Deadly Vows (11 page)

T
he first bullet hit the dirt inches from Olivia’s feet. She screamed, falling backward as Ford dropped to the ground beside her.

“Run!” he yelled, grabbing her hand and pulling her with him as he zigzagged across the lush green grass of the neighboring yard.

Something snagged Olivia’s shoulder, and she stumbled, going down onto her knees and jumping up again, Ford’s hand still hard around hers.

Would they die together?

Ford, the baby and Olivia?

She refused to let that happen. The thought spurred her on, giving wings to her feet.

Ford yanked her sideways and around the corner of the neighboring house as a bullet whizzed past her ear.

She tried to scream, but the sound stuck in her throat, frozen there by terror and her gasping breath.

It was her worst nightmare come to life. Terror behind. A fence in front. Fear lodged in the hollow of her throat.

“Into the neighbor’s yard. Quick.” Ford lifted her by the waist, and she grabbed the top of the fence, tugging herself over. Not thinking about anything but escape.

Ford followed quickly, grabbing her hand again, yanking her through the next yard and the next. Then cutting through the backyard of the third. Past a large Victorian.

Was anyone following?

Olivia didn’t dare look, afraid of what she’d see. Afraid of freezing in her tracks if someone was behind them.

Beyond the Victorian, dozens of pine trees stretched up to the vivid blue sky, and Ford led Olivia there. The copse of trees butted against a steep incline and they charged up it, Olivia’s lungs and legs burning with the effort, her body shaking with fear and fatigue. Gasping, gagging, she pulled her hand from Ford’s, stopping when he would have continued.

The world spun, and she bent forward, resting her hands on her thighs as she tried to catch her breath.

They were going to die because of her. They were going to be shot under the wide expanse of the Montana sky and they were going to die.

“Are you okay?” Ford asked, his voice tight with worry.

“Fine,” she managed to gasp, straightening, starting forward again.

“You’re hurt.” Ford pulled her to a stop again.

“No. I’m out of shape and pregnant.”

“You’re hurt,” Ford repeated, pulling the fabric of her dress away from her shoulder. “Look. Blood.”

He was right. The fabric of her dress was ripped, revealing pale skin and a long furrow that seeped blood in sluggish rivulets. “It’s nothing. Come on. We’ve got to get out of here before they find us.”

“We lost them back at the house. They didn’t have enough manpower to station someone outside, or they simply didn’t bother. Either way, we win.” But Ford didn’t
sound like they’d won. He sounded anxious, worried and as ready to bolt as Olivia was.

“Just because we can’t see them doesn’t mean they’re not back there.”

“We’d better pray they’re not, because I’m taking you back down that hill, I’m knocking on the first door I see, and I’m getting an ambulance to take you to the hospital.” He tried to tug her back the way they’d come, but Olivia had no intention of leaving the relative safety of the woods. Not yet anyway.

“You’re not thinking straight, Ford. If we go to the hospital, they’ll find us there. And
kill
us.”

“We don’t have a choice.”

“Sure we do. It’s not like I’m bleeding to death. I’ve got a scratch, and it doesn’t even hurt.” Or it didn’t. Now that they’d stopped running, the wound had begun to burn, but she wasn’t going to tell Ford that.

“It’s not just you we have to think about. What about the baby? What if this affects him?”

“If you’re using that angle to guilt me into doing what you want, forget it. A wound in the arm isn’t going to hurt the baby.”

“Is that really what you think I was doing?” He asked, frowning, his eyes flashing with anger.

“I have no idea. You’re good at manipulating people to get what you want. And we both know that the last thing you’d be concerned about is my baby.” She sounded bitter, knew it and was unable to stop the words. They flowed out of all the disappointment and heartache of her marriage. Came from all the sadness that brought.

But they were still wrong, and Olivia wanted to take them back.

She opened her mouth to apologize, but Ford held up his hand. Shook his head. “Liv, this isn’t the time to discuss how you feel or how I feel. It isn’t the time to discuss anything but how we’re going to get out of town without being caught. Once we put more distance between ourselves and danger, I’ll be happy to discuss how I feel about
our
baby with you.”

