by Rachel Lee
She smiled humorlessly. “I was young. It made me feel like Annie Oakley after I passed all the training with a firearms instructor. Ready for anything.”
He looked at her, seeing a new Lacy, not the somewhat shy woman who had giggled endlessly with Sara and had helped bring some light and joy into his own life. Annie Oakley? Um, wow.
“I hate guns,” he admitted. “I hate what they can do. I have a shotgun at home, but that’s it. If you’re going to stay, then we’ll need to go by the gun store and outfit you. But I have to know one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Do you think you can actually pull the trigger? People are different from paper targets.”
He watched her close her eyes, searching herself. “Yes,” she said presently. “In self-defense, in defense of another, absolutely yes. While I hope I never have to, I believe I can. I faced that a long time ago.”
“Be sure, Lacy. Be very sure. Because you can get yourself into a real heap of trouble if you wave a gun and can’t use it.”
Her answer was slow in coming, but he appreciated that she was thinking it through once more. No one could be absolutely certain that they could shoot a human being. Not even a trained soldier. But he wanted her to be as sure as she could be, because he wasn’t kidding. Waving a gun you couldn’t use, or wouldn’t use, merely gave your enemy an added weapon.
“I do believe I can,” she said finally. Her face had paled a little. “Like I said, I won’t want to, but if it’s the only choice? Yes.”
With that he had to be content.
He’d finished his meal and she’d been reduced to picking little bits from her casserole. “Are you finished? We can take that casserole home.”
She shook her head. “It’s awfully rich. I’d like something lighter for supper.”
“Fair enough. Let’s go see the sheriff.”
He paid the bill at the register and opted to walk the short distance to the sheriff. He was surprised to realize he was feeling exposed as he walked. He’d never felt that way before in this town, and he didn’t like the sensation.
In an instant he was back in a mode he didn’t want to ever live again: high-alert. Scanning vehicles, rooftops, windows for possible threats. His skin crawling. Ready to take action in an instant, ready to throw Lacy to the ground and spread himself over her if necessary.
If a car backfired, he’d react without thought, and then have a lot of explaining to do. Cussing silently, he marched them as quickly as he could to the safety of the sheriff’s offices. It had been a long time since walking half a block had seemed like walking miles in slow motion.
But not long enough, evidently.
He heard the quick patter of Lacy’s steps as she tried to keep up, and he knew he should slow down, but he held her hand tightly and kept her going. At last they reached the door and he pulled them inside. Only then did he spare a thought for the fact that it was getting colder outside again, much colder.
“Well, that was brisk,” she said, breathing a little heavily.
“Sorry.”
Before he could speak to the dispatcher, Lacy squeezed his hand. “I know how you’re feeling, believe me. It’s okay. I became a speed walker in Dallas.”
He could well understand. The world outside, once a welcoming new life, was now shadowed like the mountains, valleys and plains of Afghanistan. If it was Johnson, the man was going to pay for stealing his hard-won peace of mind.
“He’s in the back,” Velma said in answer to his question. She puffed on one of her endless cigarettes. “Poor man is beginning to sound like our last sheriff. You know Nate Tate, right?”
Jess nodded. “Fine man.”
“And a bellyacher about paperwork. Gage is bellyaching today. Go give him a break.”
Still holding Lacy’s hand, Jess walked them at a more reasonable pace back to the sheriff’s office. His threat sense was easing up, allowing him to relax a little. Of course, there was still the walk back to the car, the drive out to his isolated little house, and all that might happen afterward.
Gage greeted them with a mixture of relief and a scowl. “Damn paperwork will swamp a man. And most of it isn’t even important. If you haven’t read it, check the Police Blotter column in the local paper sometime. Farcical. As is most of what’s on my desk.”
Jess nodded sympathetically. “Nobody likes paperwork.”
“Except maybe accountants,” Lacy said, injecting some much-needed humor into the moment. Jess released the last of his tension, pulled a chair over for her, and when she sat, he sat beside her. He hated letting go of her hand.
Gage held up his hand. “I know why you’re here. I’m waiting for another call, but right now I’d have to say nobody is looking for Lacy. According to the people I’ve talked to so far, she’s off the radar and has been since the trial. They did a pretty good roll-up on the operation, and whoever’s left isn’t feeling particularly vengeful. One more call and I’ll be sure.”
* * *
Lacy didn’t know whether to be relieved or not. Part of her felt like a fool for not believing the Feds, part of her felt silly with the imagined terror she’d lived with for too long and another part of her was terrified for Jess. To think she’d come here looking for safety from him when he was the one at risk. The irony was too much.
“So,” said Gage, leaning forward with a grimace, “I ask you again, Jess. Do you have any enemies?”
“I think I might,” he said.
Lacy half anticipated that he might have a flashback, as he had last time Gage asked that question, but he didn’t. He seemed to square himself and get ready to face it head-on. “I learned this morning that I’m the last survivor of my unit, other than the CO. We walked into an ambush. Five of us got out of there, three left the hospital alive and two died since. One was deemed a suicide, the other a hunting accident. Which leaves me.”
