That got her attention. “Excuse me?” she squeaked.
“I was offering you a ride,” he explained, figuring he’d overstepped his bounds.
“To the Refugee Center,” she clarified.
“Of course.” Jesus, did she think he was picking her up? He wasn’t that hard up to be chasing a JAG’s wife, let alone one who dressed like a nun.
“No, thank you,” she murmured, with a pretty blush.
He watched her scratch a word onto the list that she was making. The longer he looked at her, the more tightly she gripped her pencil.
“Ma’am?” he said, startling her head up. “Could you do me a favor?” he asked. He couldn’t sit here any longer, feeling the tension in her. “Could you give this envelope to Commander Spenser when he comes out of the meeting?”
“Sure,” she said, managing a wobbly smile.
“Thanks. Tell him, he can mail the document back to the return address after he signs it.”
“Okay.”
Coming out of his chair to extend her the envelope, Chase felt like he was jumping into one of the green-gray pools at the base of a Malaysian waterfall. Her eyes were exquisite. “Take care,” he said, unsettled by their unexpected pull on him.
“You, too,” she said, radiant again.
He stalked toward the exit, trying to get his mind on all the things he had to do before taking leave. But as he paused by the security checkpoint to collect his SIG and cell phone, he asked Petty Officer Hewitt, “So what’s the deal with Captain Garret’s wife?”
“Miss Sara?” Hewitt countered with a pitying shake of his head. “She sits in there all day sometimes, waitin’ for him to leave work.”
“Why?” Chase asked.
Hewitt shrugged. “Captain Garret don’t let her out of his sight. Sweet lady, too. It’s a shame he treats her so bad.”
Chase turned away. He wished he hadn’t learned that. “See less of you later, Hewitt.”
“Not a chance, Chief.” Hewitt chuckled.
As he pushed out of the building into the balmy September afternoon, Chase felt for the woman trapped inside. She must long to be freed to the wild outdoors. He shook his head, picturing her husband, a man whose arrogant demeanor betrayed an overinflated ego.
Men who dominated women belonged to the same category as the terrorists that Chase annihilated. Too bad he’d never get orders to take that fucker out.
Twenty-four hours later, Chase filled his duffel bag with what he’d need for three weeks’ leave. He stood halfway between his dresser and his bed, emptying the drawers he’d just filled a few days ago.
Jesse, his black Labrador retriever, lay with his head on his paws, ears flattened, looking devastated.
Chase couldn’t take it anymore. “You want to come with me, boy?” he relented. For the last twelve months, the dog had stayed with a friend. It wasn’t fair to Jesse to leave him again.
Jesse’s head popped up.
“Want to go to Oklahoma? It’s a long drive.”
The dog’s mouth parted in what had to be a smile.
“Hell, you might like it so much you won’t want to come back,” Chase mused, picturing the woods and the stream where he grew up, paradise for a hunting dog. Jesse wagged his tail as if he could see the pictures in Chase’s head.
Pictures that went from good to bad in the blink of an eye. He envisioned his mother on the front porch holding the squalling baby. “Linc, stop it!”
Linc had Chase by the scruff of his shirt. Ignoring his wife’s pleading, he flung Chase as hard as he could into the door of the two-toned, 1976 Chevy Silverado. The impact was stunning. Chase felt the bone in his nose crack. Hot blood gushed out, running over his lips.
With a mutter of annoyance, he flicked the memory off. He couldn’t believe Ol’ Linc had gone and left him the ranch. It was probably mortgaged to the eaves, and this was his last bid, even from the grave, to torture his stepson.
If his real father hadn’t originally bought it, Chase would let a Realtor sell it. He couldn’t care less about the place.
But it was McCaffrey land, not Sawyer land. His daddy had bought it for his mama before he was born. “So, suck it up,” he muttered to himself.
He was stuffing his socks in the bag when his cell phone rang. “Yes, sir,” he said, having recognized the executive officer’s extension.
“I know you’re trying to leave, Chief, but did you ever get the lawyer to sign off on the paperwork for Dewey?” asked Lieutenant Renault, who was known to his friends as Jaguar.
