“Normally, no. You’re very capable. But nothing about this situation is ‘normal.’ You’ve never had to evade pursuit, and you’ve never had a baby before, either. If something happens to me—”
My hands tightened on the wheel. “Nothing is going to happen to you!”
Dan continued calmly, as if I hadn’t shouted. “But if it does, I don’t want you facing this alone. Ringo will protect you.”
“Ringo doesn’t like me.”
Dan paused for a beat. “Why do you say that?”
The memory of Ringo’s accusation twinged uncomfortably. “It’s nothing. Just a misunderstanding.” I bit my lip.
“Marianne?”
I needed to pee, so I took the exit for Ehrenburg, using the distraction as an excuse to avoid answering.
He wasn’t going to let me get away with that. “Tell me,” he insisted.
I didn’t want to say anything that would mess up his friendship with Ringo. They’d been tight for a long time. That was more important than my feelings. “Never mind. It’ll be good to know Ringo has my back, just in case.”
“What did he say?” Dan’s voice was cold and level, and I knew that if I didn’t tell him, my refusal to be open with him would fester.
“He said he knew I wasn’t in love with you.” I was glad I had to watch the road instead of see the hurt in his eyes.
Dan was silent for a moment. “That’s it?”
I shot him a quick glance. He wasn’t bothered by that? But why should he be? He’d known what he was getting into when we married. “Well, he warned me not to hurt you.” I drove slowly down the two-lane street. Ehrenburg looked like a one horse town.
He snorted. “That fits.”
“Fits with what?”
“Never mind.” He reached over and stroked my leg. “Listen, it’s not my place to tell you Ringo’s story, but he doesn’t trust women much.”
“I got that.”
“But he will watch out for you, if I’m not able.”
I didn’t much like the idea of someone who thought I was the spawn of Satan keeping an eye on me.
“Promise me that you’ll let him,” Dan demanded.
“But—”
“Promise me.”
I sighed heavily. “I promise.”
“Good girl.”
My temper flared again. “Oh! Could you be any more condescending?”
Dan laughed, then grabbed his ribs. “I could try.” He pointed to a sad looking diner up ahead. “Pull over there, woman.”
I rolled my eyes and did as he commanded. The little restaurant looked like the only place around that offered any hope of clean bathrooms.
On the radio Dennis DeYoung sang about “Babe” giving him strength and courage. I knew how that felt. I turned to face Dan. “It’s not true,” I said in a quiet voice. “What Ringo said. Not anymore. Not for a long time.”
Dan understood what I was saying. His eyes crinkled in a gentle smile. “I know, kiddo. I love you, too.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
DAN
Dan’s ribs were aching like a sonovabitch by the time they got to Lake Havasu, but although he had some serious drugs in the bug-out bags, he refused to take anything stronger than Tylenol. He had to stay sharp. Even though they’d ditched the Trust’s tracking device, he knew Kincaid would be putting a lot of manpower into finding Marianne. Dan would.
Dan directed Marianne to stop at the Motel 6 he’d stayed at before. He paid cash for one night, asking for a ground floor unit in the back, and tipping the manager for help with the bags. As much as he didn’t want to draw attention to himself and Marianne, he wanted his eight months pregnant wife shifting their bags even less. He probably could have managed it, but Marianne had threatened mayhem if he lifted anything heavier than a toothbrush and he knew better than to try.
Once settled in the room, though, Dan turned the tables on her. “Ringo won’t be here for a couple of hours. Lay down and get some rest.”
“I don’t think I can sleep. I have too many thoughts swirling around in my head, biting like flies.”
Dan was ready for her argument. “Just lie down for a while.” He pulled down the polyester bedspread, ignoring her glare. “You were up early and I feel bad that you had to drive the whole way.”
She harrumphed, but toed off her shoes and lay down, curling onto her side. “Aren’t you going to join me?”
He’d like nothing better than to wrap himself around her. He loved feeling Evan move within Marianne’s rounded tummy, but somebody had to keep watch. “No. I’m more comfortable sitting up.”
