Hunted (8 page)

He’d been her first lover and by the end of the semester, she’d begun planning her wedding. She’d told Mack and her dad about the relationship and they’d been insistent about meeting Christivo. But he’d had one reason after another as to why he wasn’t able to.

Six weeks into the second semester, he’d dumped her, admitting that he was married and that his wife and two children lived three hours away, in their hometown.

She’d been so embarrassed that she hadn’t told her family the truth. She’d lied and said they’d mutually agreed to part.

“Christivo might have shared a toothbrush with his wife but he never shared one with me,” she said, unsure why she wanted to share that bit of information with Ethan.

He frowned. “His wife?”

“Yeah. Mack doesn’t know that, however, and I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t tell him. Even though it’s been eight years, he’d probably still want to kill him for me.”

“Maybe I’ll do it for him,” Ethan said, his voice hard.

She shrugged. “It was a long time ago.”

He stared at her. “But there’s been no one else?”

“I’ve dated,” she said, feeling the need to defend herself. “Quite a bit,” she added.

“But never got serious with anyone again?”

She hadn’t been that brave. “I was busy. Working full-time, and I just finished getting my master’s degree last year.”

He nodded but she could tell that he didn’t believe her.

What else could she say?
I was waiting for you or at least the image of you I’ve carried around in my head since I was fourteen.
He’d be scared that she’d left crazy germs on his toothbrush.

* * *

T
HERE
WERE
TWO
different men sitting at the counter when they got downstairs. These guys were a bit older but dressed almost identically to the ones who had occupied the stools that morning. Whoever sold the brown overalls in town had a real monopoly going.

There was a husband and wife and a noisy baby in a high chair. The only other occupied booth had one lone man drinking coffee and eating a piece of chocolate cream pie.

Which Chandler took one look at and promptly decided that she was having a piece.

They took the booth farthest from the door. Ethan took the side facing the door; Chandler had her back to it.

When Roxy approached the table, she smiled at them. “Looks as if you got some sleep. You don’t look quite so hollow-eyed.”

“The bed was really comfortable,” Chandler said. “Wasn’t it, honey?” she added, looking at Ethan.

“Felt good to stretch out,” he replied, not missing a beat.

She wanted to roll her eyes but she didn’t. When Roxy pointed at a chalkboard on the wall, Chandler quickly read through the six choices. Ethan had been right about the meat loaf special. “I’ll have the meat loaf. And a piece of that pie,” she added, inclining her head in the direction of the lone diner.

“I’ll take the egg salad sandwich and the beef barley soup,” Ethan said.

“You going to let your wife eat her pie alone?” Roxy asked.

Ethan shook his head. “Nope. I’ll take a piece of that, too.”

As Roxy walked away, they switched their attention to the television. The volume was low but they were close enough that they could hear the announcer. “Worst storm in ten years.” “Snow falling at more than two inches an hour.” “Interstate 70 expected to be closed for at least another twelve hours.”

That meant it would be at least midnight before they could get on their way. And that was the most optimistic perspective.

“I need a book,” Chandler said.

“Huh?”

“I’m going to go crazy without anything to do for twelve more hours. I need a book or a magazine or something.”

“I got a deck of cards in the truck,” he said.

Sometimes when Mack, Ethan and Brody had played cards in their basement, her dad would make the boys a snack and she got to take it down to them. One time, when she was probably eight, she had begged and begged to be included in the game. Mack had given her a few chips and said she could play until she lost her money. Then he’d given her a crash course in poker.

She’d promptly lost most of her chips until suddenly she started winning. It had been so much fun.

Then Mack had realized that Ethan was throwing in good hands so that she’d keep her head above water. He’d yelled at Ethan, who hadn’t bothered to defend himself.

It was just one of the many reasons she’d fallen in love with him.

As she’d gotten older, the boys would sometimes let her play. Mack would always tell Ethan,
Now, don’t let her win.
And she wasn’t sure if he did or not because she’d become a pretty good poker player.

“Cards might work,” she said. “Do you still play poker?”

He nodded.

Roxy approached the table with their food. The meat loaf came with mashed potatoes and gravy and corn. It looked delicious.

They ate in silence, although not really because the television droned on and the baby was banging his spoon on the metal high chair tray.

While they were eating, a woman entered. She was tall and had a stocking cap pulled on low over her long brown hair. “Oh, my God, Roxy, am I ever glad you’re still open. Isn’t this the worst storm ever?”

