Lost in Shadows (Lost)

by Anita DeVito

  It was impossible not to notice, she thought, how both men slid into warrior mode. Neither man was talkative, which she ordinarily preferred, but the silence became deafening. Consumed with the driving, Beck thumped a fist on the standard equipped sedan while he kept careful watch on the cars in front of him as well as the ones behind. Each time they approached an exit or an overpass, he scanned up and down, side to side. He never once looked at Jeb but she had no doubt he was aware of every movement.

  Jeb left the bag open and faced forward. He tucked his chin and watched his opponent in the side-view mirror. “This is a dangerous situation. We don’t know the roads here. The best plan for now is to use the traffic to screen the tail. Until we lose him, there is no going to the airport.”

  She knew Jeb said it for her benefit. It was obvious Beck didn’t need to be apprised of the situation. She peeked over her shoulder, worrying her lower lip. Who was following them? Why couldn’t they just leave her in peace?

  …

  Jeb watched the tail stay unobtrusively behind while Beck wove through traffic enough to make whoever it was work. The driver was experienced. His only mistake had been tailing Beck. The man epitomized focus. Since meeting Carolina, Jeb’s attention was anything but focused, and he knew it. That’s why he had selected Beck, the best Chameleon had, to cover his back.

  Where had they made a mistake? He had kept their profile as low as possible. Millstone and his secretary had known Carolina would be there, of course, but no one else. He had made Carolina a false ID and flown the plane himself. No one knew they were coming except Millstone and his secretary. Was it coincidence that Millstone knew the two men who had destroyed Carolina’s home? He had pointed Jeb quickly enough in another direction, a complicated direction.

  “Beck. I want to see their faces. I want to see if it’s Cooper and Hooker back there.” He rubbed his knuckles over his chin. “Carolina, get down, honey. I don’t want them getting a good look at you.” He twisted around to peer at her. Her blue eyes were too big and her lip once again swollen from where she bit it already. He patted her arm as she lay down on the back seat. “Everything is going to be fine. Trust me.”

  “There’s no passenger.” Beck moved right, into slower traffic, as though his exit were coming up. The SUV, now two lanes over, lagged by less than two car lengths and signaled to move closer.

  “Black male,” Jeb announced. “Early to mid-forties.” They had a new player in the game. Their current list of suspects—Cooper, Hooker, Kennedy, Edgerton—were all white.

  “Let’s see what he wants.” Beck worked the tail, baiting him into following faster, closer than the man would want. “Find me a place.”

  Jeb examined GPS mapping of the north Atlanta area. He found the kind of road they needed. One with plenty of curves and blind corners. “Two exits. Head west.”

  Beck punched the gas. Carolina let out a little cry and Jeb’s hand steadied her as she slid across the back seat in the short dress. The black SUV jolted as it surged forward, weaving through traffic, chasing the dangled bait.

  “We got him,” Jeb said, the hard edge of victory in his voice. “Don’t lose him.”

  Beck snorted and passed a slow-moving delivery truck, shifting casually into the gap in front. He glanced in the mirror, looking to see the SUV follow his lead. The SUV merged in two cars back, behind a minivan. Out of nowhere, a beat-up red sedan cut in front of the minivan.

  “Shit.” Beck could see the disaster before it happened. The minivan jerked left, crossing the dashed line and sideswiping a pickup truck. The truck bounced into the next lane and kept going, then the bumper nipped the median and the truck went into a spin that had the traffic scattering like rats from a sinking ship. The minivan jerked back to the right where the SUV surged out of the shadow of the delivery truck.

  Inside a quarter mile, it was a three-car race. Beck sped up the center of the exit ramp, the motor humming as it nibbled up pavement. “Fucking hybrid.”

  The red piece of shit came up on their heels like a dog on a mailman. A ferocious little pit bull, the sedan didn’t back down but attacked. The front grill nipped at their back end.

  “Turn left,” Jeb barked. Beck slowed enough to scout oncoming traffic, enough to let the piece of shit ram his bumper. The car leaped forward and Carolina cried out in surprise. “Get on the floor, baby, cover your head.”

  She slid from the bench into a trembling puddle behind his seat. Her head, covered by her hands, rested on the raised floor in the center and muffled her fear-filled cries.

