Hunted (10 page)

There was more, but Mike didn’t have the stomach to read it now. Every time that lunatic mentioned something personal he wanted to tear his throat out. Where the hell had he gotten his information? How had he known about George’s Café?

He folded the letter and put it back with the others in his duffel bag. He would work on this some more tonight. The letters held the key. He knew it.

Becky and Sam had already started eating by the time he got to the kitchen. An empty bowl and a thick sandwich waited for him. “Smells good in here.”

Becky got up and took his bowl to the stove. She ladled some of Sam’s favorite alphabet soup, then brought it back to him. The steam filled his nostrils, and he realized just how hungry he was.

“Did you see?” Sam asked through a mouthful of tuna sandwich. “Mom baked a cake, too.”

“Swallow first,” Mike said. She’d been busy. A golden cake sat cooling on the counter. Next to that were the cookies, big ones, lots of them. On the stove, next to the soup, a larger pot boiled loudly. He turned to Becky. “Bored, were we?”

She gave him a Mona Lisa smile. Something had shifted. The atmosphere had changed. The tension from this morning had disappeared. Sam, for the first time since they’d been here, acted like Sam. He ate his soup with a vengeance and swung his legs beneath the table. Becky was different, too. It was nuts, but the way she was looking at him—she was being coy. Flirting.

Had all this come about because he’d told Sam it was okay to be scared? That didn’t make sense.

But what else could explain it? They were still stuck in this little cabin. The blizzard still howled. Mojo was still out there.

“None of us will be bored tonight,” Becky said. “I've made plans.”

Mike looked at Sam and raised his eyebrows. “Uh-oh.”

Sam giggled.

“Let’s play checkers, then we'll work some more on that puzzle. After that, I thought we would play these word games.” She got up from the table and went to the counter by the phone. There was a brown bag there, and she brought it with her back to the table. “Look,” she said. She pulled out a thick tablet. “It’s a game. Full of stories that have a bunch of words left out. We make up words to fill in the blanks. Then we read them out loud. Sounds great, huh?”

Mike nodded. All he’d wanted was to sit by the fire and turn in early. But he didn’t want to spoil the mood. “Can’t wait.”

He ate his sandwich and watched his family.
What used to be his family.
Sam hummed the theme from
Star Wars
as he chewed. Becky looked relaxed and comfortable. Even though he knew it was an illusion, he didn’t care. He wanted to have this moment.

He wandered back in time, shaking out old memories. Nothing had given him more pleasure than quiet times with his family. Not his job, not vacations. Nothing. He would sit in the living room, pretending to read the newspaper, while Becky and the kids puttered around the house. He’d felt like king of the world, with a sense of satisfaction that he’d never found again. He never suspected that it all would be taken from him in the blink of an eye.

Now, the only real pleasure he had was to remember what was. Except for Sam. He watched his boy take another letter from his soup and put it on his plate. He’d collected quite a few. Mike saw he had spelled the name Darrelyn with the pasta. Wasn’t nine too young to be interested in girls? In his time, maybe, but it was a new world.

He took another bite of his sandwich. It was the best meal he’d had in ages.

Becky took her empty dishes to the sink. She felt hopeful for the first time since this nightmare had begun. Mike had really made an effort with Sam. When it came to his son, Mike was capable of going the distance. She believed that with all her heart. He’d proved it again today, when he’d talked to Sam about being scared. What a difference he’d made.

She turned at the sink and leaned back, just watching her little boy. He was playing with the letters from the soup. His hands were gooey, but she didn’t care. He wasn’t that sullen, withdrawn kid anymore. At least for now. She would do anything she could to keep it that way.

She thought about the letter she’d read on Sam’s computer. Maybe, just maybe, if Mike could be that way with Sam, he could be that way with her. Had Sam shown her that letter in an attempt to bring them back together? Was he really clever enough, old enough, to plot something that subtle?

