Jonas scrambled from his knees and hit Eckert in the chest this time. The air coughed out of the man’s lungs as he doubled over. Hunched over and wheezing, they circled each other. Every inch of Jonas’s body ached and cried out for rest. He pushed it all out to focus on the snarling man across from him.
Ready to go again, Jonas shifted his weight to aim another hit. A flash of green streaked over Eckert’s shoulder. The unexpected color took him off his game, shook his concentration. Eckert landed a solid punch to the jaw that sent Jonas’s head bouncing back.
He blinked out the darkness. When his vision returned he saw Courtney’s arms shake as she held a box the size of a toaster oven with dials on it and cords hanging down from the back, a piece of equipment of some type.
Eckert’s eyes grew wide as if he sensed danger behind him. He turned just in time for her to lift the dark square over her head and crash it down on the side of Eckert’s skull. He went boneless. His body slumped to the floor as blood trickled from his temple.
People crowded in from every direction. Many were shouting. Two men held on to Jonas’s arms. He fought through it all, the chaos and the disbelief. Someone shouted something about calling the police.
Courtney muscled her way into the crowd and shoved everyone else aside. “He is the police.”
In the stunned mumbling and rapid-fire questions that followed, she maneuvered him to the stairs. He called out over his shoulder to a nurse hovering over Eckert. “Page the sheriff. Walt Roberts. He’s in the building.”
Then they were out the door and the cool air hit Jonas’s face, reviving his tired muscles. He’d taken ten steps before his brain jump-started again. “I told you to run and not look back.”
She looped her arm through his. “I had to save you first.”
He hated to admit it, but leaning against her was the only thing keeping him on his feet. “I should say thank-you.”
“You can do that if we somehow get through this.”
Chapter Seven
Kurt boarded the private plane late that afternoon. The crew had been on standby all day, with the manifest ready and his bags packed.
As the hours ticked by, dread washed over Kurt. He canceled meetings and put off phone calls. His private line rang three times, none with the news he wanted to hear.
Making the trip was the right thing to do. He invented a business problem and sent the wife to a spa. The kids had their own lives now and didn’t need him. He could devote all of his attention to handling this problem before it exploded into a full-blown disaster.
He slid into the soft leather seat and dumped his briefcase on the table. Sitting back, he helped himself to a glass of scotch and let his mind go blank. The smell of jet fuel burned through his nose and the roar of the engine blocked his ears. For a few seconds he enjoyed the peace that came from watching others work as the pilots conducted their last-minute checks.
He’d be busy from the second he touched down in Oregon.
And when he returned it would all be over. Finally.
* * *
INSTEAD OF GOING to the hospital lobby and out into the fresh air, Jonas steered them down another flight to the basement. A few flashes of his badge later and they stood in a windowless office lined with television monitors.
Courtney wished she had the kind of power to send people scurrying to help her. That had never been her life. She’d begged and no one listened. Having the reputation of “the woman who refused to believe” didn’t open any doors for her.
“Here you go, sir.” The man in the brown uniform and a tag that read Security clicked a few keys, and the dark screen on the far right flickered to life. “Just use these buttons to rewind and fast-forward.”
Jonas’s fingers hovered over the keyboard. “I’ll need to confiscate the video.”
“Sheriff Roberts already called about getting the daily security disc.” The guard pointed to a red button. “Push this and it will eject. A backup disc is running and will take over.”
“Good, because we’ll need to keep taping for as long as this patient—” Jonas tapped another monitor showing Eckert being loaded onto a stretcher “—is here.”
“Do you want me to get the sheriff now so you guys can work out jurisdiction or whatever?”
She waited for Jonas to throw his weight around or start issuing orders. In her experience, the guy with the highest rank and biggest mouth took over, regardless of his competency for the task.
“No,” Jonas said, his voice filled with calm detachment. “Walt’s busy handling the problem upstairs.”
The guard finally looked at her. “Nice shot to that guy’s head with the equipment, by the way.”
She had no idea what to say, so she smiled back. She waited until the man left before studying the images on the screens. “I thought we were leaving.”
“Soon.”
She pulled up a chair and sat down next to Jonas. The urge to press her hand to his cheek nearly swamped her, but she fought it back. “Honestly, you don’t look too good.”
“Thanks.”
He’d been through an accident and a fight. From the messed-up hair, the blood soaking through his bandage and the new bruises around his jaw, he looked more as if he’d been thrown under a car than tossed around in one.
And every cut and ache traced back to her. The least she could do was make sure he stayed on his feet long enough to get some help. “I’m thinking you need medical attention.”
“We’re in the right place.”
“A small room in the basement?”
“At least it’s at the bottom of a hospital.”
The man needed a keeper. “Jonas, I’m serious here.”
“I want to take a quick look at this security tape.” He hit Rewind, and the scene with Eckert flew by.
“There.” She got a glimpse of her image on-screen and thought she didn’t look so hot, either.
“Let’s see what we have.”
The sight of them walking backward in double time mesmerized her. “Why is it important?”
