by Brenda Joyce
Had someone just tried to kill her?
Kait inhaled hard. She realized she was shaking uncontrollably. The car that had hit her had not stopped to see if she was alive or dead, injured or safe. And that in itself spoke volumes.
“Stay calm,” she whispered aloud. Was she hurt? Kait realized that a shooting pain was going through her temple. She released the steering wheel and touched the area, and knew instantly that the sticky stuff there was blood. She took another deep breath—and decided she had no broken ribs. She wriggled her ankles, moved her legs, then her fingers, wrists, and arms. She was, thank God, intact.
Had someone meant to kill her? Or scare her? Did it matter? This had gone too far!
Kait choked back on a sob of fear and pushed at the air bag. When she got it out of the way, she stepped out of the car, leaving the door open. Had Max Zara been the one to drive her off the road?
Kait tried to think. Had the car that had hit her and then continued to speed by been as large as a truck—or an SUV? Kait wanted to say yes. But the truth was, she had been trying to steer the Porsche as it flew through the woods and she simply wasn’t certain what type of vehicle had whizzed by in the night.
Besides, Zara had had ample opportunity to harm her or kill her—she crossed him off the list. If he wanted her dead, she would not be alive now.
And she was also leaning toward the conclusion that he was a cop.
Kait inhaled deeply, willing the trembling in her limbs to cease. After all, she was fine. A bit shaken perhaps, a bit bloody, but fine. And maybe, just maybe, the hit-and-run had been an accident caused by a reckless teenager or a drunk.
In her heart, she knew it wasn’t so. Kait knew that whatever trouble Lana was in, it had come home and reached her, Kait, at Fox Hollow.
In any event, she had to get going. She couldn’t continue to stand around in the woods like a terrified fool. Kait looked around. She was about twenty feet from the road and the night was pitch black, except for a handful of stars overhead. There were no lights to be seen. That was hardly a surprise, as all of the homes on this road were estates set way back from it, and they were few and far between. Kait suddenly realized that she was in a dangerously deserted area. It became hard to breathe properly all over again.
She told herself that the worst was over. The hit-and-run driver was long since gone. He wasn’t coming back.
But what if he did come back—to see if she were alive or dead?
She had to get out of there.
Kait turned and was about to jump into the Porsche when she realized that both front tires were flat. In disbelief, she stared.
Then she dove into the front seat, found her purse, fumbled for her cell phone. Everything but her phone came up in her hand—her wallet, her sunglasses, her lip gloss, and tissue case. Kait cursed savagely and turned the bag upside down, spilling everything out. The dashboard was illuminated so she saw the phone and seized it. The urge to call Trev was overwhelming.
Was he home? She dialed the house, begging the fates to have him there. She did not know his cell phone number—how stupid could she be? As she listened to the phone ring and ring, she glanced at the clock on the dash. It was midnight. Surely he was home by now.
“Hello?” Trev sounded irascible and sleepy, as if he had just been woken up.
“Trev! It’s me—there’s been an accident,” Kait cried.
“Are you all right?” he asked instantly, no longer sounding the least bit hoarse or vague.
“I think so. I mean, yes. Someone hit me from behind and ran me off the road,” she continued, aware that she was near tears and sounding hysterical. “I have two flat tires,” she said with a sob.
“Where are you?”
She inhaled sharply. “About two miles from the highway.”
“I’ll be right there,” he said.
Kait didn’t hesitate. “Thank you,” she whispered, deeply grateful. His only reply was a click of the line going dead.
She leaned against the hood of the car, hugging herself. If there was one person she could count on, she knew that it was Trev.
She hadn’t really wondered, even for a moment, if Rafe Coleman had driven her off the road, had she?
Kait shuddered. The answer was a resounding yes and it didn’t matter that he was a county sheriff. He loathed Lana, and with good cause. He loathed her for betraying, using, and hurting his brother.
He loathed Lana a zillion times more than Max Zara ever could.
