Fight or Flight (22 page)

By the time Tyler showed up at the house, Regan was running on the residue of fumes. She sat on the couch, propped up by Van on one side and Tom on the other, both as exhausted as she was, if not more. Van had sobbed all through her report to the sheriff’s deputies and now clung to Regan’s arm, her face buried against her shoulder. She blamed herself, of course, for going to town.

“If Kelsey had been with Tom, they’d be safe,” she’d wailed.

“If she’d been with Tom, you’d all be dead or kidnapped,” Regan had responded. She’d meant it to be reassuring, but had no energy for tact. It had sent Van into even bigger sobs.

Tom, too, clearly blamed himself. He’d been subdued but detailed in his explanation to the deputies. They’d gone to town, come back, and found men here. They’d barred themselves in the barn and gotten into the hidden room underneath the floor, but Kelsey had tricked them and locked them in. They’d heard scuffling and gunshots and tried to get out, but couldn’t. They hadn’t slept in over a day.

Over a day
. Her body had nearly reached its limit, but her brain sobbed and wailed and screamed at her to
do something.

But she couldn’t. No one had any idea where to find Kelsey, where to even start. And the authorities were no help. They didn’t believe a word she said, not even when they contacted the California State Police and got confirmation of the “incident” at the Harrisons’. Apparently by the time the police got there, all the attackers were gone. Four of Harrison’s men had died and several others were in the hospital.

Regan knew because she’d listened to the radio conversation between the sheriff’s deputy and his dispatcher, who’d acted as go-between in the absence of a working phone out here.

So she didn’t know what her next move was going to be. Her body and brain screamed for sleep, but she couldn’t let another minute pass without trying to get her daughter back.

“Sir, you can’t come in here.”

Regan realized her eyes were closed and forced them open. Tom went stiff beside her. Van didn’t move, and Regan thought she might have fallen asleep.

“This is my house,” said Tyler, out of sight on the porch.

“Let me see some ID.” There was a pause, a brief conference by the deputy standing guard outside and his superior officer, and then Tyler entered looking just as worn out and afraid as she felt. His eyes locked on hers, sorrow and regret and fear and love all conspiring to draw her to him so they could comfort each other.

Then her memory caught up to her emotions. She launched herself at Tyler so abruptly that Van cried out.

“You bastard!” Regan registered shocked faces on the deputies she passed, another cry from Van, and Tom shouting her name. Then she slugged Tyler so hard he went down like a felled tree.

Luckily for him, that was all she had in her. She dropped to her knees beside him, cradling her fingers in her left hand while he rolled to his side and wiggled his jaw.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

Regan started to cry. Not Van’s sobs, but inevitable, relentless tears. She’d wanted him to have an explanation, not an apology.

“Why, Tyler?”

But he didn’t get a chance to respond. A deputy hauled him to his feet, holding him up off the floor by his collar. Tom gently helped Regan up and held her against his chest. She could feel his glare at Tyler even though she couldn’t see his face.

“What’s happening here, Ms. Miller?” asked the deputy.

“Nothing.” She shook her head, defeated. “He’s fine. I’m just—overwrought.”

“Mr. Sloane, we’ll have to ask you some questions.” He led Tyler onto the porch.

“About the weapons,” Tom guessed. The deputies had been very interested in the hidden room.

The sheriff approached. “Ma’am, we’ll take Mr. Johnson and Miss Leigh with us now. Their parents have been contacted and will meet us in town as soon as they can get here.”

Regan swiped at the tears drying on her cheeks. “They’re going to be furious,” she said.

“No,” Tom corrected. “They’re going to be impressed with you.”

Regan snorted. “I almost got you two killed.”

“The bad guys did that, and bad guys are everywhere.” Van sounded a bit like her normal self, but then slumped. “That won’t matter to my parents. They’ll take me out of school and try to keep me locked in their house forever. They’ll never let Kelsey come see me.” She turned her swimming eyes up to Regan. “You’ll let me know? When you find her? I need to knock her upside the head for leaving us here.”

