Love Inspired Suspense July 2015 #2 (40 page)

No, what had he been thinking in trusting a woman he barely knew when his stepdaughter's life was on the line? Keeping Sarah safe was his primary responsibility. Now more than ever.

It had been a very long time since he'd felt his mouth go that dry when he'd looked in a pair of sparkling eyes. Olivia was right when she'd called Mona Leslie a likable party girl. As an awkward, introverted eighteen-year-old mourning the recent death of his parents, he'd been instantly drawn to Mona's unpredictable energy and vitality. She'd been seventeen then, raising baby Sarah all on her own. They had provided him with an instant family—one that needed him. He'd married Mona when he was nineteen. But she'd never made good on her promise to give up drinking, drugs or fooling around. She'd left him less than two years later, announcing she wasn't cut out for monogamy. He'd taken a job on the other side of the world.

Still, when he'd gotten that long-distance call from a lawyer telling him that Mona was dead, that they'd still been legally married and he was still listed in her will as Sarah's legal guardian, he'd returned home. How could he let the child he'd once pledged to raise as his own end up in the care of social services? Mona might not have loved him for very long, but her decade-old will had specified that Daniel was the only person she trusted to be Sarah's guardian and to hold her inheritance until she turned eighteen. Even Mona had known not to trust Sarah's future to either her heavy-partying friends or her thieving brother, Brian. The bright-eyed baby who'd captured his heart long ago might now be an emotional, complicated teenager. But she was still his responsibility.

There was the clatter of the door opening and closing behind him.

“I'm sorry.” Olivia was at his shoulder. Her voice was soft and filled with regret. “Ricky is a friend from work. He drove me up so I wouldn't have to come alone. Yes, he's a photographer. But I never expected he'd just start taking pictures.”

He nodded to show he'd heard her, but still gave himself a few moments to calm back down before responding. After all, he'd been the one who'd decided to call her about the current crisis Sarah had found herself in. Ever since Brian's trial began, the teenager had received dozens of calls from nosy reporters, who just saw her as some kind of pretty novelty from a notorious family. Those calls had tripled since Brian's death. Daniel was exhausted from arguing with her on why throwing herself into the spotlight was probably one of the worst things she could do.

But when he'd told her about Olivia, Sarah had seemed open to meeting her, even though she'd been less than excited about the idea being interviewed by such a small newspaper. It had sounded as if it could be a workable compromise to get her story out without throwing her to the media wolves. He'd hoped meeting Olivia for coffee, explaining the situation with Sarah and getting her advice would be the first step in finding a sensible way forward. Instead, even just being around her made him feel strangely flustered.

The diner's light turned off. He glanced back. Someone had switched the door sign from Open to Closed. Moments later, the waitress and a second woman who he guessed was the cook walked out and drove off without so much as a wave in their direction.

He waited until they were gone before replying, “You should have told me he was here. I made it pretty clear that I wanted to talk to you off-the-record.” Daniel turned and walked toward his truck.

“You did. And again, I'm sorry.” Olivia followed and in a moment was walking by his side. “Ricky's young and he must have misunderstood me somehow. He dropped me off and told me he was planning to drive to find a cell phone signal to call his folks.”

“And instead he parked down the road, sneaked back and snapped a picture, then ran off back to his car. These are hardly the actions of an honest person.” He tried to keep his tone level, but irritation still seeped through his voice. This situation was ludicrous and exactly what he'd hoped to avoid. While he'd only shared a few brief moments with Olivia, it had still felt as though they'd had some kind of connection. That there was something deeper beneath the surface—maybe his faith, his worldview or his drive to do the right thing—that she'd shared, too.

Obviously he was wrong.

“Well, that's my fault, too, I guess,” she said. “I'd asked him to pull past the diner when he dropped me off. So he must have done the same when he came to pick me up.”

He stopped short. “So I wouldn't see him, right?”

“Yes, and I'm sorry.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I don't know how many times I can say it. I made the wrong call. I get now that this is apparently a big deal for you.”

No, she didn't get it. He'd been ready to trust her with something more important than she could have known. And she'd blown it.

But she'd admitted she was wrong and she'd apologized. That was far more than Mona had ever done. True. But she was also a stranger and a journalist. And the way he kept comparing her to his deceased former wife was reason enough to get out of here quick.

“I'm sorry, too. This was obviously a mistake.” He pulled his keys from his pocket and headed for his truck's driver's-side door. “I accept your apology. But this just doesn't feel right to me anymore. Please consider everything we have talked about off-the-record and don't contact me in future.”

He watched her face, expecting her features to fall in disappointment. Instead, her shoulders straightened and a firm, clear determination flashed in their depths.

“Understood. Well, I'm very sorry to have wasted your time.” She turned on her heel and started toward where the photographer's headlights shone through the trees.

“Hang on. Let me at least escort you to your colleague's car.”

“No, I'm fine on my own, thanks.” She didn't even turn. “Good night, Mr. Ash.”

