Mary Wine (20 page)

Chapter Thirteen

“Have you felt the fetus kick?”

Dr. Moosavi asked the question. Roshelle ignored him. Instead she filled her eyes with the sight of her son’s image that the sonogram machine displayed for her. She had performed the same task countless times for her patients, yet never truly understood the depth of emotion that came with looking on that new life as it developed.

“It would be helpful if you answered my questions.”

Yes, Roshelle imagined it would. But helpful for whom was the question. This man with his hooded eyes and his saleable morals wouldn’t gain compliance from her. But her weekly checkups were extremely useful. Roshelle was able to see her child as Dr. Moosavi dutifully measured the developing baby that grew within her.

But she wasn’t about to give him any more information than his machines could provide. It frustrated the man, Roshelle could feel the emotion and it delighted her. Anger in any form could be distracting.

Snapping her attention back to her purpose, Roshelle shoved a wall up. A pair of light green eyes were watching her intently. Forcing herself to look at the sonogram monitor again, she filled her thoughts with the image it provided. Miller lost interest in her maternal emotions and put his energies into a magazine that sat in his lap.

Thyssen had almost gleefully introduced the sandy-haired boy to her. Miller was some manner of low-level psychic whose only true talent seemed to be in neutralizing all other psychic signals. The young man seemed to be very bitter about his lack of marketable talents. He detested Jared for being endowed with something that nature had denied him. He hated their unborn child for the same reason.

But he took unusual delight in performing his duties for Thyssen. He dodged her footsteps endlessly. Roshelle was never separated from him by more than twenty feet. So far he hadn’t seemed to be able to feel her abilities out. She debated the odds of attempting to contact Jared herself. The chance that Miller might identify her abilities kept her from making that attempt. Roshelle could find Jared she was certain of it, but that skill was the only card she held. She needed to make sure that her timing was perfect before she laid it on the table. While the boy’s vigil chafed, she wasn’t in any immediate danger. Time was an ally Roshelle could not afford to waste.

It was really very sad to discover more about what Jared was from his enemies. Roshelle would have preferred to hear it from him instead. Oh, there were a hundred reasons why Jared had never leveled with her. But none of those seemed to matter just now. Roshelle found herself listening to Thyssen simply because he could teach her about the man she loved.

The phone buzzed for attention. Roshelle watched Dr. Moosavi answer the electronic device. It must be moving day, again. Thyssen moved her frequently. Roshelle rarely laid her head on the same pillow two nights in a row. Except for the bunk she occupied on the small motor home that she was moved about in. The small bed was more of a cell. Most of the time they were in motion, she found herself locked into the bunk to prevent her from being seen by the other motorists on the road.

“Take her out.”

“Alone?”

Roshelle turned a menacing grin on Miller. Hesitation was written across his face in plain view. The boy was so busy resenting life he never took any time to build upon what he did have. His body was more fat than muscle. His capacity to whine about every discomfort earned him deadly looks from the armed escort that accompanied them.

“They are waiting for her now.”

The disgust in the doctor’s voice almost caused Roshelle to giggle. Instead she jumped down from the exam table and simply walked out of the room. Oh, she knew she couldn’t get far but it was so very delightful to hear Miller scramble to keep up with her.

A short nondescript hallway led her out of the building. The motor home was pulled up to a mere foot from the front door to keep any curious eyes from setting sight on her. The air was thick with smoke as the door opened. Turning her head, Roshelle noticed that their escort was completely occupied with smoking a last cigarette before their journey began. The hired guns were forbidden to smoke inside the motor home to ensure a healthy baby.

The leering grins sent her way made her step up into the vehicle herself. Rough and unkempt, their deceit made her long for Jared’s honor-serving sentries. Standing in the kitchen area of the motor home, Roshelle noticed that Miller had decided to join the smoking ring.

Her eyes began a frantic search. Her privacy would last mere minutes and it was vital that she make them count. Several weapons sat out in plain sight; she rejected them immediately. The large nine-millimeter sidearms would be missed. A kitchen knife might go unnoticed. Pulling a drawer open, she hastily selected a wicked-looking blade that she concealed under her loose maternity top.

Roshelle had no true idea just what she would do with the weapon, but it was better than nothing at all.

With one weapon secured in her grip, her eyes continued their search. She was so determined to find a weapon, she had overlooked the numerous communication devices at hand. Two cell phones sat secured to backpacks while a laptop computer was laid on the tabletop. Linked by satellite signals, all three could connect her with help.