Gage nodded slowly. “I assume this CO survived.”
“He didn’t enter the village.”
Gage drummed his fingers. “Unusual?”
“Not always. Depends on the man. Staying at a safe distance to observe and keep up communications is one way to go.”
“Evidently the way he chose.”
“Yes.”
“So what’s he after, Jess?”
“Witnesses. At least that’s all I can conclude. We know he changed our orders. We didn’t know we were walking into an ambush. Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t, and maybe he told a hell of a good story and doesn’t want the truth coming out. It’s the best I can come up with, but we all knew he was a glory hound and that he was headed to the top. Best I can guess is maybe one of the other guys started stirring the embers a bit and he got scared of what we might know. Or he’s gone totally off his nut.”
“Where is he now?”
“Damned if I know. I spent all morning at the library trying to find out something about Samuel Johnson. At the time, he was a first lieutenant with the Marines. By now, he’d be at least a captain, maybe a major. Anyway, nothing on the internet at all.”
“Common name, but it’s pretty weird he wouldn’t have some kind of footprint.”
“Let’s just say it’s not one I can identify. And all my friends from the military are civilians now.”
“Nor can you just pick up a phone and call the Department of Defense, I imagine.”
Jess shook his head. “That information is confidential. If you need to find a soldier, sailor or marine, the most anyone will do is pass along a message.”
“Guess I can understand that.”
Gage started rocking in his chair, and with each move it squeaked a little. He stared off into space.
Lacy sat waiting, wishing she had something to offer. Then a question occurred to her. “Why would you need to find him? What good will th
at do?”
“I was hoping to find out if he’s still in uniform, still on the fast track or what.”
“But in the end, what difference does it make? If he’s after you because you said something—which you clearly don’t remember at this point—or because he’s afraid you might say something to damage him after all this time...what does that have to do with the fact that he’s probably the one stalking you?”
“Knowing for sure would give me some idea what I’m dealing with.”
“Yes, you did mention that.” She sighed. “I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful. But it seems to me that whatever his reason, this guy has slipped his rails. Playing games? Telling you it’s your move? That doesn’t sound sane to me. None of it sounds sane. He either made a stupid mistake and lost his entire unit, or set it up somehow to make himself look like some kind of hero... Either way, he’s crazy now, and you can’t predict crazy.”
Gage and Jess exchanged looks. “She’s right,” Jess said.
Gage nodded. “Absolutely.”
“For all we know,” she continued, “he made a dumb mistake, was losing his unit, panicked, called in an air strike which unfortunately took out an entire village along with you guys, and remorse has been eating him until he snapped. Now he just wants to get rid of anyone else who remembers his shame. But what difference does it make? He’s coming for Jess and he’s clearly not playing by any known rules.”
“Yeah,” said Jess, “what rules include a bogus threat, accompanied by a note telling me it’s my move? It sounds more like a video game than reality.”
“So he’s playing some kind of sick game in his own mind,” Lacy said.
Gage surprised her with a smile. “I like the way you think. Reminds me of my undercover days. Okay, then, Jess, short of putting you two under full-time protection, which I’m sorry to say I don’t have the resources to do, and short of sending you away to some far-off desert island, I guess we need to put our heads together on a plan of action.”
Chapter 14
Jess made Lacy wait at the sheriff’s while he picked up the car. She thought it was extreme for half a block, but judging by the way he had hurried them over here, she gathered he was feeling threatened. Well, she ought to understand that. As she’d told him, in Dallas she’d become something of a speed walker, eager to get out of open places as quickly as possible.
As soon as she stepped outside when he pulled up, however, she felt the bite of the bitter returning cold and was glad he’d decided to get the car first. When they’d left this morning, insulated snow pants hadn’t seemed necessary. Now they were practically essential.
On the way home, they stopped at the gun store. Familiar smells of gun oil surrounded her, taking her back to happier times in her youth, oddly enough. Somehow, training to protect herself against pirates at sea had always seemed more like a movie than a possibility. This was very different, and even as she remembered how much she had enjoyed her weapons training, she felt her skin start to crawl. She may have thought it an overboard fantasy of her dad’s then, and been more interested in learning to shoot and care for a gun, but now it was for real.
All she had to do was remember last night, that pipe on the porch, and her and Jess’s reaction to it. All she had to do was look at Jess to realize that she’d do anything at all to protect him.
“We don’t want to be counting on accuracy,” Jess said as he approved her choice of a Mossberg shotgun. “Not for this.”
She agreed. She’d learned to be a good marksman as a kid, but when it came to a situation like this—well, there was a reason so many police carried shotguns and not rifles.
They waved at the deputy sitting in the car at the end of the driveway. He waved back, lifting a plastic cup as if in toast. Once inside the house, Jess began to relax, but not completely.
