“How did you know?” she asked. “How did you know I was in trouble?” She knew Hank couldn’t have been the one shooting at her, but why was he always around when she found herself in danger?
He kept his gaze divided between the highway in front of them and the rearview mirror. “I was standing outside the barn and heard the sound of a shot. I knew with all the activity in the barn it was a perfect opportunity for somebody to try to get at you.”
“Whoever it was, they got into the house first.” Thank God she’d heard the muffled sound of the kitchen door clicking shut. If she hadn’t…if she hadn’t grabbed Brook and run to her room, she knew without a doubt Abby and Belinda would have discovered her body in the middle of the living room floor. “Whoever it was, I heard them come in and I grabbed Brook and ran to my room. I didn’t know what else to do.”
“That was quick thinking. I’m sure it saved your life.”
She looked at him, searching his face. Lines of tension cut across his forehead, slashed down his cheeks, only adding to his brutal attractiveness. “Hank, do you know what’s going on? Do you know why this is happening to me?”
“We’ll talk later.” His gaze was intent on the rearview mirror.
“Are we being followed?” Colette asked, turning around to peer behind them. She saw nothing.
“I’m not sure. We’ll drive for a little while to make sure nobody is following us. These people mean business and now the gloves are off.”
Again she focused back on him. “Maybe we should go back. Everyone will wonder what happened. Abby and Belinda will be wild with fear. I’m sure Abby has called the sheriff by now. Surely he can straighten all of this out.”
Hank didn’t answer.
His silence filled Colette with a strange, gut-wrenching dread. She had the feeling she’d somehow jumped from the hot skillet into the roaring fire. “Hank? You need to take me back home.” She heard the desperation heavy in her voice, the slight tremor that spoke of a near loss of control. “Abby and Belinda will be worried sick about me. We need to tell the sheriff what happened, let him deal with it.”
“We aren’t going back, Colette.”
She stared at him, wondering if her recent trauma had somehow affected her hearing. “What do you mean? Of course we’re going back.”
He shook his head. “No, Colette. You’re going to have to trust me.”
“Trust you? I don’t even know you,” she exclaimed, the dread exploding into full-fledged panic. She swallowed hard, refusing to give in to the hysteria that beckoned her. “If you aren’t taking me back to the ranch, then just where do you think you’re taking me?”
He hesitated a moment, then turned and looked at her, his eyes dark with secrets. “California. I’m taking you back to San Bernardino.”
CHAPTER TEN
She stared at him in horror. California? Was it possible Hank worked for Cameron Collier? That he was a hired hand paid to return Colette to the man who apparently wanted her dead?
Half blind with panic, she fumbled to open the passenger door, needing to run, escape from him. With a hissed curse, he reached across the seat and grabbed her arm.
“What are you trying to do, kill yourself? Or maybe you think you can jump from a speeding car with a baby in your arms and both of you will be just fine?”
As if on cue, Brook began to wail. Colette released her hold on the door handle and hugged the baby tight. Oh, God, he was right. She swallowed hard against the panic, realizing that for the moment she was helpless to do anything to change what was happening. She couldn’t risk jumping from the car and he didn’t seem to be in the mood to pull over and let her out.
Her mind whirled, more clear than it had been in hours. California was a long way from here. If she bided her time and was patient, an opportunity for escape would surely present itself.
She stroked Brook’s dark hair, her gaze divided between the baby in her arms and the man driving the car. Why hadn’t she suspected he might be more than he appeared? Why hadn’t she been more wary of his sensual charm, his seductive behavior?
Beneath his harsh good looks, she now recognized a steely strength that could only radiate from a cold, hard heart. She’d tasted the warmth of his kiss without realizing the bitterness of cold calculation that hid beneath.
Damn her for being a fool. She’d reacted to him as a female when she should have responded with more wariness. “Why are you taking me to California? Do you work for Cameron Collier?”
His dark gaze shot to her. “How do you know Cameron Collier? Is your memory returning?”
“No. Abby told me I was working for him in California and yesterday I called his office. So, do you work for him or not?”
“No, Colette.” He turned and flashed her a tight smile. “I’m one of the good guys.”
One of the good guys? Then why were his eyes filled with such secrets? Why did she get the feeling he spoke only half-truths? And why, oh, why, if he was a good guy did something about him still cause a responding sense of dread, of deep betrayal in her?
“I think the best thing to do is find a motel to hole up in for the night, then we can take off fresh in the morning,” he said more to himself than to her. “Once we get settled in someplace, I’ll explain everything to you, but at the moment you’d better buckle up your seat belt because I think we’ve got a tail.”
Colette whirled around in the seat and looked behind them, where a car sped toward them, road dust whirling from the tires. The car was still too far away for her to discern make or color, but it was gaining fast. She hurriedly buckled her seat belt, wishing there was a car seat for Brook.
Hank pressed on the gas pedal, his knuckles white as his entire body tensed. Colette could almost feel the adrenaline flooding through him, radiating off him as the car behind them came closer…closer. It was now close enough that she could tell it was a dark blue sedan, but too far away to see the driver. “Do you recognize the car?” she asked.
