A Man Like Morgan Kane (26 page)

"It'll take weeks to get this place back to normal," she said, surveying the partially restored order of the room. "So many small things will have to be replaced and the sofa needs reupholstering and—"

"It's been less than twenty-four hours and we've accomplished a lot. We'll get it all done," Morgan said.

"One day at a time. As soon as we get things straightened out enough to suit you, we can move back in."

"I should give Mother another call and let her know we've already eaten."Bethanynodded to the empty pizza carton on the coffee table. "I should have gotten over there in time to have had dinner with Anne Marie."

"She understands how busy you've been today." Morgan guidedBethanyto the overstuffed plaid chair, sat down and pulled her onto his lap. "I believe it's a bad idea to follow through with your plans for a fashion show at the Galleria Sunday afternoon. Think about what happened to Lisa. She's lucky to be alive and recovering so well."

"I thank God that she didn't die and that she'll be out of the hospital soon."

"I don't want to take any chances of something like that happening again," Morgan said. "You're going to be front-page news for weeks, and every nut case around is going to be hounding you, especially since Eileen posted that reward."

"My mother never ceases to amaze me. I can't believe she actually gave a personal interview to Chris Hammond of the
Birmingham News
and another to that Grayson guy from the
Post Herald."
Bethany turned, slipped her arms around Morgan's neck and laid her head on his shoulder.

"I've warned her that it would be a mistake to take Tony Hayes up on his offer and be his guest on Wake Up Birmingham." Morgan kissed her temple, then rested his jaw against the top of her head.

"Just because you've warned her against doing it doesn't mean she won't surprise us all and show up on Tony's show one morning. And if she does, she'll think she's helping me in some way."

"Cancel the fashion show," Morgan said, nuzzling her ear.

"No. I can't. I refuse to give in to my fears and let what's happened in my life make me run scared." She sought his lips.

He didn't try to reason with her, telling himself that there would be time enough later to bring her around to his way of thinking. The kiss soon got out of control and they went at each other like a couple of wild animals, lost to their own primal needs

An hour later, they freshened up, dressed and locked the front door just as the security guard Morgan had hired to watch the house pulled up in the driveway. After giving the guard his instructions, Morgan hurriedBethanyto her Mercedes. It was after nine and he knew she was eager to get to her mother's and see Anne Marie. Mother and daughter had talked on the phone three times since Anne Marie arrived at her grandmother's after school, but only face-to-face contact would be enough forBethany.

"I wish we had time to stop by and see Claudia,"Bethanysaid when Morgan pulled the car out of the driveway. "But since we're already running late, I'll just phone her again. She worries about me."

"Mother's maternal attitude toward you and Anne Marie never ceases to amaze me," Morgan said.

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"Claudia is in many ways the same woman she always was, but she has changed. Losing you altered her priorities. If you'd give her half a chance, you might discover that you actually like your mother now."

When she'd talked to Claudia this morning, Morgan's mother had wanted to know if she and Morgan had discussed his return toBirminghamsixteen years ago. WhenBethanyhad told her that they hadn't, Claudia had wanted to know whenBethanywas going to tell Morgan that he was Anne Marie's father.

Soon. Very soon. Before the trial. Maybe even before the arraignment. She had kept father and daughter apart long enough. She owed it to both of them to reveal her secret. To give Morgan his daughter and present Anne Marie with the father she should have had since birth.

As close as she and Anne Marie were, as easily as she often read her daughter's mind,Bethanyhad no idea how she would react to the news that Morgan was her father. She prayed that her daughter wouldn't hate her, that she would find it in her heart to understand and forgive.

But Morgan was a different matter entirely. She had no illusions, no false hopes that he would ever forgive her.

No matter what happened, she knew what she had to do. She had no other choice. Not really. She'd kept her secret far too long. It was past time to end the lie.

"You're awfully quiet, honey." As they passed under a streetlight, Morgan stole a glance atBethany. She had knotted herself tightly in her seat and stared out the window as if in a trance.

