by Diane Hester
Chase pulled a platter from under the counter and set it on a tray. ‘I did but that’s not what took me so long. I stopped at the office on my way home and got hung up – there was an accident at one of the logging sites.’
‘Anybody seriously hurt?’
‘Had to send a couple cases to PI. They were pretty banged up but they’ll recover. It could’ve been worse.’
‘That’s good anyway.’ Allen sat eyeing the massive platter his son was arranging. ‘That all for you or are you hiding someone up in your bedroom?’
Chase let out a laugh. ‘Guess I’m pretty hungry. I missed lunch.’ He opened the fridge and pulled out a container of apple juice.
‘Well, the group’s just having coffee and nibbles.’ Allen nodded towards the living room. ‘Why don’t you come in and join us?’
‘Thanks, but I’ve already made this.’
‘Bring it in and eat it with us. Then have dessert. Between six women they made enough to feed an army.’
‘I’ll be fine with this. Thanks anyway.’
Allen wheeled closer and lowered his voice. ‘Actually you’d be doing me a favour. It’s getting a bit tense in there.’
Chase set three glasses on the tray and began pouring juice. ‘What could be tense about a book club? I thought you said it was just six women.’
‘Just? Are you kidding? They’re all trying to out-do each other with the food. They’re hovering around me like . . . like they expect me to sample it all and then pick the winner. I feel like first prize at a bake-off competition.’
‘That’s what you get for being the only eligible male over fifty in a small town.’
‘So what do you say? You going to help your old man out, or what?’
‘Sorry, Dad, I’ve got a few things to do upstairs.’
Allen slumped back with a hearty sigh, his gaze falling on the three glasses of juice. Arching a brow he regarded his son. ‘Thirsty as well as hungry, eh?’
Chase pursed his lips around another smile, picked up the tray and stepped around him. ‘Good luck with your lady guests.’ He headed for the stairs.
Chapter 55
Shyler sat in the upstairs window seat, rifle resting across her lap. She would have preferred a view of the road, but at least she could see the back yard from here – lawn bathed in moonlight surrounded by trees, garage, porch, a bit of the driveway. She’d spot it if anyone slipped from the woods and tried to break in through the kitchen. She only hoped the activity downstairs – the club meeting that, according to Chase, was going on far longer than usual – would be enough to deter someone coming in the front.
She eyed Jesse asleep in the bed. The most recent addition to her list of concerns was her son’s increasingly belligerent behaviour. After finishing his bath, he’d returned to the room and climbed into bed, refusing any help from her. And when Chase had brought up the tray of sandwiches he wouldn’t let the doctor take his temperature or even look at him.
His use of bad language didn’t bother her. The fact that it was so out of character did. Was his behaviour simply a delayed reaction to all they’d been through? Or was it the fever? It had started so suddenly. Did it mean his infection was getting worse?
Out in the hall the floorboards creaked. Her body tensed, then relaxed again when a familiar figure appeared in the doorway – Chase, in a red flannel shirt and jeans, his hair still wet from a recent shower.
She sat a moment just taking him in. She’d only ever seen him in white before – the medical coat he wore at his office, the sweater he’d had on all that day. Somehow the red shirt made his eyes bluer, the plaid adding sharpness and breadth to his shoulders. Combined with the jeans’ stone-washed denim, the effect was more rugged outdoorsman than doctor.
‘May I come in?’
She shrugged. ‘Your house.’
‘True, but you’re the one holding the rifle.’
Another time she might have smiled. She wanted to smile, wanted to get to know this man. This man she could almost come to trust. But with the risks so great she couldn’t let herself. ‘Therefore a wise person wouldn’t provoke me.’
He gave a soft chuckle. ‘I promise to be on my best behaviour.’
Silently he crossed to the bed and sat on the desk chair he’d brought in earlier. So gently he didn’t disturb Jesse’s sleep, he inserted a thermometer into his ear.
