Maybe all redheads were sirens. That would explain why both Alexander and Dalton were so crazy in the head about her. It would explain his inexplicable, if highly unwelcome, attraction to her.
With a large sigh, she said, “No. I don’t want to put them in harm’s way. But I’ve put you in danger too much already, and I really can’t allow you to continue to put yourself out for a stranger. This is something I have--I mean that my husband and I--have to deal with ourselves.”
He couldn’t keep his big mouth shut. “Without the cops....”
She marched angrily to her door and yanked it open. “As you wish. Honey, I’m home.” She lifted her voice in a singsong intonation. She poked her head in the door, looked around, and called again, “Honey? You home?” She cocked her head to the side as if listening intently.
After a few silent moments passed, she shrugged and splayed her hands wide. “He’s still not back but I’m a big girl and I’ll be on the lookout this time, so I’ll be fine. Really. Again, thank you, but no thanks.” She wiggled her fingers at him and closed the door in his face, her features pure ice.
Cody stuck his foot in the door and shouldered it open. Walking inside the tiny house, he looked around.
Jesse Dalton’s photograph lounged on the bedside table amidst an array of perfume and costume jewelry. A half-full glass had the trace of a woman’s red lipstick. The bed had been haphazardly made and an open ledger sat askew on the pillow flaunting a woman’s feminine scrawl. An open accordion closet revealed women’s clothing, but no men’s.
He also noted the absence of anything male. No men’s clothing. No male reading material. No men’s shoes. No men’s anything.
“Can I use your restroom?”
“Two minutes and if you don’t leave after that I’m calling the cops.” She flipped open a shiny cell phone and started to dial as she followed him to the tiny room like a sentinel.
Inside the small room, he checked the cabinets and under the sink. No shaving cream. No men’s deodorant. No medicine bottles with anybody’s name on it but hers. And there were three different last names on her bottles. Dalton, Rhodes, and Parker, but not even Woods.
He wasn’t surprised.
Oh yeah, they were on the run. They knew Alexander was on their trail.
When he rejoined her, she pointed to the phone and glared. “They’re on their way. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave now.” With jerky, angry movements she stalked to the front door and held it open, motioning for him to leave.
Think fast.
He was damned if he’d leave here without her. He’d have to apprehend her now and come back for Dalton. Not exactly how he’d like to do things, but a bird in the hand....
A muffled footstep crunched nearby.
His blood froze and he went still, listening for further movement.
Shuffling, like someone creeping around outside the cottage, trying hard not to be heard. His hand crept to his belt where he’d hidden his revolver, reassuring himself it was there and ready.
“What are you doing?” Melissa’s fingers curled around a broom handle and she started to lift it carefully.
“Get behind me. Now!” he whispered, his gaze never leaving the door.
“You’re scaring me....”
Good! Maybe the self-preservation instinct would fill her with some logic and make her listen.
The door flung wide and the creep who’d attacked earlier leered at her. Sunlight glinted off a gun barrel that pointed at her heart. “Where’s your friend? You alone?”
Melissa glanced at Cody with her peripheral vision, fear filling her eyes. Her body tensed, her fingers curling tighter around the broom.
Cody mouthed to her, “Tell him I’m not here.” Luckily the door hid him as long as the Einstein didn’t think to peer behind it.
“You’re coming with me now. No more tricks. The Reverend’s patience wears thin. Can’t say I blame him.”
Cody nodded at her and mouthed, “Do as he says.”
Her body stiffened regally and she blinked as if to say ‘no.’
“Now! I’m not going to waste my breath on you.” The Cro-Magnon crossed the room and yanked her behind him. “The Reverend trusts me, and you’re not going to ruin that trust.”
Melissa sent Cody a beseeching look that did little to sway his growing annoyance. He nodded with more assertion, willing her to comply. He mouthed again and shooed her out the door, “Do as he says.”
She glared at her would-be kidnapper and then at him as if he was worse, which made him feel like a heel. But he knew what he was doing. When Melissa went with the man easily, he would get cocky and lower his guard. Then Cody would strike hard.
