“Someone wants you out of the picture,” Myles said.

Kenzie’s face went white, and she slowly slipped to the floor, as though her legs would not hold her one more second. “What do you mean?”

Myles did not want to have this conversation. But she had to know. Or she’d up and leave and be in more danger than ever before.

Oh Lord, I’ve really messed this whole situation up. But YOU know I only want to protect Kenzie. Please show me how to make her understand. I haven’t been doing a good job of that lately. Give me Your words to explain everything to her.

When Myles glanced back at Kenzie, he saw that her face was still turned up to him in expectant hope. She was actually soft and tender, a far cry from the feisty redhead she often portrayed. He couldn’t decide who he liked better, sweet or spicy Kenzie. Both fascinated him.

LIZ JOHNSON

After graduating from Northern Arizona University in Flagstaff with a degree in public relations, Liz Johnson set out to work in the Christian publishing industry, which was her lifelong dream. In 2006, she got her wish when she accepted a publicity position at a major trade book publisher. While working as a publicist in the industry, she decided to pursue her other dream—being an author. Along the way to having her novel published, she wrote articles for several magazines.

Liz lives in Colorado Springs, Colorado, where she enjoys theater, ice skating, volunteering in her church’s bookstore and making frequent trips to Arizona to dote on her nephew and three nieces. She loves stories of true love with happy endings. The Kidnapping of Kenzie Thorn is her first novel.

The Kidnapping of Kenzie Thorn
Liz Johnson

But the eyes of the Lord are on those who fear him, on those whose hope is in his unfailing love…We wait in hope for the Lord; he is our help and our shield.

—Psalms 33:18, 20

To Mom and Dad.

You are amazing parents, cheerleaders

and most of all friends. Thanks for setting

an example of loving God.

To the rest of the Johnson/Whitson Clan:

Micah, Beth, Hannah, John and all the kids.

Thank you for helping me leap those first obligatory

hurdles and making me laugh along the way.

I’m so thankful to be part of this family.

And to my Monday night writing buddy

Jessica Barnes and my first editor Kelly Blewett;

the first draft (and every subsequent version) of this

story would never have seen the light of day without

you both. I treasure our friendship.

A special thanks to Elizabeth Mazer, who took a

chance on me and saw something worth her time.

I’m a better writer because of you.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

ONE

Mackenzie Thorn looked up just in time to see two men walk into her classroom. One of them, a guard, nodded at his coworker stationed inside the door, and kept his hand at the elbow of the taller man beside him. This man, clad in an orange jumpsuit sporting the initials ODOC—Oregon Department of Corrections—swaggered into the classroom, head held high, windswept brown hair falling over his collar. The intensity of his blue eyes struck Kenzie immobile for a moment as they approached.

“Ms. Thorn,” the guard began.

Kenzie shook her head to clear her thoughts before holding up one index finger to the guard. “Just a moment, please.” Turning to the two men sitting at the first table on her right, she said, “Mr. Ramirez, Mr. Chen, please pass out workbooks to everyone.” The two men began their task while she moved to meet her new student.

“This is Myles Parsons. The superintendent’s office said to put him in this class.”

The guard made no apologies for bringing in a new student five weeks into their six-week GED session. Decrees from Superintendent JB Ryker’s office were law inside these walls. The inmate would just have to try to keep up.

The man’s piercing blue eyes bore into her face, seeming to study every crevice. She knew for a fact that her face was not that interesting. Mr. Parsons’s face, on the other hand, was well worth studying. The crooked bridge of his nose had been broken at least once, but the imperfection was intriguing rather than off-putting. His wide mouth and pink lips pulled into a smirk, exposing his arrogance. Running thick fingers through his shaggy brown hair, he continued staring back at her, something few of her other students had ever dared to do.

Suddenly she realized how incredibly inappropriate she was being and ripped her gaze away from his handsome face. “Welcome to our GED prep class, Mr. Parsons.”

“So you’re Ms. Thorn?”

“Yes, I am. You seem surprised.”

“I am.” The man certainly did not mince words. “I expected someone more…” He stretched to his full height, which was at least a foot taller than her. “The way the others talk, I expected someone more intimidating.”

Despite her skittering pulse, she quirked the corner of her mouth into a partial grin. “Trust me, Mr. Parsons. My tests are plenty intimidating. You may take a seat now. Third row on the left.” Effectively dismissing him, she turned to the rest of the class and began teaching the basic fraction lesson.

Myles Parsons gazed at Ms. Mackenzie Thorn. Obviously frustrated by her wild, curly hair, she shoved it behind her ears, giving herself streaks of white where the chalk from her fingers lingered in her curls.

Her passion for the mundane principles of fractions astounded him. Her voice, like a melody, rose and fell as she singsonged through adding and subtracting the tricky numbers.

He shook his head to clear away the distractions of her intense gray eyes. He chastised himself for his own bad luck to end up inside these walls. Her pretty face wouldn’t be enough to make his current mission worth it.

Somehow, he’d let his FBI supervisor, Special Agent in Charge Nathan—Nate—Andersen, talk him into taking this assignment. An assignment that could be summed up in two words: Kenzie Thorn.

When Nate received a tip two weeks before that the governor’s granddaughter was in danger working inside the Oregon State Prison Complex at Evergreen, Myles had wondered about the validity of the tip. But Nate believed it, and he’d assigned an agent to the inside to protect her. As the youngest special agent stationed in the office, and one of the few without a family, Myles was the obvious pick to go behind bars to protect Kenzie.

Protect her from what, he wasn’t sure.

But as long as he was on this mission, he’d keep an eye on her. He’d do his job and do it well.

Kenzie—Ms. Thorn, as he was going to have to think of her—turned around at the front of the class and flicked another streak of white through her hair, rambling on about finding the lowest common denominator. His mouth quirked up at the corners of its own accord at her spunky head bob, and he had to fake a sneeze in order to keep from laughing out loud.

“You’re smiling awfully hard for a man who is five weeks behind the rest of the class, Mr. Parsons.” Ms. Thorn’s voice was soft, and she leaned closer to him, suddenly at his side. She smelled like citrus, like lemon and lime mixed together. Relishing the crisp scent in a room full of mostly unwashed bodies, he looked up into her stormy gray eyes. A row of freckles at the top of the bridge of her nose softened her hard glare, and he physically had to fight a smirk in response to her childlike cuteness.

One thing was quite certain. She wasn’t going to erase his smile standing this close to him.

An intriguing contradiction, her piercing eyes and gentle face tempted Myles to turn this exchange into a flirtation. Shoving those thoughts away, he focused on the mission, knowing he had to keep his mind alert for any signs she might be in danger.

Finally, the class ended, and Kenzie took a moment to let her head rest on her desk, trying to clear her mind from the terrible day she’d just had. The day started with Cory Johns, one of her favorite students, cheating on his third and final try at the GED exam, forcing her to fail him. Any hope for a change in his life after his release went in the trash with his exam.

The next class brought her new student, Myles Parsons, whose cocky smirk and arrogance made her bristle every time she looked in his direction. He raised his hand to answer almost every question she asked, and even worse, he was always right!

Eyes closed and forehead still leaning on her arm draped over the papers littering her desk, Kenzie took the opportunity to pray for her students.

God, please give me the words to reach these men. To give them some hope and skills for when they are released. I pray for the families that are eagerly waiting for their return. And, Lord, I pray specifically for Cory Johns. I pray that he will find another way to earn his GED and support his family. And I ask that You give me a special dose of patience for my new student. Please help his attitude to change toward me and this class. Thank You for Your many good gifts. In Your name, Amen.

Just as she dragged her head from its resting spot, a noise in the doorway caught her attention. A handsome man with sleek silver hair filled the entire doorway.

“Mac!” she cried, jumping up from her seat and throwing herself into the man’s waiting embrace. She clung tightly to him as he almost squeezed the breath out of her. “What are you doing here? I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.”

