"Look, I'm not going to hurt you," Morgan said. "I need to borrow your car. It's a matter of life and death."
The trembling young man rummaged in his pocket, pulled out his key chain and tossed it to Morgan. Morgan caught the keys in midair, then unlocked the Mustang, got in and started the engine. He drove off in a frenzy, tires screeching. The couple stood frozen to the spot, watching while the big man with the big gun zoomed out of the parking lot.
Bethany caught a glimpse of the blue Mustang behind her and recognized the driver immediately. But she didn't let on by word or action, hoping Tony wouldn't discover Morgan's presence.
"Where are we going?" Bethany asked.
"Just keep driving down 459," Tony said. "When we're far enough away from the mall, we'll ditch my car. We're going to make a little trip to the bank, and you're going to get me enough money so I can go into hiding in style."
"You'll never get away with this," she told him. "I'm sure Morgan has already alerted the police."
"Well, you'd better hope that the police don't show up. Because if they do, Anne Marie will die before they can take me alive."
Anne Marie cried out. Bethany nearly lost control of the Pontiac when she turned around to check on her child. Tony was running the edge of his revolver up and down the side of Anne Marie's face.
She had to find a way to help her daughter and herself, to save their lives. But if it came to saving herself or saving Anne Marie, there would be no choice to make. Anne Marie came first, always. She wouldn't want to live if anything happened to her child. Morgan's child.
"You don't have to do this, Tony," Bethany said. "You didn't kill Linc Prescott. He's going to be all right. And Jimmy was an evil man and I'm sure you had a good reason for killing him. Maybe it was self-defense. Whatever happened, I'll see to it that you have the best lawyer money can buy."
"Shut up! You and your damn money. Miss I'm - Too - Good - For - The - Likes - Of - You. You thought you were too good for Jimmy, too, didn't you? He really had a thing for you, you know? That's why I tried so hard to get in your pants. It would have killed him if I'd scored with you when he couldn't."
Keeping her vision focused on the highway, Bethany gripped the steering wheel tightly. "You framed me for Jimmy's murder. You deliberately set me up."
"It wasn't anything I planned," Tony said. "You just played right into my hands. You threatened to kill Jimmy one night and showed up at his office the next day and got into a fight with him. I saw you run out of his office, so I went in to see what had happened.
"Jimmy was wiping the blood off his face from where you'd scratched him. I saw your purse lying on the floor, so I picked it up. Jimmy was laughing about what a wild thing you were. I found the gun in your purse and pulled it out and shot him. He just stared at me as if he couldn't believe what I'd done. Then he called me son. That's when I filled the sorry bastard full of lead."
"Why, Tony? Why did you kill him? I thought you loved him?"
"Loved that good-for-nothing piece of trash? I hated his guts. Do you know the only reason he allowed me into his life, the only reason he made me his sidekick on Wake Up Birmingham? Do you? Huh? Huh?" Tony's voice grew louder and louder.
"No, why?"
"Because I was blackmailing the old son of a bitch! He didn't want his fans finding out that he'd deserted his pregnant teenage sweetheart and that he had an illegitimate son he'd never claimed. He didn't think his right-wing, conservative, redneck fans would understand if, as that son, I told them the truth about their beloved Jimmy Farraday. That he'd known all along where I was and never bothered to see me. Not once my entire life."
"He gave you everything you wanted," Bethany said. "Why kill him?"
"Because he promised me that if we could work it out so that his fans believed we were a loving father and son reunited, he'd acknowledge me as his son and make me his legal heir along with James."
"What happened?"
"Whenever I asked him when he was going to claim me, when he was going to acknowledge me as his son, he kept putting me off. I finally realized that he had no intention of ever publicly claiming me. So I confronted him and you know what he did? He laughed in my face. Said I had it too good the way things were, that I'd be stupid to rock the boat."
"When—when did he say that to you?"
"The day before I killed him."
Bethany glanced into the rearview mirror. The blue Mustang was still following them.
Tony eased back in the seat, drawing Anne Marie back with him.
Morgan wondered how long it would take Tony to realize that he was right behind them. If Tony didn't look back or if Bethany didn't do anything to alert Tony of his presence, he would be able to follow them to their destination.
