Troubled Waters

by Rachelle Mccalla

  Below, Trevor pulled out a pair of handcuffs and linked one ring over Tracie’s wrist before coupling it to his own. Only once she was securely cuffed to him did he send the gunmen out, though he kept an assault rifle slung over his shoulder.

  Heath’s heart beat so hard he could feel it in his throat. With every breath he prayed God would somehow get Tracie out of there, though he couldn’t imagine what it would take. He felt completely helpless watching the events unfold below him, unable to do anything to stop them.

  In spite of her circumstances, however, it appeared Tracie still had the presence of mind to do something. Though Heath couldn’t see her face from his vantage point high above, her body language seemed to indicate she was talking to Trevor. She extended her free hand toward him and laid her palm against his suit jacket, then tossed her long, loose hair back.

  Suddenly, in a move that caused him to startle and nearly lose his perch on the roof, Tracie swung her leg high, delivering a perfect roundkick to Trevor’s temple. Her captor dropped with a thud Heath heard through the snow-packed roof. Tracie’s ruse had worked. Trevor hadn’t even seen the kick coming.

  As Heath watched from above, Tracie sprang into action, patting down Trevor’s pockets, pulling out a ring of keys and freeing herself from the handcuffs. Quickly she cuffed Trevor to a narrow spot on the carved bedpost, below where the ornate carving spread wider, effectively trapping him. Then she took his gun and slid the strap over her own shoulder before looking around. Heath saw her hesitate as she faced the door. There were probably armed men on the other side. No, her odds wouldn’t be good if she went through there. She took a few tentative steps in the direction of the door.

  Heath took advantage of her distance from the skylight and drove the heel of his shoe as hard as he could through the skylight. Though it proved to be tough tempered glass, it was no match for his pent-up fury, and it shattered, spilling glass shards onto Trevor’s still body below.

  “Tracie!” Heath called as she spun around and looked up.

  A welcome grin broke out on her face as she recognized him. For a second, all he could do was grin foolishly back. Then he realized they might not have much time. Even if there was no alarm on the skylight, the men would likely have heard the crash of breaking glass. They could come rushing in at any moment.

  “Hop up on the bed,” Heath instructed in a hushed voice as he used the soles of his shoes to clear the glass shards from the sill, then leaned as much of his body as possible down through the gaping skylight.

  Tracie stretched upward, her hands still a few feet below his. Glancing about, she grabbed a silken, bronze-colored throw that was draped across a bench by the fireplace, and tried tossing it up to him, but the lightweight material taunted them both by drifting lazily down before ever so much as tickling the tips of his fingers.

  With a nervous glance to the still-unconscious Trevor, Tracie snatched up the ring of keys she’d used to unlock the handcuffs and quickly tied the key ring to the tassels on one end of the drape. This time, when she flung it upward, Heath grabbed it easily.

  As soon as Tracie had a tight hold on the other end, he began to haul her up, his injured back crying out in protest. She was nearly level with the skylight when Trevor groaned and opened his eyes. Curses erupted from Trevor’s mouth as he reached for Tracie and grabbed hold of her foot.

  TWELVE

  Heath flung himself backward down the roof. For a moment, he feared Tracie’s tenuous gasp on the silky fabric would fail and she’d be pulled back down into the room below. But she held on tight and he pulled her free, half falling down the roof with her tumbling after him.

  Trevor’s angry shouts echoed up through the open skylight as Heath and Tracie scrambled through the deep snow toward where he’d left his snowmobile. He didn’t have time to stop and put on his snowshoes, but he figured Tracie was far worse off in her open high heels. She flung the drape around her shoulders, the lightweight fabric offering her otherwise bare arms meager protection against the bitter cold.

  “You drive,” he shouted as they reached the snowmobile. She hopped into the seat and scooted forward, making room for him to jump on behind. He pulled the keys from his pocket and cranked the engine. She tore out just as the door opened behind them and armed men came spilling out.

  “Where to?” she shouted over her shoulder.

