His to Take (31 page)

L
IKE the battlefield?” Joaquin asked.

“Yes.” She explained her memories to him, and as she did, the pictures in her head
became much clearer. “We left the battlefield in the early afternoon. I remember my
siblings were hungry for lunch, and Viktor was frustrated with everyone wanting to
leave before he’d seen every inch of the place.”

“Civil War buff?”

She shrugged. “I don’t think so. He seemed more interested in the grounds than the
exhibits.”

“Like he was looking for a place to bury his research?”

“It’s possible. But why on federal land?”

“Maybe because if he could get it buried there, he thought it would be safer. Again,
we’ll never know. But you think he abandoned the plan?”

Bailey nodded. “He was in a fit, but he relented. We grabbed some fast-food burgers
and kept driving. We didn’t stop for a couple of hours.”

“Before the sun set?” When she shrugged, he rephrased his question. “Do you remember
from what side of the car you could see the sun?”

Bailey tried to picture that drive. It was hard when so many memories from that time
in her life flooded in, both simultaneous and incomplete. “We spent so many days in
the car during that trip, I don’t know for sure if I’m remembering the right leg.
But I don’t think Viktor was wearing his sunglasses. And the backseat seemed hotter
than normal, like the sun was beating down on us.”

Joaquin grabbed the map from his backpack and knelt, spreading it out. He pointed
to a spot. “Here. So from southern Pennsylvania, you traveled east? Do you remember
how long you were in the car?”

She shook her head. Her hazy memory was so frustrating. Latching on to the bits she
recalled was of life-and-death importance. Yet she didn’t really know the details
Joaquin needed.

She wrinkled her brow, deep in concentration. “I think I remember my parents snapping
at one another because they arrived at the campsite as dark was falling. My birth
mother complained they’d have just an hour or two to set up, and that wasn’t enough
time.”

“So . . . some place less than three hours east from Gettysburg. Some place near a
lake. Shit,” he cursed. “I don’t think this map is as detailed as I need.” He tossed
the paper map aside and pulled up another map on his mobile. “The screen on my phone
is awfully small. A computer would be really fucking helpful about now.”

“Why not call someone who can help you?” she suggested. “Sean or Hunter. Even Kata.”

Joaquin paused. “I usually work alone, but . . . yeah. Good point.” He flipped through
his recent calls, punched a button, then engaged his speakerphone. Within seconds,
a male voice picked up on the other line. “You okay there? Kata is worried about you.”

Hunter. Bailey smiled to herself. The former SEAL would definitely get quick answers.

“Fine. Tired and in need of decent food but otherwise alive. I don’t think anyone
is following us, but I’ll keep looking.” Joaquin filled his brother-in-law in on everything
Bailey had remembered at the house and again this morning. “So I need a lake in eastern
Pennsylvania or the tip of northern Maryland. Can you rattle off a few? I’m also looking
for anything that might have a fence painted green near a park around the lake.”

“That’s going to be hard to find,” Hunter commented. “Let me look at some travel sites
and maps online.”

A few minutes passed in relative silence. Anxiety ate away at Bailey’s belly. What
if they couldn’t find Viktor’s research? What if they dead-ended here because she
couldn’t remember anything more?

“Got a few possibilities for you here, though I don’t know if any have a green fence.
That will take more digging. The most likely suspects seem to be Memorial Lake, Locust
Lake, Crystal Lake, Lake Pocono. If you’re just looking for a body of water, don’t
forget the Susquehanna River, the North East River, the Delaware River. Damn, there’s
so fucking many of them. Still looking . . . Lake Beltzville, Lake Harmony, Lake—”

“That’s it!” Bailey insisted, her heart in her throat as a jolt of recognition rattled
down her spine. “It’s coming back now. We arrived at the campground just before evening.
Remember I said that my parents argued? My brother quipped something to us kids like
‘So much for Lake Harmony.’”

“That would fit,” Hunter confirmed. “The drive from Gettysburg would be less than
three hours. Let me see if I can find anything about a green fence.”

“Tell you what,” Joaquin said. “You look. Bailey and I have to leave here. It’s past
checkout time and I don’t want to stay in one place for too long and give anyone an
easy way to find us. We’ll hop in the car and head for Lake Harmony. If you come up
with anything else or can figure out exactly which part of the lake that fence might
be in, call me. Hopefully, we can put some of this mystery to bed soon.”

