Her gaze moved lower to his foot pressed firmly against the brake pedal. But the car didn’t slow, in fact sped up a bit. Lucy glanced back out the window and stared in frozen silence. They were going down a slight incline. For longer than a split second, her lungs malfunctioned.
“Hold on.” Releasing the wheel to shift into a lower gear, Jack maintained control of the car, but even as the whining of the engine increased, their speed didn’t seem to decrease. Second by second, they edged closer to the car in front of them while passing a big rig on their right.
Lucy gripped the grab handle above the door as her heart raced. Just when she thought for sure they’d collide, Jack jerked the wheel to pass on the right with barely enough room to squeeze in between the car they were about to hit and the big rig now riding their bumper in the rearview mirror.
Thankfully the BMW had enough momentum to pull ahead of the truck and to pass the car on their left. Then just before Jack hit another upcoming car, he jerked back over to the left. This time he had some maneuvering room as the car up ahead was a quarter mile away. But the Beemer was catching up fast. Jack had to be doing eighty. When they got close to the tan Toyota, Jack again had to pass on the right, missing two cars, the one in front and the one behind, by inches.
Lucy cringed, knowing they were going to die. She looked back, noting the startled driver’s reaction. The guy probably thought Jack was nuts. By now, the decline had ended, followed by a relatively flat stretch of road. After several seconds, the car lost most of its gained momentum, but was still going too fast until they reached a slow incline. Thank God.
Jack made use of it, slowing the car gradually and pulling off the road, but still on the pavement. Her glance landed on the speedometer. They were still going over thirty miles per hour, which didn’t sound like a lot. Unless you couldn’t stop. Eventually he veered onto the grass and dirt, downshifting to third, then second gear as rough road came at them fast and furious. Lucy watched the dial go lower…twenty …then fifteen…and ten . Finally, engaging the clutch, he shoved the stick into first and just turned the key off. They continued rolling as the engine died, and when he released the clutch, the BMW jerked to an abrupt stop.
Neither moved for the longest time—hours it seemed—when probably only seconds had elapsed.
Jack wiped his face and inhaled a deep breath. “That was close,” he said softly. Palpable tension radiated off his body like steam rising from a hot bath.
Lucy swallowed hard. Her attention went beyond his shoulder to outside the rear window. A steady stream of cars and big rigs zoomed by, oblivious to their plight. “We could have had a serious accident, maybe even been killed.”
“I’m not convinced about the accident part.”
“What are you suggesting?” Unable to control the tingle of fear creeping over her, she threw Jack a concerned look and tried to read some kind of meaning into his statement.
“I’m not suggesting anything. I’m asserting an opinion based on facts.” His eyes and expression were as hard as granite. “I just had the car serviced two weeks ago and I’ve never had a problem with the brakes.”
“Someone tampered with your brakes?” she asked more than alarmed.
“Don’t know. But it’s damned coincidental, don’t you think?”
“Yeah.” She nodded as a memory registered. “I noticed another white van drive by the motel, similar to the van that peeled out of Cassie’s apartment parking lot like a criminal escaping the scene of a crime.” Her gaze swept the busy freeway once more. “You know, my company owns a couple of white vans. What if there’s a connection?”
Jack murmured something about an overactive imagination.
Lucy snorted, wrinkling her nose in annoyance. She might have considered it imagination earlier, but now she wasn’t so willing, not when, by his own admission, this was too coincidental. Gerald had been most insistent that she cease and desist her investigation. What if there was a more sinister reason behind her boss’ warning. Rather than mentioning her thoughts only to have them dismissed, Lucy instead asked, “So, what now?”
“Now we get help.” Jack pulled out his cell phone. “And we get out of the car and away from traffic, just in case some idiot rear-ends us because we’re here and a target.” He shoved the door open. “Come on.” He climbed out, ran around to the other side to help her out, and then, still maintaining his grip on her arm, led Lucy away from the cars and trucks zooming by at top speed.
Warmth radiating from above hit her shoulders. Lucy hiked behind some boulders to a partially shaded area. But even out of the sun, it was hot. She glanced around. Heat rose off the interstate’s blacktop in waves, distorting the horizon, making it appear fluid and floating. Looking up, Lucy noted a crystal-clear sky. Not one cloud marred the perfection. Or offered any relief.
