She hung on until her nerves failed her. Then she threw her arms up in front of her face, but her foot never left the accelerator. She felt a thud that vibrated the very frame of the car. An instant later, a boom of thunder echoed. A fierce shattering made her cringe beneath the fragile protection of her arms. An awful, rending sound of wood giving way hurt her ears. Glass rained down, sounding like crystal hail as it bounced on the roof of the car. Her foot slipped off the pedal, and the car came to a shuddering halt.
Thunder. Dear God, it hadn't been thunder. It had been a shot. Chandra lowered her arms, knowing that if Daniel had shot Linc, she would quite simply keep right on going and run him down. Her gaze began to dart around the ruined office, but her view was impeded by the drapes the car had ripped from the wall. Before she could move to look around them, there was a sound at the open car door beside her.
"Scoot over, mermaid. Let's get the hell out of here."
Smothering a sob, she scrambled back to her seat. She was barely there when the coupé's engine revved; she heard the wheels spin, then dig in. She heard a shout from off to one side, but had no chance to look; Linc pushed her out of sight, below window level, and slammed the car into reverse.
The car tilted crazily as they backed through the hole she'd made, and skidded through the rubble. From where she was hunched over—thankfully, since her head was starting to spin—she could only guess where they were; the once perfect flower bed, the slick lawn, the brief second of normal tire-on-concrete sound as they crossed the sidewalk, then more slick grass. Then the solid thump and creak of springs as they went over the curb and back out onto the street.
God, please, she murmured silently, her heart hammering in her throat, don't let him come after us. Don't let the car break down, just keep it going, please…
They took a corner with a squeal of tires—all four, it seemed, intact—then the centrifugal pull eased as Linc straightened the car and drove on. Slowly, tentatively, Chandra sat up; Linc didn't stop her. She was shaking, and couldn't seem to stop.
"Nice house."
Her head snapped around to stare at him; he'd said it as casually as if he'd been waiting on the curb and she'd been the ride he'd expected.
"I wouldn't want to live there, though. Be afraid to toss a newspaper on the floor, or put my feet up." He glanced at her, giving her a crooked grin. "Bet you didn't have much to do with it."
Stunned by the offhand nonchalance of his voice and words, all she could do was shake her head.
"Thought so. It'd be a lot more real. Warmer, not like it came straight out of some trendy magazine. I'll bet you'd have a dog, too. Something with big feet and a silly grin."
Chandra watched him as he made a turn, driving with an economy of effort, as if they were merely out for an evening's air. She was vaguely aware that her shaking had eased, and the pounding of her heart had slowed.
"Always wanted a dog," he said as he glanced in the rearview mirror. "A big one. But my Dad was gone so much, and my mother threw a fit at the idea."
He made another turn, to the south this time, and she knew they were headed home. Funny, how a trim little sailboat had become home to her, more of a home than the big house they'd just left had ever been. And she also knew that Linc had been doing this, this nonstop rush of offhand chatter, to accomplish precisely that, to calm her down.
"I'm all right," she interrupted. "You can stop now."
He glanced at her, as if a little startled. Then he smiled. "Good. I was running out of steam."
Chandra doubted that. He would have kept going as long as necessary. And he did it so well, she thought, rambling on about mundane things, things so far removed from the present danger that for a while you forgot about it. He did it with ease, as if he'd done it a million times before. Which, she realized suddenly, he probably had.
"Did it work with your mother, too?"
He was genuinely startled this time, but after a moment his smile widened into a grin. "Sometimes."
Chandra looked at him for a long moment before saying quietly, "It was hell for you, too, wasn't it? All I could think about was what hell she must have gone through, worrying about you … but it was just as hard for you, being torn between her and your work, wasn't it?"
Linc looked out through the windshield—the windshield that had a hairline crack now, running from the center around to the passenger side—as if concentrating on traffic, although there wasn't much at this late hour.
