Just Eight Months Old...

by Tori Carrington

  Now it might be too late.

  With a mental shove, Chad pressed all emotion from his mind. This was not the time to deliberate his future with Hannah. If there even was one in her book—something he doubted despite her almost kissing him before he left her on the street outside Furgeson’s brother’s house. Looking past the Buick, he spotted the airport in the distance. Soon his ride would be over. The knowledge roused impatience and a sense of danger. The danger entered when the rearview mirror told him the Caddy and the Lincoln were still there. Stokes he could understand. But who was in the other car?

  Dusk blanketed Houston in a blue haze, making it impossible to see the driver of the Lincoln. He thought about the two guys he had tied to the toilets at the airport. Could it be them? If it was, then they probably weren’t very happy with him right now. He returned his gaze to the sleek black Buick in front of him. It didn’t surprise him when the blinker switched on at the airport turnoff.

  “Where are you going?” he said aloud, following the Buick’s lead. “Are you Lisa Furgeson hoping to hop a plane for anywhere? Or are you her sister-in-law leading me on a wild-goose chase?”

  The congested causeway found Chad with two cars between him and the Buick in front of him and one between him and the shadow of the Caddy behind him. He couldn’t see the Lincoln, but had no doubt it was there somewhere. Briefly, he wondered what Hannah was doing. The woman was a puzzle with a lot of pieces that didn’t fit. She’d always been a hotly passionate woman who could melt with one touch of his hand, yet make a decision in the face of danger without hesitation. But now, he supposed Bonny might be the new factor that had changed Hannah. Made her more vulnerable. Easier to hurt.

  The Buick pulled into the fire lane in front of the airport terminal. Flicking a glance at the Caddy behind him, Chad drew in a deep breath, then spotted the Lincoln growing closer. Without moving his head, he watched the woman and the little girl leave the Buick and dash for the airport doors.

  With vivid clarity, he remembered Persky in Rita Minelli’s bathroom. An image of Bonny, chattering and slobbering on everything in sight, immediately followed it.

  “Damn.” Chad yanked the steering wheel to the left, away from the fire lane. Immediately he spotted a similar model Buick ahead of him and sped after it, making it look as though it was the car he’d been following all along, leading his tails away from the woman and the child heading into the airport terminal. With relief, he noticed the Caddy and the Lincoln followed him.

  He swallowed the risk that he had just lost Lisa Furgeson and the large sum attached to her. When it came down to it, he was incapable of taking the chance that he was leading what could be two killers in the Lincoln to the woman and the child.

  Hannah squeezed the useless two-way radio in her hand, then shoved it into her purse. Twenty minutes had passed since Chad’s last transmission. She wondered distractedly if he’d ever spotted the Lincoln, or if the fact that the vehicle had followed Stokes’s likely rented Cadillac could have been nothing but sheer coincidence, a local resident seeking an evening out. Rubbing the heel of her palm against her temple, she thought it bad enough Stokes had followed them. But with an unknown element thrown in…

  She puffed out a long breath. What was going on with this case? What had appeared to be a routine skip-trace had turned into a race against time. Not just for the money. But a race to stop anyone else from losing their lives. She rested her hand against her throat. Including hers and Chad’s. Especially hers and Chad’s.

  She turned toward the Furgeson house across the street. Light flickered in the front window. Flickered. Hannah narrowed her eyes. Lights didn’t flicker. They burned or glowed. That meant it wasn’t a light at all. It was a television set. Which meant…

  Looking up and down the street, Hannah crossed it. Someone was in the house. Subconsciously she knew she should wait until Chad contacted her. Should wait for word of his results. But she had no idea how long that would take. Climbing the front steps, Hannah curled her fingers around the doorknob. It refused to budge. She lifted her gaze to the small fan window cut at the top of the wood. Through it she could see the light from the television drifting into what was probably the entry hall.

  Then she heard it. The sound of the TV. She listened to the viewer change channel after channel, apparently looking for news flashes. The fact that the station kept being turned back to CNN confirmed that.

