Running Blind (2 page)

The prayer filled her mind as the car took another sharp turn. She lost her grip on the seat, flew into the door again, her shoulder hitting first, her head following. Pain exploded through her and she felt a brief moment of panic, and then she felt nothing at all.

N
ikolai Jansen had survived enemy fire in Afghanistan and a roadside bomb in Iraq. He didn't plan to die twenty miles from the U.S. border during what should have been an easy assignment.

He took a sharp left, smiling grimly as the squeal of tires and the sound of shattering glass filled the car. The old truck that had been following hadn't been able to make the turn.

Good.

One less carload of bad guys to deal with.

Beside him, Jenna groaned, straightening in her seat and nearly toppling forward into the dashboard. He grabbed her shoulder, holding her up as he eased off the accelerator. She was in bad shape. Beaten and blind, the wound on her forehead three different shades of green and blue. The sooner he got her to a hospital the better, but stopping now wasn't an option. The Mexican drug cartel that had grabbed her was notorious for silencing people it took issue with. It seemed that Jenna was one of them. Or, perhaps, it had simply been her friend the Mexican Panthers were after.

“Did we lose them?” Her words were soft and slurred, her face colorless, aside from the bruise on her forehead and the freckles that dotted her nose and cheeks. According to her brother, Nikolai's boss, Kane Dougherty, she'd been in Mexico working as a physical therapist at a pediatrics clinic. She hadn't gotten anything but trouble for her effort.

“For now.”

“What if they find us again?”

“Let's not borrow trouble.”

“I'm not talking about borrowing it. I'm talking about having it handed to us on a silver platter,” she muttered, leaning her head back against the seat.

“If they find us again, we'll deal with it the way we did before.”

“By running?”

“Or fighting. Whichever will get us out of the situation alive.”

“I'm not sure I'm in great shape for fighting.”

“No worries. I've got enough fight in me for both of us.”

“You said my brother sent you.”

“I work for your brother's PI firm and was following a lead in San Antonio. Kane asked if I could take a trip across the border to see how you were doing.”

“Typical Kane. Always keeping an eye on the people he loves.”

“That's not such a bad thing, is it?” he asked, more to keep Jenna talking than because of any real need for conversation. Twenty minutes and they'd hit the U.S. border and the medical help Jenna obviously needed. Twenty minutes wasn't long in the grand scheme of a life, but with head injuries, twenty minutes could be all a person had.

“No. And, right at this moment, I'm really glad he likes to keep an eye on me. I couldn't have escaped that basement without your help.” She paused, took a deep shaky breath. “I don't suppose you have any kind of pain relievers on you?”

“There's a bottle of Tylenol in your purse, but I'm not sure a doctor would approve of you having any.”

“You've got my purse?” Her head was tilted down and her hair fell forward, covering her face and preventing him from seeing her expression.

He reached over and brushed straight red hair from her forehead and cheek, and she turned her head, her light blue
eyes eerily empty. Blind, she'd said, and looking in her blank stare, Nikolai had no doubt that she was right. “
Do
you have my purse?” she repeated, and Nikolai jerked his attention back to the road and to the conversation. He'd have time to feel sorry for Jenna after they made it to safety. Until then, all his focus needed to be on the mission.

“I grabbed it from your hotel room. I figured you might need your passport and ID.” And he'd also figured that if the police found the purse, they'd keep it until Jenna or a family member retrieved it. That would have made it difficult for him to follow through on his plan to find Jenna and to get her out of Mexico.

“I guess your foresight paid off.”

“It will if we make it to the border.”

“How far are we from it?”

“Fifteen minutes.” But it only took seconds for things to change. For good to turn bad. For easy to become difficult. He'd seen it dozens of times as a Marine in Iraq and Afghanistan. Had nearly died when a peaceful day had exploded into violence. Expecting the unexpected was what he'd been trained to do. Returning to the United States and to life as a civilian hadn't changed that.

“Fifteen minutes. That's not so bad, and I guess if we've made it this far, there's no reason to think we won't make it the rest of the way,” she said.

He didn't bother to tell her that there was
every
reason to think they wouldn't. There was no point in stating the obvious. “Once I get you across the border, I'll go back and search for your friend.”

“If that's what you're planning, why cross the border at all? We can both go look for her.” Her voice was weak, the adrenaline that had been keeping her going, fading.

“We've covered that ground before, Jenna. Right now, my priority is you.”

“Because my brother is paying the tab? If that's the case—”

“No one is paying the tab. I came down here as a favor to a friend.”

“Then let's go back. Magdalena—”

“Wouldn't want you to die for her.”