Her gaze moved to her husband. Her ex-husband. He’d really listened to her concerns this afternoon. She knew he was frightened to let down his guard. It didn’t take a genius to figure that out. What puzzled her was what he thought he was going to lose. Did he believe the Tin Man act would save him from being hurt again? Maybe. Tonight, she would bring it up. After today’s success with Sam, he might even be willing to listen.

But what if he did listen? What if he said he wanted to change? Did she really want to get involved with him again? Her life worked now. She was busy and productive, and her days—and nights—weren’t filled with dread about Mike getting hurt. Maybe she should just leave well enough alone. “You guys ready for dessert?”

Sam nodded. “I want five.”

“Five? These are big, Sam.” She lifted the plate and brought it over to the table. Each cookie was the size of a saucer. “Are you sure you can eat that many?”

“I'll bet you I can.”

“What kind of a bet?” She sat down and looked from Sam’s smiling face to Mike. He grinned, too. He seemed younger. More handsome. The humor in his eyes captivated her, and she remembered, a little too clearly, how she had always been a sucker for that look.

“If I can eat five cookies right now, we don’t have to work on that stupid puzzle tonight.”

She laughed. “Stupid puzzle, eh? And what happens if you can’t eat all five?” She knew he could, of course. He would be sick afterward, but he could do it.

“Then we put the puzzle together.”

She shook her head. “Oh, no. That’s not nearly enough. If you can’t eat all five cookies, then you have to—”

“Clean the kitchen for a week,” Mike said.

Becky grinned. “And help with the laundry.”

“What?” Sam screeched. “That’s not fair.”

“You called the puzzle stupid, Samson,” Mike said, suddenly serious. “You know perfectly well how your mother feels about puzzles. Now you have to pay.”

Sam grabbed a cookie. “I'll eat six!” He took a huge bite.

Mike got up. He moved slowly behind Sam’s chair. Sam swiveled around to look at him. “What are you doing?”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Mike said.

Becky didn’t know what he was doing, either. Then Mike motioned for her to join him. She did.

Sam, still chewing, tried to scoot his chair back so he could get up.

“Nope. You have to sit right there.”

“That wasn’t in the rules.”

“Sure it was.” Mike wiggled his fingers so that Becky could see he wanted to tickle Sam.

She shook her head, and leaned very close to him. “He'll choke,” she whispered.

Mike stopped. Clearly, she’d foiled his plan. He looked at her with raised eyebrows.

Then she knew just what to do. She smiled. Only one thing bothered Sam more than being tickled. Big sloppy kisses. She winked at Mike, then went down on her knees so her face was level with Sam’s.

Mike followed quickly.

Sam looked at her, then spun to look at Mike. He was trapped and he knew it. “No fair!”

“That’s only one cookie,” Mike said. “Five to go.”

“Get away!”

“Nope,” Becky said. She nodded at Mike. As a unit, they leaned forward and smooched Sam’s cheeks.

He screeched.

Becky had to stop. She was laughing too hard to keep going. Mike was still at it, making unbelievable sounds as he kissed Sam, who flailed around in a desperate attempt to escape. “Five more to go,” she said and moved in for another round.

Just before she made contact with his cheek, Sam disappeared. He slid from his chair, under the table in one smooth move. Suddenly, she was staring at Mike, her face and his only inches apart.

She froze. Mike did too. They stared at each other for a long minute. Then Mike leaned forward.

B
ecky watched his face come nearer. She held her breath as his lips brushed against hers, softly, like a whisper. She closed her eyes, and he kissed her again, harder this time, but not by much. Just enough to send a little shock wave through her system.

“I've finished. All six!”

Becky’s eyes snapped open and she pulled back. Mike gave her a wistful smile, and she felt her cheeks fill with heat. She turned quickly away, afraid that he would see her reaction to his kiss.

He’d barely touched her. His lips had been warm but closed. And he’d made her tremble.

