by Kris Norris
“Only the very best for you, Kendall. Tell me, how bad do you want your brother back?”
She held back the sob tight in her chest. “Bad enough.”
“So you’ll do anything I ask?”
“Try me,” she said, cringing when her voice cracked.
“I have something in mind…a game of sorts. You do like games, don’t you? After all, you participate in all those extreme races, so you must enjoy the hunt yourself.”
“Just tell me what kind of game, Garrick.”
“I was thinking about an adventure race designed just for you. How does that sound?”
“It sounds crazy.”
“Perhaps, but then you’ll be the one doing it.”
Dawson grabbed the phone, covering the end. “You can’t agree to do anything alone, no matter what,” he whispered.
Kendall nodded, knowing far too well what would happen if she faced Garrick alone. She cupped the phone Dawson handed back to her. “I don’t race alone. You should know that if you’ve been watching me.”
“That’s true. You always race with your brother, but since he’s not an option, what will you do?”
“I don’t know, but I’m sure you’ve got it all planned out.”
“I expected you to go it alone, Kendall.”
“No, you were hoping I’d be too afraid to risk anyone else.”
Garrick laughed. “It’s so nice talking to old friends,” he mocked. “The ones who really know you.”
“You’re no friend, Garrick, and it makes me sick thinking about how well I know you. You want me to face you alone. Why? Are you afraid you can’t handle me if there’s someone else tagging along? Will that be too much of a challenge for you? Or does it just bother you thinking there might be someone, other than Trace, willing to put their life on the line for me?”
Garrick growled. “Don’t push me, Kendall. I can kill Trace and still get to you.”
“But then you’d lose your hold over me, and that would take away your fun. Come on, just one teammate. You don’t want me to die before I reach you, do you?”
“That would be…unfortunate.” He was breathing into the phone again. “Who? And don’t suggest one of your regular teammates. I want someone you haven’t raced with. Someone who can’t anticipate your next move.”
Dawson shifted around her, so close she could feel the muscles under his shirt pressing against her back. “Me,” he whispered, his breath feather soft against her other ear.
Kendall tensed. She was finding it hard to concentrate with Dawson’s body hugging hers, and she couldn’t afford to make a mistake. Garrick was clever. She needed to make sure he didn’t question any motive or move she made. She looked down when Dawson touched her hand, reading the new words he’d scribbled in his notebook, wondering where in the hell this was leading. “I have a friend. He’s new to the sport. We’ve never raced together.”
“Is that the man you’re engaged to?”
Kendall caught the phone as it slipped from her fingers, her heart racing.
How did he know about Conner? And did he know she’d broken it off a month ago?
Garrick chucked at her silence. “What’s the matter, Kendall, did I strike a nerve? You didn’t think I knew about him, did you? His name’s Conner, isn’t it? I’ll admit you’ve kept your relationship well hidden. I had to dig extremely deep to find him, and even then I haven’t been able to unmask more than a name. It’s almost as if you don’t want anyone to know who he is. Tell me, is he good…at racing, I mean?”
She took a ragged breath, steadied by Dawson’s hands on her shoulders.
“Keep it together,” whispered Dawson. “You’re doing great. Just keep talking.” He stroked her hair, calming her.
“He’s not quite up to my level, but he’s got his strengths,” she rasped.
“Do you have a picture of him?” asked Garrick.
“Of course I do. Why?”
“One with the two of you in it?”
She whirled to face Dawson, biting at her lower lip. She shook her head.
He nodded, his expression still calm. “Just say, ‘yes,’ ” he mouthed.
“Yes.”
“Good. I’ll give you five minutes to post it on your website before I call you back. Oh and Kendall, send me one of the two of you outside somewhere.” He hung up.
Chapter Two
Kendall crumbled. It’d taken every ounce of strength she had to talk to Garrick and not break into tears. She’d dug deep into the hatred she felt for him, but she wasn’t sure it was enough. He’d called her bluff, and she didn’t see how she could get out of it.