Kait glanced down the road in the direction that the hit-and-run driver had disappeared. “Please hurry, Trev,” she whispered. She almost expected that driver, whoever he was, to reappear. But she told herself that the headlights she would see next coming from that direction would belong to Trev.
She heard a car approaching. Not from the direction of Fox Hollow, but from the direction of town.
Kait turned to locate the vehicle and froze. The car had seen her—it was slowing.
Kait ducked into the Porsche and turned off the headlights, cursing herself for leaving them on. Just then, she did not want anyone to find her except for Trev Coleman.
She remained squatting beside the open door, silently willing the oncoming driver to speed up and go away. But she heard the car come to a stop. The engine didn’t die, but after a pause, she heard a car door opening.
Kait cursed, but silently. She reached into the car’s back space and seized the tire iron she’d left there the other day. She slowly straightened, hiding it behind her back. The moment she did so, she was bathed in the other vehicle’s headlights.
“You okay?” a man called out.
“I’m fine,” Kait managed to reply. “Just fine. My husband is on the way.”
The man halted. As the headlights were behind him, Kait couldn’t make out much more than a shadowy figure. “Lana? Is that you?”
Kait cursed under her breath. Who was this? By now, she doubted it was a friend. “Yes, it’s me.”
“It’s John,” he exclaimed, hurrying forward. “What happened? Are you all right? Did you call the police?”
Her mind wanted to go blank, instead, as he emerged from the shadows into her focus, she fought for comprehension. John. Who was John? Was this Alicia’s husband? Warily, Kait faced a husky man with an attractive face and thick, distinguished sideburns. In fact, he reminded her a bit of a middle-aged Sean Connery.
“I called Trev. He should be here any minute,” she said, as John paused before her.
“You’re bleeding!” he exclaimed, his eyes widening. “What happened?” Instantly, his arm went around her as if she needed his support to stand up.
Kait didn’t like it. She jerked free. The moment she did so, she felt his surprise. “I’m an idiot. I fell asleep at the wheel—can you believe it?”
For one moment, their eyes met. He looked astonished and Kait did not know why. Then he softened. “Thank God you’re all right,” he said. “But you’re bleeding. And why are you holding that jack? Here.” He pulled an old-fashioned handkerchief from the breast pocket of his navy blue blazer. “Let me.” He smiled a bit at her.
Kait didn’t move as he wiped her temple. She told herself that this was her best friend’s husband, so it was hardly unusual for him to be so solicitous. And as he smiled again, Kait had a sinking feeling. There was no reason for it, but it had happened, and she pulled away. “Thank you,” she managed, setting the jack down.
He folded the handkerchief neatly into a small square and pocketed it. “You told me you would call me the moment you got back from New York,” he said, his dark gaze on her face.
Kait started. “What?” She was too tired for this.
“I don’t understand why you didn’t call me,” he said, a nearly plaintive note in his tone. Then, “Alicia told me you cut your hair. God, you’re so beautiful, Lana.”
A chill went through her. She hoped desperately that she was not going to find out that Lana had been lovers with her best friend’s husband. “I’ve been busy
,” she whispered. “And I had that fall.”
“I know. I wanted to come charging right over, but I didn’t dare. I sent Alicia instead. I miss you. I need to be with you, Lana,” he added, watching her carefully.
That answered her question. In shock, Kait stared at him. Did Alicia know that her best friend and husband were having an affair?
Of course she didn’t. Otherwise she would have behaved very differently the other day.
Carefully, Kait said, “I want to reconcile with Trev.”
“What?!” he cried. Then, “You despise him! You told me so a dozen times! You told me you can’t wait for the divorce, and that you can’t wait to be free! You told me that Fox Hollow was a choker on your throat and that it was choking you to death!”
Kait stepped back. She shook her head, appalled that her sister had said those things—and had probably meant them. “No. Not anymore. I’ve had a change of heart,” she said weakly. “I’m tired. I can’t talk about this now.”