“You know how it is.” He chuckled, a smile spreading over his face. “Sometimes the governor’s schedule changes.” He gave her another quick squeeze before stepping back to really look at her.

His gray eyes, so much like her own, assessed her carefully and he frowned. “You look tired. Is this position too much for you?”

Kenzie resisted the urge to roll her eyes. He said the same thing every time he saw her. “I’ve been here for two years. I’m doing okay.”

“Are you taking care of yourself?”

“Of course.” She looped her arm through Mac’s and smiled into his loving face. “I’ve missed you, Grandpa.” She rarely called Mac “Grandpa,” and since he was elected governor nearly six years before, she could count on one hand the number of times she had done so. But today she needed to be reminded that she was loved by her father’s father, the man who had loved her as a daughter, ever since she lost her parents all those years ago.

Mac squeezed her tightly to his side and kissed the top of her head. “Sweet pea, you have no idea how much we miss you in Salem. I can pull some strings to get you a position at a school there. You’d make a wonderful kindergarten teacher. This place is rough. It’s not good for you.”

“It’s okay. I’m okay. They need me, and to tell you the truth, I think I need them, too.” Kenzie smiled and snuggled a little closer to his side. Mac had always been able to right the wrongs in her life, protect her from the boogeyman, dry her tears. He was larger than life when she was a child, and his presence today almost wiped away thoughts of concern over her new student.

She looked around Mac’s arm and spotted his usual entourage. “Harry. Buzz.” She nodded at each of the men standing just inside the doorway. Harry was built like a bulldozer and Buzz like a long-distance runner. They were part of the best security detail in the state, and Kenzie had grown fond of them through the years, as they protected Mac. “Candace.” She acknowledged Mac’s personal aide, a tall blonde standing beside Buzz.

Candace looked up from the notes in her daily planner. “Good afternoon, Kenzie.” She offered a brief smile, then returned to keeping Mac on schedule.

“Well, you’d best show me around your classroom.” Mac’s voice was gruff, but held a grin.

“Sure. There’s not much to show really. We have tables where the students sit. Our bookshelf is pretty meager, but the prison library has a good selection that I sometimes assign for additional reading, for those that need the practice to prepare for the exam. And of course, my desk.”

As Kenzie pointed out the tables, sparse bookshelves and her own desk, Mac walked around the room, glancing at the mathematic posters, the only decoration on the gray walls. He glanced twice at a particularly colorful formula, hand-drawn, on a large white poster board, but he didn’t comment.

“How’s the program?” he finally said.

“It’s wonderful. Since you authorized this pilot program two years ago, we’ve had more than two hundred inmates earn GEDs. We have almost a two-thirds pass rate. You don’t have to worry about us right now. But maybe—”

“You’re a good kid, Mackenzie Thorn.” He cut her off before she could confess that she was hoping the state legislature might be able to allocate more funds. Distracted by his use of her full name, she forgot what she was going to say. No one called her or Mac by their shared first name. After complications with their first and only pregnancy, Kenzie’s parents had decided to pass the family name down through their daughter, even if it was a man’s name. She’d worn it proudly, always going by Kenzie to avoid confusion.

Now she smiled wider in response to Mac’s compliment. Could he tell how much she loved teaching these men? Could he read in her eyes how much it broke her heart when they chose to give up, rather than fight for the skills that could lead to a new life?

A noise in the doorway made her turn. JB Ryker, the prison superintendent and an old friend of Mac’s, limped into the classroom, nudging Harry and Buzz aside. His knee had been injured during the Vietnam War, and when it rained he often needed the aid of a cane to manage the slick cement halls of the prison.

“Macky, you ol’ dog.” Kenzie cringed inwardly. She always hated it when JB called her grandfather “Macky.” He was the only one who could get away with it, and Mac never seemed to mind. But she still hated it.

She also hated the way his lip curled up, like a back-alley used-car salesman. Something about him always made her skin crawl.

“Why the early trip?” JB said.

Shaking hands with his old friend, Mac said, “I have a meeting tomorrow at the capital that couldn’t be rescheduled.”

“Must be tough being the governor.”

Mac just grinned. He’d taught Kenzie to hold her tongue in situations like this, where there was no right answer. If only she could do as he taught.

“It’s certainly not easy, Superintendent,” she retorted. A sharp glance from Mac made her bite her tongue to keep from saying anything else.

JB ignored her comment. “What do you think of the place? I’m sure Kenzie has kept you up-to-date on the success of the program.”

“Yes, she was just filling me in. It seems to be working well. If the statistics remain this high, we may move forward with expanding the program to the other state prisons sooner than expected.”

For an instant, JB looked like he’d swallowed his tongue. But he swiftly recovered, putting on his famous poker face. “That’s wonderful. How soon do you think?”

“I think we can start moving forward now. It should take us just a couple of months to get things in place in the other prisons, as we have such a strong example to work from with the test program here at the Evergreen complex.”

“That’s wonderful, Mac!” Kenzie’s smile was so wide it almost hurt her cheeks. With the expanded program, the state might be able to set aside a little more for her own classes. She opened her mouth to ask Mac just that, but stopped herself when she looked at Ryker. He’d warned her not to discuss the budget with Mac, but sometimes she had to physically restrain herself from asking for just a little more money. When Candace called to him, Mac hurried across the room, grabbing the cell phone she held.

Kenzie looked at JB’s surly face and wondered if he might answer some of her questions. He hated talking budget. “We don’t talk budgets, except at budget meetings,” he had said on her first day. “And we don’t discuss budgets with anyone outside of prison, including family. Including your grandfather. If Mac increased the budget at your request, his opponents could claim he gave you preferential treatment. That could damage his chances in another run for the governor’s office.” His hard glare had been stern, almost cruel, and she shivered even now at the mere possibility that she could hinder Mac’s chances at reelection.

With Mac on the other side of the room, she seized what might be her only chance to talk with JB alone. Regardless of her apprehension toward JB, this would help her students and other prisoners.

“If the program is ready to expand already, do you think the state legislature might be able to increase funding for us just a bit? I worked out some figures, and raising our budget by just fifteen percent could increase the number of students we can accommodate by over twenty-five percent.” JB stared back at her blankly. Keeping her voice low, she plowed on. “I’m planning on petitioning the legislature next month for an increase in the budget for the next fiscal year.”

JB’s face twisted slightly. “What’s wrong?” Kenzie asked.

“Oh, nothing,” he said gruffly, his eyes darting quickly in Mac’s direction.

“What’s going on?”

JB sighed. “I know Mac doesn’t want to bring this up, but this governor’s race is getting sticky. Things are being said by his opponent.”

Suddenly Mac was back by her side, and she turned to look at him, praying that things were not going wrong. “What is your opponent saying, Mac?” He shook his head, but she squeezed his hand tightly. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“Claudia Suarez has purchased some advertising that makes me out to be something of a crook. She says I haven’t been completely responsible with the state’s budget.”

“But it’s not true! Just tell them that it’s not true.” Tears filled Kenzie’s eyes, and she knuckled them away angrily.

“It’s not that easy, sweetheart. The voters are going to believe what they believe. But this could be a closer race than we thought.”

Men in orange jumpsuits suddenly began filing into the room, taking their assigned seats. The men nearest to her sat staring at their hands folded on the table. None of them said anything or looked at her, Mac or JB. Taking advantage of the men’s lack of attention, she blinked rapidly and rubbed black smudges of mascara onto her fingers from her bottom eyelids.

“I have another class to teach, Mac, but I’ll see you tonight, right? We’ll finish talking about this?”

He shot a glance at Candace, who checked her calendar then nodded. “Of course. I’ll take you out for a steak after you finish with this class. There’s nothing to worry about. I’ve got it all under control.” He squeezed her shoulder, winked at her, then followed JB toward the door. Somehow, that was all it took to reassure her that everything was right with the world.

“What looks good?” Mac said, sitting across the table from Kenzie that night.

“Maybe the prime rib with steamed vegetables.”

