Just Eight Months Old...

by Tori Carrington

  She chanced a glance at him, noticing for the first time that he held something in his hands. Her stomach did a crazy little flip-flop. Flowers. He’d brought flowers. And he stared at them now as if even he didn’t know how they’d gotten there.

  She straightened, uncertain what to say, unsure if she should say anything at all.

  Then Chad tossed the brilliant bouquet of yellow roses across the bed they’d shared together mere hours before then opened the door.

  Hannah’s heart skipped a beat.

  “I’ll wait outside in the car,” he said without looking at her.

  The click of the door closing sounded louder than if he had slammed it.

  Chapter Nine

  Hannah glanced to where Chad tightened his grip on the steering wheel of the rental car. To say the ride to the outskirts of Houston had been tense would be a major understatement. And without Bonny there to concentrate on, she felt strangely out of sorts. Reluctantly she had arranged to have Betty Browning, the motel manager, baby-sit, only leaving her daughter in the other woman’s care when she saw how well she interacted with her own three children. Besides, Hannah had only to remember what happened to Persky in Atlantic City, and the two armed men at the Houston airport, to know that it was unsafe to keep Bonny with her.

  “Hannah…I want to apologize,” Chad said quietly.

  She stared intently out the window. “Apologize? Apologize for what?”

  Chad pressed the button to roll down his window though the heat outside was unbearable. “Never mind. Forget it.”

  Hannah wished she were anywhere but there in the car with him. She felt dangerously near tears. “No, I didn’t mean you didn’t have anything to apologize for. I just want to get it straight up-front which one of your sins you think deserves forgiveness.” She switched the air conditioner to high.

  “I said forget it.”

  She nodded slowly, her stomach pitching to her feet. Forget it. “That’s what I thought.” She avoided his gaze, her voice dropping to nearly a whisper. “Look, maybe we should just admit to ourselves that we made a mistake. Today, and three years ago.” She swallowed hard, forcing the words past her throat. “You were right. You know, when you said we should keep this temporary partnership professional, and forget the rest.”

  She forced herself to glance at him. His jaw muscles flexed and he looked at a complete loss as to what to say.

  “From here on we stick to the original plan, okay? No more personal involvement.” She shook her head and stared in the rearview mirror, glancing at the empty residential street behind them.

  He sighed, running a restless hand through his newly trimmed, sandy brown hair. Impulsively, Hannah longed to reach out and touch his clean-shaven cheek. She took a deep breath, saddened by her weakness where Chad Hogan was concerned.

  She rubbed her damp palms one by one on her skirt. “Where are we going anyway? Do you know where Lisa Furgeson is?”

  He made a turn, then looked at her. His gaze was strangely penetrating and she looked away.

  “After I left the room earlier, I did some checking to see how many Furgesons were in the area. There happens to be a Jeff and Jolene Furgeson with the same number Persky called.”

  “Lisa Furgeson’s brother?”

  “Looks that way.” He turned again, then slowed the car to read the numbers of the houses they passed. He parked near the next corner.

  It bothered Hannah that he could put everything that had happened between them aside so easily. Bonny. Their lovemaking. Her cheeks burned and she reminded herself that was exactly what she wanted, wasn’t it? They weren’t any good for each other. She demanded from him what he could not give; he took what he did not want.

  If only she could put things aside as easily as Chad had, things would be so much easier.

  “The house is the brick one on the opposite side of the street,” he said.

  Hannah eyed the modest, two-story structure in the sprawling suburban development. It seemed the least likely place for a criminal to hide. Which meant it was probably the most likely. Chad switched off the engine, then pulled on the release to lower the back of his seat. He looked like he was resting, ready to be there for a while.

  Sitting back, Hannah crossed her arms over her chest. She tried not to worry about Bonny, and battled back the urge to ask Chad why he’d brought her flowers.

  She hadn’t dared touch them before leaving the room, no matter how much her heart longed to. Didn’t trust herself to read the card dangling from the long, leafy stems.

  Now she wished she’d had the courage to do both. At any rate, whoever cleaned the room—she suspected Betty performed that duty as well—was in for a pleasant surprise.

  Ask him, a tiny voice nudged her.

  She closed her eyes, hating that she hurt so much, yet hating the silence in the car more.

  “Chad, I—” She cleared her throat. He shifted in his seat, then looked at her. “Never mind.” She stared resolutely at the house across the street.

  Chad said softly, “I thought that was my line.”

  Her gaze flicked to his and held. What a pair they made, she thought, sitting there, neither of them willing or able to break the tension between them.

  His lips upturned in the smallest of smiles. She returned it, unfamiliar with the emotions tumbling inside her chest.

  Then they both shifted their attention back to the house.

  Hannah rubbed a cramp from her right calf and stared at her watch.

  “I think we’re wasting our time,” she murmured. Her gaze drifted from the house to the empty disposable coffee cup on the dash. The caffeine had not helped her anxiety any. The last two hours closed in the car with Chad had taken their toll. She was little more than a series of thinly stretched nerves, beneath which lay a vulnerability she didn’t want to face. She cleared her throat. “Aside from the girl we saw go inside a while ago, there’s no sign anybody’s home.”