That was if she knew whom to call.

Roshelle doubted that the local police would be any true help to her. As organized as Thyssen appeared to be, it wouldn’t surprise her to discover he could prove himself to be her legal guardian. As well as providing enough documentation to prove to any responding patrolman that she was completely insane.

Precious time was ticking away as she struggled to find any number she knew that might bring help. Jared had a cellular phone but she didn’t know the number.

But she did know his father’s! Memory exploded as Roshelle cast a look outside before she lifted one of the phones from the table. They didn’t often get criminals at the Tri-county medical center but when they did, Brice Campbell took their care personally.

Staring at the keypad, she forced her brain to recall the number. The line connected while she cast another look at the doorway. Instead of the sheriff’s voice, she connected with his voicemail. Uncertain just what to say, she muttered out what scattered bits of information she knew ‘til the line disconnected her.

Struggling with her disappointment, she erased the call log before slipping the phone back into its case. The blade of her concealed knife was cold against her skin but it provided a warm sense of hope. She had bested this bunch before and she would again.

Her baby deserved no less.

* * * * *

Jared wasn’t a stranger to colorful language but the curses that were coming from his father’s mouth still caused him to look up. With his cell phone at his ear, his father’s face reflected complete rage. Whatever message the man was listening to, it wasn’t good.

Well, that was just another penny in their bank. The tension on the mountain was tight enough to strangle a person. Without a single clue they were left to waiting for a place to begin their search.

“Jacobs!”

Brice sent his voice up the mountain in a near roar before he turned his eyes on to his son. He extended the phone out as his face betrayed a troubled torment that he would rather spare his offspring but knew he could not.

Roshelle’s voice moved over his ears as a similar curse exploded from his mouth. Why didn’t she call him? Even as he took in the details of her message, Jared faced the truth of just why Roshelle was reduced to calling his father for help. She had no idea how to contact him. Not with a phone anyway.

Both Jason and Shane came in response to his father’s shout. Jared handed the phone off as he headed for his home and his flight gear. Colonel Jacobs would have that line traced down within half an hour. Another curse hit his ears as Jason reacted to Roshelle’s plight.

Thyssen. Applying a name to his enemy brought Jared one step closer to killing him. Checking his pistol for readiness, he slid the weapon into its holster. If he were lucky, he’d get the chance to use his bare hands on the bastard.

The sight of his empty bed sobered him. The quilts were tucked into the corners and the blanket Roshelle had knitted was spread out across the foot of it. The emptiness that the blanket emphasized caused Jared to examine his priorities.

If he were lucky, he’d be able to bring Roshelle back home. Eight short weeks remained before their son was due to be born. This was not about a fight to eliminate his enemies; it was a struggle to keep his own family together.

His mission goal was to retrieve Roshelle. If Thyssen got between him and his goal, well…then Jared could give into his primal urges. If the man evaded capture, they might well have to abandon their mountain home. At the moment Jared was willing to start over at any given point on the globe as long as he did it with Roshelle. The strength of his emotions surprised him. Roshelle seemed to have merged into his very soul. The idea of not recovering her was completely unacceptable.

But the possibility of failure loomed far too close to ignore.

* * * * *

The engine came to life, causing Roshelle to grin. The door was once again slid into place to keep her from being seen. Today she intended to use that to her advantage. She’d spent hours on the bunk staring at the tiny compartment. It was nothing more than particleboard and plastic. The only exception was two long thin vents that opened to the outside to allow fresh air inside. Each vent was a mere four inches wide but both together would allow enough room for her to get out of the compartment.

That was if she could pry the fixtures from the wall of the motor home. Roshelle intended to try. Pulling her knife from its hiding spot, she applied it to the screws that held the vent in place. Not knowing just how motor homes were assembled, she wasn’t sure what removing the screws would gain her.

Working with the sharp instrument while in a moving vehicle wasn’t a wise undertaking. Her hands began to wear the marks of her frantic efforts. Wiping the blood away, she curled her hand more firmly about her tool. Her son kicked in approval as she struggled for his freedom.

The last screw pulled free, causing the entire framed unit to fall away from the wall. Roshelle stared in wonder at the three by one foot hole it left open. To her desperate eyes, it looked as wide as a barn door.

Smoothing a hand over her distended tummy, she measured the hole with her eyes. She could make it. She would make it!

Her eyes took in the road as they traveled. Luck was finally smiling on her today. They presently were winding their way along a narrow tree-studded road. The sun had long since set and her eyes didn’t detect any other cars on the road. The sharp curves of the road forced the driver to a slow pace that would decrease its pace as they neared another hairpin bend in the highway.

