Colder Than Ice (25 page)

“It's my job to put my life in danger.”

“You have a son to raise.”

“And you have a daughter.”

“I'm not raising my daughter. I'm not even in her life except for phone calls and e-mail.”

“You can be, once Young is behind bars where he belongs.”

“That's not your—”

“Enough, Beth.” She flinched at the words, and Josh got to his feet as he said them. “I'm here, and I'm staying until this thing is finished. Period.”

She pursed her lips, lowered her head. He was making a whole lot of progress in winning her trust, she thought, and a little shiver raced up her spine. She didn't want to trust him. Didn't want to put herself in that precarious a position with any man ever again, loving and trusting to the point where common sense and her own mind failed her, and the love and trust became the controlling force. Where the voice of the man overwhelmed her own inner-speak, until she couldn't hear herself anymore.

That's how it had been with Mordecai.

But Joshua was nothing like Mordecai. He said he wouldn't leave her until this was over. And even though she didn't want to, she believed it. She believed
him.

She swallowed her fears and let herself accept that, like it or not, she trusted this man.

“I should shower. Shelly Bryce is supposed to come by this morning to cram for a second period English test. Though given the situation, I should probably cancel.”

She saw the way his face changed, the way he averted his eyes all of a sudden. “Maybe you won't need to,” he said.

She frowned, studying him. But before she could ask what he meant by that, the telephone rang. Beth got to her feet and crossed the kitchen, picked up the telephone and brought it to her ear. “Hello?”

“Hi, Ms. Slocum. This is Mrs. Bryce, Shelly's mom.”

Slanting a look at Josh, Beth wondered how he could have known. “Hi, Mrs. Bryce.”

“I'm afraid Shelly won't be coming by this morning.”

“I hope she's not ill.”

“No, I just, uh…well, I decided against letting her skip first period to study for that test.”

Beth blinked. “But she said she only had study hall first period.”

“Yes, well…the thing is, we've decided to drop the tutoring altogether.”

“Oh.” She was being fired. She had no idea what to say. “I hope you haven't been unhappy with my work, Mrs. Bryce. Kelly's grades have come up significantly since—”

“Yes, I know they have. Frankly, Ms. Slocum, we're concerned about more than just our daughter's grades. And…well, it really doesn't matter now, does it? We've made our decision. Have a nice day.”

She hung up the phone before Beth could get another word in. Beth just stood there for a moment, staring at the receiver in her hand, and looking again at Josh. “You knew about this?”

He nodded.

“How? What's going on, Josh?”

“Bryan heard some of the other kids talking. Seems there are some wild rumors being spread around town.”

“Rumors. About me?”

He nodded.

“What kinds of rumors?”

“Drug abuse, mostly. There's some suggestion that you may have gotten on the wrong side of some dealer, who decided to blow up your house in retaliation.”

She closed her eyes. “So I should expect more calls like that one.”

“People are idiots,” he said, rising from the table, coming across the room to her and sliding a hand over her shoulders.

“I can't blame them. After all, I'm the mysterious stranger with no past. The teacher who won't take a job at the local school. Secretive, hermitlike. This is the first plausible explanation anyone has come up with.”

“And the most ludicrous one anyone could think of.”

“You can't blame them for wanting to protect their kids. God, if they think some criminal is after me—” She stopped there, looked up at him slowly. “Actually, there
is
some criminal after me. They're right to keep their kids out of the cross fire.” She sighed. “It's not just this one student, is it, Josh?”

He shook his head slowly. “Bryan didn't think so.”

“It's for the best. But what am I going to do? The workers are supposed to start on this place tomorrow. Everything I have in savings is earmarked for the renovations. Hell, I put a good chunk of it down already. What am I going to live on?”

“What I don't understand is how a rumor this insane got started.”

“Mordecai,” she whispered. “Who else?”

“I thought the same thing at first, but that doesn't make any sense. Why would he want to ruin your reputation like that?”

She lowered her head, staring at the floor. “He has a reason. Everything Mordecai does has a reason. It's all part of whatever he's up to.” Swallowing the lump that rose in her throat, she lifted her eyes again. “Maybe he's trying to take away everything I have, as well as everyone I love, before he finally kills me.”

“He's not going to kill you. And this gossip fiasco isn't going to work, either.”

The telephone rang again. She recognized the number on the caller ID screen. Another of her students. She looked at the phone, then at him. “I think it already has, Josh.”

 

Josh put in a call to Arthur as soon as Beth was busy elsewhere in the house. And Arthur's first words were, “Has Mordecai made contact?”

Josh pursed his lips, frowning as he recalled Beth's earlier warning—that he trusted this man too much. “Not directly. What I'd like to know is how you knew he would find her.”

