Читать книгу The Kidnapping of Kenzie Thorn - Liz Johnson - Страница 11

Kenzie tried to scream, but the calloused hand covering her mouth effectively cut off all sound and stole almost all of her breath. She struggled to rip the fingers from her face, but another arm snaked around her middle, pinning her to the driver’s seat, her arms at her sides.

She could not think, could not focus. She could only react, fighting with all her might against the corded arms wrapped around her.

Futilely, she tried to bite the fingers at her mouth, but only managed to nibble on a knuckle. Tossing her head from side to side, she tried to free herself, but the arms were immovable.

After what seemed an hour but was likely closer to five minutes, she was too tired to fight anymore. Sliding back against the seat, she tried another tactic. She would reason with the man sitting behind her. Craning her neck to look at him through the rearview mirror, she could barely make out the outline of rumpled hair and broad shoulders. But it was too dark for her to see any of his features.

He sat quietly, just holding her to the seat, seemingly unsure of what he wanted to do next. Finally, he whispered in her ear, “Are you done struggling?”

Her eyes flew open at his voice. She knew that voice. It was the same voice that made her stomach drop to her toes and sent shivers up and down her back.

Gasping, she garbled something unintelligible into his hand. She had trusted him, and now he was going to—well, she wasn’t sure what he was going to do. But it wasn’t going to be good, that was for sure.

“Shh. Calm down,” he whispered into her ear. His voice was deep and soothing, and his restraints were just tight enough to hold her in place. He didn’t hurt her as long as she sat still.

She made another wild attempt to free herself, trying to grab for the door handle or honk the horn. His arm around her waist suddenly squeezed, stealing all of her breath and robbing her of all her strength. He must have felt the whoosh of air expel from her lungs through her nose, because he relaxed his grip over her mouth.

Almost limp in his arms, Kenzie felt defeated. “What do you want?” she wheezed between his fingers.

“I want you to turn the car around and start driving. I want you to take me farther from the prison and to freedom. I’ll tell you where to go.”

Kenzie’s mind worked as fast as it could under the strained circumstances. She had to get back to the prison or to a lighted, busy area. Here he was free to do with her as he pleased. It probably meant death. Or worse.

“You know who my grandfather is, don’t you? If you kidnap me, there’ll be no pardon. He’ll hunt you down and prosecute you to the fullest extent of the law. Please think about this.” She was very proud that she kept her voice from shaking with emotion and fear as she spoke.

Suddenly the arm around her middle moved and was quickly replaced by the point of a knife in her side.

“Just do what I say, Kenzie.” He had never called her by her first name before, and it sparked a fire back into her.

“No. You don’t want to do this. This can only end poorly for you. Think about what you’re doing!”

“No arguments. Just do it. Now.” His voice a growl, she knew he meant what he said.

Obeying his command, she pulled her car back onto the two-lane road, heading away from Evergreen.

A couple hundred yards away from the turnoff for the prison, she let her foot off the accelerator, hoping to swing the car down the short road to the front gate. Even if they crashed, it would be better than being alone with Myles outside the prison walls. Alone, where he could do whatever he wanted.

“Don’t even think about slowing down,” he commanded. He stuck the knife farther into her side, and she winced.

She yanked the wheel to the right, toward the prison road, but suddenly he was practically beside her, his long arm holding the steering wheel steady. In her frazzled state she was no match for his strength.

The lights of the prison appeared and vanished in just a moment. Protected by trees lining the road, the prison was no longer visible, and Kenzie was alone on a long stretch of road, likely leading to her death.

After all, her life was worth nothing to him now.

He despised doing this. And he hated himself for having to be in this position.

His missions usually didn’t end up like this, but it still had to be done. He wasn’t about to delude himself into thinking that he had a choice about kidnapping the governor’s granddaughter. He had to do this to protect her.

And even worse, he was under strict instructions from his supervisor not to reveal his true identity under any circumstances. According to Nate, if Kenzie leaked his identity to anyone else, the entire operation would be blown. The only two people in the world who knew Myles’s purpose inside the prison were him and Nate. If word got out that he was investigating the trouble Kenzie was in—before all the culprits had revealed themselves—his investigation would crumble, and Nate would know exactly who spilled the beans.