She didn’t miss the subtle emphasis, but didn’t comment on it. Ford was right. They had to escape Billings. If they didn’t, there was no sense in discussing anything.

“There’s a bus station near the diner where I worked while I was in Billings. Maybe we could catch a bus out of town.”

“First we’ve got to get to the diner, and if I’m right about where we are, I think that’s across town.”

“If you’ve got your cell phone, I could call the diner. Someone there will be willing to help.”

“That would be fine if the U.S. Marshals didn’t know you’d worked there, but they do. Once they realize we escaped the safe house, it will be the first place they’ll look. I don’t know about you, but I’m done trusting them to keep you safe.”

“I feel the same,” she admitted, wondering if they’d spend the rest of the day and night wandering through the sparsely treed hills that edged Billings, trying to come up with a plan of escape.

“I think we should walk to a store, use a pay phone in case the FBI has got my cell phone tapped. There’s got to be a car rental company in the area. We’ll have a taxi take us to it.”

“If you rent a car in your name—”

“Eventually, someone will find out I’ve rented the car, but we’ll be long gone by then.”

“But—”

“I know there are a million holes in the plan, Liv, but it’s all we’ve got. We can’t wait here for the next three weeks. We can’t go to the diner, and if we get to the bus station, there’s no guarantee someone won’t be waiting for us there.”

“I know. I just…”

“What?” He asked, studying her face, his gaze sincere and focused and so much more intent than it had ever been when they were married. It was as if he were seeing her, really seeing her, for the first time in years, and that filled Olivia with a hope that she didn’t want to acknowledge.

“I’m scared.”

“Don’t be. God has kept you safe this far. He isn’t going to abandon you now.”

The words surprised Olivia.

Ford had never been one to discuss religion. Though he’d often said he believed in God, he’d never discussed that belief with Olivia. In the end, that had been one of the things that had driven Olivia from their marriage. If they’d shared the same faith, shared the same values, she might have been able to hold on to her dreams of happily ever after. But they hadn’t, and the chasm between them had seemed much too wide to ever cross.

She didn’t say any of that to Ford, just nodded. “I know you’re right, but I’ve been running for months. And I’m tired. I just want to get through the trial and start my new life.”

“You will, Livy.
We
will.” He pulled her into a brief hug, then stepped back and looked around the wooded area where they stood. The Victorian house they’d passed was just visible below them. To their left, another hill rose toward what looked like a busy community. “How about we head up the hill? See what’s there. Maybe we’ll get lucky and walk right out into a shopping mall.”

“If we do, luck won’t have anything to do with it,” Olivia said, falling into step beside Ford as he headed away from the Victorian and the safe house they’d fled.

The safe house where Jessie was.

Where Levi was.

And at least two other marshals.

The reality filled her with dread.

“They’re all back there. And they can’t be okay. If they were, they’d have been right behind us, urging us out the window,” she mumbled out loud, and Ford squeezed her hand.

“I’ve been thinking the same, but we can still hope. We can still pray. There’s a possibility they survived, Livy.”

A possibility.

But not a big one.

The thought of cheerful Jessie lying dead in a pool of her own blood, of new father Levi, lying beside her, made Olivia sick with sorrow.

Please, God, don’t let them be dead.

She wanted to cry, but didn’t dare. There was too much at stake. She couldn’t spare the time and energy needed to mourn the lives that had been lost.

Later, when they were safe, she could cry.

For now, all Olivia could do was pray for strength and peace for the families of those who had died.

“Everything will be okay, Olivia. You’ve got to keep believing that,” Ford said, gently squeezing her hand again. He hadn’t shaved that morning, and Olivia could see the shadow of a beard on his jaw. A shade darker than his hair, it gave him a scruffy look that added to the dangerous edge Olivia had noticed in Pine Bluff and again at the safe house. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he wasn’t the same
man she’d left in Chicago, wasn’t still the high-powered real estate broker with a passion for nothing more than making his next deal.

“What happened to you, Ford?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been telling me you’ve changed. I’m starting to think you have. You’re nothing like the man I walked out on fourteen months ago.”

“I hope that’s a compliment.”

