She pushed away from his chest and stared at him, excitement dancing in her eyes. “But that’s good.”
“Good?” There had been nothing good about his scare. His heart still bludgeoned his chest like a jackhammer.
She wiggled from his embrace and stood with her hands on her hips. “Not good that I died in the dream. Good that the dream didn’t come true.”
The significance of her words struck him. “My dreams aren’t inevitable.”
She nodded, then returned to his arms and snuggled against him. “And I don’t ever have to leave you again.”
Her luminous eyes made promises beyond words. No woman had ever looked at him that way, and he fought for breath against the unaccustomed pressure in his chest. He grazed her silky throat with his lips and worked his way upward toward the sweetness of her mouth, pouring out his love, reveling in her acceptance.
Tires skidded to a halt on the drive, and reluctantly he released her and rose to meet the arrivals. A wildeyed McSwain strode through the open door, followed by Sheriff Tillett, whose beefy face glowed red.
“What the hell happened out there?” Tillett demanded.
Jared raked his hands through his hair. “Letter bomb.”
“Holy—” Catching sight of Tyler, Tillett squelched his curse and turned to his deputy. “Get on the radio and request the postal inspectors. And notify the FBI and ATF while you’re at it.”
As McSwain rushed out the door, Tillett swiveled back to Jared. “Now, Mr. Slater, you have a lot of explaining to do. Who blasted a hole the size of a swimming pool in your front yard?”
Tyler picked up the blood-stained towel and scooted toward the kitchen. “It’s a long story, Sheriff. I’ll make some coffee.”
Tillett grasped her arm as she passed. “You okay? Every time I see you, you’ve been knocked on the head.”
Her face twisted in an ironic smile. “Occupational hazard, but I’m fine.”
Jared’s heart swelled with pride at her spirit. She was even braver than he’d assumed when he first met her. No wonder he loved her.
He gestured the sheriff toward a chair and sat opposite him. “I don’t know how much you’ll believe, but I’d appreciate if you’d listen to the whole story.”
Tillett nodded, and Jared launched into the tale of his strange dreams, leaving nothing out—from his first dream in the hospital, to their final visit with Sam Witek in the Massachusetts nursing home.
When Jared finished, Tillett refused more coffee from Tyler and set aside his cup. “A year ago, I’d have thought you had a screw loose, Slater, but, by God, I believe you’re telling the truth.”
“What makes you so willing to accept my story?” Jared had feared the pragmatic Tillett would be the last person to give credence to his dreams.
The sheriff tugged at the starched collar of his uniform. “Last summer a young couple down by the lake lost their four-year-old boy when he wandered off into the woods. We rounded up a search party of over a hundred volunteers and combed the mountainside. Twenty-four hours later, we’d found no trace of him.”
“Was he kidnapped?” Tyler asked.
“That’s what we feared,” the sheriff said. “But the kid’s mother refused to believe it. She contacted a psychic in Virginia Beach and flew her here to help our search. I considered psychics either charlatans or weirdos—”
Jared winced at the description.
“But I figured if she helped calm the boy’s mother, what harm could she do?” Tillett’s lips curved in a self-effacing grin. “The psychic arrived—a little old lady in tennis shoes who reminded me of my grandmother. Within two hours, she led us straight to the child, asleep under a rock ledge on a sector of the mountain we’d already searched. Damnedest thing I’ve ever seen in all my years of law enforcement.”
“Then you’ll go after Stanwick?” Tyler asked. “The bomb had to come from him. He must have sent it after he lost track of us when we flew to Massachusetts.”
“We’ll bring him in for questioning,” Tillett promised. He cocked his head at the hum of vehicles approaching. “That must be the federal boys and their forensics crew now.”
“I’ll make sandwiches,” Tyler said, “and more coffee. Looks like it’s going to be a long afternoon.”
PETE STANWICK STOOD in front of the cold drink compartment of the grocery at the foot of the mountain and studied his altered appearance in the glass door. Brown dye covered his gray-streaked black hair, a close shave had removed all traces of his beard, and aviator sunglasses hid his bloodshot eyes.