  “That’s right, honey. You’re doing great,” he encouraged, rubbing the nape of her neck. “You just stay low.”

  A bullet came in through a rear passenger window and went out the other, cutting through the air where Carolina’s head would have been had she been sitting. Jeb dragged a Kevlar vest over Carolina while he waited for his shot. The piece of shit was erratic. It jerked left then right. It charged forward and suddenly slowed. It pulled hard to the right and left paint on a guardrail.

  The black SUV kept its distance while the piece of shit lurched around the highway but closed with a vengeance once it cut to the exit ramp.

  The sleepy country lane cringed as a thousand horses thundered by. “Take the next left. It’s got everything we need.” He buried his fingers in Carolina’s hair as he gave the order. Subtly, Beck slowed, letting the tail close. Jeb lowered his window. “Give me a count.”

  Beck eyed the turn. “Five. Four. Three. Two. One.”

  Jeb fired. He hit the windshield, and the piece of shit jumped at the same time Beck slammed on the brakes. The back end slid, but Beck hit the gas and pulled out before the spin started. The tail raced past, missing the turn. The SUV didn’t.

  The gravel road felt like it was covered in boulders as Beck pushed the speedometer toward eighty. The SUV kept pace but didn’t close. “What’s he doing?” Beck asked.

  Jeb watched out the back window. “He’s boxing the sedan out. He’s slowing down and trapping it behind him.”

  “What the fuck?”

  “No idea,” Jeb said. “I have no fucking idea what’s going on.” Above the roar of the road, they heard the sharp crack of gunfire. “The tail is shooting again.”

  “Did he hit anything?”

  “Doesn’t look like it. Here comes the SUV.” He held on while Beck took them around two sharp curves made blind by crops. A hundred yards behind them, the SUV came out of the curve and tore down the straightaway to a wide spot in the road. Gravel kicked up as the SUV spun, faced the POS, and charged. Over the length of a football field, Goliath rushed David. The engines roared, staking their claims to that narrow gravel road. As the metal monsters were about to collide, David balked. The red piece of shit sailed off the road, over a drainage ditch, and impaled itself in thick brush.

  Beck didn’t stop to watch the show but pushed his own vehicle forward. “We’re free. Let’s get out of here.”

  Jeb called ahead, ensuring the plane waited, fueled and ready to go. He had to pry Carolina off the floor before Beck could return the rental. She curled into herself, hiding beneath the heavy fall of hair while he dealt with the paperwork. He guided her into a seat of the small plane where she tucked her face into his neck and held on.

  “Looks like I’m flying today,” Beck said with a crooked smile.

  “Don’t sound so upset,” Jeb snapped.

  “I’ve been wanting to fly this little baby for months.” Beck stroked loving fingers over the controls. “We’re going to have some fun, aren’t we, sweetheart?”

  “Be gentle. She’s young.”

  Beck cut him a hound-dog look, settled into the pilot’s seat and started the preflight checks. Jeb focused on Carolina. She hadn’t said a word since they picked up the tail. Her body shook. Fear and trauma had beaten her to the point of exhaustion but also denied her the respite. He thought about that. The car chase had exhilarated him. It did the same for Beck. They weren’t tired and beat down. They were
revved, riding the adrenaline, high on the thrill. Beck signaled they were ready for takeoff, and Jeb pulled Carolina closer.

  “I want to go home,” she said in a whimper.

  “We are. Just relax.” He pulled her head down into his lap. “Close your eyes and just relax for me.” She lay still while his fingers played through her hair. She didn’t fuss, didn’t fight, but he knew she didn’t relax. She lay there, coiled and ready to bolt. He just didn’t know when.

  Jeb’s living room was full for the first time since he moved into his house. He sat on his leather couch, his laptop on the coffee table and his fingers flying over the keyboard. Butch sat next to him, quietly plucking at a guitar.

  When Jeb glanced at the hallway, Butch kicked his leg. “Clyde, you need to relax and let Katie do the woman thing.”

  Tom chuckled from where he lined up his shot on Jeb’s pool table. “Katie doesn’t know any woman things. You of all people should know that.”