“Kendall?” Dawson’s voice had softened, but there was still a sense of urgency in it. He bent down to her, his face even with hers. “Are you okay?”
“I’ll be fine,” she lied, fighting to keep her voice steady. She wanted to cry like she’d done as a child, but she knew there wasn’t time. “What are we going to do? I don’t have a picture of Conner and me together.”
“As far as Garrick is considered, I’m Conner now, and we’ll have one of us together in a few moments. Come with me.”
He lifted her up and pulled her toward the back of the house, searching each room for a way out. “This way.” He bolted out a set of French doors, his grip firm. His pace was steady, commanding. His cell phone rang, but he ignored it. He headed for the first tree off the left side of the deck, stripping his jacket off as he went. “Put this over your shoulders,” he instructed, handing it to her. “It’ll add authenticity.”
She took the jacket. It smelt like him, spicy and hot, and she liked the way it warmed her. She looked over at him. He was rolling up his sleeves, a digital camera already in his hand. “Where did you get that?”
“I always carry one, in case I need to photograph evidence.” He pressed a few buttons and laid it on the grass. “Now bend down and lay across my chest. Don’t look at the camera, look at me.”
She followed his instructions, draping her body across his as he splayed out on the grass, his head resting against the rough bark. She could feel the steady beating of his heart beneath her fingers.
How can it be beating so slow? she wondered, trying to ignore how much hers had increased.
“Try to relax, Kendall,” he said as he slipped his fingers beneath the jacket.
God, his hands were so warm and strong she melted at his touch. He was stroking her back, caressing her muscles in a gentle circular motion. She knew she should pull away, demand he stop, but she was helpless against the fiery assault. She met his gaze, trying to still the sudden racing of her heart. His eyes mirrored her need, and it took her last shred of sanity not to press against him and beg him to hold her. But she couldn’t. Not without allowing him to see her weakened, vulnerable. And she wouldn’t do that. Not now. Not ever.
“Look at me,” he said again, turning her face more to the side. “Now smile, like you’re in love with me.”
She couldn’t suppress the laugh that escaped her lips. If he only knew how absurd that was. She’d never loved anyone, other than Trace. And not like he was suggesting.
A bright light flashed across her face.
“Perfect. I think it caught that laugh of yours.” He darted over to the camera, scanning the picture. “This should be good enough. It’s hard to see what you’re wearing. I don’t want him to recognize it from today.” He grabbed her hand, pulling her back inside.
“Now what?” she asked.
“Please tell me you’ve got a fast Internet connection.”
“Of course. Patience isn’t one of Trace’s better virtues.”
She pushed ahead of him, turned down the hall and dashed into another room. It was smaller than the others, with leather and wood dominating the space. She pointed to a large desk. “There.”
He brushed past her, pulled a short cord out of the camera bag, and sat down. In a matter of moments he had the picture downloaded, and was uploading it to their website. He checked his watch
. “Damn. We’re a minute late.”
“It’ll be okay,” she said. “He wants this bad enough to over look a minute or two.”
The phone rang. She looked at Dawson.
“Let it ring five times, like before.”
She clenched her jaw, not sure she had the courage to talk to Garrick again.
“You can do this, Kendall,” he assured her. He rose from the chair and joined her, his hands tight on her shoulders again. “Just one more time.”
“Sure,” she agreed, steeling the cold knot in her stomach. “Well?” she answered, not even bothering to say hello.
“You were late.”
Kendall heard the uncertainty in Garrick’s voice. Suspicion mixed with the beginnings of anger. He needed convincing. “I’m not a computer genius. It took me a while to figure out how to upload the damn photograph. That’s Trace’s area of expertise.” She could hear him still mulling it over, deciding whether to believe her. He needed one more push. “Ask Trace if you don’t believe me. He’ll tell you how technologically illiterate I am.”
“Why this picture?”