“I’ll call you immediately,” Regan assured her. She gave her another hug, rocking her when Van didn’t let go. When she finally did, Tom turned her and held her shoulders, looking down at her with such intensity, Regan wanted to weep with joy for her daughter, for finding such love.

And with sorrow for the man who might have lost it.

“Don’t,” he said, apparently reading her mind. “You’ll find her, and she’ll have kicked ass. I’m not letting my parents keep me away. You let me know where you’re going, and I’m there. Don’t start arguing about Kelsey wanting me to be safe,” he added when she would have protested. “I just want to be close so I can see her right away.”

Regan nodded and managed to smile at his faith in her. “I’ll bring her to you. Thank you for everything, Tom.” She hugged him, sorry when he let her go. The tears spilled over again when she watched the kids walk away and get into the sheriff’s car.

God, she was a mess. She was in no condition to go after Kelsey, even if she knew where to go. She’d be killed in three-point-six seconds.

She managed to get back to the couch and gave in to the need to lie down. All the deputies drifted out except one who remained at the doorway and the one who interviewed Tyler. As Regan faded to sleep, she wondered if they’d arrest him for all the unregistered weapons he had stashed away.

“Babe.”

Something soft stroked Regan’s cheek, then through her hair. She murmured and turned toward it.

“Regan, sweetheart. Wake up. C’mon, you need to go upstairs to sleep. This sofa is too small.”

Don’t want to move. But do that again.

Judging by the chuckle vibrating somewhere very close by, she’d said the words out loud. The hand swept through her hair again. The fingers rubbing against her scalp were exquisite. She arched like a cat.

“Regan.”

She snapped fully awake, recognizing Tyler’s voice and understanding she should not be seduced by it or anything else belonging to him.

“Get away from me.” She sat up and shoved him back but swayed, the room spinning around her. “Whoa.”

“I know. You’re beyond exhaustion.” Tyler put his arm around Regan’s back and tried to help her up. “I’ll help you upstairs.”

“Can’t.” She couldn’t stay here. She needed to be away from Tyler. Finding Kelsey. “Kelsey. Need—”

“It’s okay.” He managed to move her toward the stairs, and she decided to cooperate. He sounded so certain, and she wanted to believe it would be okay.

“How you know?” she murmured. The stairs were in front of her, so she put a hand on the banister and started hauling herself upward.

“I know where to find her. She’ll be okay until we can get there. We can’t do anything until we’ve both rested.”

Regan couldn’t argue. After what seemed like hours, she reached the top of the stairs and made her way to the bed, not caring if Tyler joined her or not. She wouldn’t even notice.

An instant later, she was out again.

This time when she woke, she knew much more time had passed. Hours, though she wasn’t sure if it was four or twelve. She was still groggy. For a moment, she wished she could feel those first seconds of wakefulness when everything was good, normal, routine, and all she had to do was work out her schedule for the day. But nothing was all right here. Despair, guilt, desperation. Rage.

With a moan, she forced herself upright. Her shirt was twisted all around her torso. When she straightened it, the combined odors of gasoline, fried foods, and too long in the same clothes wafted over her.

O-kay. Shower first. No problem. She searched for the clock and found it on the floor. Nine-fourteen, and since sunshine burned through the thin curtains, she must have slept all night. What little had been left of it by the time the deputies were gone.

She wondered if Tyler was still here. She wanted to kill him, but she wanted to bury herself in his arms and cry, too.

Goddamn it.

When she stepped into the hall carrying a change of clothes from their last Wal-Mart stop, she smelled coffee. And bacon. Normalcy. Routine. She managed a tiny smile before heading to take a quick shower, get dressed, and tie up her hair instead of drying it.

Tyler was putting pancakes and bacon on a plate when she got downstairs. Coffee made the way she liked it already sat steaming on the table. The universe skewed for a second, showing her an alternate reality just long enough to make her crave it. Impatience banished that quickly enough. Tyler knew where her daughter was, he’d said so last night. They had to leave
now
, go get her before it was too late.

But despite the sleep she’d gotten, she was still running on empty, and he probably was, too. He was trying to take care of her.

He
was
taking care of her.

“Thank you,” she made herself say.

He didn’t look up. “Sounds kinda grudging.”

