by Hornsby, Kim
She had no distinct recollection of the moments before she fell asleep. Pete might have come to bed, but she wasn’t sure. Consciousness was lost as soon as her head hit the pillow. She opened her eyes to see that the second bed looked undisturbed.
It was strange to think of Pete as a U.S. Marshal when twenty-four hours before she’d wondered if he was a criminal. Everything she had thought about him was now out the window. Everything, except how he kissed. That much was Judson Peter Daniels.
An engine purred at the stern, and Nikki felt the movement of the boat, cutting through the water. Elvis sprawled at the bottom of her makeshift bed and she heard voices on deck. Sunshine poured through the windows on the starboard side. She’d woken with a feeling of freedom that she hadn’t enjoyed in years. Like being on a glorious vacation. Not only was she totally protected from Shakespeare, but the press had been left in the dust.
Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, Nikki’s thoughts drifted to the last few days and the whirlwind of surprises that had come her way. “Did you sleep well, Elvis?” She rubbed the little guy’s tummy. He rolled over onto his back to give her easier access to his favorite scratching place. “I sleep with Elvis, don’t I? Not many people can say that.” There wasn’t much stuff around the cabin, aside from a few books on a shelf. Was this sailboat where Pete lived when he wasn’t working? He’d told her that he just bought the boat in the last few months. Maybe he hadn’t moved in or maybe U.S. Marshals didn’t accumulate stuff.
She raked her fingers through her hair and looked around for her bag, hoping to tame her mane with a brush before she went topside. There was a very handsome man on board who was not married to Connie after all. While brushing, she reminded herself that this was not a vacation, and contrary to her sudden lightness of spirit, this was serious. People were after Connie. And a lunatic might still be pursuing her.
Hearing a noise from the bed in the bow, Nikki peeked in to see Tony’s arm wrapped around the hamster cage. Elvis obviously hadn’t gotten a whiff of that thing yet.
She opened the door and sunshine poured in causing Nikki to squint at the domestic scene on deck. Pete was at the wheel with a cup of steaming coffee in one hand. Connie was settled into a blanket on the couch cushions, talking to Pete and sipping from her own mug. A strange little pang of jealousy at the sight of them sharing a lovely moment invaded Nikki’s heart.
“Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Bayer,” she said. “Tony is still sleeping.”
Connie nodded. “He was so tired.”
“Poor kid.” Nikki meant it in many different ways, on many different levels.
“Welcome to the sunshine.” Pete grinned at her. “How did you sleep?”
“Like a pregnant log.” Elvis squatted and urinated at the stern. “Oh, Elvis, are you supposed to do that right there?” Resilient little Elvis, from a shelter, to hotel rooms with a rock star, to a lake house, to a sailboat. The world could learn from Elvis’s ability to adapt.
Pete watched the dog finish. “That’s okay. He’s gotta go somewhere. I’ll wash it overboard in a minute.”
“Thanks.” Nikki sat beside Connie. “I had a dream about you last night. Your name was Linda, I think, and you were a clothing designer.”
Connie laughed. “What a stretch, especially because you’ve seen me wear the same clothes for weeks now.”
Nikki looked at her. “Is Connie your real name?”
“Let’s just say it is.” Pete was quick. He stared ahead, his hand on the wheel.
She was allowed to know Pete’s real name, but not Connie’s.
Connie looked apologetically at Nikki, as if to say “I’ll tell you later.”
“No more questions,” he said. “Sorry it was so cold down there. I just turned everything on and got some heat going. Last night, I wasn’t sure how the heater worked.”
They were headed out from the bay. Nikki looked back to where they’d been moored. The anchored sailboats behind them looked unoccupied, with covers over the deck areas, no sign of life. Sea birds bobbed on the surface of the slight swell that rolled toward the beach. The green water was dotted with long strips of sea kelp, like cheese on French onion soup, and there was a definite briny smell to the air. It was an interesting contrast to Louisa Lake.