Now that he’d had to kidnap her, he had no choice but to get her to a safe house. There he’d tell her who he was and what he knew of the situation. Until then, he couldn’t be sure that Whitestall hadn’t bugged the car. After all, he’d supplied the car key, so he’d had access to it. And what if they were stopped somewhere? Even if the kidnapping failed, he could still use the situation to smoke out the people plotting Kenzie’s murder—as long as his cover remained intact. Telling her the truth right now was a risk Myles just couldn’t take.

It was torture, scaring Kenzie like this. Over and over in his mind, he reminded himself that it would end soon. They just had to make one quick stop before the safe house so Myles could get in touch with Guard Whitestall. And the safest place Myles knew was a bit off the beaten path—well worth the seventy-five-mile trip out of the way.

But with every visible tremble and shudder of Kenzie’s tiny form, he hated himself just a little bit more. How had it gotten to this? Who would want to harm her?

She inhaled, then let out a halted screech as her ribs came back in contact with the point of the knife. He pulled back on the blade. From his vantage point, squatting on the floor behind the driver’s seat, he could see her shoulders tense again.

How was he ever going to win back her trust? That thought surprised him. Why did it suddenly matter that she trust him at all?

God, am I completely botching this? I just want to protect Kenzie, and instead, I’ve made her terrified and am taking her as far from civilization as I can. Show me how to solve this situation. Show me what You want, because I don’t know what I’m doing here. I believe that You have a plan. Make it clear to me. I’m begging here. I’m always lost without You.

“Myles, what are you going to do with me?”

Kenzie’s terse words ripped him from his silent conversation with God.

Calm her down. Soothe her fears. Speak softly.

With all the best intentions, Myles sighed. “Don’t worry about it. Just keep your eyes on the road.” Not exactly what he’d wanted to say, but it would have to do for now. He knew the truth. He couldn’t do this assignment well while worrying about her feelings. He’d botch the job more than ever if he let his emotions seep in. Still, he could be more kind. “I’m sorry.” This time his words were soft and reassuring.

“It would help if I knew what I was looking for,” she said.

“You’re looking for the white and yellow lines. Try to stay between them.”

He could see her profile in the darkness, and she opened her mouth to speak, then quickly shut it.

He took pity on her, suddenly contrite for his sarcasm, “I’ll tell you when we get closer.” She nodded, but kept her lips clamped closed. And not for the first time, he took several seconds to appreciate her simple beauty and sharp personality. Someday she would make some man very lucky.

Not him, of course. He had a job to do. One that made having anyone waiting at home very difficult. Marriage and a family were years away.

Right now there was only the job. Only protecting Kenzie.

The car hit a major bump in the road, and the knife jammed into her side, snagging the silky material of her sweater.

“Would you mind moving that? I’m not going anywhere. I won’t be jumping out of this car at sixty miles an hour.” Her voice waivered slightly, not in fear, but like she was trying desperately not to let her anger get the better of her. She was used to giving commands. It must be killing her to be so out of control.

“As you wish.” He chuckled, pocketing the little blade and thinking of that line used in his favorite childhood movie. “But don’t make me regret it.”

Somehow, Myles didn’t think that it would matter if he had the seven-inch Bowie knife that Guard Whitestall had initially told him to take. Kenzie’s response would be the same—fighting anger along with trepidation. She was a spicy spitfire if ever there was one.

No complaints, just steely determination to make it through this.

She didn’t know it yet, but she would make it through this. He would make sure of that. He never failed to do his job.

First, Myles needed to figure out why he had been told to escape, to kidnap Kenzie and then to kill her. Whitestall had to have the answers. He would be Myles’s first phone call when they arrived at their destination.

A green sign along the road read: REDMOND 73 MILES.

“Do you see that grove of trees up ahead?”

“Yes.”

“Turn onto that gravel road right after them.” He couldn’t see the road yet, but he knew it would be there, the way it had been since his childhood.

Kenzie made a smooth turn onto the bumpy road, slowing down to accommodate the shifting gravel.

After a few minutes he said, “Make a right at that fence post.”

Again Kenzie followed orders, but something in her demeanor changed. She was suddenly more alert, looking frantically about the tree-lined lane. Was she trying to memorize the route or look for an escape? Probably both. Too bad she would not find anything to help her in either pursuit. These gravel roads were as unremarkable as ever.

In the foothills of the Cascades, they were already hours from the nearest town or any help for her. She’d be much safer just staying with him.

