Copyright © 2011 Becky Barker
All rights reserved — a Samhain Publishing, Ltd. publication
“Keri! Hold up! Telephone!”
Nick willed her not to ignore the summons.
“I am officially on vacation!” she shouted.
“It’s your dad. And I already told him I could catch you,” came the apologetic reply. “You know if you don’t talk to him, he’ll sic the whole sheriff’s department on you.”
Nick heard Keri’s loud sigh and held his breath until she shut off the engine, hopped out the door and slammed it shut again. She dashed toward the emergency entrance where she got swallowed by the electronic doors.
Just the break he needed. She’d left her window down far enough for him to reach inside and unlock the back door. About damn time something went his way, thought Nick. He sent up a silent prayer of thanks to any saint who might still be watching over him.
It took only an instant to unlock the back door. It should have been easy to slide his legs under the piles of clothes and shut the door, but his useless arm made his movements sluggish and awkward. He jarred his shoulder, shooting pain over his body and making him so lightheaded he almost lost consciousness.
Get a grip, Lamanto, keep moving!
The mental nagging had gotten him this far, so he didn’t cut himself a break. Once he’d finally gotten settled with his head directly behind the driver’s seat, he managed to pull the door closed. Gritting his teeth against more pain, he struggled to adjust his length to the uneven space. Then he made sure he’d completely concealed himself before shifting the bulk of his weight onto his wounded left shoulder.
More pain radiated through him. His stomach roiled and threatened to upchuck. He took several deep breaths until the pain became bearable and his struggle for air less harsh. The pressure against the wound would halt the bleeding, and, if he got really lucky, maybe even numb his arm.
He’d barely had time to regulate his breathing before Keri returned. She shouted a final goodbye as she climbed behind the wheel, slammed the door and set the locks. Next he heard the whir of her window being closed. She switched on the radio, and country music blasted at a deafening volume.
Nick offered another silent prayer. With the radio blaring, any noise he made would go unnoticed. He might be able to get some desperately needed rest.
Once the pain in his shoulder had dulled to a slow throb, total exhaustion settled in. It was a relief to be off his feet and safely hidden even in such a cramped position. He didn’t know where his unsuspecting hostess planned to go, but he hoped it was far, far from home.
Then, if luck held out a little longer, she’d decide to get a good night’s rest before unloading the SUV. Given a little time, he would be long gone. She’d never have to know she’d helped him escape.
His satisfaction with the situation wavered when the vehicle made a sharp right turn, throwing him sideways. He stifled a groan, adjusted his position and braced his foot against the opposite door so it wouldn’t happen again.
The sheriff’s daughter had a lead foot and had a reckless streak behind the wheel. Her driving habits probably gave everyone in town fits. From what he’d overheard in his short stay, every member of the tight-knit community concerned him or herself with Miss Merritt’s welfare.
Her petite stature gave the impression of fragility, but she looked healthy and capable to him. She had big hazel eyes and light brown hair cut in a short, sassy style. Her chin had a stubborn set to it, warning people not to mess with her. Nothing about the lady hinted at weakness or vulnerability.
Having met more than his fair share of trauma nurses, he knew most of them had more stamina than men twice their size. Still, this one seemed to appeal to everyone’s protective nature.
Nick felt a change in their motion once they’d cleared the corporation limits and headed down the highway. They made no more stops and starts at intersections or sharply turned corners. The lights of town faded and a more intense darkness settled over him as the SUV picked up speed. He empathized with Keri in her desire to leave Thornsbury, Tennessee and its residents behind her. If he never set foot in the town again, it would be too soon.
Within a few miles, they’d probably be running into the first roadblock. He didn’t know how the authorities were dealing with his disappearance, but he’d be considered armed and dangerous. They’d probably labeled him a person of interest in the investigation of Don Monroe’s shooting. If Don survived, the charge would be aggravated assault of a law enforcement officer. If he died, suspicion of murder. Nick prayed his old buddy had survived.
When the SUV began a gradual slow down, he tensed again, figuring they’d encountered a roadblock. Who would be at this particular post? The county sheriff’s deputies or the state highway patrol?
He didn’t have long to wonder. The volume on the radio went low, the power window whirred and Keri called out into the night.