  “This way.” He reached his arms around hers and steered them toward the road, trying to cover as much of her body as possible with his. Not only was she undoubtedly freezing, but he knew there was no way she was wearing adequate body armor under her dress. Once again, he’d have to shield her from whatever shots were fired.

  “Want me to turn on the headlight?”

  “Let’s not make ourselves a target,” he said straight into her ear as her loose hair spilled over him. “The moon is bright enough for us to see.” He kept his arms around her and pointed them toward the distant marina.

  Headlight or not, the guys in the SUVs behind them didn’t seem to have any trouble keeping up. Tracie left the road and took off across country, making the most direct path toward the harbor, but it didn’t stop their pursuers. They turned onto the drifting snow and followed them.

  “Where am I headed?” Tracie asked as they neared the marina, bullets whizzing past them as they went.

  “I don’t know. The pier?”

  “What’s our getaway vehicle?”

  “This is our getaway vehicle.” He thumped his hand on the snowmobile’s handlebar.

  Tracie groaned but gunned it for the pier. In spite of the deep snow, the four-wheel-drive vehicles were still behind them, fishtailing like crazy but refusing to get stuck or fall behind. Heath felt a bullet strike the broad steel plate that shielded his back. “Keep your head down!” he instructed Tracie as he ducked as low as he dared.

  He flinched as a bullet grazed the back of his leg. The SUVs were closing in behind them, but they drew closer to the pier, where a lone black speedboat sat in the thin film of ice at the end of the dock.

  “Looks like something Trevor would drive,” Tracie muttered as she headed for it. She pointed the nose of the snowmobile directly at the long pier. With the end of the dock racing toward them, Tracie slowed the snowmobile, braking hard as they slid toward where the dock dropped off into open water. For a second, Heath feared they’d overshot it, but the snowmobile screeched to a halt on the wooden planking just before the end. They dived into the boat.

  There was nowhere else to go, and the four-wheel drives were nearly to the pier. Given enough time, he may have been able to hotwire the boat, but their pursuers were far too close. Heath grabbed the rifle Tracie had slung over her shoulder and wondered how many bad guys he could pick off before they took him out. It would depend on how drastically they were outnumbered.

  “Stay down!” Heath shouted as Tracie rushed to the helm. He crouched low and turned to face their pursuers.

  “I think I can start the boat,” Tracie called back to him. “I still have Trevor’s keys.”

  Or at least that’s what he thought he heard. He’d started shooting, taking out the front tire of the lead vehicle as it closed in on them, causing it to skid sideways and block most of the road. Another SUV slammed into it while a third swerved wide, careening up on two wheels before slamming back down and continuing on.

  Heath aimed at its tires.

  Suddenly he heard an engine starting up behind him, and a split second later, their boat began to move. He took out a tire on the third SUV, then noticed the rope unfurling from their boat as they moved away from the pier.

  “Wait a second, we’re still tied up,” he cautioned Tracie as the boat began to build its speed.

  “I’m not waiting for anything. Take care of it,” she snapped back.

  Heath aimed the gun at the mooring and snapped the line with a single shot. “Got it.”

  The men jumped from their vehicles ran to the end of the pier. They raised their guns and took aim.

  �
��Down!” Heath shouted, throwing himself toward Tracie. He covered her with his body while she held down the throttle with her hands, and he reached one arm up, keeping the steering wheel steady while bullets glanced off the rails above them. They didn’t have to look where they were going. There was nothing but open water in front of them for the next thirty miles. The boat sped into the silent night.

  “Stay down,” Heath insisted as Tracie began to wriggle from his grasp.

  “I think we’re clear,” she whispered.

  He waited another moment until the sound of gunfire had faded away completely, aware of how ice-cold her bare arms felt under his fingers in the freezing night air. Finally he relaxed and poked his head up. There was nothing but fog and the silent sea around them. Even the shoreline had disappeared.

