by Diana Duncan
She smiled at Aidan. “No matter how long or dark the night, the sun always triumphs in the morning.”
He jolted, his expression startled. “Where did you hear that?”
“You said it when I was swimming us to shore. I was so cold and tired, and I started to wonder if we’d make it. Your words gave me the strength to keep going.”
“Pop,” he whispered. “After the armored car robbery money went missing and he was forced into desk duty, he said that often. I was so whacked, I didn’t realize I’d spoken out loud.” He hesitated. “I ... ah ... I’ve felt his presence close by ever since I fell over the cliff.”
Joy resonated inside her. Her practical police officer had risked confiding something deeply personal, a mystical belief some might ridicule. He’d never share anything so private if he didn’t trust her. She laid her hand on his cheek. “That tenacious Celtic warrior’s blood is his legacy, passed from father to son. Part of him will always live on in you.”
He swallowed hard. “I never thought of it that way. It’s comforting.” He pressed a tender kiss to her palm. “Have I mentioned how much I love the way you think?”
She shivered, impacted by both the warm emotion thrumming in his deep voice and the cool morning air. “Not lately.”
“I love the way your mind works.” He slid his arm around her and drew her close to his bare chest.
He loved her mind. A good start. She shivered again. “Summer mornings out here are chilly. A hot espresso—or six—would be fabulous.” Careful not to bump the sling, she snuggled into his reassuring heat. “Why aren’t you cold?”
He pulled back slightly and his smoky glance drifted down her body, warming her from head to toe. “With you dressed like that? I’m not even anywhere in the vicinity of cool.”
“I noticed.” His arousal nudged her stomach and she grinned. “Hard to keep a good man down, huh?”
His forefinger tilted her chin up and his intense gaze caressed her face. “I’m not turned-on 24/7 with just any woman. Only you.”
Her heart stuttered. The world disappeared as she stared into his compelling brown eyes. He lowered his head, his soft lips enticing hers into a deep, sensual kiss.
He pulled back. Slowly, her eyelids drifted up. Her pulse tripped through her veins double-time. “Who needs a caffeine rush, when I have you?” She brushed a tousled lock of hair from his forehead. He was even more appealingly male, more ruggedly handsome, sporting dark morning stubble. One of those pirate smugglers—tumbled out of bed after a night of carnal sin.
She probably looked like his partner in crime, only not nearly as gorgeous. “Ooh! Smoke!”
He grinned. “I admit, we’re hot together, but ...”
“No! Behind you!” She pointed. “Through the trees ... smoke! Several columns of it!”
He spun. “I’ll be damned. Civilization!”
They approached cautiously. Hidden in the woods, they peered at a dozen log homes hunkered inside a clearing chiseled out of the forest. A wide dirt road bisected the encampment. Tangy smoke drifted from chimneys, and somewhere, a puppy yipped. Nearly every house sported a pickup, several with trailered boats. Most doors stood ajar to the fresh morning air. A middle-aged woman watered pink petunias. A man in overalls and rubber boots retrieved a bucket from a red truck. Zoe pursed her lips. “Awfully early to be up and around.”
She watched Aidan cautiously assess every detail. The weathered wooden building at the far end looked like a set from High Noon, where a sign reading “General Store and Post Office” hung over the doorway. Three carved totem poles stood sentinel in a turnaround directly in front of it. The store’s generous porch sported a bench where several gray-whiskered men sat chugging from steaming mugs. “A fishing community has to get going before sunrise.”
A curvaceous redhead in brown slacks and a sunflower yellow cardigan stepped out of the largest house and strolled toward the store. She chatted with the grizzled seniors on the porch, tossing her head in laughter. Aidan nodded. “Looks clear. The UNSUBS are highly unlikely to pursue us in front of so many witnesses.”
She breathed a sigh. She couldn’t wait to leave the past behind and start her future. Sooner the better. “What are we waiting for?”
“Stay behind me.” He kept her slightly behind him on the right with his left arm free as they walked down the dirt road.