  She thought of Chad. No. Now was definitely the wrong time to start falling back on him. Not when he wouldn’t be around tomorrow to rely on. Besides, she wasn’t sure the woman he was following was Lisa Furgeson, so there was no sense waiting to hear what she already suspected. She hesitated, but only briefly. If it was Lisa inside, how much trouble could a five-foot-six Quality Control Manager cause?

  Silently she skirted the house and peered into the front window. But the shades that had been half-open earlier were now effectively closed, allowing her not even a glimpse at the interior, much less the person sitting in front of the television.

  Hannah gave a quiet yelp. A thorny rosebush had attached itself to her calf. She tried to yank her leg out of the tangled mess, immediately regretting it when the long thorns tore at her flesh through her skirt.

  “Just peachy,” she muttered, bending to untangle herself. She was midway through when she noticed something had changed. It was the television. She no longer heard the sound. The dark window told her it had been turned off.

  Had the person heard her outside? Grown aware of her presence? If she had, that meant…

  Cringing, Hannah pulled her leg out of the bush, the tearing of her skirt meaning little compared to the frustrated scream threatening to spill out of her mouth. She bounded toward the door, stun gun in hand.

  “Open up!” she called, banging on the wooden barrier with the butt of her stun gun. “It’s the police!” A lie, to be sure, but considering her status with the FBI, this was small time.

  From inside she heard the shuffling of feet and her heart beat a hopeful rhythm. Moments later, the television was turned on twice as loud as it had been before.

  Hannah flanked the side of the door, ready to pounce if it opened. She didn’t like this. A door slammed somewhere in the house. Switching her stun gun to safety so she wouldn’t accidentally zap herself, Hannah sprinted around the side of the house toward the back. She only hoped she could beat the person inside. Which seemed impossible since her opponent had the straightest and shortest route while Hannah hurdled a girl’s bike, a terra-cotta flowerpot, and a half dozen other obstacles.

  Finally she emerged from the side of the house, stopping dead in her tracks. The back door was firmly closed, with no sign a person had just escaped through it. Hannah took one step toward it, keeping well to the shadows. It could be a trap, she told herself. There was no sense being an easy target if it was.

  She flanked the side of the back door, becoming one with the outer wall, and stared at the immobile door handle. For long, quiet moments she stood watching it, hoping, daring it to move.

  Then it did. Adrenaline pumped into Hannah’s bloodstream as she watched the brass handle turn ever so slightly. The door opened—and Hannah jumped from the shadows.

  “That’s far enough, Lisa.” Hannah had no doubt that was who the woman was. She had memorized her PlayCo Industries security photo.

  “I haven’t done anything!” the woman responded in a high, strained voice. “You won’t take me back. I’ll do anything to stop you.” Lisa sounded surprisingly convinced.

  A small amount of admiration pricked Hannah’s cool exterior. The woman had guts.

  “I hate to tell you this, Lisa, but I’m taking you back and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.” She slipped her stun gun into the waist of her skirt and reached for her handcuffs. In the millisecond, Lisa took off in a mad dash across the grassy backyard.

  Hannah groaned, watching her run away. She wasn’t much in the mood for a foot chase. Gripping the cool metal of the handcuffs with her
fingers, she bolted toward the retreating figure.

  The distance between them quickly disappeared. Hannah lunged for Lisa, grabbing her around her legs. They both fell to the damp, hard ground.

  “You didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?” Hannah reached for the woman’s hand, only to find her opponent had not given up. Furgeson used her balled fists to fight her off. It was all Hannah could do to keep the hard blows from hitting her in the face.

  “Would you cut it out?” she shouted, trying to restrain the woman’s damaging arms. “This isn’t going to get you anywhere.”

  “Leave me alone! Let me go!”

  Hannah finally grasped the flailing arms, her body effectively blocking any movement the woman’s legs might make.

  “I can’t let you go, Furgeson. Not if I hope to get you back to New York—alive—in time for your hearing the day after tomorrow.”

  The clank of the metal handcuffs as Hannah locked them around Lisa’s wrists placed an exclamation point at the end of her statement.

  “You’re not a cop?” Lisa asked with a trembling voice.

