by Robin Perini
“Not to mention the agency.”
“They weren’t as tough as my father.”
A small grin tugged at the edge of Garrett’s mouth. “So true. I’m going to check out the ranch house. If I’m not back in one hour, I want you to leave.” He handed her the keys and a slip of paper. “Contact Daniel Adams. He’s the only other person I know who can get you the kind of help you need.”
She pocketed the number and clutched the butt of the SIG.
“I’ll be back,” he said, opening the door.
“Be careful.”
He tipped the brim of his Stetson before closing the door softly.
His catlike moves revealed more training than Laurel had. He disappeared around a pile of rocks. She caught a glimpse of his hat for a moment, but within minutes he’d vanished.
She clutched the keys in her hand. She had a full tank of gas, Molly in the backseat. She could run, just disappear.
Forget the past?
The fiery inferno of her sister’s car burned the backs of her eyelids. Where was the justice in disappearing?
Her sister never would have let it go. Laurel dug into her pocket and pulled out the prepaid cell. No signal. If anything did happen, how would she find help? Her father wouldn’t appreciate it if she put Fiona at risk.
Who could Laurel ask?
There was a reason she’d traveled all the way across the country. She had no choice but to trust Garrett. Him and his secrets.
Her father had called Ivy the judge and jury and Laurel a lie detector. Perhaps it was true. If she had enough information, Laurel could usually figure out the truth. It was what made her good at her job.
As long as the information was solid.
And with Garrett, she had nothing.
Laurel wrapped her arms around her knees, the gun heavy in her hand, comforting in its power. The chill of the winter air outside seeped into the car. She tugged the blanket closer and glanced at the clock. Thirty minutes. And he wasn’t back.
A gust hit the tree, scraping the side of the truck. She tensed, gripping the butt of her SIG even tighter.
Forty-five minutes.
Laurel eyed the keys she’d placed on the dash. Fifteen minutes left.
A loud yawn sounded from the backseat. “Where are we?” Molly sat up. “Cars aren’t for sleeping.” She looked outside, and her eyes widened. “We’re in the woods.”
Laurel twisted in her seat and faced her niece with a forced smile on her face. “Like the three bears.”
Molly gave her aunt a skeptical, you-can’t-be-serious expression.
“Look!” Molly squealed, pointing out the window.
Laurel brought the gun to the ready and aimed at the window.
Garrett paused in his tracks and raised his hands with an arched brow.
Molly giggled. “Sheriff Garrett is a good guy. You can’t shoot him.”
Laurel dropped the weapon and stuffed it into her jacket.
With a forced smile on his face, he opened the back door. “And how is Sleeping Beauty this morning?”
“Hungry,” Molly said, rubbing her eyes.
“I think we can take care of that. But first we’re going for a little walk.” Garrett met Laurel’s gaze and gave her a slight nod. “All clear.”
She slipped out of the seat and headed to the back of the truck.
“Don’t carry too much,” Garrett said. “The terrain is rocky. I’ll come back for the rest later.” He turned to Molly. “Want to wear my hat?” he asked, holding it out to the small child.
Molly gazed up at him, her blue eyes huge. She nodded and Garrett tipped the hat on her head. It fell over Molly’s eyes and she giggled. “It’s too big.”
“Are you saying I have a big head, young lady?” Garrett asked with a smile, his eyes twinkling.
Molly’s grin widened and for the first time in days she lost that haunted look in her eyes. “Bigger than mine,” she said. “You’re funny. I like you, Sheriff Garrett.”
“I like you, too, sugar.”
The endearment made Molly smile again, but a swallow caught in Laurel’s throat, because the normalcy wouldn’t last. It couldn’t.
Garrett led them through the jagged mountains, so unlike the woods in Virginia. Craggy rocks, the evergreen of piñon trees, lower to the ground, searching for water. Dry and harsh. Laurel stumbled and fell against a rock, scraping her hand.
