Blogger Bundle Volume VIII: SBTB's Harlequins That Hooked You

by Jennifer Crusie

  He eased his hand beneath his jacket, undid his hip holster and pulled out his Ruger. “Stay down. Don’t move until I tell you to.”

  Dane scanned the wooded area across the street from the lake cottage. Whoever was out there might be using a rifle with an ungodly range, and that could mean he was a good distance away. But Dane’s instincts told him that the shooter wasn’t a professional—if he was, he wouldn’t have missed. And that probably meant he was close by and using a hunting rifle.

  “When I start shooting, we’re going off the porch and toward the car.” As they dashed from the porch, Dane fired off several shots toward the unseen enemy in the woods. They landed in front of the Navigator just as their attacker retaliated, peppering the porch and house. Then he fired several bullets into the side of Annie’s sport utility vehicle. Dane maneuvered Annie down to the ground, keeping his body between her and the shooter.

  He exchanged more fire with the gunman. Suddenly an odd sound, like a muffled cry, came from the woods, followed by the crunch of footsteps over dry leaves and underbrush. And then everything went eerily quiet. Deadly still. A faint rustle of wind through the trees. A whispery mumble from the lake behind the cottage. The hum of springtime insects.

  And the roar of a car’s engine.

  “I must have hit him,” Dane said.

  “Is he gone?”

  “Yeah, I’d say he’s leaving.” Dane grabbed Annie’s arm and brought her to her feet along with him, when he stood. “We’re going after him.”

  “We are?”

  “Give me the keys,” he demanded.

  She didn’t think twice, didn’t question his barked order. She just dug into her purse, pulled out the keys and handed them to him.

  He unlocked the doors, shoved her into the passenger seat, fastened the safety belt and then rounded the hood. He jumped in the Navigator, slammed the door, swung the safety belt around him, and started the motor.

  “Is there more than one road out of here?” Dane asked as he backed the vehicle into the road.

  “No, just this one, coming from town and going farther out into the country.”

  “Then he’ll have to leave by this road.”

  “But how can we know which way he went?”

  “We’ll have to guess.” Dane turned the car in the direction that lead to town. If the guy was shot, he’d go toward civilization, go to someone who could discreetly take care of his wound.

  Pressing his foot on the accelerator, Dane put the Navigator’s V-8 engine to the test. He glanced at Annie. She looked as if she were holding her breath.

  “Hang on, honey. I see taillights up ahead.”

  “Do you think it’s him?”

  “We’ll find out.”

  Dane increased the speed and within minutes they were overtaking the car in front of them.

  “Can you make out the license plate numbers?” he asked.

  “Not yet.”

  When Dane pulled the Navigator closer, the car in front of them began swerving from one side of the road to the other, as if the driver were intoxicated. Either the guy’s injury was seriously affecting him or he was playing some kind of deadly game. Every time Dane tried to get close to the car, which he now recognized as a dark blue older model sports car, the driver increased his speed and veered off toward the side of the road.

  “What’s he doing?” Annie laid her hands over her stomach.

  “Are you getting sick?”

  “Queasy, but I’m okay. What’s he trying to do?”

  “Keep us from getting his plate number and stop us from passing him to get a look at his face.”

  Without warning, the sports car drove off the road, shrieked into reverse and came back toward the Navigator. He rammed the side of the sports utility vehicle with his back bumper. Annie gasped. Dane clutched the steering wheel with white-knuckled strength, trying to avoid another direct hit.

  Suddenly Dane noticed something shiny in the driver’s side window, the moonlight reflecting off the object. A gun! Damn! One of the bullets entered the front wheel. Double damn! Dane thought. The tire would be flat in no time.

  “He hit the tire, didn’t he?” Annie tried to concentrate on the license plate of the attacking car. “A four and a one,” she said. “It’s a Lauderdale County tag.”

  The sports car roared, shifted into drive and flew away, leaving the Navigator crippled. Dane pulled off to the side of the road, then got out. Cursing under his breath, he unlocked the tailgate.

