Читать книгу Rock-A-Bye Rescue - Karen Whiddon - Страница 16

Chapter 5

The road was slick. Really slick. Wayne already knew that, thanks to the transport van crash, but keeping the piece-of-crap SUV he’d hot-wired on the road was harder than he’d imagined. He’d picked the SUV thinking it would have four-wheel drive, that it would handle the icy roads better, but whoever once owned this rattletrap had done as lousy of a job maintaining it mechanically as he had with the exterior. The gears stuck and wouldn’t shift into four-wheel drive and the steering was so loose, he could jerk the wheel a good six inches left or right before the damn SUV responded. He’d lose the SUV and steal something else if there was another car around. But he’d already reached the outskirts of Collins Ridge and was headed up into the foothills. Nothing out here but forests, wild animals and the sleet-crusted highway.

Wayne set his jaw and tightened his grip on the steering wheel as the tires slipped again. Kent had trusted him to take care of Eve. To humanely end his niece’s life. To save her from the indignity of foster care, the blind dictates of bureaucracy and a life under the tyranny of misguided government drones.

The idea of killing a baby, his own niece, didn’t sit well with him, but he saw Kent’s reasoning. And his first duty was to his brother. He had his orders, and he’d carry them out. What’s more, he’d take down anyone who tried to stop him, too. For instance, this Lila Greene woman who’d taken Eve. Was she just in the foster system for the check, like his foster mothers had been? Would she stand aside when threatened and let him take Eve with him or would she put up a fight? If she tried to stop him, he’d shoot her.

He had no problem with that. Funny, though, that any show of actually caring about her charge was exactly what would get the lady killed. Wayne didn’t dwell on the irony long. He needed to focus on his driving. The sooner he did his job, the sooner he could meet up with Kent and they could disappear. They’d set up a compound in another state with new names and build a new family. The Pitts brothers would not be shoved in a box or ruled by any government. They would remain free, follow The Truth and The Sword would rise again.

* * *

“I gotta tell you, Lila,” he said as she turned to face him, “listening to your head is fine most of the time, but I’ve done tours with too many young guys who died with regrets.” He moved closer, and she would have backed away from his touch but her legs bumped the edge of her coffee table. Without pushing past him or climbing backward over the furniture, she was trapped.

“The girl they should have married before being deployed, the apology they never gave their dad, the risk they should have taken in business. Heads are good for some things, but don’t let it talk you into missing something you’ll always regret losing.”

Lila closed her eyes. It was so hard to think straight when she looked into Dean’s dark eyes.

“I swear to you, Lila. I will do everything in my power to keep you and Eve safe.”

She drew a lungful of oxygen to fight the dizzying effects of his nearness. “Even be honest with me? Can you do that?” She opened her eyes again to read his reaction to her boldness.

He hesitated, his gaze narrowing slightly. “Honesty, huh?”

“Is that a difficult concept for you?” She tried to keep a stern tone, letting him know she wouldn’t be trifled with, but her voice cracked when she met the mesmerizing heat in his eyes.

“Okay, how’s this for honesty? I’ve had a thing for you since I was fifteen. I’ve always thought you were beautiful. Sexy. Intriguing.” His hand skimmed her cheek, and he leaned in for a kiss. “I wanted you back then, but I knew you were a good girl. I figured you wouldn’t want someone with my reputation, so I never asked you out. That’s my regret, and I don’t want to repeat it.”

She turned her cheek to him, struggling for a steady breath and her reasoning powers. “As I recall—” she had to pause and clear her throat “—you did try to kiss me at the Fourth of July fireworks...” She cut a quick glance up at him, catching his dark gaze. “The summer before our senior year of high school.”

“As I recall—” Dean pitched his voice to a low, sultry whisper and slid an arm around her waist “—I didn’t just try to kiss you. I succeeded. And you kissed me back. More than once.” He leaned in, catching her lips again, then moved his mouth down the line of her jaw and nibbled his way toward her earlobe.