She sat back and watched as Sam held up both hands to show he’d eaten all the cookies. The smile on his face was worth a million dollars. His eyes looked alive and spirited and his giggles were filled with delight. Then she saw the cookie-shaped lump in his pocket, and she grinned. She wouldn’t say a word.

Mike reached forward and grabbed Sam by the waist. He pulled him into his arms and gave him a bear hug that Becky almost felt. She pictured herself in Mike’s arms, then shook away the image as quickly as she could. What was she thinking? Mike toppled to his side and brought Sam with him. Their laughter filled the room as Mike got down to some serious tickling. Sam wiggled like a fish under his teasing hands.

She started to move toward them, to join in the fray, but stopped short. It was wonderful to see Sam and Mike so free and easy, but she was a fool if she thought it was for keeps. They’d all been so tense for so long, it was only natural that they would seek relief. That had been her original intent, hadn’t it?

She’d planned the games and baked the goodies with one thing in mind. To release the stranglehold of fear that had encircled them all. She couldn’t do anything about Mojo from here. Just wait and be careful. But she would be damned if she was going to let him squeeze the life out of her boy. Not without a fight. A fight she was winning, for now.

That didn’t mean that Mike was his old self, and would never again retreat behind his icy facade. Any minute, he could turn on her, shut her out. But seeing him like this was like seeing an old friend. He even looked like the man she’d married. The laughter took years from his face and, more importantly, swept away the haunted expression that had plagued him for so long.

It wasn’t hard to understand why this man made her think of being in his arms.

She got up, and went over to the guys. In those short seconds, the tables had turned. Sam sat on Mike’s stomach. He was trying hard to tickle his dad, but he couldn’t keep Mike’s hands out of the way. She sat down again, facing Sam and above Mike. She grinned and grabbed Mike’s wrists, pulling them to the floor.

“Hey, no fair.” Mike struggled, but not very hard.

Sam attacked with all ten fingers, and she laughed until she cried.

The sound of the phone stopped them all. She froze, with Mike’s wrists still captive in her hands. Sam sat up with wide eyes. The ring came again, high-pitched and urgent.

Mike broke out of her grasp instantly. He lifted Sam and sat him down by his side, then he was on his feet. He turned to her. “Stay here.” He ran into the living room, out of her sight.

The next ring stopped abruptly, and she began to pray.

“Who is it?” Sam asked.

She turned to him. He was still sitting where Mike had put him. His smile had disappeared, and in its place was a worried frown.

“I don’t know,” she said, trying to keep the fear from her voice. “Probably Daddy’s office.”

“What if it’s him?”

She knew who he meant. “Daddy will take care of it, honey.”

He didn’t ask her any more questions. He just stared at the kitchen doorway with unblinking eyes. She couldn’t do much more herself. She was so afraid to hope.

Time seemed to come to a crawl. She didn’t move, didn’t dare breathe. Then she heard his footsteps.

He was smiling.

She let her head drop into her hands as the relief washed over her.

“Hey, sport,” Mike said. “Why don’t you go set up the checkerboard while Mom and I clear the table?”

Becky looked up again. Sam was on his feet, worry still evident on his beautiful face. Mike put his arm around his shoulders. “It’s okay, kiddo. Don’t worry. We're gonna be fine.”

Sam’s smile came slowly. “Did they catch him?”

Becky heard Mike take a slow breath. “No,” he said. “They haven’t caught him. But they do know he’s headed north. He’s not coming this way tonight.”

“Are we going home?”

“Not yet.”

Sam sighed. What a sound coming from such a little guy, she thought.

Becky got to her feet, and walked over to her son. “It won’t take us long in here, Sam. You go set up the checkerboard, like Daddy said. We'll be there in a minute.”

He nodded, and walked out of the kitchen. As soon as he was gone, Becky turned to Mike. “Tell me.”

“It’s good news. They've picked up his trail. He’s in, or he was in, Laramie. Heading north. That was as of this morning. He’s probably in Casper by now.”