He was referring to the document that Chase had left with Sara Garret. “It should be in the mail today or tomorrow, sir. I’ll double-check that.”
“Just give me a call back if there’s going to be a problem.”
“Roger, sir.”
“Listen, drive safely, and take your time. Vinny’s got your paperwork covered. Luther’s got the range. If you need more time, just let me know.”
“Will do. Thank you, sir.”
“No problem, Chief.”
Chase ended the call, then looked up a number in his dial-up menu. Commander Spenser’s phone bumped him over to voice mail. If he left a message on a Friday afternoon, the lawyer might never get around to calling him back.
With a long-suffering sigh, he descended the stairs to his kitchen, where he pawed through the phone book. Hopefully Sara Garret’s number was listed, and hopefully she’d be home to take his call.
Her name wasn’t listed, but her husband’s was, identifiable by his rank, Captain Garret. Chase dialed *67 to conceal his number from caller ID. As the phone rang, he pictured her exquisite eyes and his pulse quickened inexplicably.
The jangling of the telephone startled Sara from counting her money on the bathroom floor. Stuffing the bills back into the tampon box, she shoved it under the sink before hurrying to the adjoining bedroom to snatch the phone off the cherrywood secretary. “Hello?”
“Mrs. Garret?” asked a male voice. The familiar drawl made the air back up in her lungs.
“Yes.”
“This is Chief McCaffrey. I left an envelope with you yesterday at the Trial Services Building?”
“Yes,” she said, rendered almost mute by the fact that he was calling her. Her thoughts ran wildly before her.
Chief McCaffrey. Four years ago, he’d approached her stranded car in the parking lot, offering to help. He’d been so considerate, so competent, so handsome in a rough-and-ready way, that she’d been in a daze when they parted company. Garret had berated her for her tardiness the instant she arrived home.
Running into him again at the base commissary, here in Virginia Beach, had struck her as a marvelous coincidence. And he’d been just as cordial and considerate as the last time, even though she was fully to blame for toppling his soda cans. She’d left the store amazed that such a man existed, only to have Garret seize her checkbook because she’d splurged on strawberry shortcake.
Now Chase McCaffrey was on the phone, calling her!
“Sorry to bother you, ma’am, but I need to know if you were able to give Commander Spenser that envelope.”
“Oh, yes,” she said, disappointed that the call wasn’t personal, of course not. “I handed it to him right away, along with your message.”
“Thanks,” he said. “I’m headed to Oklahoma this afternoon. Just wanted to tie up all my loose ends.”
Oklahoma? Had he just said Oklahoma? The word jolted her like an electric shock. Sara sputtered, searching for an appropriate way of asking whether he could give her and Kendal a ride.
“Why . . . why are you going to Oklahoma?” she stammered, her head spinning so fast that she could hardly think.
“Family member died,” he said shortly. “Left me some land.”
Sara licked her dry lips, desperate to put her question to him. But within the confines of a casual phone call, it was inappropriate. Besides, she could hear Kendal’s bus coming up the road now, hydraulic brakes screeching as it slowed beside the bus stop. “Please, can
. . . can I see you before you go?” she added before she lost her courage. “There’s something that I have to ask you.”
He kept notably quiet, no doubt thinking she had lost her mind.
“There’s a park in my neighborhood,” she persisted, sacrificing her dignity for Kendal’s sake. “I’m taking my son there today at four. Could you meet me there?”
“Well, I’m pretty busy packin’ and all,” he answered, but he actually sounded like he was thinking about it.
“Just give me ten minutes.” She wanted to melt into the Berber carpet for being reduced to begging favors from a stranger, but the opportunity was too golden to pass up: a ride out West without having to use public transportation.
“The park on Sherwood Drive?” he asked her.
“Yes,” she confirmed, her hope flaring, “just past the pool.”
“See you there,” he said, ending the call.