  Tracie slowed the motor somewhat when she realized they were all alone in the middle of the vast, open sea. She slid herself up onto the captain’s chair before she caught her breath and began to shiver, for the first time granting herself the luxury of wondering what Heath was doing rescuing her, anyway. He looked amazing in his tuxedo, which only made her feel more confused about how she was supposed to respond to him.

  When Heath quickly peeled off his jacket and threw it over her shoulders, Tracie slid her arms through the sleeves, too cold to protest his gracious offer. The jacket held his familiar smell. She pulled it tight around her, telling herself she needed the warmth more than the comfort it brought her.

  “How did you get the boat started?” he asked, his arms draped over her shoulders.

  “I still had Trevor’s keys.” She shrugged, attempting to casually throw off his arms. She was still far too angry at his betrayal to allow him to get close to her again. She’d learned her lesson. “Can you take the wheel while I look for a blanket or something?” The slender windshield of the open boat offered little protection from the bitterly cold night air. “Sure.”

  Though she noticed Heath hobbling slightly as he lowered himself into the seat, she told herself she didn’t care what his condition was. After all, he’d lied to her and betrayed her. Anyway, at the moment, she cared a lot more about finding a way of keeping herself warm. She had plenty of questions to ask him, but her interrogation could wait until she stopped freezing so badly. She could barely feel her frozen feet as she stumbled toward the benches that lined the sides of the boat.

  Moving the cushion out of the way, she lifted the seat and peeked into the storage space below, rummaging tentatively with her hands in the darkness. “Life jackets, life jackets,” she muttered, pushing them aside. They wouldn’t offer much warmth. Then she pulled out a box. “Hey, this is a Coast Guard first-aid kit. Trevor must have stolen it.”

  “I doubt there’s any law he hasn’t broken,” Heath said.

  She closed the lid and tried the benches on the other side. “At least he thought to steal some Coast Guard blankets, too.” She pulled the blankets out. “These are the best you can get for warding off hypothermia.” She wrapped one around her shoulders and carried the other two back to the captain’s seat where Heath had one eye on the compass, keeping the boat pointed straight south in spite of the fog. He snapped on the headlights, but the thick fog only reflected the light back in a solid wall. He turned the headlights off again.

  “I can take the wheel,” she offered.

  Heath rose slowly, grimacing as he attempted to straighten his right leg.

  “What’s wrong? Did you pull a muscle?”

  “I’ll be fine. They just nicked me.” He accepted the blanket she offered him and pulled it over his shoulders.

  The man was too stubbornly strong for his own good. Tracie felt concern for him rising in spite of the anger she held toward him. “With a bullet? Do you need first aid?” She turned back for the first aid kit she’d seen.

  “I don’t think it’s too bad. Honestly.”

  His self-assessment meant nothing to Tracie, knowing what injuries he’d previously disregarded. She grabbed the first-aid kit and crouched down to inspect the damp spot halfway between his ankle and his knee. Heath clicked on a small light above the helm.

  Tracie rolled up the cuff of his pants and was relieved to find the cut wasn’t very deep, though it still wasn’t pretty. “You’ve got to stop getting shot at,” she chided him, searching through the first-aid kit for the right size bandage.

  “Only if you do,” he chided her back, then reached for the radio. “I’m going to try to call in the cavalry to pick up Trevor. I don’t know how fast those guys will be able to change their tires in this snow, but they’ll be sitting ducks for a couple more minutes, at least.”

  Tracie listened while Heath contacted his FBI pals and conveyed the information they’d need to nab Trevor and his cronies. He sounded frustrated as he attempted to sort out what had happened back at the gala.

  “Oleg and Olaf appeared to be working for Trevor,” he noted. “I don’t know if somebody got their wires crossed or what.” He ran an anxious hand down over his face while the person on the other end reported that two agents had been tied up in the basement, and another had awakened in the closet with no memory of how he’d gotten there.

  “I don’t know who’s calling the shots on this one,” Heath began, only to be cut off.

  Tracie couldn’t quite make out the response, but Heath’s reaction was clear.

