Stowaway (3 page)

His deep, bronze tan suggested health and vitality though he looked a little pale right now. With thick, wavy black hair and dark chocolate eyes, he’d caused a sensation with the ladies in town. He stood about eight inches above her five foot two and oozed sex appeal.

The mostly Caucasian, Protestant community of Thornsbury rarely had attractive visitors, especially one of different ethnic origin. So he’d been watched, analyzed and fantasized about all week. Keri had gotten tired of her friends and neighbors drooling over him.

His profession squashed her curiosity. Good, bad, ugly or handsome, she had no interest. One thing she didn’t need in her life was another officer of the law watching over her. The last two things she wanted right now were a cop and a patient. She hadn’t taken a vacation in two years, and she badly needed time to herself. She had her own plans and didn’t want them jeopardized by some fly-by-night Romeo.

“Lean forward,” she told him after tossing the bulk of his shirt toward an empty trash bag. She grabbed a towel, soaked it in water, and draped it over his injured shoulder to loosen the dried blood. “You really should be in the hospital.”

He grunted in response.

“Are you allergic to any common drugs?”

“No.”

Keri could tell he’d reached the end of what must be considerable strength. She hoped he didn’t go into shock. She could give him something for fever and infection, but her emergency medical supplies were limited. She handed him pain pills and antibiotics along with a glass of water.

“If you want me to call the hospital, I can send an SOS. It wouldn’t take them too long.”

“No.”

“You probably need blood.”

“Yeah.”

“If the bullet is lodged, I don’t have any anesthetic to give you while I remove it.”

“It’s not.”

“If you don’t need surgery, the very least you’ll need is stitches. Do you think you’re so tough you can handle that without an anesthetic?”

“Yeah.”

Keri supposed he could handle it. At this point, he was barely conscious. He’d probably pass out during the stitching. She hoped he had a high tolerance for pain.

After lifting the towel from his shoulder, she began peeling fabric from his wound, gradually easing closer to him. The chair sat against the wall, and his head dropped back for support.

He watched her through half-closed eyes shadowed by the most incredible lashes she’d ever seen on anyone. The long, thick sweep of lash had just the slightest curl at the ends. His hair had the thick, mussed look of barely controlled waves. A matching pelt of hair covered his chest.

She’d seen plenty of chests—broad, puny, muscled, wimpy, smooth and hairy. She wasn’t easily impressed, yet she had to give the visiting cop a ten out of ten.

“Mind telling me why you got shot?” she asked in an effort to keep her mind off her patient’s physique.

“Yeah.”

Okay. He didn’t want to confide in her. No big surprise there. Judging by the heat radiating from him, he’d soon be succumbing to the fever. She could wait for answers.

Keri cleaned his shoulder with water and anti-bacterial solution. The bullet had slashed the flesh, slicing like a knife rather than ripping a ragged hole. He’d been lucky, but it still had to be giving him considerable pain.

She leaned closer and poked the area with forceps, but couldn’t see any bone fragment or detached muscle tissue. A sharply indrawn breath reminded her that her patient could feel her probing.

“Sorry.” She hated hurting anyone but couldn’t avoid it without anesthesia. “It’s not torn too badly, but I have to stitch some tissue back together before the outer skin can start healing. It looks like you might be able to get by with six or eight well-placed stitches.”

“How many for a faster heal?”

“A dozen or so small stitches would be best,” she admitted, “but it’ll take me longer and it’ll hurt like hell.”

“Just do it.”

Keri clenched her teeth. Mr. Macho might think he could stand the additional pain, but inflicting it didn’t hold much appeal to her. He’d pass out. She just didn’t know how much he’d suffer until he did.

“You’ll have to lie down in the living room before I start,” she explained, knowing she couldn’t handle the bulk of his weight once he fell unconscious.

For just an instant, their gazes locked, her eyes bright with annoyance, his piercing as he studied her. Even though Keri knew fever fueled the enervating glitter in his gaze, she felt a ripple of reaction over every inch of her body. It was not a reaction she welcomed or appreciated.

“I’ll need some help,” he stated flatly.

