Harlequin Intrigue April 2021--Box Set 2 of 2

by Carol Ericson

  Resting his head on hers for a second, Jax tried to take deep breaths. It hurt his chest a little, but he was pretty sure it was the way he was twisted, pain radiating from his shoulder.

  Then the hint of smoke hit him again and he spun forward, peering out the front. There was a lot of smoke coming out of his vehicle, but he didn’t see fire.

  The whole front of the vehicle was smashed in. Would it still drive?

  He turned the key, giving it a try even though it seemed pointless. It didn’t even make a noise.

  Swearing, he slid over to the passenger side and opened the door. He half fell, half climbed out of the SUV and then Patches was outside next to him, having leaped over the seats.

  How far had the bomber taken Keara? And where was his backup? Had they driven right past this trail, sticking to the road Jax had given Ben on the phone?

  Jax stuck his head back into the SUV, fumbling around for his phone, which had been in the center console. When he finally found it underneath the passenger seat, he discovered the screen was smashed. He tried turning it on anyway, but nothing happened.

  “Damn it!” Heaving out a sigh, Jax glanced back toward the road he’d followed the bomber down, the road that presumably his backup would be rushing to. Then he looked the other way, in the direction the bomber had probably taken off.

  How far had he gone? Jax could see another trail bisecting this one up ahead, but the trail he was on continued as far as he could see, too. The sun was very low in the sky now, casting pinks, oranges and yellows over the tops of the trees. He wasn’t sure where he was or where exactly this trail led. But it was going to be completely dark soon and one thing he did know: they were far from help.

  Woof! Patches ran down the trail slightly, then glanced back at him, barking again.

  “You want to find Keara?”

  Woof!

  Jax nodded. Hurrying to the back of his SUV, he grabbed the tire iron that had been useless the last time he’d pulled it out. But it was the closest thing he had to a weapon. Not much use against a gun, but better than nothing.

  Then he jogged after Patches, breathing through the pain that rattled in his head each time he put his foot down, and the sharp ache that kept searing through his left arm.

  She stayed ahead of him, glancing back periodically to make sure he was following. When she reached the connected trail, she turned onto it without hesitation.

  Jax followed, his heart thumping harder from adrenaline and pain, but also fear of what was up ahead. Was Keara here? Was he already too late to help her?

  He jogged forward a few more steps, caught up to where Patches had stopped to stare back at him. And then he saw it. A driveway with a dark blue truck in it. Behind that, a small wood cabin.

  Putting his finger to his lips, he knelt beside Patches and whispered, “Shhh.” He glanced at the drive again, searching for any sign of Keara or the bomber, but he didn’t see either one.

  Hugging his good arm around Patches, he kissed the top of her head, then stood. Angling his arm back the way they’d come, he told her, “Go back to the car, Patches. Wait there.”

  She glanced behind her, then stared up at him, confusion in her soft brown eyes.

  “I need you to go back to the car,” he repeated, knowing she understood the word. Eventually, Ben and Anderson would find his vehicle, even if they needed to contact the rental company and run a trace on it. If Jax was dead by then, he knew the agents would find Patches a good home.

  “I love you, Patches. You’re such a good girl,” he told her, trying not to let his voice crack.

  She sat down and he shook his head, angling his hand again.

  “Go, Patches,” he said, then turned away from her, creeping toward the cabin. He knew she didn’t want to do it, but she was a good girl. She’d go and at least she’d be safe.

  Taking deep breaths, Jax tried to block everything out: fear for Patches, fear for himself, fear for Keara. He tried to just focus on his surroundings as he crept up to the cabin.

  They were inside. They had to be.

  Praying that Keara was still alive, Jax slunk up to the edge of the cabin. The windows at the front were totally covered, so he slid along the side of the house, searching for a view inside, some idea of what he was getting himself into.