As much as her teenaged self had wanted to drape her arms around his neck and savor the caress of his kisses, her adult self reminded her wavering heart of his reputation. The pain of Carl’s betrayal was too fresh, her resolve not to repeat her past mistakes too firm to throw caution aside. Even if she knew a few moments of passion with Dean would be bliss. Her traitorous body buzzed with anticipation and pleasure. Fortunately, her head still worked. Planting her hands on his chest—dear heavens, he was solid and taut with muscle!—she rallied enough composure to push him away. “Don’t.”

Dean lowered his hands and gave his head a quick shake. “Okay. I’ll respect your wishes, for now, but... I had to give it a shot. I didn’t want to live with the regret of letting a second chance with you slip past untried.”

Lila finger-combed her hair away from her eyes as she walked slowly over to her palette, her head spinning. Eve, a gunman, Dean, an ice storm. Any one of those was enough to process in a day, but all of them at once?

Chloe sat by the sliding glass door to her screened porch, pleading with sad eyes and a soft meow to be let out. Spring through autumn, the porch was a favorite hangout for her cat, but Chloe couldn’t get it through her head that it was too cold to go out in winter. Being in no mood to play the in-and-out and in-and-out-again game with her cat, Lila did her best to ignore Chloe’s beseeching expression.

“It’s not that I’m unwilling to try, Dean—” she cast him a glance for understanding, not unlike the one Chloe was giving her “—but I need to be sure about you before I take a leap that could get me hurt. You’ve only been back in my life a few hours. And while the physical chemistry may have been reignited on sight, we have eleven years of getting reacquainted to consider.”

“I get that.” He slipped his hands in his jeans pockets and rocked back on his heels. “I can give you time. My plan is to be at my parents’ cabin for the next couple of months. I have a seasonal job lined up with a friend starting in April. But until then...we have time to get to know each other again.”

“Once this killer is caught. And Eve goes to her biological family...”

He inhaled deeply and nodded. “Right. The Pittses will be caught, Lila. There’s a huge manhunt for them. It’s just a matter of time.”

The question was—would the Pitts brothers be caught before or after they reached her cabin, and she had to fight for Eve’s life? Biting her bottom lip, she paced a bit more. She stopped at her easel and lifted the paintbrush she’d been using when she’d received the call about Eve. She’d been so crazily distracted since then, she’d allowed the paint to dry on the brush. She’d have to throw that brush away. And she’d wasted a good amount of expensive paint, which was now caked on her palette as well.

Whatever. She had bigger problems to deal with...

No sooner had the thought entered her mind than a plaintive wail came from the nursery, loud enough that the baby monitor was overkill.

“That nap didn’t last long,” Dean said as he followed her into the nursery.

“No, it didn’t. Poor thing. I know she’s hurting...and scared without her mother.” When Lila stroked Eve’s head to soothe her, she found the baby’s skin unusually warm. “Oh, no.”

“What?” Dean stepped closer to peer over her shoulder.

“I think she’s running a fever.”

* * *

Pulling to a stop along the isolated mountain road, Wayne consulted the GPS unit mounted on the dash of the SUV he’d stolen. According to the device, he was almost to the house where the police had taken Eve. A secluded mountain cabin. He grunted smugly. Nice try, Enemy, but he’d found the place. He wondered briefly how Kent was doing locating Caleb.

Guess I’ll find out soon enough.

Rather than give away his approach, give the foster family time to hide Eve or arm themselves, he cut the engine of the old SUV and climbed out to walk the last quarter mile or so to the driveway. The wind and pelting ice were as cold as a witch’s soul, but Kent wouldn’t take any excuses for not doing the job right. Precaution, planning...he wouldn’t let his big brother down.

As he neared the driveway, the rumble of tires on the slick mountain highway warned him of a car’s approach. He left the road, sneaking into the line of trees in time to see a local police squad car ease past. The cop craned his neck, eyeing the woods where Wayne stood behind a tree, then stopped and opened his driver’s side door. “Hey, you there! Come out with your hands up then lie face down on the ground!”