He got his own shotgun out of a cabinet in his bedroom and loaded it with six newly purchased shells. Then he passed the ammunition to Lacy, and she followed suit, loading her own weapon easily. Apparently, it was like riding a bicycle to some extent, she thought as she popped the final shell into the chamber. They both kept the barrels pointed at the floor and well away from each other.
“Do you know how to protect someone’s back?” he asked.
“You mean, like in the movies? You walk forward and I walk backward?”
“Yeah, like that. Let’s check out the house and practice. Make sure your safety is on.”
He gave her pointers as they moved through the downstairs, then up the stairs. “Keep the barrel moving and don’t fix on anything. What you want to be alert for is movement, okay?”
“Got it.”
It felt weird, but as they made their way through room after room, it began to feel more familiar. Her comfort level grew. She could do this.
“He might do something to force us outside,” Jess said as they finished the sweep. “If he does, keep low, and if you move, move fast, but not in a straight line.”
“Okay.”
“Pretend you’re a squirrel. Dart every which way, and freeze only when you feel covered. He’s going to be alert for movement, too.”
She nodded, realizing that her mouth was beginning to dry. She sensed the day was dying outside, but didn’t want to pull a curtain back to look. Another night approached, and she couldn’t imagine what the madman might try when darkness came.
“With the cop out front, he should try to come from the back,” Jess said as he made a pot of coffee. He glanced at the clock on the microwave. “We don’t have long.”
With guns on the table beside them, they sat facing each other, drinking coffee and eating some stale rolls.
“I could get you out of here,” he said again. “There’s still time.”
She looked at him, seeing the tension in his face, the distance in his eyes. This man, she realized, had gone back in time. His gaze was almost empty, focused on things she couldn’t see. He was a long way away, locked inside himself.
This hurt, she realized. After what they had shared last night, she felt him pulling away, and she didn’t want to lose him, not even for a few hours.
She had no idea what was going on, why anyone should want to hurt him after all this time. He’d paid an unimaginable price for what he’d been through. Wasn’t that enough?
Yet here he was, a man who had devoted himself to saving lives, facing it all again because of a war in a faraway place. God, she felt more helpless than she ever had.
He carried his coffee to the front room and pulled the curtain back a bit. “Our new watchdogs have arrived.”
Small comfort, she thought. Gage had sent two men, his best, and one would be walking a patrol, not sitting in the car. Would it be enough? And given how cold it was growing again, she pitied the man who had to walk the perimeter.
It didn’t seem like much of a plan. But what else could they do? Gage and Jess had been right when they concluded that they could put an army around Jess’s house, but they couldn’t keep it there indefinitely. This madman could simply outwait them. Law enforcement had been alerted to keep an eye out for strangers in and around town, but hoping someone would notice this guy was like hoping to find a needle in a haystack. A lot of people passed through. Few stayed long. They’d have to stay a while to be noticed.
“Jess?” She decided that this was not the time to be shy, and there was something she desperately needed to say. Her heart was full of it, even though fear was beginning to edge it out.
“Yeah?” Briefly he focused on her.
“When this is over, can we go to bed together for a week?”
Slowly, a smile cracked his stern features. “I promise. Lacy, I...”
The phone rang, cutting him off. Twisting, he pulled the receiver off the wall. “McGregor.”
He listened, his face changing to stone. “
I’ll check.”
The voice on the other end of the line said something.
“No, Gage. If he’s hurt, time might be of the essence.”
Then he slammed the phone down and looked at Lacy. “The deputies aren’t responding. I need to go out there.”
“I’ll get dressed.”
“You stay here. Pointless to expose us both.”
Did he really think she was going to let him go out there alone? With no one to watch his back?
He must have read something on her face because he grabbed her forearm. “Lacy, I’m trained for this.”
She tugged her arm free. “This must be it, Jess. And I’m not staying here while he lures you outside. We go together, or I’ll be pointing a gun at you.”
His brows lifted. “No, you won’t.”
“Wanna bet?” She lifted her new shotgun and carried it into the foyer, where she began pulling on her winter gear. “Some camouflage would be nice right about now,” she said, a weak attempt at humor.
The man stood there, looking like a thundercloud, but finally seemed to realize that if he went out alone, the only way he could keep her in here would be to tie her up.
Which was just about how she figured it.
At last he stirred, pulling on his own winter gear hurriedly. Then he opened a hall closet and pulled out a backpack with a red cross on it.
“What’s that?” she asked as she zipped her parka.
“Medical supplies. I keep them on hand for search and rescue.” He pulled one strap over his left shoulder. He flicked her hood. “No snorkel. It’ll impede your vision.” Instead he dug around in the closet and offered her a ski mask. He pulled one over his own head, then picked up both shotguns.
With his hand on the knob of the side door, he paused to look down at her. “He could be out there. He could be waiting in that police car. Hell, he could be almost anywhere. Keep low, move fast.”
“Dart like a squirrel,” she repeated.
“We’re gonna take my car to the end of the drive, okay? You stay inside it while I check on the deputy. In fact, stay low so no one can see you’re there.”