Harlequin Intrigue April 2021--Box Set 2 of 2

by Carol Ericson

  As she heard him move away from her, she took deep breaths to reduce her panic, then slammed against the metal lid, trying to open it. The lid buckled slightly, but held. Then the truck started to move, taking her away with Juan’s killer.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  “Have you heard from Keara?” Jax asked Ben over the phone, trying not to give in to worry. He’d called the agent after Keara hadn’t picked up, and told him the same news he’d given Keara’s voice mail.

  “No. She’s on her way back from talking to someone up the mountain. She got a weird vibe from it, though. Said she’d stay in touch on her way down.” There was a pause and Jax imagined Ben frowning at his watch. “If I don’t hear from her in the next ten minutes, I’ll give her a call.”

  Could she have followed a trail right to the bomber’s home? Or maybe he’d followed her up there, ambushed her on her way back?

  Jax only halfway paid attention as Ben went on about what a great find Jax had made and said he’d start running the name Todd Margrove immediately. Then he asked if Jax thought it was Rodney’s elusive roommate from back in Texas. From the way he asked, Jax had a feeling he’d repeated the question a few times.

  “Yeah, maybe. Look, let me call you back, okay?” He hung up without waiting for an answer, dread forming in his gut.

  Maybe he was overreacting because he’d been shot at that morning, but he suddenly couldn’t stop picturing Keara in trouble. “Come on, Patches. Let’s go for a drive.”

  Woof! She leaped to her feet, danced around him even as she didn’t get the usual laugh out of him.

  He moved faster the closer he got to his SUV, scanning the semidarkened parking lot. He opened the back door and Patches jumped in, then Jax got behind the wheel.

  “Hold on, Patches,” he told her, driving faster than was legal as he whipped out of the parking lot and headed for the mountain. It was closer from here than the police station and he couldn’t wait the ten minutes for Ben to follow up with Keara, then call back and tell Jax he was overreacting.

  He could hear Patches sliding around a bit in the backseat as he rushed toward the base of the mountain, where the main road led up to the best place in Desparre to hide out. But were there other roads off it? He had no idea.

  “Sorry, Patches,” he told her, wondering if he should have left her in the hotel room. But most likely he was overreacting. And if he caught up to Keara coming down the mountain, maybe she’d be more open to talking with an adorable dog begging for her attention, too.

  “Almost there,” he muttered a few minutes later as the road that led off the mountain came into sight.

  Before he reached it, a dark blue truck sped away, making a turn in the opposite direction Jax was coming from.

  It was the truck.

  Jax’s pulse picked up as he instinctively punched down harder on the gas. Had Keara run into the bomber on the mountain? Had he hurt her? Was she still up there?

  Yanking his phone out of his pocket, he told it, “Call Ben Nez!”

  As he reached the base of the mountain, Jax’s gaze pivoted from the road that went up the mountain to the street heading out of Desparre that the blue truck had taken. Should he go search for Keara up the mountain? Or follow the bomber?

  He clenched his teeth, panicked at the thought of making the wrong choice. Go after the bomber. It was Keara’s voice in his head. He could imagine her insisting she could take care of herself, to keep the bomber in sight and get the police and FBI on him now.

  “Ben here. What is it, Jax?”

  The way Ben said his name, the stress in his voice, told Jax he’d repeated himself again.

  “I found the bomber. Coming down off the mountain in that same truck. He’s heading out of town. I’m following him.” Jax’s voice sped up as he made his decision. He passed the road up the mountain, hoping he’d made the right choice.

  “What? Jax, where are you exactly?” Ben asked.

  Jax gave him the road, then demanded, “Did you hear back from Keara?”

  There was a pause that made dread drop to Jax’s stomach, then Ben admitted, “She’s not answering her phone. Anderson and I were just about to head up the mountain.”

  “Should I turn around?” Jax demanded, trying not to panic. Maybe Keara couldn’t answer because the roads were dark. He’d heard agents the other day complaining about how narrow they were, how the sudden drop-offs alongside the road in places were startling. Maybe she didn’t want to dig her phone out of her pocket and be distracted from driving.