  Annie hopped out, grateful to be alive, glad she hadn’t thrown up and mad as hell that she hadn’t been able to get more than four-one off the license plate.

  “Did you get a look at him?” she asked as she watched Dane roll the spare tire around to the front fender.

  “No, it was too dark and he kept moving.” Dane laid the tire on the ground and turned to Annie. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “I’m okay, just a little shaken.”

  The Navigator’s headlights shown like two luminous balls, casting beams of illumination out into the darkness. Overhead, the moon glowed brightly and stars littered the black sky. Dane reached out, slid his hand under her hair and around her neck, then pulled her toward him. She looked up at him and saw the concern in his eyes. “I’m going to keep you safe. I promise.”

  Leaning down, he pressed his forehead against hers, his breath warm on her face. His big fingers threaded through her hair, inching upward to cup the back of her head. She lifted her face. He kissed her. An I’m-so-damn-glad-you’re-alive kiss. The kind that was hot and wet and thrusting from the moment their lips met.

  He ended the kiss abruptly, released her and stepped away. “Get one of the flashlights and hold it for me while I change this tire.”

  She couldn’t move for a couple of seconds. She was still reeling from Dane’s passionate kiss. But he didn’t seem the least bit affected by it. He was as cool as a cucumber.

  She pulled her purse off the seat, delved inside and found a flashlight. “Where do you want me to shine it?” She hated that quivery note in her voice.

  “Shine it on the tire,” he said, his lips curving into a smile.

  She laughed, a nervous, agitated little laugh. “On the tire. Of course.”

  Annie saw the lights flashing atop the police cars half a block away from her house. Her heart leaped into her throat. Dear God, what had happened?

  Dane slowed the Navigator and pulled it up to the curb. Two police vehicles blocked the driveway. He reached over and grabbed Annie’s arm. “You stay here. Let me see what’s going on.”

  At that very minute Annie saw her mother, wearing a yellow satin robe, and Uncle Royce standing in the yard, talking to Chief Holman. Aunt Vera sat on the portico steps, her hands folded in her lap. Disregarding Dane’s order to stay in the car, Annie flung open the door and ran across the lawn.

  A young, bright-eyed officer threw out his arm in front of her. “Sorry, ma’am, you can’t—”

  “Let her through, McNabb. That’s Mrs. Harden’s daughter. She lives here,” Holman said. “And him, too.” He nodded at Dane, who was only a couple of feet behind Annie.

  Annie rushed to her mother’s side. Jennifer opened her arms and embraced her. “Oh, Annie, Annie, where were you?” Jennifer asked, her voice quivering. “I’ve been scared to death that something dreadful had happened to you. Someone broke into the house while we were out to dinner and—”

  “I’m fine, Mother.” Hugging Jennifer and patting her on the back, Annie offered comfort. “Didn’t you see the note I left?”

  “What note?” Jennifer lifted her head and stared at Annie. “We didn’t find a note, did we, Royce?”

  “No note,” Royce Layman said. “Where did you leave it, Annie?”

  “On the refrigerator where I always leave notes.”

  “Then I don’t understand why it wasn’t there.” Jennifer looked to her brother-in-law, her gaze questioning.

  “Was the house ransacked?” Dane asked.


  “No, why?” Chief Holman asked.

  “Just curious. Was it a burglary or—”

  “They broke in through the kitchen door.” The puzzled look on Jennifer’s face was a silent proclamation of her disbelief that anyone would have done such a terrible thing. “They made a bit of a mess in the kitchen and the den…” She shuddered, apparently unnerved by the memory of what she’d seen. “And they stole several items from the den. The VCR, the small TV, the CD and tape player, along with some CDs and tapes.”

  “Is that all that’s missing?” Dane asked.

  “Seems to be,” Holman said. “We’ve had Mrs. Harden take a quick look through the house and it appears that the only rooms touched were the kitchen and den.”

  “Don’t you think that’s odd?” Dane said.