  “He wasn’t anywhere I could see. Goodman may be a maverick but he’s not sloppy. Anyway, we did the hard work already. Just make sure they don’t get away. Thanks.” Heath sighed and set the radio back in place, shaking his head.

  Tracie finished gently pressing a large bandage daubed with antibacterial ointment into place over the wound on Heath’s leg. He reached for her.

  She tried to shake her head at him, but she felt so stiff from the cold she could barely move. Her teeth began to chatter convulsively.

  “Here, we’ve got to get you warm.” He locked the steering wheel into position and stood, wrapping his arms around Tracie as she straightened.

  Tracie wanted to fight him. The last thing she needed to do was snuggle into his arms—he’d already used that trick to wriggle his way into her heart before. But she hadn’t known he was investigating her when she’d let him get close the first time. Now she knew better.

  Still, she felt so cold, and as the terror of what she’d just experienced began to sink in, she shivered both inside and out. She promised herself she wouldn’t allow her feelings for him to get the best of her as she leaned against the warmth of his solid frame. Summoning up some of the anger she felt toward him, she infused its snap into her voice. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

  “I had to come after you.”

  “Why? Is that part of your investigation? Do you still think I might be in cahoots with Trevor?” She spat out the words, welcoming the fresh pain of his betrayal. She needed to remember why she couldn’t trust him before she relaxed her guard and let him hurt her again.

  “No. It wasn’t my theory. You were part of the assignment, that’s all. I never meant to hurt you—all I wanted was to learn the truth.”

  “By living a lie?”

  “I did my job.” Heath’s shoulders tensed around her, as though he was wrestling with what to tell her. “Believe me, once I got to know you, I wished I could just be myself.”

  His words made it sound as though he’d been playing a role with her. Tracie wondered how much of the man she’d fallen in love with really existed, and how much was just an act. She had obviously never really known him. Her heart hurt even more than her feet, which were throbbing from the pain of the cold and their tribulation inside the impractical footwear they’d been forced into for so long. She blinked into the night sky, for the first time realizing how thickly the fog blanketed their tiny boat.

  “Are you sure being out here in the middle of the lake is a good idea?” she asked.

  “We’re going to be fine,” Heath insisted. “God provided us with this boat, and you with the keys. He’ll s
ee us through.” Heath met Tracie’s eyes, facing her fear with certainty. “I know He will.”

  “Since when are you and God so close?” she asked, her voice almost a whisper.

  “Since I almost lost you.” He pulled his arms tighter around her, drawing her more snugly against him. “I made a mistake, Tracie. I never should have kept my true identity a secret from you. But if I hadn’t been assigned to investigate you, we never would have met, so I can’t regret my assignment too much. Can you forgive me?”

  “Forgive you?” She peeked warily up from the warm shelter of the blanket. “I don’t know how I can ever trust you again. I pushed aside my own personal policy to get close to you because I thought you were someone I could trust, and look how it turned out. You fulfilled my worst fears.”

  Heath didn’t know how to respond to Tracie’s rejection. Still, she was cold enough to let him hold her, and he savored the feel of her in his arms. He wished there was some way he could go back in time and change things, to do it all again a different way so she wouldn’t have been deceived. It wasn’t just the fact that he’d betrayed her—it was the result of that betrayal. She’d ended up fed to the lions, walking alone straight into Trevor’s trap. His heart bled for her and the fear she must have felt.

  “I’m so proud of you,” he told her softly as he stared ahead into the fog.

  “Why?” she sniffed.

  “You took out Trevor. I watched you from the skylight. I wanted to dive down and rescue you, but I didn’t have to. You rescued yourself. It was amazing to watch. He never saw it coming.”

  Tracie peeked up at him again, the corners of her eyes curling into the slightest of smiles. “I chained him to his bed, too. Just like he chained Gunnar to the table.” Her expression sobered. “But then I didn’t know how I was going to get out of there. There were so many armed men, I didn’t know how I could possibly fight them alone.”