“Hmm. That does sound good. But it’s been a long time since I’ve had a good T-bone and baked potato.”

“Nana hasn’t made you any lately?” Kenzie asked. It seemed a bit strange for Mac to not have a good steak and potatoes regularly. Her grandmother was a wonderful cook and had created an amazing pineapple-chipotle marinade that Mac loved.

When Kenzie was growing up in Mac and Nana’s home, Nana loved to cook for the three of them. Each evening meal was a special event, with delicious food and close conversation around the dining-room table. Those nights provided the stability that Kenzie craved after her parents’ deaths. At the age of five she had struggled to understand, to accept what was really happening. Her father, Mackenzie Thorn II, was an avid pilot. He and her mother, Grace, loved to fly together, traveling the country.

It had only taken one plane crash to leave her an orphan. And in Kenzie’s childhood mind, it only took two of her grandmother’s meals to know that she wouldn’t have to be alone again. Mac and Nana took her into their home and loved her as their own daughter through grade school, high school, college and beyond.

“We’ve both been very busy lately,” Mac said in response to Kenzie’s question.

“Where is Nana?” It seemed strange to Kenzie that Nana would choose not to accompany Mac on a trip.

Just then the waiter arrived to take their orders—and just as quickly disappeared.

When it appeared that Mac had forgotten the question, she asked again. “Where’s Nana? I haven’t seen her in almost six weeks.” Living in Evergreen, close to the prison—but a two-hour drive from Salem—Kenzie often missed seeing her grandmother regularly.

“Oh, she…she decided not to come on this trip. It’s mostly just meetings and election items on my agenda. Your grandmother would have been bored, tagging along on this trip.” Mac cleared his throat and adjusted his silverware. He seemed a bit stiff, oddly uncertain of himself.

He was probably worried about his opponent, Claudia Suarez.

Kenzie reached out and covered Mac’s weathered hand with her own, much smaller one. “You’re thinking about Claudia Suarez, aren’t you?”

Mac looked a little bit guilty. “I’m afraid so. I can’t stop wondering what her advertising lies will do to my election.”

“But she can’t just lie and get away with it, can she?”

Mac’s broad shoulders beneath his suit jacket rose and fell with his sigh. “No, she can’t outright lie. But there’s nothing stopping her from twisting the truth and making it look like I’m not doing my job, or have taken advantage of my position.”

“But you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to the state of Oregon! Just think about how much this prison education reform is helping the inmates and their families on the outside.”

A broad grin spread across Mac’s lips. “Thanks for the support, honey.” He squeezed her hand, and in that moment, Kenzie was never more proud to carry his name.

“Now,” he said, suddenly looking stern, “your grandmother tells me that you met a young man.”

Kenzie burst into laughter, her cheeks turned a bit red as she answered Mac’s questions about her virtually nonexistent dating life. The only men she had time for these days were her students.

Like Myles Parsons.

Something about the inmate intrigued her. His arrogant smirk and cocky attitude warned her that he could be trouble if she wasn’t careful. But the unsteady rhythm of her heart during their first encounter hinted that he already affected her more than she cared to admit.

Mac’s brow wrinkled. “You know, if you moved to Salem, there would be more single men for your consideration. And I can guarantee you a position at Northgate Academy. I went to college with the headmaster there.”

Kenzie smiled and patted Mac’s hand across the table. This wasn’t the first time—today—they had discussed her leaving the prison. “I do love kids,” she began, before she was interrupted by the waiter delivering their meals. She bowed her head and offered a quick, silent prayer of thanksgiving.

God, thank You for this food. And please soften Mac’s heart toward You. In Your name—Oh! And please take care of the men in my classes, and help them to follow the rules and stay out of trouble with the guards. Especially Myles.

The moment she lifted her head, Kenzie saw Mac’s knowing smile. “I know you love kids. So why not work with them? Think how wonderful it would be, being close to your grandmother and me.”

“Well…it would be nice to be closer to you. But what about these inmates? They deserve to have someone believe in them. Why shouldn’t it be me?”

“But why does it have to be you? There are plenty of other qualified teachers that could take your place.”

Kenzie tried to keep the sting of those words from showing on her face. How could she explain how much she loved working with the men at the prison—teaching them, offering them hope beyond the walls of the prison? Would another teacher pray for the inmates, care for them as she did? She took a bite of her prime rib and chewed slowly on the succulent meat, buying some time.

“I like children, but I really love my job right now. I’m not going to leave.”

“But think of the pay raise and the budget for your classroom in a private school like that.”

Kenzie looked directly into Mac’s gray eyes and said, “No. I’m not leaving.”

Mac’s shoulders slumped as he shoveled a chunk of steak into his mouth, his whole face morose.

“So tell me about the campaign. What have you been up to, other than dealing with Claudia Suarez?” As she’d hoped, Mac was easily distracted with the details of the campaign. He quickly obliged, falling into stories from the electoral trail.

As he regaled her with tales, Kenzie’s mind drifted for just a minute to another man in her life. Blue eyes and a handsome face flashed through her thoughts. She fought the smile that Myles’s memory brought and had to physically shake her head to clear away any thoughts of him.

This night was about her relationship with Mac, not some strangely intriguing new inmate.

TWO

Two days later, Kenzie sighed softly as she waited for the guard to open the front gate far enough to pull her maroon sedan into the bus barn inside the prison walls. She slipped the gear shift into Park, turned off the engine, but remained seated behind the wheel.

Her stomach felt like it was tied in knots, and she took two cleansing breaths. But the uneasy feeling remained.

Usually she only felt this way the day of the GED exam, which was still three days away for her most advanced class. Forcing herself to be honest, Kenzie admitted to herself that today she feared facing a set of piercing blue eyes and an arrogant smirk. Oh, she had really done it this time. She had crossed the line of professionalism that was to be strictly adhered to at the prison, for her own safety, and now she had to face up to her mistake.

Leaning her forehead on her steering wheel and closing her eyes, in her mind she replayed the scene from the day before.

“Great work today, guys.” She took a sip of water from the cup on her desk as the men shuffled papers into a pile for her to collect after they left. “Now, don’t forget that we have a review of the math section tomorrow and an English review the next day. The following class I’ll be taking your questions, so make sure you have plenty to keep us busy. And the next class—the following week—is your test.”

Per their usual, the men mumbled unintelligible responses.

Larry, her usual guard, stepped forward from his location just inside the door of the room and the men began lining up to exit. Kenzie started erasing the chalkboard, white dust billowing around her head.

“Ms. Thorn.”

She jumped at the sound of her name. Larry stood on the other side of her desk.

“Yes?”

“Superintendent Ryker wants to meet with Inmate Parsons. He just radioed that he’s been held up at another meeting and will be here in just a few minutes. He said to have Parsons wait here for him. I’ll be right here at the door if you need anything.”

“That’s fine. Since he was late today, it’ll give us a chance to make sure he’s ready for the exam in a few days.” As the guard motioned to Parsons to return to his seat, she knew she hadn’t spoken the whole truth. The whole truth was that Myles Parsons was more ready to take the GED than any other student she had taught in her two years at the prison. He probably could have passed the exam his first day in her class.

Larry moved to the open doorway, standing half in the hallway, leaving Kenzie and Myles in relative privacy.

“Good lesson today,” Myles said from his seat at a table, his tone serious. But his eyes and wicked smirk mocked her from his semirecumbent position.

She heard Mac’s advice to not respond when there was no good counter, but ignored it, blurting, “You have no idea—You just don’t get—What is your problem?” She charged at him, fists clenched at her sides. She certainly had no intention of hitting him, but his one little comment and snide sneer riled her beyond reason.

Just as she reached the table where he sat, he stood. Forced to crane her neck just to look at his chin, her anger boiled hotter. How dare he try to intimidate her with his size? With those broad shoulders and muscular arms?

One call to Larry would have Myles in solitary confinement for a week.