Jack sat on the rock next to her, held his cell phone in front of him, and searched one-handed through the directory. Eventually he punched in a number. “Yeah, I need a tow truck.” After giving the operator the specifics, he disconnected. “Now we wait, and once we get back to town, we take evasive action.”
After a few minutes, Jack stood and began pacing. Observing him from her perch on the flat boulder, Lucy lifted the hair off her neck and waved her purse, stirring hot air.
An hour and a half later, she was still waving her purse in an effort to stay cool, even as Jack continued wearing a rut in the dirt. Just watching the nervous energy roll off him in waves exhausted her. The entire time he’d paced, Lucy’s mind hadn’t shut off to all that had happened in the last twenty-four hours.
Lucy was dying to call Mike to get him started researching Manny Graves. Keeping her eye on Jack, she determined he wasn’t paying her any attention, so she pulled up Mike’s number in her address book and hit the Send button. Within seconds, Mike’s voice crackled in her ear, but it was a recorded message, not Mike. She turned away from Jack and lowered her voice. Then she left a long message detailing three things: what had happened, her suspicions, and what she needed him to do. As she disconnected, her thoughts centered on Gerald Duncan’s convenient arrival yesterday at the motel, along with the white van she’d seen today. Twice.
Lucy decided to check out the sleazoid’s house later tonight. See if she could find any connection to her boss or to Cardello. That is, if she could persuade Jack to cooperate. Lucy slanted him a glance, wondering if she should mention her plans, along with her suspicious thoughts right now. She shook her head. No. Not yet. He’d already scoffed at her earlier suspicions. Having few illusions about his loyalty and knowing he’d only defend his friends’ actions, she silently watched him, becoming more convinced that both Duncan and Cardello were somehow in bed together and the two were connected to the sleazoid at the motel.
Another hour crawled by.
Swatting at a flying insect buzzing around her head, Lucy tapped her toe in the dirt and glanced at her cell phone. She shifted, trying to get comfortable. The rock beneath her bottom was getting harder by the minute and even worse, she had to go to the bathroom. She checked out the road up ahead again and saw no sign of a tow truck. Why hadn’t she taken the time to use Cassie’s bathroom? She groaned at the obvious answer. Lucy hadn’t planned on a three-hour delay. “When do you think the tow truck will get here?”
“Your guess is as good as mine.” Jack swiped at the sweat streaking down the side of his face. He moved to sit next to her.
Moisture had saturated Lucy’s red T-shirt and the cotton stuck to her back. Her jeans were like a furnace. Why had she ever worn them when it was god-awful hot out? No wind to speak of and they’d lost most their shade as the sun moved lower on the horizon. The heat beat against her shoulders. It was past four, which meant their only relief would be the tow truck. Suddenly, it seemed too much. “You talked to the guy,” she said, waving her purse like a fan, which did little good. She slammed it down next to her, subduing an urge to kick something. “Didn’t he give you a time frame?”
“He sai
d he’d be here in a while.”
“Well, it’s been several hours. I’d say that defines a while,” she snapped. “Can’t you call him again?” Lucy frowned and stood to stretch out the kinks in her back, knocking her purse off the boulder at the same time. While eyeing the bag on the ground, one thought would not stop bothering her. Gerald, and how he’d known that she’d be at the motel yesterday. He had the means—top-notch equipment—and could easily track her. She thought of the bugs she’d used in her job, along with some of the most sophisticated high-tech tracking devices. “I’m still not convinced Gerald Duncan isn’t part of this along with Cardello.”
The words were out before Lucy could stop them, and she could kick herself when Jack spun around and eyed her warily. Damn, it wasn’t as if she didn’t know exactly how he’d view her accusation.
“You’re not going to start on that again, are you?”
She reminded him of the van they’d spotted. “Maybe he’s tailing me.”
“I doubt it.” Chuckling, Jack brushed the notion away with a wave of his hand. “He has no motive.”
Straightening, she clenched her fists at her side. “Then tell me, Jack.” She angled her head to look him squarely in the eyes. “How is it that Cardello’s niece is hanging out with Marci and the others?”
That drew a reaction, but it was gone so quickly, she wasn’t sure what kind until his accusing voice hit her ears. “You had no business stealing her phone.”