Shyler waited. Jesse had had more medicine with dinner, his second dose since leaving the cabin. His temperature then – two hours ago – had been a hundred and two. One degree higher than when they’d first reached Chase’s office. Was it too soon to hope there had been a change? Had she been wrong? Should she have let him be taken to the hospital?
Chase removed the thermometer and read it. Though she scrutinised his face, she couldn’t read his thoughts. She forced herself to stay where she was till he picked up the chair and brought it over to sit before her.
‘No change,’ he whispered.
She bit her lip.
‘It’s too soon to expect one, really, so don’t lose hope. As long as his temp doesn’t go any higher there’s still a chance the medicine’s working. We should have a better idea in the morning.’
She nodded. If they survived till then.
At the thought, a wave of dread crashed over her. She slumped under the weight, exhausted to the point of feeling physically ill. Even if they made it through the night, what then? Where would they go? When would it end?
‘Why don’t you get some sleep?’ Chase said. ‘The bed’s all made up across the hall. I’ll stay with Jesse.’
She drew herself up. ‘I’m fine right here.’
‘How did I know you were going to say that?’ He opened the black case he held on his lap. ‘Well, as long as you’re staying, how about you put the rifle down and let me take a look at that arm?’
‘Don’t worry about it.’ She turned away, stared out the window.
‘At least let me change the dressing. You won’t be much good to Jesse if you end up with an infection as well.’
Shyler focused on the lawn below, keeping her injured limb tucked to her side. When she felt Chase’s hand settle over hers she glanced back around.
For a moment she found herself held by his gaze, his eyes both kind and gently coaxing. She must have communicated something in return without even realising it, for with no further comment he drew her arm towards him and began unwrapping it.
She gave up the fight. He was right – she couldn’t allow herself to get sick. Not while Jesse was still in danger.
He swabbed the area and inspected the wound. ‘Well, the good news is you didn’t tear out any stitches. What you’ve got is a fresh laceration. A simple bandage is all it needs.’ He got out the tape and a pair of scissors then opened a packet of sterile dressing.
He squeezed antiseptic cream on his finger and began spreading it over the cut. ‘You know, it would’ve been a lot less painful if you’d just brought Jesse in to see me.’ His gaze lifted briefly, confirming he’d figured out why she had cut herself.
There seemed little point in denying it now. ‘I couldn’t.’
‘Why not?’
‘You went to my cabin and you have to ask that?’
‘So you thought I was one of the men trying to kill you?’
‘Well no, I . . . I . . .’
He held up a hand. ‘It’s all right, I understand. Trust must be hard to come by in your situation. Whatever it is.’
Frowning, she leaned back; vaguely disturbed, yet not sure why.
‘So you know who they are.’
She blinked at him. ‘What?’
‘The men who came after you. Out at your cabin.’
A chill shivered along her neck as she recalled the man peering up at her from the ladder of the loft. No, she hadn’t recognised him but . . . Suddenly there were other faces. Scarred and battered. Savage and leering. Fish Hook. Puppet. Scarecrow. Beret.
‘How long have they been after you, Shyler?’
>
She tried to remember. Forever, it seemed. ‘I . . .’
‘Is that why you lied to me about where you lived? Why you gave me a false address?’
Her frown deepened. That at least seemed something she should know. And yet – ‘I’m . . . not sure . . .’
‘But you know what they want. You know what they’re after.’
She darted an anxious look towards the bed.
‘Jesse? Is that it? Why, Shyler? Why do they want him?’
She closed her eyes. When she tried to think of the answers to his questions she felt almost dizzy. As though the reasons were spinning around her so fast she couldn’t latch on to them. They were images out of focus, garbled words that didn’t make sense.
‘Does Jesse have something they want?’ he persisted.
She swallowed against a wave of nausea. The spinning was getting worse by the second.