“Don’t worry,” he mouthed.
Finally, Melissa acquiesced and followed the man without further fight.
When the man turned his back on Cody, smug that he’d gotten his way so easily, Cody reached in his jacket for his pistol. Quick on the draw, he cocked his trigger, his aim square on the man. “Let her go.”
The man glanced over his shoulder, his face turning ghostly white.
“Drop the piece.”
“I’ll shoot her.” The man’s voice wavered and his hand shook.
“You do, I’ll shoot you square between your eyes.” Cody adopted his most lethal smile, the one that had served him well through many tight situations in the streets of New York.
“Richards,” Melissa hissed, her voice quaking and barely audible. She tilted her head at the man’s pistol, her eyes speaking volumes.
He ignored the plea in her expressive eyes. Mercy and fear weren’t acceptable. Either would be met with deadly force.
“I’ll shoot her. I don’t mess around.” Fear laced the big man’s booming words.
Cody put his other hand on the gun, squinted his eye and stared along the black barrel. The man wouldn’t dare shoot the heiress or Alexander would have his head. He only had to worry about his own sorry neck.
Sweat broke out on the man’s thick forehead and the heavy beads of perspiration poured into his eyes. His hand shook badly now, as if he suffered from delirium tremors.
Melissa stood regally straight and tall, her shoulders squared, her chest puffed out defiantly.
He willed her to use her common sense and follow orders. He was the one experienced with hostage situations.
He turned his glare to the scum. “I mean it, dirt bag.”
After a long stand off, the man tossed the gun to the floor. It discharged and the bullet whizzed close to his head and lodged in the wall.
Swearing, he ducked, and then dove on the attacker. After a few well-placed punches, he knocked the Neanderthal out cold.
“You dared him to shoot me.” Fury shaking her voice, Melissa crossed the room and picked up the gun. After latching the safety catch, she holstered the man’s gun in her waistband with precision. She’d have been an asset on the force.
“He wouldn’t have.” Not elaborating on the reason he was positive, he re-holstered his gun, as he kept an eye on the adversary.
“You’re awfully sure of yourself. You a cop?” She peered at him, distrust mirrored in her eyes.
“An ex-cop.”
“Figures.”
He fingered his jaw where the man had landed a solid punch. Swollen flesh ached and he winced.
Melissa crossed the room, removing his fingers and examined his face with close scrutiny. “I’m fresh out of steak.” She packed a plastic baggie with ice and slapped it in his hand. “Hold that on your jaw.”
“Get your stuff and let’s go.” He glanced at the man on the floor, stirring slightly.
“Like hell, I’m going anywhere with you....”
“You still don’t trust me?”
“My friends will deal with him.”
“What if he has friends who’ll arrive before your friends?” Grimacing, he positioned the bag over his aching cheek.
Melissa froze, her apprehensive gaze pinning him. “There might be
more?”
“Could be. Better safe than sorry. We’ll call your husband, or the cops--your choice--after we reach safety.” He kept an eagle eye on the man in case he made any funny moves.
“No cops,” she repeated. With haphazard abandon she slapped together a small backpack. Then with much more reverence, she slid Jesse’s picture into the top.
When a stab of jealousy pierced him, he chastised himself. What business did he have feeling jealousy over another man’s wife? Although Dalton didn’t deserve her, making her live in this shack and leaving her unprotected.
Melissa’s family was right to dislike the guy.
Cody hadn’t met him and he couldn’t stand the dude.
* * * *
Trying to size up her fearless savior, Melissa stared at him long and hard.
She’d seen that hard look on a man’s face before and it sparked embers of fear in her heart. Nathan always wore that expression just before threatening her. Oh, they were subtle threats, well masked in civilized niceties. Usually. Twice, he’d dropped his thin veneer of civilization and backhanded her. He’d looked as if he’d rather have strangled her. It had scared her to death and she’d never let another man touch her in that way again.
