by Marta Perry
“Jade…” His expression changed. Softened, as the neutral, expressionless, cop mask he’d been wearing slipped away. “I’m sorry. Look, I tried to explain the situation to you.”
“Not very well.” Maybe he had attempted some sort of explanation, but it hadn’t been enough. He blew out a breath. “Look, we don’t know who the leak is, only that he or she has access to way too much confidential information on the Witness Protection Program. It can’t be clerical staff or maintenance, because they don’t have access to that. This can only be someone with a security clearance as high as mine.”
“Another deputy marshal.” She was thinking, not reacting, and that was good. She was at her best when she followed her intelligence, not her instincts.
“Or a criminal investigator. Those are the only possibilities that I can see. So I can’t follow any of the normal procedures, because if I do, he’ll be able to guess what I’m up to. Where you are.”
She considered that, logic still battling her instinctive urge to trust him. “You make it sound as if he’s omnipotent.”
“Not that. It’s one person, not the whole department. But until we know who that one person is, no important information can go through there.” His brown eyes grew darker with what seemed to be caring. “Important information like where you are.”
That was sensible enough, but… “What about your brother? You know you can trust him. You haven’t called him.”
His lips twisted a little, as if in pain. “Jackson is in charge of the investigation now. When I tried to talk to him about the need to move you, he cut me off. Dead. As if I was nobody to him.”
He probably didn’t realize how much pain threaded through his words, and how much it revealed of the person he was. Her heart twisted.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I know how much that hurt.”
“Jackson goes by the rules. Everyone who knows him knows that. Ordinarily—well, I wouldn’t like it. But I’d go along with it. Not this time.”
His words seemed to vibrate in the enclosed space.
“Why not this time?” she almost whispered.
“Because I let my fear for you get in the way.”
He said it quietly, but it shook her as nothing else could.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice thickened. “I don’t want to cause problems for you with your brother.”
He blew out a breath that might almost be a sigh. “Don’t think that. This is between Jackson and me, and it’s not really anything new. He’s always thought of me as a kid.”
“How do you think of him?” She probably already knew the answer to that.
He shrugged. “My big brother the FBI super-agent?
He’s a hero, like our dad. Someone I’ve tried all my life to live up to. And never quite made it.”
She thought of what he’d said and what he hadn’t said. “He loves you.”
“I don’t doubt he loves me.” That betraying muscle twitched in his jaw again. “But respect me as a federal officer? That’s another question.”
She finished the thought. Because of this, he might never earn his brother’s respect. Despite Micah’s protestations, it seemed very likely that she’d caused a breach between them.
“He’s been trying to reach you, hasn’t he?”
Micah’s strong hands tightened on the wheel. “My brother, my boss…you name it, they’ve all been calling me.”
In other words, he was getting himself into serious trouble trying to protect her.
“Micah, why don’t you just call him? Tell him what you’re doing and why. Surely he’ll understand that you’re just trying to keep me safe. He knows you. He won’t doubt you, even if he doesn’t agree.”
“If I call him now, he’ll tell me to turn around and bring you back. We’ll be right where we were.” His forehead creased in a frown. “Look, as soon as I’ve gotten you to the lodge, I’ll call him. At least then I’ll know you’re okay. By then, his team should be in place, and they can take over.”
Micah’s gaze consulted the rearview mirror as he spoke, watching out for trouble. Looking out for her, as he had from the day they met.
She couldn’t doubt him, not now. “Okay,” she said. He shot a look at her. “Really? You’re not going to run to any more truckers with a wild story?”
“I promise.” She mimed crossing her heart. “Was it really such a bad thing? I mean, it turned out all right, didn’t it?”
“I hope.” He reached out, flicking on the CB radio on the dash. “The danger is that they’ll talk. If the chatter reaches the wrong ears…”
He let that die away, but she understood. She’d made his job harder. She’d put them in more danger. If the bad guys caught up to them, it would be her fault. Micah’s prayers seem to be falling into a pattern—a plea to be assured that he was doing the right thing for Jade. He’d acted on instinct, but hadn’t the events proved him right? If he hadn’t reached the hotel garage when he did, Jade would be dead.
The stark thought was an icy hand around his heart. No more second-guessing. He’d acted, and now he’d deal with the consequences. Fortunately, so far the chatter on the radio was mostly about the weather. It was worsening, of course. What else could he expect on a wintry January day in Montana? Flakes had been drifting down from a concrete-gray sky for the past half hour, but now they seemed to be getting denser by the moment.
Protect us, Father. I don’t see what else to do but this.
“The snow is getting worse.” Jade pressed one hand against the dash as she leaned forward to peer through the windshield. “I should be getting used to this by now, but I haven’t.”
“Pittsburgh gets its share of snow, doesn’t it?”
“Not like this. Anyway, in the city there’s always a building to break up the scenery. You don’t get this expanse of white, stretching so far you can’t see where the road ends.” She rubbed her arms, as if just looking at the snow made her cold.
“Staying on the road can be a matter of instinct.” He smiled, hoping to reassure her. “Or maybe dumb luck.”