“I want to see how Eckert got free and what he was doing while he roamed around the hospital.”
They could look later, but she knew she’d never convince Jonas of that. On a mission, he sat there, focused, while he winced with even small movements of his arm.
“Stop.” She pointed at the screen. “There he is.”
Eckert stood huddled in a hallway corner. After glancing around, he turned and took something out of his pocket.
Jonas tapped the button so they could watch the scene frame by frame. “He’s talking on a phone.”
“Does that mean something to you?”
“He’s in the middle of tracking you down and takes the time to make a call?” Jonas swore. “I’m thinking it means he’s reporting back to someone else.”
When Jonas put it like that, she got it. The call meant a coordinated effort to track her. The guy in the forest, this one at the hospital. This had gone past checking up on her activities. Someone wanted to take her out and was employing a group of people to make it happen.
The chill inside her turned to a frantic shake. She had to concentrate to keep her teeth from rattling. “If you’re trying to scare me, it’s working.”
Jonas gave her a sideways glance. “I would have thought getting run down, threatened and chased would have done it.”
“Maybe the adrenaline is running out.”
“Then it’s time to leave.” He popped the disc out and stood up.
“I guess you’re still insisting I stay with you.”
“Would you honestly prefer to go it alone?” He held out a hand.
She took it and let him help her to her feet. After all, he wasn’t the only one who had been banged up and needed a break from the attacks. “No.”
“Happy we’ve heard the last of that argument.”
“I know I didn’t say that.”
Walt stuck his head in the room. “Jonas?”
“Hey.”
Jonas dropped her hand. “How’s Eckert?”
“Out cold.”
The need to defend her actions rose up and oozed through every part of her. “I didn’t have much of a choice. He went after Jonas.”
Walt raised an eyebrow. “So you hit the guy with an EKG machine.”
“It was handy.” Her skin tingled when Jonas spread a hand over her lower back with each finger pressing into her.
“She’s resourceful,” he said.
Walt’s gaze scanned the monitors and counters. “What are you doing in here?”
“Grabbing the tape.” Jonas held up the disc between two fingers.
“I would have gotten it.”
Jonas palmed the disc and slipped it in his back pocket. “Sure, but I wanted to check it out.”
Courtney listened to the staccato conversation. Walt acted the role of father and Jonas fought the interference with every step. With his stubbornness, she’d put money on Jonas winning the battle. It wasn’t a matter of youth. It had to do with determination. The man was all grit.
“Maybe you should take the rest of the day off. Let me check everything and report back.” Walt leaned against the door frame. “You guys have been through it, especially Jonas. Did the doctor clear you on the concussion?”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Never thought you couldn’t handle the job. That’s not my point here.” Walt smiled at her. “Can I take you somewhere, Ms. Allen?”
No way was she stepping into the middle of this testosterone contest. She’d already picked a side. “I’m going with Jonas.”
“Fine by me.” Jonas gave a gentle push to lead them to the door. “We’ll be at my office. Perfectly safe.”
“I’ll have my guy drive you.” Walt reached for his radio.
“Much appreciated.” Jonas nodded. “Before we head out, can you give me the rundown on the rest?”
“I have it under control. Eckert will be here overnight and I’ll have a man on his door. Rich is doing some background research.” Walt cleared his throat. “I asked him to do an extensive search on all angles then fill us both in.”
“Thanks,” Jonas said.
Walt hesitated, his gaze jumping between Jonas and Courtney. “I’ll let my guy know you’re ready to go.”
She watched the older man leave and smiled at Jonas’s cluelessness. Once they were alone she elbowed him. “He meant Rich is checking up on me.”
“Yeah, I got that from the angles part.” Jonas’s sudden stop made her miss a step.
“What are you—”
He put a hand across the door and blocked the exit before she could step out. “Tell me something. What exactly will Rich find out about you? During all that digging?”
She knew Jonas expected the discovery of reams of paper that would explain every little detail of her life. He probably figured he’d get the pieces and work them until they fit together and made sense.
But life didn’t work that way. Not hers, anyway. Nothing came easy, and words in a report couldn’t begin to capture the reality.
“If I tell you, you’ll spend the rest of the day interrogating me instead of resting.” As soon as the words left her mouth the last of her energy expired and exhaustion hit. The double attack threatened to drop her to her knees. “And, honestly, I have to lie down because my brain is jumbled.”
“You can’t leave the conversation there.” The corner of his mouth lifted. “Give me one hint and I promise not to ask you anything more today. I’ll let it drop.”
The silence stretched for almost a minute. She counted out the dragging seconds, weighing the pros and cons of taking the step she’d avoided for years. Once she did, running wouldn’t be an option. No way would Jonas hesitate long enough for her to escape.
He lowered his head until he had eye contact again. “Courtney?”
She exhaled every doubt. “You’ll find out I didn’t exist until ten years ago.”
His smile vanished. “What?”
“I think you heard me.”
He straightened up. “But—”
“You promised.”
