“Mr. Blackwell, what’s going on?” Donna Delaney’s smoke-roughened voice rang out behind him.
He motioned for her to come inside with him and kept moving, charging for the source of the scream, for the crowd surrounding a woman kneeling on the floor, clutching an orange backpack to her chest.
“Lauren.” He tapped a store security guard on the shoulder. “She’s with me. What happened?”
“Not sure. I heard her scream, but by the time I got here, she was like this.”
“Lauren?” Chris crouched in front of her. “What happened?”
“Have to have attention, just like your mother.” Donna towered over Lauren.
The accusation galvanized Lauren more than Chris’s gentle question. Her head shot up. She stared wide-eyed at the crowd around her as though she hadn’t realized anyone was there, then tried to stand.
“Let me help.” Chris offered his hand.
“I can hold your bag for you, miss.” The security guard reached for the backpack.
Lauren clutched it more tightly. “It’s mine.” She grasped Chris’s hand and he drew her to her feet. “Thanks.”
He kept hold of her fingers. “You’re shaking.”
“What happened, miss?” the security guard asked.
“I’m not sure.” Lauren met Chris’s gaze with a question or a plea.
He guessed a plea. She didn’t want to tell the security guard something. She didn’t want to talk about it with a stranger because it had something to do with the pursuit, with them as the quarry.
“She probably slipped on the floor,” Donna said.
“It’s not wet.” The security guard rubbed his own foot across the concrete.
“It’s all right. Please forgive me.” Lauren gave the guard such a warm smile the tips of his ears reddened.
“If you’re sure, miss. I can fill out an incident report.”
“We don’t have time for incident reports.” Donna grasped Lauren’s arm. “We need to go.”
Chris wasn’t sure whether Donna acted impatient to help or because she truly thought they should be on their way. A jumping muscle beneath her eye suggested she wanted to be away.
Frowning and glancing about as though afraid someone would swoop in and tell him he was making the wrong move, the security guard took a step back. “All right, then. Be careful.”
“I intend to be,” Lauren murmured. “Where are we going? Donna’s car?”
“I’d rather not. If that truck belonged to the men after us, they followed Mrs. Delaney here.” Chris glanced at his phone for messages. “Someone is supposed to deliver a vehicle for us.”
“So, how do we get my dog back?” Donna demanded. “I don’t know anything about a USB drive. I don’t even know what a USB drive is.”
“This.” Lauren drew one from the plastic bag hanging from her wrist.
Donna shrugged. “Never used one.”
“But Ryan left one in your house this morning.”
“He couldn’t have. He wasn’t in my house this morning.”
“He took his skates,” Chris pointed out.
“He wasn’t there,” Donna insisted. “I was home all morning and I didn’t see him.”
“Then how did he take the skates so fast?” Chris asked.
“I don’t know.” Donna met his gaze so directly he thought she just might be telling the truth. “Why would he cut across the lake in the first place?”
“Harder to catch than if he kept to the road,” Chris said. “And doesn’t he have a key?”
“Of course, but—” Donna’s shoulders slumped. “I guess he sneaked in while I was at the back door putting Saber out. My own son acting like a thief.” She blinked hard. “Can we get out of here?”
“We should move along before that guard comes back to ask what we’re doing loitering.” Chris scanned the store.
The least likely place for anyone to be on Christmas Eve was...? Where? Hardware? Automotive?
“Let’s go.” He gestured for the ladies to precede him.
They traversed several aisles until they reached the back wall. A line of tools hung on the wall, large gaps showing where the supply had been diminished for Christmas gifts. For a flash, Chris yearned for his father’s presence. Tools had always made him happy as gifts. The man loved to build things, from bird feeders to bookshelves.
He shoved the sadness and memories aside in an instant. This was not the time to be sentimental or personal.
“What happened, Lauren?” He posed the question a little more abruptly than he intended, but he needed to focus his mind on something besides those empty tool shelves.
“Someone grabbed my backpack.” Lauren slipped her arms through the straps, then hugged her middle as though cradling those straps against her. “They yanked me backward when they did it, so I threw my head back and bashed either their nose or chin and screamed. He shoved me to the floor and took off.”
“He?” Chris asked. “Did you see him?”
“Just his feet and legs.”
“He could have been a common thief,” Chris mused aloud. “With a hard yank, you can pull a backpack off someone.”
“I knotted the straps so that’s not as easy.” Lauren moved her arms and he saw the ends of the straps were looped so they couldn’t slide through the buckles.
“So you got attacked by some thief, while some hoodlums took my dog over a piece of plastic.”
“I think they were after more than a piece of plastic.” Chris studied Lauren’s face, wondering how much more she could bear. “I think that truck was a distraction so you could be attacked, maybe even forced to go with one of them.”
“Then why just grab my backpack?” Lauren asked.
“I don’t know.” Chris shoved his fingers into his hair, wincing at how the tape from the bandage pulled. “But I can tell you I don’t think we should get separated like that again.” He glanced at Donna. “That includes you until we get your dog back.”
