“What’s up, Kate? Is something wrong?”
Darcie’s anxiety came through loud and clear, and Gail hurried to reassure her. “It’s just me being silly, that’s all. I’ll see you tonight.” She hung up and headed for the door, but Polly barred her way.
“Don’t you think you’d better tell me about it?”
Gail felt like weeping. “I...I’m all right, Polly. I promise you. I’ll call you later.”
“Are you in trouble, Kate?”
“I’m suffering from an overactive imagination, that’s all.” Her voice had regained a little of its strength and she even managed to smile. “I’ll be fine after a good night’s sleep. Okay?”
Polly shrugged. “If you say so.” It was clear, however, that she wasn’t entirely convinced.
Hating the need to lie to her friend, Gail escaped thankfully into the frosty wind. She welcomed the chill on her warm face. Now that she knew Heather was safe, she was beginning to calm down.
She couldn’t seem to get warm, however, and couldn’t wait until she could get into the house and turn up the heat. Perhaps she had been mistaken, after all, she told herself as she drove slowly home. It didn’t seem possible that the big, friendly, sympathetic man she’d grown so close to could somehow be connected to the vicious criminal locked away behind bars.
She could picture Blake in a dozen ways. Smiling down at her with the mountain soaring behind him and thick, fluffy snowflakes brushing his nose. Laughing with Heather at the museum while he showed her how to paint clowns on the computer. The searing, hungry look in his eyes when he’d left her last night.
Her throat ached. She had to be wrong. She had to be. It was a stupid mistake, that was all. Maybe she hadn’t actually said the name “Heather,” but had just thought she had. But then she remembered clearly the cold feeling of certainty the moment she’d spoken her daughter’s name.
There was one way to find out if Blake was who he said he was. And it should be easy enough.
She made herself wait until she’d taken some medication for the headache, and had settled down enough to stop shaking. Finally, when she could put it off no longer, she lifted the phone. It took several calls before she reached the number she wanted.
The woman on the other end informed her that she was talking to the Real Estate Association in Seattle.
“I’m trying to find an agent by the name of Blake Foster,” Gail said, her shoulders hunched with tension as she gripped the phone to her ear.
“Do you know which agency he’s with?” the voice inquired.
“No, I’m afraid I don’t. I only know he’s in real estate in the Seattle area.”
“Just a moment, please, I’ll try to find that information for you.”
She waited, her fingers numb, her mind blank. Finally, after an agonizing wait, the voice spoke again. “Mrs. Morris? I’m afraid I was unable to find an agent by that name in our records.”
Gail swallowed. “He hasn’t been there long. Is there a chance he’s not listed yet?”
“No, I don’t think so. We have the computer records of every registered real-estate agent in Washington. If your Mr. Foster is selling real estate here, he’s doing so without a license.”
She could hardly speak. Her lips felt frozen as she formed an answer. “I see. Well, I guess I must have made a mistake then. Thank you for your trouble.”
“No problem.”
She hung on to the phone for several moments after the woman hung up, willing herself to stay calm. Maybe it wasn’t what she thought, she argued with herself. Perhaps he was married and had given her a different name. There could be a dozen reasons why he hadn’t told her the truth about himself.
Carefully, she replaced the receiver in its cradle. He’d lied to her. He’d been vague about Seattle, admitting that he wasn’t too familiar with the city.
Pacing around the worn carpet of her small living room, she recalled the first day she’d met him. He’d unnerved her with his sharp questions, as though he were grilling her.
She’d felt an almost-tangible sensation of a formidable and dangerous power that had frightened her. Then there was her feeling that she was being watched all the time. His persistence in wanting her company. In fact, she realized, with a stab of cold dread, she’d hardly been out of his sight since she’d met him.
It all added up. He had deliberately tracked her down. And there was only one person who could have sent him. Mike Stevens. Mike had promised to destroy her. He’d threatened Heather’s life. He was out to get her, and if he couldn’t do it himself, he’d told her, he would send someone else to do the job. That someone was Blake Foster.