Only one other inmate had ever tried to intimidate her. That was well over a year ago. That time she had crumbled, calling for the guard on duty, having the inmate permanently removed from her class. Fearing that the other inmates in her classes would think they could overrun her, Kenzie had grown braver, stronger. She had read somewhere that kindness could be mistaken for weakness. She let her students know right away after that incident that that was not the case with her. But now she was faced with another inmate who wouldn’t back down. She should have been angry or frightened, but she wasn’t. Inexplicably, she felt safe with him. Oh, he might infuriate her, but for some reason, she felt he’d never hurt her. Was she a fool to trust him so much?

Those terrible, beautiful blue eyes never looked away, never broke eye contact as Myles put his hands around her fists and held them gently.

“I meant it as a compliment,” he whispered. “The polite thing to do would be to say ‘thank you.’”

She should have wrenched her hands from his, stepped back, put at least three feet between them. Instead she took a tiny step toward him, closer to the strength he exuded.

Finally able to look away from his hypnotic eyes, she noticed a bruise forming around his right cheekbone. “What happened?” she instantly demanded. Of their own volition, the fingers of her right hand gently probed his cheek, feeling minor swelling. Was this from an inmate? Or worse, a guard?

That offending smirk returned as he gently pushed her away. Just then JB and Larry had charged into the classroom, pushing desks out of their way as they appraised Myles.

Today Kenzie hung her head low, still too embarrassed to exit her car. While nothing really tangible happened between her and Myles, they both knew that rules had been broken. She was to have no physical contact with any inmate. And she certainly wasn’t supposed to enjoy the feel of his hands briefly holding hers.

He simultaneously irritated and intrigued her. Along with her trust in him came more emotions than she wanted to own up to at the moment. Was she crazy? She didn’t even know what he was convicted of. How could she think that he was safe, that she would be safe with him?

God, why does my heart skip a beat every time this man, who is so clearly off-limits, comes around? she prayed. I just don’t understand what’s wrong with me! He’s an inmate, and yet I can’t help the way my stomach drops to my toes when I see him. He makes me so angry, but he makes me feel so safe. Please take these feelings away from me. I don’t want them anymore.

Glancing at her watch, she realized she was already five minutes late for her first class of the day. “See what you made me do, you…you…blue-eyed man,” she grumbled to herself as she hurried from the car to the security checkpoint. “You made me late!”

The rest of the morning and the first part of the afternoon sped by in a blur.

When three o’clock arrived, she said goodbye to her second class and began preparing for her advanced class, which would arrive in just thirty minutes. Myles would arrive in just thirty minutes. Her heart gave a telltale flutter at the thought of his grin. That sometimes-teasing, sometimes-kind, sometimes-devastating grin.

Devastating? Are you kidding? Kenz, what is wrong with you? Too many romantic daydreams. Get your head in the ball game!

Pushing aside her own inner monologue, Kenzie began doing the physical chores to prepare for the class. Scooting chairs behind desks and wiping off chalkboards required little mental activity, and for the time being she thought it might be best to wipe everything from her mind.

Especially Myles Parsons.

But her heart betrayed her when the inmates in her third class began walking into the classroom. It leapt excitedly, as she anticipated seeing Myles’s face. She watched each man intently as he entered. Nineteen orange jumpsuits, nineteen men, nineteen faces. But no piercing blue eyes.

Where could he be, just a few days before the exam?

A body slammed Myles out of line as he walked toward Ms. Thorn’s classroom. He had managed to maneuver his way to the very end of the line. If he was completely honest with himself, which he really did not want to be at that moment, he had finagled his way to the end of the line of prisoners, hoping to have some opportunity to connect with Ms. Thorn.

As he hoped every day during class. Only because of the mission, of course.

He knew the rules, knew that breaking them meant solitary confinement. And while he had no desire to spend a week alone in a hole—that would defeat the purpose of keeping an eye on Kenzie—neither could he deny the strange effect she had on him when they were in the same room. He knew he needed to keep his contact with her in check, but she made it awfully difficult to keep his mind on his assignment.

Now bright spots flashed before Myles’s closed eyes. He rested his aching head against the block wall, leaning the rest of his body heavily there, too. He felt like a bulldozer had just rammed him into a brick wall.

Peeking out of the corner of his eye, he saw that the rest of his class was already in the classroom along with the new guard. He and the bulldozer were alone in the hallway.

Venturing a peek at the other man’s uniform shirt and brown pants, Myles mumbled, “Did I do something wrong, boss?”

The guard—what was his name?—Whitestall, didn’t say anything for several seconds. He just smacked his open palm with the enormous flashlight that doubled as a nightstick.

“Do you think I’m stupid, Parsons?”

“No, sir!” Myles jumped. Whatever this was, it was not going to go in his favor.

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice you cozying up to the teacher?”

Myles bit his lip and kept his mouth shut. Nothing he said would improve this situation. He wanted to know what Whitestall was after, what he was trying to hunt out. Silence was usually the best provocateur.

“You know that if I turn you in to the superintendent for inappropriate conduct with a female state employee, you’ll be spending the next six months in solitary.”

“Yes, sir.” It was best to agree with anything the guard said, though six months seemed a bit extreme. Likely he was just trying to intimidate Myles.

“Do you want to spend six months in solitary?”

“No, sir.”

“I didn’t think so.” Whitestall leered and let out a long, putrid breath. Sweat beaded on his jaw, and his greasy hair fell in front of his beady eyes. He stopped beating his flashlight against his palm for a moment. “I’ve seen you and Ms. Thorn in her classroom, when you think I’m not watching. The way you look at her—sidle up to her. You want to get closer, don’t you? You wish you were outside these walls, so you could really get to know her.”

Myles was stunned. How could he possibly respond? Silence was his only hope, so he bit the inside of his cheek viciously to keep quiet.

“I knew it,” Whitestall snarled. “I can see it in your eyes. You’ll be in solitary for a year if I turn you in.” A slow, cruel smile shaped his lips. “But…I might be willing to help you. Get you what you want and let you have a little fun with her…if you do something for me. You’ve got nothing to lose now.”

Where was this going? “What did you have in mind, sir?”

The guard held up what looked like a silver car key.

“It’s simple enough, really. I want you to make her disappear. For good.”

The silver car key in Myles’s pocket poked his leg as he stretched out on the back floor of Kenzie’s car. He ran a hand over his new jeans, supplied by Whitestall, and tipped his head, angling for a view out of the enormous windows in the bus barn. Late afternoon, he guessed.

It would probably be at least a couple more hours before she would leave for the day. Whitestall had told him that she usually didn’t leave until it was dark.

That meant he had some time to make plans and think through this crazy turn of events.

He’d never even considered that this would be a possibility of the job. That he’d be forced to kidnap his mission. To be honest, he hadn’t even been convinced she was truly in danger. But he knew better now. Someone wanted her dead.

Number one rule of protection: Don’t let your assignment die.

As soon as they made it out of the prison, he could take care of that.

Rule number two: Find out who wants your charge dead, and why.

Certainly Whitestall wasn’t the man in charge, but Myles at least had a good place to start. That guard could and would point him in the right direction.

While he was investigating, he needed to stash Ms. Thorn in a safe location. There was an FBI safe house less than a hundred and fifty miles away. That would work. Get her there, touch base later with his supervisor. Then the really exciting stuff started—following the clues from Whitestall to the perpetrators. Who knew where that trail might lead?

He loved the unknown about this job.

Normally, at this point in a case he’d be running scenarios, figuring out angles, making plans. Yet, for some reason, his mind kept wandering back to his last interaction with Ms. Thorn.

He really had meant to compliment her on the lesson the day before. She was an excellent teacher and had a great rapport with the inmates. She provided easily understood instructions and taught with so much passion that it seemed possible she could teach the entire prison.

But he just hadn’t been able to keep that smirk off his face. The force of habit was too strong. He’d used it all his life to keep the people around him at a distance. And it came in especially handy in prison. It was much easier to be guarded by other men when he kept himself emotionally removed from the situation.

