“Yeah, or terribly clever. He has someone grab the girl, then it looks like someone else is applying pressure. Stupid to let the tranqs get traced back to himself, though. I wonder if he is stupid?”
“Could be stupid. Or a player we haven’t met yet.”
She knew Matt hated jumping to conclusions. He liked the facts, just the facts before he made up his mind. Usually she was the same, but something about this situation was making her edgy. Uneasy.
“You ever seen a Gordian knot?” she asked.
“Not for a couple of years,” he said. “You think someone’s trying to play you?”
“I think,” she grinned at him, “I’ll keep the scissors handy.”
Matt grinned back. “Smart girl.”
* * * *
Luke had intended to talk to the local sheriff, but as he walked along the main drag, his gut started twitching like it had a condition. It had been quiet when they arrived, stashing their skis behind a boulder for later collection. Now he noticed trucks of hunters parked at each end of town. And a set in front of the police station. Another watching the local truck stop. And yet another had the local motel staked out. All seriously packing.
They didn’t seem to be doing anything in particular, but there was a watchfulness about them that tightened his gut. He strolled by one set and noticed that they had a police scanner inside the cab of their truck, the power light glowing.
Hell and damnation, he thought, what was he up against here? Who could be after Amelia? Who might unleash this much activity, this fast? And how could they get out of town without being followed and stopped? No way his Glock would be enough against the firepower he could see waiting in all those gun racks.
He saw a pair of hunters enter the place he’d left Amelia. He should never have left her. These guys were hunting. He followed, trying not to look like he was in a hurry. Inside, it took a minute for his eyes to adjust to the light. His two guys were heading for the corner where he’d left Amelia, then they veered off and he could see the older couple sitting there, reading the menu.
She was gone.
He grabbed their waitress as she passed. “Did you see where my friend went?”
“She left not long after you did.”
“Alone?” The waitress, her face puzzled and impatient, nodded. “Which direction did she go?”
“Sorry.” She pulled away.
Luke went outside, looked one direction, then the other, feeling frustration spike in his gut. What was she thinking—
“Luke?”
It was Amelia’s voice, but when he looked at her, she didn’t look like the Amelia he’d left. Her hair was short, almost boy short and clinging to her head in fluffy little curls. The difference was amazing. Without the hair, the clean, classy shape of her bones was visible. She must have found some make-up, because her scratches were pale shadows under her skin. Her eyes were bigger and more purple. And her mouth was red and moist and slightly parted—
He gave himself a shake. This was not the time to lose his focus.
“Where you been?” he stopped. It was obvious where she’d been. Having her hair cut. He noticed the bags she was trying, but failing, to hide behind her back. “Shopping? You just went…shopping?”
Her smile was a delight and full of mischief. “And I enjoyed it. I was quite shocked at myself.”
He swallowed a couple of times. “I thought you didn’t have any money?”
“I sold my hair. They gave me a hundred dollars and didn’t charge me for the hair cut or the make-over. I told them I’d wiped out skiing. I was going to look for you, but—”
“You went shopping.”
“Your sister-in-law’s jeans were so short…”
Now that he looked, he could see she her jeans now reached all the way to her borrowed boots. And they had some kind of embroidery on the hem. They fit her like a glove. A very affectionate glove.
“I didn’t think I needed the snow pants anymore. I didn’t lose them. They’re all in the bag.” She held it up. It bulged like a pregnant woman. Obviously, she’d bought more than pants.
Dani, he remembered, had shopped while being hunted by a hit man. And, she’d gone dancing. “I’ll never understand women,” he said. “Never.”
Her smile almost made him not care.
“That’s the way it’s supposed to be.” She looked around. “So, did you find us some wheels?”
He saw one of the sets of hunters driving their direction and took her arm, turning her away from them. “Let’s walk and talk.”
“Is there a problem?” Amelia pulled her ski cap back on, covering her shorn locks.
“Maybe. Not sure.” He told her what he’d observed as they stopped in front of an antique shop, and he pointed at something in the window.