The men and woman on the porch fell silent and turned to gawk. Unseen, wary stares burned into Zoe’s spine from every window they passed. Even the totem poles glared malevolently. She edged closer to Aidan and murmured, “It’s all good ... until you hear a banjo.”
He choked back a laugh. “Don’t diss the natives.”
She studied the solemn faces riveted on them. “They’re not exactly rolling out the Welcome Wagon.”
“We’re half-dressed strangers who look like Survivor rejects. We don’t exactly appear reputable.”
They finally reached the porch. Aidan nodded at the group, which had been joined by a slim blonde woman and a short, balding man. “Morning, folks. I’m Officer Aidan O’Rourke with Riverside PD.” He flashed his badge. Thank goodness she’d rescued his wallet from G-Rat. “We had an accident with our boat and need to use your phone.”
The balding man smiled and stepped forward. “Sure thing. I’m Dave. Own the store here. C’mon in.”
The store’s interior was scrupulously clean, well-organized shelves fully stocked. The rich scent of coffee and freshly-baked pastries emanating from a small espresso counter near the back made Zoe’s mouth water and her stomach grumble. Though she’d learned to subsist on very little, her stomach wasn’t always a team player.
Dave turned to wave at a partially open doorway. “The phone is in the office.” He studied Aidan’s sling. “Hope nobody was hurt too badly. Should I wake up Doc McAdams?”
Aidan slid his good arm around Zoe’s waist. “Don’t bother him. We’re anxious to get back to the mainland. Our people will have the entire Riverside PD out on search and rescue. Where are we, by the way?”
“Seventeen Mile Island off the Washington Coast. While you’re making your phone call, I’ll rustle up some chow.” Dave slanted Zoe an appreciative male grin. “And maybe warmer duds for the little lady?”
Her cheeks heated as she tugged down the hem of the hopelessly wrinkled tux shirt. “I had to use my dress as a signal flag. That’d be very nice, thank you.”
She and Aidan headed into the tidy office. She spotted someone lurking in the corner and jumped. The other person jumped, too. It was the ghost of her reflection in a large mirror on the side wall. Her lower lip was swollen and her face bruised from G-Rat’s backhand. But she touched the imprint of Aidan’s kiss at her throat, smiling as last night’s wonderful memories eclipsed all others.
He picked up the cordless handset from the desk and stabbed the “talk” button. Bringing the receiver to his ear, he frowned.
“What’s wrong?”
Puzzled, he punched another button. “No dial tone.”
She peeked over his shoulder. “Is it charged?”
He checked the battery bars. “Yeah.”
“Weird. Maybe the base is unplugged or something.” She glanced around. “I don’t see it. We should let Dave know—”
As if on cue, Dave poked his head in the doorway. “Problem?”
Aidan indicated the receiver. “Phone isn’t working.”
“Yeah, I took it off the hook out front.” The storekeeper strode inside, holding a shotgun—aimed at them.
Aidan stepped in front of Zoe, putting his body between her and the gun, and screaming horror froze her insides.
“What the hell is this?” Aidan demanded.
She couldn’t see Dave anymore, but his pleasant tone didn’t change. “Put the phone down, nice and slow.”
Aidan carefully set the phone on the desktop. “You’re making a big mistake.” A lethal threat vibrated beneath his quiet, even voice. “You saw the badge. I’m a police officer.”
The muscles in Aidan’s bare back knotted. “If you shoot me with a shotgun at such close range, there’s no way you can avoid hitting her.”
“Nah.” Nothing charming about his tone this time. “Not with you shielding her.”
Aidan’s taut readiness telegraphed to her he was waiting for a chance to lunge. She grasped his arm, willing him not to. He shook her off. “I’ll stay as a hostage. Let her go and I’ll double the reward.”
She opened her mouth to protest as Dave snorted. “On a cop’s salary?”
“My family has money. We can afford it.”
“They can pony up four million bucks?”
She inhaled sharply. Who wanted her so badly they’d pay two million dollars? What hornets’ nest had her investigation stirred up? She hadn’t discovered anything important.
Or had she?
“Sure.” Though the lie flowed easily from Aidan’s lips, she knew damned well his family couldn’t scrounge up anything near that amount.