As soon as Kenzie had seen his sneer, he recognized the fire in her eyes and flare of her nostrils that told him she was spitting mad. And his immediate reaction was to soothe her. But by grasping her hands, he hadn’t soothed her, he’d crossed the line. He knew it. She knew it.

So why had she stepped closer to him?

He wanted the chance to look into her eyes today. To see if she was still mad, or had forgiven him that insolent smirk. He was strangely surprised that her opinion of him really did matter. Her funny little smile—well, that was just an added bonus.

Kenzie Thorn was a spunky woman. A very attractive spunky woman.

But for the moment, she was just a job. And completing his assignment for the bureau was more important than seeing her smile or smelling her citrus scent.

Besides, as soon as she got into the car tonight, any affinity they shared would be demolished. When she crawled behind the wheel after her final class, he was going to have to threaten her life. At least make her believe that she was in danger.

Wrapping his hand firmly around the tiny blade that Whitestall had given him, he tried not to focus on the fear he knew he was going to cause.

No matter what, it was better him than someone who might like scaring Kenzie, who might really hurt her.

Suddenly the truth of that slammed into him, almost stealing his breath. God, thank You for putting me here and not someone who would be willing to hurt her. Please keep her calm as we make our way toward the safe house tonight, and give her understanding when I can finally tell her about this assignment. I ask for wisdom as I investigate the people behind this plot against Kenzie. Lord, I pray, too, for her family, who will be frightened beyond belief. Please guide me, Lord, on my mission to protect her.

He mouthed an “amen,” not daring to say it aloud, just in case Whitestall or someone else had bugged the car. He couldn’t take any chances that they would catch on to him before he had Kenzie tucked away in the safe house.

They’d make it out of the prison. And he’d find the people behind this plot. He’d make sure that she never had to worry about them again.

Kenzie sighed as she collected the last of her papers to be graded the next day, particularly tired after an extra late night of grading. Myles had never showed up for class. Immediately, her mind jumped to the sight of the yellowish bruise around his eye when he’d first entered her class the previous day. Could he have been beaten up? Was he seriously injured?

Suddenly breathing heavily, she shoved the papers haphazardly into her desk drawer and headed toward the infirmary. The evening nurse, Jayne, was always kind and would tell her if Myles was in there. But how could she ask about him without seeming too interested?

“Please don’t let him be hurt,” she whispered toward the ceiling. “If You see fit, please keep him safe and healthy.”

Kenzie slid to a stop at the window where the middle-aged nurse should have been. But no one was there. There was no point in waiting around for Jayne or someone else to show up. It could be hours.

Turning around dejectedly, she trotted toward the security checkpoint. Having learned to navigate security efficiently, she quickly flashed her ID tag and bustled out the door, toward her car. Shivering as a sturdy breeze cooled off the evening air, she picked up her speed.

The night fell on her, closing around her. The ominous spotlights illuminating the prison yard did little to make her feel safe. Shadows in the bus barn spooked her as she flung open her car door, threw in her purse and jumped behind the wheel. The ignition turned over and the engine purred to life as she shoved the lock down.

Putting a hand over her heart, she felt the solid thuds as it raced. She took a deep breath trying to calm her jitters. She was almost never frightened inside the prison complex. What would cause her to be so scared tonight?

Deep breath in. Hold it. Let it out.

She pulled in front of the gate and waited for the guard reading the magazine to wave her through. He barely looked up long enough to punch the button that made the gate squeak loudly, then grind slowly open.

She waved back at him, but even in the glow of the light from the guard station, she felt shrouded in darkness. Out on the road on her way back into Evergreen, the darkness didn’t abate. In fact, it started to close in even tighter around her. Her hands shook as they clung to the wheel and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, as though someone was breathing right behind her. But she pushed on to make it the few miles into town, back to her condo.

Finally she could stand her shaking hands and ragged breathing no longer. Kenzie swerved to the shoulder and slammed the car into Park.

“God, I just…” Her voice trailed off, and she could not form words to pray. “I’m just being silly,” she chided herself aloud. “God, I know that You’re in control. I don’t know why I’m acting like a jitterbug tonight—”

Suddenly a hand clamped over her mouth, cutting off her words and her breath.

THREE

Kenzie tried to scream, but the calloused hand covering her mouth effectively cut off all sound and stole almost all of her breath. She struggled to rip the fingers from her face, but another arm snaked around her middle, pinning her to the driver’s seat, her arms at her sides.

She could not think, could not focus. She could only react, fighting with all her might against the corded arms wrapped around her.

Futilely, she tried to bite the fingers at her mouth, but only managed to nibble on a knuckle. Tossing her head from side to side, she tried to free herself, but the arms were immovable.

After what seemed an hour but was likely closer to five minutes, she was too tired to fight anymore. Sliding back against the seat, she tried another tactic. She would reason with the man sitting behind her. Craning her neck to look at him through the rearview mirror, she could barely make out the outline of rumpled hair and broad shoulders. But it was too dark for her to see any of his features.

He sat quietly, just holding her to the seat, seemingly unsure of what he wanted to do next. Finally, he whispered in her ear, “Are you done struggling?”

Her eyes flew open at his voice. She knew that voice. It was the same voice that made her stomach drop to her toes and sent shivers up and down her back.

Gasping, she garbled something unintelligible into his hand. She had trusted him, and now he was going to—well, she wasn’t sure what he was going to do. But it wasn’t going to be good, that was for sure.

“Shh. Calm down,” he whispered into her ear. His voice was deep and soothing, and his restraints were just tight enough to hold her in place. He didn’t hurt her as long as she sat still.

She made another wild attempt to free herself, trying to grab for the door handle or honk the horn. His arm around her waist suddenly squeezed, stealing all of her breath and robbing her of all her strength. He must have felt the whoosh of air expel from her lungs through her nose, because he relaxed his grip over her mouth.

Almost limp in his arms, Kenzie felt defeated. “What do you want?” she wheezed between his fingers.

“I want you to turn the car around and start driving. I want you to take me farther from the prison and to freedom. I’ll tell you where to go.”

Kenzie’s mind worked as fast as it could under the strained circumstances. She had to get back to the prison or to a lighted, busy area. Here he was free to do with her as he pleased. It probably meant death. Or worse.

“You know who my grandfather is, don’t you? If you kidnap me, there’ll be no pardon. He’ll hunt you down and prosecute you to the fullest extent of the law. Please think about this.” She was very proud that she kept her voice from shaking with emotion and fear as she spoke.

Suddenly the arm around her middle moved and was quickly replaced by the point of a knife in her side.

“Just do what I say, Kenzie.” He had never called her by her first name before, and it sparked a fire back into her.

“No. You don’t want to do this. This can only end poorly for you. Think about what you’re doing!”

“No arguments. Just do it. Now.” His voice a growl, she knew he meant what he said.

Obeying his command, she pulled her car back onto the two-lane road, heading away from Evergreen.

A couple hundred yards away from the turnoff for the prison, she let her foot off the accelerator, hoping to swing the car down the short road to the front gate. Even if they crashed, it would be better than being alone with Myles outside the prison walls. Alone, where he could do whatever he wanted.

“Don’t even think about slowing down,” he commanded. He stuck the knife farther into her side, and she winced.

She yanked the wheel to the right, toward the prison road, but suddenly he was practically beside her, his long arm holding the steering wheel steady. In her frazzled state she was no match for his strength.

The lights of the prison appeared and vanished in just a moment. Protected by trees lining the road, the prison was no longer visible, and Kenzie was alone on a long stretch of road, likely leading to her death.

After all, her life was worth nothing to him now.

He despised doing this. And he hated himself for having to be in this position.

His missions usually didn’t end up like this, but it still had to be done. He wasn’t about to delude himself into thinking that he had a choice about kidnapping the governor’s granddaughter. He had to do this to protect her.

