Love Inspired Suspense January 2014 (16 page)

“I think we all knew his point before this.” Annie finally managed to speak, her throat dry and thick with fear. “He doesn't want me to testify.”

“It doesn't matter what he wants, Annie,” Serena said calmly. “We've got you tucked away where he's not going to find you.”

“Yet,” she mumbled, every thought of a new life in a new place slipping away.

“Ever,” Hunter asserted. He reached across the car seat as they pulled into his garage, took her hand, his palm warm and rough against hers. Her heart jumped in response, her pulse racing with a longing she hadn't expected to ever feel again.

She looked into his eyes, saw her surprise and longing reflected in his gaze.

“I'm going to make sure of it,” he said, the words soft and gentle, his eyes burning with a promise Annie felt in the depth of her soul.

He meant it, and not just because she was a job that he had to do.

He released her hand and opened his door. “I need to head over to the crime scene. I'll be back as soon as I can.”

He got out of the car and hurried to the SUV that was pulling into the garage next to them.

Josh got out. Hunter hopped in.

He was gone before Annie unbuckled Sophia.

“Ready?” Serena asked as she opened Annie's door.

“Sure.” She lifted Sophia and got out of the car.

Josh already had the door open, and she walked through the laundry room and into the kitchen. The place was spotless, the high chair set up near the table, a toddler's sippy cup sitting on the tray. Two books were beside it. Both with colorful pictures and different textures on each page. One squeaked as Annie picked it up, and Sophia squealed with delight.

“This will make things a lot easier,” Annie said as she buckled Sophia into the seat. “Thank you.”

“You can thank Hunter when he gets back. He didn't want us to go back to either safe house again, so he asked Burke to pick up a few things at the store. Hopefully, Burke did okay. He's not big on kids, so I'm not sure he knew what to get.”

“The books are great. And the cup.” And the fact that Hunter had thought about Sophia and her needs.

“I think he got a few toys, too. They're probably upstairs in your room. Go ahead and get what you want for dinner. I have some work to do.” She walked out of the kitchen as Josh walked in from the laundry room.

He watched Serena's retreating figure then turned to Annie. “I'm going to watch the monitors. You go ahead and do whatever you need to.”

He settled into a chair at the table, his focus on the computer monitor.

There were a lot of questions Annie wanted to ask. Most of them about the doll head that was being examined at the crime lab. She knew Josh wouldn't have any answers.

The best thing she could do was keep busy, keep focused on Sophia and on keeping her happy, healthy and safe until the trial.

It seemed as though it should be easy enough, but even as she dragged out pans and pots and ingredients and began cooking a dinner that could feed six, she couldn't stop thinking about the doll, about the men who'd taken it and the man who was using it as a threat.

She understood what was at stake for the crime syndicate that Saunders and Fiske worked for, but it seemed almost inconceivable that the men that Hunter often referred to as low-level thugs could be so important that the people they worked for would kill to keep them from going to jail.

She sighed, whisking flour and melted butter together in a pot while Sophia played with the books.

God was in control.

That was the one thing she knew for sure.

And it was the only thing that mattered.

He would get her through this the same way He'd brought her through everything else. When it was over, she'd be stronger because of it, more confident, more ready to raise her daughter alone.

Too bad the thought didn't excite her.

Too bad she'd much rather be raising Sophia with someone else.

An image of Hunter flashed through her mind, his long tan fingers touching Sophia's curls. He had a tenderness to him that she never would have imagined was hidden beneath his gruff exterior. Once she'd seen it, she couldn't deny that it was there.

She couldn't deny what it did to her heart, either.

A heart that was going to end up broken again if she wasn't careful.

The problem was, she didn't want to be careful.

She wanted to be carefree and young and completely convinced that everything would work out just fine.

Time had changed her. Circumstances had changed her. She didn't regret those changes, but there were plenty of times when she wished that she could just...be. Without worrying, without wondering, without doubting herself and her feelings.

Maybe one day she'd get back to that.

But she really didn't think it would be anytime soon.

SIXTEEN

I
t was nearly midnight when Hunter returned to the house. He'd stayed at the crime scene until all the evidence had been collected, and then he'd followed the technicians back to the lab.

Fortunately, two of the techs were friends, and they'd agreed to compare the doll body and head while he was there. It had been obvious to everyone that the two were a match. Same materials for head and body. Cut marks on each had been consistent. Someone had used scissors to behead the doll. There was no obvious DNA evidence. The techs had still been looking when Hunter drove back home.

The lights were off as he pulled into the driveway. He parked there instead of the garage, knowing that Burke was probably inside watching the monitors.

The cul-de-sac was quiet, the full moon casting long shadows across yards and houses. Nothing moved as he walked to the front door and unlocked it. So far, the plan was working. With only the four-member team privy to Annie and Sophia's whereabouts, they'd maintained the integrity of the safe house.

Burke had been right. Skirting protocol for a change had benefited everyone. After years of living by the rules, Hunter still wasn't sure how he felt about that.