‘There must be a reason. He must have seen or heard something that –’
‘Does it matter?’ The words came out louder than she’d intended, but they had the desired effect. The questions stopped. The spinning slowed enough that she could open her eyes again.
Only then did she notice how tightly she was clutching his hand. How close he had moved. How his arm had come up behind her back, spreading warmth across her shoulders.
She let her gaze lift to his chest. What would it hurt to collapse against him? To feel his strength and protection envelope her? To trust once again in another human being?
He dipped his head. Their breath mingled. ‘Shyler.’ The word a caress on her cheek. What would it hurt . . .
She let go of his hand and pulled away, taking up the cold hard steel of the rifle. She knew all too well who it could hurt.
Beside her she felt him draw away, pack up his things and rise from the chair.
From the bed behind them, lost in shadow, Zack tracked the man as he left the room.
Vanessa slid her hands beneath her armpits. The car was freezing. Mainly because Tragg insisted on keeping his window open so the windshield wouldn’t mist up. From the top of the rise at a bend in the road they had a clear view of the doctor’s house and had been watching it for the last four hours.
The prolonged surveillance had left her not only shivering with cold but also absolutely ravenous. ‘We should go to the place Nolan and I stayed at. The cabin we rented.’
From the box in his hand, Tragg shook a Junior Mint into his mouth. ‘Why?’
‘Because if Nolan didn’t check out when he left with Farrell we can still use it. We can get some sleep, start fresh in the morning.’ She lowered her voice. ‘Maybe even grab a cup of coffee.’
‘Not a priority.’
She stifled a sigh. Of course it wasn’t a priority for him, he’d just put away a mixed cold meat sub, a bag of chips and a can of Coke – extra provisions she hadn’t thought to buy from the last gas station they’d stopped at on the drive up here. Tragg hadn’t offered to share his meal and she hadn’t asked. She knew how much he’d have gotten off on seeing her beg and then refusing her.
She tried a different tack. ‘There’s a chance Nolan might have left me a message there. Maybe something to do with the kids. The poor sap was probably still expecting me to come back for him.’
Tragg kept staring out at the house. ‘I’m pretty sure he told me everything he knew.’
Vanessa winced, recalling Nolan’s screams. ‘I haven’t eaten since this morning,’ she blurted.
Tragg turned slowly. Meeting her gaze with dark flat eyes, he held out the box. ‘Have a mint.’
She swallowed hard and shook her head.
As she turned away she realised she was no longer hungry. Even after fifteen hours without food, one look from Tragg could destroy any appetite.
Chapter 56
Even when the thermometer slid into his ear, Zack didn’t move. He’d heard the doctor enter the room and murmur a soft ‘good morning’ to Shyler. He’d heard the floorboards creak near his bed, sensed their shadows sliding over him and then a hand brushing his hair aside.
All the while he’d kept very still, eyes closed, breathing steady. He wanted the doctor to think he was asleep, wanted to hear what he said to Shyler when he thought her little boy wasn’t listening.
The thermometer gently slid from his ear. The doc probably thought he was being real smart, sneaking around, taking his temperature when he wasn’t aware. But Zack knew all right. And he’d go on pretending to be asleep because he was doing some sneaking of his own.
‘Still no change – a hundred and two.’ The doctor’s voice was a whisper above him.
He opened his eyes a crack. The two of them were standing over him, Chase in a navy blue terry-cloth robe. Light from the bedside lamp frosted Shyler’s hair but did little for the shadows beneath her eyes or the worry lines that creased her brow. He would have liked to comfort her, to tell her not to worry about him. But of course the doctor was doing it for him.
‘It doesn’t mean he’s not getting better. We’ll just have to wait a little while longer before it shows.’
Zack watched them closely. He knew the doctor had a thing for Shyler. He could tell just from the way he looked at her. What he hadn’t worked out yet was whether Shyler knew it or not. And, if she did, how she felt about it.
