by Lisa Childs
When Hart pulled off onto a more remote road, the black sedan was the only one behind him.
Was this person like Terrance Gibbs, so frightened to disappoint Luther Mills that he would risk getting caught to do his bidding?
Hart had caught him following him. And because of that, he’d made certain he’d taken roads leading away from the safe house. There was no way he would let anyone follow him to his daughter and Wendy’s parents. He wasn’t able to protect her anymore, but at least he could protect them.
He also wanted to protect innocent bystanders, so he turned onto another street, one so untraveled that it wasn’t paved. Hell, it was more dirt than gravel even. He didn’t know where it was headed, but he didn’t care.
Of course, if he was more familiar with the area, he might have been able to lead the sedan into a trap. He still might be able to even though this SUV, his personal one, wasn’t souped up like the Payne Protection vehicles. His was all-wheel drive, though; the sedan was probably only front-wheel.
He sped up and the car sped up, as well. The driver didn’t seem to care that he’d been made. He had to know that Hart wasn’t going to lead him to the safe house now. But maybe he was so angry and so desperate that he had nothing to lose anymore. He made that clear when he accelerated so hard he rammed into the back bumper of the SUV.
Hart cursed. His vehicle definitely wasn’t as good as the Payne Protection ones. It was lighter, the metal not reinforced. He had to grip the steering wheel tightly as he fought to keep the vehicle on the road. What gravel there was sprayed out behind his tires, striking the hood of the sedan and kicking up against the windshield. The glass cracked, obscuring Hart’s view of the driver.
Who the hell was after him?
It felt personal now.
There was no one else in his vehicle, so it wasn’t as if someone was only trying to get him out of the way to get to Wendy. If that were the case, she would have been shot at the hotel once he’d been hit and had fallen.
But the shooter had stopped shooting then. Had never even fired a shot at her.
No. Hart was the target.
The thought stunned him for a moment and he didn’t see the curve until it was too late. He hit his brakes to slow down, but the tires hit a patch of slick mud. His SUV spun like he’d hit ice. Even though the vehicle was all-wheel drive, the tires couldn’t grip the road.
The SUV slid off the road, tumbling as it struck the steep ditch. It rolled again, out of the ditch and into a stand of trees. Curses slipped through his lips as the impact jarred his wounded leg. But his leg was the least of his concerns right now. A branch had broken through the windshield, pushing the rearview mirror toward Hart until it struck his temple.
He blinked and tried to clear his vision, but everything had gone black.
Chapter 21
Luther stared through the shatterproof glass. Some years had passed since Parker Payne had been a vice cop, but the man didn’t look any older than he had back then. Son of a bitch was too damn good-looking to age badly. But then, hopefully, he wouldn’t age much more than he already was.
Luther picked up the handset, the twin to which Parker already clutched on the other side of the glass. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” he asked, his voice thick with sarcasm.
He’d been getting bored. While he pretty much had free rein of the jail, it was still jail. He couldn’t come and go as he pleased, especially since Jocelyn Gerber had started checking out the guards at the jail. Everyone was so damn worried about being caught associating with him.
He’d started feeling a little lonely. Lonely enough that he welcomed a visit from anyone—even a damn Payne.
A grimace of disgust crossed Parker’s stupidly handsome face. He wasn’t as pleased with this visit as Luther was. “It’s probably a waste of my time coming here...”
Luther would have a hell of a lot of time wasting away if he couldn’t get the charges against him tossed out, preferably before the trial even started. That was coming up quick, so he had to make that happen. Soon. Of course, he already had a plan in motion.
Had old Parker got wind of that plan?
He studied the other man through the glass. “What do you want, Payne?”
And what was he willing to give up for it?
The eyewitness?
The evidence tech?
Luther might not need his help with that last one, though. He had a promising lead.
“I want the truth,” Payne replied.
Luther snorted. “What? You think I don’t know these visits are recorded? You think I’m going to give you some emotional confession you can use against me?”
Especially not when he was so close to eliminating at least one of his problems.
“I don’t expect you to confess all your sins,” Parker said, glancing at his watch. “I don’t have that kind of time anyway.”
“Smart-ass.” That was the problem with the Paynes. They were too damn smart—for his good.
“I just want you to admit to one.”
Luther snorted again. “Then you are wasting your time...” He started to pull the phone away from his ear.
“Wait!” Parker said, his deep voice vibrating with frustration.
He did seem to want this particular information. Badly.
Maybe he would be willing to pay for it.
“Whatever you want, you’re going to have to pay for it,” Luther said. “You know I’ve never given freebies.”
That wasn’t entirely true. When he wanted to hook someone, he gave freebies. Then once they were hooked, he owned them. Hell, he pretty much owned everyone in River City. Or he used to...
Luther could feel that control slipping away from him now. And he hated it. Most especially, he hated the people who were trying to take that control away from him. That was pretty much every damn person associated with his trial, including the Payne Protection Agency.
They better not stop him from getting rid of that damn evidence tech. But then, there weren’t enough of them to stop him this time. That was what he’d learned from his previous failed attempts.
