Читать книгу Fatal Charm - Aimee Thurlo - Страница 7

Lynn Ramos heard the screen door slam behind her as she walked outside onto the moonlit porch. She’d meant to adjust that annoying spring latch many times, but had never quite gotten around to it. Quickly, she glanced down at the soft bundle in her arms. The baby stirred, yawned without opening her eyes, then drifted back to sleep. Lynn smiled, relieved. Six-month-old Carmen could sleep through most anything.

Lynn drew her daughter closer, protecting her from the winter evening as she walked around the Bureau sedan to their own car. She fastened the baby into the car seat, then glanced back through the kitchen window. Tony was still on the phone. Everything in their lives always seemed to take a distant second to his career in the FBI. As usual, that had been the focus of their argument tonight.

Lynn drove down the narrow two-lane highway, tears streaming down her face. She wondered if Tony had even noticed she’d left. The thought that he might not have noticed cut deeply. She stared ahead stubbornly, turning onto the mountain road that led toward her sister’s house.

As she followed the sharp curve in the road, she heard something shift on the floor of the car. Lynn glanced down for an instant and saw a paper sack jutting out from beneath the front passenger’s seat. Without taking her eyes off the road, she reached down. As she picked it up, a small stuffed raccoon fell out of the sack, tumbling onto the seat beside her.

Lynn recognized the toy she’d meant to pick up for the baby. Her throat tightened as she realized Tony had made time to go by Toy Mart and buy it for Carmen. A rush of warmth swept over her, dissipating her anger. Tony’s dedication to his job was infuriating at times but, in her heart, she knew that he loved her and Carmen deeply.

Lynn took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Her hair-trigger temper had certainly been working overtime tonight. What on earth had she been thinking? She watched the snow flurries pile up on her windshield, then get swept to the side as the wipers kept up their steady rhythm. She should have never gone out on a night like this.

Hearing the soft gurgling coming from Carmen, she turned up the heater a click, making sure the car stayed warm enough for the baby.

“Okay, little girl.” She smiled, looking at her daughter in the rearview mirror. “Mom blew a gasket, as usual, but we’re going back home now.”

Lynn began searching for a place to turn the car around. Narrow shoulders plagued this mountain highway east of Santa Fe. She slowed down, pumping the brakes carefully on the icy road as she rounded a switchback curve, careful to avoid picking up more speed than was safe for this stretch of pavement.

Suddenly, out of the gloom ahead she saw a pair of blinding headlights coming straight at her. The driver was on the wrong side of the road!

Lynn pulled the wheel hard to the right, barely missing the other car as it shot by. She fought the steering wheel and brake, trying to bring her car back under control on the glaring ice covering the road.

Lynn screamed as the car skidded off the pavement and hurtled down the hillside into a dark abyss. Something smashed against the windshield, and she was instantly covered with chunks of glass. The car plunged into a steep ravine, flipping end over end.

As the car finally came to a stop, Lynn struggled to hold on to consciousness, but it was a losing battle. One by one, her senses began to fail. First, she couldn’t feel anything, not even the cold. Then silence enveloped her as if her ears were stuffed with cotton. As her sight gave way, surrounding her with a soupy blackness, she tried to reach out and touch the car and panicked as she realized her arm wouldn’t move.

Then, suddenly, the darkness lifted, and a sense of peace filled her. There was no reason to fear. Her child would be all right. Freed, she surrendered to the light.

* * *

FLASHLIGHT IN HAND, the solitary man staggered drunkenly down the snow-covered slope toward the car. What had he done? The cold wind stung his face, sobering him up.

Though he didn’t want to climb down into the arroyo, something compelled him to keep going. He slowed down, trying to stay on his feet, but the going was icy and rough, and he kept slipping and falling.

If there really was a hell, he was sure the Almighty had reserved a special spot for him. He should never have taken that first drink tonight, much less the fourth. Or was it fifth? He knew better. But it was too late to think about that now. He had to concentrate on damage control.

Maybe there was still a way for him to get out of this mess without losing everything. One thing was clear, there was no way he could report the accident. The police would smell the whiskey on his breath three miles away. They’d jail him, and he’d be ruined.

As a sliver of moonlight edged out from behind the clouds, he saw the car clearly for the first time. Dear God, nobody could have survived that! It was right side up, but the top was caved in like a soda can that had been stomped by a heavy boot.

He turned around, ready to climb back out, when he heard a soft mewling cry. A cat? He glanced around, trying to clear his thinking, but his thoughts seemed strangled by the thick cobwebs the liquor had left behind. He stood motionless and listened, still not wanting to approach the car. If the driver, by some miracle, was still alive, he’d phone in and report the accident anonymously.

Hearing the soft cry again, he forced himself to go closer to the wreck. The body of the driver was slumped to the right of the steering wheel at an odd angle. One look told him she was dead.

His attention shifted as he heard the cry again. It was coming from the back seat. Aiming the flashlight beam, he saw an infant in a car seat. An embroidered blanket lay on the floor beside her. The child’s pink-and-white sleeper was covered with tiny cubes of glass, but she appeared unharmed, except for a few slight scratches on her face.

His gut tightened. This was the last thing he needed. Unless he got the kid out of there, she wouldn’t have a chance. The cold would finish what the accident had started. He went to the rear door, grabbed the handle with both gloved hands, and pulled hard. His feet slipped on the frozen ground, sending him sprawling backward. He fell hard into the snow.

All he wanted to do was get out of this place, but he couldn’t leave the baby. He staggered back to the door and stared at the child inside. The baby’s gaze seemed focused on the beam of his flashlight, and strangely enough, she’d stopped crying.

He glanced around. No help was in sight; it was up to him. The driver was dead, and the snow was intensifying. It would be hours before help could arrive. What the hell was he going to do?

Almost as if guessing his thoughts, the baby reached out with one tiny hand, her fingers opening and closing, seeking contact. He watched her, avoiding her touch, trying to decide on a course of action. As if suddenly impatient, the baby let out a long wail.

“Shut up, kid.” He held his hands over his ears. His head felt as if it were exploding, and the high-pitched crying was torture. Why did this have to happen to him?

Then abruptly the child stopped crying and stared at him, expressionless. That scared him into action. He pulled at the broken window and managed to break away most of the remaining glass. As he brushed the baby’s face with one finger, he realized the child was ice-cold. Leaning through the opening, he quickly freed her from the car seat.

The infant made a soft, gurgling sound and then smiled.

“You’re a smart little cookie, aren’t you?” he muttered, picking her up and maneuvering her through the window.

The child’s eyes closed, but he knew she’d be okay. All she needed right now was to get warm. The heater in his car would take care of the problem. His gaze drifted to the body of the woman behind the wheel. He couldn’t help her, but he’d take care of her baby. He owed her that much.

He reached into the car one last time for the baby’s blanket and wrapped it around her. Then he placed the child inside the folds of his jacket and began to plow back up the hill, ignoring the torrent of snow stinging his eyes. There was only one way for him to protect himself and still keep the kid safe. He knew exactly what to do, and he would do it.