Back at the office when she’d held the gun on him it had seemed pretty certain she didn’t like him. But things had changed a bit since then. Now she seemed to be listening to him, trusting him more. And last night when he’d actually touched her . . .
Beneath the blanket he clenched his fists. At the time he hadn’t been able to figure out why he’d become so angry at seeing them like that. But after the doctor had left and his anger slowly died away he’d found another feeling hiding beneath it. A secret feeling that had made it hard for him to breathe.
Fear.
Not the kind he felt for Tragg. No, this was different. More like the feeling he got from his nightmare. Only ten times worse.
He squinted at the woman standing over him. In the beginning he’d thought, ‘Well, she isn’t much, but she’s all I’ve got.’ Now that too had changed. He didn’t even care any more whether or not she protected him from Tragg. In three years of being passed from one foster home to another he’d never found anyone as brave and smart and wonderful as her. And he wasn’t going to let some stupid doctor come along and take her away from him!
‘When he wakes up, make sure you get plenty of fluids into him,’ the man was telling her. ‘I’ll bring up some juice and breakfast before I go.’
Her head snapped towards him. ‘Go? Go where?’
He consulted the clock on the bedside table. ‘I’ve got to be at work in a couple of hours.’
‘You aren’t serious.’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll come back at lunch and check on him then.’
‘That’s not what I meant.’ Her voice had risen above a whisper.
‘You’re not still worried I’ll call the police, are you? I could’ve done that any time last night.’
‘Call your office and tell them you’re sick.’
‘And if there’s an emergency they’ll come here to find me. Is that what you want?’
Zack opened his eyes a bit further. They weren’t paying any attention to him now.
‘Then tell them you have to leave town for a while.’
He blew out a breath. ‘Shyler, think about it from my perspective. The minute I walk out the door it means my father’s here alone with you. I’m not going to do anything to endanger him.’
‘Endanger.’ She took a step back. ‘You think I would hurt him?’
‘What I’m saying is, if I called the police and they showed up here –’
‘I might use your father as a hostage, is that it? I would never –’
‘It doesn’t matter if you would or not, that’s how the police would see it. And that, apart from the promise I’ve already given you, is why you can be sure I’m not going to call them. B
ecause I do not want to create that situation.’
Shyler stood, considering his words. Slowly the tension eased from her stance, her breathing slowed. ‘All right, go. Just so long as you’re back by lunch.’
‘I give you my word.’
The man kept staring as though he wanted to say more. Or, worse, do more. Zack smiled at his disappointment when Shyler turned away, crossed to the window and resumed her post staring down at the lawn.
His smile broadened when the doctor sighed and walked from the room.
Chapter 57
Two hours later, showered and dressed for work, Chase carried a breakfast tray up to the guest room and stopped in the doorway.
Shyler sat slumped in the window seat, rifle resting across her lap. Dozing at last. She certainly needed it. From what he’d seen she hadn’t closed her eyes all night. Jesse, on the other hand, was now wide awake. Chase crossed the room and set the tray on the bedside table.
‘Morning,’ he whispered, pulling up the chair. ‘How are you feeling?’
Jesse glared up at him, his expression more hate-filled than distrusting. The intensity of it set him back. What had he done to alienate the boy?
‘You’re looking better, not as flushed. I wouldn’t be surprised if your temperature’s down.’ He held up the thermometer. ‘Should we check and see?’
Jesse yanked the blankets over his head and rolled away to face the wall.
‘I don’t seem to be very popular this morning.’ He set the thermometer back on the table. ‘Well, your breakfast is here when you get hungry. Toast, fruit, cereal, juice, some donuts for later and coffee for your mom. You won’t forget to take your pill, will you?’
He waited for an answer but the boy didn’t stir.
‘Well, I’ll head off then. I’ll be back to check on you both around lunch time.’
‘She doesn’t like you.’
Halfway out of his chair, Chase stopped. ‘Who? Your mom?’ He sat down again. So that’s what this was all about. ‘How can you tell?’