Garrett was right beside her in an instant, helping her to her feet, his arm firm around her waist. His touch lingered for a moment, as did the concern in his brown eyes. “You okay? It’s not much farther.”
Molly stood, holding her lion against her chest. The little scamp hopped from one rock to the next.
“Fine,” Laurel said, but her belly had started to ache. It always did when the nerves were uncontrollable. Every moment buried the truth further. They were truly out in the middle of nowhere. Without communication, without anyone but Garrett. How long could it last? How long would they be here?
How could they help her father from here? Much less themselves?
The questions whirled through her mind until a small stone-and-wood structure jutted from an incline.
The ranch house, with a porch surrounding it, wasn’t large. Off to the side a small corral appeared more abandoned than anything. She couldn’t see any sign of livestock.
“Here we are,” he said, climbing up the steps and opening the door. He opened a panel and entered a code. Laurel raised an eyebrow.
“Sensors around the perimeter.”
She nodded just as Molly raced in. The little girl’s vibrating energy circled the room. She ran from the couch to a nightstand, finally bending down to poke at the fireplace screen. Rocks climbed ceiling to floor, the structure dominating the small living room.
Garrett set a bag in the simple kitchen on one wall.
“Put your things in here.” He pushed into a small room with a double bed, chest of drawers and nightstand. No photos, no pictures on the wall. Plain, simple and utilitarian.
“The bathroom is through there,” he added. “Just a shower and toilet.”
“Is this your bed?” Laurel set down her duffel. “It’s fine, but where will you sleep?”
Garrett hesitated. He glanced down at Molly. “Which side of the bed do you want, sugar?”
Molly grinned. “I’m gonna sleep in that big bed?” She ran over and bounced on the side. “When my brother and sister get here, all three of us can fit.”
Laurel averted her gaze from Molly, landing on Garrett. A glimmer of sympathy laced his expression.
“I’m going to show your aunt Laurel something. Okay?”
Molly nodded, hugged her lion and started a conversation with the beast.
Laurel took one last look at Molly and followed Garrett into the great room. “I don’t know how to explain it to her.”
He rubbed the stubble on his chin. “It won’t be easy, but she has you. Molly will be okay, eventually. There’s going to be a fall when she recognizes that her family is gone. Believe me, I know.”
Laurel stilled and took in Garrett’s features. Strain lined his eyes and a darkness had settled over his face. She reached out her hand and touched his arm. “I can see that.”
He looked down at her hand touching him. “I’ll show you my setup here. You may need it.”
A step away had her clutching at air. He’d fled her touch. She didn’t know why she’d reached out to him, but something in his expression called to her, made her want to comfort him, even as her own heart was breaking.
He unlocked the door leading into the second room in the cabin. She gasped. High-tech equipment she recognized from her job at the CIA lined two walls. Monitoring equipment—a secure phone and a very top secret computer system. A world map hung on one wall. Several pegs dotted some of the more sensitive countries. Below the map, a cot with a pillow and a rumpled blanket seemed to speak volumes.
The bedroom he’d given to her and Molly wasn’t where he slept. When he visited th
is ranch house, he slept here.
“And I was worried I didn’t have cell service,” she said. “You could contact anyone anywhere in the world from here.”
“Hand me your phone,” Garrett said.
“It’s powered off.” She handed it to him.
“Good. They shouldn’t be able to trace it to you since it’s prepaid, but we can’t afford to take chances. It still pings a cell tower.” He removed the battery and GPS chip. “Pop in the battery if you have to use it,” he said, tossing the GPS in the trash.
“You could track my father with this equipment,” Laurel said, moving into the room.
“Maybe.” Garrett sat down in one of the chairs and nodded his head at Laurel to take the other seat. “You have to understand, I promised James I’d stay out of the investigation. I have. For his sake.”
“But—”
Garrett raised his hand to interrupt her argument. “I get it. Things have changed. We’re taking a huge risk, though. I could make his situation worse. You have to understand that, Laurel.”
How much worse could it get?
