Beyond : Series Bundle (9781311505637)

by Miller, Maureen A.

  “Drugs?” The woman seemed to perk up. “What types of drugs?”

  “Marijuana and heroin are the two we’ve pinned on them recently.”

  “Oh. Opiates.”

  Was that disappointment he detected? She was definitely not impressed.

  “What are you wearing, anyway? Are you some sort of dancer, or is that a wetsuit for your deep-sea diving routine?”

  “You talk funny,” she observed. “And you’re not very pleasant.”

  Alright. That’s it. It was time to get out of here.

  With renewed effort, he tugged at the bindings, all the while, searching for anything within reach that could pass for a blade.

  “Look, I will get you out of this,” he assured. “When they return, I will talk them into releasing you. You have no value to them.”

  “But you do?” she countered.

  Rather than answer, he volleyed, “Let me ask you something. You really don’t know the people that live in this residence? The Kings?”

  He heard her sigh. “I told you that I’m not from around here. And your next question will most likely be, does Aimee know them, to which I will respond, no, because Aimee has been away from here for a long time. We all just arrived yesterday.”

  So she was capable of a complete sentence. Amazing.

  “Alright, so you don’t know much about the neighbors.”

  Would it hurt to divulge a little information at this juncture? She deserved an explanation, particularly if her life was being threatened.

  “I have been chasing that man,” he uttered, “the man you saw in the driveway before.”

  “He has done something bad? I mean besides have us tied up? Is it these drugs? Drugs are outlawed on this plan—” she hesitated and added, “—here?”

  “Yes. Certain drugs are outlawed here.” Maybe she spent her life with no television or books. It was not going to hurt to reveal more. It was public knowledge—documented online for the world to see. Heck, you could probably type Diego in Wikipedia and this guy’s smiling face would appear as a master drug lord.

  “He filters narcotics in from Colombia and he has a number of distribution centers in the southeast. I thought this farm might be one,

  but—” Looking around, there was absolutely no trace of trafficking in here—unless he had already removed the shipment.

  “I need you to stay still,” she interrupted.

  “Stay still? It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”

  A slim shoulder blade dug into his back as he felt her shift. Her sparkly clad leg splayed out into his line of vision. Maybe she sought a more comfortable position, or was inching away from the stream of sun that poured through the missing plank in the roof.

  “Do not move,” she ordered quietly.

  “If you’re up to something, you better clue me in.”

  Silence answered his demand.

  “So, what’s your name, anyway?” he asked. “I mean, hell, we’re tied up closer than I’ve been to a woman in a long time. Work has kind of kept that stuff at bay.” Was he babbling?

  She remained mute and finally whispered, “Raja.”

  “Ra-jahh?” Strange name to go with the strange woman.

  “Raja, I am Craig.”

  “Craig.” A trace of a smile lingered in her voice. “Aimee’s—husband is Zak.”

  Wonderful. He knew more about Aimee than the woman bound to him with rope. At least Aimee was married, which meant that she was not Raja’s girlfriend. What! Why would he even care about such a thing? Pull it together, Buchanan. This isn’t a friggin date!

  A bright flash of sun made him wince.

  “Don’t move!” she hissed.

  “Goddam, those pants of yours just blinded me. Are they from Vegas or something?”

  An acrid scent filled his nose. Smoke! Great. A fire. And they were tied up with no means of escape—the fated charred remains of Jane and John Doe.

  Behind him, Raja tugged her arms, jerking his backwards in tandem. He was just about to tell her that it was futile when the pressure ceased and he lurched forward. Stretching his arms out in disbelief, he stared at them as if they belonged to someone else.

  “How did you do that?” he cried.

  “Physics. It’s the same on every plan—” she coughed, “—everywhere. A focused reflection from the sun on my pants was enough to cause a brief smolder.”

  So the woman he had assessed as mentally challenged had been one step ahead of him all along. This was not the time to dwell on that, however. She was already at the barn door, preparing to haul it open.