“What are we going to do?” She didn’t look at him, but he could see the two worry lines appear between her arched brows.
“There’s a bus that comes through. Runs all the way to Denver.”
“Where do we get tickets?”
“Over there.” He gestured over his shoulder as he continued to point at different things in the window. Amelia looked casually in that direction and saw, right in front of the gun shop with the bus station logo in the window, a pair of hunters.
* * * *
Because he had no description of who Prudence Knight was traveling with, Larry had focused on the woman. Her photo wasn’t a lot of use, so he reminded them that she was scratched and bruised from a fall. She had long, blonde hair and would probably squint a bit, since she’d lost her glasses in the fall through the tree. She was traveling with someone else, so look for people in pairs. He figured that was good enough to turn her up, once they emerged from the woods.
They’d seen where they went into the woods, of course, but had been unable to find any other signs of them. Too many miles to cover and only one chopper to do it with. It had seemed wise to abandon the air search and focus all their attention on places where the pair could get transportation. At least until Grady got them an ID on the truck and possibly a picture of the owner.
He couldn’t fault the support Grady had sent him. It was an education and, if he were truthful, a bit troubling. He’d had no idea Grady had this level of support at his fingertips. It was damn near an army.
At first he’d thought about heading into Estes Park. It was closer than Boulder and would have a hospital and more transport options than most of the smaller towns, but it was away from Denver, and Grady said that’s where they would head. They could still be on skis, of course, maybe still heading cross country, but they’d have to take them off eventually, and he was pretty sure they had them boxed in. How could they not?
He noticed a couple looking into an antique shop across from the bus stop. It was pretty cold to be window shopping. Maybe he’d just check them out…
He turned in behind them. If they were expecting trouble or the girl had gotten a look at his face, the situation could get hot fast. On the other hand, he didn’t want to pull out the guns on a town street. Just wanted to ID them, then follow them and take them somewhere quieter. He pulled out a map and studied it, like he might be lost. Then he rolled down the window.
“Excuse me.” The couple didn’t move. He opened his truck and hopped out, approaching them from behind and forcing them to turn. The woman was still partly in shadow from the overhang, but as soon as he got closer, he could tell she wasn’t his gal. Even in the shade, her short blonde hair poked out from under the edges of her ski cap. And no sign of bump or bruise on her model-perfect face, and no squint. Prudence Knight had been a real geek with pulled back hair. Couldn’t stop now, though. He held out the map. “I seem to have taken a wrong turn somewhere. Can you tell me how to get to Allenspark?”
The guy, his air of authority enough to jump Larry’s heart, took the map from him and spread it out on the hood of his truck. His mind raced as he pretended to follow the man’s directions. Where could they be? And why had he chosen a co
p to ask directions from? He’d remember his face, and he was sure, from the piercing look he got in return, that the guy would remember him.
“Thanks. Don’t know where I went wrong.” He took the map and looked at the girl. “Anything interesting there? My wife likes antiques, and she’s got a birthday coming up.”
“Slim pickings here, I’m afraid,” the girl said, with a slight, lovely smile. “Ready, honey?” she said to the man, then to him, “My husband is going to buy me my very own hand gun. I know a Glock isn’t usually considered a lady’s gun. What do you think?”
Larry didn’t know what to think. He backed away. “A Glock’s very nice. As are others…well, thanks.” He climbed into the truck and watched the pair cross the street and enter the gun and tackle shop. Maybe someone at the local eating places had seen a woman with a scratched face.
* * * *
Inside the gun and tackle shop, Amelia looked at Luke. “Do you think he was one of them?”
Luke frowned. “I don’t know. He made sure he saw your face. Good idea to cover up the scratches and cut your hair. If he was after you, he didn’t recognize you.” His frown deepened, but he didn’t share what was worrying him with her. “Let’s get those tickets.”