Her brow furrowed and she started to get up. “Are you in pain? Do you want me to get you something?”
“No, babe, I’m fine. Lie down. I’ll wake you later.”
It wasn’t long until her breathing shifted into the soft rhythm of sleep. Dan watched the tension leave her face, wishing it had never taken up residence there. She shouldn’t have to be dealing with all this uncertainty and worry. Not now. She ought to be feathering her nest, making sure all was in readiness for their son’s arrival—not be on the run from the very organization that had talked her into changing her life.
Dan quietly unzipped his duffle and got out his gun kit. He released the clip from his Colt .45, cleared the chamber, and began cleaning the weapon that years ago had grown to feel as familiar as his own hand.
Foxworth’s original plan had merit. Otherwise, Dan wouldn’t have agreed to participate, and he would have done his best to talk Marianne out of it, too. There’d been no reason to change it. But someone, probably Kincaid, had grown impatient. And now Marianne was cut off from her family just when she needed them most. And so was Dan.
He hated knowing that his grandmother and sister would worry about him. They’d worry about Marianne and the baby, too. If he and Marianne had accepted Kincaid’s offer, none of this would be happening. They would have given up the baby they’d spent nine months growing to love, gone their separate ways, returned to their former lives.
The thought of turning a child over to be groomed into the perfect tool made him sick. And he’d rather cut off his right hand than give up Marianne.
Dan smiled as he pushed the oiled rag down the barrel, remembering her shy confession of love. All the days spent picking out baby things, all the nights spent in each other’s arms, had told him the truth of her feelings, but he’d almost choked up when she finally admitted it. It had been all he could do to keep it light.
No, he couldn’t give her up.
He glanced over at her. Dark blond lashes feathered over the shadows of fatigue beneath her eyes, and one arm rested protectively over her belly. His throat tightened. She’d taken a long time to understand they were a real couple, but he’d committed himself to her well-being even before they’d spoken their vows. Marianne was his. No one would harm her or their child in any way. Not while he was alive.
Dan glanced at his watch. Ringo would be pulling into Havasu soon. He hated to wake Marianne, but he wasn’t going to leave her alone, so he rubbed her shoulder and murmured, “Time to get up, sweetheart.”
She blinked hard, trying to clear the sleep from her eyes. It was a testament to her muzziness that she let him help her sit up. The twinge from his ribs wasn’t too bad—he’d taken more Tylenol—easy enough to hide from his sleepy wife.
“Bathroom,” she said, and went in that direction.
When she returned, her face was damp and she looked more focused. “Did you get any rest?”
“I feel good,” he said, evading her question.
“You didn’t, did you? And yet you look cheerful.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “You don’t have to pretend with me.”
“Okay. Maybe not good, but better,” he admitted.
“It’s only been a day,” she chided. “Don’t push it.”
He liked the way she let her feelings show when she tried to boss him around. “Yes, ma’am.” He answered with false meekness.
She
snorted softly and insisted on changing the bandage over his sutures. Fortunately, the wound looked clean and only a little swollen.
Satisfied, Marianne followed Dan’s directions to The Crown and Farthing.
The restaurant was the same one he and Ringo had partied at a couple years ago, an American interpretation of an English pub, decorated with dark wood and etched glass, but with a relaxed atmosphere. Ringo was already waiting on the outside patio when Dan and Marianne arrived. A medium-sized dog with huge ears lay at his feet. When they approached, man and dog both stood up. While Ringo rose to his usual impressive height, the dog didn’t get much taller.
Dan suppressed a smirk of amusement as Ringo’s gaze fastened on Marianne’s huge belly, and his friend’s expression grew somewhat alarmed as she hugged him. The big man patted her back gingerly, as if a firm touch might make her drop the baby in his lap. After a moment, Dan took pity on him and offered a distraction. “Hey, man. Thanks for coming.”
Ringo’s eyes widened as he took in the bandage on Dan’s forehead and the stiff way he held himself. “You look a little worse for wear.”