  “No,” Ben insisted. “Stay on the bomber. Just make sure you stay at a distance. You don’t want this guy spotting you, okay? Just stick behind him and keep giving us updates. We’re on our way.”

  “No,” Jax insisted. “Send someone else. You need to go find Keara.”

  “Jax, if Keara’s in trouble, it’s probably connected to that truck,” Ben said, his tone darkly serious, noises in the background suggesting he was already heading for his vehicle. “But we’ll send officers up the mountain just in case. We’re coming to you. Just be safe. The road you’re on leads out of Desparre. It eventually goes into a neighboring town so small they don’t even have their own police department. What they do have is a lot of secluded, wooded areas where a bomber might hide. One of Keara’s officers was just talking about it earlier today as a place where the bomber could be if he wasn’t in Desparre or Luna.”

  “Okay,” Jax agreed, only half listening as he focused on the road ahead. It was empty except for him and the blue truck. He didn’t want to get too close and tip the bomber off that he was being followed. He also didn’t want to lag too far behind, have the guy take a sudden turn and disappear before Jax could catch up.

  “This guy is a killer, Jax,” Ben stressed, as if Jax needed the reminder.

  He knew all too well what the bomber had done to Keara’s husband, what he’d done to Keara’s life.

  “If you think he’s spotted you, turn around. Give us his last coordinates and we’ll be right behind him,” Ben insisted. “Don’t risk your life. You’re not an agent. You’re not trained for this. Do you hear me? You do not want to end up alone with this guy.”

  “Okay,” Jax agreed, not sure if he meant it. Where was Keara? Why hadn’t she called him back? Why hadn’t she answered Ben’s calls?

  “Shit,” he swore as the truck suddenly sped up, whipping off the road and onto a bisecting trail into the woods.

  Jax hit the gas, and as he headed farther away from town, Ben’s voice came through a burst of static. “Jax! Did you hear me? Don’t engage!”

  From the backseat, Patches yelped as she slid across the seat.

  “Hang on, Patches,” he said, slowing as he reached the turn the blue truck had taken. He eased off the gas entirely, until his SUV was just creeping forward, until he could crane his head and stare down the road.

  Boom!

  Jax punched the gas again as the gunshot blasted, and his SUV raced forward. Hopefully, they’d pass the road before the bomber could hit them. Hopefully, the bomber wouldn’t follow, but would use that opportunity to keep going.

  Patches yelped again as Jax gripped the wheel hard, ducking his head low, hoping neither of them would be a visible target.

  But as they passed the trail, the truck was still stopped, the brake lights lit up. A hand disappeared back inside the driver’s side window, and the truck started up again as if the driver was going to take this chance to get away.

  He had a brief instant of relief. Then the gun box in the back of the truck popped open and Keara partially emerged from it.

  * * *

  KEARA GASPED IN the cool night air as she finally got the lid free. She pushed herself upward, desperate to get out of the box that had felt like a too-small coffin.

  Ironically, it had been the truck slamming to a stop after taking that nausea-inducing turn
that had given her the right angle, just enough leverage, to shove open the box. Now she ducked low again as the unmistakable sound of a bullet pierced the air.

  Was he shooting at her?

  As quickly as the thought entered her head, she realized it was wrong. The bomber was shooting at Jax, who was amazingly behind them. His SUV had been racing past the trail where they were stopped, but then his eyes widened in the window, his expression caught in the glow from the bomber’s brake lights.

  Jamming the box lid fully upward, Keara pushed unsteadily to her feet, ready to leap out and race for Jax’s SUV.

  Then the bomber hit the gas.

  Her upper body went flying forward, wrenching her mostly out of the box and into the truck bed. The metal lid of the box slammed against her calves, but she barely felt the pain over the jolt to the rest of her body as she landed hard, then slid toward the edge where the back of the truck bed had popped open.