“I love the ocean.” She breathed deeply. Maybe Pete had a fishing rod on board. But would she stay the day? Pete said he’d get her to Seattle if she wanted. Was that where they were headed? Nikki needed to decide if she was safe on this boat, with these people, or would she be better off somewhere else. “Do I smell coffee?” she asked.
“Yes, and I even have some decaf for you, mommy. Didn’t you hear me twenty minutes ago, banging around in the kitchen, ten feet away from your sleeping head?” Pete smirked.
She blushed. “I guess I didn’t.” She had to call Quinn soon to tell her that she was on a vacation. Of sorts. With a U.S. Marshal and a fugitive and her son.
Chapter 18
Once satisfied with their new remote location, Pete turned off the engine and threw the anchor overboard. Connie and Nikki had set the dining room table for breakfast, stowing all pillows and sleeping bags on Tony’s bed to wall in the hamster cage from Elvis. The mood on board was more like the prelude to a vacation brunch rather than a desperate getaway. Tony settled himself at the table and snuck a piece of bacon. Between bites, he stared at Nikki. “So, are you really Goldy?”
“And good morning to you too, Tony.” Nikki laughed.
“Hi, Gooooooooldy.” Tony drew out her name like it was a joke.
Nikki ruffled his hair and smiled. “Hello, Tooooooonyyyyyy.” She sang to him, riffing his name into multiple notes and watched his eyes widen.
“Wow! You can even make my name sound good.” He smiled at his mom.
This was not the kid from the lake. This boy seemed light-hearted and well-adjusted.
“I don’t think I ate yesterday,” Nikki said, sitting down.
Connie looked horrified. “And you’re pregnant?”
“Pregnant, and very hungry.” Nikki scooped up a pile of eggs and helped herself to toast, feeding a tiny piece of bacon to Elvis who waited at her feet.
A few bites later, she looked up to see everyone staring at her. “Okay, Bayer family. Do I leave today or what?” She took another bite of eggs. “And who made these fantastic eggs?”
“Me.” Pete seemed pleased.
“I didn’t know U.S. Marshals were trained in the culinary arts.” She smiled warmly at Pete.
He took a piece of bacon, not meeting her eyes. “Do you want to leave us today?”
She shrugged. “Should I?”
Pete put down his bacon and sat back in his chair. “We can’t keep you here against your will. Well, actually, I can, but I probably won’t given who you are and that we only need a few more days of secrecy. And if anyone can understand privacy, it’s probably you.” He gestured to her with his open palm. “…but it’s better for everyone if you remain with us.”
She stopped chewing.
“Let’s see how to put this?” Pete stared at the ceiling. “We’d like to invite you to stay?” He faked a smile like this was the invitation of the year, and Connie actually laughed.
She looked between the three Bayers.
Pete took another run at the explanation. “Because of the reporters at Louisa Lake, we were forced to make a quick getaway last night.” Pete continued. “We had to go to plan B when the press showed up looking for you.” He took a swig of his coffee.
“So you’re saying…” She looked between Pete and Connie. “…that I’ve already put you in jeopardy by being in such close proximity to you. Now, I owe it to you to stay, because if I leave, I might be forced to tell someone where you are.”
“Basically.” Pete ate a forkful of eggs. “You know too much at this point for me to feel completely comfortable letting you go off on your own.” He spread jam on his toast. “I doubt anyone would target you or that you’d willingly leak our locatio
n but look at your trip to town the other day. Someone photographed you. The press love you, Nikki. And now Connie tells me that you know she’s a trial witness.”
Nikki stopped eating. Witness? “Are we talking about the witness-protection program here?”
Pete looked at Connie. “I thought you said…?”
Connie stared at the table.
“You’re in the witness-protection program and you’re going to testify at a trial soon?” Nikki put down her fork.
“Shit.” Pete did not look happy. “Connie?”
“I said I thought she guessed as much.” Connie said.
“What’s the chance of your bad guys finding us here?”
“Next to nothing.” Pete was still giving Connie the stink eye.
Tony’s gaze swiveled back and forth, like watching a tennis match. Poor kid had endured months of silence and now hearing this information spill out was probably thrilling.