“What do you mean, Josh? It's always been a risk.”

“Yeah, but this is a little too coincidental to be for real. Beth's been living out here for a year without so much as a ripple. Now, a few days after you send me to protect her, he tracks her down? Come on. Don't mess with me, Art. You knew this was coming.”

Arthur hesitated before replying. “I got a tip that a convict, Young's former lawyer, might have had some idea where Beth was hiding out,” he admitted.

“How?”

“Newsclipping. Photo that caught her by accident. She was
watching some town event last fall. Harvest parade, something like that. Goddamn bad luck.”

“But the guy's in prison, isn't he? You could've had him watched, had all his outside contact monitored—”

“Did that, son. But he didn't try to get word out that way.”

“Then how—”

“He escaped.”

Josh closed his eyes slowly. “Jesus Christ, Arthur, why the hell didn't you move Beth the second you learned about this?”

“Because she wouldn't have gone. And because…I thought we could get him, all right? I thought we could get this son of a bitch Mordecai Young at last.”

“Using Beth as bait?”

“I sent you to protect her.”

“I brought my
kid
with me, Arthur! You put my son at risk, and you didn't even bother to tell me. If I'd known Mordecai knew where she was…”

“I didn't know you had your son with you, Josh. Not until after you took the job. It had been years since we'd been in touch. Last I knew, Bryan was living with your ex in California somewhere.”

That much, at least, was true. “You should have told me the truth,” Joshua said. “You should have given me all the information. Instead of using me—and
her
—to try to blot out the only stain on your career.”

“Not on my career. On my soul.” Arthur Stanton drew a raspy breath. “And I thought you'd appreciate having the chance to right some old wrongs of your own.”

“I don't appreciate you putting my son's life in danger. Or mine. Or Beth's all over again. She doesn't deserve this. Hell, an innocent woman has been killed because of what you did.”

“One more on an already crowded list,” Arthur said softly. “Is Bryan safe?”

“I shipped him back to the West Coast yesterday.”

Arthur sighed. “Do you want to move Beth Slocum?”

“Damn straight I want to move her.” He could hear Beth now, upstairs in her bedroom. Hard rock pounded from the clock radio as she moved, no doubt working out yet again. “But I'm not sure I can convince her to go.”

“I'm coming out there.”

“You don't have to—”

“Yeah, I do, Josh. I've screwed up too many times. I'm the one who needs to fix this, and I think you know that. You just keep the woman alive until I get there, huh? I'll be there tonight, Josh.”

He disconnected, leaving Josh with a dead telephone in his hand and a feeling of betrayal gnawing at his chest. But the anger overwhelmed everything else. He was furious at his old friend for using Beth this way. Furious. Maybe a little more so than made sense; maybe he was buying into his role as her lover a bit too deeply. But knowing it didn't make the anger go away.

If he'd been face-to-face with Arthur just now, he thought, he would have decked him. The man he admired most in the world. He would have hit him, laid him out.

He was too close to this job. Things were getting confused in his mind; he was letting the act, the role, the job, get all mixed up with his real feelings of guilt and admiration and attraction. It was a dangerous thing to let happen, and he told himself he'd damned well better get a handle on it—and soon.

B
eth slipped out of the house while Josh was on the phone. It probably wasn't a very nice thing to do, because it would worry him to death should he discover her gone. And with Mordecai in town, it wasn't a very safe thing to do, either, so she took the derringer with her, tucking it into the back pocket of her jeans.

She slipped out the back door without making a sound, and walked over the back lawn and into the woods. Brilliant sunlight gave way to cooler shadows once inside the trees. The vivid leaves were thinning now, turning to brown and carpeting the trail so that her footsteps crackled.

Beth told herself, as she always had, that she would have to face Mordecai sooner or later. She would far rather that showdown come when she was alone—when Josh wasn't standing in the cross fire. She told herself that. But she knew it was a
lie. She would feel far, far safer if Josh was by her side. But that was selfish, not to mention foolish. She was in no position to let herself become needy or dependent. No one could end this but her. When the time came, she would face Mordecai alone.

But she really hoped this wouldn't be the time. She had another mission in mind, one far more important.

She'd changed into a pair of well-worn jeans, a T-shirt and a hooded sweater, and traded her shoes for suede hiking boots. It wasn't a cold day, though the breeze that found its way among the trees to ruffle her hair carried the bite of autumn. By the time she made her way to the narrow winding stream and the path that ran alongside it, she was wishing she had come out here more often. The spot between the path and the stream had been one of Maude's favorite places. There was a park bench there, a bird bath, a feeder hanging from a tree and a miniature pond, fed by the stream itself. In the summer, she and Maude had their tea out there more often than not. One time a deer had been sniffing along the banks of the stream and come within ten feet of them.

