Lance dropped into his chair, leaned back and clasped his hands behind his head. “I have plenty of cash to revitalize the place. Once I do, I’ll have a monopoly on lodging establishments along the highway.” He looked happy. Or at least that’s what he wanted them to think, but something about his behavior put Emily on alert.
“You’ll never have that monopoly,” Emily said. “I’d rather bulldoze the place down than let you take over and make it a clone of your other properties.”
She stormed out, her emotions roiling.
The minute they sat in the car, Archer faced her. “I’m sorry if I overstepped my boundaries in there. I know you don’t like it when I interfere, but it’s instinct with me.”
“Let’s just get going, okay?” she said, her thoughts still on Lance. “I don’t want to sit here a minute longer.”
Archer got them on the road. Emily pushed Lance from her mind and stared out the window at the familiar drive. They reached the road leading to the B and B, and a movement in the woods on the side of the road caught her attention.
She shot up.
“What is it?” Archer asked, alternating his gaze with watching the road and scanning the area.
“I thought I saw someone, but I guess I was wrong. Was likely just a branch.” She sat back and waited for her heart to stop pounding.
A loud crack snapped through the air.
“Gunshot,” Archer shouted. “Get down.”
A bullet? Really?
Before she could process it, an explosion sounded from under the car.
“He hit the tire,” Archer said. “Blew it out.”
The vehicle fishtailed and swung wildly. Emily sat up to look as the car shot across the road, racing toward a steep ravine.
She screamed, and when the crash appeared imminent, she braced herself to shoot over the edge and die.
* * *
Archer’s instincts told him to reach out and protect Emily, but he needed to keep both hands on the wheel to fight the blowout. He battled hard, but he couldn’t gain control.
They plunged into a steep ravine, racing over scrub and ferns. Bumping over ruts.
The right tire hit hard, sending the vehicle airborne. His body slammed back against the seat, then his air bag exploded, curling over the wheel. The cloth bag slapped him aside the head, and he felt like his brain was a soccer ball at a World Cup match.
The car rolled. Tipping. Falling.
He fired a quick look at Emily. Her bag had deployed, too, and he couldn’t see her.
“Hold on, honey,” he rasped and braced himself for a hard landing.
He tried to reach for her, to protect her, while keeping his wits about him as the car somersaulted as if in slow motion. Over once. Over again. And again.
They came to land on the roof, the impact jarring him in his seat, his seat belt ripping into his chest. The windshield and side windows folded into catacombs of safety glass, and the vehicle compacted as if a big salvage yard crusher had them in its jaws.
He held his breath and waited for it to squeeze the life out of him. Out of them. The metal frame groaned but held and retained most of its shape.
He punched the bag from his face and stared at Emily. She was still hidden behind her bag. His chest went tight and realization hit him like a fist to the chest. He’d been so worried about letting Emily into his life that he’d missed the fact that he’d already come to care for her.
“Emily, are you all right?” he called out and recognized the panic in his voice as he clawed at the bag in her face.
“Yes,” she said, her voice small and terrified.
He freed her from the fabric, his heart soaring when he confirmed that she was indeed alive and not seeming worse for wear. He gently cupped the side of her face, which was blistering red from the air bag. “Are you hurt?”
She stared blankly ahead. “My right leg hurts a bit. And my head.”
After having just suffered a concussion, the force of the jarring air bag could put her at greater risk for a serious head injury. He took a moment to run an assessment of his own injuries to be sure he could help her down without further impact to her head. He also checked his sidearm and then listened for anyone approaching the vehicle.
“Let me call this in, get out of my belt, and then I’ll come help you.”
He made the call to 911 and notified Jake, then prepared to move. He heard Emily shift. “I know you can do this on your own, but please. Please, honey. Let me help you.”
“Okay.” Her voice was still small and shallow.
He mentally prepared himself to release his belt and land on the crushed roof. He didn’t feel any injuries now, but shock could be masking them and a drop to the roof might be the first indication. Too bad. He was going to get out and help Emily no matter what.
He reclined his seat so he’d fall into a prone position, unclipped the belt and mitigated the impact with his hands.
Pain radiated up his arms, but he ignored it and shimmied to release his legs and then kick out the remaining window glass. He maneuvered around until he could slip out the window, then stood, taking a look at the scrub to get his bearings and making a cautious search for the shooter.
A wave of dizziness assaulted him from being upside down, but he ignored it and moved around the vehicle. He ripped off his shirt and wrapped it around his arm to clear the glass from the passenger window while keeping his senses tuned to the area in case of another attack.
Emily dangled from her belt, her legs wedged up under the dash.
“I’m going to crawl in under you before you release the belt,” he said. “So I can lessen the impact when you fall and you won’t bang your head again.”
He didn’t wait for her response but eased his upper body inside the car. A shard of metal cut into his back and sticky oozing blood seeped through his shirt, but he rolled and knocked the metal away with a fist and then peered up at Emily. He ran his gaze over her body, checking for blood. Her arm had sustained minor cuts, but no major bleeds.