“If I rely on that…”
He cut her off with a raised hand, zeroing in on the radio. His gut clenched as he listened to the chatter. Some trucker, probably bored with staring into endless snowflakes, was recounting the episode at the truck stop. Others chimed in. Jaw hard, he snapped it off.
“I’m sorry. It’s my fault.”
Jade sounded so dismayed that he couldn’t summon up any annoyance that things had turned out exactly as he’d feared.
“Forget it. Things happen, and we deal with them.” He smiled, hearing his father’s voice in his memory. “My dad used to say that to every misfortune, from a glass of spilled milk to a wrecked car. It’s not a bad piece of advice to live by, I’ve always thought.”
“If they find us because of what I did…” She let that trail off, her fingers closing into fists on her knees. He might have known she wouldn’t let it go that easily.
“Hey, take it easy. It was actually a very enlightening experience. I enjoyed seeing Jade the librarian turn into Jade the actress. I didn’t know you had it in you.”
“I didn’t, either.” Her hands relaxed a little at his lighthearted tone. “I’ve never done anything like that before. Too shy, or maybe too much of a coward. Ruby…Ruby wouldn’t hesitate to make a scene.”
“True.” He and Ruby had clashed loudly a couple of times when he was getting her settled. “Just because the two of you looked alike, it doesn’t necessarily follow that you’d have the same personality.”
“Do you think you’re like your brother?”
The question slipped under his guard. Ordinarily he’d deflect questions about Jackson with a quip, but Jade was different. He wanted to let her in.
“In some ways, I guess. Choice of profession, to name the obvious. And we both look a bit like our father. Otherwise…well, it’s sometimes seemed to me that we are about as different as could be.” He darted a glance at Jade, to find
her eyes focused on him intently. “He operates on rules and logic. You should like that.”
“You follow your instincts. Your heart.” Given the warmth of her voice, it didn’t sound as if she had any desire to swap him out with his brother.
“I’m not sure.…” His gaze flickered to the rearview mirror, and his breath hitched. For miles and miles there hadn’t been another vehicle on the road. Now a pair of headlights pierced the thickening snow.
“What is it?” Jade swiveled, her eyes widening at the sight of the headlamps behind them.
“It could be anybody,” he said quickly, but dread was pooling in his gut. The spacing and height of the headlamps told him it was probably a sedan. Even as he watched, the vehicle sped up, closing on them. He focused on the road ahead, trying to see beyond the swirling flakes. “Keep an eye on them. Let me know if they get any closer.”
“Right.” She sounded calm, but her hand gripped the edge of the seat until her knuckles were white. He accelerated cautiously, checking the screen of his GPS system, hoping to spot an exit.
“They’re closer.” Stress put an edge to Jade’s voice.
“It’s the maroon sedan.”
“Okay.” He reached out to squeeze her hand quickly.
“Make sure your seat belt is tight. I’ll try to stay ahead of them enough to get off at the next exit. We can’t lose them on the interstate.”
His hands gripped the wheel, and he squinted into the snow. It was getting close to a whiteout. Any sensible driver would slow down in this, but the car behind them grew rapidly closer.
They’d be on his bumper in a few more minutes. He pressed the gas, feeling the tires bite into the snow. His truck might be old, but it was solid. The guy behind him was either supremely confident of his driving ability or a total idiot. He was still closing.
Murmuring a silent prayer, he accelerated, dividing his attention between the road ahead and the rearview mirror. If he went off the road, he and Jade would be done for. The sedan loomed in the mirror like an animal springing on its prey. And then the lights swerved crazily. He held his breath, watching in the mirror as the driver struggled to regain control. The sedan spun for a long moment, skating across the road. Then it smashed into a snowbank.
“They’re off the road.”
“Thank You, God.”
Jade’s soft murmur touched his heart. He looked at the GPS screen.
“They could get back on the road again fairly quickly, depending on what damage they’ve done. We can’t take a chance. There’s an exit ramp coming up. We can get off there and hope the snow hides our tracks.”
“Are there any towns? Any place where we can get help?”
“Afraid not.” He tried to quell the worry that roiled within him. If he was making the wrong decision, he was risking Jade’s life.
“It’s okay.” Jade seemed to be reading his thoughts. “I trust your judgment, Micah.”
He nodded, the lump in his throat making speech impossible.
The exit lane opened up in front of them, unplowed but passable. Murmuring a silent prayer, he took the ramp. The two-lane side road was as snow-covered as the interstate. Trees crowded close on either side, their dark green shadows giving a respite from the endless white. He spared a glance for the mirror. “I don’t see anything.”
Jade turned in her seat, peering behind them. “Maybe we’ve lost them.”
“We can hope.” He wasn’t willing to grant that entirely, but the thought encouraged him. Maybe he was going to make this work. It wasn’t really that far to the lodge, and once he had Jade safe—
Black ice. He knew it as soon as he hit it, but that was already too late. The vehicle spun crazily, the wheels searching for traction where there was none. He steered into the skid, fighting to regain control, but it was impossible, the road was like a malevolent entity, gobbling them up. A tree loomed ahead of them. They slid toward it. He fought the wheel, trying to avoid it, but he couldn’t, they were going to hit—
Jade—his thoughts reached out to her. They hit in an explosion of sound, and everything went black.