  Feeling hyperattuned to every sound, Jax cringed as dead leaves from last fall crunched lightly under his feet. The edges of fir trees brushed against him as he crept alongside the cabin. His adrenaline was pumping hard, but he felt focused. He gripped the wrench harder, hoping he’d be able to use it.

  Then he came up to another window, with a small space where the curtain hadn’t been fully shut. Inside the cabin the bomber was standing with his back partially to Jax, a gun held loosely at his side. Across from him, Keara was swaying on her feet, blood on her forehead and her uniform, a dark bruise across her cheek. But she was alive. And she looked fighting mad.

  Relief and fury mingled, and Jax picked up his pace, slipping around to the back of the house. There was a door here.

  Jax tested the handle and it turned under his hand. Heart pounding, he eased the door open and slid inside.

  The bomber didn’t turn. If Keara saw him, she gave no indication of it.

  Taking light, careful steps, Jax moved forward. His breath was shallow as he tried not to make a sound, as he lifted the wrench, got it in position to smash it down across the back of the bomber’s head.

  One more step...

  The bomber spun toward him, gun lifting fast, a smile rushing over his face. “Welcome to the party.”

  * * *

  JAX WAS HERE.

  Keara tried not to look past the bomber as he stared at her, snarling the way he’d been doing for the past few minutes. She’d thought he was going to shoot her on the driveway, but then a distant noise had made him frown and usher her inside.

  Since then he’d bragged about paying off the loner on top of the mountain, laughed at the police response to his Desparre bomb. He’d done it all with a slight smile hovering on the corner of his lips, like he was hoping she’d rush him. Hoping to infuriate her before he shot her.

  She’d gritted her teeth and stared back at him with as unaffected a look as she could manage. But she’d known he was just working himself up to something she couldn’t withstand. He was working himself up to Juan’s murder. Maybe to Jax’s, too, if he hadn’t made it out of that SUV.

  But now Jax was here. Alive and somehow in this cabin.

  Just as he raised a big metal wrench over his head and Keara thought it was all about to end, the bomber spun and told Jax, “Welcome to the party.”

  Keara wouldn’t have dared trying to rush the bomber when he was that close to Jax, the gun pointed. But he spun back to keep them both in his eye line quickly.

  The bomber shook his head, said to Jax in a mock-sad tone, “And here I let you live at the park.” But he couldn’t seem to stop a smile from breaking.

  Jax slowly lowered the wrench, dropped it to the floor with a clang that made Keara flinch.

  “If you killed me, then how would I be able to rue how much smarter you are than me?” Jax asked, his tone and expression even.

  The bomber’s eyes narrowed, like he wasn’t sure if Jax was mocking him. Then he shrugged and said, “Like I told Keara, you’ve given me some fun here. I like a challenge. But the heat is getting a little too close. It’s about time for me to move on. And I’m afraid you can’t come with me.”

  “Where to next, Todd?” Jax asked.

  Keara’s attention jolted from Jax to the bomber, who visibly jerked.

  Then he gave a forced smile. “You’re better than I thought you were. How’d you get my name?”

  “An old case,” Jax said and the bomber’s eyes narrowed as he shifted more to face Jax, his gun lowering slightly as he took his attention mostly off
Keara.

  Her breath stalled. She had no idea how Jax had come up with Todd’s name, with details of his past. But if Jax could keep Todd talking, keep his attention, maybe she could rush him. She wasn’t at full strength—not even close—but she had rage and desperation on her side. She would not watch another man she loved die.

  “How old?” Todd asked, his voice squeaking slightly.

  “Twenty-nine years old,” Jax replied evenly, his gaze never shifting to her. “Committed by your father.”

  Todd scoffed. “He was no father.”

  “Then why use his symbol?” Jax asked. “Why repurpose it as your own?”

  Todd grinned slowly, and the evil there made a shiver race over Keara’s skin.

  “That might have been his kill, but it’s always been my symbol.”