He removed a can of Mountain Dew from the cooler and carried it to the checkout counter. He was the only customer in the store.
“You from outta town?” the young man at the cash register asked in a making-conversation tone.
“Raleigh,” Stanwick lied.
“Kinda early in the season for tourists.” The clerk rang up the soda.
Stanwick handed him a five. “I’m not on vacation. I’m a botanist at N.C. State. Been collecting wildflower specimens up the mountain.”
“You and half the county been on that mountain today.” The clerk counted out his change.
“I noticed the sheriff’s cars and some other official-looking vehicles.” Stanwick nodded at the scanner radio on the shelf behind the clerk. “You know what’s going on?”
The clerk folded his arms on the counter and leaned forward conspiratorially. “Most excitement we’ve had in years. Somebody got a mail bomb. Blew away a chunk of the mountaintop.”
“No kidding.” Stanwick made a sympathetic clucking sound. “Anybody hurt?”
“Not that I can tell from the scanner, and I haven’t seen an ambulance—or a hearse.”
Stanwick glanced down at his Mountain Dew, where his tightened fist dented the can. Slater had more lives than a cat, but even a cat had to die sometime. He reached into his pocket for the keys of the battered pickup he’d stolen in north Georgia and headed toward the door.
“Hey, mister,” the clerk called.
Startled, Stanwick halted. “Yeah?”
“You come back now, you hear?”
IN THE GLARE OF THE outside floodlights, Tyler watched Jared nail a plywood panel over the last of the gaping holes where glass had once been. The concussion of the blast had shattered every window in the house, including the small panes in the French doors leading to the loft balcony.
She thrust away thoughts of the recent explosion and her close call with death, concentrating on Jared’s skill with tools, and the fluid grace of the bare muscles of his torso as he hefted sheets of plywood and wielded his hammer. She hadn’t expected such proficiency from a journalist, but Jared continued to surprise her with his talents.
“That should keep out rain and cold until the glass is replaced.” He tucked the hammer into his tool belt, climbed over the balcony railing and descended the ladder.
“If you don’t mind sleeping in a cave,” Tyler observed.
“Where’s your sense of romance?” he teased as he shrugged on his shirt against the encroaching chill. “We can have candlelight at noon under these conditions.”
Her thoughts took a more practical turn. “And we’ll be safer, boarded up like Fort Knox.”
He flung an arm around her shoulders and hugged her close as they circled to the front of the house. “We have our personal bodyguard, remember?”
He pointed to the deputy, stationed in the cruiser parked across the drive, before gathering his power saw and plywood scraps and stowing them in the garage.
She avoided the sight of the gaping hole and broken tree trunks on the mountainside, circled by fluttering yellow police tape. She’d come close to dying today, at a time when she’d discovered she had everything to live for. Her happiness with Jared, fueled by his love, seemed too perfect to last, and she wouldn’t rest easy until Pete Stanwick was behind bars, no longer a threat to the man she loved.
She followed Jared into the house. “Stanwick has to find out sooner or later tha
t the bomb didn’t harm you. What will he do then?”
He smoothed back her hair. “Authorities all over the eastern half of the country are searching for him. Unless he’s invisible, they’ll catch him soon.”
“I hope you’re right.” She sagged against him, wrung dry of emotion and energy by the events of the day.
He enfolded her in a rough embrace before scooping her into his arms. “It’s late and you’re exhausted. I’m putting you to bed.”
Encircling his neck with her arms, she leaned back and studied his face, her lips quirked in a flirtatious smile. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve said all day.”
He carried her up the loft stairs and placed her on the bed. “While you get out of those clothes, I’ll bring up your bags.”
When she came out of the bathroom minutes later, her suitcases rested on a chest at the foot of the bed, and he’d laid her warm gown across the pillow. She tossed the clothes she’d removed across a chair, slipped into the flannel gown, and slid between the sheets. The comforting weight of Jared on the other side of the bed registered vaguely on her consciousness before she drifted into a sound sleep.