Suddenly Morgan noticed a highway patrol car behind him. His heart jumped up in his throat. Hell! How would Tony react if he saw the car? Would he panic? Hurt Anne Marie? Hurt Bethany?
The patrol car pulled out from behind Morgan and into the left lane, easing past him and up beside the black GTO Bethany was driving.
"What the hell?" Tony lowered the gun from Anne Marie's face to behind her back. "You'd better hope that guy doesn't cause any trouble."
Bethany held her breath, praying, pleading with God, offering Him anything, including her own life, if He kept her child safe.
The patrol car passed the GTO, heading northeast on Highway 459. Bethany let out a sigh of relief. Anne Marie gasped in deep gulps of air.
"Take the next exit," Tony said.
"Why?" Bethany asked.
"Just do as I say!"
Bethany kept watch in the rearview mirror as she exited 459. The blue Mustang exited right behind her. When they looped around the exit road and Bethany pulled the GTO up to a stop sign, Tony glanced out the back window.
Moisture coated Bethany's hands. Sweat trickled between her breasts. Her heartbeat accelerated as her heart frantically pumped blood through her tense body.
"It's Kane!" Tony shouted. "How long has he been behind us?" When Bethany made no reply, he kicked the back of her seat. "Answer me, dammit. How long has he been following us?"
"Since we left the mall."
"You're going to lose him, do you hear me? Turn right and put your foot down hard on the gas pedal."
"How can I speed through red lights and stop signs?"
"Go as fast as you can until we get through traffic, then you open her up and get away from Kane. If you don't get away from him, when we finally stop, he'll find your kid's brains all over the seat back here."
Bethany maneuvered the Pontiac through the traffic as quickly as she could, then following Tony's directions, headed the car away from the heavily populated area. The minute she reached an open stretch of road, she speeded up, going faster and faster.
Morgan pursued them, knowing for certain that Tony had spotted him. The idiot had undoubtedly told Bethany to lose him. Stopping Tony would be easy. Morgan knew a dozen ways to put an end to this chase. But he didn't know one way to end it without endangering the lives of the two people he loved most in the world.
Yes, he loved Bethany. And he loved her daughter. Being faced with the possibility that he might not be able to save either mother or daughter forced him to admit his feelings. Dear God, why had it taken something like this to make him realize it?
Morgan saw the big rig pulling out from a side road. What the hell was wrong with the driver? Didn't he see the black GTO headed his way, directly in his path?
Bethany saw the eighteen wheeler! Could she stop the car in time to keep from hitting the massive truck? Whipping the steering wheel around, she veered the car off the road to avoid hitting the truck. They bounced up and down as the old Pontiac skidded at high speed across a sloping grassy area. Bethany tried to slam on the brakes, but she lost control of the car as it flipped over and rolled down the hill. The GTO flipped over a second time before it came to a crashing halt against an enormous oak tree.
Morgan stopped, jumped out of the
Mustang and ran down the side of the hill. The front end of the GTO was wrapped around a tree and steam poured out from under the hood.
For a split second Morgan's heart stopped beating. And he knew that if Bethany was dead, he didn't want to live.
* * *
Chapter 16
« ^ »
Tony Hayes crawled out of the back seat of his wrecked GTO. Unsteady on his feet, he staggered when he tried to stand. He clutched the revolver to his chest. Blood trickled from his smashed nose and oozed from his busted lip. He glared, bleary-eyed, at the woman and girl trapped inside the car.
Morgan Kane halted his descent from the road, watching as Tony moved away from the crumpled Pontiac. Sunshine reflected off the shiny metallic butt of Tony's gun. Morgan eased his Sig from the holster. He had to get close enough for a clean shot because one shot might be all he'd get.
"Stay right there!" Tony yelled, glaring at Morgan.
"Give it up, Tony. If you hurt Bethany or Anne Marie, you can't get out of this situation alive." Morgan eased closer and closer.
"I told you to stop, dammit!"