“Bird in the hand ...” Dave motioned with the gun. “Outside.”
Aidan tugged a shaking Zoe in front of him and stayed between her and the gun that was now at his back as they walked through the store. “I have three brothers, all cops. They won’t rest until they find us. No amount of money is worth the price they’ll make you pay.”
“We ain’t never been caught. I’ll take my chances.”
They stepped onto the porch. “Please,” Zoe begged the watching men and women. “Help us. Call 911.”
Four dispassionate gazes slid away. Not one person moved. The moisture evaporated from her mouth. What kind of place had they stumbled into? She tried again. “The man with me is a cop. You’re aiding and abetting a kidnapping that crossed state lines. The Feds will stomp you hard.”
Dave chuckled. “Folks around here like breathing too much to turn on the Boss.” He inclined his head toward a large log building looming behind the store. “Move it or lose it.”
As Dave marched them inside the building, his right hand shot out. An electric crackle, a blue flash of Taser fire, and Aidan convulsed, crumpling at her feet. Dave yanked the electrodes out of Aidan’s back, then departed, slamming and bolting the heavy steel door behind him.
Heart pounding, she fell to her knees. “Aidan!” She gently lifted his head into her lap. His eyes were closed, his body limp. His breathing and pulse were slow, but even. “Aidan?”
He didn’t regain consciousness.
She glanced anxiously around. Their prison was a large log warehouse that reeked of ammonia. Windows were open way up near the beamed ceiling. Big ceiling fans circled in slow motion, and beakers, rubber tubing, hotplates, bottles of chemicals, and assorted debris littered several counters. Stacked wooden pallets lined one wall. Super. A meth lab.
KKEY had done a feature on rural meth cookers. They viciously defended their territory, often shooting innocent hikers unlucky enough to accidentally stumble into their midst. She glanced down at Aidan and her stomach cramped. They also had no fear of mercilessly shooting law-enforcement officers.
She retrieved a towelette from her survival bag to wipe Aidan’s face. “C’mon, SWAT, wake up.”
He stirred, moaned.
She patted his cheek. “Aidan. Open your eyes.”
His eyelids drifted up. His glazed eyes studied the ceiling. “Fuckit,” he mumbled.
“That about sums it up. Apparently, ‘the Boss’ manages a major meth lab.”
He blinked. Groaned again. “One more dickweed zaps me ... I’m gonna shove the Taser up his ass.” He struggled. “Can’t move yet.”
She stroked his hair. “Take it easy for a few minutes.”
The door creaked open and the attractive redhead in the yellow sweater slipped inside carrying a canvas grocery bag. She was older than Zoe had first thought, probably mid-forties. “I was told to bring you food and water.” The woman saw Aidan and abruptly halted. “I didn’t think he’d come around yet. Either of you moves, I leave.”
As Aidan stiffened, Zoe could tell he was marshaling his resources. “We need your help, ma’am,” he said.
The woman edged back. “I don’t talk to cops.”
Zoe rested her hand protectively on Aidan’s shoulder. He needed sustenance to restore his strength. Even if by some impossible feat of willpower he managed to gain his feet, disable the woman, and they made it out unseen, no way could he run. “We’ll stay put.” She held the woman’s gaze, attempting to connect. “This is Aidan O’Rourke and I’m Zoe Zagretti. What’s your name?”
“I know who you are. I saw you on TV yesterday with that lady whose husband took her kids hostage. I’m Dorothy.” The redhead sidled closer, but stayed out of reach. She squatted, set out paper plates and napkins, then withdrew bottled water, wrapped sandwiches, and two red apples from the bag. Her sharp attention lingered on Zoe’s bruised cheek, cut lip, and the mark on her throat before skimming her scraped limbs. She flicked an angry glance at Aidan, cradled in Zoe’s lap, those cat’s eyes blazing with reproach.
Aidan tensed and shock rippled through Zoe. Clearly, Dorothy held Aidan responsible for her injuries. “You’ve got the wrong idea. Aidan would never hurt me. One of the men hunting us hit me, and I’m bruised from running through the woods. Dorothy, we haven’t done anything wrong. We don’t deserve to die. Please help us.”