He swore under his breath. “I’m sorry I made the deal.”
“In fairness, I tried to warn you.”
Chapter Eight
The next day Cade Willis sat in his rental car and stared across the street at the front door of a Craftsman bungalow. He’d come three thousand miles and taken almost ten years to get here.
Houses lined the quiet street, packed together with little room between them. He lived in a condo. Spent hours in a box with a row of windows on one side, only to leave and work in a bigger box.
But he wasn’t on duty now. It was just after nine in the morning. He’d flown from Virginia to Oregon for one reason, and his first attempt to get to her had failed. Cade didn’t know anything about Jonas Porter, but he would investigate. That was what he did. Researched, asked questions, studied the pieces and found answers. He’d been trained, but this was personal.
A woman, a little too old to be the right woman, blonde and curvy, walked up to the porch and used a key to open the front door. He glanced down to double-check the age-progressed photo in the file on the passenger seat. He flipped to the grainy one his investigator had taken last week.
He glanced up in time to see the unknown woman disappear inside the house. A long skirt and a sweater, short hair and a larger build. Yeah, definitely not the right woman.
He’d gathered hundreds of details about the woman he’d been tracking, many of which came from his memory. He’d been fifteen the first time he saw her and twenty the last time they lived in the same place. The years since passed with terrible slowness. That was what happened when you lived under a cloud, when people judged you and pointed.
In the years since it all fell apart, he’d pushed and struggled. He’d done everything to turn his life around, but the past ran just a foot or two behind him, waiting to lunge and tackle.
He tempered every commendation with the knowledge unfinished business lurked. He knew from experience hard work wasn’t always enough. Everything a man earned and accumulated, from his good name to the food in the refrigerator, could be taken away in an instant.
The person who threatened to do that to him had changed her name. Ann Peters faded away, leaving nothing behind to signal her existence except a series of newspaper articles and a few links at conspiracy-theory sites on the internet. She didn’t exist. Her social security number lay dormant. No bank accounts or credit cards. No paper trail at all.
He’d wanted confirmation. Needed to see if wild child Ann Courtney Peters had morphed into respected illustrator Courtney Allen. He admired reinvention, but he refused to live in the past alone.
She started this.
He would finish it.
* * *
JONAS PARKED THE POLICE CAR in the alley behind her street, just two houses down from hers. After a night of her sleeping on his office couch while he slept in the desk chair, he winced every time he moved. He’d actually hissed when he reached around to put on his seat belt after leaving the office.
Through it all, he’d kept his part of the deal and hadn’t asked a single question about her past. Didn’t even sneak onto the computer, though Courtney would bet what little cash she had on her that he’d wanted to.
Now he stared ahead, watching the drizzle from the sudden storm hit the windshield as he tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. She didn’t know what song played in his head because the inside of the car stayed silent except for the rhythmic swish of the wipers.
The quiet finally broke her. “Are we just going to sit here?”
Her insides jumped around, and she’d bargain with the devil for a shower at this point. Splashing in his office bathroom hadn’t done the trick.
Jonas’s frown deepened. “I think there’s someone in your house.”
“What?” She leaned down, trying to get a clear view of her back door from the passenger side of the car. “How can you know
that?”
“I saw a shadow.”
She glanced at him to make sure he wasn’t joking. The severe frown suggested not. “How can you see anything from this far away?”
He looked at her then. “You can’t?”
This qualified as one of the many conversations she’d wanted to avoid. Not that she spent hours worrying about her looks, because she didn’t, but her eye issues were a constant source of annoyance. She could sit bent over her drawing table for hours, not even twitch when her lower back cramped up and begged for mercy, but when her vision blurred she stopped. Eyestrain quickly switched to double vision, which led to balance issues.
She’d suffered from the problem since she was a kid. There was a fancy name for it that she’d long forgotten and a chance the condition could worsen. It ruled out airplane pilot and a few other career choices. Drawing likely should have been one of them, but she’d refused to give it up.
A child’s doodles became a source to release the pain of early adulthood and eventually her lifelong job. Illustrating books constituted nothing less than a passion now. The fact her love also paid the bills just made her one of those lucky people whose calling intersected with their career.
Unlucky in everything else, lucky in this—and she had no intention of throwing that away over a set of bum eyes.
She settled on telling Jonas the super-abbreviated version. “I wear glasses.”
“Since when?” He acted as if they’d known each other for years and she hid a big secret.
“Always. I wasn’t wearing my contacts when you arrived and had taken off my glasses to get the door, otherwise you’d know.”
“Why didn’t you wear the glasses to answer?”
That was not exactly the piece of information she thought he’d grab on to. “Just because.”
Through the bandage over his eye and the cut near his mouth, he smiled. “Just so you know, the whole ‘boys don’t make passes at girls who wear glasses’ thing is a lie.”
“Oh, right. You find women in glasses sexy, I guess.”
“Sure do.”
“Are you messing with me?”
“Not yet.”
Her stomach somersaulted. “Jonas—”
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