“How can you know that?” Nikki placed her palm on her belly.
“I don’t, but I’m very good at what I do, and this is considered a low-risk case. Unless someone is looking for us, and I seriously doubt that, and they know where we are out here on the ocean and are prepared to chase us in a boat, I’d say we’re safe.” Pete held his gaze on Nikki.
“How bad are your bad guys?” she wanted to know.
“They killed my husband,” Connie whispered.
“Oh, my God, Connie!”
Pete stepped in. “The risk is when we move her to Seattle for the trial. And we have that covered. You won’t be with us at that point. But don’t stay out of guilt because we had to leave Louisa Lake. Only stay with us if you feel safe.”
Connie jumped in. “I don’t honestly think my life is in danger, or Tony’s, but the DA wanted to take every precaution, before I testify. If anything, the Justice Department is being overly cautious.” She smiled at Pete.
There was a feeling of respect and fondness between Pete and Connie—something she hadn’t seen when she thought they were married. “How long do you need to stay hidden after the trial?”
“She can’t talk about that,” Pete said.
“What’s your real name, Connie?”
“Nikki.” Pete looked like he was chiding a bad kid. “Give it a rest.”
She wiped her mouth with a napkin. “Then try this one. What’s up with your laryngitis, Pete?” She stared at him.
“Vocal chord nodules.” He added, “Not contagious.”
“I’m well aware of vocal chord nodules and you need to stop talking to let them heal.”
“Do you see me talking a lot?” He threw out his arms.
Connie chuckled sympathetically at Pete.
“What do you want to do, Nikki? Stay with us a few more days or leave and tell no one about us?” They waited for her to make a decision.
Although Connie’s situation was different, both women would be starting a new life soon. Nikki had willingly chosen hers though, one she wanted desperately. Connie’s life had been chosen for her and was motivated by keeping herself and her child alive. If she left and someone knew she’d been with Connie, her life might be in more jeopardy. She took a deep breath, looked at her three companions and slapped the table. “What time is lunch?”
****
He’d kidnapped a world-famous celebrity. Hell, he’d either be called up for this or commended. Nothing in-between. His punishment might depend on Nikki’s view on being convinced to stay with them. The other marshals in the department would wonder if he’d kept the gorgeous rock star for reasons beyond helping her escape the press. He wondered too.
Pete pulled out the heavy nylon sails like he knew what he was doing and laid them on the sailboat’s deck. Hooking up those suckers and catching some wind would be fantastic. But with the manual in one hand, he soon realized how difficult it would be to sail this boat. Especially without knowledge or crew. He closed the book Sailing for Dummies.
According to what the Department told him that morning, Connie wouldn’t be called to testify for a few more days. He had the time to read up on sailing while they waited. And Nikki was staying. Elvis sniffed the air at the bow, keeping watch like the beast he was, making Pete wonder why he’d never used a dog before on missions. Canines had better senses than a human when it came to smelling or hearing an oncoming intruder.
Connie and Nikki talked in the stern, at the seating area, while Tony set up a board game between them. Over the last month, Connie had probably missed talking to another adult. Pete hadn’t been much company, not wanting to get too close. And his vocal nodules. Many times over the last weeks, Pete had wanted to engage Tony in a game of chess or something, but stopped himself. That wasn’t his job and he had to stay focused. Brandon would have been Tony’s age now, but that didn’t mean he had to befriend the kid. In a few days, they’d go to Seattle where Connie would become someone else’s responsibility. Then she’d be gone to wherever the witness protection program sent them.
“You’re doomed,” Tony yelled.
“Have a heart, Tony,” Nikki said.
Pete saw the Stratego game on the table. Abandoning the sails, he meandered back to watch. Nikki got along really well with Tony, and, aside from adding levity to this adventure, she was just plain fun to stare at. “You saw my flag.” When she stood up to point at the Stratego board, he noticed a little baby bump that her hip-hugging pants couldn’t hide. She was definitely pregnant. He’d tried to put that information away somewhere last night, but why? Embarrassment for her because of how she presented the information? She’d been embarrassed, but he reminded himself that Nikki wasn’t his, just because he’d kissed her twice.