  Catching herself before she slid right out, Keara grabbed the edge, holding on. Her fingers sliced open on the metal as she held on hard, as she tried to angle her legs to brace herself against the side. She eyed the ground below, moving rapidly enough to intensify her dizziness. They were going too fast. She’d missed her chance to jump.

  Then Jax’s SUV backed up and spun wildly onto the road, chasing them.

  The truck jerked to the side and Keara lost her grip on the edge as she flew sideways across the truck bed. She slammed into the side of it, grabbing the edge there as her body spun and her legs dangled off the vehicle, hanging in midair. Head pounding, she scrambled to get fully back on the truck as it swerved again and the boom of a bullet fired.

  Maneuvering onto her knees, she peered into the front of the truck, where the bomber leaned out the window, slowing slightly as he fired backward at Jax.

  Gritting her teeth, Keara pulled herself slowly, painfully, up the truck bed, smearing blood in her wake. Could she get to the left side, near the front of the truck bed? Could she reach the bomber’s hand, yank the gun free? Shooting him while she was in the bed of his moving truck wasn’t her best plan, but it didn’t seem like her worst option, either.

  The truck sped up again and Keara’s knees slid out from underneath her. She swore as she slammed against the truck bed again, and her arms were yanked hard as she kept her grip on the side. Ignoring the sharp ache in her arms and shoulders, Keara kept dragging herself forward.

  She glanced back and saw Jax gaining. She wanted to tell him to get off this trail, get himself out of danger, but she was also grateful for the backup, grateful that she wasn’t completely alone with a practiced killer.

  Taking deep breaths to try to ease the pounding in her head and the throbbing across her entire body, Keara grabbed the front of the gun box. Painfully, far slower than she would have liked, she moved on her knees across the front of the truck bed, pulling herself with her bloodied hands.

  When she was halfway there, the bomber twisted to look at her. His eyes inches from hers through the glass startled her, almost made her lose her grip.

  There was a darkness in his gaze Keara had never seen before in over a decade of policing, a fury to his scowl that said he was going to make her pay for daring to go up against him.

  Keara glared right back, refusing to show him any fear. Today this ended. And it wouldn’t be with her painful death. It would be with his arrest.

  Lurching sideways, Keara made it to the left side of the truck. Adrenaline or determination was helping her vision even out, pushing the pounding in her head to the background. Now that he knew she’d gotten free of the gun box, would he hold his pistol out the window again? Would he be expecting her to make a grab for it and not take the risk? Or would he focus it on her?

  Glancing behind her, she saw Jax. He was gaining on them, close enough now that she could make out the grim determination on his face.

  Then the bomber hit the gas again, hard.

  Keara swore as her knees came out from under her once more and she banged into the edge of the gun box headfirst, slicing a cut across her forehead. Holding on tighter to the side, she scrambled, trying to wedge her legs against the front and side of the truck. No way could she let go at such a high speed, with the way he kept wrenching the wheel back and forth slightly. No way could she make a grab for his gun if he tried to fire at Jax again.

  But from the corner of her eye, she saw Jax getting closer. He was almost on top of them now, gesturing for her to do...what? Try to jump onto the front of his SUV? She shook her head at him, knowing that was a move made for movies, and would probably be deadly at this speed.

  Then the bomber slammed on the brakes and Keara’s grip came loose from the truck edge. She was thrown against the front of the truck and the gun box, but barely felt the pain as she twisted toward Jax, and the SUV still racing for her.

  He was going to hit the truck. At that speed, with that much force, it would probably kill her.

  She took a deep breath and tried not to show any fear as she stared back at the man she’d somehow fallen for in such a short time.

  It felt like everything was moving in slow motion as his eyes went huge, then his jaw clamped down.

  The SUV wrenched sideways as Jax must have yanked the wheel hard. The right wheels came off the ground and for a terrifying moment, she thought he was going to flip it. Then the SUV came back down again and he must have hit the brakes. But not hard enough, because the front of the SUV slammed into one of the trees lining the trail and the whole front of the vehicle crumpled inward.

