by Cassie Miles
“What about the exercise room?” she asked.
He pushed open a door below the main staircase and flicked a light switch. “Down here.”
The basement wasn’t as nicely finished as the upper levels. Beyond the low-ceilinged television room at the foot of the stairs were several closed doors. Jarvis opened the first door to his right, showing her a large exercise room with a wall mirror and several pieces of equipment. She noticed high windows and assumed there were window wells outside. If she could get down here, she might be able to squeeze out.
“Anytime you want to exercise,” Jarvis said, “this is the place. It’s important for you to stay healthy.”
She couldn’t stop herself from asking, “Why?”
His thin lips pinched together. He’d been waiting for her to ask. “Isn’t it obvious?”
“Not at all.” She wasn’t good at playing games, and her patience was gone. “Why am I here?”
“Because of your incompetence, I lost my son. When I heard you were pregnant, I knew what I must do.”
Dread seeped through her. She was suddenly cold, frozen with the deepest fear a mother can experience. She knew what he wanted. “No.”
“Oh, yes,” he said. “The child growing in your belly is mine.”
* * *
TROY HAD BEEN right about Carol. An ex-wife knew how to find her husband. At the unmanned hangar in Dillon, they spotted the helicopter that belonged to Jarvis’s company. Carol’s friend in the area hadn’t seen the chopper land and couldn’t tell them for sure that Olivia had been on board, but it was a safe assumption.
Following her directions, he and Alex drove a rented SUV along back roads to a secluded cabin with a horse barn that Carol identified as the home of her ex-
husband’s mistress. The lights were out, and there weren’t additional vehicles. Still, Troy scoped out the surrounding area and peeked through windows.
When he returned to the SUV, Alex and Carol were locked in an embrace. He opened the back door to the SUV, and they broke apart.
“Sorry,” Alex muttered.
“Don’t be,” Troy said. “It’s nice that you two are together.”
“I’ve been thinking,” Carol said as she pushed her hair back into place. “Jarvis wouldn’t go to his usual tavern because there are too many people. He needs privacy.”
“Right,” Troy said, “and he needs to have enough space to hold Olivia and his mercenaries.”
“There’s a hunting lodge he sometimes visits.”
“Wouldn’t a lodge have other people staying there?”
“Not this place. The owner rents it out for meetings to a limited number of clients. Otherwise, there are only a few people who stay there. The time I tracked Jarvis down at this place, he was the only one there.” Her shoulders rose and fell as she shuddered. “He was sitting on the front porch with his rifle across his knees.”
She directed them along back roads and switchbacks. Navigating by moonlight gave her a moment’s pause; the only other time she’d been to the lodge was in daylight. But they only had to double back a couple of times.
Viewing the lodge from a distance, Troy could tell that it was occupied. The upstairs windows—
probably bedrooms—were dark, but lights shone through the downstairs windows and from the front porch. Using binoculars he’d bought from the chopper pilot, he spotted armed guards on patrol.
For the first time since he’d heard that Olivia was taken, he felt a surge of hope. Finding this lodge gave him a chance to rescue her. Without a word, he gave Carol a hug.
“Thank you,” he said. “You’ve been great.”
“Anything that hurts Jarvis is okay with me.” She cleared her throat. “Actually, that’s not true. I’m here because of Olivia. I’m deeply ashamed that my ex-
husband is responsible for taking her.”
Alex clasped his arm around her. “You’re a good person.”
Before they started kissing again, Troy interrupted. “I want to get closer to the lodge. Alex, come with me. Carol, stay in the car.”
Stealth maneuvers across rugged mountain terrain were second nature to Troy. Not so for his brother. Alex stumbled more than once, and Troy had to stop to allow his brother to get his proper footing.
Out of breath, Alex whispered, “How do you sneak around like that?”
“Practice.”
“I can’t take more than two steps without stubbing my toe.”
“Go slowly,” Troy advised. “Watch where you’re placing your feet and be aware of the low-hanging branches that can hit you in the face.”
“Easier said than done.”
“This is what I do,” Troy said. “It’s not like I’d know how to remove an appendix.”
Though their skill sets couldn’t have been more different, the brothers shared similar motivations. They both did what they could to make the world a better and safer place.
Troy checked his wristwatch. It was after two in the morning. Typically, the best time for an assault was just before dawn, which would be approximately two and a half hours from now.
The tricky part of this mission was getting inside and rescuing Olivia before anybody started shooting. Troy wanted to get a bit closer to observe the timing on the patrols and get the layout of the two-story lodge. He needed to figure out exactly where she was being held.
Bringing Alex with him on reconnaissance wasn’t absolutely necessary, but Troy appreciated having another set of eyes on the problem. His brother might notice something that escaped his attention.
Pointing to a clump of trees about fifty yards away, Troy said, “Over there. By the rocks. That’s where we’re going.”
“Got it.”
“Take your time. It’s better to be quiet than fast.”
