CHAPTER 8
Darcy awakened before dawn. She could tell it was early because there were no sounds echoing through the cave walls, no scent of early morning coffee to indicate that morning had arrived.
She leaned over to reach her wristwatch on the table by the bed and checked the time in the light from the flickering glow of the oil lamp. Just before five. June would be up within an hour or so. Most of the house came alive between six and seven.
She picked up the sheet of paper on the table and stared at the artist rendering of the victim still called Jane Doe. The woman’s bright blue eyes stared back at her and long blond hair fell in soft waves down to her shoulders.
Jane Doe. Was this woman her mother? Darcy had gotten the copy of the picture from Deputy Ford
McCall two days ago, but until now she’d been oddly reluctant to show it to Micah.
She desperately wanted an answer and yet was afraid of the answer she might get from him. She knew that if he recognized the woman from his hometown of Horn’s Gulf, if he remembered her name had indeed been Catherine George, then that meant she was probably Darcy’s birth mother and there would never be the reunion between the two that Darcy had hungered for.
She leaned back on the bed and stared at the dancing shadows on the ceiling. She didn’t want her mother to be dead, killed by either Samuel Grayson or one of his henchmen. She squeezed her eyes tightly closed for a long minute, willing away the sudden press of tears.
She wanted the opportunity to embrace her mother, to ask questions that couldn’t be answered by anyone else. She wanted to know all the reasons her mother had chosen to leave her behind. She needed to know if her mother had thought about her each and every day.
She wanted to see if her laughter mirrored that of her mother’s, if they had the same slender fingers. She wanted to feel the connection to the woman who had given her life and then had left her in the care of another for safety’s sake.
Louise Craven had been a kind and loving woman. She’d raised Darcy to have high morals and to be independent and strong. She wanted to have the opportunity to show her mother who she had become, that she was somebody to be proud of.
Darcy had become close to both Deputy Ford McCall and his fiancée, Gemma Johnson. Gemma had nearly been sucked into Samuel’s control when she’d come to town after being beaten by her ex-husband, a brutal man who had eventually wound up murdered.
Like Olivia, Samuel had attempted to take the broken and wounded Gemma under his wing, but ultimately Gemma had fallen in love with Ford and been saved from Samuel and the cult.
Darcy knew how committed Ford was to finding out the identity of the Jane Doe, despite the fact that Chief of Police Bo Fargo had told him to lay off. The last thing Bo Fargo wanted was the identification of another woman definitely tied to his boss, Samuel. Still, Darcy had found solace both in Ford’s undeterred commitment to give a dead woman a name and in Gemma’s friendship.
She’d also found solace in Rafe’s arms. It was hard for her to believe that in the evil town of Cold Plains she’d managed to find a good man with a good heart who loved her as deeply as she loved him. But Rafe would never be truly happy until he got his son Devin back. It was a missing piece of his heart that Darcy couldn’t fill.
Darcy was reminded of Rafe’s loss each time she saw Olivia, who feared for her own missing child. Darcy’s heart ached for both of them, the man she loved and the woman she now called friend. She knew what it felt like to have a missing mother, but she couldn’t imagine the torture of having a missing child.
Two weeks ago she’d been working as a receptionist in Rafe’s doctor’s office and spending her nights next to him in his bed. But Rafe had felt things beginning to unravel in town, had sensed that danger was getting greater and greater and in a burst of macho protectiveness had insisted she come and stay here in the safe house. But that didn’t stop her from occasionally sneaking back into town to spend a couple hours in Rafe’s arms.
His biggest fear had been that somehow Samuel would recognize her as his daughter and use the information in some negative way to hurt her. Samuel had already shown the fact that family meant nothing to him when he’d sent a man to kill his own brother. If what Darcy believed was true, it was possible Samuel had killed her mother. What would he do if he knew she was his daughter?
Rafe had said that he would explain her absence by telling people Darcy had left town. As far as anyone knew she had no ties to Cold Plains, had simply drifted into town months earlier. There was no reason for anyone to believe she might stick around.
She missed Rafe desperately during the time they were apart, needed his arms around her when she showed Micah the picture of Jane Doe. But he was on a hunt for his son and she knew by agreeing to spend most of her time here, she’d relieved his mind as far as her own safety was concerned.
Darcy got out of bed, recognizing that going back to sleep wasn’t an option. She might as well hit the shower, dress and start the morning coffee.
As she left her room she wondered how this would all end? Would Rafe find the son he believed belonged to him? Would the FBI ever be able to get the evidence they needed to finally put Samuel behind bars?
Finally, was her mother alive and well or was she the Jane Doe in the picture? Killed by one of Samuel’s men and buried a hundred miles away from Cold Plains?
* * *
Micah reluctantly escaped Olivia’s bed at dawn and left the room, his head still dizzied with the scent of her, the warmth of her. He would have liked to stay and make love to her again, this time with tenderness and caring instead of the adrenaline-pumped possession of the night before.
He would have liked to linger in bed, watch her wake up and then show her that he could be a different kind of lover than he’d been previously.
