jeff went in first to get a room. Mac offered to wait a while and watch for a tail before getting a room of his own.
The gloves came off as soon as the door closed. �
��All right,” Caroline said, “let’s get this over with.”
Jeff nodded and dropped into a chair. “Ladies first.”
Caroline sat down on the edge of the bed facing him. She took a deep breath. “I appreciate your dedication. I really do. And I respect the fact that you are a man of your word. But I have proved time and time again that I can take care of myself.” Jeff started to say something, but she held up her hand. “Please, let me finish. I got off the island, by myself. I got to the States, by myself. I went from Atlanta to Chattanooga, by myself. And I outwitted, outran, and outmaneuvered a paid assassin, by myself. What will it take to convince you I can go it alone?”
Jeff shook his head. “What will it take for you to realize you don’t have to go it alone? I don’t want you to be alone. What is wrong with accepting my help?”
It could get you killed.
Her voice dropped to barely a whisper. “Do you have any idea what I was thinking when that sniper started shooting and the Jeep blew up?”
Jeff shook his head.
“I was thinking about my brothers.”
He reached for her, would have touched her, but she pulled back. She didn’t want comfort. She wanted him to understand.
“And then I saw two other brothers—you and Mac—and I decided I would never let that happen again. I won’t let Augie Davis destroy your family—the way he destroyed mine.”
“That’s not going to happen—”
“You want to put that in writing?”
Regret clouded his face.
“I didn’t think so,” Caroline said. “There are no guarantees, and we both know it. That’s why I have to do this alone. That way, only one person can get hurt.” She unzipped the backpack he had tossed on the bed and fished out a hairbrush. With an energy she didn’t feel, she brushed the tangled strands. “I’m wiped out. I admit it. And I’m ready to sleep here for the next twenty-four hours if need be. But after that, I want to leave. By myself.”
Jeff came nearer. He put out his hand, and for a moment she thought he was going to touch her—she would have let him—but he didn’t. His hand dropped to his side. “I can’t do that, Caroline.”