He glided through the trees, finding his own path where there was none. He was glad that it was summer, and they didn’t have the additional obstacle of snow to deal with. At the trees, he lay flat behind a couple of moss-covered rocks and focused his binoculars on the lodge.
Two guards were sitting in front. One was smoking. Occasionally, they’d move from one side of the house to the other or go around to the back. There wasn’t a regular pattern to their route or in their timing, which made it hard to predict how to get past them.
Alex lay on the ground beside him. “What do you see?”
“One door in the front. One on the side near the garage.”
“Could they be holding her in the garage?”
“Not likely,” Troy said. “They’re patrolling the house.”
“What’s your strategy?”
The details were still forming in Troy’s head, but he had a general outline. “From now on, I want you to be the liaison with Olivia’s dad. He’s in charge of the actual assault team.”
“As in a SWAT team that goes in with rifles and sniper weapons?”
“Correct. Don’t worry, you and Carol will be gone before the shooting begins.”
“Nice to know.” Alex peeked over the rock. “So how does this work? You rescue Olivia and text me when you’re clear. And I contact Olivia’s dad?”
“Correct.” He didn’t like to think of the millions of things that could go wrong, but it was important for Alex to be aware. “If I go into the house, and you hear gunfire, call Olivia’s dad and apprise him of the situation.”
“The situation?” Alex raised an eyebrow. “You mean if you’re dead?”
“Or injured.”
Troy noticed something happening at the house. A light went on. He focused his binoculars on the corner bedroom on the second floor. Someone was awake. He couldn’t tell what was happening, but he felt a change in the atmosphere that was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. Goose bumps ran along his forearm. His throat tightened as a strange anticipation bubbled up inside him.
He saw Olivia standing at the window. She wore a man-size T-shirt that was as baggy as wings on her arms and snug across her belly. Her arms spread apart. She gr
asped each side of the window frame as her eyes squeezed tight.
“What the hell?” He passed the binoculars to his brother. “What’s she doing?”
Alex stared until Olivia disappeared from the window. “We’ve got a problem.”
“Yeah?” The need for action was so strong in Troy that he could barely stay still. “What?”
“From my observation,” Alex said, “I’d say she was hanging on to that window frame with all her strength. She was fighting a contraction.”
“A what?”
“She’s in labor, Troy.”
Chapter Twenty
When Olivia had gotten out of bed to go to the bathroom, her water broke. She tried to tell herself that it wasn’t a big deal. Lots of women had their water break a long time before they went into labor. Maybe a day. Two days.
She couldn’t have the baby now. Forget her visions of a serene labor and birth, there was something more important at stake. Jarvis meant to steal her baby. She couldn’t let that happen, couldn’t allow her baby to be carried off by a madman into a terrifying, uncertain future.
It was vitally important that Jarvis not know that her amniotic membrane had ruptured. He didn’t expect her to go into labor for days. Using a towel from the bathroom, she swabbed the clear liquid off the floor. When she stood, she felt the first twist of a contraction.
She’d counseled hundreds of women who were about to give birth, and she’d told all of them that there weren’t rules they had to follow. Every labor was unique.
But she never expected the pain of her first contraction to be so acute or so prolonged. She dropped the towel and staggered toward the window. Bracing her arms against the sides of the frame, she ground her teeth together. No matter what, she wouldn’t scream. Jarvis mustn’t know.
The pain faded. Breathing hard, she stepped back from the window. She didn’t have a clue how long the contraction had lasted. It felt like forever but was probably only a minute or two. She finished cleaning up the fluid on the floor and hung the towel in the bathroom over the shower rod.
Once labor started, most women wanted to speed up the process, and she had lots of tips on how to do that. The only way she knew to slow down was to relax. She lay on her side in bed and took long, slow, deep breaths. Inhale, exhale, relax. In spite of her fears, she had to ease herself into labor, to take control of her body.
There was no clock in her bedroom, and she wasn’t wearing her handy wristwatch with the stopwatch function. She tried to measure the time between the first contraction and the next. It seemed like more than ten minutes. And the pain was nowhere near as severe as the first. Her tension eased. Yes, she was in labor. But it could last for hours or even a day. By then, Troy would find her and rescue her and their baby.
She closed her eyes and continued to breathe quietly and steadily. She was an expert. She could control this birth.
While managing the pain from another contraction, she was aware of the doorknob turning. If Jarvis charged into the room, she didn’t know if she could hold back her cries.
The door cracked open and quickly closed again. She heard Troy’s voice. “Olivia, where are you?”
“In the bed.”
He slid between the covers beside her. His body was cool from the night air, and his embrace soothed the heat of her pain. She snuggled against his chest. He was here, he was really here to save her and their son.
Her whisper was nearly inaudible. “Jarvis wants our baby. To make up for the son he lost.”
“Not going to happen.”
“How did you get in here?”
“We should go to the bathroom and close the door. They won’t hear us.”
“I’m afraid to move,” she whispered. “I’m in labor.”
“I know.”
She had no idea how he would know that she was about to have the baby, but she didn’t question or dispute his claim. “Tell me.”
