Born in Mystery

by Susan Kearney

  “Sure. I need the calcium.”

  Ten minutes later, she was licking chocolate off her lips while he tried to think of something besides the shape of her mouth. Besides kissing her.

  Other couples strolled along the shore. Several people walked their dogs. Someone rode a skateboard with a sail attached down the beach—typical Southern California, September craziness.

  To avoid bumping her, Craig unclipped his cell phone from his belt and reattached it to his other side. Bianca slipped off her heels. As they strolled side by side, he recalled the softness of her breasts pressing against him when she’d clung to him earlier. He recalled the feel of her in his arms, the scent of vanilla, the tender way she’d placed his hand over her womb, and he ached to—

  Stop it.

  What the hell was wrong with him? The woman had secrets that might be vital to the welfare of his children. Instead of thinking about romance, he should be grilling her.

  “Where’s the rest of your family?”

  “Gran and her brother are the only family I have.”

  “And your parents?”

  “My parents died in a train crash when I was ten.”

  “What about brothers and sisters?”

  “Just me.”

  Craig might have been avoiding his brothers for a while, but he couldn’t imagine growing up without them. They were close. Despite the fact that he’d isolated himself he could pick up his cell and his brothers would be there for him. And if they could have taken the pain of his losing Linda from him, they would have born it gladly.

  “My grandparents were the only family I had left—except for Gran’s useless younger brother, Bob.”

  “Useless?”

  “Bob only came around when he needed money for liquor. He was famous for ranting about some missing stock that Gran said couldn’t possibly exist.”

  “So you lived with your grandparents?”

  “Yes. Two years after my parents’ train accident, Grandfather died of emphysema, leaving Gran to take care of me alone. Gran never once complained, scrubbing floors to earn the money to raise me. She’d come home and prepare my favorite foods, and at night, she’d sew doll clothes for my collection.”

  Bianca stumbled over a rock. He reached out to prevent her from falling.

  A rifle shot cracked the air.

  Chapter Three

  A BULLET WHIZZED past the spot where Craig’s head would have been if he hadn’t bent to catch Bianca. Closer to the water, a rock shattered. Additional bullets ricocheted into the ocean with hissing whines.

  Bianca’s heart slammed her ribs. The initial firecracker pops of the shots choked the air and echoed along the cliffs. People on the beach screamed and shouted in panic. Had the shooter fanned the waterfront with a spray of ammunition? Or had she been the real target?

  In the distance a dog barked, and car headlights on the highway above slowed to a stop.

  He’d found her.

  If Craig hadn’t leaned forward, he might be dead. She’d put Craig in danger. The babies in danger. That shot had been meant for her.

  Oh, God. What had she done?

  “Come on.” Craig grabbed her hand and yanked her toward the safety of the cliffs, out of the line of fire.

  Shots zinged by, spattering dirt.

  Hand in hand, they zigzagged, sprinting over the rough terrain. Her breath came in rasps, stabbing her with guilt. Her eyes brimmed, and she stumbled, would have fallen if not for Craig’s steadying hand.

  Within seconds, they’d reached the relative protection of the cliffs’ base. Above, the cliffs inky silhouette blacked out the stars. The shadows hid the sniper from view.

  Craig tugged her in the direction of the ice cream stand. “Let’s work our way to my car.”

  “No!” She dug in her heels and resisted with every ounce of strength she had, almost toppling him.

  “But—”

  “Whoever fired those shots will expect us to return to the car. He’ll pick us off along the way.”

  “Fine. We’ll stay here until help arrives.” He took out his cell phone. “I’ll call the police.”

  “No.” She grabbed the phone, her voice low, urgent and as forceful as she could make a whisper. “There’s no time. We have to flee.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Despite the weariness tugging at her, her instinct to run was ingrained. She wasted several seconds trying to convince him that fleeing was their only option. “The sniper will work his way down from the cliffs’ before help arrives.”

  “He may not follow us.”

  His tone had a sharp deadliness she’d never heard before. She urged him farther away from the ice cream stand, staying close to the cliffs base for protection.

  Her skin broke into a sweat in the cool night air. “There’s no time to explain. He’s after me. He knows he didn’t succeed. You can go. I’ve got to hide then escape.” She glanced up at the cliffs. “He’ll be hunting me, and I need to take cover.”

  “What makes you think he’s only after you?” He uttered an inarticulate growl. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not leaving you alone.”

  Grateful he’d stay with her and thankful he had the good sense not to waste precious time with more questions, she held tightly to his hand. The night had already thrown her one too many curves, and staying alive took priority over making explanations. Hugging the shadows of the cliff that separated them from the road above and shielded them from the sniper, they stumbled along the beach at the foot of the precipice.

  From the direction of the ice cream stand, flashlights shone in their direction. If the beams caught them, the sniper would have a clear shot.

  Move faster.

  Craig’s husky tone encouraged her. “We’re almost there.”

  There? She saved her breath and, with a last surge of adrenaline, lunged into the shadows of huge boulders that rose from the rocky beach. Ducking behind a car-size rock, she halted and gasped air into oxygen-starved lungs.