  Annie glanced over her shoulder and cast her gaze up at Dane. She knew what he was getting at. Someone had broken into her house, read the note she’d left for her mother, and then faked a burglary by taking the TV, VCR and CD player. Her gaze locked with Dane’s and they exchanged a mental acknowledgment. So that’s how he knew where we were! Their attacker had read the note and followed them to the Robinsons’s cottage. But how had he known where the cottage was located?

  “How did he know—” Annie said.

  “Didn’t your security system work tonight?” Dane asked, cutting Annie off midsentence.

  She glared at him. He lifted his eyebrows and cut his eyes to the side. He didn’t want someone to know what had happened at the lake house. Who didn’t he trust? she wondered. The local police. Or a member of her family! But how could he distrust her mother? Or her aunt and uncle?

  “We don’t have a security system,” Jennifer said. “And it’s my fault. Annie’s been after me for over a year now to have one installed, but I hate those things. It always seemed to me that they’re more trouble than they’re worth.”

  “I’ll call first thing tomorrow and have one installed,” Dane informed them.

  Chief Holman placed his hand on Dane’s shoulder and led him aside. “We’ve done all we can here. No fingerprints. No clues of any kind. None of the neighbors saw or heard anything.”

  “What time did Mrs. Harden and the Laymans come back from dinner?” Dane asked.

  “They said around ten-fifteen,” Holman told Dane. “But the Laymans left and went home. It was about thirty minutes later, when Mrs. Harden went back downstairs, after she’d changed into her gown, that she discovered the break-in. She called 9-1-1 immediately and then phoned the Laymans.”

  “Annie Harden and I were at the Robinson family’s lake cottage tonight.” Dane lowered his voice to keep the conversation between himself and the police chief strictly private. “Someone driving a dark blue sports car with a Lauderdale County license plate shot at us. I returned fire and I’m pretty sure he took a bullet.”

  “Another attempt on Ms. Harden’s life,” Holman said. “You think this staged burglary and what happened out at the lake are connected, don’t you?”

  “Yes, I think someone broke in here, looking for something, and found the note Annie had left for her mother. Whoever did this knew where the Robinson family’s lake house is because he showed up there before midnight.”

  “That means someone local.”

  “Either that or he’s working for someone local, someone who knows the Robinsons and probably the Harden family, too.”

  “I’ll give Sheriff Brewer a call and he’ll send somebody out to the Robinsons’s place on the lake.” Chief Holman rubbed the back of his neck. “This isn’t going to look good in the local papers or on WOWL-TV tomorrow.”

  “Dane!”

  Annie motioned for him to come to her. She stood on the front portico, her arm around her mother. Royce Layman sat beside his wife on the steps, holding her hand, their fingers entwined.

  “Annie’s Navigator has a few bullet holes in it and there’s a bullet in the tire I had to change.” Dane handed the car keys to Holman. “And there’s probably paint off the sports car on the driver’s side. It wouldn’t hurt to have things checked out, would it?”

  Holman nodded, stuffed the keys into his pocket and started issuing orders for his men to finish up and clear out. He went over to speak to Royce Layman, assuring him they’d do their best to find the culprit.

  Dane passed Royce on the steps. Annie’s uncle glanced up at him. “We’re counting on you, my boy.”

  When Dane joined Annie on the portico, he found her arguing with her mother.

  “But why must I leave my own home?” Jennifer’s mouth drooped in a pitiful little pout.

  “It isn’t safe here, Mother,” Annie said. “Dane will have a difficult enough time keeping me safe without our having to worry about you.”

  “Annie’s right,” Vera said. “You should come home with Royce and me tonight and stay until this whole mess with Annie is straightened out.”

  “I don’t want to leave you, when you need me.” Jennifer grasped Annie’s hand tightly, as if letting go would summon some horrendous disaster. “A mother is supposed to take care of her child…and you’re the only child I have. Nothing must happen to you.” Tears streamed down Jennifer’s cheeks, streaking her creamy, translucent skin.

  Dane gently eased Annie’s hand from her mother’s tenacious grip, then he brought both of Jennifer’s hands together in his. “If you want to help Annie, and I know that you do, then you pack a bag and go home with your sister. I’m not going to let anything happen to Annie. I’ll guard her with my life.” He gazed directly into Jennifer’s moist, worried eyes. “I give you my word.”

