Star Witness (11 page)

“Where are we going?” Dani asked, hanging back as he unlocked it.

“This goes to the alley. It’s our only chance.”

“What happened?” she cried. “How did they find us?”

“I don’t know. I’ll go first. Make sure they’re not out there waiting for us.” He unlocked the door to the outside and slipped through. With any luck, the men hadn’t noticed the delivery door. They’d be guarding the front and back, poised to grab Dani when she was forced out by the smoke and flames. With a little luck, he just might get her out alive.

Harte pressed himself flat against the clapboard wall of the B & B. The rain was punishing, but the narrow overhang of the roof kept the worst off him. It didn’t help with his vision, though. The veil of falling water obscured everything beyond a couple of feet. And if that weren’t bad enough, it turned to steam as soon as it hit the hot asphalt. Everything was enveloped in swirling gray. Harte couldn’t see anything or anyone. And he could barely hear through the rain’s dull roar.

Dani touched his arm. “Harte?”

He held out his hand. “It’s okay. Come on,” he said as loudly as he could to be heard over the rain, “but be quiet.”

She took his hand and stepped through the doorway, ducking her head and hunching her shoulders against the rain. She clutched her purse tightly. “Is it safe?” she asked.

Harte squinted at her, blinking against raindrops. “No, but it’s the best chance we’ve—” He stopped. “Shh. Hold it,” he whispered. Sure enough, he heard shouts coming from the front of the house.

He tugged on her hand. “Come on. We’re going that way, up Race Street.” He gestured in the opposite direction. “Can you keep up with me?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said firmly.

He looked her up and down. She had on sneakers, thank goodness, and that huge purse was draped across her body like a messenger bag.

He plunged into the gray sheet of rain with Dani right behind him. He didn’t want to run. They were too handicapped by the rain and the nearly impenetrable darkness. Of course the bad guys were handicapped by the downpour as well, but judging by the two men they’d seen and the shouts he’d heard, he feared that he and Dani were outnumbered by at least four to two.

All he could do was trust his instincts and try to get Dani to someplace safe.

He moved as fast as he could, tugging her with him until, out of nowhere, he stepped into a pothole. “Ahh!” he cried as his leg collapsed beneath him. He winced as pain shot up his leg from his ankle. He flexed it gently. To his relief, he could move it.

“Harte!” Dani knelt beside him as he tried to push himself to his feet. But when he put his weight on the ankle, a sharp throbbing stabbed him to the bone.
Damn it.
It was sprained. He knew from the first- and second-aid preparation courses he’d taken as a precaution for solo backpacking trips that he needed to wrap it as soon as he could. But right now he had no choice but to grit his teeth and bear it.

Dani touched his foot with her hand. “Is it broken?” she asked.

He grabbed her hand. “Get up. We’ve got to go.” He knew the ankle was just sprained, not broken, but it hurt like a son of a bitch even so.

He pulled her to the edge of the alley. The rain was in his eyes, soaking his clothes and shoes. He tried his best to see whether there was a vehicle waiting for them on the far side, where the alley opened out onto Orange Street.

As far as he could tell, both the alley and the street beyond it were clear. He wiped his face on the drenched sleeve of his white shirt. It didn’t help.

He headed across, pulling Dani with him, doing his best not to limp. A pair of glowing orbs was visible in the distance.

Headlights.

Dani saw it too. She squeezed his hand. “Harte! A car!”

“Hurry, before they see us.” The vehicle was approaching much faster than it should have been, considering that the driver had to be barreling blindly through the rain.

They headed across the street and ducked under an overhang. Without the rain beating down on them, they both leaned gratefully against the side of the building, trying to catch their breaths.

Suddenly, the whole street lit up as another flash of lightning ripped through the sky, followed by a deafening roar. The rain, which was already a downpour, now fell in sheets.

“Harte—” Dani cried.

He blinked as he desperately tried to see through the beating rain. It was dangerous and stupid to stumble blindly around without knowing where they were headed.

He’d studied the streets near the B & B, but the combination of the rain and the darkness was doubly disorienting, and there was no hope of reading a street sign from more than a few inches away.