And Ryan captured. If this ended with Ryan captured.
The idea that Ryan’s capture might not end this nightmare left Chris feeling sucker punched.
“So how do we get my dog back?” Donna asked a second time.
“We have a plan. I’d rather not say what it is here. Once someone brings me a vehicle—”
On cue, the text alert sounded from his phone. He glanced at the screen. His replacement vehicle was in the parking lot. On the far side from the crime scene. A picture accompanied the text. It showed a battered Jeep. No remote starter for something that old. They would be blessed if the heater still worked. Another text told him where to find the key with the admonition, Don’t lose it. There isn’t another one.
So he wouldn’t meet whoever had dropped it off. No one would see one man get out of the vehicle and a man and two women get in. By the time Chris and his party reached the SUV, the marshal who had dropped it off would be somewhere guarding it from out of sight and the constant flow of shoppers would have changed. General enough precautions, but they didn’t account for the possibility—the likelihood—that he and the ladies were being watched, that someone might follow them the instant they left the store.
“Let’s look for an exit that isn’t the loading dock or the front door.” He started to pace the perimeter.
“What’s wrong with the front door?” Donna’s boot heels clicked on the polished surface of the floor.
Chris glanced down. She wore boots better suited to a party than walking through snow and ice. No doubt she had dressed up to deliver cookies to neighbors.
His mother would be doing the same thing. His mother and sister would be alone for the holiday.
This wasn’t the first time he left them on their own because of work. It wasn’t the only holiday they had celebrated without him: Thanksgivings, Independence Days...
He glanced at her. She trudged beside him, her head bent so her hair covered her face.
“What good will another exit serve?” Donna asked again from behind them.
“They can’t cover all of them at once, I don’t think. There will be at least one more exit, maybe two.” Chris thought for a moment. “The least likely to be guarded is one that is for fire exit only.”
“That’ll set off an alarm,” Lauren said.
“Probably, but we’ll be behind cars in the lot before anyone gets there to investigate.” Chris stopped to let a gaggle of teen girls, laughing and teasing one another, scoot past with their arms full of Christmas ornaments. “Haven’t you ever noticed how long those alarms usually ring before anyone shuts them off?”
The ladies didn’t respond as they passed bedding, then housewares. Then they reached clothing and dressing rooms. Beyond those, a door with an emergency-exit sign above it hid in a corner.
“Walk out and go around the corner, then cross to the cars and get between them as fast as you can without running.” Chris knew Lauren would follow his instructions. Donna was another matter. “Don’t argue with me, Mrs. Delaney. We are trying to stay safe and get your dog back.”
“If they haven’t killed her already.”
“They haven’t. She was in the truck.”
Donna’s face lit. She might not be all that nice to Lauren, the daughter of the woman who had stolen her husband, but she loved her dog.
“Okay, let’s go.”
The area was deserted, making their exit easy. Fortunately. The instant Lauren pressed the panic bar on the door, an alarm began to blare. If any of the men after them were in the store, they might suspect what had happened. Chris could only hope and pray he found the SUV provided for him before anyone caught up with their location.
Ahead of him, the ladies were gone. He waited, ensuring they got away safely, then slipped out behind them and speed walked as Lauren had before, covering a great deal of ground in a short period of time without drawing the attention running did. He caught up with Lauren and Donna in moments. From behind the pickup truck they had chosen for cover, he counted rows, spotted the Jeep, compared it to the picture on his phone.
“Right there.” He pointed it out to the ladies.
“Does it run?” Lauren asked.
“I expect it runs perfectly, but I can’t guarantee any other luxuries.” Chris shepherded them before him. He would have felt better with his gun, something he still needed to talk to Lauren about.
She couldn’t possibly have it. He couldn’t be thinking straight to believe for a moment she would have taken it. She hated guns, had said so often in the past.
And yet...
Regardless, he needed to get them all away as quickly as possible.
He found the key in a magnetized case inside the right rear wheel well and clicked open the door locks. “Go ahead and get in.” He popped the back and dropped in his purchases, then rummaged through the bag to find the car charger for his cell.
“I’ll sit in the back,” Lauren was saying. “I don’t mind at all.”
“You won’t be able to talk to your deputy US marshal.” Donna’s tone held a sarcastic note that made it more taunting than teasing.
Lauren maintained silence on that subject. Chris could guess what she was thinking, though—I have nothing to say to him.
Once upon a time, they had barely been able to stop talking to one another. As he slammed the back hatch and rounded the Jeep to climb into the driver’s seat, he admitted he missed those days. She hadn’t simply been his girlfriend. She had been his best friend.
Yet he had made a major life decision without talking it over with her first. He had kept his application to the US Marshals Service secret. When he received his job offer, he had accepted the position, then resigned from his law firm before he told Lauren of his decision.
That had been arrogant and stupid. He should tell her that. Maybe if he had discussed it with her, she would have understood and supported his decision.