At his words, she fell silent, dropping her head into her hands, her thoughts about his comment hidden. Either she realized the truth of his words, or she'd run out of energy and no longer had the strength to argue.

Nikolai wanted to comfort her, but there was nothing he could say. No way that he could convince her that they were doing the right thing. Leaving someone behind never felt right, regardless of the circumstances.

He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and dialed Kane Dougherty's number. Owner of Information Unlimited, Kane had asked Nikolai to join the private investigative firm two months ago. The job offer had come at the right time, and Nikolai had accepted. Since then, he'd tracked down missing relatives for two clients, traced the money trail of a man who'd left his wife and kids for another woman, and followed a suspected embezzler from Houston to San Antonio.

And now he'd found Kane's sister bound and gagged in the stronghold of the Mexican Panthers.

“Dougherty here.”

“Are you still in the States?”

“In Denver. I've got a three-hour layover here. I'll be in Mexico at three. Do you have any news?”

“Better than news. I've got your sister. We're a couple of miles from the border.”

“Is she okay?”

“She's injured.”

“How badly?”

“She's blind.”

Dougherty didn't respond, his silence speaking volumes. He was worried about his sister. Desperate to be there to protect her. Frustrated because he wasn't. Nikolai understood all those feelings. He'd felt them all in the twenty years during
which he'd been separated from his sisters. He'd been blessed to be reunited with Morgan, but Katia was still out in the world somewhere. An adult now, but still his little sister and still, in some indefinable way, his responsibility.

“Tell him I'm okay.” Jenna roused herself enough to speak, and Dougherty must have heard.

“Is that her? Let me speak to her.”

“Are you up to speaking with your brother?” Nikolai asked, and Jenna nodded.

He placed the phone in her palm, felt her hand trembling. She was still terrified and probably in shock, her skin cool and clammy to the touch. He should have grabbed the blanket he kept in the trunk of the car and wrapped it around her shoulders, but there hadn't been time for anything but getting her in the car and getting her out of the line of fire.

“Kane? No, I can't see anything, but I'm sure it's not permanent.” There was confidence in her voice, and Nikolai wondered if she really believed what she was saying or if she was simply trying to reassure her brother.

He didn't ask, just took the phone after she finished her conversation and tucked it into his pocket. The border checkpoint was just ahead. Several cars were waiting to pass through, and Nikolai pulled into line behind them.

“We've slowed down. What's going on?” Jenna asked, her voice much weaker than it had been when she'd spoken to her brother. Her lips and face were colorless, the bruise on her forehead deep purple.

“We're at the border.”

“Then I guess we're home free.” There was no relief in her voice, no indication that she was happy to be within reach of safety.

Was she thinking about Magdalena?

Or had she realized that making it to the border and making it across were two different things?

Nikolai didn't ask. Just inched the car forward, his gaze on a car pulling up behind him. It looked like any other car,
and maybe it was, but the hair on the back of Nikolai's neck stood on end, his pulse thrumming. Danger hung in the air, and he couldn't ignore it.

He turned the steering wheel, maneuvering out of line, and speeding toward the border checkpoint.

“What's happening?” Jenna's panicked cry mixed with the roar of the engine, but Nikolai didn't have time to answer. The doors of the other vehicle opened, and two men climbed out.

“Get down!” He shouted the command, and Jenna obeyed, diving down as the first bullet exploded through the rear window. Another followed, the sound reverberating through the car as Border Patrol agents streamed from their stations. Nikolai slammed on his brakes, the tires squealing as the car shuddered to a stop.

“Are w—” Jenna started to rise, and Nikolai shoved her down again, throwing his body over hers.

Gunfire blasted around them, the sound blocking out everything but the thundering beat of Nikolai's heart.

For a moment he was in Afghanistan again, diving for cover as the enemy fired from a rooftop. He could smell the dirt and the coppery scent of his comrades' blood, could hear his own desperate prayers rising from the deepest part of his soul.

And then there was silence, and he was back in the present, pressing Jenna down into leather seats, smelling flowery shampoo and fear.

Jenna tried to move, but he held her down. “Wait another minute. Let's give everyone time to calm down. We don't want to get shot by the good guys.”

“Right.” She panted the word, and he shifted his weight, trying to give her room to breathe. He could feel her trembling, could hear the quick, sharp intake of air as she struggled not to panic.

“It's okay. Everything is going to be fine,” he said quietly,
smoothing deep red hair from her cheek. Her skin was silky and much too cool for such a warm day.

“You. In the car. Sit up slowly. Keep your hands where we can see them.” The shouted command was repeated in Spanish, and Nikolai did as he was told, rising slowly, his hands in the air.