Luy gritted her teeth and smiled. “I’m a private investigator. Remember? Besides, she got it back, so no harm, no foul, and I learned something useful. Something you didn’t bother to tell me.” Ignoring his irritated glare, she prodded, “So, answer my question? What was she doing there?” Then remembering that Kim appeared to be the leader of the pack, she added, “She’s definitely a connection. My guess is Duncan’s working for Cardello who hired him because Cassie was closing in on Kim Darlinski. Maybe Cassie uncovered some mean girl conspiracy that’s related to Reecie’s death?”
Didn’t matter that his expression said “no way” louder than if he’d shouted the words through a megaphone. Those pieces of the puzzle seemed to connect. Still paying his denial no attention, Lucy let her mind spin faster, unable to relinquish her suspicions now that she’d finally verbalized them. Yet if they were responsible, what had they done with Cassie? Had they kidnapped her until the election was over, hoping to keep her quiet? Was Duncan now following her because she’d taken Cassie’s place and messed up their efforts? And what about the sleazoid at the motel?
On a whim, Lucy grabbed her purse off the ground, dumped the contents on the rock beside her, and went through them item by item.
“What the hell are you doing?” Jack asked, eyeing her more warily.
“Checking for a tracking device.”
Laughter filled the air. “Good God, lady, you’ve got to rein in that imagination before your accusations do some damage.”
Lucy stilled the urge to plant one into him and continued her search. When her fingers hit something underneath the fabric of a zippered compartment, she quickly unzipped it and voilà. She held up the little transmitter. “Well, Mr. You’ve-got-to-rein-in-your-imagination, what do you make of this?” She was just about to tell him what he could do with his answer when a tow truck entered her line of vision and pulled up in front of Jack’s BMW.
“Thank God for small favors and diversions,” Lucy said under her breath, still clutching the small device. She dropped it back into her purse, then turned to follow Jack with one thought. Get as far away as possible from him. That way she could continue her search because she couldn’t dismiss another idea that had crept into her brain. He was somehow part of it.
Hell, she wasn’t even sure the brakes had gone out. After all, he easily brought the car to a halt. Almost too easily. What if it was a ploy to put her off guard?
Chapter 17
Jack parked the rental right in front of Lucy’s house and slanted her a quick glance at the same moment she looked over at him. Her eyes held a wariness that hadn’t been there earlier. In fact, suspicion poured out of every cell in her body. He swallowed hard, knowing he was partly to blame. He shouldn’t have laughed at her imaginings. Not when the brakes on his car had failed. Plus, his defense of his friends had only made her more mistrustful.
How Lucy could believe either man was responsible was beyond him, despite finding a transmitter. Anyone could have planted it. But she obviously believed the worst, and the entire time in the tow truck, on the way to the garage and then to and from the rental car agency, she’d remained uncharacteristically calm and eerily quiet.
It would have been better if she’d yelled at him. That she hadn’t, concerned him. He had to figure out her next moves. Neither Frank Cardello nor Gerald Duncan would track her. Not without telling him. Nor would either man tamper with his brakes. But Olivia Cardello? That was another story. Jack wouldn’t put anything past that bitch to protect her husband. And therein lay his worst fear.
He grabbed the door handle as Lucy said, “Don’t bother. I’m really beat. How about we pick up the trail tomorrow?”
Taken aback, Jack released the open door and turned her way. “I’ve already told you, I’m not leaving you alone. Especially after what just happened.”
Her chin rose. She met his gaze with a lethal stare, throwing out those usual mental daggers. “Well, I really don’t want your company right now.”
“What about Reecie’s date book?” he asked, holding on to his temper. Her “bite me” attitude was back and was something he’d come to expect. Was also something he could handle. Still, having this particular conversation annoyed him no end.
“It’ll have to wait until tomorrow.” When his eyebrows lifted in a disbelieving arch, she shrugged. “Nothing I’ve done so far has worked to find Cassie and my mind’s not functioning right now. I need a clear head to figure out what to do next,” she admitted. “Especially if Gerald and Cardello are behind her disappearance.”
Jack stiffened slightly and his jaw tightened. “Look, Lucy.” He cleared his throat, but she reached over and placed her hand on his shoulder.