It was hard to believe it was over. That they were safe. “When can we go home?”

“There’s no guarantee that he’s not going to double back. We're not leaving till he’s caught.”

“That could take days or weeks. What if they don’t ever catch him?”

“They will. At the very least, they'll be able to verify he’s in Canada. But you’d better pray they catch him. The last thing we want is for him to get away. We would never know another minute’s peace.”

“But tonight?”

“We can breathe a little easier. Just don’t let down your guard. He could be here tomorrow or the next day. Until we know, we keep to our game plan.

“All right.” He stood by the fridge and she walked over to him. “But we do have this night. Let’s relax and have fun. Sam needs it. I need it.”

His dark brown eyes softened. “Yes, ma'am.”

She reached over and took two of his fingers in her hand, but she didn’t let go of his gaze. “It’s nice to be friends again. I've missed that.”

He nodded. “I've missed you.”

She didn’t move, and except for the light pressure of his fingers, he didn’t either. She swallowed and found her throat felt thick and her mouth dry. She captured her bottom lip with her teeth, and his eyes followed the movement as if spellbound. She knew what he was feeling. A pull as strong as the tide had her in its grip, too. What he couldn’t see under her thick sweater was that her breasts felt heavy and her nipples hard. Warmth spread inside her and her pulse quickened.

She stepped back, dropping his hand and breaking the spell.

“I've got to clean up,” she said, afraid to look him in the eye.

“Becky...”

“Don’t, Mike.” She looked up at him again. He did want her, there was no mistaking that. She knew this man better than she knew herself. “We can’t do this. You know that. Now go on out there and be with Sam. I need to do the dishes.”

She could see the strong muscle of his jaw tense and relax. “No, no. I'll clean up in here.”

“Thank you,” she said, wondering if he understood that she meant far more than the dishes.

“Go on, get out there,” he said. “I can only be noble for so long.”

She caught his gaze. The haze of desire still lingered in his brown eyes. The temptation to go to him surprised her with its strength. It was the situation, she thought. The news that Mojo was far away, and that they could all relax. She turned and took three deep breaths to clear any foolish notions from her head. Sam needed her.

He sat on the floor by the fireplace, with the checkerboard in front of him. He flipped the box top over and caught it with one flat hand, then flipped it again. When he looked up at her, it fell to the floor.

“Sorry I was so long.”

He shrugged. “I want to be red. Can I?”

She nodded as she sat across from him, the checkerboard between them. “Sure can. That means you go first.”

He studied the board, while she studied him. His dark hair was getting too long. It came down below his collar and half covered his ears. She would take him for a trim when they got home. For the first time in a long while, she felt as though they would be going home. That life would be getting back to normal.

He would go to school, and she would finish the decorating job at the hotel. He would go back to his computer generated world, and she would get busy with the PTA, or volunteering at the museum, or a hundred other little pieces of business that would help keep her mind off the lonely nights.

How long would it take her to get over Mike this time? Another year? If they made love, would she ever get over him? God, why was she even thinking that? She wouldn’t make love to him. Not tonight or ever.

“It’s your move.”

Sam’s voice startled her and she looked down at the board. It took a minute to remember what she was supposed to do. “I haven’t played checkers in a hundred years,” she said.

“A hundred?”

She smiled at him. “Maybe a thousand.”

“Maybe you played it with dinosaurs,” he said, giggling.

“That’s it. Me and Tyrannosaurus rex. I kept winning because his arms were too short to reach the board.” She put her hands close to her sides and wiggled her fingers.

Sam mimicked her and roared like a dinosaur with all his might.

Mike walked quietly into the living room and stood by the couch. Watching Becky and Sam goof around was the best thing that had happened to him in a long time. He’d better enjoy it. After all, the chance would probably never come again.

The world they were in wasn’t real, and he knew it. The fear, the close quarters, the intensity were all extraordinary. They’d been granted a temporary stay, and emotions were bound to go overboard. But he’d seen the look in her eyes. In the old days, all she’d had to do was give him that glance, and they would have headed for the bedroom.