“Hey, big brother, don’t you have anything better to do on a Saturday night than stand by the side of the road?”
Nick recognized Deputy Jack Merritt’s voice as he approached the vehicle.
“Hey, Sis, I expected you through here an hour ago.” When he stepped closer, he added, “You look totally wiped. Are you sure you want to drive up to the cabin after back-to-back shifts? Why don’t you go home and get a few hours’ sleep first?”
“I don’t need sleep, I need distance,” she argued. “You know it takes me longer to unwind after working sixteen straight.”
“Have a hard time getting away tonight?”
“You’d think I was leaving home for good instead of just going on vacation.”
“Everybody had another word of advice to offer?”
“A word or two or a million,” she teased. “Including our father who called one last time.”
“He worries.” Jack excused their dad’s behavior.
“Do you have a legitimate reason for delaying me, Deputy, or are you just bored?”
“We still haven’t tracked down Lamanto.”
“He has to be long gone or the dogs would have caught up with him by now,” she said.
“They lost his scent near the stream and cost us valuable time. They picked it back up again near the highway, but I’m guessing he hitched a ride or had an accomplice waiting for him somewhere close. How’s Deputy Monroe?”
“Holding his own but critical,” Keri explained. “I thought the visiting cop was a friend of Monroe’s. What reason would he have to shoot him?”
Nick’s pulse raced at the news that Don was still alive. Live, buddy, live, he silently chanted while cheering Keri’s reasoning. Why would he shoot the friend he’d come to visit?
Then he heard Jack’s response.
“There’s always a chance Lamanto turned bad. It happens a lot to those vice guys. He could be a front man for organized crime, trying to set up some operation in our area.”
Nick clenched his teeth as blood rushed hotly through his veins. Bigoted bastards. Because of his heritage, people always wanted to link him to organized crime. It had worked to his benefit for undercover ops, but it annoyed the hell out of him when he risked his life to fight that sort of crime. Folks in this area would be quick to judge him. To most of them, he was a foreigner from the big, bad city.
“You think Monroe and Lamanto are involved with something illegal?”
“Don’t know,” said Jack, “but we aim to find out as soon as Monroe recovers or we find Lamanto. You didn’t pick up any passengers on the way out of town, did you?”
“Nary a one.”
Nick could tell Jack was scanning the contents of the SUV with a high-beam flashlight. He didn’t so much as twitch.
“You’re welcome to unpack the whole car if you’d like,” Keri taunted her brother, “but then you’ll have to repack it exactly the way you found it.”
Jack groaned. “Nobody could pack the way you do. Don’t you know it’s unnatural to be so damned organized?”
Soft, feminine laughter floated back to Nick. For the second time in the space of an hour, he felt himself being enchanted by the husky sound. It eased some of the tension from his weary body.
“I’d rather be unnatural than never be able to find a clean pair of underwear when I want them.”
Nick knew Keri kept house for her dad and brother. She probably didn’t abide clutter or disorganization.
“That’s a cheap shot, Sis.”
“If the shoe fits…”
“It might be kinda nice to have you gone for three weeks,” Jack decided. “You know the code if you run into trouble?”
She made a rude sound and pushed the power window button. Nick heard Jack’s orders to drive safely before she shut him out completely. The window closed, the radio volume rose again and they eased around what he assumed to be a collection of patrol cars. Keri tooted the horn in greeting, and then they picked up speed again.
Relief washed over him with a paralyzing effect. He’d begun to think of Thornsbury as his personal Waterloo, not knowing if he’d make it out alive. He’d roamed too far from his home territory and people who trusted him.
He didn’t know what the hell was going down, but he needed time and distance to figure it out. Years of working vice had given him a highly developed sense of self-preservation.
That same sixth sense had kept him from going directly to the local authorities after the shooting. Local, county and even state law enforcement around here seemed to be a part of a good-ole-boy network he couldn’t fully integrate.
He’d lost his cell phone in the stream, and wasted his lone opportunity to use a public phone trying to reach his lieutenant in Miami. As soon as he was safely out of town, he’d try Alexander again. Right now, he needed time and distance. The sheriff’s daughter had just bought him a little of both.
His own guardian angel.