  “No!” Keara screamed as the bomber hit the gas again, and she went flying to the back of the truck.

  She grabbed hold before she was tossed over the edge, her hands shaking with the desire to let go, let momentum carry her. But if the fall didn’t kill her, the bomber would surely get out and finish the job while she was incapacitated or out cold.

  Praying that Jax had survived the crash, Keara stared at the SUV, hoping to see him climb out. But all she could see was smoke billowing from the front of the vehicle, and then too soon, the bomber turned off onto another trail.

  Trying to push Jax to the back of her mind, Keara scanned the truck bed, searching for something she could use as a weapon. But there was nothing here. The gun box had been empty, too. But it was old, dented from her twisting inside it and slamming her boots into the lid. Could she rip it off? It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing.

  Before she could even start to pull herself back to the front of the truck, the bomber slowed and then came to a stop.

  Shoving herself to her feet, Keara glanced over the top of the truck at a tiny cabin, tucked deep into the woods. Swearing, she leaped off the truck, ready to make a run for it.

  Too fast, she heard the truck door open behind her and the bomber snapped, “Do it and I shoot you in the back.”

  A small part of her, knowing it was probably the least painful way to go, wanted to do it anyway. But that wasn’t her. She was a fighter, right to the end.

  Gritting her teeth, she turned toward him.

  He laughed, surprise evident in the sound. “That was a rougher ride than I thought, wasn’t it?”

  Ignoring the jibe, she tried to throw him off guard, give him a reason to think she was still a worthy opponent, not worth killing yet. “So where’s Rodney Brown? Is this all your doing or are you two working together?”

  He let out another sound, somewhere between a laugh and a grunt, and his gun lowered to his side. “Rodney has been dead for seven years.”

  Surprise jolted through her as he continued, “I borrowed his car when I killed Celia Harris. You know I did that, right?” He nodded, a slight smile forming. “I didn’t expect anyone to come looking for the car. Rodney was belligerent with the cop, of course, and I couldn’t take any chances.”

  Pain and anger filled her, overriding her physical pain as he spoke of h
er husband.

  His smile grew, as if he could see it. “Rodney has been dead since the day that cop—your husband, right?—came to the house. I dumped his body in the ocean. Then I tracked down the cop and slit his throat.”

  Keara felt herself sway at the words, felt a familiar, incapacitating grief rip through her as the bomber shrugged and added, “And then I moved on.”

  He lifted his gun again as she tried to breathe through the pain. “And I’ll tell you, you’ve been a lot of fun, but it’s getting a bit dicey for me here. I think it’s time for me to move on again.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Something was burning.

  Jax groaned and lifted his head off the steering wheel, not sure if he’d blacked out or if he’d just hit his head when he’d slammed his SUV into the tree, trying to avoid smashing into Keara.

  Keara!

  Opening his eyes, he saw nothing but white. The airbag had deployed. He groaned again as he twisted his head, peering around it out the side window. The truck was gone.

  Woof!

  Jax whipped around in his seat, and his chest and shoulder screamed in protest. “Patches! Are you okay?”

  She whimpered and he cursed himself for having brought her along.

  “I’m sorry, Patches. I’m coming.” He tried to smash the airbag out of his way and the movement sent a tearing pain through his left arm. Cursing, he unhooked his belt and twisted, ignoring the way his shoulder screamed as he slid out from behind the airbag.

  Peering into the backseat, he saw his dog on the floor. She stood when he met her gaze, her tail wagging slowly, pointing downward.

  “Are you okay, Patches?” He reached back with his right hand, letting his left arm hang limply. Had it been wrenched out of the socket in the crash? He wasn’t sure.

  When he pet Patches, she leaned closer, stretching her head between the seats and licking his face.

  His gaze ran over her, searching for injuries, but she looked okay. Then she leaped up, putting her front paws between the seats, and relief filled him. If she could move like that, she probably hadn’t broken anything.