Panic, swift and debilitating, caught her by the throat. She spun around in the middle of the room and whimpered. What could she do? Whom could she turn to? The police? They would laugh at her, the way they had in Portland.
No doubt Blake would have all the necessary identity to fool them. It was her word against his—the word of a woman suspected of conspiracy in her husband’s murder.
Once more she willed herself to stay calm. She had to think what to do. She would have to leave town, get as far away as possible as fast as she could. She would take Heather and go up into Canada for a while. At least until she could find out who Blake Foster really was and what he wanted from her.
The phone rang suddenly and she froze, staring at it as if it would blow up in her face. She let it ring a second time, then snatched it up, hysterical with fear, afraid that it might be Darcie on the other end.
Her whispered, “Hello?” must have sounded odd.
“Kate? It’s Blake. Polly told me you’d gone home. She said you looked awful. I was worried about you.”
He sounded concerned and just a little guarded.
In spite of her fear, she hadn’t been able to stop the tingling pleasure she always felt at the sound of his voice.
Horrified at the treachery of her body, she forced herself to stay calm. She couldn’t let him know she was on to him.
“Polly worries too much.” Her laugh sounded forced, even to her. “I’m quite all right.”
“I’d like to come over and see for myself. You shouldn’t be alone if you’re sick.”
Panic hit her, robbing her of speech for a moment. “No, I...Really, I’m fine. I’m feeling much better. I took some aspirin and they did the trick, so you have absolutely no need to worry. I’m going to take a little nap before I pick up Annie.”
It occurred to her that he didn’t even realize what he’d done. Again the stubborn hope that refused to die flickered to life again. This could all be a stupid mistake. She’d become paranoid again, imagining threats and dangers that weren’t there. If only she could tell him the truth—lean on his broad shoulders and take comfort in his arms.
“Well, as long as you’re feeling better, how about having dinner with me this evening? You know how I hate eating alone.”
She felt herself weakening. With an effort, she pulled herself together. He had lied to her. He wasn’t a real-estate agent from Seattle. Whatever his reason for lying, he couldn’t be trusted. And if there was the slightest chance that he could be working for Mike Stevens, then she wasn’t about to wait around and put Heather’s life, and probably her own, in danger.
She pressed her fingers to her forehead, trying to think clearly. “I...I’m sorry, Blake. I have a...meeting with Annie’s teachers at seven-thirty this evening. I won’t be able to make dinner.”
“Oh, that’s too bad. How about coffee afterward, then? I’ll buy Annie a milk shake. I know she’d like that.”
Gail closed her eyes as a shaft of pain hit her. How could she have fallen for that deceptive warmth and phony consideration? How could she have forgotten her first impressions of him so easily? She’d trusted so readily again, when all her life she’d been betrayed by those she’d believed in.
She should have known better. God knows, she’d had enough experience.
“Kate?”
The suspici
on in the sharp query alerted her. “I’m sorry, Blake. I think I’ll have to take a rain check. I don’t want Annie to be too late to bed. She gets so cranky the next morning. Perhaps we can do it later in the week?” She hesitated. “That’s if you’ll be around that long?”
“I’ll be around.”
Had she imagined it or had she heard a threat in that remark? She was shivering, she realized, in spite of the heat blowing from the vents at her feet. She said goodbye to him, barely suppressing the catch in her voice when she realized it would be the last time she spoke to him.
It was easier to think of him as the enemy, sent to get her and her daughter. Only she couldn’t quite make herself believe that. And that could be a dangerous mistake.
She called Polly, and gave her a long story about the cold weather getting her down. “It’s not just me, it’s Annie, too. She hasn’t been at all well lately. I think a week of California sunshine would do us both the world of good. Can you manage without me for a while?”
“Of course I can. Have a good trip and...Kate?”