If he could only see the warmth filling her. “It is.”

He put her plate in front of her and filled another one for himself at the counter, then joined her. They ate in silence for a while, Regan waiting for Tyler to explain himself, Tyler waiting for God-knew-what. She wanted to push him, demand immediate action, and hated both being at his mercy and loving his care. She didn’t believe Tyler was working for Archie. But he had lied to her all along.

“Did you sleep okay?” he finally asked.

She shrugged. “Like I’d expect. Exhaustion makes it difficult not to, though I had some nightmares about halfway through.” She sipped her coffee and forced herself to be polite. “You?”

He shook his head. “Not really.”

“Guilty conscience?”

“Yes, but not for the reason you think.” He pushed the plate away. “I was about to explain when they came through the windows.”

The reminder of flying glass had her checking his face. The tiny cuts were starting to heal, and were so many dark lines on his cheeks and forehead. She couldn’t see the left side of his face, where she’d punched him.

Her appetite disappeared, but she made herself finish her pancakes. She needed fuel. But she also needed to get to her daughter. She couldn’t trust what Tyler had said last night, that she’d be okay until they got there. “There” could be hundreds of miles away, for God’s sake!

“Look, Tyler, we need—”

“To know what we’re heading into before we do it,” he countered firmly. “You need to know the whole story. I need you to know it,” he admitted.

“I’m listening,” she prompted. “Make it quick. They got what they want.”

“They had it by the time they attacked yesterday. I think he still wants you, though I’m not sure why.”

“Then why did we stay here last night?”

“His men are tired. He doesn’t have many, and he lost six at the Harrisons’. Plus two who went to the hospital and got arrested while they were there. They need to regroup, and he probably figures you’re out of it for now, anyway.”

“Never.”

“Well, last night you definitely were.”

“You think I wouldn’t have been able to fight if I had to?”

He wisely didn’t answer.

She shoved her empty plate across the table. “Stop dicking around, Tyler, and tell me your story.”

He drew in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “I told you I lived with my father growing up. My parents divorced when I was six. Infidelity, I think, though they never really explained. My father was my hero because he worked for the Air Force and created new ways to help people.”

Regan wanted to make a gag motion but knew it was childish. Under other circumstances she wouldn’t be so uncharitable about his childhood. But the man he had hero-worshipped had kidnapped her daughter, which curbed her sympathies.

“Can you make this a little quicker, please?”

“I went into the service because of him. I found it wasn’t exactly what he’d made it out to be, but took my own path. When I was twenty-two, he disappeared.”

“From you, too?”

He nodded.

“Did he say goodbye or anything?”

He shook his head. “I didn’t hear anything from him for about six years. Then out of the blue he wrote to me. Postcards at first, telling me he was okay and missed me. Then letters talking about his new work, and how revolutionary it would be. Vague stuff, no details. Letters became emails, and about ten years ago he asked me to visit him at his new facility.”

“What was he doing?”

“You mean the project, or contacting me?”

“Both.”

“Honestly, I think he missed me.” He toyed with the spoon next to his coffee. “Or maybe that’s just ego talking, or the angry kid he left. Maybe he just wanted someone to brag to.”

“And? What did he brag about?”

“Pretty much what Ben and Jeanne told you, except he never mentioned Kelsey. I don’t think he fully trusted me. At first he only described the immunity part of the project.” He stopped to down the dregs of his coffee. “On the third day, he showed me a ‘secret’ lab where they were going to weaponize the compound once he retrieved the part the Harrisons had kept. He got kind of manic, very old-school villain-y. It freaked me out.”

“Why didn’t you go to the military? What reason did he give for disappearing?”

“No one had ever given me any inkling he was doing anything wrong. Neither the Harrisons nor the Air Force ever came to me. Not to ask questions, not to see if I knew where he was, nothing. I wasn’t sure what he was doing was wrong. For all I knew, the Air Force was paying for it.”

She couldn’t fault him. Even the Harrisons hadn’t said their project was canceled or the Air Force didn’t want the weapon. Just that they didn’t want Archie selling it.

“So you went to the Harrisons instead.”