The front door opened before he reached it, Burke hovering in the threshold.

“How'd it go?” he asked before Hunter even stepped into the house.

“About like we expected it would. The doll body and head were a perfect match. No physical evidence that might yield DNA. The evidence team is still looking, but it's not likely they'll find it.” He shrugged out of his coat as he stepped past Burke.

The house smelled...different.

He inhaled, his stomach jumping to attention as he realized why. Food. Not fast food. Not ramen noodles. Real food. The kind he only ate when he got together with family.

“Man, that smells good!” he murmured.

“It tasted good, too. Homemade mac and cheese. Oven-fried chicken. Caesar salad. That woman sure can cook.” Burke grinned. “Wish we'd known that a month ago. We could have had her making meals every night.”

“You're talking about Annie?”

“Who else?”

“It's not her job to cook for anyone but herself and her child, Burke. I hope you didn't ask to join them for their meal.” He kept his tone neutral, but he wasn't pleased. He was man enough to admit it was because he wanted to be the one who'd sat down and enjoyed a meal with Annie and Sophia.

“No need to jump to her defense, Hunt. I was minding my own business, trying to ignore all the great smells that were coming from the kitchen, and she invited me. What kind of man would I be if I said no?”

“One who was doing his job?”

“It's not my job to turn down a good meal,” Burke insisted. “And let me tell you something. It was the best twenty minutes on the job that I've had in years.”

“That good, huh?”

“Better than good. It was like eating Mom's home cooking. If Mom had been able to cook.”

Hunter laughed. “Well, don't rub my nose in it. I ate a package of cheese crackers four hours ago, and that's all I've had since this afternoon. Any trouble while I was gone?”

“None. It's been quiet inside and outside.”

Floorboards creaked above their heads, and Burke looked up at the ceiling. “Until now. Annie probably wants an update. She hounded me about it until Sophia went to bed.”

“Hounding? That doesn't sound like Annie.”

“Asking? Beseeching? Begging for information? Pick your poison.”

“I thought you liked Annie,” Hunter responded mildly.

“I did, and I do. After the meal I just ate, I'd even be tempted to follow her to whatever town she's going to next, but you probably have a lot more staying power than I do, and I'd hate to hurt her. She's already been hurt enough, right?”

“Right,” Hunter agreed.

“So, I'm leaving her to you. Of course, if
you
end up hurting her, I'll have to take you out back and beat some sense into you.”

“You're making a lot of assumptions there, Burke.”

“Observations. Not assumptions. I've worked with you for almost ten years. I know how you operate, and I know this case is different. You may be putting on your professional pants and doing the job the way you always do, but it's different. Are you going to tell me it's not?”

“No.”

“Good. Then we're on the same page.”

“What page would that be?”

“The one where I tell you to be careful, and you tell me to mind my own business.”

“I'll skip my part in it. This
is
your business. Until we get the Delacortes to trial.”

“Then what?” Burke asked.

“Then it's my business.” And he wasn't quite sure what he had planned. Just let Annie and Sophia go to their new home and their new lives? Eventually, he'd forget about them. He'd continue on the way he'd been going, pouring every ounce of his energy into his job.

Was it enough?

That was the question that haunted him.

The loose board at the top of the stairs creaked, and he knew Annie was on her way down.

“I'd better go check the monitor,” Burke said, slipping from the room as footsteps sounded in the stairway. Seconds later, Annie appeared, her hair loose and wild with untamed curls. She'd changed into pink sweatpants and a white T-shirt. The pants hung low on her hips, the T-shirt just skimming their waistband. She smiled when she saw him, and his heart responded.

“You're back,” she said, dropping onto the sofa and pulling her knees up to her chest. Her arms were thin and well muscled, her fingers long and narrow. Pretty hands. Pretty arms. Beautiful woman.

“And you're awake.” He sat beside her, inhaling the fresh clean scent of shampoo and soap.

“I wanted to hear what you found out, so I stayed up.”

“The doll body and head are a match,” he told her without preamble. There was no sense beating around the bush.

“That's not a surprise.” She rubbed the back of her neck and sighed. “Was there anything else? Any evidence that will help you find the person who planted the bomb?”

“The evidence team is still looking. If there's something to be found, they should know it in the next day or two.”

“I guess that's it, then. More waiting.” She dropped her chin to her knees, her hair spilling over her arms. He wanted to put an arm around her shoulders, tell her everything was going to be okay.

There was an invisible wall between them, though. One made of his commitment to the marshals.

“The waiting won't be so bad,” he assured her, touching her arm, the warmth of her skin shooting through him. He leaned in, unconsciously moving closer. “I'm having the real-estate brochures that I promised you shipped to my office. They should be here in a couple of days.”

“Great.” She sounded so pitiful that he chuckled, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear so that he could see her face.

“The time will go quickly. I promise.”

“That's the second promise you've made to me in twenty-four hours. Maybe you should quit while you're ahead.”

“Quit what?”

“Making promises.” She met his eyes, her raven-black eyebrows drawn together, her cheeks smooth and pale. “They can be awfully difficult to keep.”