Jenna did the same, swaying slightly as she moved.

Nikolai wanted to put a hand on her shoulder and hold her steady, but he doubted he'd live long enough to regret it if he did.

The car doors opened, and Nikolai was dragged out.

“Watch out for my friend. She's got a head injury, and she can't see. We need to get her medical attention,” he said as the patrol officer frisked him.

“Let's take things slow. Why don't you tell me who you are and why you've got someone gunning for you?” The officer took a step back, allowing Nikolai to turn around and face him. A body lay on the road a few yards away, and another gunman was being frisked by a border patrol officer.

“I'm Nikolai Jansen. My friend was kidnapped and held prisoner by the Mexican Panthers. She managed to escape, and I'm trying to get her across the border and to the hospital.”

“Do the police know about this?”

“They know she was kidnapped, but I haven't let them know that she's escaped. I thought it would be safer to get her across the border first.”

The officer frowned, and then nodded. “There's been some trouble with the Mexican police being on the payrolls of several different drug cartels, so I can understand your concern. How about we move inside? We'll check out your story and see what the police have to say.”

“Sounds good.” Anything to get Jenna out of the open.

A female officer finished frisking Jenna and stepped back, nodding with satisfaction. “She's clean.”

Nikolai took Jenna's forearm, steering her toward the narrow border patrol station. “Are you okay?”

“Fine. I even think my vision is returning.” She offered a brief smile, but her pallor and the tentative way she moved belied her words.

“Are you able to see light?” He slipped an arm around her waist, knowing that she needed the support whether she wanted to admit it or not.

“I think I'm seeing shadows moving. Or maybe it's just wishful thinking.”

“There's nothing wrong with wishing.”

“No, but wishes usually don't come true. If they did, I'd wish bigger than getting my vision back.”

“Yeah?”

“I'd wish Magdalena were here with me.” Her voice broke, and Nikolai tugged her closer to his side.

“It really is going to be okay, Jenna.”

“For me, but that's not what I'm worried about.” It
was
what Nikolai was worried about. He didn't have time to say it.

One minute Jenna was walking and talking, the next she was slipping out of his grasp. He just managed to catch her, pulling her up into his arms and shouting for the border patrol officer to call for an ambulance. As he looked down into Jenna's colorless face, he could only pray that the ambulance would get there in time.

G
ray and black. Shadows and light. Fuzzy images that didn't quite make sense. Jenna blinked, trying to bring the hospital room into focus. There was a clock on the wall, but she couldn't make out the time. That was just as well. She wasn't sure she wanted to know how many hours had passed since she'd arrived at the hospital, or how much time had passed since she'd last seen Magdalena.

Too much time. There's no way she's still alive.

The thought flitted through her mind and lodged there, the words repeating over and over again until Jenna wanted to scream.

Magdalena was
not
dead.

She was alive and waiting to be found.

Jenna refused to believe anything else.

Refused to, but the thought was still there, echoing through her mind, chasing her out of the bed she'd been brought to just a few minutes before.

She swayed, the IV needle in her arm pulling a little as she grabbed the bed railing to keep from falling. The throbbing agony in her head intensified as she crossed the room and pulled open a heavy curtain, letting in bright sunlight that seared its way into her skull.

She winced, pulling the curtains closed again, sweat beading her brow, her body shaking from the pain. It didn't matter, though. Nothing mattered except finding out what
had happened to Magdalena. She wanted to pull out the IV, walk out the door and search for her friend, but she knew she wouldn't make it out of the hospital parking lot. She had no car. No other means of transportation. Even if she had, how far would she get with severely limited vision?

Jenna scowled as she paced back across the room, grabbed her clothes from a pile on a chair and pulled on her jeans. Her T-shirt wouldn't go on over the IV, so she tossed it back onto the chair. She'd never been one to give up easily, and she wouldn't give up now. There had to be a way to get back to Mexico.

But was going back the right thing to do?

God had brought her safely out of a dangerous situation. Should she throw herself back into it?

She didn't know, couldn't concentrate enough to figure it out.

I wouldn't mind a clue, Lord. Some hint as to what You want me to do.
She prayed as she paced to the chair in the corner of the room. A small table stood beside it, and Jenna could see something lying on top of it. She reached out, felt soft leather. Her purse. It had to be. She opened it, checking for her passport and wallet. Neither were there. Nikolai must have brought the purse into her room and left it while she was down in radiology.

Nikolai who had found his way into a drug cartel's stronghold and freed her. He'd said he'd done so as a favor to her brother, and he'd said he would go back for Magdalena as soon as he got Jenna to safety. Had he? Jenna grabbed a blanket from the bed and tossed it around her shoulders, determined to find out. It seemed to take too much effort to open the door, and she swayed as she stepped out into the hall.