Sara stared at the phone in her grip, dazed by the possibility that the miracle she’d been praying for had just dropped in her lap. Who better to help her and Kendal slip away than a Navy SEAL? He’d been so helpful in the past; surely he’d consider helping just one more time.
Her gaze shifted out the window to where ten-year-old Kendal was getting off the bus, his shoulders bowed beneath the weight of his backpack. He’d dressed all in black today, still mourning his rabbit.
His teacher had called yesterday evening, the day after Mr. Whiskers’s death, alarmed by the change in Kendal’s demeanor.
Sara was also alarmed. But she wasn’t going to waste time wondering where the downward spiral would end. She was taking every conceivable measure to get her and Kendal out of this nightmare before another incident took place.
Chapter Two
Chase nosed his older model sports car between a BMW sedan and a Range Rover. The park in Sara’s neighborhood looked like Disneyland, with an elaborate plastic playground, pool, and clubhouse, all surrounded by million- dollar mansions.
What the hell am I doing here? Chase wondered.
But there was Sara Garret, standing on the edge of the play area, with one hand fisted at her hip, the other raised to shield her eyes from the setting sun. And even with fifty yards between them, he could feel her pull on him, her silent cry for help. He had to know what she wanted from him.
The park was packed with privileged children and their white-collar, upwardly mobile parents enjoying the cooler weather on this second day of fall. It was a whole different cosmos from the world of conspiracy and terror that Chase lived in.
As well it should be, he figured.
The challenge would be not drawing notice to himself. Given the silver hoops in his ears, his goatee and ponytail, that wouldn’t be easy. He pulled the bill of his baseball cap down to shield his eyes and got out.
Sauntering toward a bench that was hidden in the shade, he sat down and waited for Sara to see him. He took brief inventory of the children scrambling over the equipment and tried to guess which boy was hers.
He could tell the exact moment that Sara spotted him. Like a jackrabbit spying a predator, she froze, eyes fixed, shoulders tensing. But unlike a rabbit, she didn’t dart away. She put one foot in front of the other until she was standing by his bench. Keeping her eyes forward she sat down stiffly.
Chase took wry note of her clothing. Today she wore a dark brown jumper over a white button-up blouse. Was it possible for any woman to have such poor fashion taste?
“Nice evenin’,” he noted, breaking the ice for her.
“Yes, it is,” she agreed, wetting her lips with a dart of her tongue.
“That your boy?” he asked, following her gaze to where a dark-haired boy, maybe ten years old, sat on a swing, scuffling his toes into the mulch.
Chase had seen the resemblance immediately in the downcast eyes and the curve of the boy’s chin. He hid his face behind the bangs growing over his eyes. “What’s his name?”
“Kendal. He’s the reason that I have to leave,” she added quietly.
Leave? Chase swung a startled glance at her, and their gazes collided. He experienced the same cinching sensation in his gut, the same compelling attraction. Her gray-green eyes were incredibly beautiful.
At the same time, the pallor in her face assured him that she was serious. So why was she telling him?
“We need a ride out West,” she added, urgently. “I have money. I can pay you if you like. Please . . . take us with you when you leave for Oklahoma.”
All he could do was look at her. “Mrs. Garret—” he began.
“Sara,” she corrected him, with a flash of those magnificent eyes.
Obviously, she couldn’t stand the sound of her husband’s last name. “Sara,” he began again, “I can’t help you with this.”
“I’ve thought it out,” she interrupted, reaching inside the voluminous pocket on the front of her jumper. “Kendal’s Boy Scout troop is hiking at Seashore State Park tomorrow.” She pulled out a folded flyer. “The place is completely remote. We could slip away from the rest of the Scouts and meet you in the overflow parking lot.” She thrust the flyer at him.
Chase unfolded it, took note of the pertinent information—place and time—and handed it back.
“I can’t help you,” he repeated.
He knew exactly when his message got through. She blinked and turned her face.
He felt like he’d slapped her. Jesus.
He glanced at her son, who’d buried his Converse tennis shoes completely under the mulch.
Shit. Why would she want to leave her privileged lifestyle unless Captain Garret abused both of them?