“Not if the person giving them takes them seriously.”

“I guess you're right. Like you said earlier, I can't judge everyone on...”

“One person's failures?”

“Something like that.” She smiled wearily, her eyes so darkly shadowed the skin looked bruised.

“You need to get some sleep, Annie.”

“So do you, but we're both wide-awake. Did you eat dinner?”

“Not yet.”

“I put a plate of food in the fridge for you, if you're hungry. Want me to heat it up for you?”

She turned toward the kitchen, but he snagged her waist. “What I want,” he murmured, “isn't something that I can have right now.”

Her eyes widened, but she didn't pull away.

“You're a beautiful woman, Annie. I'd have to be a fool not to notice.”

She laughed nervously, slipping from his grasp and taking a few steps away. “Beautiful? I'm wearing sweats and a T-shirt and my hair hasn't been combed since sometime this morning.”

“It's not clothes or hair that make you beautiful. It's the way you treat your daughter. The way you treat everyone in your life. Your faith. Your positive attitude.” He didn't hold back, didn't try to pretend anything different than what was. They both deserved the truth, and they both had to decide what to do with it.

“Hunter...” She ran a hand over her hair, shifted from foot to foot.

“What?”

She shrugged. “I don't want to be lied to again. I don't want to play the fool. I don't want to think I'm going to have everything and then find out that I've got nothing.”

“So, you'd rather spend the rest of your life alone?”

“I thought I would. Now I'm not so sure.”

“Just like with everything else in your life right now, you have some time to think about it.”

She shook her head and smiled. “True. Too much time, if you ask me.”

“I can think of a way to distract you. For tonight anyway.”

Her eyes widened; her mouth dropped open. “What?”

“Come here.” He led her across the room and opened a cabinet in the bookcase. His uncle sent him photos of the ranch several times a year. Probably in an attempt to entice Hunter back to Montana. Hunter hadn't had the heart to throw any of them out. He pulled out a shoe box. “Take a look.”

She opened the lid, lifted a photo of a ranch house, its white clapboard siding gleaming in the afternoon sun. In the distance, white-tipped mountains stretched toward the sky. “It's beautiful. Where was it taken?”

“My uncle's ranch in Montana.”

“Wow!” She lifted another picture. This one of a cow and her calf. “This is the kind of place I wanted to live when I was a kid.”

“Did you grow out of wanting it?”

“I married a man who liked the city.” She smiled as she studied a photo of Hunter's uncle Samuel. Tall and narrow, his face deeply tanned, he wore a cowboy hat, scuffed boots and a layer of dust from hours spent working cattle. “Who is this?”

“My uncle.”

“Your father's brother?”

“My mother's.”

“Do you visit him every year?”

“I haven't been back in a long time, but Uncle Samuel sends me pictures every year. I think he'd like me to come back.”

“Why haven't you?”

“Work keeps me busy.”

She set the photos back in the box, looked straight into his eyes. “Work should never be more important than family.”

He knew that, but he'd forgotten it for a while.

He frowned, taking the photo of his uncle from the box. He'd aged, his dark hair liberally salted with gray, the lines on his face deeper than they'd been. “You're right, Annie. I need to make time to see Sam.”

“I'm glad we agree. Now, how about you go eat the food I left for you?” Annie held the box out toward Hunter, but he shook his head.

“Take them upstairs and look through them. Maybe you'll decide Montana is the place to settle.”

“If the rest of the photos are like the first three, I'm going to be more than a little tempted to do just that.” The house, the cattle, the weather-worn cowboy—they appealed to Annie at a visceral level. Made her think of home and family and long nights spent next to warm fires.

“If you like the look of Montana, I can start searching around. We should be able to find you a nice little property and a job,” Hunter offered. He looked as rugged as his uncle, his jaw dark with a five-o'clock shadow, his hair slightly ruffled.

She could imagine him standing just where his uncle had been, cowboy boots and hat, dust-covered jeans. He would make a perfect rancher. She could imagine being there with him, her arm wrapped around his waist, her hands resting on his firm side.

She pulled her thoughts up short, glancing away from Hunter's dark eyes. “I...don't know.”

“That's fine. I'm not asking you to make a decision now. I'm just offering you the option.”

“Okay,” she said. “I'll look through the pictures, and I'll think about Montana.”

“Good.” Hunter sounded legitimately pleased, his smile as warm and welcome as summer sunshine.

If he'd opened his arms right then, she would have walked straight into them. No regrets. No second thoughts. She would have laid her head against his chest, listened to the solid thud of his heart.

He didn't.

She didn't.

But she was pretty sure they both wanted to.

“I'd better go upstairs,” she murmured, afraid if she didn't leave, she'd do exactly what she shouldn't and throw herself into his arms.

“Good night, Annie.”

The new name sounded wonderfully familiar coming from his lips.

Her heart thumped in response, her pulse racing with feelings she'd thought she would never have again.

She clutched the box to her chest, ran upstairs and closed herself in the room with Sophia.