Manhunt

by Janet Evanovich

  “Are you all right?” Alex set a goblet of iced tea in front of Casey. “You look a little strange.”

  “It’s the panties—” His face colored. “I mean, it’s the casserole. I didn’t expect you to go to all this trouble.”

  Alex sat opposite him and spread her napkin on her lap. “We made a deal. Room and board in exchange for my housewifely services.”

  Casey’s fork stopped midway to his mouth.

  “No need to get alarmed. It’s simply an expression.” She spooned some casserole onto her plate. “And of course, it’s not to be confused with conjugal privileges. I know you’ll be relieved at that. We’re just two good friends sharing a house for a while, aren’t we? Personally, I like it. It’s comfy, you know? Oh, and by the way, I’m going to help Bubba oil his harnesses tonight. I shouldn’t be too late.”

  Casey’s grip tightened on his fork. He stuffed a chunk of meat into his mouth and chewed vigorously.

  Five hours later, Casey heard Alex stomping the snow off her boots on the deck and quickly buried his nose in the mystery he was reading. He’d been on page fifty-seven for two hours and didn’t have a clue what it said.

  Last night it had been waxing skis until ten, and this night it had been oiling harnesses until eleven. Not that it was any of his business. If she was interested in Bubba Johanssen, then good for her. Let Johanssen be left high and dry when she took off. Let Johanssen mail his kid’s Christmas presents to New Jersey. He should be happy she’d found someone else, Casey told himself. But he wasn’t happy; he was damned furious.

  She entered, and he saw she was smiling again. “Had a good time?” he asked tersely.

  Alex hung her jacket on the wall and stepped out of her boots. “The best! I got to feed the dogs tonight. I’m going back tomorrow, and Bubba’s going to let me drive his four-dog racing team.” She tweaked Casey’s nose, said good night, and crawled into her tent.

  It was enough to drive him nuts.

  The moon was high in the sky when Bubba parked his truck in Casey’s driveway and walked Alex to the front door. “What you really want to look for in a sled dog is good feet,” he said. “The pads have to be tough.”

  Casey opened the door even before they reached it and pulled Alex inside. “It’s twelvefifteen,” he said. “Did you know that?”

  Alex’s cheeks were flushed, her eyes still glowing from the evening’s sport. “Casey, I drove the racing team tonight, and I didn’t tip over once. Bubba said I was a natural.”

  “I’ll just bet he did,” Casey muttered, glowering at Bubba.

  Bubba stuffed his hands into his pockets and grinned. “He sure is cranky,” he said to Alex. “You have a curfew or something?”

  “He’s tired,” Alex said. “It’s past his bedtime.”

  “Well, hell, Casey, you don’t have to stay up on our account.” Bubba slung his arm around Alex’s shoulders. “Alex is going to make me some cocoa, and I’m going to tell her all about my breeding potential.”

  “First Alaskans, then musk-ox, now this half-baked musher… that does it,” Casey said through clenched teeth. “You can take your breeding potential and stick it up your—” Smack! Casey punched Bubba in the nose.

  Bubba shook his head to clear it, uttered an expletive and grabbed Casey by the neck. In an instant they were rolling on the carpet and throwing punches.

  Alex couldn’t believe her eyes. It was the first real fistfight she’d ever seen.

  “Stop it!” she shouted. “Stop it this instant!”

  She attempted to grab Bubba and pull him away but was batted off like a fly and sent sprawling on the floor. Blood spurted from Bubba’s nose; some trickled from a cut over Casey’s eye. It would have been horrible and frightening if it hadn’t been so ridiculous and childish.

  “It took me two hours to get this living room in order,” she told the brawling men, “and now you’re getting blood all over my clean carpet.” Bubba gave Casey a knee to the groin, and Casey poked his finger in Bubba’s eye.

  “That’s it,” Alex said, stomping off to the bedroom. She drew a line across her throat. “I’ve had it up to here with this.”