But he had to meet with Hawk. He had to tell the man that Micah’s presence here was no longer a secret to his brother. Leaving Olivia sleeping, he grabbed his clothes from the floor and went to the bathroom where he washed up and then went into the small room he called his own. He changed into a clean pair of camo pants and a long-sleeved matching shirt and then left the room. He saw nobody in the kitchen as he passed through but noticed that the coffee was already made. Somebody besides him had crawled out of bed unusually early.
Once outside the predawn air was cold, portending of the winter to come. Winter in the mountains would be harsh and make things a hundred times more difficult for the people in the safe house. Travel would be difficult and footprints were easily followed in the snow. He hoped to hell they would all be out of here by then.
Within minutes he didn’t feel the cold as he hurried through the woods toward his meeting place with Hawk. He’d radioed Hawk a few minutes before to set up the encounter.
They occasionally met later in the morning to
exchange any news that might be pertinent to the case. But Micah still felt the rush of the chase last night, the concern that now his brother had the knowledge that he’d survived the attack from months earlier.
When he reached the fallen tree where he and Hawk always met, he sat on the trunk, thinking about the night before. It had felt as if the chase through the woods had taken hours…days. Several times Dax and his partner had gotten close enough to fire shots, barely missing Micah as he led the two farther and farther away from the safe house location.
When he’d finally lost them and felt safe enough to double back to the safe house he’d still been pumped up, topped off with an adrenaline rush that had him half-wild. And what had he done? Grabbed Olivia, pulled her into her room and shoved her up against the wall like some crazed animal thinking only of his own needs.
And he’d needed to rid himself of the wildness, had needed to release the adrenaline. He frowned as he realized he’d also needed…he’d wanted Olivia. And she’d willingly accepted him, met him thrust fo
r frantic thrust, as if the madness that had momentarily gripped him had been contagious.
The whole thing bothered him, but what bothered him more than anything was the question of when he’d come to a place where he needed anyone? When had it happened that he felt he needed Olivia?
After they’d made love, he’d stayed with her, pulling her tight against him as they both had fallen into an exhausted sleep. When he’d awakened this morning she’d still been sleeping and he’d spent far too long watching the play of the oil lantern glow on her features.
The scent of her had clung to his skin as he’d left her bed without awakening her. The scent, coupled with the memory of how she’d accepted him so easily into her bed, how she’d stroked his forehead as he’d told her about what had happened in Cold Plains, had made him feel for the first time in his life that he wasn’t alone.
And for all of his life, Micah had been alone. He hadn’t had a family to bond with, nor had he gotten close to any of the men he’d served with while he was a Navy SEAL. As a mercenary, being close to anyone, trusting anyone, was definitely a liability.
This thing with Olivia was like nothing he’d experienced before. He hadn’t wanted to leave her this morning; already he looked forward to returning to the safe house just to see her face, watch that beautiful smile curve the lips that drove him half-mad with desire.
He even liked spending time with Sam, who made him laugh with his childish antics and obviously had taken a real shine to Micah, insisting that Micah pick him up whenever they were in the same room.
He frowned and shifted positions as he wondered what was taking Hawk so long. He didn’t want to think about Olivia and Sam. Last night should have never happened. Making love to Olivia had definitely been a mistake. She and Sam were complications in the life he’d chosen for himself, people who had no idea that he had nothing real to offer them long-term.
As he heard a faint rustle of leaves, he jumped up, gun drawn and then relaxed as Hawk came into view. Hawk looked like he’d just climbed out of bed, but although his sandy blond hair was askew, his brown eyes were alert and curious.
“A little early for a meet. What’s up?” he asked.
“I’m no longer the FBI’s dirty little secret,” Micah replied.
Even in the tiny beam from his flashlight, Micah saw the frown that creased Hawk’s brow. “What are you talking about?”
“I was doing a little lurking around Samuel’s house last night and I was seen by the two guards. They chased me up the mountain for probably an hour or so before I finally managed to lose them.”
“What makes you think either of them recognized you? I mean, when you’re all cleaned and spit polished you might look like your brother, but right now I’d think it would be hard for anyone to see a resemblance.”
“Unfortunately, one of the men chasing me was the same one who put the bullet into my head almost six months ago,” Micah replied.
“Dax Roberts?” Micah nodded while Hawk shook his head. “That one is a particularly nasty piece of work.”
Micah fought the impulse to reach up and touch his scar. “Trust me, I know.”
“Are you sure he recognized you?”
“Positive. He had a rifle pointed right at my chest and if it hadn’t been for a moment of his stunned surprise at seeing me alive and well, he would have put a second bullet into my body. Thankfully I used his surprise to my advantage and dropped and rolled to avoid being shot. I figure within an hour of him losing me in the forest he informed Samuel that I’m still alive.”
“I’d hate to be Dax right now,” Hawk said drily. “I’ll bet Samuel tore him a new one.”
“Samuel doesn’t accept failure well from those around him. It’s possible Dax’s body will turn up
someplace far away from here and there will be a bullet in the back of his head.”
“My recommendation to you is to lie low for the next couple days…maybe the next week. If Samuel knows you’re alive, you’ll be a number one priority to him and his henchmen. I’m sure he’ll make his men understand that whoever brings you down will be well compensated.” Hawk clapped Micah on his back. “You have now become a major liability, my friend, and you need to remove yourself.”