And pigs were going to start flying any minute now. In no way would she have supported his decision. Deputy US marshals who wanted promotion didn’t marry the daughters of felons. He had known that. So why had he believed he and Lauren would be different?
Wishful thinking. They had shared so much—the same faith, the same love of lakes and snow and strategy games before a roaring fire and so much more. He had hoped they could overcome anything.
But he had shut her out of his decision.
Maybe if he admitted he’d been wrong, she would at least like him again.
Feeling like a teen with his first crush, Chris slid into the driver’s seat and slipped the key into the ignition. He started to turn it to start the car.
“Don’t.” From the back seat, Lauren grabbed his arm.
* * *
Lauren knew she was being silly. She knew she should let go of Chris’s arm and let them get away from the parking lot, away from the last sighting of the men trying to kill them—or at least her. But she couldn’t make her fingers open enough to release him. Her hand clutched his well-formed biceps, shaking at the idea of what could happen to them if Chris turned that key.
“Lauren.” He shifted in his seat and covered her hand with his free one. “We’re all right. The Jeep’s all right. It was thoroughly inspected less than a half hour ago and has been under total surveillance since.”
“I know. I know, but—”
“Knock it off,” Donna commanded. “Grow a spine.”
Lauren had never considered she was missing backbone, lacking courage, until that moment when she couldn’t bear the idea of Chris turning the ignition only to have the SUV explode in a hail of flaming steel and fuel. She looked into Chris’s lake-blue eyes and realized what a coward she had been in their relationship. She’d claimed she loved him, but her fears had kept her from supporting him in the career he’d felt led to pursue.
“I’m sorry.” She managed to release his arm, but her apology ran so much deeper than for preventing him from starting the Jeep.
“It’s all right. Put your seat belt on.” Chris faced forward and turned the key.
The SUV roared to life without blasting them all to fragments.
Lauren released her breath in a gusty sigh.
“You’re just like your mother,” Donna said. “She couldn’t face the truth either.”
Lauren clutched her knees. She couldn’t argue with Donna.
Momma had run the instant her husband was arrested. She had claimed she didn’t think him guilty of money laundering and attempted murder, then packed up everything of value she could lay her hands on and vanished.
Her daughter didn’t hold enough value to take with the silver candlesticks and Waterford crystal.
“What truth is Lauren running away from?” Chris asked.
“She knows. She’ll tell you if she has the courage. Now, where are we going?”
“To someplace safe.” Chris’s answer was as evasive as Donna’s.
Lauren wanted a straight answer from Donna. She wasn’t sure herself from what truth she was allegedly running.
“Seems to me,” Lauren said, “that you were the one running away from the truth when you denied Ryan was in your house.”
“I can’t believe he wouldn’t have spoken to me,” Donna said.
“He was protecting you.” Lauren picked at a frayed edge of vinyl on the armrest. “He is good at protecting those he cares about.”
“Then why did he lead those men straight to both of you?” Chris sounded angry.
“Because something else was more important to protect.” Lauren spoke slowly as the ideas slogged through her exhausted brain. “He needed to get information to us that is bigger than we are.”
&n
bsp; “What’s more important than his mother?” Donna nearly whined that one. “May I smoke if I open the window?”
“No.” Chris’s answer was resounding. “This is federal property.”
Donna sighed with frustration.
Lauren sighed with relief.
“Keeping lots of people safe at once is bigger even than his mother,” Lauren suggested. “A whole neighborhood of people or a city.”
“Or a country,” Chris said.
“Ryan wouldn’t know anything about criminals trying to harm any large number of people.” Donna removed a cigarette from her purse and stuck it between her lips. “He sold real estate, not state secrets.”
“It doesn’t have to be state secrets to affect many people,” Chris said.
Donna and Chris bantered back and forth about what those possibilities could be. Lauren tuned them out, planning the steps she needed to take once she had the USB drive and a computer. Every moment proved a struggle not to fall asleep. Other than a couple of catnaps, she hadn’t slept since the previous morning. She didn’t think Chris had slept at all either. Nor Ryan, wherever he had gone. Whyever he had gone. Ryan, the one person not to abandon her, had taken himself out of her reach with his actions.
Except Chris hadn’t truly abandoned her. She had sent him away. For five years she had bolstered her broken heart with the tale of how Chris had made their future impossible with his actions. Though he was wrong to have made a new and major career move without so much as telling her, she was the one who’d slammed the door on their future.
The right move for him. She had done it for him. He would have an easier time not being married to Richard Delaney’s daughter. She’d gained nothing by ending their engagement—nothing but heartache and loneliness.
If her heart could still ache, she must still care.
Not liking the direction of her contemplations, Lauren focused her mind on solving the USB drive problem. That carried her all the way to her own territory, the town near where her house had stood for more than fifty years and the friendly sheriff’s department.
“What am I supposed to do while you’re messing about on the computer?” Donna asked.
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