  About an hour before, a swarm of children had descended upon the neighborhood, signaling that some sort of summer school or summer program had let out. Nearly every house was invaded by one or two kids, including the Furgeson household. A brown-haired girl had hastened up the walkway, picking at a sprawling rosebush before letting herself into the house with her own key.

  “I don’t think we’re wasting our time,” Chad said quietly. Too quietly. “What did you expect? That Furgeson would come out with her hands up because a strange car is parked on the street outside?”

  Hannah frowned. “I wonder what it feels like to have a family member with a price on their head.”

  “Who says her brother and his family know about her jumping bail? Sure, they may know Lisa is in trouble, but do they know what kind of trouble? Then there’s Furgeson herself. After what happened to Persky, does she know there’s more than a dollar sign hovering above her head?”

  He shifted in his seat, bringing his seat back up. His shoulder came in contact with hers. Hannah leaned against the passenger side door, as far away from him as possible, and jerkily opened a Twinkie he had offered her from a little bag of goodies a while ago.

  Chad looked at her. “Of course, that’s leaving out that she could have been the one who finished off Persky.”

  Hannah chased the bite of cream-filled cake with bitter coffee and almost choked.

  “The house,” she managed to say between coughs.

  Chad’s lips pulled into a thin line.

  “Look at it. It’s modest, well tended, in a neighborhood with good schools. How old did the girl who went inside look to you? Seven? Eight? Would a mother keep her seven-year-old daughter around if she knew her life was in jeopardy?”

  Chad sank lower in the seat.

  Twinkie crumbs fell to her skirt and she brushed them away. “Is that your way of saying I’m way out in left field?”

  “No,” Chad said. “I just think you should stop second-guessing everyone. It would make things a whole helluva lot easier.”

  “O
h?” Hannah hesitantly stuffed the last of the Twinkie into her mouth. She swallowed. Was he talking about her second-guessing of Furgeson’s mind-set? Or of his actions and motivations? “So you’re telling me Lisa Furgeson has flown the coop?”

  “If that’s what I’m saying, then I think she’s just flown back in.”

  Hannah turned toward the house to find a late model black Buick pulling into the driveway. They sat silently watching as the brake lights went out. A brunette climbed out and hurried to the door, casting nervous glances about as she did so.

  “Interesting,” Hannah said.

  “Is that Furgeson?”

  “I don’t know. The fact sheets list her as blond, but five bucks and a half hour could change that.”

  The woman disappeared into the house, closing the door quickly after herself.

  “You’re a lot of help,” Chad said. She stared at him. “We’re a little far away to make a composite sketch.”

  A few minutes later, the woman left the house with the little girl who had gone in earlier. Within moments both were in the Buick and backing out of the driveway.

  “Looks like the action’s picking up. Maybe they spotted us,” Hannah said, removing her seat belt. She emptied the remainder of her coffee out the window, then tossed the empty cup into the back seat. Snatching up her purse, she climbed out of the car.

  She slammed the door, tossing Chad one of a pair of two-way radios. “Take this. I borrowed them from Betty’s boys. They probably don’t have very good range, but they’re something.”

  Chad took it. Hannah tried not to remember the way those long, tanned fingers had touched her only a short time ago. Awakened a part of herself long asleep. Coaxed out emotions she had never felt.

  Hannah watched the Buick speed down the opposite side of the street. “Keep in contact. I’ll be listening with the one I have in my purse.”

  He turned the ignition key. “I don’t like this,” Chad said, staring at her through the open window. “Get back in the car, Hannah. We’re sticking together on this.”

  She stared at him, her heart thudding in her chest, time curiously at a standstill. In that one moment, she pushed aside the past few hours and the pain he had caused her, and gave in to a sudden swell of fear.

  Fear had never played a part in their professional partnership before. They had always been equals on a level playing field, she never asking for help she didn’t need, Chad never trying to dominate the relationship as most men would.

  Now? Well, now she wasn’t that fearless Hannah McGee, ex-police officer unafraid of taking anyone on. She was a mother with a tiny human being to think of before herself. And she sensed Chad was no longer the live-and-let-die man she had once thought him, because he was a father.

  A father.

  This was the second time he had tried to protect her. And despite a tiny spark of indignation, she found herself dangerously close to liking his concern for her safety.

  Her gaze drifted down to the clean line of his jaw, then slowly up to his strong, inviting mouth, her heart beating a potent rhythm in her chest. She found her own mouth watering, longing to feel again Chad’s lips on hers. She blinked and looked into his eyes, the melting metal in them reaching inside and grasping something elemental within her. Holding his gaze, she began to lean in, to tell him without words how much it meant to her that he cared, no matter how much he tried to hide it. To cling to his mouth for a brief second, to remind herself how wonderfully vital she felt when she touched him.

  She caught herself. Her throat tightened as she pulled away.

  She needed more than a kiss. She needed a man who wasn’t afraid to admit his feelings for her. Who was strong enough to overcome his past and not only profess his love for her, but shout it from the rooftops. A man who could be a good, solid, stick-around father figure for her daughter. Not someone who ran for the door every time he was confused.