Olivia walked out of the parking lot without looking back. He climbed into his truck and tried not to watch her go. Part of him wanted to pray, but couldn't begin to find words for the jumble of thoughts racing through his mind. Another part of him wanted to run after her and apologize, not even knowing what he should be apologizing for.
Instead, he waited a few minutes to give her the chance to reach her coworker's car. He heard a car door slam. A dark car sped past the lot. Seemed Olivia and her photographer friend were in a hurry to leave.

Daniel sighed, then eased his truck out onto the road and started driving. Despite the threat of rain, he rolled his window down and leaned out into the warm, damp night, hoping the fresh air would clear his head. What was it about this woman that unsettled him so much? He barely knew her, and yet sitting in the diner it had felt as if she'd been determined to reach around his defenses and rattle every single one of the locked doors inside him.

The headlights ahead of him lurched suddenly, weaving across the road and back as though the driver had suddenly lost control of the wheel. The dark car swerved toward the fenced-in remains of what was once a strip mall, then back onto the road again.

Olivia flew backward out of the passenger door.

FOUR

D
aniel jammed on his brakes. The sound of his own thudding heartbeat filled his ears.

The world slowed.

Olivia's body tumbled along the road like a rag doll.

The dark car spun around so quickly it nearly swerved off the road.

She forced herself to her feet and started running away.

Her hands were bound behind her.

She'd been kidnapped.

A figure in fatigues leaped out of the car and ran after her. A mask covered his face. There was a gun in his hand.

Daniel pressed his foot to the gas.

Lord, help me save her. I can't fail her now.

He aimed the truck for the gap between Olivia and her kidnapper, planning to swerve between them and yank her in via the driver's-side door, using the truck to shield her from the gunfire. But Olivia turned, darted through a gap in the barrier fence surrounding the strip mall and ran toward the abandoned buildings.
No!
Daniel gritted his teeth. Didn't she realize those were
his
headlights shining on the road in front of her? Didn't she see that he was there for her?

If only he hadn't asked Olivia to meet him somewhere this isolated.

The masked thug leaped through the opening in the fence after her. Okay, new plan. Daniel swerved hard and came to a stop inches before the metal barrier. The masked man turned back and looked at him. Daniel's eyes searched his form. Black fatigues. No insignia. Same as what he'd seen in the parking garage. Could've come from any military surplus store.

Semiautomatic handgun. Popular and illegal.

So probably a low-level street thug.

His voice was gravelly and definitely fake. “Keep driving, old man. This doesn't concern you.”

The masked thug leveled the barrel of the gun right between Daniel's eyes. Right, as though he was that easy to intimidate. He had faced down bigger guns and nastier threats back when this kid was probably still in grade school. Not that Daniel was about to be reckless and get himself shot while Olivia was still in danger. Daniel held the man's gaze just long enough to watch Olivia disappear between two buildings behind him. Showdown over. He shifted the truck into four-wheel drive and pulled away. The gunman laughed, turned and ran after Olivia.

Thunder rumbled in the darkened air. The skies opened. Rain fell with a vengeance.

Daniel gunned the engine. He raced past the fenced-in lot, then turned hard into the empty field. The truck bounced and jolted over the grass and scrub, kicking up mud in his wake.

A gunshot sounded from the lot to his left. Thankfully, whoever had condemned this strip mall had only thought to put barricades at the front of it. He turned hard and raced back toward the lot, hit a drainage ditch and launched the truck up onto a patch of pavement behind the buildings. Then he cut the engine and waited. Hopefully the gunman was too focused on his hunt to notice Daniel's little stunt drive.

Okay, Lord, now how do I—

But before the prayer could leave his lips, he saw Olivia shoot down an alleyway straight toward him.

* * *

She ran, barely able to see where she was going. Rain fell fast and wild, obscuring her view. The wind tossed her soaked hair into her face. Bonds dug into her wrists. Pain shot up her arms.

Her body smacked hard against the hood of a truck.

She gasped. The vehicle was nothing more than a gray shape in the darkness and had seemed to come out of nowhere. The driver's face was hidden in the darkness and distorted by water pounding off the windshield. She spun on her heel.

“Olivia!” a deep voice yelled. “This way.”

She stumbled. A strong arm grabbed her around the waist and nearly hoisted her feet off the ground. She opened her mouth to scream. A hand clasped over her mouth. A breath brushed against her ear. “It's me, Daniel. It's okay. Just get in the truck.” He half steered, half pulled her toward the passenger door.

Daniel?
The complicated and moody man who'd told her never to contact him again? Could she trust him? Then again, she'd foolishly thought the blinding headlights she'd been heading toward had belonged to Ricky's car, until a masked man had stepped out of the shadows and pressed a gun into her face. If he was still after her, entrusting her safety to Daniel was the only choice she had left.

She tossed her head and his hand slipped from her lips. “Untie me. Now. And take me back to the diner.”

“I can't. Sorry.” Authority rang through each syllable as though she was just supposed to take his word for it. “Just get in.”

“What do you mean you can't?”

With one hand, he reached around her and opened the passenger door.