THIRTEEN
Jade pressed herself upright in the seat, trying to make sense of what had happened. She stared at a jagged star pattern for a moment before realizing it was the shattered windshield.
The truck—they’d slid on the ice. They’d hit a tree. Micah—
She tried to turn toward him. Pain shot through her knees. Her breath catching, she forced herself to look at Micah. He slumped forward, as still as death. Blood dripped down over the steering wheel. Her heart thundered against her ribs as she unfastened her seat belt and scooted closer to him.
“Micah, are you all right?” Stupid question. Obviously he wasn’t all right. She reached toward him, almost afraid to touch him.
Lord, protect him. Show me what to do. If You hear me, show me what to do.
She grasped his shoulders, then reconsidered and braced his head with one hand as she moved him away from the steering column. He slumped back against the seat. Blood ran down his face from a cut in his forehead, and his eyes were closed.
He was alive. She pressed her fingers against his throat, memories of her most recent first-aid class jumbling in her mind. His skin was warm and the pulse thudded reassuringly. Get the bleeding stopped, that was the first priority, wasn’t it? Obviously no one was going to come along and help them. She was on her own.
She took a moment to assess herself. She must have cracked her knees on the dashboard when they hit, a reminder of the fact that the truck was too old to have airbags. She’d undoubtedly have plenty of bruises tomorrow, but everything seemed to be working. Micah wasn’t so fortunate.
“You’re going to be fine.” She turned, rummaging in the backseat for something to stop the bleeding. Reassure the patient. Never mind if your own nerves were screaming. “Just a cut on your head, that’s all.”
Was that all? He had lost consciousness, and that couldn’t be good. And she wouldn’t know if anything else hurt him unless—until—he woke.
Her groping fingers touched a duffel bag, and she pulled it toward her. It was a gym bag, maybe, packed for a workout. She yanked out a white T-shirt and wadded it up. Holding his head steady, she pressed the shirt against the cut. The bleeding had already slowed in the time it had taken to find a compress, and now his lack of consciousness worried her more than anything.
“Micah!” she said his name sharply. “Micah, wake up. Do you hear me?”
He groaned. His dark eyelashes flickered against his skin.
“That’s right, come on, wake up. We were in an accident. I need you to wake up.”
She knew only too well that panic edged her voice, and she tried to suppress it. They were alone, miles from anywhere, snow falling thickly around them. She could well imagine being stuck there until someone uncovered them in the spring thaw.
“Micah, wake up! I need you.”
“Don’t…shout.” His voice was a husky whisper, but it sounded comfortingly annoyed. “What happened?”
His eyes opened, and he seemed to make an effort to keep them that way.
“We slid off the road and hit a tree. Micah, talk to me.”
But his eyes had closed again, and a slight frown was the only response.
She had to get help. Holding the pad on his forehead with one hand, she reached out with the other and snagged the strap of her handbag, pulling it toward her. She yanked out her cell phone and flipped it open. Nothing. Not a single bar showed. They really were in the middle of nowhere.
Micah had used the radio to listen to the truckers. That meant he could talk on it, didn’t it? Hampered by her ignorance, she fumbled with it to no avail. She slapped her hand against the dash.
“I can’t get the radio to work. Or the cell phone. I guess we’re on our own.” She was talking as much for her benefit as his, trying to stave off panic. “I’m going to try to start the truck, but I’ll have to move you to do that.”
Gently, s
he took the pad away from the cut and let out a relieved sigh. The bleeding had slowed to a sluggish trickle. He might need stitches, but at least he wasn’t going to bleed to death.
More likely freeze to death. If she couldn’t get the car started and get some heat for them…
Well, no sense in thinking about the worst. “You’re going to have to help me, Micah.”
No response. She’d have to do it herself. Give me strength, Lord.
Thankful for her boots and wool slacks, she zipped her jacket and shoved open the door on her side. She slid out, sinking into the snow nearly to the tops of her boots. Dense flakes blew in her face and stuck to her hair. She pulled her hood up and made her way around the 4x4, squinting through the driving snow to assess the situation. It could be worse. They weren’t too far off the road and were nearly level with its surface. If the vehicle would start, she ought to be able to get it back on the road. If. First things first. She had to get Micah out of the driver’s seat before she could do anything. She opened his door and climbed up next to him.
It wouldn’t be easy to get him over the center console and into the other seat, even if he could help, and at the moment, he lolled back, boneless as a rag doll. She unhooked his seat belt, slid her arm under his and attempted to lift him toward the other seat.
Minutes later she was sweating in spite of the cold, and she hadn’t moved him an inch. She bit her lip. She’d never get it done without his help.
“Micah!” She grabbed his shoulder and shook him gently. “Wake up. You have to help me.”
This time when his eyes opened they seemed to focus. A gleam of intelligence encouraged her. “Jade.”
“Right. Jade. Come on, you have to help me. You need to move into the other seat so I can start the car.” His eyes began to drift shut, and she shook him again. “Don’t do that. Keep your eyes open. Whatever you do, keep your eyes open.”