“She’s not making me feel better,” Chandler whispered.

“Just enjoy your meat loaf. Live in the moment.”

“Thank you, Master Zen.”

He smiled.

The woman sat on one of the empty stools. “I’ll have to take mine to go,” she said. “Horace is out helping the county keep the roads to the hospital open. But he said he’d be back by three to take me home. Give me some soup and whatever you got that’s chocolate for dessert.”

A woman after her own heart. Chandler pushed her meat loaf aside. She’d eaten most of it. It was time for pie.

She ate it all and had her hands resting on her full belly when Roxy came back with the check. Again, Ethan pulled out cash, leaving Roxy a great tip.

“Roxy, is there anyplace we could buy some ibuprofen? I’ve got a sore knee,” Ethan said.

“Fantail Drugs. Jaylene there at the counter runs the place. It’s just down the road. They carry about everything. The kitchen is just packing up her food. You can follow her back.”

“I’ll go upstairs and get our coats,” Chandler said, grateful for the chance to get some fresh air. Heck, maybe they sold women’s underwear and she could pick up a couple extra pairs. And Ethan could give up sharing his toothbrush.

She slid out of the booth. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Chapter Eight

Chandler wasn’t back when the door opened and two men came in. Ethan pretended to be solely interested in eating his pie. They both had dark hair and pale skin. One was short, probably not over five-three. His chin looked as if he’d had a run-in with a dull ax blade. The other was taller, maybe around five-ten. Hard to guess their weight because they wore big coats. They had snow on their pants up to their knees.

They looked at everyone in the small diner, glancing quickly past the family with the baby and the two men at the counter. They settled on Jaylene at the counter, who had her back to them.

They shared a quick moment of eye contact and then separated, coming at her from both sides. She glanced at one, frowned, then at the other. There was no sign of recognition in her round eyes.

The two men shared another quick glance and Ethan could see the frustration in their eyes. They’d been interested in Jaylene until they’d seen her face.

From the back, they’d have noticed a lone woman with brown hair down to the middle of her back.

Of course, it was curly and a dull brown. Certainly not a silky, shiny dark brown that smelled like tart cherries and vanilla. But these guys had probably been given the shorthand version.

Ethan was sure of it. They were looking for Chandler. He wanted to beat the hell out of them.

But he forced himself to stay in his seat.

He’d always been a good fighter, had learned to protect himself, and later, when he’d had to protect his mother, had handled a man who had outweighed him by fifty pounds.

But they probably were armed and someone might get hurt. What if a stray shot hit the child? What if they had reinforcements out in the car who managed to somehow grab Chandler when Ethan’s attention was on these two?

He wouldn’t take the chance. Not unless he had to.

“Can I help you?” Roxy asked, sounding a bit annoyed. She didn’t know these men, that was clear. And she didn’t like how they’d come up and surrounded Jaylene.

“Two coffees to go,” the short one said. “Heavy on the cream. And a couple pieces of whatever you’ve got for dessert.”

Roxy made fast work out of pouring the coffee and putting lids on the cups. Then she put two pieces of the chocolate pie into a container with two plastic forks.

Hurry up and leave,
he willed. Chandler would be back any minute.

Roxy took the white plastic sack to the counter. The men handed her a bill and waited while she counted out the change. The tall one asked her something but Ethan couldn’t hear because the baby was still clanging his spoon. Ethan saw Roxy shake her head and shrug. Then she handed them the bag and walked away.

They left, letting in a blast of cold air.

Ethan shifted in his seat, enough that he could see the street. Sure enough, within a minute, a big black Suburban rolled past with the two men inside, keeping in the path that the snowplow must have cut sometime when he and Chandler were sleeping. The vehicle handled that portion of the road fine, but Ethan figured they would have trouble if they got somewhere that hadn’t yet been plowed.

Ethan felt stupid. He’d been the one who had told Chandler that they had to assume that the men would keep looking. But when the storm had continued and the road conditions had worsened, he’d gotten complacent. He really hadn’t figured that somebody would be hot on their trail.

These people seemed to want to find Chandler in the worst way. And he didn’t think it was so they could tell her that they were worried sick that she was missing.

Roxy bagged up Jaylene’s order next and the woman pushed a few dollars across the counter, not waiting to get any change. “See you tomorrow,” she said, wrapping her scarf around the hair that had caught the men’s attention. “Unless the snow’s up to my armpits.”