“There’s gotta be an advocacy group that can help you,” he insisted quietly. He willed himself to stand up and walk away.
She still wouldn’t look at him. Her face was a mask, with tear-bright eyes made of jade. She’d probably exhausted all her options. She didn’t strike him as the type to act impulsively, to solicit the help from a perfect stranger.
“Good luck,” he told her, not knowing what else to say. He put his hands on his knees and pushed to his feet.
He wished she’d look up at him or at least acknowledge his refusal, but she didn’t.
He felt subtly reprimanded, like he had no right to let her down.
With a scowl, he walked away, determined not to feel guilty. He got into his car and slammed the door shut. What the hell did she expect of him? It would ruin his career if he was caught stealing away a JAG officer’s wife and kid. His career was all he had.
Sorry, but he couldn’t do it, regardless of Sara’s strange pull on him. He’d never let a woman get under his skin before. He wasn’t about to start now.
Sara dragged her heels. Hiking along the edge of a marsh was pointless when Chief McCaffrey had made it clear he wasn’t going to be here. If it weren’t for Kendal, who’d loved nature since he was a baby, she would just as soon have stayed home. And unless Kendal managed to muster some enthusiasm himself, this tramp through the woods amounted to wasted time.
Three cars had been parked in the overflow parking lot, and none of them were Chase’s. She’d seen what he drove yesterday—an older blue sports car that was probably halfway to Oklahoma already.
She couldn’t blame him for not wanting to get involved. Who would, when Garret had made a reputation for securing some of the harshest sentences in naval history?
And yet . . . she’d expected better from Chase. After all, he’d taken care of her twice in the past, why not this time?
In a moment of foolish optimism, she’d even stuffed her backpack with everything they needed, just in case he did show up: toothbrushes saved from a dentist visit, eight hundred and three dollars, plus a change of clothing for both her and Kendal.
She regretted that impulse. What if Garret, ever suspicious, delved into the contents of her bag? He’d guess her intent to flee in an instant. He’d never let them out of his sight again.
She shivered, clinging to her secret, desperate to relieve the te
nsion building inside of her. She’d sworn to herself that she and Kendal would never suffer another one of Garret’s consequences. But unless she found a way to flee, and flee soon, it was inevitable.
Down a tree-shaded foot trail, she plodded. Wasn’t there any way to Texas that couldn’t be traced? Public transportation was not an option, not in this post-9/11 era, when even bus stations were equipped with video monitors.
If only Chief Chase McCaffrey could have plucked them from Garret’s world and taken them to another! It had seemed like providence that he’d blown into her life when she most needed him. Nothing so promising would ever come her way again.
With a blind eye for the flora and fauna Sara trailed seven boys and their Scout leader down a steep ravine. Up the other side they climbed, on steps created by underlying roots. At the crest of the hill, she and Kendal paused, while the others rushed pell-mell toward the swathe of marshland below, eager to spot wildlife but more likely to frighten it away.
The sulfuric tang of mudflats commingled with the fresh-scented breeze. Weighted with depression, they followed the others more sedately.
When they arrived at the bridge that spanned a snaking creek, the others were far ahead. In the quiet lull, Sara discerned the cry of an osprey and looked up.
What would she give to be free like that bird? Free of Garret’s unrelenting expectations.
But the sun beat down, and the backpack bit into her shoulders, reminding her that she was earthbound.
Kendal stopped in his tracks, and Sara stumbled into him. “Honey, what—”
“Look, Mom.”
His request had her peering down the glinting stream. To her astonishment, there was Chief McCaffrey paddling toward them in a camouflaged canoe.
“He was at the park last night,” Kendal said, proving he was more observant than he’d let on.
Chase’s hot blue gaze captured Sara’s startled one. He’d come after all. God in heaven, he’d actually come for them! Disbelief, relief, then urgency stormed her sensibilities.
“Mom, what’s going on?”
They were still alone on the bridge, the others far ahead. With a swish of his paddle, the SEAL maneuvered the canoe alongside them. “Jump in,” he said.
Time to Run Page 2