  She returned with Casey’s loaded .44 Magnum. She pointed the gun at the ceiling and squeezed the trigger. A loud bang resounded throughout the house. The kick from the gun sent Alex to her knees, and a large chunk of plaster dropped onto Casey’s head. The men stopped fighting and stared at Alex.

  “Out,” she said to Bubba. “Out, out, out!” She took a plastic bag from a kitchen drawer, filled it with snow from the deck, and handed it to him. “I hope your nose isn’t broken, but if it is, Casey will be happy to pay all your medical expenses.”

  Casey stood up and dusted plaster out of his hair. “Just don’t expect me to pay maternity.”

  Bubba took the snow from Alex and hurried to the door. “He’s crazy,” he said. “You’re living with a crazy person.”

  “He’s just confused,” Alex told Bubba. “He’s been under a lot of strain lately.”

  She found Casey in the bathroom, staring at his puffy eye. “That was the most disgusting display of childish behavior I’ve ever seen,” Alex said to Casey’s reflection. “What did you think you were doing?”

  “I don’t know,” Casey said, his voice churlish. “I’m just confused, and I’ve been under a lot of strain lately.”

  “You need more sleep.”

  “Hah! Who’s fault is that? How am I supposed to get my sleep when you’re off running around the countryside with Bubba discussing breeding techniques?”

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were jealous.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Anyway, we were talking about breeding techniques in dogs,” Alex said.

  “I knew that.”

  “It’s important to match up the right dogs so you get good feet and stuff.” Alex soaked a washcloth and dabbed at the eye. “You’re lucky this doesn’t need stitches.”

  “Do you realize since the first moment I saw you I’ve been a bloody mess? I’ve been knocked unconscious, had my nose bashed, my eye gashed. How long are you going to be living here? Maybe I should take out more medical insurance.”

  Alex taped a Band-Aid across the cut. Better get family coverage, she thought with a tight smile, I’m here to stay.

  She turned on her heel and exited the bathroom. “I’m tired,” she announced. “I’m going to bed. Good night.”

  She shut off every light in the kitchen and living room, crawled into her tent, and turned on a lamp.

  Casey stood in the hall, rooted to the spot, watching Alex’s silhouette. She pulled off her sweater and slowly removed her bra. Then she stretched and arched her back like a satisfied cat. She removed socks and writhed out of jeans and long johns. Casey held his breath while panties were discarded and she moved to her hands and knees to smooth out a wrinkle in the sleeping bag.

  Casey felt the blood hot in his veins. He wondered if the striptease had been purposely done for him, the thought only increasing his anger and frustration. He moved toward the tent and stopped, swearing softly. He was out of control, and he was not in a gentle mood.

  The light snapped off in the tent, and Alex rustled in the sleeping bag.

  “Good grief!” Casey said, and in one swift movement he unzipped the tent’s front flap and pulled Alex in her sleeping bag out of the tent.

  “Always sleep in the nude?” he asked.

  Her eyes flew open, and she was startled when she suddenly found herself face-to-face with Casey. She felt her heart beating in her throat, the air trapped in her lungs. She licked dry lips and tried to speak, but no words came out. She’d wanted to tease him. She knew he’d been watching. But she hadn’t expected this!

  His hand tore at the bag’s zipper, leaving Alex fully exposed. Moonlight poured through the large southward windows, spilling over her. In her mind, they were married and had been from the very beginning. She smiled—because she was pleased with her life, pleas
ed with her newfound boldness and confidence, and pleased with her ability to love.

  It was the smile that was Casey’s undoing. It was a Mona Lisa smile—enigmatic, satisfied, warm, womanly. He was undone. His goose was cooked. His clock was cleaned. He was beyond help, he thought. He was besotted. He wrapped her in his arms and carried her to his bed, where their bodies entwined.

  Casey was quiet at the breakfast table, wrestling with private thoughts. Across from him Alex was also lost in contemplation, her silence feeding his bewilderment. The magic of the evening had disappeared with the moonlight, Casey regretfully concluded, and now they were left with reality in bright sunlight.