  A wry smile crept across Butch’s face. “Clyde, you don’t know what you’re talking about. That cousin of yours is all woman.”

  Tom flinched, the stick missing the target and sending the cue ball spinning haplessly across the green felt. “Why do you have to ruin my delusions?”

  The bedroom door flung open. Jeb shoved his brother aside and caught Carolina as she ran from the bedroom. Her slim body vibrated under his hands.

  She pulled him into the privacy of the hallway. “I want to talk to Jeremy Miller. When is he supposed to come home?”

  He looked down into sharp blue eyes that were filled with electricity. He didn’t see any of the fear or confusion that had been drowning her. “Sunday. The day after tomorrow. Beck and I are planning to meet his plane.”

  “I’m going, too.”

  He mentally flipped through strategies. She wasn’t going anywhere near that airport where, odds were, an assassin would be hunting Jeremy Miller. Before Jeb could argue, Katie bounced through the hallway. “I’ll meet you in the barn.”

  “Okay. I’ll be there as soon as I change.” She abandoned him for the bedroom.

  Not having any of that, he followed her, refusing to be dismissed. “Why are you meeting Katie in the barn?”

  She stripped off her blouse and faced him wearing only the push-up bra that had become his favorite. “We’re building a rack. Well, she’s building it but I’m going to help. Do you have an old tee or something I can wear? I can’t afford to lose another shirt.”

  He went to his dresser and tossed her a white undershirt. “A rack of what?”

  “You know,” she said, pulling the shirt on. “A rack. A medieval torture device.” Carolina looked so confident standing there in front of him, the blue bra showing clear as day through the thin tee.

  “Why are you building a rack? Maybe the question is who are you building a rack for?” He opened a second drawer and pulled out a black sweatshirt. He crossed the few feet to her and pulled the shirt over her head.

  “Not you. You haven’t done anything wrong. Yet.” She teased him, coming up on her toes to kiss his jaw. “And if you did do something wrong, I’m sure I could come up with a more…interesting punishment than a rack.”

  He shuddered as her hot breath stroked his skin. When she laughed, he looked down into her eyes. They were full of fun. A fun he couldn’t resist. He wrapped his arms around her hips and jerked her against his body as he growled. “You better not be thinking about another man.”

  She slid against him, stroking him, stoking him. “Hmm. I am. I’m thinking about the one you’re going to catch for me. Katie and I are going to tie him to the rack and then…”

  “And then?” he asked breathlessly.

  “Well, I don’t know. I’m not very good at this,” she admitted, switching from sexy to innocent quickly. “Katie will come up with something, and it’s going to be good. She has a mean streak. I have to go.”

  He laughed and swatted her butt as she dashed out of the room. “Stay out of trouble.” He knew he wasted his breath. If she was with Katie, trouble wouldn’t be far behind.

  Jeb and Beck sat at the kitchen table poring over a schematic of the Tallahassee airport while Tom stirred a pot of sauce. “They could hit him anywhere,” Beck said.

  “Let’s go on the assumption that they aren’t going to do it inside the airport. Where would you choose?”

  Beck pointed immediately to passenger pickup. “His wife usually picks him up, right? I would find a good spot with my rifle and take care of my problems.”

  “That’s the way I would do it, too. There is no underground access. He has to come out one of these sets of doors.”

  “We could screen him. A full-size van or a delivery truck. A sniper would never know he came out the door.”

  Jeb nodded. “If we’re lucky, Cooper and Hooker will fall for it, and our guy will be hours away before they know he’s landed.”

  “Do you really think that’s the way it’ll go down?”

  Jeb leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “I want it to but…” The scream of a siren crept into the house. “What the hell is going on?”

  Butch ran into the kitchen from the courtyard. “Quinn is here, siren blaring.” Jeb, Beck, and Tom followed Butch through the old parlor to the front door.

  Sheriff Hugh Quinn parked the truck that used to be Jeb’s in the gravel drive. Quinn had been one of Jeb’s deputies and had run for the office after Jeb resigned. Quinn wasn’t the sharpest crayon in the box but he was honest, hardworking, and he cared.

  Jeb stepped to the edge of the wide wraparound porch. “Quinn.”

  “Evenin’, Jeb. What’s the trouble?”