“Harte!” She tugged on his shirtsleeve and stood on tiptoe to get close to his ear. “Look. The headlights aren’t moving.”

He focused on the pallid, blurry spots of the headlights. They were still. He blinked and looked again. The vehicle was still moving, but more slowly. Then he noticed dark shadows in front of it, heading in their direction. But he couldn’t tell how many. Two? Three?

“It’s them!” Dani cried.

Harte tightened his hand around her wrist and jerked her with him as he ran unevenly, gritting his teeth against the pain in his ankle.

He spotted a darker rectangle in the midst of the gray. The entrance to the alley? God, he hoped so. If he was wrong, they’d be sitting ducks. He sped up, tightening his grip on Dani’s wrist.

But moving forward through the rain was like pushing through a maze of heavy drapes while fording a stream, because the water rushing around their feet was at least three inches deep, making the roads slippery. And the pain in his ankle wasn’t helping. He stumbled and his fingers slipped off Dani’s wrist.

That quickly, she was gone.

Dani lost her footing when her hand slid out of Harte’s grip. Her knee hit the wet pavement, hard. With a small cry she tried to regain her footing. But the road was too slippery; the rain pressed on her shoulders like a heavy hand and she was quickly losing strength from fighting it.

Where was Harte? She squinted through the rain and held her breath, listening. The drumming roar of the rain was confusing and disorienting. It was impossible to tell where any sound came from.

Straining, she thought she heard Harte’s voice calling her name. But she couldn’t tell for sure. Heading in what she hoped was the right direction, she was tempted to call out, but what if it wasn’t him? Was she heading toward Harte or was she about to plow right into her pursuers?

She wiped her face on her sleeve, for all the good it did, and pushed her heavy, soaked hair back.

At that instant, the roar in her ears changed in pitch. She squinted, as if that would help her see. A dark rumble rose from beneath the rain’s din. The sound was not thunder, but mechanical, rhythmic. Like a car engine.

Frightened by the closeness of the sound, she felt the hairs on the nape of her neck prickling. She blinked, trying to see. Why didn’t Harte call out again? She couldn’t tell which way to run. The rumble grew louder, seeming to surround her.

Lightning flashed. She swallowed a shriek and barely stopped herself from diving to the ground, but from what little she could see around her, she was in the middle of a street, completely exposed. Thunder cracked and roared. She moaned in fear and frustration as she trudged on.

Pushing against the rising, punishing wind, she squinted, looking for anything she could use for shelter. A dark building loomed just ahead. Her pulse jumped in excitement.

She trudged toward it, hoping to slip into an alley or a corner where the car couldn’t go, praying that she could find Harte.

As she wiped rain off her nose, she thought she heard his voice again. But then a car door slammed right behind her. That sound was unmistakable—and way too close. Terror crawled up her spine and twisted her insides. She had to run. Lowering her head, she pressed forward, her legs beginning to ache with the effort of pushing against the wind and rain. She prayed she was going in the right direction.

The rain, the lightning and her imagination were distorting everything—what she saw, what she heard. She squinted against the gray rain. She could no longer see the building she’d been headed for.

Her toe struck something and sent her sprawling. Her hands took the brunt of the fall, sliding and scraping across rough wet concrete, and her shin banged painfully against a hard edge. She bit her cheek to keep from crying out.

She’d tripped over a curb. Behind her, heavy footsteps reverberated across the ground. She didn’t dare turn around to see, but she knew from the sound that they were almost on top of her. With a great deal of effort, she managed to get her feet under her and gain some traction. Just as she straightened, a bright flash of lightning lit the street. This time she couldn’t resist. She turned to look.

A large dark form barreled toward her, too big and broad to be Harte. In the same second, she heard Harte’s voice clearly.

“Dani!”

But it was impossible to pinpoint where it had come from. Directly in front of her? Ahead and to the left? She heard the man chasing her and wondered if she had time to dig her gun out of her purse. But he was too close. So close she could see color beginning to seep through the gray. The dark blob turned to a dull tan, and as he lumbered toward her she realized that it was a raincoat with the collar turned up. Although she’d already figured out that it wasn’t Harte, still her throat seized, cutting off her breath.