“Then when are we going to talk?” he demanded. And he was angry now. “I’ve wanted you from the moment we first met, and it took me six years to finally get you. Are you jilting me now? Like all the others? Is that it?” His dark eyes flashed. “I love you. You’re all I can think about.”
“What about Alicia?” Kait had to ask.
“You know our marriage is one of suitability. She’s a sweet girl and a good mother, but I would leave her for you. You know all this. I told you many times. Say the word and I’ll leave her, sell the estate, and we’ll go anywhere in the world, Lana. Anywhere. Just say the word.”
At least her sister hadn’t promised him that. “I have two flat tires,” she managed. “I had better call Triple A.”
“I’ll call for road service. You’re avoiding the question. How can you be thinking of staying with Trev? He doesn’t love you. He despises you!”
“We have a child,” Kait said slowly. “John, Trev is on his way. This discussion can wait.”
“Can it?” He was angry again. “I haven’t seen you in over a week! Are you playing games with me now?”
The night yawned about them. Crickets sang. Leaves rustled. The road was dark and deserted. John’s face remained half in shadow, while the headlights of his sedan fully illuminated Kait. Where was Trev? Why wasn’t he there yet? Kait had had enough of John Davison. She didn’t want to spend another moment alone in the woods with him. “I’m not playing games. I’m hurt and tired. Exhausted, actually.”
He stared, his expression changing to bewilderment. It was mild at first. “Lana?” He seemed puzzled now. “Are you sure you’re all right? You’re acting so differently. Maybe you hurt your head in the car accident.”
Kait touched her temple. It was no longer bleeding, but she seized on the excuse. “Maybe you’re right. My head hurts terribly. Please. We can—and will—talk another time.”
He stared, then took her hands in his. Kait tensed, but forced herself not to fight his grasp. “Just promise me this talk of staying with Coleman is just that, talk. Promise me we can decide our future together.”
Their future? Had Lana been playing this man like a fisherman played a trout on his line? Dumbly, Kait nodded.
Relief covered his distinguished features. He smiled. “Come. Let’s call Triple A. We can save Trev the call.”
Kait slipped free of his grasp. “It would be great if you could do that,” she said, wondering if he could read the relief in her expression.
His expression changed—it seemed to harden with mistrust—but then a car could be heard approaching and they both glanced toward the sound. It was coming from town. Dismayed, Kait thought that if it was Rafe Coleman, she might simply die. And sure enough, a moment later a flashing red light could be seen atop the approaching vehicle.
“Trev must have called the police,” John said, watching the police car, a black-and-white Chevy Blazer, stopping behind John’s sedan. The door opened and a tall, agile form emerged. Kait’s heart sank like a rock. She knew it was Rafe—she recognized the almost indolent and leonine way in which he moved. Kait bent and picked up the jack, gripping it firmly in her right hand.
Rafe walked slowly to them. “John.” He nodded at him, then turned to Kait and noticed her bloody temple. He lifted a walkie-talkie. “Get me an ambulance and a tow truck, Maggie,” he said.
“Ten-four, boss,” came the crackling female reply.
Then his arm shot out. Kait had no chance to recoil—he grasped her by the arm before she could move. Her gaze leapt to his and she was frantic with fear. His eyes narrowed but did not leave her face as he urged her to the hood of the car. Kait realized he wanted her to sit on it. “You can let go of that jack,” he said matter-of-factly.
Kait looked into his fathomless green eyes and didn’t know what to think. She was shaking. For one moment, she had thought that he might strangle her, never mind that John had been present. “You hate me,” she said weakly. But she dropped the jack.
“Yeah, I sure do. But you’re hurt.” He released her and folded his arms across his chest. “What happened here, Lana?”
“Someone hit me from behind,” she said. “No, someone followed me from town and rammed me from behind.” Too late, she realized what she had said. She stiffened, but if he had known she was spying upon him and Zara in town, he gave no sign.
He said, “You get a look at the vehicle—the driver?”
Kait shook her head. “It happened too fast.”