No please, no polite request for assistance. Just a bald statement suggesting she should help him. Sometimes she found men, especially the arrogant ones, incredibly irritating.

Correction. She always found them incredibly irritating.

Well-honed muscles flexed as he pressed his good hand against the tabletop to boost himself out of the chair. She slid an arm around his waist for support when he began to waver. He felt like a rock-solid inferno of heat. The press of his flesh against hers seared her skin, inflaming every nerve ending that came in contact with his muscled form.

Then years of professionalism kicked into gear. She allowed him to rest most of his weight on her, but she’d forgotten about piling supplies on the sofa. Fatigue made her careless. Her brain and body would go into total meltdown soon.

“Can you stand on your own?”

“Yeah.”

Swiftly, with Lamanto wavering on his feet, she grabbed a fresh sheet from her stack of supplies, spread in over the sofa and moved everything else to the floor. Then she helped him lie down with his injured shoulder toward her.

The small amount of exertion had him sweating and caused the wound to start bleeding again. She soaked a clean cloth with more antibacterial solution and put it on his shoulder while she collected supplies. Then she dropped to her knees beside him. He’d already passed out or fallen asleep so she quickly stitched his wound with small, close sutures.

Her patient wouldn’t have time for a slow recovery and rehabilitation. He’d be checked out at the emergency room, interrogated and possibly incarcerated. What a waste, especially if he’d been a good cop at one time.

It didn’t make sense to her, but she’d been raised by one of the finest law officers ever born. Her daddy remained her hero even if he sometimes drove her crazy. How often had she heard him say a bad cop could do twice the harm of a good criminal?

Shaking her head, she forced herself to concentrate on the patient and not the situation. Lamanto uttered an occasional low moan of pain but didn’t thrash around too much.

After applying a sterile bandage to her handiwork, Keri began cleaning up after herself. She needed to radio her dad about this latest development in her vacation plans, yet she was reluctant to make the call.

First off, she didn’t think Lamanto presented much of a threat right now. He was really weak and would probably stay that way for several days. Secondly, she didn’t want half of Thornsbury rushing to her rescue.

She knew her family and friends had her best interests at heart. Ever since a car accident had killed her mother and left her badly injured, they’d smothered her with concern. Sometimes she thought she’d go mad if she didn’t escape.

Maybe she could help Lamanto recuperate and send him on his way. No one would be the wiser, she thought.

No. Of course not. She couldn’t aid and abet a criminal. On the other hand, he hadn’t been convicted of anything or even charged with a crime. They just wanted him for questioning. A person of interest, her dad said.

Shaking her head, she reminded herself she didn’t want to get involved. She’d had it with men, from the men in her family to the ones who dated her because they wanted free medical advice, some help with a law enforcement problem or just sex.

Keri abruptly decided to go to the rangers for help. She checked Lamanto’s vital signs again to assure herself he’d be all right until help arrived.

As soon as she was rid of her unwelcome guest, she could get on with her own plans. Her mother had lost her life on this mountain a little over two years ago. The wreck had been officially declared an accident. Keri had been a passenger. She hadn’t remembered anything directly afterward, but over the past year bits and pieces of the memory kept nagging her.

She’d come up here to do some sleuthing, both for the sake of the truth and to help her come to terms with what had happened. Maybe liven up her boring existence. She longed for adventure and excitement. Amateur sleuthing would have to fill the bill for now.

Sighing, she pulled a blanket over Lamanto. Finding him in her car wasn’t the sort of excitement she’d expected and exhaustion had dampened her adventurous spirit.

The cabin sat too deep in the forest for any kind of phone service, so she’d have to drive to the ranger station. They could collect Lamanto and then maybe she’d get some much-needed sleep. Snatching up her purse, she shot one last glance at her stowaway as she headed out the door.

An eerie, unnatural stillness engulfed her as soon as she’d stepped off the porch. Cool, damp air and darkness gave her goose bumps. She hadn’t been the least bit spooked when she’d arrived earlier. The cabin had always been a second home to her family, but now she felt a shiver of fear. She blamed it on weariness and Lamanto’s unexpected appearance.