  As a gentleman. He didn’t say it, but Annie knew, as her mother did—as her aunt and uncle did—that that was what he’d meant.

  “All right then, if you think it best for me to stay with Vera for a while, I’ll go pack a bag.” Jennifer’s mouth lifted in a fragile smile. “I trust you, Dane Carmichael. I trust you with my only child’s life.”

  Annie leaned back against the white Doric column on the left side of the portico, shook her head in amazement and covered her mouth to silence a stupid little chuckle that she couldn’t control. Dane had handled her mother the way she’d seen her father handle her time and time again during their marriage. Earl Harden had always known just the right thing to say to make his wife do whatever he wanted her to do. She had never questioned his orders or his suggestions. And she’d never questioned his right to take charge of every situation.

  No doubt Dane had learned from his father just how to handle a sensitive, delicate Southern belle. And God knew Jennifer Lee Forrest Harden was as sensitive and delicate a Southern belle as the New South had ever bred.

  “I’ll go with you, Jenny,” Vera said, then followed Jennifer inside the house.

  “Would you care for a drink, Mr. Layman?” Dane asked. “I think I saw a bottle of bourbon in the liquor cabinet earlier.”

  “I could use a drink,” Royce said. “I’m afraid my old heart isn’t used to so much excitement. First Annie’s problems and now this break-in. What’s this world coming to when people aren’t safe in their own homes?”

  Thirty minutes later, when the grandfather clock struck the half hour, Annie stood in the doorway, waving goodbye to her mother, who was tucked snugly between Aunt Vera and Uncle Royce in the front seat of their Mercedes. Annie closed the door and turned, then gasped. Dane stood directly behind her.

  He caught her shoulders to steady her. “It’s late. We both need to get some rest.”

  Her breathing quickened. Dane was close—too close. She could smell the masculine heat of his body, could feel the soft, warmth of his breath, could almost hear the beat of his heart.

  “Don’t you think we should talk?” She wished he would release her and yet at the same time something inside her longed for him to pull her closer, to bring her up against his hard body and give her the feeling of being safe and secure.

  “There’s nothing that won’t wait until morning.” Dane dropped his hand
s from her shoulders. “I told Chief Holman what happened at the cottage earlier tonight and gave him the keys to your Navigator. He’s getting in touch with the county sheriff.”

  She nodded, then swallowed. She was bone weary. Her body ached from the tumble and roll on the front porch of the Robinsons’s cottage. A hazy fog of exhaustion clouded her mind as tiny fragments of memory tormented her. The rifle shots. Dane protectively covering her body with his. The godawful fear!

  “Annie?”

  “Yes?”

  “Staying here really isn’t safe, you know,” Dane told her. “The smartest thing for me to do is take you into hiding somewhere.”

  “No! Absolutely not.” She sought understanding when she stared directly into his eyes.

  “You don’t have to set yourself up as bait, honey. It’s far too dangerous.” He reached for her, but she sidestepped his grasp. “Annie, I won’t let you deliberately set yourself up this way.”

  “You have no choice.” Her voice possessed the calm, cool control of a determined woman. “The decision isn’t yours to make. I want whoever kidnapped Halley—whoever is trying to kill me—to come after me again. It’s the quickest and best way to bring him out in the open. You know that as well as I do.”

  “By putting yourself in this position, you’ll be making my job twice as difficult.” However, Dane knew she was right. Using Annie as bait to draw out the man behind Halley Robinson’s disappearance and the attempts on Annie’s life was the quickest and perhaps easiest way to capture him. But it was also the most dangerous way for Annie. If he thought, for one minute, that he could dissuade her from remaining in her mother’s home, making herself easily accessible to the would-be killer, he would whisk her away tonight. But he was smart enough to know when he was fighting a losing battle. Annie was damned and determined to do this. Now, all he had to do was keep her safe, while she risked her life to lure their attacker out of the shadows.

  “I’m staying here,” she said.