No Time to Hide (9 page)

He didn’t. But at the first touch of his fingertips against her skin, she trembled.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Obviously that’s still pretty tender.”

She didn’t respond. What could she say? That tenderness from her wound was the least of her problems? Even in this she was a coward.

“I’ll try my best to go easy, but this needs to be disinfected. It’s going to sting.” His warning came only seconds before she felt the cool press of the antiseptic wipe and its ensuing sting. She bit her bottom lip, but didn’t cry out. He moved quickly after that. With the antiseptic still resonating through the air, he put some ointment on and then covered the entire wound with a bandage.

He expelled a long breath when he was done. “I know that had to hurt. I got some ibuprofen. Why don’t you take some of that? It’ll help with the pain and maybe help you sleep some.”

“I don’t like drugs,” she said as she moved to put her tee back on.

He looked at her. “Whatever you think is best. Just know it’s here if you need it.”

He turned and left the bathroom.

A sense of guilt overwhelmed her. Would he be treating her with such care only to turn her over to Dom? She bit her lip. She had snapped at him because she was getting seriously turned on as he had touched her shoulder. She truly didn’t know what was the matter with her. She had been in the care of marshals and agents before. This should be old hat to her. Why was this particular man, this particular marshal, putting all her senses into overdrive?

She heard him moving around in the other room. She stepped out of the bathroom and saw he was busy pulling out the sofa bed. Now she felt guilty.

The sofa bed was so musty he sneezed several times as he was opening it. He snapped open the sheet that had been folded in the middle and quickly made the bed. Then he moved over and opened his sleeping bag.

“You’d better hit the hay,” he said. “It’s been a long day. Tomorrow probably isn’t going to be any shorter.”

She climbed in the bed and shut off the lamp. She lay completely still for a few moments. From the fact he wasn’t making any sounds, she assumed he had already fallen asleep. She tried to do the same, but her mind was going fifty miles an hour.

She turned to her left side, then to right side. Her shoulder wasn’t exactly hurting her, but she couldn’t find a comfortable spot. The darkness of the cabin now was complete. However, she could make out his shape, lighter than the floor underneath him. It was no good. She was driving herself crazy.

She should say something. He had done all the work. She’d just been along for the ride. If anyone should be on the floor it was her. She cleared her throat. “Cutter, would you like—”

“I’m fine. Go to sleep. I want to get an early start tomorrow.”

“But—”

“Please, just go to sleep. Believe me, I’ve slept in lots worse places than this floor. And hot as it is tonight, I don’t need a blanket.”

Kerry reached beside her and grabbed one of the pillows. She got out of bed, walked the short distance to him, carrying the pillow in front of her—for protection or what? “At least take this. Or I can sleep on the floor and you can have the bed.”

He took it. “No, I’m fine. Thanks for the pillow. Go to sleep, Kerry.”

She moved back and lay back on the bed, feeling confused and rebuffed. Before she was worried about what she would do tomorrow. Now she was avidly aware of Cutter as he lay, breathing evenly, just a few steps away from her.

When she closed her eyes, her memory replayed the way his arms and hands had supported her when they had been on the run. For a tantalizing second, she imagined how those arms would feel wrapped around her.

He was strong. In fact, he was the strongest man, physically, she had ever known. She remembered the way his hand had felt when he held hers, the way it felt when he had helped her up the stairs or into the truck. But his strength was tempered with a tenderness that was also foreign to her.

She closed her eyes again, imagining what it would feel like to touch him all over with not only her fingers but also her mouth. Like a woman would a man. Like a lover would.

The last thought brought her eyes wide open. Think about something, anything else but the attraction she felt for this man.

“Cutter, you told me before that you weren’t married anymore,” she said, keeping her voice low. “What happened?”

There was a sigh. Then Kerry heard the sound of the sleeping bag rustling. “Aren’t you tired?”

“I thought I was, but now I can’t go to sleep. I understand if you don’t want to talk about your personal life, but I don’t know what else to talk about.”

“Then why don’t you tell me how you got into this mess?”

“Well, I don’t really know. Ever since I testified and went into WitSec, it seems Dom’s people always find me. Believe me, I’ve tried to figure out where the problem is.”

“Maybe there’s something we’ve missed,” Cutter said.

“Do you think I haven’t considered that a thousand times since I’ve been in WitSec? Do you think I haven’t gone over everything that happened with each agent I’ve been assigned?”