His lips were so close to her ear that his breath tickled when he spoke. His quiet words slipped into her mind, joining her with him in sweet intimacy.
“I felt your labor,” he said, “in a flood of anticipation that permeated every cell of my body, my mind and my heart. In that moment, I knew my life was about to change forever.”
She pressed her face against his chest. Tears squeezed through her eyelids.
“Go ahead and cry,” he whispered. “I can take it.”
“How are we going to get out of here?”
“Not the same way I came in. I scaled a wall on the back side of the house, broke a window and slipped into a bedroom. Then I waited until the guard outside your door took a pee break. I picked the lock, and here I am.”
In her condition, there would be no scaling of walls or dropping from the second story. They definitely couldn’t take that path to escape, but her earlier tour of the house had given her another possible route. “There’s a basement. If we can get down there, I think there might be a storm door or a window we can use.”
When he nodded, the bristles on his cheek scraped against her skin, and she welcomed the sensation. He made her hope again, made her feel that there was a chance that they could survive.
“I’m going to the door. When the guard is gone, I’ll give you a signal and you come to me.”
She wasn’t dressed for an escape. Her panties had been drenched when her water broke. But she had her shorts. And her shoes were under the bed. Lying quietly and concentrating on her breathing, she waited. In the darkness, she could just make out his form near the door. He seemed to have his ear pressed to the crack.
Minutes dripped by as slowly as molasses. Another contraction came, peaked and subsided. A regular pattern for the labor pains had not been established, and that was a good sign; she wasn’t close to the final urge to push.
His whisper reached her ears. “Now.”
Moving as quietly as possible, she left the bed, grabbing her shoes and shorts on the way. Outside her room, the hallway was empty. Troy took her hand and led her toward the far end, away from the main staircase. The last door at the end of the hall was nearly flush to the wall. He opened it, revealing a narrow stairwell.
As she slipped inside and he closed the door, she heard voices behind them. Two of the guards were talking about who should get the next shift and who got to sleep. Pressed tightly against Troy, she stood very still. Another labor pain arose from the small of her back. She gripped his arm with all her strength and held on.
“Breathe,” he whispered in her ear. “Breathe.”
Forcing a slow exhale, she got through the contraction without making a sound.
The hallway was quiet again, except for the shuffling noises of the guard outside her room settling back in his chair. Together, she and Troy descended the narrow staircase. He used the light from his cell phone for illumination. She moved carefully in her bare feet. Taking a tumble would ruin everything.
The stairwell ran all the way down to the basement. When they reached the concrete floor on the bottom, Troy opened the door and shone his light around an enclosed room that was obviously used for storage. She felt more protected in here. Taking a moment, she put on her shorts and shoes.
“What do we do next?” she asked.
“When we’re safely out of the house, I use my cell phone to signal Alex. He’ll contact your father and—”
“Alex is here?” She hadn’t expected his doctor brother to act as backup.
“Alex and Carol. We never would have found this lodge if it hadn’t been for her.” He ran his hand along her back. “Your father has put together an assault team. They’re in Dillon, waiting for the go-ahead to move on Jarvis.”
“What happened with your men in New York?” she asked.
* * *
TROY LEANED HIS back against the basement wall and stared down at the glow from the cell phone. He hadn’t spared a single thought for his team since they got to Dillon. If ever he needed a sign that his priorities had changed, this was it.
“I hav
en’t spoken to Nelson,” he said. “My team is on their own, and they can handle it. All I care about is you and our baby.”
“You really mean that, don’t you?”
“You’re everything to me.”
She collapsed into his arms, holding him tightly. Her grasp became a grip. He felt the strength of her contraction. When it subsided, he said, “That one came close on top of the other.”
“I haven’t been able to time how far apart they are,” she said. “I wish I could tell you exactly when the baby was coming, but I don’t know.”
“Is that your expert opinion?”
She stifled a chuckle against his chest. “A few hours ago, I didn’t think I’d laugh ever again. I wasn’t even sure that I’d survive.”
He wrapped her up in his arms. How the hell were they going to get out of this? They couldn’t stay here. As soon as Jarvis figured out that she’d left the room, he’d tear this place apart trying to find her. Going outside wasn’t much better; she couldn’t make any kind of long-distance run through the forest.
“I have an idea,” she whispered.
“Good, because I’m fresh out.”
“The original house that was on this property is about a hundred yards up the hill from here and over a ridge. It sounds like a ramshackle place, but it does have a well, which means running water.”
“That’s where we’ll go.” As soon as they were safe inside, he’d put through the call to Alex.
Using the cell phone light, he led her through a rabbit warren of unfinished rooms in the lodge basement. The high windows would have provided a viable escape route if she hadn’t been pregnant; her belly was too unwieldy to squeeze through.
Finally, at the opposite end of the house from the staircase they’d descended, he found a room that was packed with firewood and had double doors that led up to outside.
Her contractions were coming more frequently. He waited for the next one to pass and pushed open the doors. They were free.