  What was the reality? That all his elaborate plans to remove her from his life had gone awry, and he was back at square one. That they had made beautiful love but hadn’t solved a single problem. He pushed his breakfast aside, slopping coffee onto the saucer.

  “This isn’t going to work,” he said. “You’re going to have to leave. Today.”

  Alex looked up in surprise. “I have nowhere to go.”

  “Maybe you should go home… to New Jersey.” He pushed away from the table and took a set of keys from the kitchen counter. “I’m going in to the office. I’d appreciate it if you would clear out before I get back.”

  Alex looked at him calmly. “You’ll regret my leaving. You’ll miss me.”

  Casey put on his parka. “I know that. I’ll just have to learn to live with it.”

  At four o’clock Casey came home to a familiar scene. Alex’s little car was in his driveway, loaded with packing boxes. He’d finally succeeded. She was leaving. There was no elation in the victory, only bitter disappointment as he realized that deep down inside he’d wanted her to fight to stay.

  With a small shock he acknowledged that he’d been setting up tests for her, forcing her to prove herself to him. He’d made her face one too many tests, he thought sadly, kicking the snow from his boots before entering the house. He stood with his hands in his pockets, silently watching her.

  The silence grated on her. She’d been fuming all day about his insistence that she leave. Just once she’d like to spend the night with this man and wake up to a doting lover.

  “Nothing to say?” she asked.

  He had everything to say, but it was stuck inside him, and he was scared to death to let it out.

  “Well, I have something to say. I’m not as dumb as you think. I know you brought Harry up here to get me off your damn mountain.”

  He looked surprised for a moment, then his face hardened. “It was for your own good.”

  “Well, thank you, but don’t do me any favors. I can take care of myself.”

  “Get serious. You burned down your outhouse.”

  “Big deal. I make one little mistake, and you take it upon yourself to run me off your mountain.”

  “One little mistake?” Casey shouted. “Do you know what I found this morning? A gray hair. It’s from worrying about you. And I’m probably getting an ulcer. My stomach is a mess.”

  “Your stomach is a mess from eating fast food. Why don’t you stop worrying about me and start worrying about yourself. If you don’t watch your step, you’re going to end up like Andy and Harry, living here alone, rattling around in a house filled with pizza cartons, styrofoam burger boxes, and crushed beer cans.”

  Alex snapped a leash onto Bruno’s collar and pushed past Casey, not remembering she was in her stockinged feet until she was standing ankle deep in snow on the deck. She retrieved her boots, stuffed her wet feet into them, and hauled Bruno into the little car. She’d like nothing better than to stay and argue with Casey. She was in the mood for a good shouting match, but she had no time, so she threw him one last haughty look and took off down the hill, recklessly fishtailing on the slippery road.

  She was going to kill herself, Casey decided. She drove like a maniac. She would undoubtedly get herself into an accident, then he’d have to rescue her, just like always. A smile quirked the corners of his mouth because he knew he’d never really rescued her. She wasn’t exactly the frail, helpless type, he thought, getting into his car and carefully following her down the driveway. He found her a quarter mile from the road, tapping her foot on the packed snow, glaring at her car buried nose first in a drift.

  “Need some help?” Casey asked.

  “No.”

  Casey let the Bronco inch away.

  “Wait!” Alex shouted. “I need help. I need a ride into town.”

  Casey waded through the snow and retrieved the boxes, packing them into the back of his car. Bruno and Alex slid onto the seat next to Casey.

  “Where are we going?” Casey asked.

  “To the store… and then to the airport.”

  It was a silent drive to College. It was the second time in five years that Casey had lost someone he desperately loved. First his son, and now Alex. It was worse this time because he knew what was ahead. He already knew about the quiet wanting and the emptiness. He already knew he’d never forget her. The pain wouldn’t stab at him so sharply after a while; it would fade to a dull ache, but it would never completely disappear.

  Alex directed Casey to unload the boxes at the store. She handed Bruno’s leash over to Andy and glanced at her watch.

  Casey caught the gesture. “What time does your plane leave?”

  “Seven.”