Thank You, Lord!
He quickly assessed the situation, then smiled to help her relax. “You didn’t have to go to such extreme lengths to get this close to me.”
She smiled wanly, worrying him about her state of mind. It would probably be better for her health to leave her in the car and go for help so a medic could restrain her head, but whoever fired that gun could end her life while he was gone. He wouldn’t let that happen.
“Okay, time to move. First I’ll recline your seat so you don’t jackknife and injure your legs.” He wiggled in farther so he was centered under her upper body and braced his hands under her shoulders. “When you click the belt you’re going to free-fall onto me, but I’ll control the descent of your upper body.”
“I could hurt you.”
“If a little bit of a thing like you could hurt me by falling on me, I’m in the wrong line of work.” He chuckled to elicit a smile from her, but all he received was a hint of one.
“On three, okay?”
She nodded, then winced in pain.
“One. Two. Three.”
The click of her belt echoed through the car. The full weight of her body strained his arms, but he controlled her free fall. He slowly, very slowly lowered her down, their eyes meeting and holding. He saw the fear race across her eyes, then evaporate and heat up with awareness of him. Maybe reacting to the same look in his eyes.
Was she thinking the same thing? They could have died in the crash and would never have had a chance to get to know each other.
He felt something twang in his heart. An ache. A physical ache. Protectiveness mixed with a certainty that getting to know this woman was worth any pain or potential hurt he might feel.
Her eyes locked on his for a moment before she lowered her head
and kissed him.
At the touch of her lips, fire raced through his body. He slid his fingers into her silky hair to draw her closer. To deepen the kiss. For a moment, he was aware of only her. Of the softness of her lips. Of the smell of her perfume. And then, a branch snapping outside had him ripping free.
He caught a flash of movement in the scrub. He didn’t think, but rolled their bodies so he lay on top, protecting her. She didn’t speak, just looked up at him. He shifted so he could see out the window. Boots, like the Nike’s from the river footprint, and jean-clad legs whispered past them. He drew his weapon and aimed. The man kept moving.
“We have to take cover,” he whispered. “I’ll get out first.”
He eased away, making sure to keep his body between her and the man. Archer slipped out silently and helped her down.
“Not a sound,” he told her and gestured at a large tree where they could take cover.
He put her at his side, away from danger, and they slipped behind the tree. He tracked the man’s movements. Archer wanted to go after the guy, but he couldn’t leave Emily alone.
“You good to move at a quick clip...maybe run so we can tail this guy?” he whispered.
She nodded.
“Stay behind me. Hook your fingers into my belt and don’t let go. That way, I won’t have to look back to see if you’re with me and can keep my focus on the guy. Okay?” He looked into her eyes to judge her readiness for this move.
She peered back at him, the strong woman he’d come to care for replacing the terrified woman in the car. “Okay.”
He gave her a quick kiss on the forehead, then turned and waited until she took a firm hold on his belt before setting off through the thick grass and brush. He moved stealthily to keep from alerting the guy, and he was thankful that she was able to move quietly, too. They walked for a mile, when the man suddenly took off running. His footfalls thudded hard as branches snapped.
He’d made them.
Archer couldn’t run with Emily attached to his belt so he stepped up his speed as fast as possible with her remaining in the protected position. He’d rather lose the guy than risk her life.
They climbed steadily upward, heading toward the road. The weight on his belt tightened. Emily was tiring. He slowed, but kept them moving forward.
Archer reached the top of the incline. Paused behind a tree and peered down the road. He caught a flash of a black pickup whizzing away.
“Taylor had a fleet of black trucks outside his office,” he said.
“But we just left him.”
“Any way he could get ahead of us?”
She panted from the hike then, gained a breath. “If he knows the old logging roads around here, he could have taken them and beaten us here.”
“Then we best get Carothers or Jake to haul Taylor in for questioning,” he said. “What about Fannon? You know what he drives?”
“I’ve seen him in a white van with his company logo on it.”
“Sounds like a business vehicle. He likely has a personal vehicle, as well. I’ll check DMV records after we talk with Carothers.”
“I’m scared, Archer.”
He snaked an arm around her shoulder. “I’m here for you.”
“And I appreciate that, but...”
“But what?” he asked, narrowing his eyes. “You don’t think I can protect you?”
“You’re good at your job. I’ve seen that, but the guy driving that truck had to know that there was a good chance we’d die in the crash. Doesn’t that mean he’d be willing to use the gun on me, too?”
“Do you want me to tell you what I really think?” Archer asked quietly.
“Yes, of course.”
“I doubt that the shooter was trying to cause a blowout. There are too many factors he can’t control. Like where the tire is pierced and the heat of the tire. Also the age of the tire can be a factor. Bottom line is he couldn’t be sure his shot would work or just cause a leak in the tire.”
“Unless he was an amateur and didn’t know any of those things,” she mused.