Every second on the road took them farther and farther away from Evergreen. The tiny Oregon town had been her home for two years because of its proximity to the prison. The drive was barely ten minutes from her rented condo to the front gate of the prison, but now she drove in the opposite direction. When Mac and Nana started looking for her, they would start in Evergreen. They’d never think to look for her here.

Every moment she drove plunged her deeper and deeper into the wooded darkness. Away from the familiar. Away from safety. Away from Mac, who was likely completely unaware of her situation. She was at Myles’s mercy now.

That truth shook her very core.

Send Mac. Please! Send someone to rescue me! God, I need his help right now! I think Myles is going to kill me.

Admitting that she believed she was going to die scared Kenzie beyond belief and caused her to slam on the brakes.

Myles’s large body crashed into the back of her seat, sending her into the unforgiving steering wheel. He grumbled loudly. “What’s wrong?”

“Everything!” she screamed. “You’re going to kill me! I’m going to die, and you’re making me drive to my burial ground!” She clamped her hands over her mouth, eyes wide, realizing what she had just said.

Oh, she’d been doing so well, holding herself together, searching for an opportunity to escape. But when fear and anger mixed, she could not be held responsible for what came out of her mouth. She put her face in her hands and let out a single, wild sob. Thankful that the car had stopped when she’d slammed on the brake, she dropped her forehead and rested it against the steering wheel.

Her shoulders shook, and each trembling breath required a concentrated effort not to expel a sob.

With amazing agility for such a large man, Myles squeezed between the two front seats and over the center console. Slipping into the passenger seat, he pulled her quaking form into a tight hug. His arms wrapped around her, subduing her trembles. One of his large hands cupped the top of her head and smoothed down her hair until it wrapped around the nape of her neck. He used his nimble fingers to force her to look up into his face.

The only lights came from the dashboard and the headlights pointing into nothingness. They cast a small glow inside the car, and she could see one of his eyes looking right into her face.

“Everything’s going to be okay.”

Even now, she found that she wanted to trust him, to look into his face and believe that he was telling her the truth. He was strong and capable. But he was also a hardened criminal, an escaped convict and her abductor.

He couldn’t be trusted.

“D-don’t,” she stammered pushing against him. His proximity was too close, too personal, too intimate. She didn’t want to be this close to someone so dangerous. Someone who made her heart beat frantically in fear. Someone who, at the same time, made her feel something very different than fear.

“Don’t what?” Myles rumbled. He didn’t move back even a fraction of an inch, and his breath fanned her face, invading her space all the more.

“Don’t try to make me feel better after you—you—you kidnapped me!”

“Aren’t you a little old to be kidnapped?” He chuckled.

“That’s not the point and you know it! You got out of prison, now let me go!” Her voice rose in aggravation, but kept an even pitch. She tried to push against him again, tried to create more space between them, but he was immovable. “You’re in my bubble,” she finally said, her temper making her respond completely inappropriately to an armed felon.

He laughed out loud, a deep, rich sound that would have been contagious in any other situation. “Your bubble?”

“Yes, my bubble!” she said, indignation rapidly rising. “My space, my personal space. You’re invading it.”

“Are you trying to tell me to back off?”

“Yes!”

He laughed again as he let her go and leaned back into the passenger seat. Stretching his long legs out as much as allowed by the compact car, he propped his hands behind his head and said, “Drive on. We’ve got a ways to go yet tonight.”

The infuriating man! She stomped on the gas pedal, sending the car bouncing into the inky night. The thick tree line on their right began to thin as they plunged headlong into the darkness.

Kenzie tried to focus on finding another road or sign of life in this wilderness. Any sign of civilization could save her.

Her eyes scanned feverishly back and forth to no avail. All she could see was the ditch on the left side of the road and sporadic pine trees on the right.

Suddenly a small deer darted through the headlights, and she slammed on the brakes for the second time that night, just missing the little creature. “Probably just running from a mountain lion,” Myles mumbled, sounding half-asleep.

How could he be falling asleep? He was kidnapping her, and he was falling asleep?

She took a deep breath and pushed her indignation aside. All the better for her if he wasn’t paying attention—it meant he wouldn’t notice her planning her escape.

Her focus on just that plan, she looked for intersections crossing the road. But there were none. No mailboxes along the gravel indicating a house down a driveway. No street signs. Nothing. No indication of where they were, or where they had been. Miles and miles from Evergreen or any other town.