Pointing his revolver at the car, Tony fired twice in rapid succession. Anne Marie screamed. Morgan raced down the hill, stopping when he was within range, aimed his gun and fired. Tony Hayes dropped to the ground. Morgan ran toward the car, briefly glancing at Tony's lifeless body, at the bullet hole between his eyes, as he hurried past him.
"Bethany? Anne Marie?" Please, dear God, let them both be alive.
"Get Anne Marie out," Bethany pleaded, her voice a weak whisper.
"I'll get you both out!" Morgan smelled gasoline. Hell! Had one of the bullets from Tony's gun hit the fuel tank?
He tried opening the driver's side door so he could get to Bethany. It was stuck. He tried again and then again. Finally, he jerked open the crushed door. Bethany was trapped between the seat and the steering wheel, which had been forced against her chest on impact.
How much time did he have? he wondered. Was the fuel tank ruptured? Would the car catch on fire and explode?
He had to get Bethany out of the car. Had to save her. Without her, his life was meaningless.
Bethany looked at him. Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. She couldn't move anything except her head. Her arms were trapped. And she couldn't even feel her legs.
"Not me," she pleaded. "Anne Marie. I don't know how badly she's hurt. She hasn't said a word since she screamed. Please, please, Morgan, save our little girl."
Every muscle in Morgan's body tensed, every nerve rioted. What did she mean, "our little girl?" She was probably delirious, probably didn't know what she was saying.
Morgan grabbed the steering wheel and shoved with all his strength. He managed to bend it forward, but not enough to release its grip on Bethany.
"Forget me," Bethany cried out, tears streaming down her face. Hadn't he understood what she'd said? Didn't he realize that Anne Marie might be dying? That nothing mattered except saving their child's life? "Morgan, you must save Anne Marie."
"I told you that I'll get you both out."
"There may not be time to save both of us," Bethany said. "I can smell the gasoline, too, you know."
"Just shut up." He ran his hand across her bruised and bloody face, wiping the blood that trickled from her mouth. "I love you, dammit! I can't let anything happen to you."
"You can't let anything happen to Anne Marie." Bethany gazed into his eyes, her heart pleading with his, begging him to understand what she wanted him to do, what he had to do. "Anne Marie is your daughter. Do you hear me, Morgan? She's our little girl. Yours and mine."
The truth hit him like a sledgehammer in the gut. Anne Marie was his daughter! A part of him. A part of Bethany. The living, breathing proof of their love. They had created her together. She was their immortality. She was the two of them. By saving her, he saved Bethany. And he saved himself.
Kissing Bethany's bruised forehead, Morgan eased his shoulders back out the driver's side door and crawled inside the left back door that hung open. He found Anne Marie's unmoving body twisted into a heap against the back of the caved-in front seat.
When he eased his arms under her and lifted her, she groaned.
"It's all right, sweetheart. Daddy's here. I'll take care of you."
"Mama? Is Mama okay?" She lifted her bound hands and swung them over Morgan's head and around his neck.
He had no time to think, to consider things from every angle. He acted purely on instinct, on the dictation of his heart, the commands of his soul. His soul and Bethany's. Joined. United forever in the precious child he held in his arms.
Morgan eased backward, out of the car, and carried Anne Marie several yards away from the GTO. He laid her down on the ground and looked at her for one heart-stopping moment. His daughter. His and Bethany's child.
"I'll be right back, sweetheart," he told her. "I have to go get your mother."
When he started back toward the GTO, the smell of gasoline overwhelmed him. Don't let her die, Morgan prayed. Please, let me get her out of the car before it explodes. Ask any price from me and I'll pay it. Just don't let her die!
"I'm back, honey." He caressed Bethany's bruised and swollen cheek. "I got Anne Marie out safely. Now, we've got to get you out of here."
"Is she all right?" Bethany asked.
"She'll be all right, once she sees that you're safe."
Morgan worked frantically trying to free Bethany. His heart beat hard and fast. Sweat coated his face, trickling down his jaw and onto his throat.
Off in the distance sirens blared. The police? An ambulance? Maybe both. Hurry, he prayed. Hurry!
"I don't want you trapped here with me if the car explodes," Bethany said. "Don't die trying to save me."
"Shut up, will you, honey!" Moisture glazed Morgan's eyes. "Let's get this straight right here and now. Nobody's going to die."