“No, I don’t mean about being in the program. I’m talking about how you got hooked up with Dom, despite your Dad’s connections to Dom’s family.”

“Oh, you mean how did a nice girl like me get mixed up with Dom in the first place?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you really interested?”

There were sounds of Cutter moving. She looked over and saw him move from the floor. She felt the mattress shift as he sat on the edge of the bed. Her breath caught a bit in her throat.

“Yes.” Cutter was then silent, waiting, it seemed, for her to gather her thoughts.

“My mother died when I was fourteen,” she began. “I wish I knew if she was aware of how my father made his living. I didn’t think so at first, but maybe, looking back, I was wrong. But I don’t think my father ever really brought that part of his business home. I think he wanted to keep us completely out of it. I think that’s why he sent me to Switzerland to boarding school after my mother’s death.”

“Maybe he just wanted to keep you safe.”

“I used to believe that. Now, I’m not sure. If everything the FBI said about my father is true, I just don’t know what drove him.”

Cutter was silent for a few more minutes. “Tell me about Switzerland,” he said finally.

“It was okay. I mean, it’s a beautiful country and I enjoyed going to school. I’ve always like learning new things. That’s the first place I really began to draw.”

“Yeah, I saw you working on that back at the safe house. Were you a professional artist?”

Kerry laughed. “I wish. My father and Dom used to call it my doodles, and that’s closer to the truth. Oh, I’d love someday to have some of my stories published. You see, I write stories to go with my pictures. They’re for children.”

“That’s interesting.”

Kerry thought she heard anything but interest in his voice. “Anyway, I’d hoped to get a job with a publisher when I graduated. That’s what I wanted to do. But then I came home and met Dom. I fell in love with him. I didn’t know what Dom and his family did. I just thought they were businessmen.”

Kerry paused, waiting for a sarcastic remark from Cutter. When none came, she wondered if her story had bored him so he had fallen asleep.

“Go on,” he said.

She shrugged, knowing he couldn’t see her movement.

“There’s not much more. Dom asked me to marry him, and I said yes. Everything was fine, right up until the night of our engagement party. That’s when I heard my fiancé order my father’s death. All I could do was run.”

She took a breath. Even thinking the last part still made her cry. “I tried to warn him. I tried to call him, reach him at home. But just as I pulled onto our street, the house exploded. All I could do then was run.”

Saturday, 11:45 P.M.

Kerry waited for Cutter’s response to her bombshell. She should have known it wouldn’t faze him.

“What do you think you could’ve done differently?” He didn’t sound amused. He didn’t sound appalled. He did sound interested.

“I don’t know. But I should’ve done something. Even if I’d contacted the authorities sooner, maybe they could’ve done something to stop it.”

“What happened when you contacted the authorities?”

“Well, they spent the first ten hours questioning me. I didn’t even know Father was dead until they pulled his body out of the East River. He hadn’t been in the house when it exploded, so I’d panicked for nothing. They wouldn’t let me see him. They said they had positive ID on him.”

“Probably his fingerprints or dental records.” Cutter was silent.

Kerry realized he was letting what he’d just said soak into her brain. She swallowed the taste in her mouth. She could only imagine what shape her father’s body had been in after being dumped in the river. It had given her many nightmares over all these months.

“They’d have questioned me no matter when I contacted them, wouldn’t they?”

“I’m sorry. Yes.”

Cutter had moved from the foot of the bed and was now sitting beside her. She felt his warmth radiating to her, but she still felt cold with the remembering and retelling of that terrible night.

“It’s standard procedure. They had to be sure you weren’t a decoy. They had to make certain you weren’t giving them false information that would be damaging to their undercover operation. They’d been trying to get inside the Giancarlo family for years.”

Kerry nodded. “I know that now. When I overheard Dom ordering my father’s death, he said he had information my father had ratted them out. That’s why he had to die, Dom said. When I told the agents that, they didn’t confirm or deny it.”

Cutter stroked his hand over his chin, clearly in thought. “It’s possible I guess. Can you remember anything that might tell us if Dom was right?”

“No. But I was gone for so long my father was pretty much a stranger to me when I came home from Switzerland. I thought I knew him before my mother died, but now I wonder. Can a child, even a preteen, ever really know the details of a parent’s life?”

Cutter shook his head. “Probably not. Especially if the parent is an expert at living a double life.” He paused, then added, “Well, you don’t have to worry about it tonight. For now, you’re safe. I just thought maybe something might stand out in your memory.”