Would Myles be caught before something terrible happened? Would they ever track and find him? Whatever his plan was, it seemed to be working. They probably didn’t even know he was missing from the prison yet. And she had no plans for the evening, so no one would report her as missing until the next day. Everything seemed to be going his way. Even the fine gravel conspired to keep them from being tracked, billowing up behind the tires and then settling down over their tracks.

But Mac would find her. He always did.

A movement beside her drew her attention. Myles rubbed his left knee, kneading the muscles of his thigh directly above his kneecap, as though in pain. His eyes appeared to be closed, and a grimace wrinkled his forehead and pinched his lips. His long fingers spanned his knee and massaged the tendons on either side.

He made no other indication that he was awake.

Kenzie turned back to the road ahead, her eye catching for an instant on the green digital clock on the dashboard, reading 12:17 a.m. Had they really left the prison more than two hours before? How long ago had they left the paved road? She had no idea! She mentally kicked herself for not paying more attention to such an important detail.

“Lamebrain,” she mumbled.

“You say something?” Myles asked, his voice not even husky from sleep.

“No.” She sat ramrod straight, turning the car along a slight curve.

Silence reigned for several more minutes. Suddenly Myles said, “Stop here.”

“Where?”

“Right here.”

She slowed to a stop and peered through the windshield, searching for the reason he told her to stop.

And suddenly she saw it. A small log cabin straight ahead of them. How had he known where to stop? This entire scenario was altogether too strange. How had she gotten caught up in this? Why had Myles chosen her?

She was an easy mark. She made herself an easy mark. That’s why he chose her. She had let down her guard in his presence, and he took advantage of it.

“Here we are,” he announced, getting out of the car after snatching the keys from the ignition. “Let’s go.”

Myles took a step out of the car, and his left knee almost buckled beneath him. He stumbled, but caught himself before falling all the way to the gravel. As he swiped at the keys that he had immediately taken from Kenzie then promptly dropped, his knee screamed again.

He hated the stupid high school football injury. His dream of being a navy SEAL had crashed around him the moment his ACL snapped when the Yuma High Criminals’ defensive lineman sacked him in the city championship game.

Now the doctors said that the scar tissue from the original repair surgery was inflamed and would keep him in pain until they did another surgery. But then he got this assignment. It was hard to get good medical attention in prison. It was hard to get much of anything in prison. But the mission would be over soon. They were only a hundred miles from the safe house. And he had a good feeling about Whitestall. He would wrap up this investigation quickly.

Righting himself before Kenzie even exited the car, he stalked toward the cabin’s front door. His knee cooperated by sheer force of his will as he berated himself for squatting for so long.

A jumpy Kenzie slowly followed him toward the cabin, her eyes darting around the blackness. Natural beauty would soon surround them in the golden glow of the sunrise.

Now the moon cast an ethereal radiance around the young woman’s tiny frame. Her usually angelic features hardened as she glared into his face. She hated him. He tried to convince himself that it didn’t bother him.

“Why won’t you let me go?” she tried again.

“I can’t. Not yet.” It was the truth. Well, mostly the truth.

Lost in thoughts of the truths he hadn’t told and tugging at the water-warped cabin door that refused to open, he almost missed Kenzie’s sudden spin and quick steps toward the woods on his right. His hand shot out, and he grabbed her elbow. “Not so fast.”

When the door opened with a pop, he pushed her inside, following so closely that he could smell the lingering remnants of her citrus perfume. Lemon and lime.

He led her to the only seat in the room, a wooden rocking chair next to the hearth, and let go of her arm as she sank obediently between the arms, worn smooth from years of use. She looked like a child, staring at him as though he had all the answers. But he didn’t. He just prayed that Whitestall had the answers they needed to save them both.

A movement in the doorway leading to the bathroom caught his eye and he turned toward the white-haired woman in the flannel nightgown walking toward him.

“Grams.” He sighed, pulling the plump woman in his arms.

“Myles, what on earth are you doing here?” she asked, pulling back to look between him and Kenzie. Her brow furrowed, but she left her hands resting on his forearms. “It’s the middle of the night!”

“We’re—” he began, but was instantly interrupted by another voice.

“He kidnapped me! Please, you have to help me!” Kenzie charged across the room, imploring his grandma for help. Kenzie’s fingers folded over each other as though almost in prayer, and she looked like she would fall on her knees at any moment.

Myles gazed into his grandma’s face and spoke to her the whole truth without saying a word. His eyes beseeched her to understand the situation, to trust him. He had given her nothing to worry about for years. She could trust him.