She awakened to pitch-darkness and a hand over her mouth.
“Keep quiet—” Jared’s lips moved against her ear “—and get dressed—quick!”
She scrambled to the foot of the bed, groped for her clothes and jerked them on with trembling hands. Over the rush of blood in her ears, she detected scratching sounds at the front door, as if someone attempted to force the lock.
As she searched the floor for her second shoe, she sensed Jared’s presence before he leaned close again.
“The phone’s dead,” he whispered, “so we can’t call for help.”
“What about the deputy?” She winced when her voice sounded louder than she’d intended.
“If it’s Stanwick out there—” He left her to her own conclusions. “Find your sweater.”
She tied the last shoelace and fumbled for her pullover. “Do you have a gun?”
He grabbed her hand and touched it to the pistol in his belt. “He may not give me a chance to use it. Our best bet is to run.”
The scratching sound at the front door ceased.
She jerked her hand from the weapon. “But if Stanwick’s outside, where do we run?”
“Where he least expects us.”
Disoriented by the darkness, she allowed him to guide her. When a crack of light glimmered, she recognized the balcony door. Jared pushed her through it, stepped onto the deck in the faint moonlight, and closed the door behind him.
“There.” He pointed with a whisper to the ladder he’d used to install the plywood. “Down you go.”
She hung back, gripping his arm, while dark fear gnawed at her insides. “I forgot to tell you—I’m afraid of heights.”
“I’ll go first and stay right behind you. You’ll be fine.” He swung over the railing onto the ladder. “Come on.”
The thought of confronting Pete Stanwick propelled her onto the ladder, but once she was suspended on the precarious perch a story above the ground, she froze with panic. She tried to reassure herself, but perspiration slicked her palms, and mental images of falling through nothingness consumed her.
“Easy.” Jared moved up behind her, his arms bracing hers, his chest pressing against her buttocks. “Breathe deep, move with me, and don’t look down.”
Soothed by his presence, she inched her way down, exhaling with relief when her feet hid solid ground.
Jared pointed to a dense stand of evergreens at the back of his lot. “Run for cover and wait for me.”
“But—”
“Do it!” He shoved her toward the trees.
She ran, stumbling over the uneven earth, terrified that at any moment Stanwick would appear to gun down Jared, who stood exposed in the open yard.
When she reached the trees, she plunged into the thick branches, where the resinous scent of pine filled her nostrils, battling with the coppery stench of fear. She peered through the cover of evergreen toward the house. Jared’s shadowy figure blurred against the house as he moved toward a shed by the back door. He disappeared inside.
Seconds seemed to stretch into hours while she waited. When Jared slipped from the shed and dashed across the yard with a murky bundle across his shoulders, she expelled the breath she’d been holding. He crashed into the branches and dropped his burden at her feet.
“What’s that?” she whispered.
“Our ticket out of here.” He pulled on a pair of heavy gloves, fastened some kind of harness around his hips, and hefted his bundle again. “Come on. We’re running out of time.”
She followed him a few yards through the trees into a clearing. Behind her, the evergreen forest formed a dark barrier between them and the house. Before her, a rock cliff, a sheer fall of over sixty feet, dropped toward the valley. Her head swam dizzily from the height, and her stomach clutched with nausea.
In the clearing’s bright moonlight, she identified the nylon rope looped over Jared’s shoulder. He fastened it to a stanchion at the cliff’s edge and unfurled it. With disturbing fascination, she watched it drop down the cliffside.
“I’ll tie you to me,” he said, “and we can rappel down together.”
“Are you crazy?” she hissed. “I could barely force myself to climb down a ladder, and you expect me to dive off a cliff?”
She flinched as bursts of gunfire erupted behind them in the house, and a man’s angry shouts echoed in the night.
“We have two choices,” Jared said. “Go over the cliff or face Stanwick. Which will it be?”
