As the minutes passed, she tried to tell herself she was being idiotic, that he was only holding her so she wouldn’t slide off the console. But it didn’t quite wash. The moment he touched her, he had begun making gentle circular motions over her skin with his fingertips. The thin cloth of her shirt felt almost nonexistent under the searing caresses. To make matters worse, he had long fingers that enabled him to make light passes over the side of her breast without moving his hand from her upper arm.
Was he even aware of what he was doing? Meredith wanted to believe he wasn’t, that he had so many other things on his mind, he was preoccupied. But, somehow, try as she might, she couldn’t quite convince herself of that. In the past, he had always been a perfect gentleman, never so much as looking at her in a way that might have been interpreted as lustful. Now, all of a sudden, he was touching her intimately, as if it were his right.
What had changed? The balance of power had shifted. That was what had changed. Quite simply, he had her over a barrel.
Stop it, Meredith. Just stop it! How can you even think such a thing of him?
Ah, but she could, more was the pity. Once burned, twice shy. It was all too easy for her to believe that the wonderful Heath Masters she had come to know might be nothing more than a façade. That the minute he felt in control, he might show his true colors. Without him, she and Sammy were sunk. She knew it, and he knew it. By accepting his help, she’d given him carte blanche.
From here on out, he no longer had to be a gentleman or play by her rules. He could make them up as he went along. She was his prisoner and in restraints. Even if she filed a complaint against him later for his conduct, who was going to believe her?
She clenched her teeth to keep from saying anything, a part of her knowing that her thoughts were crazy and that she was being entirely unfair. Heath Masters had been nothing but kind to her and Sammy, and now he was going to great lengths to protect them. He’d done nothing, absolutely nothing, to deserve this from her except rest his hand on her shoulder, and here she was, reading all kinds of vile meanings into it. Had Dan completely stripped her of all ability to trust?
Yes. God help her, yes. She had trusted practically everyone once, and that trait had sucked her into the worst nightmare of her life.
“I’ll scratch your back if you’ll scratch mine.” That had been Dan’s favorite saying, and he’d applied it to every aspect of their marriage. He had fed her, clothed her, and provided her with shelter. “Nobody gets somethin’ for nothin’, doll face,” he’d often reminded her. In exchange for all that he gave her, Dan had felt that he owned her. On their wedding night, he had put their marriage certificate in a picture frame and hung it on the wall next to his Dobermans’ pedigrees. “Mary, Gretchen and Otto,” he’d said smugly, and then had begun her obedience training. Up until that moment, Meredith had believed that, next to her dad, Dan Calendri was the gentlest, most wonderful man she’d ever met.
Staring fixedly at the multicolored lights on the dash, she tried to block out Heath’s touch. During her marriage, she had become very good at that little trick, but evidently she was out of practice. Heath Masters’ touch was hard to ignore. He traced the shape of her arm, ran his fingertips along her bra strap, gave her shoulder an occasional gentle squeeze. He was definitely staking his claim, she decided. No one could tantalize so many of her nerve-endings without being aware of what he was doing.
Tears sprang to Meredith’s eyes. Angry tears. The dash lights began to swim in a dizzying blur. At that moment, she hated herself. By distrusting Heath, she was not only doing him a disservice, but she was, in effect, still letting Dan shape her thoughts and control her life. When was she going to get past this? Never?
Trust. Heath was right; it didn’t come easily for her. Yet she had begun to trust him, little by little, one painful inch at a time. And right now, she needed desperately to believe he was every bit as wonderful as he had always seemed—a real life hero, rescuing two fair damsels in distress. Trust was a decision, wasn’t it? So why couldn’t she just decide, for once and for all, to put her complete faith in this man? No doubts. No vile suspicions slithering into her mind every time he innocently did something that reminded her of the past. Just absolute and unconditional trust. After all, if she couldn’t trust Heath Masters, who in the world could she trust?
His fingertips trailed down her bra strap again, then followed the edge of the cup where it curved under her arm. Light touches, and ever so gentle, barely seeming to graze the cloth. Why, then, was she letting them fill her with such a crushing sense of betrayal?
