Never Surrender (Task Force Eagle) (10 page)

Too much frustration for even a patient man.

On Tuesday, an Oxford County sheriff’s deputy found
Sudsy Pettit’s truck abandoned in the woods. Rick spent the rest of the day at
the scene and at the state medical examiner’s building in Augusta. On
Wednesday, hoping to see Juliana before she left for work, he headed to her
apartment.

As he left the interstate at the Portsmouth exit, his
cell phone sang out.

It was the Portland-based agent in charge of Juliana’s
guard duty. “Something odd going on here,” the agent said. “Ms. Paris just left
in her foxy neighbor’s Honda SUV. License plate CANALBT. She’s wearing a long
black wig.”

Shock vibrated like a wire along Rick’s arms. He
fisted his hand on the steering wheel. He’d been right. Juliana was hiding
something. Or someone—her brother. He forced his fingers to unclench as he
pushed aside the emotions knocking around inside him.

“Thanks for the heads-up. I’ll take it from here.”

*****

Juliana fiddled with the defroster and headlights. Too
bad Venice’s generosity with her SUV didn’t come with dashboard lessons. There,
finally the fog lights came on. Amorphous knots of white hovered over the
street and wound around the trash bins like ghostly curtains.

She usually hated New England’s murky weather but
today the cottony fog and the fine drizzle that concealed her were perfect.
Nothing could suppress the guilt riding her at sneaking away like this, but the
opportunity was too good to pass up.

Involving Venice and leaving her with the old Sentra
weren’t her best decisions but what else could she do? Ransoming the car from
Ray’s Recks took nearly every cent she made in the last week. The fact that she
and Ray went to high school together didn’t soften his policy on paying the
deductible up front.

She turned onto Woodbury Avenue and headed for I-95.
The headlights flashed on a parked car facing her. A familiar tall figure
emerged from the dark sedan. The collar of his jacket turned up, Ricardo Cruz
strode to the middle of the street.

Busted, dammit
. Her stomach bucked and rolled,
but whether from panic or elation at seeing him again, she couldn’t tell. The
damn man was just standing there, daring her to drive into him. She stomped on
the brakes.

Rick stalked to the driver side window. A fine drizzle
glistened on the leather jacket and dripped from his hair. From the expression
on his face, she expected to see steam rising. He arched a brow and circled an
index finger.

Resigned, she pushed the button to lower the window.

A car honked and sped around them. The driver shot
them the bird.

“A little early for Halloween.” Rick tugged on a lock
of hair that had escaped the wig’s tight net.

Her face went hot and a frisson hummed through her.
She yanked off the wig and tossed it in the back. “I . . . need some time on my
own. I’m tired of being followed and escorted everywhere.”

“Ah. Then I won’t follow you. Unlock the passenger
door, Juliana.”

Little choice there. If she drove off, he’d just
follow her or send another agent after her. She hit the unlock button with more
force than necessary. “Be my guest.”

When he jumped inside, her greedy gaze devoured the
sight of him—coal-black hair gleaming wet, face rugged and tight with anger. He
smelled of rain and leather and she wanted to slide across the console and into
his arms. She gritted her teeth.

He settled into the seat. “You know where Jordan is?
Did he phone you?”

“You’d know if he had. You people monitor all my
calls.”

A pickup came up behind her, so she accelerated.

Rick stretched out his long legs and placed his left
hand on her seat back, casual, as if they were going on a date. Only a muscle
flexing in his jaw betrayed his tension.

Maybe she’d drive around aimlessly and he’d get tired
of his game. Except this was no game. If she could find Jordan, he could answer
so many questions. If only she understood his involvement with the drug gang.
If he knew what that truck was hauling or at least suspected. If he had an idea
why the drug gang was so desperate to find him.

The camp was her last chance, the last place to look
for Jordan. He
had
to be there. Was it betrayal if she turned over her
brother to a DEA agent? Decision time. She had to follow her heart and her
instincts and trust Rick. But the thought was a lump in her throat.

When she took the northbound ramp on the interstate,
he asked, “Where are we going?”