  Hannah shook her head. “No, Furgeson. I’m a bounty hunter.”

  Then it occurred to her that she couldn’t say that. Not anymore. With the capture of Lisa Furgeson her career as a skip-tracer was essentially over. She swallowed hard, realizing it marked the end of many other things, as well. Namely the reason for her and Chad being together.

  Chapter Ten

  Chad pulled the car to a screeching halt in exactly the same spot it was parked before he went off on his fruitless chase. He had shaken off both the Caddy and the Lincoln miles on the other side of the airport before he hooked a U-turn and headed back to the Furgeson house. For long moments he sat there, waiting for Hannah to approach, but she didn’t. He stared at the two-way radio. Nothing but static. He picked it up.

  “Hannah?” he called again as he depressed the Talk button.

  He gave her a moment to respond then spoke into the radio again. Nothing. Where was she? He tossed the radio on the passenger’s seat, a cold fear sweeping over him. He shifted his gaze to the dark house up the block.

  A wave of fear washed over him at the next thought.

  No.

  Surely she didn’t go in by herself? She would have waited for him, right? Wrong.

  “Damn.”

  Chad yanked open the car door, his hand reaching automatically for the 9 mm he’d stuffed into the waist of his jeans. He broke into a run, slowing only when he reached the front door of the house. The prospect sent another surge of fear through his taut, restless muscles. He couldn’t lose her, too. Not like his wife and son…

  Under the cover of night, he took his lock-picking kit from his pocket and went to work. Within moments the lock gave and he slipped inside. Quick, cautious footsteps took him to the living room where the television blared out a cosmetics commercial. Nothing. No sign of Hannah. He backtracked to the hallway. Where was she?

  “Hannah?” Chad yelled over the sound of the television.

  Holding his gun steady, he clung to the shadows. Slow, careful footsteps carried him down the passageway while he strained to pick up any sound other than that of the TV. She had to be there.

  Up ahead he saw a shaft of light. He approached the partially open door to what he believed to be the kitchen and flanked the right side. Problem was, he didn’t know if the person on the other side was Hannah or Lisa Furgeson. Since he hadn’t been able to identify the woman in the Buick, it was possible she had been Lisa’s sister-in-law, and that Lisa herself had stayed behind in the house. He would have to play his cards carefully, for if Lisa Furgeson had managed to take Hannah McGee hostage, she had to be one hell of an adversary.

  “Freeze!”

  Chad stormed the kitchen, holding the gun out in front of him.

  “What took you so long, Hogan?”

  Relief flooded Chad’s twitching muscles. Hannah wasn’t tied up. She wasn’t lying unconscious on the floor. To the contrary, she was the prettiest piece of work he had ever seen, healthy and unpredictable with her face nearly the color of her gorgeous red hair. She stood staring at him as if he’d gone mad. He dropped his gun hand to his side. The smudges on her cheek told him she hadn’t won without a struggle.

  “What is this?” he asked, stepping closer to touch the swelling near her right eye.

  Hannah flinched. “Lisa Furgeson may have worked for a toy company, but she has one of the meanest right hooks I’ve ever played punching bag to.”

  She motioned toward the corner. Chad spotted a just-as-scuffed Furgeson handcuffed to the metal handle of the refrigerator. The blonde looked exactly like her photo in the file. “Gave you a run for your money, did she?”

  “Where were you anyway? I expected you back a half hour ago.”

  “The airport isn’t exactly close. Especially when you have two tails that refuse to be shaken off. And just what in the hell did you think you were doing facing off with Furgeson without backup? You—”

  “What were you doing at the airport?”

  In the corner, Lisa Furgeson snapped to attention.

  Hannah looked in the woman’s direction, then turned back to him and continued. “And what did you want me to do? Sit here on my hands waiting for you to come back?”

  “Yes.” He wasn’t sure he liked what he saw in Hannah’s eyes. There was a shadow that seemed to say that she wouldn’t be waiting for him again.

  Lisa yanked on her handcuffs. “You followed Jolene there, didn’t you?”