  His answer was terse. “We can make it.”

  Alex closed her eyes and relaxed while he drove. She went over a mental checklist in her mind. Her small suitcase was in the back, plane reservations were in her shoulder bag, Andy was caring for Bruno. She was jolted against her seat belt when Casey pulled the car to the shoulder and screeched to a stop.

  “Dammit, I never figured you for a quitter,” he said. His voice was harsh and his eyes were icy and narrowed. “How could you work so hard to make something livable and then give it up just like that?” He snapped his fingers.

  “Are you talking about my cabin?”

  “Your cabin, your store, your whole life. Why are you going back to New Jersey? Why the hell are you going back to the Oreo cookies and one percent milk? I thought you hated all that?”

  Alex opened her mouth to speak, but he interrupted. “Listen, so you trashed your outhouse. It could have happened to anyone.”

  “I thought you wanted me to leave.”

  Casey sighed wearily. “I don’t know what I wanted. I was scared.”

  “What about now? Do you know what you want now?”

  “I want you. Forever and ever. You think that plane to New Jersey has room for one more passenger? I know this sounds dumb, but I love you more than Alaska. If you want to live someplace else, I’m ready to move.”

  “I don’t want to live anyplace else. I love Alaska. And I’m not going to New Jersey.”

  A muscle quivered at his jaw. “Where are you going?”

  “I have an appointment in San Francisco. I’m going to get—”

  “Oh, man,” he said, “you’re not going to get pregnant, are you?”

  Alex rolled her eyes. “No, I’m not going to get pregnant. I’m going to get my hair done.”

  Casey leaned back and stared at her. “Let me get this straight. You’re going to San Francisco for a haircut?”

  “It’s important to get a good cut. You don’t think I’d let just anyone do my hair.” She gave him a smug, sideways glance. “It’s a treat. I sold a seven-hundred-dollar rifle to Gordon Newfarmer this week in exchange for my oatmeal cookie recipe! I perfected it while I was living in your house, using your stove. Actually, he needed the rifle and didn’t really care about the cookie recipe, but he didn’t want to break with tradition. The men have come to enjoy Andy’s barter system.”

  “What about those boxes you left with Andy to take to the post office?”

  “They’re packed with clothes I’ll never use up here. I’m giving them to charity.”

  Casey slid his hand around her neck and pulled her to him. “You tricked me. I t
hought you were leaving Alaska.”

  “Not me. I’m going to hang in here and try my luck at fishing.”

  He lay his hand on her thigh. “I’m going to keep you happy. If you don’t like fishing, I’ll find other activities to keep you busy.” His hand inched higher.

  “Mmmmmm,” Alex purred. She knew she’d like those other activities.

  “And no more talk about Bubba’s breeding potential and inseminated babies.”

  “But Bubba’s breeding potential is important to me. Casey, I love the feeling of flying along behind a pack of huskies. I’m buying his four-dog racing team. And in the spring I get first pick of his lead dog’s litter.”

  Casey looked at her sideways. “You mean you were actually oiling harnesses the other night?”

  “What did you think we were doing?”

  “I, uh, I thought maybe you were interested in Bubba’s husband and fatherhood potential.”

  Alex smiled and snuggled into Casey. “I’m only interested in one man’s husband and fatherhood potential. And I’m not interested in any exotic alternatives to creating a family.”

  “We’re going to make babies the old-fashioned way,” Casey said. “Will you marry me?”

  “Will you promise to pick up after yourself?”

  “No, but I’ll hire a cleaning lady.”

  Alex stuck her hand out. “Deal.”

  “Deal,” Casey murmured, pulling her close to him for a kiss that was achingly sweet and fiercely binding.

  Books by Janet Evanovich

  Metro Girl

  Manhunt

  Back to the Bedroom

  Love Overboard

  The Rocky Road to Romance

  One for the Money

  Two for the Dough

  Three to Get Deadly

  Four to Score

  High Five

  Hot Six

  Seven Up

  Hard Eight

  Visions of Sugar Plums

  To the Nines