“The Lakes Region of Maine. The family has a cabin on
Crooked Lake. It’s the last place I know to look for my brother.” She hiked her
shoulders in a gesture of helplessness. Matters were definitely out of her
control.

“So that’s the secret you’ve been keeping. Your family
sure has the hideaways.”

“Uncle Grady’s on my dad’s side of the family. Crooked
Lake is Mom’s family. You may think it’s strange, but lots of Maine families
have hunting and fishing and summer camps.” Now why did she feel she had to
defend the entire state of Maine?

“Don’t you have to work today?”

“Venice called in sick for me. Enough people there
have had a bug that no one will question my excuse. Vinson will call for
another temp.” She slanted a look at him. No muscle twitching. Maybe his calmed
temper would transfer to Jordan. “And you? What about that car you left in
Portsmouth?”

“Another agent will pick it up. No problem.”

“I was planning to spend the night.”

“I’m good with that.”

Whatever he meant by that, she wasn’t ready to
examine.

As the car sped northward, they fell into an almost
companionable silence. North of Portland, they left the interstate and the wet
weather behind. The SUV rolled onto two-lane country roads and into bright
sunshine.

She hummed with awareness of the man beside her.
Realization pummeled her. Rick possessed more depth and honor than Molly’s
shallow Good-time Charlies, but commitment and security weren’t in his
vocabulary. Life was more vivid, more intense with him. In spite of all her
efforts at guarding her heart, she’d fallen in love with him. With his
laughter, with his gentleness and strength, and with the poetry in his eyes.

With a man who’d break her heart.

*****

Rick’s fingers itched to caress Juliana’s penny-bright
curls, freed from the fright wig and loosely bound atop her head. She wore dark
purple jeans, but the parka concealed what else, maybe the matching sweater he
liked. She focused on traffic and the maze of roads with the same fierce concentration
she did everything.

He wanted that fierce passion focused on him, wanted
her beyond all reason. And hell, how could he stay angry with her for doing
what he’d have done for his brother? She could’ve kept up the deception and
taken them sightseeing around the Granite State. Instead she yielded to his
accompanying her, to the inevitable. Finally she was seeing reason.

A secluded cabin? He almost let himself hope Jordan
was hiding somewhere else.

“The cabin, Juliana, tell me about the cabin.” Adjusting
for the sudden tightness in his jeans, he shifted in the bucket seat.

“Just a hunting and fishing camp, really.” A nibble on
her lower lip betrayed her anxiety. “Pretty basic. It’s on paper company land.
My grandfather built the cabin back in the forties. Another relative pays the
rent.”

A cabin on timber land. No title. No wonder a search
of assets didn’t turn that up. He watched the scenery, ready to see what
developed.

They stopped for clam chowder at The Galley in Naples.
When they returned to the SUV, he grasped her arm. “Don’t start the engine just
yet. I have news but I didn’t want to tell you inside or while you were
driving.”

She looked stricken. “Jordan?”

He smiled to ease her worry. “See, that’s the reaction
I thought might take us off the highway. No, it’s about the guy he was driving
for. A sheriff’s deputy found Sudsy Pettit’s truck in the woods near Norway.
Two dead bodies inside. Sudsy and an unidentified male in his twenties. Dark
hair, chunky.”

She laid her head on the steering wheel and inhaled
deeply. “Thank God. Jordan’s blond and wiry.”

“I wanted to tell you this in person. The reason I was
headed to your apartment. And then the agent guarding you phoned me.”

“
Unidentified male
,” she repeated, giving him a
watery smile. “Because I’d have thought it was Jordan.”

“Exactly. Both men died from a single shot to the back
of the head. Execution style. If Jordan’s in the cabin, you better hope he’s
ready to turn himself in.”

“I’ll make sure he understands.” But she looked
doubtful.

Close to the turnoff for Crooked Lake, they bought
food at a tiny village store. Ten miles of gravel road led in to the lake. From
the road, a narrow dirt track plunged downhill to the small log cabin.

He searched among the bare birches. “No power lines.
Are they underground?”

“No electricity. It’s only a sporting camp. No
plumbing either. The only running water’s a hand pump in the kitchen sink.” Her
features tightened. “Is that a problem?”