“Nothing I can’t handle.”
His wife rolled her eyes and sat down. Ringo’s buff and white dog stood on her back legs to put her paws on Marianne’s knees, wagging her tail.
“Maisie! Down!” Ringo commanded.
The dog looked over her shoulder at Ringo as if to gauge whether he really meant it, then dropped her front feet back to the floor.
Marianne reached over her stomach to fondle the dog’s bat-like ears. “So this was the bitch you fell in love with last year? What kind of dog is she?”
Dan suppressed a smile as Ringo’s face filled with light and he leaned over to ruffle Maisie’s fur. His rough, tough friend was really a big softie. “She’s a Cardigan Welsh Corgi. I found her last year, hanging around the parking lot. Can you believe someone just dumped her here?”
“That’s terrible! But it looks like their stupidity is your gain.”
“That’s right, isn’t it Maisie? You were a mess back then. But now you’re a beauty, aren’t you, girl?” Then Ringo looked sharply at Marianne as if to measure whether she thought he was silly for loving a dog.
She just grinned back, clearly liking him better for it. Dan relaxed a little. He wanted these two people he cared for to like each other.
Ringo turned to Dan. “So, what’s going on?”
“I need you to take care of Marianne if something happens to me,” Dan said.
Marianne sucked in a breath, but Dan raised an eyebrow and speared her with a sharp look to remind her, you promised. She got the message, even if she didn’t look happy about it. She pressed her lips together and leaned back into her chair.
Ringo gave a quick nod. “Done. I told you that on the phone. Now it’s time for you to tell me what the fuck has your knickers in a twist.” Ringo glanced at Marianne. “Uh, pardon my French.”
She waved away his concern, and Ringo turned back to Dan, but the waitress interrupted by asking for their drink orders.
When she’d gone, Dan continued in a low voice. “The company Marianne and I work for thinks we’ve taken something they want. They think if they get rid of me, they can pressure Marianne into giving it to them.”
Ringo frowned. “If you stole something—”
“We didn’t. It doesn’t belong to them.”
“And you can’t go to the cops.” Ringo made it a statement, not a question.
“These are powerful people, with long arms and deep influence,” Dan said. “They act first and don’t bother getting forgiveness later. We need to disappear until the major players move on.”
Ringo leaned back in his chair, lifting the front legs off the floor. “I seem to remember that when we were discharged you said you wanted to settle down and live a nice, peaceful life.”
Dan’s smile was part grimace. “I got bored.”
“Right.” Ringo regarded Dan from under his bushy brows. “So what is this thing your bosses want from you so bad?”
Dan looked at Marianne. His friend was taking a risk for them. He deserved to know, but he wouldn’t share the info if his wife didn’t agree.
Ringo turned his dark eyes on Marianne.
She didn’t hesitate. “Our baby,” she said.
Ringo dropped the front legs of his chair back to the floor with a hard thump, and Maisie jumped. “What the—” Ringo closed his mouth with a sharp snap.
“Here’s the deal,” Dan said. “You remember the stuff that happened in Cambodia? I know you didn’t really believe me back then—”
“Hey—” Ringo started to object.
“Don’t sweat it,” Dan waved his hand. “You were unconscious. I probably wouldn’t believe it either if I hadn’t seen it. But I did, and those … beings are real. And Marianne’s baby will have a special connection to those kinds of creatures. One, in particular. And because of that, these guys that are after us want to control him. They want to use our son as a tool, a weapon.”
Ringo looked from Dan, to me, then back again. After a minute, he said, “First you called it ‘Marianne’s baby,’ and now you’re calling it ‘our son.’ Which is it?”
Annoyance sharpened Dan’s tone. “My name will be on Evan’s birth certificate. I’ll be the one teaching him to ride a bike and throw a ball and drive. That’s all you need to know.”
Ringo stared back at Dan for a moment, then shrugged. “That’s good enough for me.”