And even worse, he was under strict instructions from his supervisor not to reveal his true identity under any circumstances. According to Nate, if Kenzie leaked his identity to anyone else, the entire operation would be blown. The only two people in the world who knew Myles’s purpose inside the prison were him and Nate. If word got out that he was investigating the trouble Kenzie was in—before all the culprits had revealed themselves—his investigation would crumble, and Nate would know exactly who spilled the beans.

Now that he’d had to kidnap her, he had no choice but to get her to a safe house. There he’d tell her who he was and what he knew of the situation. Until then, he couldn’t be sure that Whitestall hadn’t bugged the car. After all, he’d supplied the car key, so he’d had access to it. And what if they were stopped somewhere? Even if the kidnapping failed, he could still use the situation to smoke out the people plotting Kenzie’s murder—as long as his cover remained intact. Telling her the truth right now was a risk Myles just couldn’t take.

It was torture, scaring Kenzie like this. Over and over in his mind, he reminded himself that it would end soon. They just had to make one quick stop before the safe house so Myles could get in touch with Guard Whitestall. And the safest place Myles knew was a bit off the beaten path—well worth the seventy-five-mile trip out of the way.

But with every visible tremble and shudder of Kenzie’s tiny form, he hated himself just a little bit more. How had it gotten to this? Who would want to harm her?

She inhaled, then let out a halted screech as her ribs came back in contact with the point of the knife. He pulled back on the blade. From his vantage point, squatting on the floor behind the driver’s seat, he could see her shoulders tense again.

How was he ever going to win back her trust? That thought surprised him. Why did it suddenly matter that she trust him at all?

God, am I completely botching this? I just want to protect Kenzie, and instead, I’ve made her terrified and am taking her as far from civilization as I can. Show me how to solve this situation. Show me what You want, because I don’t know what I’m doing here. I believe that You have a plan. Make it clear to me. I’m begging here. I’m always lost without You.

“Myles, what are you going to do with me?”

Kenzie’s terse words ripped him from his silent conversation with God.

Calm her down. Soothe her fears. Speak softly.

With all the best intentions, Myles sighed. “Don’t worry about it. Just keep your eyes on the road.” Not exactly what he’d wanted to say, but it would have to do for now. He knew the truth. He couldn’t do this assignment well while worrying about her feelings. He’d botch the job more than ever if he let his emotions seep in. Still, he could be more kind. “I’m sorry.” This time his words were soft and reassuring.

“It would help if I knew what I was looking for,” she said.

“You’re looking for the white and yellow lines. Try to stay between them.”

He could see her profile in the darkness, and she opened her mouth to speak, then quickly shut it.

He took pity on her, suddenly contrite for his sarcasm, “I’ll tell you when we get closer.” She nodded, but kept her lips clamped closed. And not for the first time, he took several seconds to appreciate her simple beauty and sharp personality. Someday she would make some man very lucky.

Not him, of course. He had a job to do. One that made having anyone waiting at home very difficult. Marriage and a family were years away.

Right now there was only the job. Only protecting Kenzie.

The car hit a major bump in the road, and the knife jammed into her side, snagging the silky material of her sweater.

“Would you mind moving that? I’m not going anywhere. I won’t be jumping out of this car at sixty miles an hour.” Her voice waivered slightly, not in fear, but like she was trying desperately not to let her anger get the better of her. She was used to giving commands. It must be killing her to be so out of control.

“As you wish.” He chuckled, pocketing the little blade and thinking of that line used in his favorite childhood movie. “But don’t make me regret it.”

Somehow, Myles didn’t think that it would matter if he had the seven-inch Bowie knife that Guard Whitestall had initially told him to take. Kenzie’s response would be the same—fighting anger along with trepidation. She was a spicy spitfire if ever there was one.

No complaints, just steely determination to make it through this.

She didn’t know it yet, but she would make it through this. He would make sure of that. He never failed to do his job.

First, Myles needed to figure out why he had been told to escape, to kidnap Kenzie and then to kill her. Whitestall had to have the answers. He would be Myles’s first phone call when they arrived at their destination.

A green sign along the road read: REDMOND 73 MILES.

“Do you see that grove of trees up ahead?”

“Yes.”

“Turn onto that gravel road right after them.” He couldn’t see the road yet, but he knew it would be there, the way it had been since his childhood.

Kenzie made a smooth turn onto the bumpy road, slowing down to accommodate the shifting gravel.

After a few minutes he said, “Make a right at that fence post.”

Again Kenzie followed orders, but something in her demeanor changed. She was suddenly more alert, looking frantically about the tree-lined lane. Was she trying to memorize the route or look for an escape? Probably both. Too bad she would not find anything to help her in either pursuit. These gravel roads were as unremarkable as ever.

In the foothills of the Cascades, they were already hours from the nearest town or any help for her. She’d be much safer just staying with him.

Every second on the road took them farther and farther away from Evergreen. The tiny Oregon town had been her home for two years because of its proximity to the prison. The drive was barely ten minutes from her rented condo to the front gate of the prison, but now she drove in the opposite direction. When Mac and Nana started looking for her, they would start in Evergreen. They’d never think to look for her here.

Every moment she drove plunged her deeper and deeper into the wooded darkness. Away from the familiar. Away from safety. Away from Mac, who was likely completely unaware of her situation. She was at Myles’s mercy now.

That truth shook her very core.

Send Mac. Please! Send someone to rescue me! God, I need his help right now! I think Myles is going to kill me.

Admitting that she believed she was going to die scared Kenzie beyond belief and caused her to slam on the brakes.

Myles’s large body crashed into the back of her seat, sending her into the unforgiving steering wheel. He grumbled loudly. “What’s wrong?”

“Everything!” she screamed. “You’re going to kill me! I’m going to die, and you’re making me drive to my burial ground!” She clamped her hands over her mouth, eyes wide, realizing what she had just said.

Oh, she’d been doing so well, holding herself together, searching for an opportunity to escape. But when fear and anger mixed, she could not be held responsible for what came out of her mouth. She put her face in her hands and let out a single, wild sob. Thankful that the car had stopped when she’d slammed on the brake, she dropped her forehead and rested it against the steering wheel.

Her shoulders shook, and each trembling breath required a concentrated effort not to expel a sob.

With amazing agility for such a large man, Myles squeezed between the two front seats and over the center console. Slipping into the passenger seat, he pulled her quaking form into a tight hug. His arms wrapped around her, subduing her trembles. One of his large hands cupped the top of her head and smoothed down her hair until it wrapped around the nape of her neck. He used his nimble fingers to force her to look up into his face.

The only lights came from the dashboard and the headlights pointing into nothingness. They cast a small glow inside the car, and she could see one of his eyes looking right into her face.

“Everything’s going to be okay.”

Even now, she found that she wanted to trust him, to look into his face and believe that he was telling her the truth. He was strong and capable. But he was also a hardened criminal, an escaped convict and her abductor.

He couldn’t be trusted.

“D-don’t,” she stammered pushing against him. His proximity was too close, too personal, too intimate. She didn’t want to be this close to someone so dangerous. Someone who made her heart beat frantically in fear. Someone who, at the same time, made her feel something very different than fear.

“Don’t what?” Myles rumbled. He didn’t move back even a fraction of an inch, and his breath fanned her face, invading her space all the more.

“Don’t try to make me feel better after you—you—you kidnapped me!”

“Aren’t you a little old to be kidnapped?” He chuckled.

“That’s not the point and you know it! You got out of prison, now let me go!” Her voice rose in aggravation, but kept an even pitch. She tried to push against him again, tried to create more space between them, but he was immovable. “You’re in my bubble,” she finally said, her temper making her respond completely inappropriately to an armed felon.

He laughed out loud, a deep, rich sound that would have been contagious in any other situation. “Your bubble?”

“Yes, my bubble!” she said, indignation rapidly rising. “My space, my personal space. You’re invading it.”

“Are you trying to tell me to back off?”

“Yes!”