“Don’t look so stricken.” He smiled. With a
forefinger, he smoothed the worry lines that popped out on her forehead. “It’s
fine.”

“No cell phone towers, no internet connection of any
kind.”

No problem for his satellite phone. “I’ll deal.”

Juliana guided the vehicle down the bumpy drive. “Mud
season’s only begun to thaw the ground, so the driveway’s not too bad. But this
hill needs four-wheel drive any time of year, or you might end up in the front
door. Or in the lake.”

She eased to a stop beside a small outbuilding and they
got out.

Judging from the lack of footprints in the patchy snow
and the smokeless chimney, no one had used the camp all winter. Including
Jordan.

Warmth suffused him, swirling in his belly like one of
Juliana’s butterflies. As much as he needed to find her brother, Jordan’s
presence would have inhibited what Rick knew would happen, wanted to happen,
needed
to happen, between him and Juliana.

“By the water,” he said in a mild tone. “Not a bad
hideout. Too bad he’s not here.”

Disappointment was stark in her eyes, but she rallied,
straightening her shoulders. “I refuse to feel guilty for not telling you
everything. I’m entitled to protect my brother. I told you from the beginning I
intended to talk to him first.”

“And yet you’ve brought me although you suspected
Jordan was here. Does that mean you’ve had a change of heart about him?” He
looked down at his boots and then up at her. “Or about me?”

Chapter 10

Not ready to answer what he was really asking, Juliana
turned away.

She unlocked the padlock on the plank door and opened
it. “It’ll feel colder inside than out. We’ll need a fire in the Franklin.”

“I’ll take care of that if you have other things to
do.” He set their purchases on the kitchen counter and went out to the
woodpile.

In the downstairs bedroom she sank onto the bed and
put her head in her hands. Her chest ached and tears burned her eyes. Nowhere
else to look. No way to contact Jordan.
Dammit, where are you, little
brother?
He had to be safe, tucked away somewhere no bad guys could find
him. Even if she came up with an idea, she could do nothing now. She wiped her
eyes with a tissue and pushed to her feet.

She exchanged her good jeans and ballet flats for old
jeans and sneakers. She pulled curtains open, swept sheets from the two rocking
chairs and Naugahyde sofa, and shook mouse droppings from the rag rugs.

What would Rick think of the place? The entire cabin
took no more space than a two-car garage, with one large room for sitting and
cooking, a bedroom downstairs with a queen bed, and a loft with bunks. Sets of
deer antlers and mounted fish adorned the walls. Driftwood and carved lamps
completed the woodsy décor. A path led to the outhouse.

It couldn’t compare well to anything he was used to.
Houses in Florida must be light and airy and open, not dumpy and dreary like
this old cabin.

“Cozy.” Rick entered with an armload of birch logs. “I
love to watch a fire.” His mouth curved with boyish enthusiasm.

She puffed out a sigh and returned his smile. He’d
removed his leather jacket. The wood’s weight stretched the shirt across his
muscled shoulders as he arranged the logs in the hearthside box. His hair
gathered highlights from the sunshine streaming in the window.

Her heart rioted against her ribs. She longed to
caress the high slope of his cheek, the bristly sweep of his jaw. Instead, she
hurried to the SUV for the foam cooler.

She wouldn’t reject him this time, but she wasn’t
ready. Yet. Loving him confused her. Desire swirled with anxiety and fear. She’d
deceived him, except he found her out. And since Jordan wasn’t here, she might
have to deceive him again.

“The lake, the cabin—it’s something from a post card,”
he said when she returned. “I’ve bivouacked in tents and on hard and soggy
ground, but never in an honest-to-God log cabin.”

His admiring tone of voice said he was enjoying
himself in spite of his reason for coming. That eager joy in life had endeared
him to her from the beginning. He made everything special, made being with him
special.

“We can light the fire later.” She zipped her parka. “It’s
turned into a beautiful day. Why don’t we go for a hike? Melting ice is too
punky for snowmobiling or ice fishing.”

From a hook by the door, she tossed him an old barn
coat of her dad’s.

“No racing. I want to savor every bit of this place, the
lake, the clean air.” He slid a finger down her forehead to the tip of her
nose. “You.”