“You said you wanted one of us together. I like this one. A friend gave it to me. It was just a lucky shot.”
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you looked happy,” he teased.
“Why did you ask for the picture?”
“I wanted proof. Besides, I’ll need to be able to recognize him when I see him. Like I said before, you’ve hidden his identity quite well.”
“Who says you’ll be seeing him?” she countered.
“You did, when you picked him as your partner. I hope he loves you enough to die with you, Kendall.” He was silent for a moment. “Or should I say for you. You have two weeks to get him up to your level. I’ll have a map delivered to your house. Follow the instructions. If you don’t make it through my little adventure course on time, your brother will die.” He laughed. “And don’t think of trying to involve anyone else. I’ll know the instant that you do, and Trace will pay the price. And I promise you, it won’t be fast.”
He hung up, still laughing.
* * * *
“No, I don’t want any more units sent to the house. He may have people watching it.” It’d been forty-five minutes since Garrick had called, and Dawson hadn’t removed his phone from his ear since. “Just stake out those traces and let me know if you find anything.” He slammed the lid shut, cursing under his breath.
“I told you he was clever. Let me guess… You got two different locations for the phone calls, each so far apart it would’ve been impossible for him to get there in six minutes.” Kendall chuckled, but it was filled with uncertainty and sadness. “Anything he leaves behind is because he wants it found. He has no intentions of letting you find him, or Trace, before he’s played his game.”
“You could be right, but it doesn’t hurt to try. Even a genius makes mistakes sometimes.” He walked over to the brown leather couch she was sitting on, noting how the dark color matched the mood of the room. “I haven’t had a chance to tell you how great you were. I’ve never had a victim stay so calm before.”
“I’m not the victim, Trace is.” Her voice wavered as her breath hitched in her chest. He could see the tears building, demanding release. Her hands were shaking, and her face was white. “It would’ve given Garrick more satisfaction if he’d thought he’d…overwhelmed me. I didn’t want to give him that. Trace needs me to be strong, like he’d be.”
“Well, your brother would’ve been proud of your performance. You never missed a beat.”
Dawson sat down beside her on the couch, his body dangerously close to hers. He wanted to be near her, in case the shock wore off, and she gave in to the fear and sadness. He’d sensed those emotions when he’d held her under the tree. Her back had been rigid, her shoulders stiff, and despite the waves of heat that had risen off her body, she’d trembled beneath his touch. His heart had clenched as the need to comfort her had rioted his system. He’d felt it before, but never so intense it’d seemed to rob him of every coherent thought. He’d forced a smile then, knowing any actions would have to wait until after they’d dealt with Garrick’s demands. And now that they had, he could give her the support she needed. She took a labored breath. Surely she’d break soon. He nudged even closer.
Kendall clenched her jaw as he skimmed his body against her. He could see her bravado slipping, her body trembling as his breath ruffled her collar. She looked away.
“I know there must be a thousand questions you need to ask me, about Garrick Black and how we’re connected.” She paused to wipe a tear from her cheek, wincing when another took its place. “But do you suppose they could wait until morning? I’m very tired and I… I don’t think I’d be much good to you right now.”
“Of course,” he said, touching her shoulder, wondering if the simple act would trigger the emotional release she needed.
She tensed at his touch, and he wasn’t sure whether she’d pull away, or fall into his arms. He held his ground, caressing her shoulder with his thumb. She met his gaze for only a moment before standing up and wrapping her arms across her chest. “Will you be staying?”
He sighed, laying his arm along the back of the couch. “I’m not convinced you’re safe, Kendall, regardless of what you claim.”
She nodded. “There’s a guest wing down the first hall by the door. Make yourself at home.”
Then she was gone.
Dawson watched her leave, drawn to the gracefulness of her gait. He sighed, unable to discern the feeling gnawing at his stomach. She hadn’t given in, and he wasn’t sure if he was impressed, or disappointed. He snorted, pushing any stray thoughts away. He’d just wanted to comfort her, help her through this difficult period. He’d done it a hundred times, and never felt anything other than sympathy. Even if he’d held her, it wouldn’t have meant anything, would it?