He got up fast. He didn’t want Chandler coming into full view—there were several windows and he wasn’t taking any chances that somebody else was still watching the restaurant. He met her halfway up the stairs.

“I told you I’d bring you your coat,” she said.

“Two men just came in. Caucasian. Dark hair. Mid-forties. One was five-three, with an ugly scar on his chin. The other, five-ten. Recognize that description?”

“Not particularly, but why? Did they ask about me?” Her face had lost all its natural color.

“Not that I heard. But they focused on Jaylene at the counter. On her long brown hair.”

Her hand went up to touch her own hair. “Yikes,” she said weakly. “Doesn’t fit the description of Marcus White. He’s Asian.”

“They were driving a black Suburban. I couldn’t catch the license plate.”

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Chandler’s head jerked up. He knew that somebody was behind him. He whirled, ready to fight.

It was Roxy.

“Those men asked if I’d seen a pretty young woman with long brown hair and emerald-green eyes like a cat.”

Ethan felt his chest tighten. “What did you tell them?”

“I told them it didn’t ring a bell.”

“Thank you,” Chandler whispered.

“I don’t think you two are husband and wife and I don’t think you’re on your way to pick up your children. Neither one of you so much as gave that baby the time of day. And if you had your own kids, especially kids that you were missing, you’d have been all over that baby, wanting to know how old he was, talking about your own kids, things like that.”

Ethan looked at Chandler. Busted.

Roxy would make one hell of a detective.

“We’re not any danger to you,” he said. “We believe those men have already tried to kill her twice.”

Roxy stared at them. “Well, they don’t know she’s with you. Seemed to think she might be traveling alone.”

That was good. Even if they saw his truck in the parking lot and had access to running the plate numbers, they wouldn’t connect him to Chandler.

“Can we still stay here tonight?” he asked.

“I don’t see why not,” Roxy said. She turned. “This is kind of fun. Sort of like a Lifetime movie. Just make sure you don’t bring trouble to my diner.”

* * *

W
HEN
THEY
GOT
inside the room, Chandler sank down on the bed. Ethan remained standing. Molly jumped from the chair onto the bed and crowded up next to Chandler. She reached out a hand and rubbed it across the dog’s shiny fur.

She felt sick. If she hadn’t returned to the room, she would have been a sitting duck. She’d had her back to the door. An easy target for the goons that somebody had hired.

Ethan would have tried to protect her but it would have been two against one. He would have been hurt. Maybe killed.

She’d dragged him into something very dangerous and it was so unfair to him. He’d survived years of war only to come home to her problems, her danger.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“What?”

“I’m sorry that you’re stuck in this stupid snowstorm, in this stupid little town, hiding away in this stupid little room with me.” She waved a hand. “You should just go. Get out while you can. Maybe you can still make it back to the Donovan cabin. Maybe the road is open that direction.”

He shook his head. “I doubt it. And even if it was, I’m not going anywhere.”

“This isn’t your fight. Nobody is out in the middle of the storm of the century looking for you.”

“Just call the police. Blow the lid off this thing.”

She considered it. “I just can’t. It’s my stepmother’s company. If I’m wrong and I’ve implicated either her or her company in a national scandal, she’ll be furious. My dad may never forgive me.” She paused. “I can’t risk that.”

“You could call the police and report the fact that two men are following you.”

“True. But they haven’t threatened me or harmed me. They didn’t even ask for me by name, just a description that could fit a thousand other women.”

“Emerald-green eyes like a cat,” Ethan repeated. “That’s not a thousand other women.”

It was silly to feel warm and slightly off center because Ethan thought her eyes were special.

“What now?” she asked.

“I think I’m going to go shopping.”

She frowned at him.

“You heard Roxy. They don’t know anything about me. So I’m going to walk down to the drugstore and buy you some ibuprofen. I know you need it. And I’ll get you your own toothbrush, too. I suspect you’d like that.”

He was partially right. The pain reliever would be much appreciated. But she’d liked using his toothbrush. No way was she copping to that. She had planned to buy underwear, but asking him to do that for her would probably embarrass the heck out of him. She’d just keep sponging out what she had on.

“Ibuprofen and a toothbrush would be great,” she said.

He studied her. “You won’t leave the room while I’m gone?”

She shook her head.

“I’m leaving you in charge of Molly.”

He said it as if he needed to give her a reason to stay and be responsible. What was she going to do? Take off on foot in waist-high snow?