Kerry shook her head. “Nothing. But…” She paused, uncertain if she wanted to speak her thoughts aloud. He would probably think they were silly.

“What?”

“My father seemed genuinely pleased that Dom and I were engaged. I might never have met Dom if my father hadn’t been unable to pick me up at the airport. Then, when Dom took me out to dinner and we started dating, Father seemed very happy about it. Would he have done that if he was ratting on the family?”

Cutter shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. I probably wouldn’t have. But then, I don’t even know for sure if your father was working with the government. If someone had turned him, it would have fallen under the Organized Crime Drug Enforcement Task Force. They’re very tight-lipped about past, present, and ongoing operations over there.”

Kerry hung her head. “I guess I’ll never know, will I?”

Cutter’s silence was the only answer she needed.

“It’s silly, I know, but if my father was working for them, it’d make this all easier to handle somehow.”

After a moment, Cutter asked, “You said Dom picked you up at the airport? Was that what you’d expected? Or did something happen to keep your father from meeting you. Did your father ever say what happened?”

“No. I found out later, though. Apparently Dom had planned it all along. He sent my father to do a job, then he showed up at the airport instead. He’d seen my picture on my father’s desk in his study at our house.”

“Love at first sight?”

“Hardly.” Kerry snorted. “More like love with what I represented. I’d been to a European finishing school. I supposedly had friends whose parents were some of the most influential in the world. Dom wanted those connections. I know now, Dom is incapable of feeling any kind of love.”

“In his mind, it makes sense, I guess,” Cutter replied. “Nothing launders new money like old, established, respected money.”

“Yes, I think that’s how Dom looked at it. I heard him say once there’s nothing like the rich with their disposable incomes.” She got out of bed and started pacing.

This was the rub she had never been able to recover from. It didn’t just hurt her pride. It stung that she had been so gullible. Although, with her history, it shouldn’t have.

“But the joke turned out to be on Dom, you see. I had no rich, influential friends. In fact, I was voted most likely to fade into the woodwork by my classmates.”

“Stupid,” Cutter said.

“Yes, I was. Incredibly.”

“No, I meant those classmates.” He paused for a moment. “And Dom.”

Kerry smiled for the first time in what seemed forever. “Thank you. You’re very gallant.”

“For a marshal,” Cutter finished for her.

“No, I meant for anyone. But I also have to tell you that my experience with your coworkers hasn’t been like this.”

“Oh, you mean, they didn’t nearly get you killed first running away from a copter of bad guys, then send you through a creek that probably has every bacterium known to mankind in it?”

Kerry laughed and rejoined him on the bed. “I survived. And somehow I don’t see any of them taking me into their private residences.”

Cutter laughed. “Now who’s being kind?”

He paused, then said, “Helen had all kinds of plans for this place. She’d wanted to build and addition and fix all the things that were broken or just outdated.” He stopped speaking for a second as if remembering. “She’d be so so mad. This isn’t a residence. It’s a dump.”

“Believe me, after being on the run from Dom’s men, this looks like heaven to me.”

Kerry shifted on the mattress and curled her legs up under her. She was now facing Cutter with only a few inches separating them. She tried not to think about the enticing smell of him—part sweat, a little bit of whatever soap he’d used washing up outside, all man.

“You said this was your wife’s cabin. Does she have family on the reservation?”

“Yes. Her brother runs the store I was telling you I’d go to in the morning.”

“Oh. Well, I’m sure he’ll be happy to help you.”

“Maybe, after he tries to kick the shit out of me first.”

Kerry was stunned. “He’s going to fight with you?”

“Yes. No. Maybe. We didn’t split on the best of terms the last time we saw each other.”

“When was that?”

“At Helen’s funeral.”

“Oh. Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up something painful.”

“Not your fault,” Cutter said. “You do that a lot, don’t you?”

“What?”

“Apologize for things you have no control over.”

Kerry started to apologize again and caught herself before she did so. “I guess it’s just my upbringing.”

“Yeah, you put those Italian and Catholic rules together and you’ve got built-in guilt by the truckload.”

“Are you Catholic?”

“No, I’m nothing. Not anymore.”

“Oh.” Kerry fingered the tiny necklace she wore. “I guess I’m not either. Not anymore.”

Kerry wondered what it would feel like to touch him. Just his arm. She wondered if the hair on it would be crisp or soft. She remembered how it had felt when his muscles flexed. She wondered how it would feel to run her hand up his arm to his bare shoulder. Would the tanned skin there be hard or soft, warm or cold? He shifted slightly, moving his legs into a more comfortable position. Kerry felt as if she wanted to be more comfortable as well. And the only way to ease the ache that was beginning to build inside her would be to stretch out beside him, her body touching his.