Heath had one thing on his mind: getting to hell out of town as fast as he could make tracks. He had to stop at Meredith’s and his place first. It was risky, but he had no choice. She and Sammy would need clothing where he was taking them, and he had to get his weapons, his ammunition, and what little cash he had stashed in his closet safe. While there, he decided he might as well pack what food he had in the cupboards.
En route, Heath was as jumpy as a frog on hot cement, watching his rearview mirror, sweating when he saw headlights. He was glad Meredith was lying down. She’d been through enough hell for one night. And this was no picnic. Every time he saw a car coming up fast on his back bumper, he felt the jolt as surely as if he’d stuck his finger in a light socket.
Sammy was already asleep in the backseat, still using Goliath as a pillow. Her sweet, little-girl snores made him realize exactly how much was riding on him. Her safety. Her future. Friends, no matter what. God help him, he couldn’t let her down. Or Meredith, either, for that matter. She was putting all her faith in him by doing this, and he knew that couldn’t be easy. Not after everything that bastard, Dan Calendri, had put her through.
He had done the right thing, he assured himself. All else aside, it couldn’t be wrong to protect them. No matter what he had to do, or what it cost him, it couldn’t be wrong.
As he turned onto Hereford Lane, Heath radioed in to speak with Charlie. “I’ll be heading out in just a few minutes,” he told the deputy. “So far, everything’s copacetic at my end. How about yours? Over.”
“No real problems. That Delgado character demanded that we let him make a phone call. Knew his rights. This ain’t his first time in the hoosegow, that’s for sure. Over.”
“Did you let him use the phone? Over.”
“That’s an affirmative. Over.”
“Did you monitor the conversation? Over.”
“Negative. I went and stuck my nose in a girlie magazine.”
Heath chuckled. “Who’d he call?”
“Somebody in Noo York. Before I could shove a sock in it, he blabbed that you left with the woman and kid. How the hell he knew that, I don’t know. Somebody yackin’ in front of him back in the cell block is my guess. Sorry. I didn’t know he knew. Over.”
“No problem, Charlie. The word was bound to leak, and I’ll be gone before reinforcements can arrive from New York.”
“Keep your head low. I don’t like the look of that dude, Delgado. He’s a mean son buck. Eyes like a lizard. Over.”
Heath keyed the mike. “You’ve got him pegged. Unless I encounter trouble, I probably won’t call back in until tomorrow afternoon.”
“Take care. Watch your back. Over.”
“I will, Charlie. Hold down the fort for me. Masters, out.”
Once at Meredith’s place, Heath was none too pleased to learn that all their clothing was already packed in the trunk of Meredith’s car. Along with other items, her purse had been confiscated by his deputies as evidence and taken to the department. Her car keys were inside it.
“What are we going to do?” she asked, struggling to sit up.
“We aren’t going to do anything. Just stay down!” he ordered. “I’ll take care of it.”
He opened the trunk with a tire iron. By the time he had accomplished that little feat, he was damned glad he hadn’t chosen street crime as a way to make a living. He would have starved to death. He pried, jerked,
pushed, pulled, and cussed, tearing the trunk lid all to hell, but still not getting it open. In the end, he resorted to wedging the tire iron under the latch and jumping on the handle with both feet. When the trunk finally popped open, he was sweating like a horse.
After rummaging through the boxes, he took only those that looked as if they held clothing. From Meredith’s place, he went directly to his, making short work of gathering his guns, the ammo, and what food he had on hand. When he got everything stowed in the back of his Bronco, his rig looked like something straight out of The Grapes of Wrath. Hell, he’d even tossed in dog food and dog dishes.
“How long do I have to stay down?” Meredith asked shortly after he got back out on the road. “I’m getting a crimp in my side.”
Heath felt bad for having snapped at her when she tried to sit up. But, damn. If she was right, and Glen Calendri actually had organized crime connections, the men chasing her were real bad asses. He couldn’t take a chance that she might be seen. Against rapid-fire automatic weapons, his guns in the back of the Bronco would be about as effective as peashooters.