She knew Polly wasn’t deceived for one moment. Apparently she’d decided to respect her wish to keep her troubles to herself. Grateful for her friend’s understanding, Gail answered her with a rush of affection. “Yes?”
“Take good care of yourself. And that little gal of yours.” Polly’s voice broke, and she hung up.
Gail replaced the receiver, feeling more lonely than she ever remembered. Polly and Darcie had been her only real friends. It was hard to say goodbye.
Darcie was surprised when Gail turned up an hour early to pick up Heather. “She’s upstairs,” she told Gail. “I think they’re holding a teddy bears’ picnic. I let them take cookies upstairs but I drew the line at filling their teapot with hot tea.”
“I’ve decided to take a trip to California,” Gail told her. “I think Annie might enjoy Disneyland.” She hated having to lie, but if Blake was hired to find her and questioned her friends, they would point him in the opposite direction, and she and Heather would be safe.
“Really?” Darcie grinned at her. “When are you going? Are you going to meet the hunk there?”
“No, I’m not going to meet anyone,” Gail said, just a little too sharply.
Darcie’s grin vanished. “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“It’s okay. It’s my headache making me cranky.” Gail forced a smile. “As a matter of fact, I’m leaving tomorrow. We’ll be gone for a week or two, but I’ll let you know when we get back.”
Darcie frowned. “Bit sudden, isn’t it?”
“Not really. I’ve been thinking about it for some time. Oh, one more thing. Don’t mention Disneyland to Annie. I want to surprise her.”
Darcie still looked doubtful, but she nodded. “Okay, I won’t say a word. You two have a good time, okay?”
Gail smiled. “Thanks, Darcie. Now I’ll go get my daughter.”
Heather wasn’t at all happy at being dragged away from her picnic, and Gail had to promise her a hot fudge sundae to pacify her resentful daughter.
“First off, though, we have to go home and pack our cases,” she told Heather, as she drove as fast as she dared on the frosty highway.
“Where are we going?” Heather sounded sulky, and Gail hoped she wasn’t going to be difficult.
“We’re going on a trip, all the way to Canada.”
“Where’s Canada?”
“A long way from here.” She was answering automatically, her gaze on the rearview mirror. She couldn’t see Blake’s car, but it was hard to tell now that it was getting dark.
The headlights from the battered-looking car behind hit the mirror, dazzling her, and she switched her gaze back to the road. Something about the car seemed familiar. She frowned, trying to catch another glimpse of it, but it had dropped back, and all she could see was the lights.
Maybe it had been the broken fender, she thought, but then she’d seen a lot of broken fenders lately. One thing she did know, the fender on Blake’s car was intact. Besides, his car was black, not light gray, and it was in a lot better shape than the one behind her.
Which meant that so far, Blake was not on her trail. Which was all she had to worry about right then.
She parked her car in the driveway, then opened the front door to the house. She wished now that she’d left a light on. Walking into a dark house gave her the creeps.
Impatient with herself, she felt for the light switch in the hall and flipped it on. She was letting all this upheaval get on her nerves. She didn’t know for sure that Blake had been sent by Mike. In fact, the more she thought about it now, the more ludicrous it seemed.
She was half tempted to call Blake and confront him with what she knew. But that would be taking too much of a risk. It would be far better to wait until she was safely into Canada before attempting to find out more about Blake Foster.
She would not let herself think about the past few days as she threw clothes into a suitcase. To do so would weaken her resolve. She hated herself for still wanting him, for being unable to cut off the feelings that had so recently blossomed into life.
It was just her lousy luck, she told herself, that she should find the one man in the world who was able to make her feel like a desirable woman, only to learn that he was a criminal who’d hunted her down in order to kill her and her daughter. It was the story of her life.
In his hotel room, Blake sank onto the side of the bed and reached for the phone. He dialed for an outside line, then quickly punched out the numbers he knew off by heart.