He laughed again as he let her go and leaned back into the passenger seat. Stretching his long legs out as much as allowed by the compact car, he propped his hands behind his head and said, “Drive on. We’ve got a ways to go yet tonight.”

The infuriating man! She stomped on the gas pedal, sending the car bouncing into the inky night. The thick tree line on their right began to thin as they plunged headlong into the darkness.

Kenzie tried to focus on finding another road or sign of life in this wilderness. Any sign of civilization could save her.

Her eyes scanned feverishly back and forth to no avail. All she could see was the ditch on the left side of the road and sporadic pine trees on the right.

Suddenly a small deer darted through the headlights, and she slammed on the brakes for the second time that night, just missing the little creature. “Probably just running from a mountain lion,” Myles mumbled, sounding half-asleep.

How could he be falling asleep? He was kidnapping her, and he was falling asleep?

She took a deep breath and pushed her indignation aside. All the better for her if he wasn’t paying attention—it meant he wouldn’t notice her planning her escape.

Her focus on just that plan, she looked for intersections crossing the road. But there were none. No mailboxes along the gravel indicating a house down a driveway. No street signs. Nothing. No indication of where they were, or where they had been. Miles and miles from Evergreen or any other town.

Would Myles be caught before something terrible happened? Would they ever track and find him? Whatever his plan was, it seemed to be working. They probably didn’t even know he was missing from the prison yet. And she had no plans for the evening, so no one would report her as missing until the next day. Everything seemed to be going his way. Even the fine gravel conspired to keep them from being tracked, billowing up behind the tires and then settling down over their tracks.

But Mac would find her. He always did.

A movement beside her drew her attention. Myles rubbed his left knee, kneading the muscles of his thigh directly above his kneecap, as though in pain. His eyes appeared to be closed, and a grimace wrinkled his forehead and pinched his lips. His long fingers spanned his knee and massaged the tendons on either side.

He made no other indication that he was awake.

Kenzie turned back to the road ahead, her eye catching for an instant on the green digital clock on the dashboard, reading 12:17 a.m. Had they really left the prison more than two hours before? How long ago had they left the paved road? She had no idea! She mentally kicked herself for not paying more attention to such an important detail.

“Lamebrain,” she mumbled.

“You say something?” Myles asked, his voice not even husky from sleep.

“No.” She sat ramrod straight, turning the car along a slight curve.

Silence reigned for several more minutes. Suddenly Myles said, “Stop here.”

“Where?”

“Right here.”

She slowed to a stop and peered through the windshield, searching for the reason he told her to stop.

And suddenly she saw it. A small log cabin straight ahead of them. How had he known where to stop? This entire scenario was altogether too strange. How had she gotten caught up in this? Why had Myles chosen her?

She was an easy mark. She made herself an easy mark. That’s why he chose her. She had let down her guard in his presence, and he took advantage of it.

“Here we are,” he announced, getting out of the car after snatching the keys from the ignition. “Let’s go.”

Myles took a step out of the car, and his left knee almost buckled beneath him. He stumbled, but caught himself before falling all the way to the gravel. As he swiped at the keys that he had immediately taken from Kenzie then promptly dropped, his knee screamed again.

He hated the stupid high school football injury. His dream of being a navy SEAL had crashed around him the moment his ACL snapped when the Yuma High Criminals’ defensive lineman sacked him in the city championship game.

Now the doctors said that the scar tissue from the original repair surgery was inflamed and would keep him in pain until they did another surgery. But then he got this assignment. It was hard to get good medical attention in prison. It was hard to get much of anything in prison. But the mission would be over soon. They were only a hundred miles from the safe house. And he had a good feeling about Whitestall. He would wrap up this investigation quickly.

Righting himself before Kenzie even exited the car, he stalked toward the cabin’s front door. His knee cooperated by sheer force of his will as he berated himself for squatting for so long.

A jumpy Kenzie slowly followed him toward the cabin, her eyes darting around the blackness. Natural beauty would soon surround them in the golden glow of the sunrise.

Now the moon cast an ethereal radiance around the young woman’s tiny frame. Her usually angelic features hardened as she glared into his face. She hated him. He tried to convince himself that it didn’t bother him.

“Why won’t you let me go?” she tried again.

“I can’t. Not yet.” It was the truth. Well, mostly the truth.

Lost in thoughts of the truths he hadn’t told and tugging at the water-warped cabin door that refused to open, he almost missed Kenzie’s sudden spin and quick steps toward the woods on his right. His hand shot out, and he grabbed her elbow. “Not so fast.”

When the door opened with a pop, he pushed her inside, following so closely that he could smell the lingering remnants of her citrus perfume. Lemon and lime.

He led her to the only seat in the room, a wooden rocking chair next to the hearth, and let go of her arm as she sank obediently between the arms, worn smooth from years of use. She looked like a child, staring at him as though he had all the answers. But he didn’t. He just prayed that Whitestall had the answers they needed to save them both.

A movement in the doorway leading to the bathroom caught his eye and he turned toward the white-haired woman in the flannel nightgown walking toward him.

“Grams.” He sighed, pulling the plump woman in his arms.

“Myles, what on earth are you doing here?” she asked, pulling back to look between him and Kenzie. Her brow furrowed, but she left her hands resting on his forearms. “It’s the middle of the night!”

“We’re—” he began, but was instantly interrupted by another voice.

“He kidnapped me! Please, you have to help me!” Kenzie charged across the room, imploring his grandma for help. Kenzie’s fingers folded over each other as though almost in prayer, and she looked like she would fall on her knees at any moment.

Myles gazed into his grandma’s face and spoke to her the whole truth without saying a word. His eyes beseeched her to understand the situation, to trust him. He had given her nothing to worry about for years. She could trust him.

But he also knew that Kenzie could be persuasive, and if he wasn’t careful, Grams would reveal too much before he could get Kenzie to the safe house and convince her that everything he’d done, he had had to do to protect her.

Grams’s eyes squinted back at him for a long moment. He squeezed her arms gently and smiled. She nodded and looked back at Kenzie.

“You’re safe here, dear,” she said, reaching out and taking Kenzie’s hand.

Kenzie looked dumbfounded, her eyes huge in her face, her eyebrows reaching toward her hairline. “But he’s kidnapped me. From the prison. He was in prison. Don’t you understand?”

“You were in prison?” Grams asked, looking over her shoulder at him and quirking an eyebrow.

Myles grinned and shrugged. “It’s a long story. I’ll explain later.”

Grams nodded and turned back to Kenzie. “I’m Lenora Borden. And you are…?”

“Kenzie—Kenzie Thorn.” She tripped on her words.

“Well, welcome. You must be starving. He’s always starving.” She indicated Myles with a nod of her head. “I’ll run down to the cellar and bring up some homemade beef stew. We have just a few jars left from last season’s canning.”

“Thanks, Grams,” Myles said, giving her a peck on her cheek. “Sounds great! I’m going to make a quick phone call.”

Grams nodded, then disappeared out the front door, leaving Kenzie looking so shocked that Myles pushed her gently into the rocking chair before her legs crumpled.

“Don’t move,” he commanded as he stalked to the telephone sitting on the kitchen counter. It was the only phone line in the house, the only way of communication. Cell phones didn’t work this far out of town. And he’d never bothered to have the Internet installed. Being in touch with the outside world defeated his usual purpose for being in the cabin, and it would serve him well now. Even if Whitestall tried to trace the call, he’d have a hard time finding this place. That was what made it so perfect.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Kenzie settle a little deeper into the chair. A quick swipe through the pocket of his jeans produced another item the guard had given him. The tiny slip of paper contained only a single telephone number, a way of contacting the guard when the job was done.

Punching in the ten digits, Myles tapped his foot impatiently.

“Hello?” The man’s voice on the other end of the line quivered slightly.

“Boss, it’s Parsons.”

“Parsons? Is—is everything taken care of?” For the first time in his experience with the prison guard, Myles thought he heard a bit of apprehension in the other man’s voice, but Whitestall quickly subdued it.