Hunter agreed, and the men rang off. Joaquin turned to Bailey with a determined look
on his face. “Let’s go. I have a gut feeling we’re getting closer.”

Bailey did, too. But she didn’t necessarily like it. The nagging fear that had been
plaguing her for too long swelled in her throat until she nearly choked. But what
choice did she have?

“All right.” She blew out a breath. “First, where’s that protein you promised?”

He nodded. “I saw a twenty-four-hour pancake place on our way in. Will eggs do?”

Eggs sounded perfect. “Absolutely.”

Less than two minutes later, they were gone. Bailey noticed the man she’d seen yesterday
still wearing his hoodie. Today, he hung out in the lobby as they passed, engrossed
in his morning paper. If he wasn’t here to follow her or spy on the cheating wife
she’d witnessed, what had brought him here? Could be anything. After all, people with
their own business and lives filled this hotel.

Outside, the day was clear, chilly, breezy. They hopped into the SUV, and Joaquin
maneuvered onto the road. Within moments, they blended in with the traffic, until
they pulled into the mostly empty parking lot.

After nice plates of eggs, bacon, and fruit, they eased back into the vehicle and
onto the road. Belly happily full, Bailey lost herself in thought. If they found Viktor’s
research at this lake, then what? Would Joaquin send her back to her ordinary life
and return to his own? Or were they simply too entwined now to part?

She glanced over at his strong profile, blade of a nose, full lips, enviously long
lashes. He seemed focused on the road with an occasional glance back in the rearview
mirror. Tension rolled through him. Joaquin had done an exceptional job of hiding
it previously, but now she felt the gut-knotting tightness hanging in the air.

“Tell me. Best-case scenario if we find this research?”

“We turn it over to the feds. I don’t know after that. Maybe LOSS stops looking for
you if they know you no longer have what they’re seeking. Maybe we have enough to
convict McKeevy.”

“Worst case?”

“Witness Protection maybe. That’s if LOSS doesn’t find you first, of course. But I’m
going to do everything in my power to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

“I know.” And Bailey did.

When Joaquin had first abducted her, she hadn’t trusted him for a moment. He’d drugged
her and taken her from the comfortable and familiar, then he’d forced her to look
under the façade her adopted parents had given her and truly see herself. She’d hated
him for it. How had everything changed in less than three days?

“I know those are terrible options,” he murmured.

They were, but they didn’t shock Bailey. “So there’s a very slim chance I come out
of this with a normal life?”

He hesitated, gripped the steering wheel. “I’d love to say it’s both possible and
likely, but I’d be lying to you.”

Now probably wasn’t the time to ask about this, but there might not be a later. “What
if I’m pregnant?”

“We’ll deal with it, whether you have to testify against members of LOSS the feds
can convict or we’re in Witness Protection.”

Bailey’s jaw dropped. “But if you came with me, you’d be giving up your family, probably
for the rest of your life.”

“A week ago, that wouldn’t have fazed me at all. Now . . . yeah, it would bother me
not to see my mother again or meet her new husband or hold Kata’s baby. But I’d still
choose you.”

His words yanked on her heart until her chest felt ready to implode. In every way
except verbally, Joaquin had told her that he loved her. The sentiment warmed every
bone in her body.

I love you, too.

The miles and the minutes dipped by. Highway 15 became something else, then they dumped
onto Interstate 81 on the outskirts of Harrisburg. From there, they continued northeast,
through some deeply scenic territory. Even a few weeks ago, the trees would have looked
nearly bare—the ravages of winter taking their toll. Now most spouted the makings
of rebirth. Small and tentative and green, the leaves would soon grow and bloom, filling
the trees with life again until the next season browned and felled them in preparation
for winter once more. The circle of life, she supposed.

Bailey wished she knew where her circle was headed. Hopefully not for an early grave.
Or decades of loneliness.

Joaquin veered onto Interstate 80 next, and she swore things were beginning to look
familiar.

“We’re not far. Do you need a restroom break?”

“I could use one. And maybe more caffeine.”