  Chad shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

  “Yes, I did. Only I was under the impression that your sister-in-law wasn’t your sister-in-law. That, in fact, she was you.”

  “Are you saying you followed Jolene to the airport on the assumption she was me?” Lisa asked.

  Chad grimaced at the woman. “Yes. And I’d like to point out that if I couldn’t be sure she wasn’t you, there could be others out there who could make the same mistake.”

  “Are they…are they okay? My sister-in-law…and the girl?” Lisa whispered.

  “They’re fine. When they ran into the terminal, I let them go.” He met Hannah’s gaze and noticed the curiosity in her eyes. She didn’t have to ask. They both knew what he’d done—and why. He’d sacrificed what could have been a healthy bounty in order to keep the woman and the girl safe from whoever was tailing them. From the same fate that had caught up with Eric Persky.

  He cleared his throat and went on. “Forget about Stokes, though. He wasn’t the one I was concerned about anyway. But I couldn’t get a handle on who was in the other car.”

  “The Lincoln,” Hannah said.

  “Yeah.”

  Chad searched Hannah’s smudged face, suddenly realizing their apprehension of Lisa also meant the end of the assignment. As soon as they got her back to New York, gone would be the reason for their partnership. Gone would be Hannah—and Bonny—from his life.

  That is if he couldn’t do something to stop it beforehand….

  “We don’t have much time,” Hannah interrupted his thoughts. “You may have lost Stokes and the Lincoln, but it won’t be long before they find their way back here.”

  The legs of Lisa’s chair screeched against the tile floor, the metal handcuffs clanking as she yanked on the door handle.

  “What are you doing, Furgeson?” Chad asked. “Someone’s out there.” Lisa indicated the door leading to the hall.

  Chad tried to pick up any proof of movement. The only sound he could hear was the television. He wished he’d turned it off before.

  “This isn’t a ploy,” Lisa whispered fiercely. “There is someone out there!”

  “Suppose she’s right?” Hannah asked. “I don’t know about you, but I’m in no hurry to meet up with our two friends from the airport again.”

  Chad gripped his gun. “Stay here. I’ll go check it out.”

  Hannah anxiously watched the door close behind Chad, suppressing the urge to c
all out to him, demand they leave the house. Now. They could slip through the back and leave whoever had made the sound in the living room to fend for themselves. To search through the empty house and find them long gone.

  “What if someone is out there?” Lisa asked.

  “Then we get out of here as fast as we can.”

  Lisa offered her handcuffed hands, metal clanking against metal as she did so.

  Hannah started for the kitchen door, then paced back to the middle of the kitchen. Why didn’t Chad turn the television off so she could hear?

  “All right, I’ll free you from the refrigerator.” She neared Lisa with the keys. “But the cuffs stay.”

  Once liberated from the appliance, Lisa stood up, starting for the doorway Chad had disappeared through.

  “What are you doing?” Hannah hurried after her. The sound of a loud crash from the front of the house sent her pulse into overdrive.

  “Oh God.” Hannah pushed the kitchen door open, rushing into the outside hall with her stun gun drawn and charged. Darkness greeted her, and her eyesight was slow to adjust to the sudden change in lighting.

  Hannah led a slow march down the hall to the living room. The only sounds were those of a sitcom on television. The periods of laughter following a joke were unsettling, echoing through the deceptively empty house.

  She debated whether she should call out to Chad. After all, he could be waiting around the corner, gun drawn, thinking her the intruder. Her breath snagged in her throat. She remembered the last time she had called out for him and earned him a whack in the head.

  She decided to be quiet.

  “Get back in the kitchen!” Chad’s harsh whisper sounded from her left in the main hall.

  “Hey, Hannah, luv. Bet you didn’t expect to see me so soon.” The familiar voice reached out for her in the darkness from her right, startling her. But not as much as the arms that snaked around her waist.

  “Stokes? What in the hell are you doing—”

  A light switch clicked and Hannah found her guess correct. Jack Stokes knocked her stun gun from her hand, then strengthened his hold around her waist. “Told you I’d get you back for taking Eddie the Snake out from under my nose, McGee.”