Cody stuck his hand out to her. “Time’s wasting. He won’t stay unconscious forever.”
She bit her lower lip, her gaze moving from the cave man on the floor to her dubious white knight. She peered into his deep brown eyes and made a quick assessment.
The dashing ex-cop didn’t look like a murderer and he had saved her not once, but three times. Not that he deserved the benefit of the doubt but because she was running out of options.
Snubbing his hand, she hoisted her pack onto her back then lifted her wildly arrayed hair out of its confines. Still, something in his gaze disturbed her, although she couldn’t put her finger on it. Jesse had taught her to trust her instincts and they’d never steered her wrong yet. “No thanks.”
“By then, you’ll be dead--or worse.” A ravaged sigh escaped his chest and he pushed long fingers through his disheveled hair. Dim light filtered through cracks in the walls, throwing his features into shadow.
Melissa blinked. At this angle, in this light, his silhouette was a dead ringer for Jesse’s. She hadn’t realized before that this stranger stood about the same height, and possessed the same general shape as her husband. He even had the same lack of fashion sense, preferring the early Indiana Jones look as she’d accused earlier. Still, she grudgingly preferred it to Nathan’s pretty boy, never a hair out of place style. She’d seen him in so many tuxedos she’d begun to dream she was engaged to a penguin.
“I’ll take my chances.” Discussion closed, she pivoted on her heel to leave him in her dust. Instead, grubby fingers bit into the flesh of her ankle and she gasped as she pitched forward, instinctively covering her face with her arms. Her pack slammed into her back, knocking the wind from her lungs, almost rendering her unconscious.
“You’re not going anywhere, babe,” a raspy voice said from the floor. She craned her neck and her assailant’s furious face swam before her glazed eyes, his features swimming in and out of focus.
She kicked with all her might, putting all her strength into her efforts. “Let go of me!” she commanded in her most impervious tones.
Ignoring her efforts so easily it was if she weren’t struggling, he held tight.
Suddenly, she pitched forward and her head slammed against the concrete floor. Black spots whirled before her eyes and she felt herself going in and out of consciousness. Searing pain like she’d never felt before pounded through her skull and she could barely see, but she strained to open her eyes so she could elude her attacker.
Fuzzy, furry grizzly bear-like shapes filled her vision. Cody held her attacker in the air about a foot off the ground as blood spurted out the man’s bulbous nose.
Her stomach churning, she grimaced. She turned her head and inched further away, holding back a groan. When she dared look again, the giant slumped to the floor.
Cody’s chest heaved as he bent low, his hands resting on his knees.
Now was her chance to escape both men, while one was unconscious and the other out of breath. It might be her only chance for freedom.
Stealthily, ready to dash to freedom, she scooted to the door. If only she could reach Mario, he’d protect her. He’d hide her from monsters like Nathan and this Cro-Magnon.
Just as she started to stand, Cody’s head snapped up and his gaze locked on hers. His eyes narrowed to mere slits as if he could read her mind. Of course she looked like a bird ready to fly.
“Are you thinking of leaving this party without me?”
Melissa shook her head slowly from side to side, her mouth set in a grim line, wisps of hair in her eyes. Matching him stare for stare, she pushed them away impatiently. Using her peripheral vision, she gauged how far she stood from freedom and calculated how good a chance she stood of escaping him. Did more of the bounty hunter’s thugs await her outside?
“No one invited you in the first place.” she said after a long silence.
“That’s fine gratitude to show a man who saved your neck three times, darlin’,” he drawled. “Women don’t appreciate chivalry anymore.” He dusted off his hands then pulled himself to his full height. His shadow stretched to her feet and she felt strangely caught ... and ungrateful.
Darlin’? In his dreams.
“Thank you,” she murmured grudgingly.
“You’re welcome. I think.” The right corner of his lips tugged upward and he wore the same devil-may-care grin that had so endeared Jesse to her. Her heart did a little flip-flop that seemed foreign after so long a sleep. She felt like the worst kind of traitor, letting a stranger have the same effect, even if minimally, that Jesse had on her.