“Think he or she was drunk?”
Kait looked right into his eyes. “No.”
“No?”
She didn’t bother to tell him that the vehicle hadn’t been weaving. Or that its speed hadn’t varied. “I think it was someone who wants me dead,” she said.
Trev arrived at the exact same moment as the fire department. He came striding forward, followed by two paramedics. Kait took one look at his expression—another police car had arrived and the entire scene was thoroughly illuminated by headlights—and knew he cared.
Concern was written all over his face. He paused, his eyes widening as he saw her temple. Kait hadn’t bothered to look in a mirror, but she guessed she looked pretty bad. “I’m okay, really,” she said softly.
He took her arm and with his other hand, turned her face to the side. “Glass?” His eyes went to the cracked windshield of the Porsche.
“I have no idea. But the air bag inflated, so what else could it be?” For one moment, he did not speak. “What do you mean, someone ran you off the road?”
“Someone came up behind me and did not slow. Not even a hair. I may have even been followed,” Kait said in a low tone. The two paramedics now stood behind Trev, and she didn’t want to be overheard. “I was rammed once from behind. The driver did not stop.”
He stared. “Who would follow you, and why? And where were you tonight, anyway?”
Kait froze.
“Excuse me, sir, but we need to take a look at the lady,” one of the firemen said.
Trev didn’t move.
“Sir?”
Kait licked her lips. “I followed Max from the farm. It’s a bit of a story, but I’ll share it with you when they’re through.”
His jaw flexed and he gave her an enigmatic look. “That’s a good idea.” He stepped aside.
Kait was quickly examined by the first paramedic, who checked her vitals and pronounced her no worse for wear. He cleaned up her cut, informing her that it looked a lot worse than it was and he doubted it would scar. It had been caused by a piece of glass, as Trev had thought.
During the examination, Trev turned to view his brother. Rafe and another police officer stood in the road, which had been cordoned off with flares, examining what Kait supposed were marks left from the tires of the Porsche. Then he gave Kait a brief look and walked over to the pair. Kait wished she could overhear what they were saying, but there was not a chance in hell.
John Davison hadn’t left. He remained standing by the hood of his sedan, and every
now and then he would glance Kait’s way. She wished he would get in his BMW and drive away.
“Well, that’s that,” the blond medic said cheerfully.
“Thanks,” Kait said. A tow truck was finally pulling up behind the second police vehicle.
Trev remained in the road with Rafe and the other officer. John strode over, and as he approached, Kait flinched. “So, you are all right?” he asked.
Kait met a pair of dark, unwavering eyes. “Yes.” She hesitated. “You certainly appeared in the nick of time.”
“I certainly did,” he agreed. Then, his voice dropping, “I heard what you told Trev. Why would anyone deliberately try and run you off the road? What is going on? Surely this was an accident.”
“I don’t know,” Kait lied. “But I guess I’ve made a few enemies in the county.” She watched him.
He glanced over his shoulder. Trev was watching them. John faced her, putting his back to her husband. “This is a small town. The women are all jealous of you, and you’ve certainly jilted a few of my friends, but no one would do something like this. That would be insane.”
Kait shook her head. “I happen to agree with you—about the insane part.”
Their eyes locked. For one moment he didn’t move. Then he said, “When can we meet?”
“After the weekend,” Kait said, pleased by her answer. For Lana would have returned and she would be Kait London again and she would not have to deal with this.
He seemed skeptical but he nodded. As he walked away, he came abreast of Trev. They exchanged words, but Kait could not overhear them. They seemed cordial and Kait knew that Trev had no idea that Lana was sleeping with his friend.
She had a headache now, and she doubted it was from the superficial cut on her head. Trev and Rafe approached. Rafe said, “Got a skid mark from the other vehicle. Looks like we got paint all over the back of the Porsche, too. Must have been a truck or SUV that rammed you—it sure wasn’t bumper to bumper. We need to send everything to the city lab boys, but we’ll see what we can come up with.”