He shook his head and picked up his phone, fingering the number without looking. “Hey Charlie, it’s me… Fine, but I need you to do me a favor. I’ve got a situation… Yeah, the Bureau’s looking into it, but I’d appreciate the added insight of your organization… No, I don’t want anyone else to know about it… Yes, I’ll make sure you get the usual compensation, though Tanya said if you took her to one more horse race, she’d never speak to you, or me, ever again… I’ll try. Now be a sport and find out everything you can on a man named Garrick Black. Everything, not just the easy stuff—oh, and Charlie, see what you can dig up on the Walker family. There’s a connection I need to know about, and I’m not convinced I’ll get the truth from my end… Thanks.”
He hung up. “Okay Kendall, I’ll wait, but I wonder what it is you’re hiding?”
Kendall closed the door and sank to the floor. Her bedroom was large, and the small scattering of furniture made her feel insignificant. She was still shaking, and she was finding it hard to stop the tears. It was her fault. It had to be. She knew Garrick wanted her—had known for years—but after all this time, she’d hoped…
“Why didn’t you just take me,” she growled, slamming her fist into the floor. But that wasn’t Garrick’s style. She pushed back up and headed for the bed. She’d get Trace back…no matter what the cost.
But what about Special Agent Dawson? taunted the voice in her head.
She frowned. She’d been so preoccupied with Garrick, and trying to stay in control, she’d allowed Dawson to waltz into the middle of it. And she hadn’t even put up a struggle!
You almost let him in.
Did that thought scare her more? She didn’t even know Dawson, and yet she’d wanted nothing more than to huddle against his chest, feel his strong arms enfold her. She’d never felt that way about anyone before. She sighed. It must be her fear for Trace confusing her. Her need to believe she could save him.
She cursed, wondering how she’d face Dawson tomorrow. She didn’t know what she was going to tell him. She’d been so young when it started, and so afraid, it was hard to remember everything. But
things were different now. She was different. And that was the one advantage she had over Garrick. She yawned. The race seemed so long ago, had it really been today? Her muscles ached and her stomach felt queasy. She picked up the dragon she’d tossed on the bed.
Trace.
She needed to sleep.
He’s trapped with that…psycho!
Garrick wouldn’t kill him, not yet anyway. He needed Trace to get to her. Besides, he wanted them both to suffer, and killing Trace would end his suffering. She collapsed on the bed, clutching the small stuffed animal to her chest.
Chapter Three
“Elizabeth, are the kids ready?” David stormed through the door, his coat billowing out behind him.
“It’s only been an hour.” Elizabeth threw her hands up, exasperated. “How do you expect me to pack up our life in an hour?”
“All we need we’ve got on our backs. The Feds will provide everything else.” He walked to the stairs. “Trace, Kendall, let’s go. We’re leaving now!”
Trace ran down the stairs, dragging his little sister behind him. “I’m ready, but Kendall can’t find her dragon. You know, the one Grandma bought her for her birthday. Grandma told her it’s her good luck charm, and she won’t leave without it.”
“I’m sorry, Kendall, but we have to go,” said her father, grabbing her by the wrist.
“But my dragon. I know it’s in my room. Please,” she pleaded, “just a few more minutes. I can find it.”
“I’ll help her,” volunteered Trace. “You know how much she loves it.”
“Just give them a few more minutes, David,” said Elizabeth. “What harm can it do?”
David turned to look at his wife. “You have no idea.”
Kendall jolted awake, her father’s voice still echoing in her head. She could feel his hand wrapped around her wrist, his fingers digging into her skin. He’d never been a gentle man, and just the memory of his anger was enough to keep her heart slamming against her ribs. It’d been years since she’d been back to that place—the beginning. She looked down, drawn to the small, green dragon beside her pillow.