It wasn’t the big, bold attacks that hadn’t worked. It had been the crew he’d sent. He’d needed more experienced gun power.
“Luther,” Parker said then shook his head. “I just need to know about the bomb and the hotel.”
“What? Someone blew up a hotel?” He wanted no part of that; shit like that got Homeland Security involved, got people talking terrorists and stuff. And then evidence wasn’t all that important anymore. He would get shipped off somewhere that he couldn’t get messages to the outside anymore. Or he’d get killed. He shook his head. “That ain’t me. I don’t mess with that shit.”
“No bomb? Anywhere?” Parker asked.
“I told you. I don’t mess with that shit.”
“What about shooting up a hotel?” Parker asked.
“Hotel? What the hell are you trying to pin on me?” he asked angrily. He got mad enough when he was accused of the things he’d actually done. So maybe Parker needed to come back in a few hours after the evidence tech was eliminated...
Luther still wasn’t going to blow up anything. But he had that other plan in motion. And if she was holed up where he’d heard...
A smirk tugged up the corners of his mouth. “Only thing I’ve heard about since I’ve been in here are some houses or apartments getting shot up,” he replied. “And, of course, I had nothing to do with any of that.”
Parker snorted but nodded. He didn’t look any more pleased than he had when Luther had first walked into the visiting area. Obviously he hadn’t told him what he’d wanted to hear.
“I ain’t taking blame for something I haven’t done.”
Yet.
“You don’t take blame for what you have done,” Parker said with a heavy sigh. He started pulling the ph
one away from his ear.
“Wait!” Luther commanded. “Who got blown up? Who was at the hotel?”
Parker shook his head.
“Hey, I was honest with you,” Luther said. And that was something he very rarely was. “Tell me.”
“Hart Fisher.”
Luther chuckled. “Someone blew up Hart Fisher.”
Parker glared at him through the glass. “No. But someone tried.”
Luther’s chuckle turned to raucous laughter. Someone was helping him. Someone he didn’t even know and, fortunately, didn’t have to pay. When he finally stopped laughing, he noticed that Parker Payne was gone.
Now, if only the someone who tried blowing up Hart Fisher would take out the whole damn Payne Protection Agency...
* * *
Wendy hadn’t wanted to call him; she hadn’t wanted to seem desperate or like a stalker. But she hadn’t been able to help herself, not as her niggling doubts had turned into full-fledged fears.
As it had before, after a few rings, the call went to his voice mail. She disconnected at the first sound of his deep voice as it sent a shiver rushing through her every time. Maybe he just didn’t want to talk to her. But since she was using Nikki’s phone, he wouldn’t have even known she was the one calling him.
Wendy suspected there was another reason he wasn’t picking up: he couldn’t.
Hart was in danger; she just knew it somehow. They had connected while he was protecting her, in more than a sexual way. In a deeper way...
Or so she’d thought until he’d walked away from her at the lab. Of course, he’d been angry with her for having him reassigned. She must have hurt his pride. But she’d done it for him and for Felicity. His daughter could not lose her father.
“No answer?” Nikki asked. Her beautiful face was tense with concern.
Wendy shook her head. “Can you call my mom back?”
Nikki nodded and pulled out her cell. After punching in a number, she handed it to Wendy.
“Is he there yet?” she anxiously asked the moment her father picked up the phone.
“Hart?” Ben asked. “Why the hell is he coming without you anyway? He promised he’d take care of you.”
Since her father was swearing, he was obviously alone. “Dad, he’s a single father. His daughter needs him more than I do.”
She wasn’t so certain about that. She needed him, too, even more than she’d realized.
“Well, he’s not here,” her father said, disapproval in his voice. “She’s getting anxious waiting for him. She’s missed him and you. That little girl has already got attached.”
The fierce emotion in his voice made it clear that Felicity wasn’t the only one who’d got attached. He’d fallen for the little girl, as well.
He admitted it when he asked, “Do you think Hart will let us keep seeing her? Your mother will be devastated if she can’t.”
Wendy smiled. “Sure, Mom’s the only one...”
“You would, too,” her father said.
He was right.
But she wasn’t worried now about what Hart would or would not allow. She didn’t want her father to know what she was worried about, though, so she told him, “Hart’s boss, Parker, said that he got a late start today. So it’s not surprising he’s not there yet.”
“Then why did you call to see if he was?” her father asked. He was once again the football coach interrogating the team about their grades and their partying...and ferreting out the truth.
Nikki’s cell beeped with an incoming call, saving Wendy from that interrogation. “I have to go, Dad,” she said, grateful she’d had the chance to hear his voice. Her father’s strong voice had made her feel a little stronger. “Love you.”
He was saying he loved her, too, as she clicked Nikki’s cell to take the other call. Since it was Nikki’s brother and her cell, Wendy put it on speaker. “Yes?” she said. “Did you find him?”
“Um... Wendy?” Parker hedged.