Dan relaxed. “The baby’s due in a month. We need to find some place to lay low for a couple of weeks. It should be out of the way, but not too far from a hospital in case Marianne goes into labor early.”
Ringo nodded. “I know just the place.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
MARIANNE
The place Ringo took us to was an enormous house on the lake. A small camera watched the entry as we approached, and Dan’s friend unlocked the door by entering a code on a keypad. As we walked into the foyer, I could see all the way through the great room with its cathedral tongue and groove ceiling and a wall of windows, to the water where a pleasure boat was moored at the private dock. Dan whistled and raised a brow in question.
Ringo shrugged, as if embarrassed. “It belongs to my uncle.”
“You never said you came from money,” Dan teased.
“I don’t.” Ringo’s tone was defensive.
“And yet you have the key code.”
Maisie looked from Ringo to Dan, then back to her master, as if watching a tennis match.
“My uncle lives in Vermont. He doesn’t get down here as much as he’d like, and he asked me to drive over to check on the place now and then. Make sure the property managers are doing their jobs.”
“How come you didn’t show me this last year?”
“I only bring high-class people like Marianne out here.”
Dan grinned. “And you didn’t have the key, then.”
Ringo chuckled. “That, too.”
The next day we got up late. Ringo cooked breakfast for us, then we took the boat out on the lake for a couple of hours. Maisie loved being on the water. She stood on the prow wearing a doggie life-vest, with her nose into the wind like a bowsprit.
Dan hated not being able to help with the mooring ropes, but Ringo scolded him the first time Dan reached for a line. “Don’t be a stupid ass, Collier! Your woman needs you whole as soon as possible. You won’t get there if you puncture a lung.”
“My ribs aren’t broken! They’re just bruised,” Dan complained, but he didn’t try to help again.
After lunch, I took a nap and didn’t get up until late-afternoon. I found the guys out on the dock, shooting the shit. I had a feeling they changed the subject as soon as they saw me, and shortly afterward Ringo left for the kitchen to whip up an early dinner. I couldn’t imagine how he was going to protect me in Dan’s absence if he couldn’t stand to be around me. Hopefully, I’d never find out.
The kitchen boasted ev
ery possible hi-tech culinary gizmo ever invented, and Ringo apparently knew how to use them all. An hour later we settled in to watch television while enjoying the best chicken marsala I’d ever eaten. Ringo claimed “cook’s privilege” and insisted we watch “Buck Rogers in the 25th Century” as his reward.
The next day followed pretty much the same pattern, except the guys spent the afternoon watching football and drinking beer. I couldn’t sit still. Braxton Hicks contractions were pinching uncomfortably. The western Arizona weather was mild even in early November, so I snapped the leash on Maisie’s collar.
Dan looked up sharply at the sound, and started to rise, apparently not the least bit drunk.
“Relax,” I told him, glad to see that he was moving more easily than he had been. “Us girls are just going for a slow waddle up the street. We move at about the same speed, don’t we Maisie?”
Maisie looked up at me, her huge ears swiveling between me and Dan.
“You want company?”
“No.” I needed some time to myself. “I won’t go far.” How far could I get?
Maisie and I walked at about the same pace, which wasn’t very fast. The houses on the lake were spaced a good distance apart, and there wasn’t much traffic. Lake Havasu City, Ringo had told us, had a small population that swelled in the summer with visitors to the lake and the recently relocated London Bridge, and in the winter with folks fleeing the frigid weather up north after Thanksgiving. This early in November not many snowbirds had yet arrived. Ringo’s uncle’s house was well outside the city, so no one was around to interrupt my thoughts.
I rubbed my lower belly as a sharp ache heralded yet another Braxton Hicks contraction. I’d read everything the doctor had given me, and several books, too. My doc, and the one who’d treated Dan at the hospital, had assured me that my pregnancy was progressing normally, and that I and the baby were healthy. I knew what to expect as well as any first time mother could, but despite all my protestations to Dan that I was fine, I was still nervous. I wanted to call my mom and talk to her about what was happening.
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