She tried to run and almost fell again when she put her weight on her knee. “Harte! Here! They’re after me!” she screamed. She didn’t care if the man in the raincoat heard her. He was so close that she imagined she could hear his heaving breaths over the downpour. Letting Harte know her location was her only chance.

“Harte!” she shouted again, but her voice was gobbled up by thunder. Then a strong hand grabbed the back of her shirt and jerked her off her feet.

Chapter Nine

Harte heard Dani’s terrified scream, cut off by thunder, but he couldn’t tell where she was. He’d been retracing his steps ever since he lost hold of her hand. She should have been only a few feet behind him, if she’d stayed put. She must have gotten turned around and been moving away from him all this time.

He heard another short cry. Had they found her? He pushed forward, praying that the shriek he’d heard had just been her startled reaction to the thunder and lightning.

Then he saw it. A big black shadow, rising out of the mist. The car. He slowed down, cautiously keeping an eye on it. Then he detected another difference in the constant gray of rain and wind. He wiped his face, then blinked. He saw movement. Something large and brown and vaguely human shaped. It had to be one of Yeoman’s men.

Did he have Dani? Harte couldn’t tell. He moved slowly and steadily toward the man, hoping not to attract notice. But then he caught a splash of red—her shirt. Adrenaline burned through him like flaming jet fuel.

The man did have her. He was dragging her toward the car.

Harte had only one chance and it was a slim one. Balancing himself on his right foot, he dove, aiming at the man’s knees. He hit what felt like solid rock. The impact rattled his teeth and echoed in his head, but the man fell like a dead tree, slamming into the pavement.

Harte ducked and rolled out of his way. He came to rest not ten inches from the front fender of the car. It was smashed and the headlights were broken—damaged, no doubt, from ramming Dani’s front porch. Glancing over his shoulder, Harte saw the big man flip over onto his stomach. He waved his arms and legs like a turtle, trying to get his hands underneath him. Too soon, the man managed to get to his hands and knees. He shook his massive head and made a noise that echoed through the pounding rain like a lion’s roar. Then he propelled himself forward.

Harte scrambled to his feet. The goon had brute strength going for him, but he was about as graceful as a bull elephant. Harte heard his sawing breaths coming closer and closer.

Harte waited until the last possible second, hoping that the other man was as disoriented by the rain as he was, before diving out of the way. Luckily, the brute had built up enough momentum that he couldn’t stop. He obviously counted on Harte to break his fall. He hit the ground, hard.

Harte regained his balance and looked inside the attacker’s car. It was empty. Dani wasn’t there. Hot fear pulsed through him. Where was she? Did one of the other men have her?

And where were the other three men?

Were they on foot, sneaking around to ambush him, or had they taken Dani somewhere? As he turned, he caught a glimpse of a dark figure rising from behind a trash receptacle. Another man rose right beside him. Before he could react, both men lifted their arms and he heard the unmistakable crack of gunfire muffled by the rain. Before the shots faded, he heard Dani scream behind him.

“Dani!” he yelled, whirling and spotting a splash of red through the gray curtain of rain. It was Dani! She was on the ground, several feet away from the car. His gut clenched. Had she been hit?

He sprang toward her, wrapping his fingers around her upper arm and yanking her upright, quickly scanning her clothes for blood. He didn’t see any. “Are you hit?” he yelled.

“No!” She shook her head. “Are you?”

Behind them, he heard car doors opening and closing. He tried to count, but the sounds were too muffled by the storm. Maybe two, maybe three. The men had gotten back into the car.

“They’re in the car. Run!” he shouted before pumping his legs, pulling her with him. Behind them, more gunshots rang out and he heard men shouting. He pulled her behind a parked van.

“Get that shirt off!” he cried.

“What? My shirt?”

He turned her around and grabbed the collar, jerking it over her head. “It’s too bright.”

After tossing it over a nearby parking meter, Harte pointed toward a narrow alleyway in front of them and yelled in her ear, “Through there!” Grabbing her arm, he tightened his grip. He wasn’t going to lose her again.

Dani half ran, half stumbled alongside Harte. The only thing that kept her from collapsing onto the drenched pavement was the painful grasp of his hand on her arm—the same arm the thug had bruised when he’d grabbed her.