He shook his head. “No. But that doesn’t mean anything. There are a dozen places on the ranch it could have been parked and nobody would have seen it.”
“Maybe he’s just in a hurry and wants to pass us,” she said optimistically. “Maybe you’re being paranoid and he has nothing to do with us.”
“I don’t think so. Get down.” The last two words were a staccato command accompanied by him pulling her head and shoulders down in the space between them on the seat. At the same moment Colette heard a sound like the crack of backfire.
She squeezed her eyes tightly closed, realizing the sound was gunfire. She screamed as the car careened, throwing her first against the passenger door, then hard up against Hank’s thigh.
Brook stopped crying, apparently lulled by the crazy back and forth motion of the car. For a moment the only sounds were the roar of the car engine, Hank’s steady breathing and Colette’s heartbeat pounding in her ear.
Colette refused to believe her life would end here, on a narrow two-lane highway, never knowing the father of her child or the reason for her death.
“If we can just get into the city, we can get lost amid the other traffic. Out here we’re sitting ducks,” Hank said, then muttered a curse as another shot rang out.
“If you haven’t passed it yet, there’s a road on the left that’s a shortcut into Cheyenne. It’s right after a big white house with a mailbox that looks like a barn. The road looks like nothing more than a cow path, but it’s a straight shot into the center of Cheyenne.”
Hank shot her a suspicious look. “How do you know that?”
How did she? She had no idea. “I don’t know, it’s one of the crazy things I do remember. Believe me, Hank. At the moment the guy behind us with the gun is a much bigger problem than you are. Why would I lie about the road?”
He didn’t answer. “If we can just keep far enough away from him, he can’t do much damage. In a little while it will be dark and that will work in our favor.”
He was right. Colette hadn’t r
ealized the golden hue of twilight had deepened to the purple shadows of dusk’s last gasp. She prayed for the sweet darkness of night in which to hide.
First she and Hank would hide from the man with the gun, then once that danger had passed, she and Brook would hide from Hank.
* * *
HANK YANKED the wheel for a hard left when he spotted the road Colette had told him about. He grunted in satisfaction as he saw that the car behind them didn’t make the turn. Good. Although he knew their pursuer would quickly right his error, even a moment of time might give them the lead they needed to evade him.
He only hoped Colette hadn’t been foolish enough to lie to him about where this particular road led. He looked down to where Colette was still hunched, half lying on the seat next to him, her head pressed against his thigh.
Her hair was a chestnut spill against his faded blue jeans and her perfume filled the interior of the car. Despite the tenseness of their predicament, Hank felt a stir of desire.
He gripped the steering wheel more tightly, fighting down the emotion. It had been his selfish lust that had gotten things so screwed up in the first place. He didn’t intend to make the same mistake again.
He’d always been very good at control, and he intended to maintain tight control on himself and the situation until Colette’s role in this particular drama was over. Then he’d walk away, as always unscathed and alone.
Although he’d intended to use seduction to get her to leave the ranch with him, seduction was no longer necessary, and in fact would only further complicate matters.
Pressing on the gas pedal in an attempt to lengthen their lead, he glanced in the rearview mirror, satisfied that for the moment no other cars were in sight. Still, he knew for the next couple of weeks he’d have his work cut out for him.
Cameron Collier was a powerful man, with long arms for vengeance, and he wouldn’t rest until Colette was eliminated. Collier would spare no expense, no manpower, to find them. For the next sixteen days, Hank knew he and Colette would find themselves the rodents in a deadly game of cat and mouse.
He breathed a sigh of relief as houses and traffic began to appear, letting him know they were approaching the city limits.
Within minutes darkness had fallen completely and Hank began to relax. “You can sit up now,” he said.
She pulled herself upright and looked around, visibly relaxing as she realized they’d made it into town. “What do we do now?”
“We drive around for a while, make sure we don’t have a tail, then find someplace to hole up for the night.”
“Hank, please just take me back to the ranch.” Her eyes were wide, glazed with suppressed tears. “I—we’ll pay you. My sisters and I will give you whatever you want.”
“I don’t want money. Besides, with the financial state of that ranch, you and your sisters couldn’t get up a decent ransom between you,” he scoffed. “This isn’t about money. It’s about murder.”
“Murder?” Colette’s voice squeaked and Hank damned himself for saying it so bluntly.
“I told you, I’ll explain everything when we get settled someplace for the night.”
“Then you better get us settled right now because I want some answers,” Colette retorted.
Yes, it was time to get settled for the night, time for Colette to get some answers. He was aware that he walked a fine line. Too few answers and she wouldn’t understand her place in the scheme of things, too many answers and she’d run the first chance she got.
A lot of people were depending on her to get her memory back, but with it would come memories that would make her hate him. He’d just have to deal with her hate, he had to keep focused on the importance of the bigger picture, not the frailty of human emotions.
Confident that they were not being followed, Hank pulled into the parking lot of the Sleepy-Time Motel. “Not exactly four stars, but it will do for the night,” he said. He hesitated before getting out.
If he went into the office to rent a room, would she and the baby still be here in the car when he came back out?
