“What about the man with the scar on his face? A minute ago, I heard him in this room talking to the one I clobbered.”
A smile flickered across Hunter’s lips as his gaze went past her shoulder into the room where the bald man lay sprawled, unmoving. Score another big one for the courageous Karissa.
He nodded approval at her. “Scar Lip is in the outer hallway taking a nap similar to your guy’s. I put him out of commission with the butt of my pistol as he exited the room and then I stepped in here in time to see you take care of the other hired thug.”
An answering smile trembled on Karissa’s lips. “I don’t know how to thank you. How did you find me? That woman at Golden Days must have removed my tracker when she put me in this ridiculous gown.”
“Let’s just say I was close enough behind you to get the tracker onto the vehicle that took off with you inside.”
“Thank You, Jesus.” Karissa slumped.
Hunter reached out to steady her, but she’d already pulled herself together and squared her shoulders.
“We need to get out of here quickly,” she said. “I overheard the goons saying that he, the big boss, was due here any time. We don’t know how much muscle he will bring with him.”
“At least now we know the gender of the person we’re pitted against,” Hunter said.
“Narrows the suspect pool considerably.”
He grinned at the dry humor in her voice as he scanned the sparsely furnished area for something that would serve as restraints for the thugs who had been guarding Karissa. A battered metal desk held the remnants of a card game the guards must have been playing. A single lamp with an extension cord perched on the edge of the desk. The cord would have to do.
With Karissa’s help, he dragged the scar-lipped thug over to his buddy in the outer room of the makeshift cell where Karissa had been held and bound them tightly together. He scooped up the bald thug’s gun and tucked it in his own waistband, along with the firearm he’d taken from Scar Lip and the one he’d borrowed from Buck’s friend. Quite an arsenal he’d accrued. Then he shut the door and locked it with the key that was still in the hole.
From the front of the building, a sound reached them—a door opening and closing.
A tremor ran through Hunter. “Someone’s coming.”
Grasping Karissa’s upper arm, he jerked his head toward a side door in the room her guards had occupied. Hopefully, that direction might lead them to a rear exit of the warehouse. Sure enough, they entered a corridor with the option to head toward the back of the building. Ushering Karissa ahead of him, Hunter drew the Ruger from his waistband and kept one eye on their rear as they moved almost noiselessly but not nearly as quickly as he would like.
God, please help us to find an exit soon.
Natural sunlight beckoned from a window up ahead, and a shout from behind notified them that the unconscious thugs had been found. Pursuit was about to begin. More shouts and angry voices alerted them that they had multiple adversaries.
Without being told, Karissa increased her speed, and Hunter stayed on her tail. They reached the wall with the window, and there the corridor turned to the left into a tiny foyer framing a metal exit door. Hunter expelled a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. He stepped in front of Karissa and rammed sideways into the bar latch. A raucous alarm sounded as the door sprang open, admitting late afternoon sunlight and fresh air. Hunter scanned the asphalt parking area, his gun following his gaze. So far, so good. No vehicles or people in sight. Just the wall of another warehouse several dozen feet distant.
“C’mon.” He motioned Karissa to precede him. “Your car keys were in your purse that got left at Golden Days Care Center, so I grabbed your Toyota to follow you. It’s parked in the alley one building over. We need to make a run for it. Keep me between you and whoever is after us.”
She nodded and scurried ahead. Hunter trotted after her. If only he’d had some way to secure that door they’d just come through. As it was, his body as a shield and the firepower at his disposal were all that stood between Karissa and the determined killers coming after them. It was possible that one of them was the mastermind behind all this mayhem, but they couldn’t afford to pause in their flight to get eyes on the guy.
They reached the second warehouse that offered a modicum of cover and skirted the wall toward the alleyway. A loud bark sounded, and a bullet pinged off the brick a few inches from Hunter’s head. They had a shooter coming up behind them. He whirled and returned fire. The gunman ducked back around the corner of the warehouse.