"It was hard," he said at last. "And I'd seen what it did to my dad, being torn in half like that. When I graduated from the academy, I swore I would never get … that I would never put a woman through what my mother went through. Or myself through what my Dad went through."
So that's why he'd never married, Chandra thought. She smothered the little sigh that rose from deep inside her. This was something she'd never dared think about; what would happen when this was over, one way or another. Deep down she knew, but it was so very hard to admit that he would walk away, that she would never see him again.
"How did you know I needed help in there?"
The sudden question brought her out of her painful thoughts. "I knew he had the gun in the safe. And his voice changed … like it does when he's made up his mind. I knew he'd use it. I couldn't see why else he admitted everything, unless he planned to—"
"Kill me? Yes, he did. And he would have had me, too, if you hadn't come blasting right through the damned wall."
Admiration echoed in his voice, and it warmed her to the core, flicked to life some cold part of her that had lain dormant for so many years.
"I thought … if I hit the window … it runs almost to the floor…"
"It worked. He was so astonished his shot went right through the ceiling. And it gave me a chance to shove him over the desk and get out of there."
"I never even saw him."
"More important, he never saw you. You're still safe, Channie."
That hadn't even been her first thought, she realized with a little shock. She'd almost wanted to see him, wanted to see if he was still the overpowering, intimidating man he'd always seemed to her. The idea startled her, and she sat for a long time in silence, pondering it.
Linc stopped once, when they were a safe distance away, to get out and look at the car. He bent over the front end, grabbed something and pulled, jaw clenching as muscles strained. She heard the creak of bending metal, then an odd crack. Linc bent over farther, gave something a yank. Then he came back, tossing something in the back seat. Chandra's eyes followed it naturally; it was flat, curved at one end, and painted the same dark blue as the car.
"Spoiler," Linc said as he got back in and closed the door. "It's fiberglass, so it broke right off. And the bumper was bent a bit, but not too bad. Grill's a little tweaked, and we lost a headlight, but the radiator seems okay. Windshield's probably the worst damage."
"Oh." Lord, she'd wrecked a car she didn't even own. A car Linc was responsible for.
"Relax," he said as he pulled back out onto the road. "We'll get it fixed." Then he flashed her a grin. "You and Shiloh," he said.
"What?"
"Con had to fix her Blazer after she ran it down the side of a hill, when some black hats were after them, shooting at her. Looks like my ol' buddy and I are doomed to be rescued by reckless women drivers. Thanks, mermaid."
Chandra gaped at him. Even the idea of being coupled with Shiloh in any kind of heroic rescue seemed ludicrous, yet Linc seemed absolutely, if teasingly, serious. All she'd done, she thought, was the only thing she could think of. She'd been not brave but desperate, as she'd always been, and she didn't know what to do with his thanks.
She was still thinking about it when Linc pulled off the street and up next to a bank of pay phones at a closed, deserted gas station. She looked at him questioningly.
"I've got to make some calls, honey. Get things rolling before Lansing has a chance to pack up and run."
"Oh." She barely managed to get it out; her heart ha
d leapt to her throat with that casual endearment, and it wouldn't seem to move. She stared as he dug into his pocket and brought out some change.
"Here," he said, flipping her a quarter. "Do me a favor, will you? I've got to call Dad and get some names. Call Con for me, will you? He'll be wondering, and I want him to know it went okay."
She stared at him. "It went okay?" She'd driven a car through what had been her own house, and he called that okay?
"Hey," he said with a shrug and a lopsided grin as he reached for the tape recorder, "thanks to you, we got away, didn't we? That's okay in my book."
With his words still warming her, she got out of the car, went to the phone next to the one he was already using, and dialed the number he'd rattled off to her.
"Yo."
The odd greeting threw her. "Shiloh?" she asked doubtfully.
"Chandra? Is that you?"
"Yes," she said, relieved.
"Sorry," Shy said. "It's an old habit. Just 'hello' is an alarm signal. Are you all right?"
"I'm … fine. So's Linc. He's on another phone, making some calls." She felt odd, somehow, knowing he was talking to his father right beside her.