“While you’re gone, I’m going to lie down and mentally rearrange my closet,” she said. To prove her point, she lowered her back onto the bed and used one hand to fluff up the pillow under her head.

He smiled. “Rearrange your closet? That’s the best you can do?”

“It always relaxes me. In my mind, I have everything color-coordinated, with like materials together. You knows, cottons, then knits, then everything denim. Of course, spring and summer on one side, fall and winter on the other. Shoes nicely stacked. Purses in a clear-sided tote.”

He zipped up his coat. “I’m never going to understand women,” he muttered, and rubbed Molly’s head. “Take care of Chandler,” he instructed.

He stepped away from the bed. Then, almost as if an afterthought, he stepped back and ran the pad of his thumb across the air bag burns on her cheeks and nose. “These look better,” he said softly.

Her heart was racing in her chest. With one finger, she traced the scratch on his face that he’d gotten when they fell through the tree. His skin was so warm. “This, too,” she whispered.

He didn’t say anything for a long moment. Finally, he stepped away. “I’ll be back.”

* * *

H
E
SHOULD
NOT
have touched her. But he’d had this overwhelming need and he’d given in to it.

The skin on her face was soft. Sensual.

He suspected the rest of her would be the same.

When she’d reached up to touch the scratch on his face, he’d frozen.

And all he could think about was her touching him. Everywhere. It had taken about everything he had to walk out of the room.

Idiot.
He strode faster, as fast as he could, in the middle of the road, hoping the cold air would clear his head. He watched for traffic but there was none. It was still tough going, but certainly easier than it would have been on the sidewalks. It was hard to tell how much snow had fallen since it was blowing around so much. He suspected a foot, maybe more.

When he got to Fantail Drugs, Jaylene was behind the counter. There was one other woman in the store, standing in front of a few shelves that had been dedicated to food. He saw cans of soup, boxes of cereal, sacks of potato chips, milk, beer and wine.

Appeared that Jaylene had all the basic food groups covered.

He found the short aisle that held the pain relievers and grabbed a big bottle. Then he went looking for the toothbrushes. Wanted a pink one but had to settle for white. He picked up some extra toothpaste while he was there.

On his way to the counter, he again got close to the food aisle. The chips were calling his name so he grabbed a big bag. And then he felt bad because he didn’t know Chandler’s snack of choice. His options were limited but he added a candy bar, red licorice and salted cashews to his stash.

He cradled his loot in one arm and snagged a bottle of wine with his free hand. When he got to the front counter, Jaylene smiled at him. “Is the ibuprofen just in case you drink too much wine?” she teased.

“Something like that,” he said. “Some snow, huh?”

“Ridiculous. But that’s how these storms work in the mountains. Fine one day and the next, snow everywhere. I saw you at Dot’s. You’re from out of town, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. My wife and I got caught up in this mess and came here when the interstate got closed.”

“You got a place to stay?”

“We do,” he said, choosing not to elaborate.

The other customer came up and stood behind him. “Well, you’re smart,” the stranger said, jumping into the conversation.

“Hey, Marla,” Jaylene said. “How’s it going?”

“Oh, fine. I told Winston I needed a change of scenery for a few minutes.” She looked at Ethan. “My husband and I own the gas station at the other end of Main Street. As usual, when it gets bad, it’s just usually us, Fantail’s and Dot’s that manage to stay open.”

“I suppose your being open is pretty helpful for the people who need gas,” Ethan said.

“Yeah. But it seems as if a storm like this blows some strange folk in. I had two odd ducks stop by just before I came here. They asked whether I’d seen some woman. I hadn’t, of course. Nobody is out today. Anyway, they filled up their tank, bought four packs of cigarettes and a couple cans of oil. Last I saw, they were headed out of town although I don’t know where the heck they think they’re going to get to. They had a big four-wheel-drive vehicle but even those things get stuck in this kind of snow. Someone will probably find them next spring upside down in one of the gullies.”

One could only hope. Ethan took his change from Jaylene and grabbed the white plastic sack. “Thanks very much.”

He walked back to Dot’s. The diner was empty and Roxy was sitting at the counter, reading a magazine.

“Get what you needed?” she asked.

“Yes.” He glanced at the television, which Roxy had turned up loud since there were no customers. The newscaster was droning on about the first blizzard of the season. The interstate was still closed and they were asking everyone to stay off all other roads, that emergency crews were not able to respond.

“It’s bad,” she said. “Snow like this always makes it seem as if time has stopped because the world sort of just shuts down.”