“Going somewhere?” The deep, gruff voice was so unexpected, Jenna jumped, whirling to face the speaker and regretting it immediately. Lights flashed in front of her eyes, the world spun and she was falling. Firm hands wrapped around
her upper arms, supporting her until it settled back into place.

“Thanks.” She took a step back, looking up into a rugged, handsome face. Nikolai's face? It had to be. The voice, the gentle strength of the hands—those were things she'd never forget.

“You can thank me by sitting down. I don't think a woman with a fractured skull should be walking around.”

She didn't argue as she was urged down into a chair against the wall outside her room.

“Better?” Nikolai crouched in front of her, and she could just make out dark hair and striking features. High cheekbones. A strong jaw.

“Yes. Thanks.”

“You're supposed to be in bed resting.”

“And you're supposed to be on your way back to Mexico to find Magdalena.” Even as she said it, she knew how ungrateful she sounded. He'd saved Jenna's life, and she had no right to ask him for more. “I'm sorry, that wasn't what I meant to say.”

“No apology necessary. I said I would go, and I would have, but Border Patrol won't let me back into Mexico.”

“Then, I'll go.” She started to rise, but he put a hand on her arm, holding her in place.

“You know that won't work, Jenna.”

“It might. I just need my passport. Do you have it?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I'll get a nurse to take out this IV, and I'll be on my way.” She struggled to her feet, and this time he didn't try to stop her.

“To do what? Border Patrol isn't any more likely to let you cross the border than it was me.” His voice was gentle, and Jenna blinked back tears she'd been refusing for hours.

“If they won't, I'll find another way to get across.”

“Do you really think I'm going to let you make an attempt at an illegal border crossing?”

“You did your job, Nikolai. You got me out of Mexico. What I do now is up to me.”

“Not if you aren't thinking clearly.”

“I'm thinking plenty clearly.”

“Telling yourself that won't make it true and throwing yourself back into danger won't save your friend.”

“I have to at least try.” She stepped to the door, her stomach roiling, stars dancing in front of her eyes.

“You've got a fractured skull and you can't see…”

“My vision is coming back. The doctors said it should be completely normal in a few hours.”

“Jen, you can barely walk.”

“I'm fine!”
But she wasn't. Not fine enough to take another step let alone attempt to walk across the border into Mexico.

Nikolai must have sensed her defeat. He slid an arm around her waist, supporting her as they walked back into the room.

She dropped onto the bed, blinking hard to bring Nikolai into sharper focus. “I just want her to be okay.”

“I know.” He pulled a chair over and sat across from her.

“If she's not—”

“You'll go on. That's how life is.”

“You make it sound as if it's a done deal. Do you know something I don't?”

“All I know is that your friend is still missing. I called the Mexican police less than an hour ago, and they still haven't located her.”

“But they're looking?”

“Of course.”

“And?”

“They've searched the building where I found you, but it's empty. The Mexican Panthers cleared everything out before the police arrived.”

“You've mentioned them before.”

“Who?”

“The Mexican Panthers. I'd never heard of them before today.”

“Consider yourself fortunate. They're one of the most notorious drug cartels in Mexico, and they don't believe in letting their enemies live.”

“I don't understand what that has to do with me or Magdalena.”

“Neither do the Mexican police or the DEA. It's what they're hoping to find out.”

“What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said. The Mexican Panthers are quick to murder enemies, but they're not known for taking out innocent people.”

“You're not implying that Magdalena and I were involved in the drug trade, are you? Because if you are—”

“I'm not implying anything. I'm telling you what the police are probably thinking.”

“Then, they're thinking wrong.”

“Maybe. Or maybe there's information that you know nothing about. Something that might have led the Mexican Panthers to you and your friend.”

“Like?”

“It's possible Magdalena—”

“No way.” There was absolutely no way that Magdalena was involved in drug trafficking.

“Hear me out, Jenna.” He leaned close, his dark eyes staring into hers. Were they brown? Dark blue? She couldn't tell, and she was tempted to move closer, look more deeply.

She leaned back instead, unsettled in a way she hadn't been in years.

She didn't like the feeling.

Didn't like it at all.

“Say what you need to say, Nikolai, but it won't change what I know about Magdalena.”

“It's possible your friend wasn't the person you thought
her to be. She may have had secrets she couldn't share with you.”

Magdalena
had
seemed tense in the weeks leading to the trip, but Jenna had chalked it up to stress. Was it possible something else had been weighing on her mind?