Her heart ached with missing Maude. She hoped with everything in her that the wonderful woman was at peace, maybe with her beloved Sam in some heavenly paradise.

It wasn't a long walk into town. Long enough, though, that Josh would have plenty of time to realize she was missing and to come looking for her before she reached her destination. It worried her. But she would be quick. What she had to do wouldn't take long.

She emerged from the woods and onto the road, where a narrow, ancient, one-lane bridge spanned the tiny stream, and picked up her pace as she headed into town, gripping the small envelope she carried in one hand. Finally the town's store
fronts, rows of green-and-white awnings and perfect sidewalks spread out before her. She glanced up and down the road, eyeing every one of the three vehicles that drove past as she walked. She watched the face of every passerby on the sidewalk, jumped every time a shop door opened with a jingling of bells. The town wasn't too full today. It was a weekday, and the leaves were past their peak. The tourists were beginning to thin out a bit.

Finally she went through the door that read
Blackberry Gazette.

The office of the small-town newspaper was tiny. Three reporters and a receptionist occupied the space, and one of the reporters was also the managing editor, a sixty-something widow who had taken over the paper when her husband had passed away years ago. Another was Eric Lewiston, a reporter with a career behind him at far more prestigious papers, who had retired to Blackberry a few years back. The writing bug wouldn't leave him alone, so he'd taken it up again for the small paper. No rat race. No pressure.

“I'm here to see Mr. Lewiston.”

The receptionist looked up with a smile—one that froze in place as soon as she saw who was standing there. “Aren't you Beth Slocum?”

“No. I'm not, not really. My real name is Marcum. Elizabeth Marcum. I'd like to talk to Mr. Lewiston about that and a few other things, actually. I have an exclusive for him that's going to rock the whole town.”

 

Bryan came awake with a start, only to see Dawn leaning over him, looking sympathetic. “You slept in that chair all night?”

He sat up slowly, looking around the motel room. TV, twin beds, window that was way too big, and only one exit. The back of his neck hurt when he moved it, and his back ached a little. He ran a hand over his nape. “The idea was to stay awake in this chair all night. If I'd planned to sleep, I'd have done it in the bed. I guess I blew it around 4:00 a.m.”

She heaved an expressive sigh. “You didn't have to do that. He didn't follow us.”

“How can you be sure of that? And hell, with his…abilities, how do you know he'd even
have
to follow us to know where we are?”

He watched her face. She averted her eyes, unable to even drum up an argument. Instead she said, “Hell, Bry, if he knew where we were, staying awake all night watching for him wouldn't do us any good anyway.”

“Oh, that's reassuring.” He rolled his eyes, got to his feet and stretched, arching his back and pressing his hands to the small of it to work out the kinks. “What the hell are we going to do about this, Dawn?”

“I've been thinking about that all night. I think we have to tell someone. I mean, he's a wanted felon. If the authorities know where he is, they'll go arrest him, and that will be the end of it.”

He nodded. “So we call the police, just like I wanted to do last night.”

She shook her head firmly. “No. That would be a huge mistake. This is a small town, Bry. They couldn't handle him by themselves. They'd only tip him off, and he'd end up getting away. That's why I was against calling them last night.”

Bry paced across the small room, his stomach growling. “He's one guy.”

“Yeah, and he's managed to get away from the FBI, the ATF and every other government agency that's tried to take him in. God, I wish I had Jax's number.”

“Jax?”

“Lieutenant Jackson. She was one of the cops who helped track him down last time, when he'd kidnapped me. She was really good. I'd rather have her here than the FBI
and
the ATF.”

“TTB now,” Bryan said.

“Huh?”

“The ATF is the TTB now. Alcohol and Tobacco Tax and Trade Bureau.”

She frowned at him. “How do you know that, Bryan?”

He shrugged. “It's a guy thing. We're into that stuff. I'm starved. You think it's safe to venture out for some breakfast?”

“No. But I don't think it's any safer not to, so we may as well.”

He nodded. “You want to shower up first?”

“You can take the first one if you want.”

He shook his head. “I took one last night while you were sleeping. Figured that way I could leave the door open so I'd hear if anyone tried to get in.”

She smiled slightly. He didn't know why. Then she hugged his neck without warning, grabbed her overnight bag and headed into the bathroom.

He spoke to her again through the closed door, trying to keep his voice nonchalant. As if her tender hug hadn't sent his pulse through the roof. “So if we can't call the cops and you don't have your friend Jax's number, who are we going to call?”