She almost suspected he was stalling for time or determining how much to tell her. “I keep calling him,” she said, “and he’s not picking up. Have you tried?”
There was a long hesitation, a deep sigh and then, finally, an admission. “Yes...and no, he’s not picking up...”
“You need to find him,” she said.
“I know. That’s why I called Nikki. I need her to tap into the GPS on Hart’s vehicle or on his cell to see if she can pinpoint his location.”
Nikki grabbed her laptop, opened it and called out, “I’m on it.”
“You’re worried, too,” Wendy said. “Why? Did you figure out I was right about the bomb and the hotel shooting?”
“I don’t have proof,” Parker said. “But...”
“What?” Wendy prodded.
Nikki answered for her brother. “He has our mother’s sixth sense all of a sudden.” She sighed almost enviously. “Cooper got it, too, once he started his own franchise of Payne Protection.”
“Sixth sense?” Wendy asked.
“They just know when something bad is going to happen,” Nikki explained. Then her face flushed and she apologized. “I’m sorry. We don’t know that anything at all has happened to Hart.”
But Wendy knew—just like Parker did. Hart wasn’t picking up her call, not because he didn’t want to talk to her. But because he couldn’t...
* * *
The buzzing was so loud Hart felt it as well as heard it. It reverberated throughout his aching head and forced him to pry open his eyes and peer around. As he did, his head swam with disorientation and dizziness. He blinked again and focused on his surroundings.
He was upside down, pinned between his seat and the airbag that had inflated over his steering wheel. That airbag had probably saved his life. But he wasn’t safe yet.
Where had the driver of the other vehicle gone? He couldn’t see anything through the branches of the tree that had broken through his windshield. And he could hear only that intermittent buzzing.
It must have been his cell phone—wherever the hell it was. Then he noticed the flash of the screen. The cell was caught between the console and the passenger’s seat, which had been squeezed tightly together in the crash. The phone wasn’t broken, though, since it kept buzzing. Someone was calling him. Whoever it was couldn’t help him now. He had to get the hell out of the wreckage and help himself.
He had just managed to free his seat belt when the first gun blast echoed and a bullet pinged off the undercarriage of the SUV. He pushed aside the broken glass and the branches and shoved his way through the windshield. Jagged glass and metal caught at his clothes, tearing them and scratching his skin. He didn’t give a damn about scratches, though. He didn’t want to get shot again.
His thigh was still throbbing and aching from his earlier gunshot wound. He certainly didn’t want to get killed and leave Felicity alone. He had to escape—for his daughter.
And for Wendy...
He shouldn’t have walked away from her. He should have stayed and kept his promise to her father—kept her safe. Hell, he should have just kept her.
He shouldn’t have been such a damn coward when he’d realized how he’d felt about her. He shouldn’t have been so worried about getting hurt himself. He should have worried only about her getting hurt.
But maybe she was safer without him. Whoever was after him had to know he was alone in the SUV. Why were they still trying to kill him?
Once he scrambled through the branches and the glass, he was still beneath the wreckage—beneath the hood as the vehicle rested on the roof. Before edging out from under it, he reached for his holster. The snap had opened but, fortunately, his weapon hadn’t fallen out this time like it had during the explosion.
He pulled out his gun and slipped off the safety. As he edged out from the wreckage on his back, he fired at whoever was firing at
the undercarriage. He couldn’t see anything, but he hoped the barrage of bullets would keep the guy from firing back.
Once he was clear of the wreck, he scrambled to his feet and headed into the woods as fast as he could move with his leg throbbing and aching. After a few minutes, he heard brush rustling as the shooter scrambled down the steep ditch in pursuit.
He smiled.
Hart had no idea where the hell he was, but he knew that at least he wasn’t outnumbered as he had been at the Thompsons’.
This was a fair fight. Not that Hart intended to fight fair.
Chapter 22
Parker hurled the empty bottle of antacids in the trash can. No matter how many he took, he hadn’t eased that sick feeling in his gut. But he didn’t think it was just Hart who was in danger anymore.
He kept replaying that jailhouse meeting in his mind. Until Parker had brought up the bomb and the hotel, Luther had been relaxed. Like he hadn’t had a care in the world even though he was about to go on trial for murder.
He’d been more concerned about getting blamed for something he hadn’t done than going down for something he had done. Like he was pretty damn confident that trial would never happen...
Wendy had assured the chief that the evidence was safe. That Luther couldn’t get to it.
But what about her? Or the eyewitness?
Hell, even Parker didn’t know where Rosie Mendez was. So it had to be Wendy that Luther thought he could get to. She had refused to leave River City like Rosie had. So he’d found her a hotel with higher security than the one she’d stayed in with Hart, and he’d implemented their own security system with Nikki being in the room with her and a few other guards in the parking lot.
Was that enough if Luther sent the kind of firepower after her like he had at her parents’ house? Of course, the Thompson house had been easy to find. They were in the damn phone book.
How would Luther know which hotel Parker had booked for Wendy? How would he even know she was at a hotel? But then, Luther had people everywhere. That was the problem.