  Craig, barely breathing hard, pointed to a dark spot about twelve feet above them. “Can you climb up there?”

  “If there are stairs.”

  He ignored her sarcasm. “I’ll help you.”

  Her hands shook, but she kept the fear from her voice. How ridiculous. It was a measure of her panic that they might be about to die and she was worried whether Craig thought her brave.

  “Wait here. Let me check it out.” He disappeared into the darkness. His clothing rustled. She heard a grunt. A few seconds later, he reappeared beside her. “I found a four-foot indentation that cuts the wind and a lip that’ll hide us.”

  A police siren wailed. Lights advanced along the beach.

  Gulping air, Bianca forced herself to go on. “Lead the way.”

  In the end, she tossed her shoes up before attempting the climb. Craig found small ledges and smaller handholds in the cliff face and talked her up part of the way. Two feet short of the cave’s floor, she couldn’t reach the next handhold. Craig climbed around her then hauled her up with the smooth ease of an Olympic athlete.

  Just in time. The lights would reach them soon. Drawing back into the nook, she placed her shoes on feet that felt like ice cubes. Her teeth chattered, and Craig drew her into his arms, sharing his warmth and pressing her farther into the shadows.

  When she shivered, he removed his jacket and placed it around her shoulders. Even as she snuggled into the remaining warmth of his body heat, she protested in a murmur, “You’ll freeze.”

  “Not with you in my arms,” he whispered huskily. He gathered her close, his hands on her shoulders, and tucked her head under his chin. He rubbed warmth into her back, courage into her spine. She told herself leaning against him was a normal reaction after almost being killed. With him protecting
her, she felt out of danger.

  A perilous assumption. Whoever had shot at them had found her. Obviously, she hadn’t done a good enough job of disappearing.

  Because of her bungling, she’d put Craig and his children at risk. What would he do if she told him the truth? When she’d planned her escape, she hadn’t considered she might endanger Craig Braddack—or develop feelings for him. As he stood in the dark, defending and warming her with his body, she realized she owed him the truth.

  Careful to keep her voice to just a murmur, she tugged on his arm. “Craig?”

  “Yes?” He shifted so she could see the light beams searching the cliffs. They still had several minutes to converse in low tones before they risked being overheard by the searchers.

  She leaned into him, wondering how much she should reveal. Craig shifted again, and her thoughts scattered. His hand cupped her chin, gently tugging her face toward him.

  “Are you cold?”

  “Yes. No. I’m not sure.”

  She sensed his grin. When they finally left this nook, they might die. Yet with him holding her close, her ear pressed to the reassuring beat of his heart, she felt safe.

  He wrapped protective arms around her like a cozy wool blanket. Sharing the heat from his coat, she drank in the warmth of his nearness, relieved she didn’t have to bear this by herself. He held her cradled against his chest as if she were precious and fragile glass. She’d been held before—but never like this. While she’d love to accuse him of taking advantage of the situation, he hadn’t taken anything she hadn’t been willing to give.

  Someone below let out a shout.

  “Have they spotted us?” she whispered.

  “I don’t think so. Just hold still, and the shadows should hide us.”

  She obeyed instantly. What kind of rapport was forming between Craig and her? Did fear escalate other emotions? She quailed at the possibility that she’d responded to him because of the babies growing inside her. Encircled by Craig’s warmth, she stood in the dark, the scent of his mint-chocolate-chip ice cream lingering in her nostrils, his embrace taunting her with unnamed longing.

  She forced her attention to the events below. After what seemed like hours, the search party with flashlights left the beach, and Craig helped her down to the sand. Peering through the dark, she expected a shot to her back, agonizing pain between her shoulder blades. The wind picked up off the water, and the chilly humidity caused her to burrow deeper into Craig’s coat. In just a thin shirt, he must be freezing. If not for her pregnancy, she would have insisted on returning his jacket.

  “Are you up for a short walk?” His voice was as calm as if asking her to stroll in the park.

  They couldn’t return to his car. She opened her mouth to protest but closed it with a snap when he briskly led her in the opposite direction from which they’d come.

  She hurried to keep up with his longer stride. “Where are we going?”

  “Ahead of us, the beach widens.” He dialed his cell phone in the moonlight. “Let’s hope Brad’s at home.”

  “Whoever Brad is, tell him to bring a rope.” At the thought of scaling the towering cliffs in the dark, she shuddered.

  “Rock climbing shouldn’t be necessary. Up ahead, there’s a path between the cliffs that leads to the road.”

  Thirty minutes later, they flagged down Brad’s car. Bianca was grateful for the warmth as she slid into the back seat of the vehicle. Craig took the front seat beside his friend.

  Brad grinned a greeting. “Where to?”

  “Home.”

  “No.” Bianca leaned forward. “Take us somewhere unexpected. Somewhere we can hide.”

  At her suggestion, Craig stiffened, but then he turned in his seat half-facing her and nodded. “We can pick up another car at my office. Then Brad can go home, okay?”

  Brad’s brows lifted, and he opened his mouth to speak.

  His eyes resembling the darkest of rain clouds, Craig cut him off, his words sure and strong. “Don’t ask. The lady owes me an explanation first.”