  “You smeared your mother’s blood on the wall?” Jax asked, surprise in his voice that told Keara he hadn’t found all of the answers. “Why?”

  Todd scowled, shook his head. Something in his expression told Keara even he wasn’t sure of the answer. “Does it matter? That’s my symbol.”

  “And what about the man who killed your mother? It didn’t bother you that people thought it was his symbol?” Jax asked.

  Keara slid forward, one tiny millimeter at a time, holding her breath, trying not to listen too closely to the horrible tale of Todd’s childhood. She needed to get close enough to launch herself at him and she needed him to be distracted enough that she’d land before he could lift his gun and fire. But she had to be completely focused.

  “I dealt with him. Right before I killed Celia Harris,” Todd said, his head tipping up, pride and hate in his words.

  Jax nodded slowly, not looking afraid. “It gave you the courage to try a riskier kill.”

  Todd scowled again. “I didn’t need courage, but yeah, I went for someone people would actually miss.” He shrugged, then gave a broad grin that told Keara she needed to move soon. “And then I discovered how much fun it was to fool the police.”

  He started to turn back toward her and she knew: this might be her only chance.

  But he was twisting too fast, his gun lifting again.

  She wouldn’t make it. But she had to try.

  Keara launched herself off the ground even as Jax’s “Keara, no!” rang out and Todd’s smile shifted into a sinister smirk.

  A familiar woof! woof! woof! came from behind Jax and a blur of brown and black fur raced through the doorway.

  Todd’s smirk slipped as he twisted back in the other direction.

  Then Keara landed hard, roping her arms around Todd, trapping him beneath her as they hit the ground. The force of it reverberated through her body as she focused on his gun hand. Ignoring the searing pain in her own hands, the slippery blood making it hard to hold on, she gripped his middle fingers and twisted them backward.

  He yelped and lost his grip on the gun.

  Keara shoved it away from him as she leveraged herself into a crouched position over him, yanking his arms up behind his back like she was going to cuff him.

  Before she could, he rolled, shoving her off him.

  Then he was pushing himself off the ground.

  “I wouldn’t do that,” Jax said, his voice low and deadly.

  Keara glanced up.

  Jax stood with his feet braced apart like he was on a firing range, the pistol in one hand as the other arm dangled strangely at his side. Patches stood beside him, her teeth bared in a way Keara had never seen.

  Todd lowered himself back down and then the room erupted in noise as the front door crashed inward and Ben and Anderson rushed inside.

  “You’re under arrest,” Ben yelled, weapon directed at Todd as Anderson yanked Todd’s hands up behind his back and cuffed him.

  Jax lowered the pistol he held and gave Keara a shaky smile.

  It was over.

  Epilogue

  A week later Keara stood in front of her officers in the Desparre Police Department, trying not to choke up. “It’s been an honor working with all of you for the past six years,” she told them.

  They stared back at her, giving each other uncertain looks, not having expected this speech on her first day back in the office.

  She’d spent the past week at home recuperating. Although the most concerning of her injuries had been the repeated hits she’d taken to her head, everything had looked normal on all the tests. It was the small puncture wounds across her arm from the nail board, her sliced-open hands from hanging on to the edge of the truck and the split on her forehead requiring stitches that had actually kept her away longest.

  “Desparre has truly become a home to me,” she continued, wanting to get it all out before she became overemotional. “It’s going to be hard to leave.”

  “You’re leaving?” Nate Dreymond asked, surprise and disappointment in his tone.

  He wasn’t officially back on duty yet and wouldn’t be for a few weeks, at least. But ever since he’d been released from the hospital, he’d come in each day to see his colleagues.

  Talise, too, had woken from her coma. She was still in the hospital, but doctors expected her to make a full recovery.

  The town was moving forward. With Todd Margrove behind bars and expected never to be free again, it was going to help everyone heal. Including her.