Paralyzed by apprehension, she couldn’t answer.
He seized her face in his gloved hands. “You have to trust me, Tyler.”
His love gave her strength. She would trust him with her life. She choked back a sob.
“The cliff,” she agreed.
He knelt with his back to her and she climbed on, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. With quick, practiced movements, he lashed her to him.
Standing with an ease that testified to the strength of his legs, he strode to the cliff edge and grasped the rope. “Don’t look down.”
She stifled an hysterical laugh. She wasn’t about to look down or anywhere else. She hid her face in his neck. In the next instant, she was hurtling through space.
Oh, God, she thought. The rope isn’t holding and we’re plummeting to the cliff base.
Just as she opened her lips to scream, the impact of Jared’s feet against the rock face jolted her.
“You’re doing fine,” he assured her. “This won’t take long. I’ve done it hundreds of times, then I practice climbing back to the top.”
Again they fell through emptiness, with the rope sliding through Jared’s gloves. His boots thudded against the cliff wall as he pushed off for another plunge, and air whistled past them as they dropped. Above, the patter of gunfire continued.
With each stage of the descent, Tyler’s heart leaped to her throat, threatening to bang its way out of her body.
“What’s he shooting at?” she whispered as Jared paused to push off.
“Don’t know, but let’s hope he keeps it up.”
“Why?”
“As long as he’s shooting up the house, he hasn’t found the stanchion that holds the rope.”
Dizzy with fright, she gripped Jared tighter, thankful for the harness that bound her to him. But if Stanwick sawed the line Jared held, they would both pitch to their deaths on the rocks below.
“We’re almost there.” His words came in small pants as he gasped from exertion.
He shoved away from the escarpment again, and they sank like stones. After what seemed an eternity in free fall, Jared’s boots struck the ground, jarring Tyler’s bones. With a swift movement, he untied the restraint that lashed her to him, and she slid onto the ground in a heap, her muscles quivering with relief.
Pulling hand-over-hand, Jared reined in the line fr
om the mountainside, coiled the rope and stashed it in a clump of rhododendron. “No need to let Stanwick know how we escaped.”
He lifted her to her feet and she leaned into him, reveling in the solid warmth of his arms and the sensation of firm ground beneath her shoes. She had trusted him, and he had brought her to safety.
“What now?” she asked.
He brushed a too-quick kiss across her lips. “We find a phone to alert the authorities. We’ll have to hike to Sweeney’s farm in the valley.”
The trembling in her legs had eased. “I’m ready—”
A buzzing whine erupted on the boulder beside her as a bullet ricocheted, and rock chips stung her face.
“I’ll get you, Slater! You can’t run from me!” The tortured scream drifted down from the top of the cliff and echoed across the valley. Above Jared and Tyler, moonlight silhouetted an ominous shadow.
They ran into the cover of the forest just as Stanwick fired into the surrounding foliage, emptying his gun. The close call made Tyler giddy.
“We’re not safe yet. Keep low and keep moving.” Jared shoved her ahead, deeper into the trees.
Branches whipped her face, and crawling vines clutched at her feet as she stumbled to keep up with him. When the terrain descended sharply, she sat, scooting on her bottom down the steep slopes, brushing dogwood foliage from her path. When she slowed, Jared matched his pace to hers.
After endless hiking, she collapsed beside a tiny creek that bubbled down the mountainside to the lake, and cupped icy water in her hands to drink and to cool her heated cheeks. Drying her hands on her jeans, she massaged her aching calves. “Why don’t we use the road?”
Jared stooped on the mossy bank and splashed his face with the frigid water. “Too easy for Stanwick to spot us in the open.”
She nodded. She’d survived the cliff descent, battling her worst fears. She could struggle through the rhododendron a few more miles.
He rose and offered his hand, pulling her to her feet and against him in one motion. The fierceness of his embrace drove the breath from her body. “I won’t let him harm you, Tyler, I promise.”
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