Christ, he wanted her. He wanted to take off that damn sweater of hers and feel her beneath his tongue. He wanted to know her body again, to explore all the hidden curves he’d once worshipped.

Making love with her once would never be enough.

Many things had changed in the last few years, but her effect on him wasn’t one of them. Just looking at her now, sitting on the floor, was enough to send his pulse into overdrive. It was more than her beauty. It was the way she looked at him, the way she smiled. The way she tucked her hair behind her ear. Hell, every move she made was enough to make him crazy.

“He’s killing me, Mike,” Becky said. “He’s crowned me, and he doesn’t even care that I'm his mother. You would think he would show a little mercy.”

Mike fought down the urge to pull her to him right then and there. He struggled to smile casually as he walked over to the fireplace. It was dark out, although he wasn’t sure if that was nightfall, or just the black thunderclouds carpeting the sky. It didn’t matter. Mojo was in Wyoming. And while he was there, he couldn’t see the smoke from the chimney.

He crouched and grabbed some tinder. “Sam, don’t let her trick you. She’s ruthless when it comes to checkers.”

He heard them both laugh. The sound filled him with something he’d nearly forgotten existed. Peace. He crumpled some newspaper and stuck it under the grate. “There’s not enough wood here for the night. I've got to get some more.”

“Outside?” Becky asked.

“Unless you want me to chop up the dining room table.”

That set Sam off again. When was the last time his boy had had the giggles? Years, he thought. Before Amy had gotten sick.

The thought of his little girl was a sharp jolt, bringing him back down to earth. He was a fool to think things had really changed. One night of laughter didn’t go very far to erase years of pain.

He stood up. “Is the game over?”

Becky nodded. “He won. You're next. We'll see if you have better luck.” She lifted her hand to him, and he took it, pulling her to her feet.

She stood very close to him, close enough for him to smell the soft scent of roses. Before he could back away, she touched his arm lightly with her hand. His mind went right back to where he started. Wanting her. Needing her.

He had to go outside. Now. It was as if he was back in high school, when he’d had to carry his books in front of his crotch to hide his overactive hormones. “What are you waiting for, Samson? Set up the game. I'll get the firewood, and then I'll whip your butt.”

“Not a chance,” Sam said. “Not in a billion years.”

Becky went back into the kitchen while Mike donned his parka and gloves then turned to look at Sam, leaning over the checkerboard, setting up the pieces. Mike hadn’t realized how much he missed the little things about living with his family. The quiet times, and the silly games. Watching Sam grow from day to day. How could a week in the mountains make up for years of being a part-time father? The thought of going back to the way it was hurt like hell. Maybe Sam didn’t need him, but Lord, he needed his son.

He headed for the kitchen. Becky stood by the stove, her back to him. He didn’t move for a minute, just let his gaze wander over her, feeling his heart thud as he looked at the soft curve of her bottom.

What was the matter with him? It had been a long time since he’d made love, but this was out of hand. He rushed past her to the back door. When he opened it, snow and ice hit him with a blast. It was almost enough to douse the flames.

“Damn fool,” he muttered, as he lifted the logs. “She’s off-limits. She doesn’t want you. Get over it.” He balanced the last piece he could manage, then pushed the door open with his foot. Before he went inside, he turned and looked around.

The snow was falling at a sharp angle from the wind. The trees that had been so laden were now bare, as the fierce storm kept any snow from sticking. Huge drifts had come up above the deck and against the side of the house. The windows would be buried soon. The sound of the gale was thunderous as it whipped the trees into a frenzy.

The sky itself was black and turbulent. He couldn’t make out individual clouds, just a churning mass of darkness. He pitied anyone who didn’t have a warm home tonight. Except one man. He hoped the storm went all the way to Wyoming, and that it kept Mojo far away from here.