Tickets to Denver in hand, they supported their cover story by looking over the stock. Amelia picked up a hunting rifle, surprised to find it felt…familiar. She lifted it, the butt against her shoulder and looked down the sight. The fog opened for a flash, giving her a glimpse of something…or was it someone? A bullet piercing a dark silhouette.
Who am I? What am I?
She lowered the gun so fast, it clattered against the counter.
“Are you all right?” Luke asked, his voice distant and hollow. He wavered in front of her eyes, then steadied.
She took a shaky breath. “Just felt dizzy for a minute.”
His hand gripped her arm. “Maybe you should sit down. I should have taken you to the hospital—”
“No. I’m fine. Really.” Her vision had cleared. Fear did that, it seemed. “Look, our bus is here.”
It blocked their view of the street but also gave them some cover as they boarded. Luke directed her to rear of the bus, where they kept low until they were clear of town. In a few minutes, they were on the highway, with no signs of pursuit.
Luke relaxed. At least for now they were safe, though Amelia’s color still worried him. Adrenaline had sustained them both this far. To his relief, the movement of the bus had her head nodding. In a few minutes her head drooped, then slid onto Luke’s shoulder, her head tilted back so that all he had to do was turn his head a millimeter to have her full, pouting lips in easy striking distance. What was happening to him? He’d spent less than twenty-four hours with her and he was already wondering how to keep her. There was so much he didn’t know about her, but his heart didn’t seem to care. It felt right to have her next to him, her body supported by his as the miles slipped past.
He felt sleep tugging at his eyes, but he still hadn’t decided what to do once they reached Denver. It would be easy to call one of his brothers, but what if their pursuers had made him? If they were as organized as they appeared to be, they’d be running the plates on his truck and may have his name. That meant anyone with the name Kirby could put Amelia and his family at risk. For now, he had to avoid the family.
He felt alone, isolated, cut off, even if it was his own choice. On the upside, this meant he wouldn’t have to explain Amelia. He wasn’t ready to share her with his brothers yet, remembering Matt’s reaction to Phoebe a year ago. His middle brother didn’t like women with mysterious pasts. Besides, he wasn’t ready to have to answer their questions when he had no answers for them. He’d find out who and what Amelia was, then he’d be ready for introductions. Maybe.
Bryn would help him, he knew, but he couldn’t see her and Amelia together. Kind of like pairing a kitten with a wolf. Though Amelia was tougher than she looked. Besides, Bryn would ask a lot of questions. He’d never met anyone so unrelentingly suspicious.
He hated to admit it, but Dewey seemed like his best option. There was no obvious connection between them, and he wouldn’t be leaving Amelia alone while he checked out her apartment. He eased his cell phone out of his pocket and made the call. Dewey sounded surprised but amused. Typical.
At some point, Luke fell asleep, too. He woke to find his arms wrapped around Amelia, his face buried in her silky, provocatively short hair and his lungs inhaling her scent. He’d gone up the mountain to deal with his past, to let go of Rosemary, not for this. Rosemary wouldn’t grudge him happiness. That wasn’t the kind of person she was. It’s just, well, if Amelia had only been older, it wouldn’t seem like such a betrayal.
What could he possibly have in common with someone so young besides the physical? He’d had true companionship with Rosemary, the kind with shared interests and shared memories. He couldn’t settle for less than that in his life or in his bed, no matter how attractive the package. All he was really sharing with Amelia was a mutual sense of danger. He was feeling protective. Easy to mistake it for warmer feelings. It wouldn’t be the first time a victim had mistaken gratitude for…whatever, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. Once Amelia was restored to her life, her memories, she’d be embarrassed by that spontaneous and amazing kiss. She’d return to her life and he’d go back to his.
One thing he was sure about, his heart wouldn’t be busted again. He’d lost Rosemary and almost hadn’t gotten over it. No way he’d fall headlong into a situation that painful, not when there was no chance of a happy ending.
Amelia stirred in his arms, murmuring and his heart jumped in his chest, reminding him that hearts didn’t always act in their own best interests. A wise man would put distance between them as soon as possible.