  “It’s time,” she told them, even though she’d never expected to be leaving the place that had given her so much after Juan died. It had given her a reason to live again, a purpose to help her move on. And it had led her to Jax.

  She glanced behind her, where Jax and Patches stood in the doorway. Patches was fidgeting, more full of puppy energy than Keara was used to, her tail thumping whenever Keara glanced her way. Jax was more subdued, his arm still in a sling, the sympathy in his gaze lending her strength.

  He knew this wasn’t easy for her. But she’d come back to Desparre someday, to see the people and the place that had changed her life.

  “Where are you going?” The way Tate’s gaze shifted briefly to Jax when he asked it, he probably already knew.

  “I’m moving to Anchorage. I’m going to be a detective again.”

  She’d officially had her interview over the phone two days ago, gotten the call that they wanted her yesterday. It probably hadn’t hurt that a longtime agent of the FBI had contacted them and said they’d be crazy not to hire her.

  The officers glanced at each other again, and she could feel the mix of emotions in the room: still some confusion and sadness, but they were happy for her, too.

  Technically, being a detective was a step down. And moving across the state, to a place where she barely knew anyone, was definitely a sacrifice.

  It was also fast. Fast enough that it scared her a little. If she was being honest with herself, it scared her a lot.

  She’d known Juan for more than a year before they started dating, had been with him for nearly three years before they got married. But she’d only spent a year as his wife before losing him.

  She didn’t want to waste any time with Jax, didn’t want to look back and have regrets. Not everyone got a second chance like this and she wasn’t going to let it go because she was afraid.

  She hadn’t wanted to fall for him. Hell, she hadn’t wanted to fall for anyone, especially not someone who was remotely in harm’s way. And despite Jax’s official title, he was too good at psychoanalysis to stay completely removed from the investigative side of things. He would never be one hundred percent safe.

  Then again, no one was.

  “Congratulations,” Charlie said, his voice booming over the silence that had fallen.

  Then all of her officers were chiming in, offering her congratulatory handshakes and hugs.

  Twenty minutes later she walked to the door, giving the room one last, long look. She wasn’t officially leaving for a fe
w weeks. She was going to help find her replacement, so she wouldn’t leave the town she loved in a lurch. But today felt like goodbye.

  As she reached him, Jax took her hand and she smiled at him. Today also felt like a new beginning.

  Woof! Patches said and Keara laughed, bending down to pet her. Then she stood and took Jax’s hand again.

  “Are you sure this is what you want?” Jax asked as they stepped outside into the brilliant sunshine. “You know I’m willing to do any amount of jumper flights. Patches and I can try to be here every weekend if you want to stay.”

  He gestured at the police station where she’d spent so many of her waking hours in the past six years. “I know these people have become like family to you.”

  Keara squeezed his hand tighter. “I’ve loved being a chief. And you’re right, I’m going to really miss everyone in Desparre. But being a detective is in my blood.”

  She let out a cleansing breath. “After Juan’s murder went cold, I didn’t want to do it anymore. Every part of being a detective was just a reminder that he didn’t have any justice. But I’m ready now.”

  She stared up at him, knowing he could probably read her nervousness in her smile. “I want to do it near you. If you don’t think it’s too soon.”

  “Too soon?” He laughed. “I was ready to profess my love a week ago.”

  She felt herself jerk slightly, at the surprise of his words, at the fear they evoked inside her. But she pushed the fear down. There were no guarantees in life, but Jax had faced down a murderer for her. They’d both come out of it alive. And for as long as they both had left, she wanted to be with him.

  A grin burst free, the fear suddenly overrun by an absolute certainty that she was doing the right thing. “I love you, too, Jax.”

  Woof!

  Keara laughed, the sound louder and more gleeful than expected, as she bent to scratch Patches’s ears. “I love you, too, Patches.”

  As she stood again, still holding tight to Jax’s hand, he tugged her toward the park. Work was already well underway to return it to its previous state.