Ahead of him, Karissa broke into a dead run. Hunter followed suit, even as he fired another shot toward the lurking thug to discourage him from popping out again and firing on them with better results than the first time. They reached the end of the warehouse and the beginning of the alley. Hunter grabbed Karissa’s shoulder and halted her flight. He peered around the corner of the building. Her little car sat, quiet and unattended by enemy goons. Probably they hadn’t been able to locate it yet.
“Time to skedaddle,” he told Karissa.
“I’ll drive. You shoot.”
She held out her hand for her car keys. Hunter plunked them into her palm. Then he sent another shot behind them toward the guy who was starting to poke his head around the building again. Shouts from other directions let them know their pursuers were attempting to close in around them.
“Go!” he rasped urgently.
Karissa went, her slipper-clad feet fairly skimming the pavement. Hunter’s hiking boots pounded after her. From the corner of a building ahead, an assailant jumped out, but Hunter pulled the trigger and sent him leaping backward into cover. Out of the corner of his eye, Hunter made out Karissa reaching the Toyota and lunging into place behind the wheel. Hunter hopped in beside her and hit the button to roll down the window even as she started the car and floored the gas.
The little vehicle showed enough get-up-and-go to thrust them back against their seats. They roared out of the alley. A loud crash announced that the rear window had succumbed to a bullet. Hunter answered fire, though whether he hit anyone he couldn’t tell. However, getting away was the point. Shooting someone wasn’t—as much as he felt like taking these goons down, especially Mr. Mastermind. Hunter scanned their surroundings and saw no sign of pursuit. Yet, anyway.
“Where to?” Karissa demanded as they left her captors in the rearview mirror. “My apartment is here in Portland, but I’m sure that’s not a wise or safe place to go.”
“Yes, someplace safe is an urgent need right now. Just drive as far away from here as you can get while I give the matter some thought. But first, a call to the police.”
Hunter got out his phone and, without giving his identity or mentioning Karissa, he made a 911 call, though he surmised that the gunfire in the area had already drawn their attention.
“I have an idea,” he said, pocketing his phone. “If you’ll trust me with something weird.”
“If? You’ve been my lifeline.” Karissa sent him a sidelong look as she continued to barrel down streets that were taking on a more and more residential quality.
“Best slow down,” he advised. “We don’t need to get stopped by a traffic cop.”
She complied by easing back her foot on the gas pedal. “Like I said. Where to? Another biker bar?”
“Quite the opposite. I know a guy in Portland who makes the Fortune 500 list and has promised me a favor.”
“Let me guess. You saved his cat from a fire.”
The strain in her tone let Hunter know she was bravely battling terror with corny humor.
He grinned. “It was his dog, actually, when his pool house burned down.”
Karissa shot him a sharp look. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Nope. He said if he could ever do something for me, just ask. Under normal circumstances I wouldn’t dream of taking him up on that offer
. Unprofessional to the max, but right now, I don’t care about professional ethics. Besides which, I’m not a firefighter anymore, so I don’t have that particular ethic to violate. Nobody, but nobody will look for you with him. In fact, his house is so big it might take anybody a week to locate you in there.”
Karissa spurted a chuckle. “If I’m hiding out, what are you going to do?”
“Dig for clues, so you may have to let me pick your brain in possibly painful areas.”
She let out a soft hum. “Whatever brain I have functional you may pick, but I don’t like the idea of you out there sleuthing alone.”
“Would you rather draw major attention by appearing in public in that getup?” He motioned toward her robe and slippers.
Karissa’s silence answered Hunter.
“Even from hiding,” he continued, “you can always get online and find out anything in your family’s digital footprint that might tell you about potential enemies.”
She sat up straighter. “Yes, I can do that. Here, let me pull over and give you the driver’s seat, so you can take me to your rich guy’s palatial mansion. Though what he’ll think about you showing up with a woman dressed like a hospital patient I shudder to speculate.”