"I was just thinking." Thinking about when, where and how I would tell you the truth about Anne Marie.

"You mean you were worrying," he said.

"You must admit that I have a lot to worry about."

"I wish I could make it all go away, every worry you have. But all I can do is keep you safe and continue trying to find out who killed Farraday." He eased the Mercedes coupe along the road, keeping to the posted speed limit. "Sooner or later, something's got to give. The real killer can't afford to sit around safe and secure. It's only a matter of time until we zero in on him or her. Dane Carmichael is running an extended check on every suspect, and I've decided to call in another agent."

Her heart jumped to her throat. "Why would you call in another agent?" Was he going to leave? After all they'd shared, could he simply walk away again?

"I can't guard you twenty-four hours a day and do all the investigating that needs to be done. I've become too personally involved to be objective, and my first priority is taking care of you. I need someone on the scene whose top priority is solving the mystery of Farraday's murder."

"But you've done everything possible to—"

"Not enough," he said sharply. "Dammit, honey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you. I'm angry with myself. I haven't acted like a professional. I've gotten too wrapped up in your life. I care too much about you and Anne Marie. I should have already called in someone else."

"Then you aren't leaving town and you won't turn your bodyguard duties over to someone else?"

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"No way would I trust your life to anyone else."

"Then the other agent will—"

"He'll do what I should have already done. Concentrate more on Farraday's murder. Somebody has got to know something. The day Farraday was shot, someone saw something that he or she doesn't even know they saw. I should have already talked to everyone who was at the station that afternoon. Dane can run a background check on every employee and still come up with nothing."

The dark road lay ahead like a curling snake, the blackness shattered only by the occasional glare of oncoming headlights. Morgan damned himself for a fool. He'd promisedBethanythat he would not only protect her but prove her innocence. And he'd already let her down by not admitting sooner that he couldn't handle this job alone. He'd call Hawk tonight and have him catch the first flight out ofAtlantain the morning.

Bright headlights from behind the Mercedes struck the side-view mirror. Morgan muttered a vulgar oath under his breath.

"I hate it when someone drives too close behind like that,"Bethanysaid. "Especially on these dark mountain roads."

"It would help if they'd dim their—"

The offending vehicle bumped the Mercedes's back end.Bethanygasped. Morgan cursed loudly, then eased his foot down on the accelerator. The car behind them picked up speed, quickly catching up with them. The driver rammed them from behind again, more forcefully the second time. Morgan gripped the steering wheel with white knuckled ferocity.

"That was no accident," he said. "Someone's playing games with us."

"What do you mean?"

Morgan tried to escape, but the faster he drove, the faster their attacker pursued them.Bethanygripped the seat with both hands. Her heartbeat drummed in her ears. Morgan maneuvered the Mercedes with expert skill, but the increased speed created havoc as he took the next sharp turn in the road.

"Someone's playing a deadly game, and we're their prey," Morgan said.

Coming up beside them, the driver slammed the side of his vehicle into the Mercedes, shoving it off the road. The white coupe skidded in the loose gravel on the shoulder. Morgan whipped the steering wheel around, cutting directly back into their attacker.

"Hang on," Morgan told her.

Bethanyheld her breath, nodding agreement, but unable to utter a single word. Fear clutched her stomach like an angry fist.

Bouncing back, the driver of the other car sideswiped them again, forcefully shoving them off the road and over the side of the embankment.

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The Mercedes went down, down, down. The beam from the headlights bobbed up and then down as the car hit rough ground. A clump of trees hovered below like giant black demons lying in wait, ready to slaughter them.

Bethanyheard herself screaming, but the sound seemed to come from a distance, like a terrified echo reverberating in the wind.

Dear God, they were going to die!

Chapter 12

«^»

Slamming his foot on the brake pedal, Morgan stopped the Mercedes only inches from the cove of trees blocking the descent down the mountainside. The headlights blasted the towering pines and the two ancient oaks, creating bizarre-shaped shadows. The sudden jolt threw Morgan and Bethany forward, the protective band of their seat belts the only barrier between their bodies and the windshield.