“What about Olivia’s son…Rafe’s little boy? If I take myself out of this, who is going to hunt for them?”
“You know we’re doing everything we can to find them,” Hawk replied.
“It isn’t good enough,” Micah replied in frustration. “Each day that passes, the risk of those kids being whisked out of town increases and I’m afraid that once they leave Cold Plains, nobody will ever see them again.” He thought of Olivia, who had been so strong through all of this.
“How’s Carly?” he asked suddenly, an attempt to make Hawk think about family.
Immediately Hawk’s features softened. “She’s good. When this is all over and done, I’m hoping we can build a family here working her father’s dairy farm.”
Hawk and Carly had been romantically involved years before and then Hawk had left town and Carly had gone undercover to help save her sister who had become a cult member. In helping Carly save her sister Mia, he and Carly had rekindled their love for each other, resulting in the two of them having a small wedding with a deprogrammed Mia in attendance.
“We’ve just got to get this mission done,” Micah said, his voice forceful with pent-up emotion. “Each moment that goes by, another person is put at risk, Samuel grows stronger instead of weaker. Somehow, someway, we’ve got to figure out how to take him down.”
“I know, we all know,” Hawk replied. “And we’re working to that end. But we’re both aware of the fact that your brother has been very smart.” Hawk took a step backward and turned off his flashlight. The morning sun was starting to rise, creating a faint dawn light. “The best thing you can do right now is stay out of the line of fire. Sit tight at the safe house and let us take care of things from here. Seriously, man, you’re important to this mission and we can’t afford to lose you.”
Micah didn’t reply. He had no idea why the FBI would think him so valuable to their mission. So far he felt like he’d been little help to the men who were attempting to build a case against Samuel.
“I’m serious, Micah, sit tight in the safe house and if things go bad there, the only place you’d be safe is the Pierce ranch,” Hawk said.
“The Pierce ranch?” Micah looked at him in confusion. This was the first time he’d heard of the place.
“Nathan Pierce has a big spread on the outskirts of town. He lives there with his fiancée and a handful of people. It was Nathan’s father, Evan, who sold Samuel Grayson the property where the creek is rumored to hold mystical healing powers, the place that ultimately became the cornerstone of Samuel’s power.”
“So why would I go there if things get bad?” Micah asked.
“Because none of them have bought into Samuel’s teachings. The cult tried to kidnap Nathan’s fiancée, Susannah, and the family fought back. They’re solid in their hatred of the cult. They stay out of town as much as possible and mind their own business, but Nathan has made it clear that he can be trusted.”
Micah stared at Hawk for several long moments. “You have some sort of information that the safe house location has been compromised?”
“No, nothing like that,” Hawk replied quickly. “I’m just thinking that Samuel always saw you as a threat and wanted you taken out of the picture before you could hook up with the FBI. Now that he knows you’re alive and here, he might push things. He might turn up the heat on finding the safe house. Let’s hope if he gets frantic enough that he’ll also get sloppy.” Hawk shoved his hands in his pockets and reared back on his heels. “I just have a feeling that things are about to explode apart.”
“They can’t explode apart until we find those kids,” Micah said firmly.
Hawk pulled his hands from his pocket. “Just stay put and leave that to us,” he said, a hint of authority in his deep voice.
“I got it,” Micah replied easily.
“Good, then I’ll check in with you in the next day or so and let you know how things are going,” Hawk replied. The two men said their goodbyes and Micah watched Hawk disappear the way he had come.
Micah returned to the fallen tree and once again sat, his thoughts racing. Hawk’s “order” for him to stay at the safe house and out of the line of fire meant nothing to him. Micah didn’t work for the FBI and he didn’t take his orders from any of them.
He still didn’t know why Hawk would be concerned about his safety. Sure, they had been working together as best they could, but Micah was no big piece to this puzzle. He probably knew less about his brother than the men holed up in the cabin, the agents who had probably studied every area of Samuel’s life for the past five years.
Micah would lie low for a night or two, but he wasn’t about to take himself out of the game. This wasn’t just another job for Micah. This was a personal mission of retribution.
* * *
The moment he’d heard about Johanna’s murder, he’d vowed vengeance and now it wasn’t Johanna’s light brown eyes that haunted him, but rather Olivia’s sad green ones.
He couldn’t take himself out of the game, not until he brought Ethan back to his mother’s loving arms, not until he knew for sure that Samuel would never, ever hurt anyone else again.
With dawn fully breaking across the eastern sky, he headed back to the safe house, wondering what, if any, information Hawk had that he might not be sharing.
He’d said he felt as if things were about to explode apart, but, according to what Micah had heard, nothing had changed. The FBI had yet to be able to tie Samuel directly to the murdered women or any of the other dead and missing people from the small town.
Perfect Wyoming Complete Collection: Special Agent's Perfect Cover ; Rancher's Perfect Baby Rescue ; A Daughter's Perfect Secret ; Lawman's Perfect Surrender ; The Perfect Outsider ; Mercenary's Perfect Mission Page 102