If he could take back that shower kiss he would, simply because she’d thought he was a married man. But he’d gotten a lot of mileage out of the memory of it. The way she sighed against his cheek when he pulled back. Now he’d like to kiss her again, to see how much better it was knowing Connie wasn’t his wife. Nikki’s pregnancy didn’t dampen his interest at all. Hell, he’d made mistakes in the past and been forgiven, even when he didn’t deserve it. And he’d fathered a baby when the timing was less than perfect. The memory of that would never go away, he’d realized. It just moved aside to let new memories in. Memories that didn’t involve Marnie or the baby. Or Brandon’s death.
When they finally weaned Marnie off the tranquilizers, she’d wanted to get as far away as possible. “I can’t stay here anymore,” she’d said, and he foolishly thought she was suggesting they move to another town.
“I’ll put in for a transfer.”
“No, Pete. I’m leaving. Going back to New Orleans, without you.” Her stoic expression frightened him.
He’d let her go. It didn’t matter that what he needed the most after Brandon’s death was Marnie. It didn’t matter that the only family he had was his wife of two years. He’d have to cut all ties for the sake of her survival. When he found out she remarried a year later, he’d been grateful. That’s when the real healing began.
Life was supposed to go on, but dating was out of the question. No woman wanted to take on a cynical U.S. Marshal and he couldn’t blame them. The fear of hurting again kept him from any emotion beyond the least amount needed in the bedroom. He was better off alone.
Pete packed away the sails. He’d learn to sail another day. What was he even thinking? A new game of Stratego had been set up, and Nikki was helping Connie conquer Tony’s warriors. The sound of their laughter made him smile, but he resisted the urge to join them, knowing his presence would change the dynamics. Nikki was a nice addition to their group. Before her, no one laughed. It was like she’d brought the fun with her. For a rock star, she was surprisingly personable. Not aloof, like the models and celebrities he’d been assigned to during his career as a marshal.
Pete zipped up the sail bags and considered the little dog who’d taken a shining to him. “Elvis, can you learn to sail and teach me?” The dog tilted his head as far as Pete guessed it would go, and stared
. Pete laughed out loud. “Man to man, Elvis.” He bent down to scratch the dog’s ears. “Does your Mom think I’m a jerk, or what?” He glanced back at Nikki and realized that even her giggle sounded musical. “I think I’m growing on her, don’t you?”
****
Food from a can was surprisingly tasty when you didn’t have much else. Some of the canned soups Pete had stored in his sailboat cupboards were downright yummy. Just add water. Easy enough. With supplies rationed, Nikki hoped she wasn’t eating more than her share. Pete had joked that Nikki would be eating them dry at this rate and if they were lucky they’d have another few hours.
“Sounds like you’ve been around pregnant ladies before,” Nikki joked while they did dishes.
“If you’re having ice cream cravings, I’m afraid you’re just going to have more baked potato soup.” He smiled at her.
“In my first trimester, I couldn’t stand the smell of most food, especially fish, but I’m craving it now.” She searched his face for a clue. He hadn’t said if he’d been married, just that he and Connie weren’t married. The mystery of his personal life was driving her crazy, as was the brick wall that went up anytime she asked him anything personal. “I had vocal chord nodules once.” Was this a safe subject? “Chinese herbs did the trick. Saved me from surgery. You can buy the tea at health food stores. You should try it.”
“I will if you’ll make it for me.”
“Deal.” Had they just set up a date to meet after they were free from this adventure?
Nikki washed the last dish and let the water drain out of the steel sink. “Can I ask you a personal question?”
“You can ask.”
“Why did you buy a sailboat if you can’t sail?”
“Oh, you noticed, did you?” Pete chuckled and set down his towel, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms across his chest. “Sailing is my dream. When I got stationed on the west coast, I started looking for a boat,” he smiled. “I’m going to learn to sail.”