The siren's wail grew nearer. A masculine voiced called out from the top of the hill.
"I phoned the police," the eighteen-wheeler's driver said. "I told them it was bad. I think that's an ambulance we hear."
Morgan heard the man but didn't take time to reply. If he ever got his hands around the truck driver's neck, he was liable to strangle the life out of him.
Finally the front seat moved a few inches. Morgan eased his hand under Bethany's hips and slid her sideways toward him. She cried out in pain. Sharing her suffering, feeling it in every fiber of his heart and body, Morgan froze instantly. Her agonized cry immobilized him momentarily.
"I'm sorry, Beth. I'm so very sorry." He was pleading for her forgiveness for the pain he would put her through in removing her from the car. But he was also asking her to forgive him for the past, for leaving her sixteen years ago. For leaving her pregnant with his child.
"It's all right!" She gasped for air. "Do what you have to do."
Morgan pulled her from the wrecked GTO. Bethany screamed when the pain became unbearable. She went limp against him. Lifting her into his arms, he ran with her, away from the car. He knelt on the ground, lowering Bethany down beside their daughter.
Anne Marie sat up and leaned over her mother. "Mama? Mama!"
"She fainted from the pain," Morgan said. He checked her pulse and found it weak.
"How bad is it?" A uniformed policeman called out as he ran down the hill. "An ambulance is on the way. Do we need to call the hospital and have them fly out a trauma team?"
"Yes," Morgan yelled. Yes. It was bad down here. And yes, they needed an emergency helicopter to med-flight Bethany to Carraway. There was no way to know how serious her injuries were, but Morgan's training and instincts told him that she probably had severe internal injuries.
"How many are injured?" the policeman asked.
Before Morgan could reply, a loud explosion rocked the earth. Gasping, Anne Marie grabbed Morgan's arm with her bound hands. They stared at the fire-engulfed GTO. Flames shot high into the sky as dark smoke billowed around the burning vehicle.
/> * * *
Morgan paced the floor in the surgical waiting room. Wild with fear and regret, he was inconsolable. Once the emergency room doctor had assured him that, although Anne Marie had a slight concussion, she would be fine when her cuts and bruises healed and time repaired her sprained ankle and wrist, he demanded to speak to Bethany. He was told that she'd been rushed into emergency surgery and the prognosis wasn't good.
Eileen and Seth tried to talk to him. He snarled at them like a cornered animal ready to attack. James tried to reassure him, but he cursed the boy's youthful stupidity.
Guilt weighed heavily on Morgan's heart. This was all his fault. Everything was his fault. If he lost Bethany, he had no one to blame but himself. Was this his punishment for being a blind fool? For not appreciating the most precious gift a man can be given, the love of a woman like Bethany?
James wheeled Anne Marie into the waiting area. Her grandmother leaned over and kissed her. She maneuvered the wheelchair across the room to where Morgan stood in the corner, his buck to the room.
"Morgan?"
He tensed, but he didn't turn around.
"Don't be angry with her for lying to us," Anne Marie said. "I don't know why she kept the truth from us, but I know my mother, and she had to have had a very good reason."
Oh, God in heaven, he wasn't angry with Bethany. He was angry with himself. It all made sense now, a crazy, painful sense. Bethany had allowed her mother and his parents to force her into marriage with Amery because she'd been pregnant and she'd had no idea where on earth her baby's father was.
His poor, sweet Beth blamed herself for being weak and insecure. She blamed herself for Amery's death. And all along she should have put the blame where it belonged. Squarely on his shoulders.
"Morgan?" Anne Marie called out to him again. "I—I suppose we should have figured it out, huh? I mean we should have guessed that you were my father. It's funny, but when Nana used to tell me her Morgan stories, I'd pretend that you were my father and not Amery."
Morgan cleared his throat. "I didn't know anything about you. If I'd known…"
Eileen clasped her fingers over Anne Marie's shoulders. "Your mother didn't realize she was pregnant until after Morgan left town sixteen years ago. No one knew how to get in touch with him. You were three years old before anyone knew that he was in the Navy."
A MAN LIKE MORGAN KANE Page 25