  “Whoa!” He sprang up. “Hold on a minute.”

  Hypnotic eyes shifted his way.

  “You wish to stay in here? It is hot.”

  “Well, that’s an understatement. But you can’t go charging outside yet. They may be out there.”

  She frowned. “They are not.”

  “And how the hell are you so certain?”

  “You use the word, hell a lot, and I don’t hear them.”

  Craig’s jaw went slack. With a mental shake of the head he regrouped and reached the door, blocking her exit.

  “I don’t care if you have sonar. You are staying in here until I confirm it’s clear outside.”

  He could sense that she was still dubious and he reached out to touch her shoulder. She quivered under the connection, but kept herself steady.

  “Listen,” he clenched that curve gently, “you should never have been involved in this from the start. Now you are endangered—and most likely, so are your friends in that blue house. I am going to have to get you out of here and make sure you all remain safe until we can apprehend these guys.”

  “You can apprehend them very shortly. They said they were coming back.”

  Was she mocking him?

  Craig took a good, hard look at the mysterious Raja. Her eyes intrigued him. Sloe-shaped and framed in soft brown lashes. They hid very little. There was no sarcasm there, no taunting. Even now she stared back at him with blatant curiosity. One of her eyes was partially concealed behind the tumble of blonde hair that had now dried from the heat. Her heart-shaped face was pale, but a glow permeated her cheeks under his prolonged gaze. And her lips...her lips...

  “Craig?”

  And even his own name sounded strange sliding across them...as if she had an accent he could not place. In his opinion, the jury was still out whether this woman was as innocent as she appeared—but there was no denying that he enjoyed looking.

  He released her shoulder, and his glance slipped down the strange opalescent blouse to take stock of what was hiding behind her. Tucked in the corner sat an open crate, its lid resting diagonally against it. Tied to the pole and facing the opposite direction, he hadn’t noticed it before.

  Honing in on the crate, he was dismayed to discover that it was empty. But crouching for a closer inspection, he located a plastic ziploc bag crunched up in the corner. Despite it being empty, there was a hazy residue inside.

  “I’ll send this to the lab,” he commented aloud.

  “The lab?”

  The air stirred behind him as if she was about to pounce on his back. The motion triggered his instincts and he whirled, ready to defend. All he saw, however, was a woman with a ridiculously enthusiastic smile on her face. It was the first time he saw her smile. He swallowed.

  “You have a lab?” she gushed. “Can I go there?”

  “What? No. No, you cannot go there. You are going home, where you will hopefully be safe.”

  The crestfallen expression tore at him, but hell, what in God’s name was she thinking? He was back to considering her being a whack job. She teetered on some fine line between brilliant and crazy. Eccentric, that was the word—an expression reserved for the old, odd philanthropists of the world.

  “You want to analyze the residue in that bag?” She nodded at his hand.

  He had the absurd notion to offer it to her, as if she could produce the results long before his lab would ever
respond to him.

  “Yes, but for now, let’s cautiously look outside and see if the coast is clear.”

  “They are still not here.”

  “Fine. They are not here. But I would like to determine that for myself.”

  Before she could distract him any further, Craig walked up to the barn door and listened between the cracks. Spokes of light pricked his cheek. The sun was still relatively high. They had not been trapped in here that long. There was no sound from outside, so he tested the sliding door. As expected it was locked from the exterior. If there was someone out there, surely the motion would have been enough to rouse them.

  After a brief pause, he doubled his efforts on the door. It rattled under his touch, but the padlock remained steadfast.

  Hell with it.

  He stepped back and kicked the heel of his shoe just beneath the handle. Wood splintered, but held fast. Trying again, he felt the support beam weaken. His final attempt caused the planks to gape. It was enough of a gap that he could reach through to test the padlock. It was indeed fastened and required a key to open. Anger produced enough adrenaline for Craig to renew his efforts and propel his shoulder into the door. An explosion of pain was followed by the collapse of the panel as it crashed to the dirt with him on top of it. Dust billowed around him and within that hazy cloud, a feminine silhouette towered above.