“It’s an observation,” she said quickly, not wanting Ford to get the wrong idea.

Which would be what? That you’re still attracted to him? That the changes you’ve seen only make you want to see more?

“I see.”

“You see what?”

“That you don’t want to admit what you feel for me.”

“The only thing I’m feeling right now is sorrow, anxiety and fear.”

“I don’t think that’s the truth, Liv.”

“Maybe it isn’t. Maybe I do still feel something for you. But how can I know, Ford? There’s so much going on, that I can’t even think straight. I just want to get out of these woods. I want to get out of this town. I want to find a safe place where I can think about what I need to do next,” she said, her eyes filling with tears she absolutely could not shed. Tears for lost lives, lost dreams. Tears for what could be but might not ever happen.

“You’re crying,” Ford said, running a finger along her cheek and catching a tear she hadn’t realized she’d let escape.

“No, I’m not,” she lied, tamping down on the sorrow that threatened to take hold.

“Okay, you’re not,” he sighed, apparently as unwilling as Olivia to continue the discussion. “Looks like we’re coming up on a road.”

He was right. Olivia could see several buildings through the trees and could hear the quiet rumble of car engines. “It sounds like a main thoroughfare.”

“Let’s hope it is. The busier the street, the more likely we are to find a place where we can make a phone call. Hopefully, Vincent Martino’s men aren’t hanging around.”

“Do you think they will be?”

“It depends on how much they want the money.”

“What money?” Olivia asked, knowing she wasn’t going to like the answer.

“Special Agent McGraw told me there was a price on your head,” he said so calmly that Olivia wasn’t sure she’d heard him right.

“A price on my head?”

“There’s information that the Martino family has upped the amount. They’re probably hoping to avoid the hassle of having to try to get to you during the trial.”

“That’s a pleasant thought.”

“Isn’t it? So, here’s the plan. You stay here while I go find us a ride out of town.”

“There is absolutely no way in the world, I’m standing here in the woods while you go off by yourself.”

“Hear me out, Livy.”

“I don’t need to. I stayed in the church in Pine Bluff because it was a small town and I’d be noticed much too easily. Billings is different. There are plenty of people around, and I should be able to fade into the crowd without too much trouble.”

“You’d never fade into a crowd, Livy. You’re much too
beautiful for that.” Ford’s eyes burned into hers as he spoke, and Olivia’s cheeks heated.

“I don’t need compliments. I need for us to stick together.”

“And you think I don’t want the same? The problem is, we’re more of a liability together than we are apart.”

“And we’re weaker apart than we are together. Come on, Ford, you know the old adage—there’s safety in numbers.”

“There should be, but I don’t think that’s going to be the case for us,” Ford muttered, but Olivia could see that he was giving in.

It was another surprise, and Olivia filed it away. She’d take it out another time, examine it, try to figure out what it meant. Right now, though, she needed to focus on staying one step ahead of the Martino family. The Marshals. The FBI.

That was a whole lot of people she was running from.

A whole lot of people who could be standing on the other side of the woods, waiting for Olivia and Ford to come out.

She hoped they weren’t.

She prayed they weren’t.

But, one way or another, she was walking out of the woods with Ford.

“Let’s do something about your shoulder before we go any farther,” Ford said, his words pulling Olivia from her thoughts.

“I don’t have anything to wrap it with, but the bleeding has nearly stopped. I’ll just cover it.” She tried to pull the fabric closed over the wound, but no amount of tugging was going to hide the blood that stained her dress.

“I should have worn a jacket. Then we’d have something to cover that with,” Ford said as he bent to get a better look, his hair brushing Olivia’s face, the silky softness of it reminding her of the early days of their relationship, when
touching Ford’s hair had been a novelty she’d thought she’d never get tired of.

She hadn’t, but the joy she’d taken in that simple freedom had died a little more with each new hurt and disappointment.

She took a step back, turning away so that Ford couldn’t see the sadness she knew was in her eyes. For almost four months, she’d been telling herself that she was better off without him. That a clean break was exactly what they both needed. She’d almost believed it. And then he’d walked back into her life, and all the feelings, all the longings were still there, simmering beneath the surface, threatening to consume Olivia again.