He waited through three rings before the line clicked, then relaxed as he heard the familiar voice in his ear. He spoke quietly into the mouthpiece, a habit ingrained in him many years ago. “It’s me.”
“So what’s up?”
“Not much. I’m maintaining contact with her, but so far nothing’s gone down.”
“Where is she now?”
He could picture her so easily. Her brown eyes laughing up at him, her dark hair blowing in the wind, her lips parted in an unconscious invitation that just about drove him crazy. He closed his eyes, willing the images to fade. “She’s at home with a headache. She’s supposed to be going to a school meeting tonight, so this could be it. If so, I’ll be there, right behind her.”
“Be careful, Blake.”
“Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing.”
“Do you? I sure hope so. It’s imperative she doesn’t figure you out.”
Blake frowned. The man on the other end of the line knew him well. Perhaps too well. Maybe something in his voice had betrayed his fascination with Gail Stevens. Angry with himself, Blake cleared his mind of the tormenting memories. “She has no idea who I am, or that I’m on to her. She can’t make a move without me knowing about it. I’ll stick with her like a bad cold until this job is done.”
“Just make sure you do the job. You wouldn’t be the first one to be fooled by her.”
His temper flared, and he fought to subdue it. “I just find it damn difficult to believe that she could have anything to do with that creep.”
“She married his brother,” the voice reminded him.
Blake swore. “What in blazes do women see in bastards like the Stevens brothers? It just blows my mind.”
“She’s getting to you, too, huh?”
“No, she’s not getting to me. I’m not that stupid.”
“Well, I could hardly blame you if you did fall for that innocent, wronged-woman act. After all, we were never able to prove she conspired with Mike Stevens. Or that she was ever involved with him.”
“Yeah, well, she just doesn’t seem the type to me. Maybe the feds were wrong. It wouldn’t be the first time.”
The voice on the line sharpened. “You can’t take a chance on that, Blake. Mike Stevens has been on the loose for almost a week now. He’s on the run and he’s armed and dangerous. If our sources are genuine, he’s on his way to join up with his woman in the boondocks out there. Why else would she
hang around some dreary backwoods town in the mountains?”
Blake sighed. “Okay, you’re right. It just seems such a damn waste, that’s all.”
“Look,” the voice said, sounding more sympathetic, “I know it’s tough. No one likes to hound a woman. Especially one who looks like she does. Just remember that as U.S. Marshal, your job is to bring Stevens back to jail. The woman is free to go, unless she tries to get in your way. Then you know what you have to do.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Blake wiped the back of his hand across his forehead. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it. I’ll be in touch as soon as anything breaks.”
He dropped the receiver into the cradle and glanced at the clock. He had at least three hours to kill before he drove over to Gail’s house and tailed her to the meeting.
He did his best to get comfortable in the inadequate armchair and flicked the remote through all six channels on the television. Images flickered across the screen, but he paid little attention to them. His treacherous mind would not let him alone.
Damn it, he wanted her in the worst way. His hands itched to cup her tantalizing breasts, and his mouth burned to taste her body. He got hard just thinking about her.
Groaning, he tilted his head back and closed his eyes. He should know better. He was a cop, for God’s sake. He, of all people, should know that the most innocent-looking were often the most guilty. Why couldn’t he keep that in his mind? What was it about her that made him forget everything that had been drummed into him for the past twenty years?
Cursing viciously, he thrust himself out of the chair and walked to the window. Drawing back the drapes, he peered out at the darkened parking lot. It was snowing again. He could see the snowflakes whirling around in the glow from the streetlamps.
Would she still go to the meeting if it snowed? Probably, he told himself. She took her daughter’s education very seriously. She was a good mother.
His stab of pain cut off his breath. What would happen to Heather if he messed this up and Gail took off with Mike Stevens? It didn’t bear thinking about. Always on the run, living in one hole after another...That was no life for a kid.
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