They stopped and switched places in the front seat.
“Great! Here’s my purse,” she said as she pulled the object onto her lap from the floor of the passenger side. “I could start the search on my cell while you’re driving.”
Karissa dug out the phone and started pecking away. The cell dinged with a message then another and another. Hunter glanced her way and met her wide-eyed gaze.
“I’m afraid to look.” Her voice quivered.
“No need to be afraid,” he said, reaching over and giving her hand a quick squeeze. “I’m here.”
Karissa swiped then gasped and stared at the screen. She swiped and stared again, a strangled cry leaving her throat.
“You didn’t tell me!” she cried. “You said you were there, but you didn’t let on that you were at fault. Why didn’t you tell me?”
The blood turned to icy sludge in Hunter’s veins. No! Not now!
“These texts are all links to news articles like this.” She thrust her phone toward him.
Hunter didn’t need to look, but he glanced anyway. His sober, smoke-smudged face—clean shaven and scar-free—stared back at him from an unflattering photo taken of him at a fire prior to the one that claimed Anissa. Karissa’s twin’s pretty face appeared next to his. The headline bathed him in hot shame.
“‘Is Firefighter Negligence to Blame for Fatality in House Fire?’”
Hunter opened his mouth to attempt some explanation. But what explanation? It was too late for that, anyway. He clamped his jaw shut. The contempt in Karissa’s eyes flayed him alive.
ELEVEN
Blackness edged Karissa’s vision. She could scarcely draw oxygen into her lungs, and a giant, invisible fist squeezed her heart. Anissa was dead because of this man next to her. The guy was no hero. His taking up of her cause had to be nothing more than an attempt to soothe his guilt. Or was he actually part of this whole plot? No, she couldn’t make sense of that conclusion when he’d had more than ample opportunity to either do away with her himself or hand her over to whoever was trying to kill her. The minutes-ago gunfight was a case in point.
“Don’t you see what our enemy is trying to do?” Hunter’s desperate tones reached her as if from a distance. “He’s trying to get you to hate me and reject my protection so I’ll be out of his way.”
“At this moment, I don’t much care.” Her words came out high and thin. “I can hardly bear to sit next to you.”
Her glance at him revealed a stony profile leached of color.
“I understand your reaction, and I respect it,” he said softly, but with steel undergirding his tone. “However, for the next few minutes, anyway, you’ll have to endure my presence. After I drop you off with my guy, you don’t have to see me again—provided we can get to the bottom of what is going on, find Kyle and secure your safety.”
“Right. Then you can ride off into the sunset with the score evened up, and you don’t have to carry your guilt anymore.”
“It doesn’t work that way, Karissa. We both know there is one answer for guilt and shame, and good deeds don’t make up for or earn anything.”
She sniffed, deliberately staring out the side window and tamping down the nudge in her gut that this man spoke the truth—that he was, in fact, a brother in the Lord, regardless of his colossal failure toward her family, and that, as a Christian, she was supposed to forgive. Just like Jesus forgave his tormenters from the cross. Nothing so charitable was in her mind or heart right now.
What was the matter with her that she had felt attraction to this man? That she had to fight its insidious pull even now? What a betrayal of her love for her sister! How could she bear to so much as look at Hunter one minute more? Anissa was dead because this guy didn’t do his job! She shook with the blaze roaring through her.
Karissa sat in silence, fists clenched, while Hunter called the man whose home he wanted to use as a safe house. Turned out the guy was off globe-trotting somewhere, but he said he’d call his housekeeper to let them in. The woman, he’d told Hunter, would be around for at least another hour before she went home for the day. Karissa acknowledged this information with a small grunt—the most she could manage without spewing more venom in Hunter’s direction.