“Ditto.” They exited and found a fast-food joint, now dead in the middle of the afternoon.

Bailey turned and saw a silver sedan. Had she see that same car at the hotel? Or was
she being paranoid?

“See that car parked at the edge of the parking lot?” she asked him without looking
at the vehicle in question, just in case.

Joaquin had the same idea. “The grayish one. Yeah. I’ve seen him a few times. He seems
to stop when we do.”

A faint sense of unease became full-on fear. “Do you think—”

“I don’t know. The one thing that’s keeping me from being too suspicious is that they
kidnapped the other victims, then asked questions. I can’t think of a reason they’d
change their M.O. with you.”

She bobbed her head, conceding his point. “We’re headed to the Poconos. It’s a vacation
destination. Maybe he’s looking to get away for a few days. We
are
stopping pretty close to the highway.” She tried convincing herself. “Maybe he has
the same ideas about where to eat and pee.”

“We’ll find out.”

*   *   *

WHEN they piled back in the SUV to drive the last half hour to the lake, Joaquin watched
the silver car. As they pulled back onto the highway, it remained empty and in the
parking lot. He relaxed. A red truck and a white hatchback soon pulled onto the highway
with them. He kept a cursory glance on the vehicles while trying not to worry what
fate had in store for Bailey’s future.

For the first time in his adult life, he wanted more than work. He saw the point of
coming home to one woman. He’d be thrilled to have a rug rat with her and make certain
he or she didn’t grow into a defiant teenager. It scared the hell out of him, but
he wanted roots and a future with Bailey.

What if LOSS found her and ended that future before it could begin? What if she died
while growing the life they’d created together inside her?

The thought made him homicidal and filled him with paralyzing terror at once. Just
imagining what it would be like to lose her and the family they might have begun gutted
him.

Joaquin reached over and squeezed her hand, reveling in her warm, soft skin. He needed
to assure himself that she was well and whole. As he glanced her way, he noticed she
looked awfully nervous, too.

“You all right?”

“Evading antigovernment loons isn’t exactly as much fun as hanging out with a few
friends and sharing a bottle of wine, but I’m managing.”

He sent her a faint smile. “Anything look familiar?”

“Not any one thing in particular. I just remember thinking the road up to the lake
was a beautiful place. But I’m sure time has changed things.”

“Of course.”

“And the seasons. It was probably October when we came. I remember lots of fall colors.
But now, spring is budding.”

“I know. Just keep watching for anything that seems familiar.”

A moment later, Joaquin’s phone rang. He pulled it from the console and glanced at
it before pressing a button to enable the speakerphone. “Hunter?”

“Yeah. It’s taken me a while, but I’ve got some answers for you.”

Joaquin’s guts knotted up. “Hit me.”

“I found a few possibilities. The one that seems most likely is a campground that
closed about six years ago. One of the local sporting goods places I called and played
dumb with said he remembered a green fence near a dock. Someone else bought the place
a few years back and started fixing it up. They’ve opened the main structure on the
grounds as a restaurant. I’ll text you directions.”

When Joaquin’s phone dinged a minute later, he thanked Hunter. “We’ll see what we
can find. I’ll keep you posted.”

“Knowing you had your hands full, I called Sean to advise him that you might be onto
something. He’s alerting the FBI in Philly. They’re going to have agents on standby.
Call this number I’ll text you next if you find anything. They’ll get to you in less
than an hour.”

Another little ding sounded. “Thanks.”

“No problem. I wish you had some backup. I’d feel better if you had more than one
set of eyes on Bailey.”

Joaquin’s first instinct was to bristle, but he knew Hunter only spoke from a position
of caution. “When we left, I wasn’t sure what we’d find, if anything. Now we can’t
afford to wait.”

Hunter grunted like he didn’t want to agree but couldn’t argue the point, either.

“Besides,” Joaquin went on. “Staying in Dallas wasn’t an option with McKeevy all set
to help at Callie’s wedding.”

“Maybe not. The photographer who hired him said his new assistant stopped answering
calls, so he left a message telling ‘Timothy Smith’ that he was fired. Sean and a
few feds went to his known address, but it turned out to be a dump—literally. He listed
some city’s garbage facilities as his home.”