“Just get in. I'll explain when we're out of here.” Then before she could answer, he grabbed her waist with both hands and hoisted her into the truck. She landed on the seat. He reached past and buckled her in before she could even process what was happening. Then he slammed the door, leaving her sitting almost sideways, belted into his truck, her hands still tied behind her back. Daniel ran around and hopped into the driver's side. His wet shirt was plastered to his skin. Water streamed down his face.

Her voice caught in her throat. “I said, untie my hands and take me back to the diner.”

“I said, I can't.” He started the truck.

The thug who'd abducted her burst out of a gap in the buildings ahead of them.

A gunshot split the air, the sound fading into the echo of another thunderclap.

Daniel gunned the engine and threw the truck into Reverse.

They flew backward into a field.

“Diner's closed,” Daniel said. “I'm taking you somewhere safer.”

“But Ricky will come back to the diner looking for me!”

Another shot sounded in the distance.

“You sure your pal's coming back for you? Someone took our picture. And who else had any idea where you were? For all you know, he had something to do with what just happened to you.” Tires spun in the mud. Windshield wipers slashed back and forth through the downpour. They were hurtling across a field into dark and empty nothingness. Did he even know where he was going?

“You can't possibly suspect Ricky had anything to do with that!”

Daniel stared straight ahead. “It's my job to suspect everyone.”

“
Was
. Was your job. You're not my bodyguard. I'm not some helpless debutante who needs you to chuck me into your truck and make all the decisions for me.”

One eyebrow rose. But he didn't even answer. She pressed her lips together and stared at the water pouring down the window beside her. Okay, that probably sounded pretty ungrateful considering he'd just saved her life. Again. But since he'd been the one who'd suggested they have some secret meeting in the middle of nowhere, it was probably his fault that her life had been in danger, too.

“I'm sorry, but I don't have anything I can cut your ties with here.” Daniel drove up a steep incline. They bounced through a drainage ditch and hit another field. “I do have a utility knife with me. But I'd have to stop the truck to get at it. Since those are heavy-duty plastic zip tie cuffs, it would take me a couple of minutes to hack my way through them. Under the circumstances, getting away from whoever just tried to kidnap you is my top priority.

“Also, it would take me half an hour to drive to the closest police station, and I made the call not to head back to the main road because if that thug has backup that's probably where it would be waiting for us. But my place is less than three minutes from here and it's not on the kind of road a stranger could just stumble on easily. Once we're there, I can snip off those cuffs and we can call the police. Now, did that answer all your questions?”

Pretty much
. “Enough for right now.”

“Great.” A wry grin crossed his lips. “And for the record, considering you just managed to escape from a moving vehicle while some thug had a gun pointed at you,
helpless
and
debutante
probably aren't quite the words I'd use.”

Hang on, was that a compliment?

He risked a sideways glance. “I must admit, I'm kind of curious how you pulled that off.”

Looked like it was.
They came out on a thin, unlit road. The rain slowed to a steady patter.

“Well, I didn't realize it wasn't Ricky at first,” she said. “By the time I got close enough to see it wasn't his car, someone had already stepped out of the trees, covered my mouth and stuck a gun in my face. He ordered me into the car. Said if I didn't go willingly he'd stick me in the trunk. I played along, but the first second the gun wasn't pointed directly at me, I opened the door, swiveled on the seat and kicked him in the jaw.”

“Impressive.” The grin on his mouth spread all the way up to his eyes.

They pulled onto a dirt road and the truck slowed to a crawl. Trees pressed up against the window. Lightning flashed across the sky. She looked up.

A stone farmhouse loomed in front of them. Derelict and deserted looking, the building was three stories tall, with a wide, sagging front porch. If this whole area was mostly a ghost town, then this manor was definitely the broken jewel of the battered crown. He drove past the house and farther up the driveway to a rather big and surprisingly modern-looking barn garage. At the press of a button clipped to his visor, the garage door rolled up. “Welcome to my home.”

They pulled out of the rain. The door rolled shut behind them.

“The house itself isn't much to look at yet.” He turned off the truck and climbed out. “I'm restoring it from the ground up. Just the kitchen, one bedroom and the study are livable so far. The living room's nothing but a foundation pit and the whole second and third floors are structurally unsound. I still spend most of my time at my apartment in the city.”

She scanned the garage. Rows of both antique and modern tools were arranged over a reclaimed wood workbench. Piles of lumber lay neatly stacked against the wall. He walked around the truck and opened her door. The gentle smell of sawdust filled the air. “I built the garage before I started gutting the house. There's a loft over the workbench, which doubles as both storage and sleeping space.”

She glanced up. A thick wave of wet red hair tumbled over her face.

“May I?” he asked. She nodded. He brushed the hair gently behind her ear. Then he unbuckled her seat belt. “I'm really very sorry to leave you sitting in those cuffs so long. Come on. Let's get them off you.”

She started to step out of the truck. Her left foot snagged on some kind of strap underneath the passenger seat. She tumbled forward. Her body fell against his chest. His arms wrapped tight around her.

“It's okay, I've got you.” He set her on the ground.

A flush rose to her cheeks. “My foot's just caught on something.”

She looked down and sucked in a breath. It was the
Torchlight News
camera.