Bethanygulped in air at a frantic pace. Her heartbeat roared in her head like a cyclone. "Oh, dear God.

Dear God." She repeated the prayerful chant again and again.

Killing the motor, Morgan drew up the emergency brake and sat very still for a brief moment. Focusing, centering his mind, he took control. Unsnapping his seat belt, he turned toBethany. Even in the shadowy darkness he could still make out the terrified look on her face. Her eyes stared sightlessly straight ahead.

Her breathing bordered on hyperventilation. Her body shivered, the quivering slight but noticeable.

After undoing her seat belt, he ran his hands up and down her trembling arms. "Are you all right?"

Not responding by word or action,Bethanysat there like a frozen statue on the verge of crumbling into pieces.

Grabbing her by the shoulders, he turned her toward him and shook her gently. "Bethany, snap out of it.

We're safe. We didn't wreck."

"I—I thought we were going to die," she said. "What happened? Who ran us off the road?"

"Come on, honey, we need to get out of the car. I'm not sure how secure we are. I don't think the car is going anywhere, but just in case it does, I don't want us to be inside."

Reaching acrossBethany, he opened the glove compartment, removed a flashlight and then eased open the passenger's side door. "Get out, but be careful. We're on a fairly steep slope, it's dark and you could easily fall."

When she hesitated, he gave her a gentle shove and said, "Go on, honey. I'm right behind you."

Willing herself to move,Bethanyclutched her shoulder bag to her chest and climbed out of the car and onto the uneven ground. Her knees buckled. Her foot slipped on some loose pebbles. She cried out, grabbing at the darkness surrounding her. Suddenly a pair of strong arms encompassed her, lifting her before she fell, setting her back on her unsteady feet.

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"Come on, Beth." He held her firmly around the waist. "We're not that far from the road."

Turning on the flashlight, he pointed its beam toward the highway above them. The faint, narrow light cut an illuminated pathway through the high grass, weeds, scraggly shrubs and bushes. Together they climbed the slope, through the underbrush, Morgan's hold onBethanynever wavering as he guided her to safety.

When they reached the shoulder of the road, Morgan sat, pullingBethanydown with him. She was slightly winded; he wasn't even breathing hard.

The gravel gouged into her buttocks through the thin material of her cotton slacks. Reaching beneath her, she swept away a handful of rocks. Grunting as she squirmed, she settled more comfortably onto the cleared area.

Morgan jerked his cellular phone from his pocket, flipped it open and dialed.Bethanygrabbed his jacket sleeve.

"Who are you—" she asked.

"Varner? Yeah, this is Morgan Kane. Someone just ran Bethany Wyndham and me off the road up here onRedMountain. No. We're okay. Just a bit shaken. No, we don't need an ambulance. We need a wrecker and a ride home."

Bethanyclutched Morgan's arm as he listened to Detective Varner. A dozen questions bombarded her mind. Who? Why? Jimmy's killer? Because they were closer to discovering his or her identity than they realized? Or had it been someone attacking them for some other reason?

"It was no accident," Morgan said. "Somebody wanted us to plunge over the side of the mountain.

Yeah, I got a good look, but it's dark and I'm only guessing. A red Porsche. Late model."

Bethanygasped. No, it couldn't have been. Surely Morgan was mistaken. It had all happened so quickly and it was very dark on this stretch of road. How could he be sure the car that had run them off the side of the mountain was a red Porsche?

"I can't identify the driver, but I'm pretty sure about the car," Morgan said. "Yeah, I know someone who drives a car just like it."

"Morgan!"Bethanyrefused to believe it was possible.

"James Farraday. Yeah, you'll need to check it out."

Bethanyonly half listened while Morgan gave Hal Varner their location. Her mind was totally absorbed in the knowledge that the attacking vehicle had been a red Porsche. Surely it was a coincidence that James drove an identical car, a present from Eileen when he turned sixteen. She refused to believe that her young stepbrother was capable of anything so sinister.