He sighed, as his arms tightened around Amelia.
No one he knew would call him a wise man.
NINE
A cop. Grady couldn’t believe it. She dives out of the chopper on a freaking mountainside and lands in the lap of a cop? It was over. No way they’d get their hands on her now.
Except…
Why hadn’t Kincaid known she was safe? He hadn’t sounded like a man trying to set a trap. He’d sounded frantic. Grady knew how to read voices, to read the nuances, body language and eyes. He could smell intentions, feel motives. Home in on weaknesses like a smart bomb on a target. Something wasn’t tracking right. But what?
Faint heart never won fair lady.
It didn’t exactly fit. Prudence Knight wasn’t fair, and his heart was careful, not faint. He pushed back his chair and walked over to the window. The sky had cleared, leaving behind a view that was postcard perfect. If snow and mountains were your thing.
They weren’t his. He wanted sun. He wanted heat—the sultry, rich kind of heat where he could buy himself a new future and erase his past. A place where he could avoid people like Leslie if he wanted to.
Leslie. Had he heard he’d made his first kill? He hadn’t called to whine—or gloat—yet. Grady had a feeling Leslie would like it. A destructive rage lurked beneath his sunny, idiot-son surface, but Grady’d bet it wouldn’t stay down for long, now that Leslie had taken first blood. He might need to remove Leslie from the picture sooner than planned. Some monsters, unleashed, raged out of control. Leslie was weak and impractical. Everything he did was driven by emotion—mostly rage and jealousy for those in control.
How long would it take for Leslie to turn on him? When would it occur to him that Grady controlled him as much, or more, than his father? Yes, it was time to eliminate Leslie from the board. A pawn who thought he was king was too dangerous to have around.
Which did nothing to help him figure out where Prudence Knight was or what Luke Kirby planned to do with his catch of the day.
Maybe he should toss in a line and see what he could pull out?
He dialed Kincaid again. He answered on the first ring. Even in the single, tersely snapped, “Kincaid,” Grady could hear that the
fear in his voice had built, not lessened. So he didn’t know. He hung up without comment. Now was not the time to deal with Kincaid, not without the girl in hand.
Which left him with the multi-million dollar question. Why hadn’t Kirby phoned home? Since he couldn’t answer it, he’d do what he could to make sure he couldn’t get home with the prize.
He knew they’d skied out of the mountains, so Kirby was innovative and willing to switch gears when necessary. He looked at the picture his contact in the police department had faxed to him. Strong, determined, stubborn. A worthy opponent. He stared at the map. What would I do if I were in the hop and not sure what was happening or who my enemy was?
For sure he’d trade in the skis as soon as possible. But they hadn’t rented a car. No contact with any of the police or sheriff departments between the cabin and Denver. They had the bus stations covered, too.
Where are you? And how do we smoke you out? He frowned, then reached for the phone again. A few calls and some judicious faxing. Had any of his army seen this man?
The wait wasn’t long before the phone rang. It was Larry.
“I saw this guy, but the woman he was with didn’t look nothing like Knight. And not a scratch on her.” He sounded frustrated and aggrieved. “I think they got on the bus.”
Bingo. In a few minutes, he had his army moving in on Denver like locusts bearing down on a field of grain.
* * * *
“Okay,” Luke turned from the bus window and looked at Amelia, who was reapplying the make-up that covered her bruises. “We got a spot of trouble. The dogs seem to have beaten us to town.”
Maybe he was paranoid and maybe he wasn’t. But there were too many guys hanging around, looking like they weren’t looking for someone. And one of them was the guy who’d approached them on the street just before they’d boarded the bus. He seemed to think he was being very discreet behind that newspaper. The guy would recognize him for sure and may already know he belonged to his truck abandoned at the cabin. He frowned, his mind racing. How to get Amelia safely to Dewey, who he hoped was out there waiting.
The Lonesome Lawmen Trilogy Page 71