“Not too long now.” He reached down to cup his hand over her shoulder again. “I’m sorry I jumped down your throat back there. I know lying on that thing can’t be very comfortable. You can sit up just as soon as we hit the highway. All right? Once we’re on the outskirts of town, the chances that you’ll be seen will be next to zero.”
“Thank goodness. Every time you stop and start, I almost go flying.”
He chuckled. “I’ve got you. Just relax.”
She didn’t.
Fifteen minutes later, Heath drove past the sheriff’s department en route to the highway exit. Everything looked quiet. He saw no cars parked near the facility to indicate it was being watched. That was definitely a good sign.
The headlights that had been hanging back about a mile behind him weren’t. He wasn’t sure exactly when the vehicle had fallen in behind him. He only knew it had stuck with him through three turns and was still holding fast.
Probably nothing, he assured himself. Hell, there was nothing suspicious about another car being on the road. Right? At this time of night, the highway to the mountains didn’t normally have that much traffic, but there was always some, and the count increased at this time of year when people began flocking to the lakes. Because of the steep grades and sharp curves, most folks drove up before dark, but there were always the exceptions.
At the turn-off, Heath helped Meredith to sit back up. She sighed with relief at no longer having to lie twisted across the console, and he guessed he couldn’t blame her.
“There’s a recreation park about fifteen miles from here,” he told her. “I’ll pull over there and take off those cuffs.”
She leaned against her door, her face glowing like a pale mask in the light from the dash. Huddled there that way, she looked like a young girl, a very frightened young girl. “You mean I’m not going to have to wear them? I thought—well, I understood that I was still arrested and your prisoner. Aren’t you supposed to keep me in restraints?”
“It’s regulation, something we’re all trained to do as a safety precaution. Keeps a prisoner from taking an officer by surprise.” He glanced over at her and winked. “Under the circumstances, though, I think we can dispense with the formalities. If you get squirrelly on me, I think I can handle you.”
“I’ll appreciate not having to wear handcuffs. Thank you.”
He nodded toward the radio. “I’ve been keeping an ear open, and I haven’t heard anything from Charlie. No problems at his end yet. Try to relax, why don’t you? When we get the cuffs off, maybe you can get a little rest.”
She was silent for a second. “Do you think we’re home free?”
He didn’t, but judging by her pallor, she needed reassurance. He was worrying enough for both of them. “It sure looks that way.”
“Where, exactly, are we going?”
“An old high school buddy of mine has a hunting cabin up near Emerald Lake.”
“What’s it like up there?”
“Beautiful country, open for as far as you can see. The cabin’s nothing fancy. Two bedrooms, a kitchen, and a sitting area. No electricity. But it does have indoor plumbing. Gravity fed. I’ve gone up with him and know where he puts the key.”
“Tell me the truth. Do you think we’ll be safe there?”
“As safe as we can get. Like I said, it’s way to hell and gone out in the middle of nowhere. Nothing but a rutted, dirt road leading in to it. I doubt a two-wheel drive would even make it, and it’d be a hell of a trek on foot.”
She turned her face toward her window. “There aren’t many houses out this way, are there?”
“No. And they’ll get scarcer. A few miles farther up the road, there are only vacation homes, mostly around the lake, some peppering the forests. It’s a popular hunting and fishing area up there.”
The isolation up at the cabin would be both good and bad, Heath thought. On the one hand, unexpected visitors would be unlikely. On the other hand, though, there was always the possibility someone might find them, and in that event, they would be a long way from any kind of help.
He clenched his hands on the steering wheel, trying to sort and organize everything Meredith had told him. Organized crime, mob killings, vicious Dobermans. Some of it sounded almost too fantastic to be true. But, by the same token, he remembered reading an article recently about union corruption and links between top officials and organized crime.
Heath knew next to nothing about large-scale crime networks. He’d seen enough movies about them to know they existed and that men in the ranks—thugs, goons, soldiers, or whatever else you wanted to call them—were shrewd, well-trained, and merciless in the execution of their orders. When Heath thought about battling it out with dudes like that, it scared the piss out of him. But, then, he figured he’d have to be nuts not to be a whole lot scared.