Laurel couldn’t sit still. She paced back and forth. Her father could already be dead. But if he wasn’t, what if this decision caused him to lose his life? Her mind whirled with confusion. The analytical part of her brain didn’t like the missing data.
She lifted her gaze to him before taking her seat again. “If your father were missing, what would you do?”
“If my father were still alive, I’d do whatever it took to find him.”
“And live with the consequences?”
“In this situation, yes. The alternative is worse,” Garrett said. “Your father has made a lot of enemies over the years, but more than that, if we don’t discover who is behind your sister’s murder, you and Molly will never be safe. Those men will never stop coming after you.”
“Oh, a big kitty! Come here, kitty, kitty.” Molly’s voice rang out from outside the cabin.
Laurel jumped to her feet at the same time as Garrett. “What kind of cats—?”
“Not domestic.”
Chapter Four
Garrett pulled the Beretta from its holster and slammed through the front door of the ranch house. Laurel’s footsteps thundered behind him.
“Oh, God,” she whispered.
Molly stood about ten feet from the porch, across a clearing. Her hand reached out toward a large cougar, its long, thick tail swinging to and fro.
“Good kitty,” Molly sang out, stepping forward.
The cat crouched, hissing.
“Molly,” Garrett said, his tone firm with what his daughter had called his mean voice.
The little girl froze. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”
He guessed the mean voice still worked, but the memory also returned that horrible helplessness that he never experienced when facing his own death—or even the death of another agent.
Only a child’s death could evoke the fear that seeped through his very soul.
Without hesitation, Garrett aimed his weapon at the animal, cursing inside for the animal to stop moving. As it was, it was going to be an impossible shot.
“Molly.” Garrett forced his voice to remain calm. “That’s not a kitty cat. I need you to stay very, very still, sugar. Don’t move. I’m going to shoot a gun.”
“Too loud,” Molly whimpered, shaking her head back and forth, clasping her ears with her hands and squatting down.
Damn it. She’d made herself a target. The cat hunched down on its front paws, clearly preparing to pounce. Garrett couldn’t wait. What he wouldn’t give for his father’s old Remington. He could take out the animal with one shot. A rifle was so much more accurate than a handgun at this distance.
The cat growled, opening its mouth in a show of aggression.
Molly squealed and tumbled backward, becoming a perfect target for the predator.
Garrett ran at Molly, shouting. He had to get closer. Startled, the animal shifted its focus, turning away from Molly. Garrett took four shots at the mountain lion. The big cat yowled once and bounded away, disappearing into the cover of the trees. He’d aimed the shots wide on purpose. Injuring the animal could have done more harm than good, especially if he hadn’t been able to take it down. A wounded cat could tear out Molly’s throat in seconds.
He’d played the odds.
Thankfully, the animal hadn’t gone against its nature. Garrett kept his weapon on hold, searching beyond the shrubs and piñons for the cougar. Cats were normally reclusive, avoiding humans, but they were curious as well.
“Get her,” he called to Laurel.
Behind him, she scooped Molly into her arms. The little girl sobbed. Laurel hugged her niece close. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”
Garrett backed toward them, scanning the perimeter, but there was no movement beyond the tree line. He kept the Beretta in his hand and headed to the house.
“I—I want my mommy.” Molly hiccuped from Laurel’s arms. “Mommy!”
“It’s gone,” he said.
No need to take chances, though. Within seconds, he’d escorted them inside. Once they were safe, he shut and locked the door. The little escape artist had figured out the dead bolt. He’d have to secure the door another way. It had been a long time since he’d childproofed anything.
His knees shook slightly, and he grabbed the doorjamb for support. Garrett could face down at AK-47 or an Uzi without increasing his heart rate by a beat or two.
A milk-faced Laurel sank into the sofa, rocking Molly in her arms. The little girl’s cries tugged at his heart. Laurel rubbed her niece’s back, and she turned her head to Garrett.
Thank you, she mouthed.