But he also knew that Kenzie could be persuasive, and if he wasn’t careful, Grams would reveal too much before he could get Kenzie to the safe house and convince her that everything he’d done, he had had to do to protect her.

Grams’s eyes squinted back at him for a long moment. He squeezed her arms gently and smiled. She nodded and looked back at Kenzie.

“You’re safe here, dear,” she said, reaching out and taking Kenzie’s hand.

Kenzie looked dumbfounded, her eyes huge in her face, her eyebrows reaching toward her hairline. “But he’s kidnapped me. From the prison. He was in prison. Don’t you understand?”

“You were in prison?” Grams asked, looking over her shoulder at him and quirking an eyebrow.

Myles grinned and shrugged. “It’s a long story. I’ll explain later.”

Grams nodded and turned back to Kenzie. “I’m Lenora Borden. And you are…?”

“Kenzie—Kenzie Thorn.” She tripped on her words.

“Well, welcome. You must be starving. He’s always starving.” She indicated Myles with a nod of her head. “I’ll run down to the cellar and bring up some homemade beef stew. We have just a few jars left from last season’s canning.”

“Thanks, Grams,” Myles said, giving her a peck on her cheek. “Sounds great! I’m going to make a quick phone call.”

Grams nodded, then disappeared out the front door, leaving Kenzie looking so shocked that Myles pushed her gently into the rocking chair before her legs crumpled.

“Don’t move,” he commanded as he stalked to the telephone sitting on the kitchen counter. It was the only phone line in the house, the only way of communication. Cell phones didn’t work this far out of town. And he’d never bothered to have the Internet installed. Being in touch with the outside world defeated his usual purpose for being in the cabin, and it would serve him well now. Even if Whitestall tried to trace the call, he’d have a hard time finding this place. That was what made it so perfect.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Kenzie settle a little deeper into the chair. A quick swipe through the pocket of his jeans produced another item the guard had given him. The tiny slip of paper contained only a single telephone number, a way of contacting the guard when the job was done.

Punching in the ten digits, Myles tapped his foot impatiently.

“Hello?” The man’s voice on the other end of the line quivered slightly.

“Boss, it’s Parsons.”

“Parsons? Is—is everything taken care of?” For the first time in his experience with the prison guard, Myles thought he heard a bit of apprehension in the other man’s voice, but Whitestall quickly subdued it.

“Almost.” He shot a look in Kenzie’s direction. She sat with her hands folded neatly in her lap, prim little sweater wrapped around her shoulders.

“What does that mean?” The other man whispered so softly that Myles pressed the receiver harder to his ear and focused intently on his words.

“I’m just finishing up a few things. You know. Taking care of details.”

“So it’s done? I mean, you killed her?”

“That is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

Silence hung on the line for several long seconds. “Of course it is. I told you to take care of her. Get her out of the picture. They want her gone.”

“Who’s they?” Myles tried to ignore the tug of loathing he felt for the man’s contempt for life in general and Kenzie specifically. Instead he focused on discovering the leader behind the contract to kidnap and murder Kenzie.

“They. Them. They…they told me to take care of it. He said if I didn’t, I’d be fish food. And I believe him, but—” Whitestall’s voice cut off, almost like the phone line had gone dead.

“Boss? You still there?”

“I’m here.”

Myles tried to choose his words wisely. Could he draw out the other man’s concerns about the plan without alerting him to the fact that he was doing so? That “but” had been a loaded one. It spelled fear. And maybe something more. “You ever think maybe you know too much? Maybe you’re not safe, either.”

No noise from the other end of the line. Had he pushed too hard? Finally, “Yeah, I thought of that.”

“But there’s nothing tying you to my escape or the murder. You’ll be fine.”

“Maybe. Maybe no-ot.” The lilt in his voice at the end of the last word told Myles that he’d pressed too hard, frightened the guy beyond opening up. That fear was the first break in Whitestall’s armor. He may be a rough and intimidating prison guard, but he was still human. And now Myles had a gut feeling he was going to run.

For his life.

Suddenly the line went dead, and the force of an unexpected blow to his left knee sent Myles crashing to the ground, howling in pain and clawing at the counter on his way down. His hands caught onto the base of the telephone and ripped the cord from the wall just as his cheek met the rough wooden floor. Tears immediately sprang to his eyes, blurring his vision of Kenzie’s shoes beating a hasty getaway and the cabin door slamming behind her.