The highway narrowed to two lanes as they climbed into the sharp mountain curves. Heath devoted his full concentration to his driving and watching the rearview mirror. Every few minutes as he brought the Bronco out of a curve, he glimpsed headlights coming into the turn behind him.
He increased his speed and began watching for a side road, preferably a dirt logging route. The Bronco was a high-clearance, all-terrain, four-wheel drive, and he could take it places a car couldn’t follow. If he dropped off the main highway, cut his lights, and drove like a bat out of hell, he could probably lose anyone trying to tail him. If, of course, it was a tail. Maybe he was just being paranoid. But the way he figured it, better to be safe than sorry.
Unfortunately, they were into the sharp curves, and there were no cut-offs. At least not any that he saw. What he did see were headlights coming up fast behind him. Too fast. He tromped the gas pedal.
“Wh—What are you doing?” Meredith asked.
“Is Sammy still buckled up?”
She glanced back. “Yes, but she has the belt loose to lie down. Why?”
“Tighten the slack.”
“I can’t.”
He remembered the handcuffs and swore under his breath. He hadn’t buckled Meredith into her seat because he’d wanted her to lie down. “Then all you can do is brace yourself. Get your feet up under the dash and push back as hard as you can against the seat. I think we may be in for a rough ride.”
“Why?”
Before he could reply, the car rammed into them. The jolt knocked the Bronco’s back end sideways just as it nosed into a curve, and the vehicle went into a broad slide, the tires squealing.
“Damn!”
Heath had barely managed to regain control when the other car rammed the Bronco again.
Chapter 21
“Oh, my God!” Meredith cried as the Bronco crashed against the guardrail. “Heath? Heath! Don’t let them roll us! Oh, God, don’t let them roll us!”
She twisted in the seat, trying to see Sammy. The child had awakened with a start and was shrieking in terror. �
��Mommy! Mommy!”
Meredith would have given anything to be in the backseat holding her daughter. But in handcuffs, she couldn’t even reach for her. Through the rear window, she saw the headlights coming up fast again on their back bumper. In the nimbus of light, she was able to tell that the other car was a light-colored, full-sized sedan.
“Watch out!” she screamed. “They’re coming at us again!” The Bronco jerked at the impact. She fell hard against the door, cracking her head on the window. For a second, all she could see was black spots.
“Get your feet under the dash, dammit! Brace yourself!”
Meredith knew Heath was right. She would be of no use to Sammy if she went through the windshield. She turned in the seat and pushed hard against the floorboard with her feet. In the backseat, Goliath began to bark, the sounds nearly drowning out Sammy’s pathetic wailing.
The expression on Heath’s face was frightening. The glow of the dash lights etched his features with an eerie green iridescence and reflected off his tousled dark hair. His lips were drawn back from his white teeth in a snarl. He darted glances at the rearview and side mirrors, his hands clenched on the steering wheel as he fought for control of the vehicle. He seemed to know instinctively what to do, turning sharply into the direction of the slide, then correcting to bring the rear of the Bronco back around.
“All right, you sons of bitches!” he said as he righted the vehicle. “You wanna play rough? Come and get it!”
He slammed on the brakes. The sedan behind them was forced into the opposite lane to avoid the unexpected collision. As the automobile came alongside the Bronco, Heath swung the steering wheel hard to the left, careening into the other lane and knocking the car off the road. Meredith watched in horrified astonishment. In the darkness, the sedan’s headlights appeared to be unattached orbs, bouncing crazily through the blackness, illuminating trees and boulders in dizzying, erratic flashes.
Then she realized the force of the sideswipe had sent the Bronco careening to the right and into a skid. Just as Heath managed to regain control, the four-wheel drive’s right rear tire lost traction on the gravel shoulder, and the vehicle began to fishtail. Meredith thought sure they were going to crash, but with impressive driving skill, Heath brought the Bronco to a stop just inches before it plunged sideways into a deep ditch at the edge of the road. The engine coughed and died.