Jenna shook her head, denying her doubts as much as she was denying Nikolai's words. “Everyone has secrets, but Magdalena's weren't the kind that get people killed.”

“Then perhaps Magdalena got in the way of a transaction between someone she knew and the drug cartel. Is it possible someone working at the clinic was trafficking in narcotics?”

“I don't know. There were fifteen people on our medical team, and Magdalena is the only one I knew.” Jenna shook her head, wincing as pain shot through her skull. Her stomach heaved and she swallowed hard. No way did she plan to lose her lunch in front of Nikolai. She bent forward, trying to ease the nausea, wishing her thinking was less muddled. Maybe Nikolai was right and someone at the clinic
had
been involved in drug smuggling, but she couldn't think of who it might be. Couldn't even begin to imagine any of the volunteers stooping so low.

Nikolai touched her knee, his fingers warm through thick denim. “Why don't you lie down? I'll make some more phone calls. Perhaps the police have new information.”

“I'm okay.” She straightened, sweat beading her brow as her stomach heaved again.

“You're as pale as a ghost.”

“So maybe I should have said that I
will
be okay.” She stood, swaying as she took a step toward the window.

Her vision seemed to be clearing, the steroids the doctors were pumping into her doing their job. God was in control, and everything would work out okay. It was a mantra that she'd repeated to herself often during the two years she'd fought leukemia. Chemotherapy had sapped her strength, turned her into a person she didn't know, and she'd had to remind herself
every day that she'd be herself again when it was over. When it finally was, when she'd thought she would celebrate with longtime boyfriend Ryan Mayer and had, instead, listened as he'd told her how much he cared about her and how sorry he was that he'd fallen in love with someone else, she'd reminded herself that she would be okay. Her hair would grow back, her body would be strong again, her heart would heal.

Yes, God
was
in control, and Jenna
would
be okay.

But would Magdalena?

Jenna wanted to believe that she would be. Wanted to have hope that Magdalena would be found alive and healthy and anxious to go back to her husband and son.

She wanted to, but hope was elusive, her hold on it tentative. She swallowed back tears and turned away from the window, nearly falling backward when she realized Nikolai was right behind her.

“Careful.” He grabbed her hand, holding her steady as she regained her balance, the warmth of his touch seeping into her chilled flesh.

“Thanks.” She pulled her hand away, her cheeks heating for reasons she refused to acknowledge.

“You look feverish. I'll call the nurse, and—”

“No!” She nearly shouted, her cheeks heating even more. “You've already done plenty, Nikolai. Actually, you've done
more
than plenty. You saved my life, and I won't ever forget it. I hope you know that.”

“It sounds like you're getting ready to say goodbye.” He offered a half smile that transformed him from handsome to drop-dead gorgeous, and Jenna's heart skipped a beat.

“It's time, isn't it? I'm safe in the hospital, and I'm sure you have a lot of other things you could be doing.”

“I can't think of anything.”

“You could go home.”

“Now it sounds like you're kicking me out.”

“I'm not, but I'm sure my brother will be here soon, and there's no need for you to wait for him to show up.”

“I spoke to Kane after we arrived at the hospital. He'll be here in about an hour. I'll take off once he arrives—”

“You really don't have to—”

“I want to. Besides, my flight to Houston doesn't leave until tonight.”

“Houston?”

“I live there.”

“So does Magdalena.”

“I know.”

“What else do you know?”

“That she's a pediatrician who specializes in orthopedic surgery and that she's been running medical clinics in Mexico for several years. That she has a three-year-old son named Benjamin and a husband named John.”

“You've been busy.”

“I like to know the people I'm searching for.”

“Searching for?” Surprised, Jenna stepped toward him, misjudging the distance and bumping into his chest. She blushed as he grabbed her arms, steadying her for what seemed like the hundredth time.

“You're not the only one who doesn't believe in leaving people behind. I haven't given up on going back across the border. I've got some friends in Houston who may be able to help me do it.”

“Who—” She was interrupted by a sharp rap on the door, and Nikolai whirled toward the sound, his broad frame blocking Jenna's view.

She stepped sideways, her stomach dropping as she saw a suited man standing in the threshold of the door. He was bringing news. Jenna was sure of that, but her vision was still too impaired to read his facial expression.

“Jenna?”

“Yes?”

“I'm Agent Skip Bradley with the DEA.” He pulled something from his pocket and held it out, but Jenna couldn't make out any details.

Nikolai moved toward the man, offering a hand. “I'm Nikolai Jansen.”

“Good to meet you, Nikolai. I'd like to speak with Jenna in private. I'm sure you won't mind waiting out in the hall.”