“I’m well aware of your thoughts on the subject, considering your earlier reaction,” she said, squeezing reassuringly, which did little to reassure him. “I promise not to accuse them until I have proof.”
That’s what he was afraid of, or rather how she went about getting proof. Counting to ten, he wiped his face with his hand, reaching for patience. “Exactly how do you intend to get that proof?” Still maintaining eye contact, Jack asked, “And what happens if you don’t find proof? What next?” He suspected that regardless of her answer, it wouldn’t bode well for his task of keeping her in line.
Lucy shrugged. “I have no idea what I’ll do next.”
“Which is why you need a keeper,” he murmured, watching her climb out of the car in a matter of seconds. Left with no choice, he hurried behind her as she all but ran up the sidewalk.
She stopped short and spun around. “Please, Jack. I don’t need babysitting. I’m really tired. I have no intention of doing anything but sleeping for the next twelve hours.”
“I’m just walking you to your door and making sure everything is okay.”
“Of course you are,” she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. “Why should I expect anything but irritation when all you’ve done for two days is irritate me.”
Jack smiled, noting how tired she appeared. “My motives are pure. I promise.” Lucy had to be struggling to maintain that Maddox attitude, considering her bloodshot eyes. The stringy hair wasn’t aiding the attempt. Yet somehow she managed to pull it off and amuse him at the same time, while standing there looking as if she were ready to stomp her foot. And when those tired eyes flashed fire, he laughed outright.
“I don’t find this amusing. I told you, I’m exhausted.”
Suddenly he wanted to wipe her exhaustion away with kisses, which only made a liar out of him for making pro
mises about motives his body might not be able to keep.
Still chuckling, he checked his watch and goaded, just to see how she’d respond, “But it’s barely six thirty. And once you realize it’s too early to sleep, you’ll start going through the date book.” And God knows what else, he didn’t add. “I aim to be here for that. Besides, I promised my mother I’d bring you home to dinner.”
“Forget it. I’m beat and I’m going to bed. There’s nothing I can do to find Cassie tonight, so I’m not even going to try.”
Jack didn’t believe a word of it. “Then we can skip dinner. I’ll call my mother and cancel and then sack out on your couch. That way we can get an early start on finding Cassie in the morning.” Damn, how he wished he hadn’t made love to her last night. Sex with her had messed with his emotions, made him doubt his own motives. But right now, too much had happened, raising huge questions. He wasn’t sure of anything, except that he’d be one hell of a fool to leave her alone.
“Excuse me.” A voice from across the street interrupted and Lucy and Jack both turned at the same time to see Mrs. Thomson rush toward them. “I saw that van again.”
“What?” Lucy said, as Jack blurted out, “What the hell?”
“You told me to keep an eye out and I did.” The lady stopped a few feet from the bottom step. “Around two this afternoon a white van drove past your house.” Her head tilted to the right, indicating the direction. “Then I saw it parked up the street a ways for several hours.”
“Thank you.” Lucy smiled and looked pointedly at Jack, who nodded. His eyes darted to Mrs. Thomson then back to Lucy, and he stiffened when her smile turned into a smug “I told you so,” as the words, “A white van…how interesting,” floated past his ears.
The woman spent a few minutes updating Lucy without adding any more useful information, before wandering back across the road.
Jack laughed.
“What’s so funny?” she asked, watching him warily.
“You. Me. Hell, this whole damned weekend has been unreal.” Her spine went rigid and her hand fisted at her side like she wanted to hit him. But he ignored her body language and said, “And to tell you the truth, I’m not even convinced your friend is missing.” It was an outright lie, but he didn’t dare voice his suspicions. God only knew what she’d make of them. He threw out his own indignant sneer, realizing he never should have gotten physically involved with her in the first place. “A white van driving by and parking doesn’t prove a goddamned thing.” He only had to keep her quiet for another twenty-four hours when the news of Frank’s decision to run would be out. Something was going on with the teens, the same something he surmised that had thrown the Cardellos into a tizzy. He would damn sure get to the bottom of it, but until then? He indicated the door with a nod. “And because I’m not convinced, I’m sticking to you like a tick on a deer.” Which meant, he’d damn well have to control his libido.
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