After climbing in the car and slamming the door, she clicked the locks and pulled on her seatbelt, feeling a little less panicked. The engine revved to life, and she shifted into reverse and started to turn around in the small clearing. When she shifted back into drive again, the engine died. She frowned and repeated the process, pressing the gas pedal to feed the engine. Still, it ignited and died. A red light on the dash flashed a warning. Her fuel gauge read empty.

“No way!” she groaned in frustration. She’d filled the tank at the bottom of the mountain. The cost had given her sticker shock. The gauge had to be faulty.

“Come on, come on,” she grumbled, turning the key again, but with the same results. It wouldn’t keep running.

Groaning aloud, she dropped her head down on the steering wheel with a thud. How could she be out of gas? She’d had the car thoroughly checked before her trip, and she hadn’t run over anything to damage the fuel line. How else could all that incredibly expensive gasoline be drained?

A sudden thought popped into her head. Gas theft. She’d heard her dad mention a rash of gasoline thefts since the price had skyrocketed.

Had someone watched her fill up and followed her to the cabin? Or had someone at the station alerted someone who lived closer? A shiver raced down her spine. She lifted her head and quickly surveyed the area around her but didn’t see anything in the shadowy darkness.

Was someone out there now? Watching her? Thieves hiding or living in the woods? Locals? Cabins stood few and far between up here. Transportation was essential. If they’d steal a basic necessity, what else might they do?

She didn’t like the feeling of panic crawling over her, making the hair stand up on her arms. Another quiver coursed down her spine. Feeling like a real wimp, she pulled her cell phone off the dash charger and hit the speed dial for her home phone number.

A
no service
message flashed on the screen, and she let out a long, loud groan. Cell service up here was spotty at best. She’d known that but had actually welcomed being cut off from the constant communication. After punching the button again and receiving the same message, she tossed the phone into her oversized pocketbook and cursed.

How many other glitches could she expect in her carefully planned, long-awaited vacation? Movement in her peripheral vision made her stiffen in renewed alarm. Just some nocturnal creature, she assured herself while holding her breath. When nothing and no one materialized after a couple minutes, she let out a long sigh.

The cabin suddenly looked like a haven from the unknown. She’d have to make a run for it, but first she had to find the nerve. Wimpy wouldn’t get it. Adventure and excitement took a certain amount of courage, she argued to herself. She couldn’t be balking at imagined threats. She had to look fear in the face and overcome it.

With that thought, she unbuckled her belt, jumped from the car and ran. The nip in the air bit her flesh as she raced toward the porch and its faint beacon of light. Sweating and shivering, she made the dash without being attacked by unknown assailants. As soon as she got inside, she slammed and locked the door behind her.

Breathless from jitters as well as exertion, she leaned against the doorframe, her chest heaving. As she caught her breath, she glanced at Lamanto and relaxed a little. He hadn’t moved a muscle and his presence calmed her. Ridiculous! She didn’t need a man to make her feel safe, yet…

“Better the devil you know…” she whispered, and then hurried toward the bedroom. The furnishings consisted of a double bed, a dresser and a nightstand. She checked the lock on the window and closed the curtains. Next she went through the bathroom to the kitchen and then into a small utility room off the back porch. After checking more locks, she sat down at the small short-wave radio.

She couldn’t contact the sheriff’s office in Thornsbury, but she could relay a message to her dad through the ranger station. It took a few minutes to familiarize herself with the controls, and then she started to chant the call letters.

A slight movement to her left caught her attention, and the words got stuck in her throat. Her eyes went wide at the sight of her dad’s pistol being leveled on her.

Her pulse had just calmed and it leapt again, then began racing as she looked into Lamanto’s dark, deadly gaze.

Chapter Three

“Shut it off.”

He issued the command in a tone as threatening as his expression. Keri stared at his frozen features, studying him intently, but saw no evidence of weakness.

Most people in her position would fear for their life. After the initial shock, fear took second place to self-disgust. How could she have been stupid enough to think he was totally incapacitated?