The alternative was to take her inside with him, inside where she could scream that he’d kidnapped her, inside where she could make a scene. The last thing he needed was anything that would draw attention to them.
He had to trust that her curiosity alone would keep her with him until she got some answers. “Once we’re in the room, I’ll tell you everything,” he said as he got out of the car.
Colette watched him walk into the office and knew now was her chance to escape. All she had to do was find a phone, call Abby, and her sisters would come and get her. But she hesitated.
Hank had led her to believe he held all the answers to everything that had haunted her from the moment she’d become conscious in that motel room in Las Vegas. She desperately needed those answers. If she ran now, she’d never know what, exactly, she was running from.
If I don’t run now, I’m a fool, she told herself. Who knew when another opportunity for escape would present itself? She opened the car door, the noise awakening Brook, who yelled an angry yowl.
As she saw Hank returning to the car, she realized the opportunity to escape was lost. She’d taken too long to make up her mind. She slammed her door, at the same time soothing Brook. Hopefully the chance for escape would come once again.
“Room 124,” he said as he scooted into the driver seat.
When they found the room, she wondered if he’d specifically asked for one in the back, where their car would not be visible from the main road.
The room was typical of every cheap motel room in every city in every state of the union. Two full-size beds covered in worn gold spreads, a nightstand scarred with stains and cigarette burns and, beneath their feet, gold shag carpeting merely added to the depressing decor. The whole room seemed to breathe deep hopelessness, abiding despair.
Colette placed Brook, who had fallen asleep, into the center of one of the beds, then turned and looked at Hank expectantly. “Okay, we’re here. We’re settled. Now I want some answers.”
Hank kicked off his boots and stretched out on the bed, his arms crossed behind his head. His posture was unconsciously sensual, evoking a whisper of déjà vu in Colette as his dark eyes played over her.
Had he looked at her that way the night they’d supposedly had their one-night stand? Had his eyes been so sensually dark and hot, so filled with suppressed emotions? Or was she remembering another time, another man? She pushed these thoughts aside, needing to focus on the main issue.
“You told me in the car that you’re one of the good guys. So, what exactly does that mean?”
He reached into his back pocket and withdrew his wallet. He flipped it open and tossed it to the foot of the bed. It remained open, displaying a badge and an identification card.
Colette picked it up and read the card. Hank Cooper. U.S. Marshal. She threw the wallet back to him. “Just because you’re a marshal doesn’t mean you’re one of the good guys,” she replied, although in truth this piece of information took the edge off her fear of him.
“True, I suppose. But in your case, I’m on your side.”
Colette sat on the edge of the bed where he remained stretched out. “So, exactly what is my case?”
He sat up and plumped the pillows behind his shoulders. Colette eyed him suspiciously, wondering if he was stalling to get his story straight or if he’d merely been uncomfortable.
He settled back once again, his gaze unwavering on her. “In less than three weeks you are scheduled to appear in court to give testimony against Cameron Collier on murder charges.”
Although somehow in some deep part of her his words didn’t surprise her, a chill waltzed up her spine. “Murder charges? Did I see the murder?” she asked. Certainly the trauma of seeing somebody killed would explain her amnesia. She wouldn’t want to remember such a heinous thing.
Hank shook his head. “You didn’t see the murder, but you heard the payoff between Collier and the man he hired. It
was a contract killing.”
She’d been working late when she heard voices coming from Mr. Collier’s office. The dream that had haunted Colette night after night suddenly made perfect sense.
It had been her memories reaching out to her in the darkness of night, in the fragments of dreams. “I remember…bits and pieces. Hearing something that frightened me, then somebody chasing me.”
“You managed to get away and went directly to the police. They immediately made arrangements to put you with us in protective custody.”
“When…when was this?” she asked as she wrapped her arms around herself, fighting against an inner chill. “When did all of this happen?”
He sat up, his gaze moving from her to the baby on the opposite bed. “About seven months ago. We knew Collier would try to get to you. I was assigned to make sure that didn’t happen.”
“Who was killed? Who was the victim?” she asked, her head reeling.
“A city councilman who intended to vote some zoning that Collier didn’t like. Apparently Collier tried to buy him off first. When that didn’t work he decided to kill him.”
“So what happened? How did I end up alone in Las Vegas? How did I wind up back at the ranch?” Each answer he gave her called for more questions.
“I can’t answer that. All I know is we were in a hotel in California. I left to pick up some things and when I got back you were gone.”
She stared at him searchingly. Although he appeared perfectly relaxed, she sensed the tension of coiled muscles, the watchful wariness of a cunning animal. Again she had the sense that this man could be dangerous, that emotions like compassion, vulnerability…love…had no place in his life.
“When you turned up at the ranch, we figured that was the safest place for you until the trial. At least you’d be with your family.”
“Did we really have a one-night stand in Las Vegas?” she asked as she stood, too keyed up to sit still.
He averted his gaze from hers and grabbed his wallet, then tucked it back into his pocket. “Nah. I thought if I told you that you’d be more likely to come with me when it was time for us to head back to California.”
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