For a second in repose, he’d reminded her of Jesse. That was all it was. She wasn’t losing her mind.
She took several cleansing breaths, forcing herself to calm down, until the giant groaned and rolled over. Sizing up the threat on the floor versus the one on his feet, her gaze glued on the man’s every movement.
“We don’t have time to debate this.” Cody flung her over his shoulder.
She pummeled his back with her fists, kicking her feet in the air. “Put me down this instant!” Police brutality! Even if he claimed to be an ex-member of the force.
“You know you’re one giant pain in the ass?” He dumped her on the hard ground by the front wheel of his cycle.
Dust threatened to choke her as her limbs sprawled unladylike, twisted and mangled like a child’s Gumby. When her tortured body finally came to a semi-still position, she blew wisps of errant hair out of her eyes, pouting. “You, Mr. Richards, are no gentleman.” She untwisted herself, and stood slowly, unsure if she’d broken any crucial body parts. Once she’d taken inventory and ascertained she was only a little bruised from the incident but not seriously damaged, she faced off against him, the rising sun in her eyes. Why did he always seem to have the advantage of seeing her face clearly while she only saw his in shadow? Did he somehow prearrange this to his advantage?
“And you’re no lady!” He swung his leg over the seat of his cycle and revved his engine. He patted his helmet on and strapped it under his chin.
She didn’t move a single muscle, just stared at him, keeping her face devoid of expression. Looking over his shoulder for signs of life, all she saw were scampering rats foraging for leftover carnival goodies and sparrows diving for the scraps the rats hadn’t dragged off. Still no human souls. Judging from the sun’s position still low in the almost cloudless sky, noon wouldn’t come for hours. No one would be up. They’d only gone to bed in the wee hours of dawn.
No help would be forthcoming from her carnie family.
Ruining her stoic stance, she glanced uncertainly over her shoulder to see if her would-be captor followed.
“Hurry up and choose. Me or him. I know what my choice would be in your position,” he drawled, a hint of a
New York City accent echoing in his words.
“Show me some credentials,” she finally said, needing assurance he wasn’t a mass murderer.
“You mean that if I carry a gold card or show you my clean driving record, I’m safe?” Ridicule lacing his voice, he chuckled. Bouncing on his seat, he revved the engine. “I’m cutting out of here in precisely one minute, with or without you. Do you really want to tangle with Mr. Bad Attitude in there? I don’t think he likes us very well.”
She wanted to trust Sir Lancelot, knew she needed to trust him, to take a chance, but it went against her basic nature. She’d had trouble trusting anyone until Jesse came along, then he’d been torn from her so cruelly.
“Time’s almost up. What’s the million dollar answer?” Richards tilted his head toward her shack, a smug smile hovering about his lips. “Me? Or him?”
She looked at the hovel she’d been calling home for the past few months and spied shifting shadows. Fear squeezed her heart, spurting her into action. She sprinted onto the back of his bike before she could think too long or too hard.
“Hang on, Guinevere.” He barely gave her time to encircle his waist with her arms before he pushed the machine into hyper drive, flying into the wind.
Chapter Three
Wind whipped Melissa’s hair wildly about her face. She pushed the errant locks out of her mouth and her eyes several times before she gave into the sheer pleasure of the ride, and let the wind have its way.
Fragrant woodsy perfume replaced the salt spray in her face, tickling her nose. The sun rose higher in the sky as they rode inland, losing themselves in lush forest that lay in stark contrast to the sandy, sunny beach. Traffic grew sparse the deeper they drove inland and she didn’t know whether to feel safe that civilization and Nathan’s bounty hunters were far behind without a clue to her whereabouts … or scared of her presumed savior.
Her thoughts traveled faster than the cycle. She needed protection and an escape plan in case they were found, in case Cody Richards was a fraud. But she had neither. For all she knew, he was headed to her father’s mansion or a rendezvous with Nathan the Nazi.
Deadly Love Page 4