  “Be careful,” she whispered thickly.

  He grasped her wrist when she would have turned away.

  Hannah pooled every last instinct for self-survival she still had and tugged her wrist away from his velvety grasp. “What are you waiting for, Hogan? Christmas?” Her words were rough, but she couldn’t bring herself to look at him, to back up her words with a stern look. She was too afraid she would fall apart. She swallowed hard. “Get a move on.”

  Chad stared at her intensely as she stepped away from the car. Then he bit off a curse and shoved the gearshift into Drive, speeding after the Buick and the woman in it.

  “Chad?”

  Chad turned the steering wheel to the left and merged with the traffic of the six-lane highway, trying to follow the Buick without being detected. He stared at the squawking two-way radio on the passenger’s seat next to him.

  “Chad, are you there?”

  He groped blindly around the seat until he felt the smooth plastic of the radio. He picked it up.

  “What is it, Hannah?” he asked.

  Despite his slightly abrupt response, he realized he liked the fact that she was worried about him. Maybe because it meant that not all had gone bad between them. Perhaps because he needed her to.

  Moreover, he wanted to worry about her. What seemed like a long, long time ago, Hannah had never given him an opportunity to protect her. But her new vulnerability touched off something inside him he couldn’t quite control. A need to wrap his arms around her in a way that had nothing to do with sex, hold her head to his chest, and fight off the world and everybody in it in order to keep her and their daughter safe. To protect them in the way he hadn’t been able to protect Linda and Joshua.

  The Buick turned a hundred yards ahead of him. He pulled his own rental around the corner after her.

  “Chad? Do you still have the car in sight?” Hannah’s voice floated through the small box again.

  Chad pulled the radio to his mouth. “Has no one ever taught you the art of patience, Hannah?”

  “You don’t have to yell. I just thought you might want to take a look in your rearview mirror.”

  Putting the radio down, he adjusted the mirror, then reached for the radio again. “Help me out here. What am I looking for?”

  “A silver older Cadillac and a black late-model Lincoln.”

  He searched the road behind him and saw neither vehicle in the thick stream of rush hour traffic.

  “Anything going on there?” he asked.

  “Not yet.” There was a brief silence. “What I do here depends on what you turn up.”

  “Right.” He didn’t like this. He didn’t like this at all.

  “Have you spotted the Caddy or the Lincoln?” she asked.

  “No. Why?”

  “When you pulled away, both were on your tail. I think I saw Stokes in one of them. Must be a cheap rental.”

  “Let me guess, the beat-up Caddy?” Hannah’s silence told him he was right. He tossed the two-way onto the passenger’s seat and shook his head. His attention strayed to the rearview mirror again. Nothing. Until the shift of a car behind him revealed the silver Caddy two lengths back. His knuckles began to itch. It was their good old friend Jack Stokes, all right. A dead giveaway with his leather-rimmed hat, despite the fact that they were in Texas in summer.

  “Hannah?”

  Silence greeted him as he shifted his gaze between the car behind him and on the Buick ahead. There was the sound of static, then Hannah’s voice. “The transmission is beginning to fade.”

  Chad looked around, searching for something, anything he might recognize. He realized the road was one of the few he’d seen during their brief stay in Houston.

  “Hannah, I think the Buick is leading me to the airport.” He released the button and shoved his hair back where it rested against his temple. “I’ve spotted Stokes. What was the other car?”

  Static crackled over the receiver as he waited for her response. He swerved quickly to the left, nearly tearing a door from a car a woman climbed out of near the curb. He laid on the horn, and chanced a
nother glance behind him. A black Lincoln. That’s what she said the other car was. And there it was. Three car lengths behind the Caddy, mimicking his move by changing lanes.

  “Chad,” Hannah’s voice floated over the radio. “We’ll have to break this transmission soon.”

  There was a long silence. He began to think he had reached the limits of the transmission radius entirely. He tossed the radio onto the seat, blindly searching for the button to cease the incessant static when her voice sounded again.

  “Chad…be careful.”

  The click as Hannah turned her radio off sounded and Chad switched off his as well. He was on his own now. Something that had always been the case.

  Except when he was with Hannah.

  But her absence now was more than just the empty seat next to him. Somehow when they were together, either working or…otherwise, he felt…complete. As if everything would be okay; it couldn’t help but not be. He remembered what happened earlier back at the motel and tightened his fingers around the steering wheel. At least sometimes he felt everything would come out okay. Now he wasn’t so sure.

  Maneuvering himself so he could gain access to his pocket, he tugged out the small velvet pouch there. He fingered the soft material, then wound the cord around the rearview mirror where he could see it. A reminder of what he had almost done. A reminder of what he had yet to do.

  He ran his hand over his face. It was obvious she hadn’t read the card attached to the flowers. If she had, then they might still be back at the motel instead of tailing cars and communicating via two-way radios.

  Then again maybe she had read the card, compared his words to his actions, and questioned his sincerity.

  Oh, he was sincere, all right. Confused as hell. Uncertain. But sincere. It was what he should have done two days ago when he discovered Hannah had had his baby. Only he’d been too wrapped up in his own shock to respond to much of anything.