“Beth has a government contact. The guy in charge of keeping her safe. He's the only one I can think of.”

He nodded slowly. “You mean Arthur Stanton?”

“You know about him?” She sounded shocked.

“He's the man who hired my father. Actually, contacting him with all this isn't a bad idea. Do you have
his
number?”

“No. But Beth does. Hell, she might have Jax's, too. We're gonna have to get back inside the house, go through her stuff and find it.”

He heard the water crank on, raised his voice higher. “What stuff? Everything she had went up with her house.”

The door opened, and Dawn peered out. He could only see her from the neck up, and he got a little breathless wondering what she was wearing and guessing it was probably just a towel. “Not her purse. Or cell phone. They'd have been with her wherever she was. Right?”

“I guess so.”

“So if she had the numbers, that's where they'd probably be. In a little address book in her purse or programmed into her cell.”

“So we're going back to Maude's house?”

“We'll slip in while they're out running. You have a key, right?”

“Uh, no. Dad replaced the locks just before I left. Probably didn't see any need to give me one, since I'm not supposed to be here.”

She bit her lower lip. “I'll figure something out.” She closed the door.

“Yeah, that's what I'm afraid of,” he muttered.

Two minutes later the bathroom door opened again, and this time, when her head popped out, her hair was dripping. “After we eat, we'll go stake out the house.”

“Stake out the house?”

She nodded. “We'll just watch the place until they leave, and then find a way to get in.” Her head vanished, and the door closed again.

Great, he thought. “So while trying to avoid my dad seeing me still in town, I'm going to keep him within sight all day.”

“Speaking of your dad,” she yelled above the shower spray, “you'd better call him, don't you think?”

He looked at his watch, wondering if his father would believe he'd gotten up before 7:00 a.m. West Coast time. “Okay.”

 

“Hello?”

“Hey, Dad. It's Bry. Just wanted to check in.”

Josh smiled at the sound of his son's voice on the telephone. “I'm glad to hear from you, son. How was the flight?”

“Completely uneventful.”

“Well, boring is a good thing in this case.”

“Yeah.”

“Bet Mickey was glad to see you, huh?”

“That's an understatement.”

He nodded, missing his son with an ache that gnawed at his chest. It was beyond the way he'd missed Bryan before. Hell, he'd spent most of his life missing the boy. But now it was different. Bigger. Deeper, somehow. He felt as if one of his vital organs were three thousand miles away.

“So how's the weather there, Bry?”

“Oh, you know California weather. It's always the same.”

“Yeah. So you have everything you need?”

“Yep. I'm all set.”

“Great. Then I'll say so long for now. I miss you, Bryan.”

“I miss you, too, Dad.”

“It won't be for long, I promise.”

“I know.”

Josh sighed. Then, “So can I speak to Mr. Malone?”

“Mr. Malone?”

“Mickey's dad?”

There was a hesitation. Then Bryan said, “Uh, he's not here. But you can talk to Mrs. Malone, if you want.”

“Fine. That'll be fine.”

Josh looked around the house, frowning at how quiet it was. He wondered if Beth had decided to take a nap. Then, finally, a woman's voice came on the line, though it was raspy and hoarse.

“Hello?”

“Janet? Gosh, you sound terrible.”

“Oh, I've picked up a cold. It's not as bad as it sounds.”

“I should hope not. I, uh—I just wanted to thank you and Mark for taking Bryan for me on such short notice.”

“Don't be silly. We love having him.”

“I do, too. I hated having to send him to you, Janet, believe me. It's killing me.”

“You miss him that much, huh?”

He sighed. “It's like someone pulled out my heart. If this wasn't absolutely necessary, I swear—”

“We understand.”

“It won't be for long. A few days, a week at most.”

“That's fine. Don't worry about a thing.”

“Can't help but worry. I'm the farthest thing from father of the year. I've probably messed the poor kid up as much as losing his mom did, but I'm trying my best.”

“From where I'm sitting, I'd say you're doing fine.”

“Thanks, Janet. You know where to reach me?”

“Sure. Take care…Josh.”

“You, too.”

Josh hung up the phone, frowning, focused more on the silence in the house around him than on the oddness of that
phone call. He walked slowly up the stairs, expecting to find Beth in her room, but when he peered into her bedroom, she wasn't there. The bed was made, hadn't been disturbed. She hadn't been napping, then.

“Beth?”

He moved from room to room looking for her, growing more afraid with every echoing nonanswer. Nothing. She was not in the house.

Jesus. His heart jumped into his throat, choking him. He ran to the front door and out onto the porch, calling her name. Her car was still in the driveway, right beside his pickup. Hurrying around to the side of the house, he checked the back lawn but again, saw no sign of her.