He’d brought them here, though. He’d put Molly in danger. He should have anticipated. He knew better. Whoever said girls didn’t get into as much trouble as boys hadn’t lived with his Ella. Or Molly.
“I just wanted to play with the kitty,” she said through hiccups. “He’s the same color as my lion.”
Now that they were safe, Garrett’s breathing slowed from a quick pant. He crouched next to the sofa. “I know, Molly, but that kind of kitty doesn’t play. He’s a wild animal. No more going outside alone. Okay?”
“I want your promise, Molly,” Laurel said, her voice stern. “You can’t go outside without me or Sheriff Garrett.”
The little girl squirmed in Laurel’s arms. “Okay.”
Laurel allowed her niece to slide to the ground, but Garrett didn’t trust that look. His daughter had played the game before. He held Molly firmly by the shoulders, looking her squarely in the eyes. “Listen to me, Molly. Outside is dangerous. We’re in the woods and you could get lost. We might not find you. I want a real promise.”
Her lower lip jutted out.
“Molly.”
She let out a huge sigh. “I promise. Cross my heart, stick a nail in my eye, even if I don’t want to.”
Garrett held on to a chuckle at the little girl’s mutilation of the saying. He stuck out his hand. “Deal.”
She straightened up and placed her small hand in his. “Deal. Can I have something to eat? I’m hungry.”
Kids. Hopefully she’d been scared enough to mind him. Mulling over how he could keep Molly in the cabin, Garrett walked over to the bag of food on the table.
“Play with your stuffed lion, Molly. We’ll let you know when breakfast is ready.”
“His name is Hairy Houdini. Daddy named him after me ’cause I always disappear.” She ran off to the other room, swinging the lion in the air as if he were flying.
Laurel staggered to the kitchen table and slumped in the chair. She held her head in her hands. “Oh, God.”
“You okay?” Garrett asked after pulling a skillet from a cabinet and setting it on the stove.
“My niece was almost a midmorning snack for a mountain lion. Not really.”
“She’s something else.”
Laurel looked at the bedroom door. The little girl had an animated discussion going
on with her toy. “Like nothing happened. Is that normal?”
“Kids are more resilient than we are,” Garrett said before he could stop himself.
“You’ve had experience.” Laurel folded her hands together. Quiet settled in the room, with only Molly’s chatter breaking through.
Garrett’s teeth gritted together. He wasn’t having this conversation. She didn’t need to know how he’d failed to protect his own wife and daughter. Not when he needed her to trust him.
So why did silence feel like a lie? “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he said. “I need to get the rest of our supplies.” He hurried out the door without giving her time to quiz him.
Idiot. The winter chill bit through his bomber jacket. He scrambled over the rocks and made it to the SUV in record time. He was giving too much away. What was it about her that made Laurel feel so...comfortable? He couldn’t afford to like her. Emotions had no place in his world right now. Not when he was fighting an enemy that held all the cards.
He had to get back on track.
By the time he returned to the house with the last of the supplies, the crackle of bacon and a heavenly aroma filled the room.
“I found the bacon in the freezer,” she said.
Garrett’s stomach rumbled. He hadn’t eaten since last night. Without saying a word, he set the groceries on the table and started putting them away. They worked side by side, together. Too comfortably. He sliced a couple of loaves of Hondo’s homemade bread. Laurel slid one out of his hands, her touch lingering for a moment. She slathered the toast with butter and popped the slices in the broiler.
“After Molly eats, why don’t you distract her?” Garrett said, clearing his throat. “I’ll do some looking into your father.”
Laurel put down a knife and turned slowly toward him. “How long have you been out of the game?” she asked.
“What makes you think—?”
“At first glance I didn’t notice,” she said, “but I checked out the equipment a second time while you were gone. Most of it is a couple years old. You haven’t upgraded. If you were active, you’d have the latest.”
“Molly, time to eat,” Garrett called out.
He heard the slap of shoes as she raced into the room. She squealed and sat at the table. “Hairy and I are starving to death.” She dug into the bacon and toast, munching down.