“You’re right. We’re most likely dealing with an amateur, but honestly—” he reluctantly met her gaze, hating what he was about to say “—the incidents have been escalating, and I’m more likely to believe he’s a bad shot and that bullet was actually meant for you.”
SEVENTEEN
Emily had been under house arrest all day, so she took the time to do paperwork while Carothers and Jake continued to try to locate the shooter. Archer sat across from her, staring at his laptop. House arrest was Archer’s plan to protect her. She was to remain inside at all times and away from windows. And whenever possible, under his watchful gaze. The gunshot terrified her, and she gladly listened to him.
Not that he was paying much attention to her right now. He kept his focus on his laptop. Unfortunately, that gave her time to watch him unobserved and think about the latest kiss. She didn’t know what possessed her to kiss him. Maybe it was the fear of dying and the relief of surviving. But she was over that now, and if she was honest with herself, she had to admit that she’d gladly cross the room right now and kiss him again. And again.
He’d enjoyed the kiss, too. That wasn’t a secret and she suspected he’d gladly repeat it. Not good. Not when she was confined to the house with him.
The only way she could make sure that it didn’t happen again was to tell him that the kiss was a knee-jerk reaction to the stress and that it meant nothing. Neither did the first one. After all, she hoped that was all it was.
The moment he looked up, she said, “I need to talk to you about what happened earlier.” The words tumbled out of her mouth, as she wanted to get this over with.
He arched a brow, his expression unreadable. “I assume you mean when you kissed me.”
“Yeah, that,” she said. “I shouldn’t have done it, and I don’t want you to read too much into it. I was upset. You comforted me. I kissed you in the moment as a response to your care and consideration.”
He sat silently watching her. She could almost see thoughts running through his brain like the scroll on the bottom of a TV news program.
“I mean, we’re going to be together in the house for who knows how long and I want to make sure we’re on the same page here and it doesn’t happen again.”
He frowned, then gave a firm nod. “I understand. Let’s forget it ever happened.”
Surprised at his easy acquiescence, she sat back, feeling oddly disappointed. She didn’t know what she expected him to say, but maybe she’d hoped he would tell her the kiss had meant a great deal to him. She’d kissed him in the moment as she’d said, but her reaction to his response told her it ran deeper than she thought.
So what? Even if she could now see that having a man in her life might be a blessing, finding a way to care for and support Birdie had to come before anything else.
Deftly switching gears, Archer tapped his computer. “I was just about to pull up Fannon’s DMV record to see if he drives a black truck.”
“Then by all means finish it and tell me what you find.”
He clicked the mouse a few times and his gaze sharpened. “Like you said...he has a white Ford van registered to his electrical business. But he has another vehicle, too. He drives a Ford F150 pickup.” He looked up from the computer. “Color...black.”
“Stan ran us off the road. Really?”
“There’s a good likelihood. Him or Taylor. We’ll just have to wait for forensics to process the bullet and hopefully it will match a weapon owned by one of these men.” Archer closed his laptop and pushed back from the desk. “But, I also need to mention that the truck we saw might not have anything to do with the accident. The shooter could have already departed in another vehicle.”
“But you think it was Stan or Lance, right?
”
“Yeah. I do. ”
“Dinner’s ready,” Darcie called from the hallway.
Archer came to his feet. “We should go eat.”
“How can you think about eating at a time like this?”
He smiled, but it was halfhearted. “If you’ve ever had Darcie’s roast beef and vegetables you’d understand.”
When she and Archer were running for their lives, then giving their statements to Carothers, Darcie had held down the home fort and put a beef roast with onions, carrots and potatoes in the oven.
Emily doubted she’d be able to eat much, but she’d join them so she could spend time with Birdie. She trailed him into the dining room. As they sat down, the front door opened and Archer spun.
Jake stepped into the foyer and sniffed, a broad smile spreading across his face. He really was a handsome man. He was big and bulky while Archer was trim. At first, she hadn’t recognized Archer’s strength. He might look lean, but he was packed with muscle. And when the shot was fired and his arms had come around her? She’d felt safe. Really and truly safe. Much like the way she’d felt when she moved in with Birdie. Though, there was more with Archer. Way more. And it was time for her to admit it.
Didn’t mean she had to do anything about it, but it was there. She cared about him and for the first time in her life, she could see the real value of a relationship.
Jake stepped into the dining room. “Am I too late?”
“No, you’re just on time,” Darcie said.
“Here, take my place. I’ll get another plate for you.” Emily grabbed another place setting from the kitchen and when she’d returned, they’d added another chair by Birdie so Emily took that seat.
“Do you want me to update you on my visit with Fannon now or wait until after dinner?” Jake asked from the end of the table.
“Now,” Emily said, knowing he couldn’t ruin her appetite any more that it already was.
“First, I talked with Carothers. While waiting for the confirmation of Fannon’s alibi, Carothers talked to Fannon’s neighbor, who remembers Fannon going out the night of the fire. Said Fannon left around eight, but he doesn’t know what time he came home.”
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