Cutter turned and lay on his side. The movement allowed her to see the muscles of his smooth chest. She closed her eyes, trying to ignore the ripple of need that flowed through her.

“Well, it’s pretty late. I’m going to hit the hay.”

He was right. Kerry scooted back so she was laying down, while he stood and walked back to his sleeping bag.

“Cutter,” she said softly, after a few minutes as she heard the sound of his breathing evening out.

“Uh-huh,” he answered.

“Thanks for rescuing me today.”

“No problem.”

But Kerry was beginning to understand just how big a problem it was for him.

***

Sunday morning, 9:00 A.M.

The next morning Kerry awoke just in time to hear the sound of the car being driven away. She was amazed at how soundly she’d slept.

Since her father’s death, she had been battling a problem of insomnia. No matter where she lived, she only slept in snatches, an hour or two at a time at best. But last night, she had slept as soundly as if her past was nothing more than a fleeting nightmare. Stretching comfortably, Kerry got out of bed, smiled at the transformation of Cutter’s bed back into a bare floor and walked over to the small kitchen table. He’d left her a note. She picked it up.

Have gone hunting for information. Be back in a couple of hours. If you walk around, be careful. There is a small creek about three hundred yards from the back of the cabin. There isn’t usually a lot of wildlife around here. The summer has been so dry it may have driven some animals to stay closer to the water. Not trying to scare you, just warning you of possible dangers. I also left you a pistol with a few bullets. Just in case.

Cutter

It was just a short, to-the-point business missive. One could even say it bordered on brusque. She laid the piece of paper back on the table and stroked the edges lightly.

Not only did she feel safe when Cutter was with her—safe enough to have the best night’s rest in over a year—she felt safe in his absence. She picked up the gun and checked its cylinder. The bullets were there, but she knew she wouldn’t need them. There were no animals near the cabin, and she wasn’t about to go looking for any. A part of her she thought had died months ago wondered what it would be like to live here in peace and safety all the time. With Cutter.

***

Sunday, 9:45 A.M.

When Cutter turned right onto the asphalt of the county road heading northwest, he tried not to think about the sight of Kerry sleeping in the cabin. She’d looked like an angel while she was sleeping—innocent and untouchable.

And he definitely didn’t want to think about how badly he had wanted to wake her up using only his lips, teeth, and tongue. He couldn’t understand why this woman drew him. He felt as if he were being torn neatly in two. One part was easy to understand. He lusted for her with every cell and hormone in his body. That was unacceptable. He was a U.S. Marshal. It was his job. He wasn’t supposed to get involved.

Then there was his past.

He was also human and recognized human needs when he felt them. If he had followed through with those urges, he would have climbed onto that lumpy sofa bed and wakened her. Or he would have pulled her down onto the musty bed when they had talked last night. He would have shown her what lovemaking with an honest man was like.

But that was simple. The need and the want were easy to understand. Simple lust. Man and woman. High adrenaline. Add them all together and the natural result was mating.

What wasn’t simple was the other part. That part wanted to erase the haunted, hunted look she had about her. The incomprehension of why this was all happening to her. He remembered what she had said about her drawing. How she discounted everything she wanted as being unimportant. Where was her self-confidence? Where was the cockiness that should have made her hard and driven? They’d been together almost constantly, and he hadn’t seen any traces of that. All he’d seen was innocence.

Stop it. Stop falling for the act. Files, especially files compiled by the U.S. Marshals Service, rarely lie. I can’t say the same thing for Kerry.

He rounded a tree-lined bend and reached the top of a small hill. On the plateau one hundred yards in front of him was his destination. Smokin’ Bob’s was an institution on the reservation. It was part gas station, convenience store, and smoke shop and the center for all the important information and decisions that affected the Tuscaroras living on the reservation and nearby lands. The tribe had a governing council that provided official votes and decisions on the big issues. Everyone on the rez, as the white locals called it, knew all decisions and policies were really decided before the council vote at Smokin’ Bob’s.

With the advent of the natives’ ability to charge lower prices for gasoline, outsiders were a steady customer base for Stan, but it didn’t change the fact Cutter always felt like he was under the microscope here. Helen used to tell him he was paranoid. But like the old axiom went, just because you were paranoid didn’t mean they weren’t out to get you.