Wayne’s heartbeat increased three-fold. He would not—could not—be caught now and sent away. The cop could shoot him in the back for all he cared—he’d rather rot in a grave than in a cell—but not before he finished the mission Kent had sent him on.

He put a hand on the gun tucked in the waist of his pants, the Glock .40 he’d lifted from the injured US marshal. Then, stepping from the trees as directed, he raised the gun and fired.

The cop quickly ducked back into the protection of his squad car and drew his sidearm. Wayne hurried forward, trying to get off the fatal shot before the cop could return fire. But a powerful blow and a sharp, burning sting in his thigh knocked him down before he could make it ten steps.

With The Sword I will fight for my right to live free, seek The Truth and defend myself from The Enemy. The mantra Kent had drilled into him over the past thirteen years gave him the courage and the energy to block out the pain and fight on. The cop was an obstacle to completing his mission, and he knew how to deal with an obstacle. Eliminate it.

* * *

Dean reached around Lila, his body pressing against her back, and he laid his hand on the infant’s forehead. “Yeah, she is warm. You have a thermometer?”

Lila nodded. “I’ll be right back.” She hurried to the bathroom and pulled out of the cabinet a basket of supplies she kept on hand for her foster babies. She checked the expiration date on the bottle of liquid acetaminophen and dug out the baby thermometer. Returning to the nursery, she handed the medicine to Dean and uncapped the protective cover on the thermometer.

“What the hell is that?” Dean asked.

“What do you think?” She bumped him out of the way with her hip and gently placed the tip in Eve’s ear. A second later, the device beeped and she checked the reading. “One hundred point one.”

Dean took the thermometer from her and gave it a once-over. “What happened to the old-fashioned glass stick put under your tongue?”

She chuckled. “Yeah, you try to get a baby to hold a glass stick under her tongue.” She took the acetaminophen back from him and uncapped the dropper. “You don’t want to know where they put thermometers in babies before this doohickey came along.”

He sent her a wry look. “I’m well aware of where parents used to take a baby’s temperature.”

“Hmm.” She eased the medicine dropper between Eve’s lips and squirted the sugary medicine onto the baby’s tongue. “The family in Iraq did things the old-fashioned way, I take it.”

He gave her a quick one-shoulder shrug. “Something like that.”

She flashed Eve a lopsided smile as the baby smacked her lips and swallowed her medicine. “I love this age. Teething crankiness aside.”

He grunted an acknowledgment. “Why is that?”

“Pardon?”

“Why is this age—six months, you said—so special?”

“Oh. Well...because they start interacting more with you. Babies begin babbling and trying to talk, and they will laugh at silly things like funny noises or games. They can sit up, and they start eating solid foods, which is always an adventure.”

“Always a mess, you mean.”

She bumped him with her shoulder. “Grump. I think a baby face smeared with strained fruit is the cutest thing on earth.”

He sent her a dubious side-glance. “To each his own.”

Outside, a loud crack reverberated through the woods. Dean jerked up his head, his attention darting to the window. His body seemed tense, his muscles rigid as he stared out into her yard.

His reaction puzzled Lila. “Another branch breaking from the ice?”

He flicked a quick glance at her, and a muscle in his jaw flexed. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” She recapped the bottle of medicine and set it on the dresser next to the crib.

His expression modulated as if weighing his words. “Probably.”

She tipped her head, studying him. “Dean?”

He fingered aside the curtain and stared out at the icy lawn with a dark scowl.

“What time did they say that cop was supposed to arrive?” He let the curtain drop and fisted his hands at his sides as he crossed the room to her.

Lila flipped her wrist to check her watch. Well over two hours had passed since she’d received the phone call from Special Agent Dunn. “I was under the impression they were sending someone out right away.” She furrowed her brow, and a nervous flutter gathered in her stomach. “They should be here by now.”