"How'd it go?"
"Okay … so Linc says."
"You don't sound convinced. What happened?"
"I … he got what we needed."
"Great. But…?"
"I drove the car through a wall. Not your car," she hastened to add, but Shiloh was already laughing.
"You did? Why?"
"Daniel had a gun."
The laughter died. Shiloh listened to the rest of the story, interrupting only to tell Con, who had apparently come into the room with her. When Chandra had finished, there was a long moment of silence.
"Thank you," Shy whispered at last, "for my brother."
Chandra didn't know what to say to that impassioned gratitude, so she resorted to what Linc had told her. "Linc said you did some car wrecking of your own, once."
"Yep," Shiloh said, some of the laughter returning. "I'll tell you the whole, long story someday."
Someday, Chandra thought. As if Shy thought she would still be around, someday.
"Con wants to start making some calls, too. He'll love waking up his boss at this hour. Do you need anything? Can you get back all right?"
"I think so. Linc says the car's dented, but not dead. I cracked the windshield, though."
Shy's cheerful laugh echoed in the receiver. "Don't worry. Con knows where to get those replaced, cheap."
Chandra heard a deep, low voice in the background, muttering something about reckless women. And suddenly, to her own amazement, she giggled.
"Take care, Chandra. Tell the gorilla I love him, and we'll see you soon."
Chandra hung up, glancing at Linc who was intently speaking to someone. Someone of rank, or position, she guessed, judging from the respectful "sir," he was using. It was his third or fourth call, she thought, although she'd been so intent on her own conversation she couldn't be sure. Odd, how talking to Shiloh had been so comforting. Had she truly been so afraid of her? She was wonderful.
Chandra walked up to the front of the car and looked at the damage she'd done. It didn't look so bad now, but then Linc had somewhat straightened the bumper, and the dragging piece of fiberglass was gone. She leaned against the fender, huddling deeper into Shy's jacket. She could hear Linc's voice, but not the words, as he talked into the receiver.
Could it be possible, she wondered? Could they really bring Daniel down, put an end to his evil? Could she really be a part of the good, at last, winning out?
It seemed hours before Linc hung up for the last time. He turned to her, and she saw him let out a long breath.
"I think they bought it. That guy works for the SEC. He's a friend of a friend of my father's. I played the tape, told him the story. He thinks it's enough, as long as…"
Linc stopped, looking at her uneasily.
"As long as what? As long as they catch him?"
"Yes," Linc said after a moment. "They're going to try to pick him up right away. It's just a question of whether they can move fast enough. I'm sure we spooked Lansing, although he can't be sure who we are. For all he knows, you were just a backup I arranged. But I don't think it'll take him long to decide to cut his losses and run."
"What if he gets away?" she asked, shaken by the idea.
"They'll find him. Eventually." He gathered up the recorder and reached for her hand. "Come on. It's cold out here. I gave them the number for the boat, they'll call me there when there's anything to report. Let's head home."
Home. It sounded so wonderful, especially on his lips. Home. As if it were theirs, a home that the two of them shared, complete. And she knew in that moment she would trade the huge, palatial mansion for a thirty-six foot sailboat in an instant, as long as Linc was there. She tugged the makeshift scarf from her hair and wadded it up in her hands; she needed something to hold.
She was afraid to look at him on the long drive back to the marina, afraid that her emotions would be written all over her face. He read her so well, he couldn't help but see what she was feeling. She'd called herself a fool before, but never had she felt it to be so true as now, for even daring to wish that there was a chance for her, with him.
He seemed absorbed in his own thoughts—probably glad it would soon be over, she thought bitterly—and said nothing. His only sound was a small breath of relief as he pulled the car into the marina parking lot. He parked it next to his sister's Blazer, angled so that the damage was hidden. She looked at it, knowing it was safe enough, that Daniel had no idea who Linc really was or where he'd be, and that he wouldn't dare report what had happened to the police, but it still made her nervous. Linc never even glanced at it as they walked toward the gate to the dock.