Soon, their journey took them uphill into the Arlington Heights district, a posh residential area overlooking the city. The view was truly breathtaking, but her breath was already taken by the information she’d received about Hunter. To think she’d admired and trusted him...even nurtured hope that they could explore the possibilities of an ongoing relationship when—if—this mess got sorted out and they were both still alive.
Dusk was starting to creep around them when they drove under a vine-covered archway onto a horseshoe driveway with a massive two-story home at its curved apex. Multiple dormers peered out upon a spacious lawn and garden layout that rioted color in neatly manicured formations. This much real estate in this upscale neighborhood was pricey indeed.
Without a glance in her direction, Hunter exited the car and strode up to the front door. On feet that felt as if they were moving through sludge, Karissa followed. Her head was pounding unbearably again. This entire day had brimmed with the kind of stress the doctor had warned her against, but she hadn’t had much control over how any of it unfolded. She could only thank God that, once again, she was delivered from the clutches of a murderer. A whisper in her soul reminded her that God had wrought this deliverance in large part through the damaged ex-fireman who now stood at the door of the mansion arranging for her safekeeping.
She shushed the whisper and trudged on faltering legs up the steps to the front door. A matronly woman with her salt-and-pepper hair arranged into a severe bun motioned her to come inside. As Karissa stepped over the threshold, her head started to spin and her knees to buckle. A masculine exclamation was followed by strong arms coming around her. Consciousness faded to nothingness.
* * *
In the deepening darkness, Hunter guided Karissa’s Toyota toward Portland Fire and Rescue Station Number 1. Leaving Karissa in Mrs. Peterson’s care had been gut-wrenching, but also necessary. The housekeeper seemed more than competent. She’d assured him she’d look in on Karissa before she left for the night. He’d offered to pay her to stay over, but the woman needed to be at a granddaughter’s choir concert that evening and refused his offer. Naturally, the housekeeper’s departure meant Karissa would be in the house alone until Hunter accomplished his mission. He wasn’t exactly comfortable with that idea, but a better option hadn’t presented itself. He’d have to make sure he got back to her side as quickly as possible—whether she wanted him there or not.
Also, Karissa losing consciousness
was worrisome, but the intern at the hospital had warned that she could do so at any time if she left medical care too soon, especially if she underwent stress. Considering the day they’d had, it was a marvel Karissa hadn’t passed out sooner. When he’d left, she was resting comfortably, her pulse and respirations were normal, and her pupil dilation was uniform—all good signs that she just needed time to take it easy and recover.
No, Hunter had to let go of his worries about Karissa’s care and concentrate on exposing who wanted to harm her, as well as whatever he could uncover regarding Kyle’s whereabouts. In that regard, a new approach had suddenly occurred to him. One that might not have swum into his consciousness had their enemy not chosen suddenly to turn the spotlight on Hunter’s supposed culpability in Anissa’s fiery death. If, as Karissa and he had tentatively concluded, the deaths in Karissa’s family were all orchestrated and not accidents at all, that meant someone may have sabotaged the equipment that failed during the tragic fire, and the same person could well have disposed of the checklist that would have proven Hunter had done the safety check after all.
Had he been framed as part of this major conspiracy? Hope leaped in him at the thought. Yet the idea would seem ludicrous, except for the fact that the ferocity of the attacks on Karissa these past few days demonstrated a will of extraordinary resourcefulness and determination. Had this mastermind bribed or coerced one of Hunter’s fellow firefighters at the station to do his dirty work? If anyone had acted as a saboteur, it had to be someone with access to restricted areas in the fire station and intimate familiarity with the equipment. Only another firefighter fit that bill.
The idea curdled Hunter’s stomach. In their line of work, his colleagues had become more like brothers and sisters than coworkers. For one to betray another—betray the very calling of their life’s work—was nearly unthinkable. Yet there was a possibility that it had happened. Now, it was up to Hunter to expose the traitor, not only for the sake of proving his own innocence—that was a peripheral issue at the moment—but as a tangible link to whoever was behind the vendetta against the Landon family.
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