  AFTER A SOOTHING shower at Craig’s ski chalet in the Sierras, Bianca, wrapped in a thick robe, sat before a massive stone fireplace. She sipped hot chocolate while across from her Craig lifted the stopper from a cut-glass decanter.

  In a few weeks, Bianca knew, the mountains would cast spectacular fall colors across the hills and valleys. Even this early, the mountain air had a chill. But the air around Craig was frigid.

  “I’ll leave in the morning,” she told him softly. “If this cabin’s in your name, I can’t stay here long.”

  Craig’s eyes narrowed at the implication. “Let me get this straight. If you stay, the sniper will find you?” The silence stretched out for several long minutes. He poured himself a bourbon, downed the liquor in one easy swallow, then poured another. He pinned her with a hard look, his eyes so dark they let in no light at all. “What makes you think that sniper was after you and not someone else on the beach?”

  She remained silent a moment longer, trying to put her thoughts in order before answering. Where should she start? How could she make him understand what she’d done?

  Craig scowled. “Since my life and my children are at risk, you’d best tell me who’s after you.”

  “I don’t know.”

  She shifted uneasily, wondering if she’d ever fee! safe again. Would she be forced into hiding and lying for the rest of her life? Outside, the wind howled like a wild animal. Despite the cozy fire and the comfortable cabin, Bianca shivered.

  His lips twisted with disbelief. “You have no idea who’s trying to kill you?”

  “None. There have been other incidents. I was scared. I went to the police.”

  “They couldn’t protect you?” He tightened his long fingers around the glass until the sharp edges had to be cutting into his palm. Judging from the muscle clenching and unclenching in his jaw, he was furious. Yet she knew by now he wouldn’t hurt her.

  Ah, how she wished she could tell him everything. “I’m not even sure the police believed me. I had no proof.” She twisted her mug in her hands and finally set it down before guilt, warring with anger and fear, caused her to spill the steaming chocolate. “I didn’t want to prove I was right by providing them with my corpse.”

  She didn’t want to tell him what she’d done next. Picking up her napkin, she wadded the paper into a ball, then slowly shredded it. She had to tell him. Even if it ruined their tentative truce. The comforting embrace they’d shared on the beach made admitting her deception so much more difficult. Not just because she’d tried so hard only to have everything blow up in her face, but because, she grudgingly admitted to herself, she was starting to care about him.

  Without the lies to protect her, she’d have to survive his wrath—and hope that his love for the children outweighed his anger at her. Tossing aside the shredded napkin, she crossed her arms and rubbed the goosebumps on her arms. Putting off the worst revelation a moment longer, she licked her stiff, dry lips.

  “I’ve lied to you. And Gran lied to you after I called her and told her what to say. You have to understand, I didn’t think he’d find me.” She dropped her head into her hands, despair invading her heart. Craig deserved better. Somehow she found the strength to raise her head and lock gazes with him. “This morning, I was in the park, and a man on a motorcycle tried to kill me.”

  “What did he look like?” he snapped, impatience clear in his voice.

  She shrugged, trying not to let his obvious suspicion slice so deep. “He wore a helmet. The shield hid his features.”

  “Clever.”

  His eyes glittered, and she couldn’t tell if he’d referred to her or her attacker, but either way his comment was no compliment. Nothing he could say would make the torment ripping her apart any worse. Soon he’d comprehend she’d done the unfo
rgivable. His bloodless tone made her shudder. What would he do to her when he learned what she had to tell him? Only knowing this was the same man who’d taken such good care of her on the beach made it possible to go on.

  She shoved to her feet. “After I got away from the motorcyclist, I found a police officer. When we returned, my assailant had vanished. I couldn’t return to my apartment or use my car. I told the cop the bike was mine.”

  “Why?”

  “I needed to disappear. Fast.” She gave a choked, desperate laugh and paced. Anything was better than guessing what he was thinking. “I was so shaken, I could barely remember I’d once been taught how to ride a bike. The black leather clothes I found in the saddlebags seemed like a gift.”

  When he said nothing, she risked a glance at him. He raised an eyebrow, his expression saying better than any comeback what he thought of her story. But she needed him to believe her.

  “That’s when I came to you,” she continued, ashamed he thought her capable of callously taking advantage of him when she’d wanted to give him something good and pure. She ached to reach out and soothe the worry lines on his face with the tips of her fingers, yearned to take him into her arms. Instead, she said simply, “I had nowhere else to go.”

  His eyes darkened with skepticism. “Where did the duffel bag come from?”

  If there was a way to brace herself for his wrath, she had yet to find it. She trembled inside, knowing he would soon slice to the heart of the matter. “I’d stashed the duffel in a locker at the bus station.”

  “You were prepared for an attack?” Incredulity laced his tone.

  She took a deep breath, released the air out in a hiss, raised her chin and finally spoke with a forcefulness she was far from feeling. “I’ve been threatened before. This is the second time I’ve had to . . . disappear.”

  His face creased with a frown, the tiny lines around his troubled eyes deepening. “I don’t understand.”

  “I never intended to put your children at risk,” she hesitantly began.