  “Are you alright?”

  At least she was concerned. To this point she had exhibited no emotions.

  Holding his shoulder, Craig rose and stared down the rutted driveway, waiting for the peel of tires.

  “Yeah. I’m great.”

  “Do you need assistance?”

  “With what? Walking? Apprehending Diego? Or explaining this whole disaster to my boss who has no clue that I am even out here?”

  Raja stared at him.

  “Sorry,” he added quickly. “I’m just in for a lot of red tape—and I’m worried about you.”

  It could have been a trick of the sun, but he swore a grin tugged at her pink lips.

  “Your arm,” she nodded. “They tape it up?”

  “Huh?”

  “The red tape.”

  No productivity would come from a response. Right now, he needed to get this quirky woman away from this barn, and ensure that her friends were safe. Then he would eat crow, and call for backup.

  “Come on,” he urged. “We need to get you back to your house.”

  Raja stood rooted, staring down at their joined hands. He hadn’t even realized that he had reached for hers...and yet...he still did not release it. They might have gone on for an awkward number of seconds staring at that connection, but Raja’s head snapped up. Already he had grown to recognize that look of impending doom.

  “They’re coming,” she whispered.

  Certainty and dread tightened the lines around her mouth. He heard nothing, but he no longer doubted her. “Are your friends at home?” He tugged her hand. “That’s going to be the first place Diego goes when he sees the barn door kicked out.”

  Raja gasped.

  “Do you have a cell?” he asked. His had been confiscated along with his gun and the car keys.

  Of course she didn’t have a phone. Those tight pants revealed no lines, and she had just been doing the backstroke in the lake.

  “A cell?” she repeated, and then added with comprehension. “Ah, a way to communicate. Telepathy. No,” her head shook in dismay. “I don’t possess that.”

  Damn. Telepathy would have come in handy. Lord, he was losing it.

  Craig swiped at a mosquito.

  There was still no sound, yet Raja’s eyes were locked onto that dirt driveway as if Satan himself was about to approach on a sled of flames.

  “Raja,” his voice arrested her.

  On this close inspection he lost himself in cobalt and evergreen chasms that a man could jump into and never find his way back out.

  “You don’t know me,” he said thickly, “but I’m not a bad guy. Have some faith that I will make this right.”

  Suddenly it was so important to him to have this one person have faith in him. He was not a failure.

  Her brief nod offered consent. It was all he needed as he hauled her into the trees and they took off, running. They would only have a few minutes lead on Diego and his partner.

  A bullet could travel fast enough to make up the difference.

  Chapter Four

  Aimee heard the rushed footsteps charge up the porch stairs. She hauled open the front door just in time to catch Raja lunging for it. More troubling than Raja’s anxiety was the emergence of the brooding man at her side.

  His features were coated in dust. From what Aimee could discern beneath that shell, he possessed short brown hair, made sandy by the fine dirt. Dark, intense eyes bore into her with urgency, and his tall frame was chiseled tight, like a drawn bow, ready to spring into her house.

  For a moment her eyes bounced back and forth between the man and Raja as she pushed the screen door open and asked desperately, “Are you alright?”

  Raja nodded.

  “And this is?”

  “This is Craig.”

  Aimee’s lips twitched, but it was not a smile—more like a mini-stroke.

  “Look,” Craig bowed his head inside the doorway. “I hate to seem rude here, but we have a problem, and we need to get inside. Now.”

  With only a split-second hesitation, Aimee pushed open the door. She frowned when he slammed it shut behind them.

  Zak emerged in the hallway, looking guarded.

  “I am Aimee. This is my husband, Zak. And that is our friend, Raja.” She crossed her arms and frowned. “Now, who are you?”

  “Craig. Craig Buchanan.” He hauled his identification out of his back pocket and flashed it before them.