"You hungry?" he asked suddenly, not looking at her as he unlocked the knob and held the metal gate open.
Her head snapped up. "No."
"Me either." He closed the gate and relocked it before they started down the gangway, still not looking at her. "Takes a while to settle down, after."
"After what?" His casualness was beginning to wear on her. "Facing a murderer?"
He did look at her then, one corner of his mouth quirking upward. "No. After having my life saved by a woman who won't admit to her own courage."
He didn't give her a chance to speak before he climbed aboard the Shiloh II and unhooked the lifelines so she could board. He unlocked the new hasp, and opened the main hatchway. The first thing he did when he went down into the cabin was to flip on the radiophone, then, when he turned back and saw Chandra shiver, the heater.
"How about some hot chocolate?" he suggested.
Chandra nodded. She didn't have the heart to tell him her trembling had little to do with being cold, and everything to do with the close call he'd had tonight. And oddly, now that they were back, and relatively safe, she felt a return of that nausea that had nearly swamped her as she'd sat in the car tonight, watching Linc leave to fight her battle for her.
"Excuse me," she said, scooting past him toward the head, wondering if she could control her stomach long enough to get there.
It was several minutes after her stomach was thoroughly empty before she trusted herself to come out. She had vaguely heard Linc talking, and wondered if he'd called Con despite the late hour. But when she opened the door to come back into the main cabin, she realized he was using that same tone he'd used on his earlier call.
"—thank you, sir. I appreciate the call." He heard her walk into the cabin, and looked over his shoulder. He grinned, giving her a thumbs-up, but Chandra barely noticed; he'd pulled his shirt off to remove the microphone, and all she could see or think about was the width of his shoulders, and the strong, carved muscles of his back. "Yes, sir, I'll work on that. I think it will be all right. Thanks again."
He hung up the microphone and turned toward her. She could see the slightly reddened spot on his chest where he'd pulled off the adhesive tape, betw
een the twin swells of muscle. She wanted to touch the spot, kiss it, ease the abraded skin. She wrenched her gaze up to his face.
"They got him."
Her eyes widened. "Daniel?" she whispered, as if they could be talking about anyone else.
Linc nodded. "At LAX. He was already running. Had a lot of cash on him, and some bearer bonds worth several hundred thousand. And they found an account number in his wallet that looks like it might be from a Swiss bank."
Chandra's brow furrowed. "He was … ready to run?"
Linc nodded again. "I'd say he was covering all the bases. Just in case. If your body had washed up, he probably would have felt comfortable. But when you weren't found, and then I showed up…" He shrugged. "It'll be a toss-up to see who gets him first, the SEC for the stock fraud, the FDA for probable falsification of records and test results, or the local authorities for murder and attempted murder."
"It's over? It's really over?"
Linc hesitated, then said soothingly, "He'll never hurt you again. Or anyone else."
"Oh, God." Her voice was tight, choked. Linc reached out for her, pulling her into his arms.
"It's all right, honey," he said soothingly, lowering his head to rest on the pale silk of her hair. "It's all right. He'll be locked up like the animal he is, for a very long time."
Chandra shivered, and Linc's arms tightened around her. He knew it was reaction, knew from experience that the letdown afterward was sometimes worse than the crisis itself.
"Oh, it was awful," she moaned. "Watching you go, knowing I was letting you do my fighting for me—"
"Hush, honey," he said, lifting one hand to smooth her hair. "You saved us both in the end, remember?"
"But that…" She stopped, gulping, then went on. "That doesn't change that I let you do it. God, I hated myself so!"
Her words tore at him. He'd thought she'd begun to realize, to see the truth. "Channie, no—"
"I did. I just sat there, like a terrified sheep, and let the man I love risk his life doing something I should have done."
Linc froze. "What?"
"I should have done it, should have confronted Daniel, not you."
TO HOLD AN EAGLE Page 21