“I wish— I can’t.” Tears glistened in her eyes. “I can’t.” Her glance skittered past Zoe, to the wall. “What you said on TV, is it true? Are there safe places a woman can go?”
Realization dawned, and with it, empathy. This woman was as much a prisoner as they were. “Yes,” she said softly. “It’s the absolute truth. You can call 1-800-799-SAFE any time for assistance. Or go online to www.thehotline.org and live chat with a counselor, without having to say anything out loud. Safety features are built into the website so you can easily escape out of the page, and it erases your browsing history.”
Dorothy stood. “I have to leave, before ...”
“Please, Dorothy,” Zoe begged. “Just phone 911, or go online at the domestic violence hotline and tell them we’re here. You can stay anonymous, you don’t have to give your name. Aidan’s a good man. A good cop. He won’t let anyone retaliate against you, I promise.”
Dorothy shook her head. Edged back. “I did all I could. I’m sorry.” Her voice caught. “I’m so sorry.” She crept out.
Battling despair, Zoe helped Aidan sit up. Side by side, they wolfed the simple but filling meal.
He tossed his crumpled napkin onto his plate. “Life with you is never boring, Lois Lane.”
Weariness weighed her down. She’d thought they were on their way home. She’d barely blinked and their lives were back in jeopardy. She couldn’t take much more. “Right now, boring sounds very appealing. Please, give me an ass-ton of boring.”
“Come here.” He cuddled her against his bare chest. Beneath smooth, hot skin and hard muscles, his heart beat steady and sure.
She smiled up at him. “Hmm, maybe not totally boring.”
He kissed the tip of her nose. “I need you gone. Need you safe.” At her protest, he put an index finger on her lips. “Hear me out.”
“Let me guess, you have a plan? One I’m guaranteed to hate?”
“If you stood on my shoulders, you might be able to reach a window.”
She cringed. “Your pain would be excruciating.”
“Eh, what’s a little pain between lovers?”
“There you go, getting kinky on me again.” She trailed her fingertip over the fine, dark hairs on his forearm, listening to his heartbeat accelerate beneath her ear. “I can’t bear the thought of hurting you.”
“Our captor
s have no such qualms. If we don’t get out of here, a little ding in my shoulder will be the least of our problems.”
“Seriously, there has to be another way. I don’t want to abandon you, especially when you’re wounded and dazed.”
“I can take care of myself. What I can’t do is fight my way out of here one-handed and protect you. You have to go, or we’re both screwed.”
She sighed. He was right. She’d only be a liability to him. “What’ve you got?”
“Leave me the fishing lures.” She extracted them from her bag. He set them aside and continued. “When you make it outside, head for deep cover. The dock is west of here, so follow the sun. Steal a boat and head out to sea, toward the mainland. It’s east, away from the sun. I’ll escape, do the same, then meet you at Riverside PD.”
“All right.”
He positioned himself beneath a back window toward the woods. She removed her sandals, stuck them in her survival bag, then draped the handle across her chest. He crouched facing the wall while she stepped onto his shoulders. He gripped her hand and rose to his full height, hissing out a slow breath.
She winced. “Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about me, sweetheart.”
“Someone has to.” Sometimes his tough-guy attitude exasperated her ... but she deeply admired him. Her intelligent, brave, resourceful warrior had endured terrible pain all night with nary a complaint.
“No need. I’m gonna kick ass and take names.” He let go of her hand, then locked the fingers of his good hand around her ankle to help her balance. “You still have my knife from last night. Stab it into the wall for a handhold.”
Using the knife and the rough, stacked log walls for hand and toeholds, she climbed up to the window. Straddling the sill, she tied the nylon rope from her bag around the heavy casement handle. “Get ready to catch, I’m gonna toss down your knife.”
“Keep it. It’s your only weapon. I’ll improvise from stuff in here.”
“Okay. Behave yourself.” She blew him a kiss. “No imbibing the illegal substances.”
Striking face stern, he stared up at her. “Don’t come back for me this time. I mean it! Get out while you can.” Dark brows drew together in a scowl. “I want your word.”