The turn of events also won him a brief respite from the mental and physical stress of being on the run. Exhaustion overpowered his knack to stay focused.
One thing did manage to pierce his lethargy—the sweet, feminine scent clinging to the clothes he’d buried himself under. He found the scent of a woman as captivating as a beautiful smile. Keri’s scent filled his lungs now, seeping into his senses and soothing him like a narcotic.
His pain and discomfort began to ease and blessed numbness overtook his body. The humming of the wheels and the gentle rocking motion of the SUV gradually lulled Nick to sleep. He dozed restlessly.
Then he heard the sound of angels singing and it startled him awake. No, he thought, mentally clawing his way through the fog of unconsciousness. It couldn’t be angels. He hadn’t died, had he? No pearly gates, no choir of angels. Just one angel with an awesome voice. But she wasn’t singing Latin hymns, and his heart stopped racing.
Keri Merritt knew the lyrics to every song on the country station, and sang one after another. He didn’t recognize many of the tunes and lyrics, yet they reached into his subconscious and struck a chord. Her sexy, Southern accent made each one more stirring.
The sound of her voice echoed around the vehicle, surrounding him, wrapping him in a cocoon of comfort as nothing else could have done. So sexy and sultry and as hypnotically seductive as her laughter.
The longer he listened, the more the music captivated him. Her lovely alto tugged at the depths of his emotions, coaxing like a siren’s song. Reality and fantasy merged, and his mind began to play tricks as he faded in and out of consciousness. Keri was close, and then distant again.
He was home in his own bed, rocking on a gentle wave of water. The heat and humidity of South Florida permeated his body in a room steamy with passion. The woman in his arms felt petite yet shapely; tiny but not fragile. She smelled sweetly feminine and alluring. With the voice of an angel, she teased and taunted, and her laughter set his blood on fire.
He wanted her with an amazing ferocity. Every muscle and nerve in his body sang with excitement. He tried to pull her beneath him, but she remained elusive. One minute their naked arms and legs tangled, and the next she had slipped from his grasp.
He groaned in frustration then stifled another groan as he reached for her and pain shot through his body. Very real pain that shattered his dream.
Rudely awakened, Nick stilled his restless thrashing and fought through a haze of confusion until he remembered his situation. Hidden in the backseat of an SUV, heart pounding and pulse racing, he wondered if he’d groaned out loud.
He strained to hear beyond the roar of blood in his ears. The radio still played and Keri still sang. The tension in his body slowly uncoiled, but the remnants of his dream lingered.
His fevered passion turned to spiking fever, burning him up with heat. The piles of clothes and bedding suffocated him. He could hardly breathe. Shoving them from his face, he fought to stay alert, but more feverish thoughts whirred in his mind.
He’d been invited to Thornsbury and welcomed the opportunity to investigate a gun smuggling operation. Last night, he and Don had gotten wind of a meeting to be held at dawn on the outskirts of town. They’d hidden in a copse of trees where several men gathered, but the fog had been thicker than a brick wall. Darkness had shrouded faces. He’d recognized the voice of Russ Carson, a local militia leader, as well as Jack Merritt’s. Two other voices had been too muffled to recognize. Then he’d heard gunshots and felt the searing pain.
Sweat poured off him as he relived the shooting. He heard Keri’s voice in the distance, but the sound of gunfire reverberating in his head shattered his concentration. He remembered the force of the blast that shook his body and sent pain slicing across his shoulder.
Nick battled his way out of the feverish stupor, trying to avoid the mental replays. He strained to focus on Keri’s singing, and let the richness of her voice soothe him again. Once he managed to concentrate solely on the velvety sweetness, he fell into a deep, undisturbed sleep.
Sometime later, somewhere in his sleep, the lilting quality of his angel’s voice altered to sharp and commanding. Nick once again struggled for clarity of thought. He opened his eyes to an unexpected light and squinted at the pale light bulb above his head.
Sleep vanished with an awareness of danger. His head still felt foggy but clear enough to realize the SUV had stopped moving and he wasn’t hidden any longer. A narrowed glance toward the door at his feet brought his guardian angel into view. She looked more like an avenging angel considering she was pointing a very lethal weapon at him.
She was little. Her gun was not.
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