  He shook his head slowly. “No trouble here.”

  “We got a 911 call. Traced it here.”

  The four men stood on the porch, tall, broad-shouldered, and completely perplexed. “Everything’s quiet,” Jeb said. “None of the alarms tripped.”

  “What were y’all doing?”

  “Making dinner,” Tom answered. “Fettuccini and meatballs.”

  Quinn used his thumb to push his hat back. “Where’s Little Red?”

  Jeb turned tail and ran out of the house with the others following to the new barn. Racing across the courtyard, the five men cut through the breezeway under Tom’s wing and across the small graveled area. The barn doors were shut, the white paint shining innocently in the afternoon sun.

  Butch grabbed the latch and pulled the door open, releasing a metal scream that shredded the peaceful countryside. A circular saw shrieked as it ate through wood. Taylor barked with the noise, leaping onto a low table to straddle a man. The man’s feet and chest were bare. Carolina stood at the foot of the table revving Taylor up. She tickled the man’s feet until Taylor got the hint and began to lick his toes. The saw disengaged and the man cursed to the vaulted roof and back as he thrashed uselessly against the metal bindings.

  “Katherine Lynn Riley McCormick.” Butch caught his breath before shouting again. “What in the living hell are you doing?”

  Katie set down the two-by-four she had cut, took out her earplugs, and pulled off her eye protection. She grinned, all fun and games. “We’re building a rack.”

  Jeb cut Carolina a ferocious look. “What are you doing with Hagerman?”

  “Save me, McCormick. These women are fucking nuts. They’re going to kill me.” Hagerman was shorter than Jeb and built like a prizefighter. His defined muscles, covered in sweat and sawdust, strained under the improvised manacles.

  Carolina rolled her eyes. “He volunteered to test the rack.”

  Hagerman roared his dissent. “No—”

  “Oh, yes, you did,” Katie snapped. “You took off your shirt and shoes all on your own. Then you climbed up onto the rack.”

  Hagerman glared at Katie. “I thought—”

  “I can just imagine what you thought,” Jeb said, suddenly amused. Hagerman had a reputation for having great hands. He worked protection for Chameleon, where his specialty was reco
very—and married women.

  “No one told me you were building a rack.” Tom sulked, a child left out of the fun. “Let me see how you set this up. Where are the gears?”

  “We didn’t have gears,” Katie said, walking Tom to the working end of the device, “so we used pulleys. You load weights here.” She put a five-pound plate from the gym on a stem. At once the ends of the rack pulled apart just a quarter inch, but it was enough to make the panicked Hagerman scream.

  “Let me the fuck up!”

  “Sweet.” Tom dropped one knee to the ground and looked under the contraption.

  Katie rolled her eyes again. “Really, he-man, it doesn’t hurt. We didn’t tighten it down all the way.”

  “Let him up,” Jeb ordered. “Hagerman, I’m not going to ask you what you were thinking, because it’s pretty clear. I brought you here to do a job, to protect these woman—”

  “—they don’t need protection! You’re fucking evil,” he said to Carolina.

  Jeb brought fists up to the ready. “Stop swearing at them. Right now. Don’t make the mistake of calling them one more name.” He took a breath, forcing his hands to open when Hagerman closed his mouth. “Now, you were brought here to do a job. If you can’t, I’ll find you another assignment. I’m asking you, can you do it?”

  Hagerman leaped off the table as Carolina opened the last cuff. He swept the neat stack of his shirt and shoes off the workbench, grabbed his cell phone from the ground where it had dropped, and moved far away from Carolina and Katie. He looked at Jeb’s face, his boss.

  Jeb could read his mind. He could deny it all he wanted out loud but inside, Hagerman knew Jeb could have beaten him within an inch of his life for making a move on the women. The only reason he could still walk was that the women had gotten the better of him. Whether Hagerman stayed or went, he wasn’t going to hear the end of this one for a long, long time. As jobs went, this was a good one, and Hagerman wasn’t one to cry over spilled milk.

  “I can do the job.”

  Jeb nodded. “Go clean up.” Hagerman nodded and walked past Jeb with his head down. He pinched the bridge of his nose and counted to five before glaring at Katie.