Roshelle refused to waste a single second considering the risks. By some miracle she was being granted this one shot at freedom. She intended to take it. Laying the vent aside, she pulled a blanket with her as she squeezed through the opening. The driver reduced his speed as he rounded another corner and she simply let go.

Her legs crumbled under her falling body weight. One ankle bitterly complained but she raised her head in time to see the taillights of the motor home disappear from sight.

It was one of the sweetest sights she’d ever seen.

Grabbing up the blanket from where it lay, she moved into the trees and the cover they could provide her. Time and distance were her greatest enemies now. Sometimes the guards would check on her, sometimes they didn’t. There was no pattern to their duty. Placing as much distance between herself and them would be her only defense.

How to do that was the question. She could try to hitchhike. Roshelle discarded that idea. Along with being dangerous, it could leave a witness to where she had gone. A lone pregnant woman hitching a ride would not be easy to forget.

But she had a more immediate problem.

Walking away from the road seemed to be the most logical course of action. But Roshelle wasn’t sure which state she was in, let alone just how close the nearest town might be. She would walk for a week if it meant deliverance from Thyssen but her sole provision was a blanket. Without water, she could end up dying in a very short time.

Pushing her way further into the trees and brush, she set a determined pace. With nightfall upon her, dehydration would not become an issue for many hours. Roshelle would just have to hope she found civilization before that happened.

Draping the blanket around her shoulders, she used the stars to guild her north. Her son firmly kicked her causing a true smile to cross her face. Her child was not for sale!

* * * * *

“Montana.”

That single word received a hard nod of approval from Jared. All they needed was a place to begin. Now that he knew who stood between him and Roshelle, he would find a way around him. Shane would already be searching for just who this Miller was. If luck were on their side then there would be a neat file on the man.

Jared was still waiting for that information when his Unit pulled away from the landing pad. All six of the black helicopters sliced into the night. Distance was the only thing working against them now. Traveling by road, there was no way for them to move Roshelle fast enough to outrun their aircraft.

Brice Campbell sat in the passenger seat as he contemplated the phone in his hand. His father’s eyes were trained on the landscape but he kept a hand wrapped firmly around the cellular device.

Sometimes a son could be grateful for the fact that apples didn’t fall far from the tree they grew on.

Americans wasted far too much food.

Today Roshelle was grateful for that truth. Rummaging among a diner’s garbage would have disgusted her normally. At the moment fending off starvation seemed far preferable to her sensibilities.

Staying free was her only goal. She had to eat or collapse. The small diner seemed the only civilization for miles about. She had walked all day and the fact that her absence must have been discovered was screaming at her to increase her speed of travel.

But first she needed to eat.

A clerk tossed another couple of bags into the dumpster before returning to the back door of the restaurant; after eighteen hours of walking even half-eaten hamburgers sounded good.

She didn’t have any money and walking into that dinner would leave plenty of people for Thyssen to ask about her. It was leftovers or nothing. Tearing the plastic aside, she investigated what might be eatable. Half-eaten sandwiches sat still wrapped in their paper while cups were still half full of ice. Pulling the plastic lid from a cup she gulped greedily at the ice. Whatever soda had been held in the cup still clung to the ice but the crystals melted inside her mouth, bringing relief to the parched tissues.

Grabbing up more of the precious cups, Roshelle went back into the forest before giving in to the need to eat. Desperation was driving her. Escape seemed within her grasp, she could not allow squeamishness to allow her to be captured again.

There would not be a second chance.

“Keep your pants on! I’m just going to take a leak. It’s a two-hour drive you know!”

A door slammed in response. Moving along the trees, Roshelle stared at the pickup truck that sat with its driving lights on while the driver impatiently waited for his companion. The bed of the truck was full of furniture. A refrigerator, sofa and other household goods sat tied down to the sides of the truck.

With its engine pointed towards the road and away from her, Roshelle measured the distance between her cover and the tailgate. Gathering up her dinner, she moved forward and crawled straight into the truck. With an end of the sofa sticking out over the bumper, that tailgate was not secured in its upright position. With all of the other furniture, there were plenty of places for her to hide.

Lying among furniture might not be the safest method of travel but for now Roshelle just smiled. She was completely hidden and a two-hour drive would gain her that distance she was lacking.

Wherever the two men were bound for might just provide her with another opportunity to protect her child.