  Aimee sagged back against Zak and his arm circled her waist.

  Oh my God. They had been here less than twenty-four hours and the FBI was onto them!

  “What is it, Aim?” Zak asked.

  “He’s from the Federal Bureau of Investigation.”

  The grip about her waist constricted.

  What had given them away?

  The gritty look of damnation on the fed’s face crippled her. What had she been thinking, bringing these innocent people to her world? If she had to do something drastic right now to protect them, she would not hesitate for a second.

  “I am sorry, but I need your phone,” Craig cut into her thoughts. “I need your car, and I need for us all to get out of here immediately. We cannot wait for the police to arrive.”

  The police?

  Aimee blinked, or was it a seizure? She sought out Raja’s eyes for insight, but Raja looked dodgy, and kept surreptitiously staring at the tall FBI guy. Craig something. Buchanan. That’s right. Focus on the details.

  “What’s going on here?” Zak moved in beside her, deftly positioning himself to protect. Great, a face-off between a Warrior and a Federal Agent. She hated to tell this Craig-guy that he would lose that battle in a heartbeat.

  The agent reached up to scratch the back of his head. A puff of dust discharged.

  “Real fast synopsis...I have been staking out your neighbor’s property—the Kings. Your friend here was swimming in the lake over there. She scared the hell out of me because I thought she had drowned.”

  Aimee gulped.

  “And then the man that I had been hoping to catch actually showed up. But now Raja was a concern. I had to get her away. When we tried to make it to your house, we were stopped—with a gun,” he added gravely.

  Zak grasped her hand.

  “We were tied up inside their barn, and Raja somehow managed to free us. I broke down the door, and just as we were making our escape, they showed up again. And now they are probably on their way here—so we have zero time. Please—” his wide hand clutched the doorframe, “—can I use your phone—preferably from inside your car that is speeding away from here at sixty miles per hour.”

  Aimee launched for the ca
r keys on the kitchen counter. She dragged the cell phone out of her purse and threw it at the man as she shouldered her way towards the front door.

  “Wait.” Craig barricaded it with his body. “Me first.” With a subtle nod he motioned Zak to fall in behind him.

  Men. Already, they rallied together to care for the poor, wee women. There was no time to dwell, though. The front door was open and everyone’s tension level kicked up a notch.

  “Okay,” Craig’s head slanted in both directions and then his arm spiraled. “To the car.”

  Slipping into the driver’s seat, with Zak in the passenger seat beside her, Aimee glanced in the rearview mirror until her passengers were buckled in, and then she gunned it. With the exception of this morning’s awkward driving to take Zak out shopping, Aimee hadn’t been behind the wheel of a car in a long time. It was just like riding a bike though, right? Still, she felt most comfortable behind the controls of the old terra duster.

  In the back seat, Craig was barking into the cell phone. Lovely. The nice FBI man was calling in the local police force to surround her, her husband from Ziratak, and her friend from Anthum. Just lovely.

  “Uh, Aim, you might want to take it a little slower.”

  She gawked at Zak. The fed was so busy talking on the phone, she was able to whisper, “You travel at the speed of light, and you’re giving me a tough time?”

  “Pull into that lot up there,” Craig pointed from the back.

  Aimee followed the order, her heart beating in triple-time. In the mirror behind her, Raja sat with her eyes trained out the window. There was never an opportunity to give her the new clothes that were purchased this morning. When she got home, Raja was already gone. And now here Raja sat out in public, in front of a federal agent, sparkling in her tight Horus uniform. How had this all gone so colossally wrong?

  “Alright, pull behind that building.”

  When the car fell idle, there was a heavy moment of silence. Aimee drew in a labored breath, ready to lay in with a major tirade when Zak held his hand up to halt her. He stretched his arm across the back of her seat and looked over his shoulder.

  “Tell me two things,” his deep voice rumbled. “Tell me first that everyone in this vehicle is safe.”