“Almost.” He shot a look in Kenzie’s direction. She sat with her hands folded neatly in her lap, prim little sweater wrapped around her shoulders.

“What does that mean?” The other man whispered so softly that Myles pressed the receiver harder to his ear and focused intently on his words.

“I’m just finishing up a few things. You know. Taking care of details.”

“So it’s done? I mean, you killed her?”

“That is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

Silence hung on the line for several long seconds. “Of course it is. I told you to take care of her. Get her out of the picture. They want her gone.”

“Who’s they?” Myles tried to ignore the tug of loathing he felt for the man’s contempt for life in general and Kenzie specifically. Instead he focused on discovering the leader behind the contract to kidnap and murder Kenzie.

“They. Them. They…they told me to take care of it. He said if I didn’t, I’d be fish food. And I believe him, but—” Whitestall’s voice cut off, almost like the phone line had gone dead.

“Boss? You still there?”

“I’m here.”

Myles tried to choose his words wisely. Could he draw out the other man’s concerns about the plan without alerting him to the fact that he was doing so? That “but” had been a loaded one. It spelled fear. And maybe something more. “You ever think maybe you know too much? Maybe you’re not safe, either.”

No noise from the other end of the line. Had he pushed too hard? Finally, “Yeah, I thought of that.”

“But there’s nothing tying you to my escape or the murder. You’ll be fine.”

“Maybe. Maybe no-ot.” The lilt in his voice at the end of the last word told Myles that he’d pressed too hard, frightened the guy beyond opening up. That fear was the first break in Whitestall’s armor. He may be a rough and intimidating prison guard, but he was still human. And now Myles had a gut feeling he was going to run.

For his life.

Suddenly the line went dead, and the force of an unexpected blow to his left knee sent Myles crashing to the ground, howling in pain and clawing at the counter on his way down. His hands caught onto the base of the telephone and ripped the cord from the wall just as his cheek met the rough wooden floor. Tears immediately sprang to his eyes, blurring his vision of Kenzie’s shoes beating a hasty getaway and the cabin door slamming behind her.

FOUR

Just follow the gravel road. Follow the road. There has to be another cabin. You’ll find someone to help you.

God, please let there be someone else out here. Please send help. Send Mac.

She repeated the words over and over in her mind, never forgetting that finding help equaled freedom. Safety. Mac.

Kenzie’s hands still shook violently. She’d never been in a fight before, but this was no time to back down. She had kicked Myles in the knee as hard as she could and run for all she was worth. And she was still going at full speed.

She ran between the trees lining the cleared road, but the top branches all but blocked the moonlight. She could barely see to put one foot in front of the other and couldn’t see the drooping limbs that scratched at her face and arms, snagging her sweater and ripping at her cheeks and forehead. But she was afraid to run on the road. She would be far too visible to Myles if he pursued her in a car.

She ran as fast as she could manage in the uncomfortable dress shoes she’d worn to match her black skirt. A rush of thankfulness swept through her as she realized that she could be fighting the high heels she had considered wearing, even if they broke a prison rule. She had wanted to be taller than usual, to appear more intimidating with Myles in her classroom. But the uneven ground plus the heels would have equaled disaster.

Still, the impractical shoes pinched her toes with each step. The slick soles slipped along the moist earth, rolling over twigs and leaves as she raced toward freedom. Sliding over a piece of moss, she lost her balance and fell to her hands and knees.

Mud caked on her hands and skirt, and she pushed herself up. She took another deep breath and ignored the stitch in her side. The woods were silent, other than the leaves and twigs crunching under her footsteps. No sounds of Myles’s pursuit. But he wouldn’t just let her get away. He wanted something from her, she was certain. But what? What could she possibly give him?

Her skin crawled to think.

She could not think about those things. Not right now. She had to run.

After what felt like hours, her lungs burned too badly to continue, and she lunged for a nearby tree, seeking the protection of its wide trunk. Knees weak, she sagged against the rough bark.

“Oh, God, what is going on here?” she whispered.

None of it made sense, especially not Myles’s grandmother, who seemed completely oblivious to her cries for help.

And then the sobs came, completely of their own volition, and she was powerless to stop them. Weak and ashamed of her weakness, she let herself cry, all the while keeping a listening ear for the sounds of footsteps behind her.

Her own arms wrapped tightly around her middle against the icy, early morning air, and with her head leaning back against the tree trunk, she could almost fall asleep from the sheer physical and mental exhaustion of the last several hours.

Almost.

Suddenly feather-light footfalls to Kenzie’s left caught her attention. Holding her breath, she waited to see what approached. Expecting a wild bear, or worse—Myles Parsons—she laughed out loud as a deer darted in front of her, stopped and sniffed the air. The creature took a second whiff and bounded off.

Relieved it was only a harmless doe, Kenzie began picking her way through the brush once again. Follow the road. Just follow the road and find another cabin. She could hardly wait for the sun to make its first appearance over the horizon and provide a touch of warmth to the frigid air.

Suddenly a memory halted her in her tracks. In the car Myles had said something about deer. Was that one running from a mountain lion?

A rustling of leaves and brush produced her answer almost immediately as yellow eyes glowed eerily to her left. The answer was a resounding yes.

“Oh, God!” It was the only prayer she could offer before covering her eyes and backing up against the nearest tree.

“That girl!” Myles snarled as his knee buckled beneath his weight yet again. Had she no sense of self-preservation? They were in the mountains—the weather was liable to change at any moment. And what about the wild animals out and about? The sun was hours away from its first appearance, so all of the nightly predators still roamed the area. She’d put herself in serious danger by running off like that—and leaving him in so much pain that he almost couldn’t go after her.

But he’d promised himself he’d protect her. Because it was his job, of course. So he’d scraped himself off the floor and followed her trail.

Of course Kenzie had kicked his injured knee. She must have seen him rubbing it in the car. He had to remember that she was both smarter and spicier than he originally gave her credit for.

He grumbled under his breath at the tree branch that nicked his face as he hobbled along the trail Kenzie left. “God, I’m a little angry here,” he prayed in a tense whisper. “Could You please help me to calm down so I can find Kenzie and get her back to safety?”

The breeze chilled him as he took a deep breath. Leaves rustled as small animals scurried away from night predators. He wondered where that tiny deer they had seen on the drive to the cabin was hiding. Was it still being chased by a mountain lion? Or had the mountain lion found new prey?

As angry as he was, that question spurred him to a faster speed. He had to hurry. Kenzie had already been on the run far too long. It was dangerous out here. Once he got her to safety, he would explain as much as he could. If Nate chewed him out for it later, so be it.

When he finally heard Kenzie’s stick-snapping footsteps, he knew that he was not far behind. Picking up his pace, he whizzed by a deer. It took a split second for the animal’s meaning to fully sink into his distracted mind.

Deer. Mountain lion.

Crud!

Myles growled to himself as he picked up his pace, sneaking up to the small clearing ahead of him. In the darkness, he began to make out the purple of Kenzie’s sweater and the red curls of her hair. Her hands covered her face as she stood stock-still against the trunk of a tree.

Opposite a large female mountain lion.

The woman had no sense of self-preservation. And wasn’t it just his rotten luck that he was committed to keeping her around?

That meant he was going to have to take some sort of action.

God, protect me and this crazy woman!

Without a second thought or prayer, he jumped in front of Kenzie’s shaking form, between her and the snarling cat crouched a few feet away.

“What are you doing?” she whispered into his ear, clinging to his shoulders.

Was she serious? He was saving her tail, whether or not she realized or liked it, and she picked that moment to start up a conversation?

“Shush,” he whispered, barely audibly.

The striped cougar hunched a little lower then bared its long, yellow teeth.

“Is it going to attack?” she asked, her voice shaking with fear.

“What do you think?”

He could feel her head nodding into his right shoulder, her tiny fingers digging sharply into his shoulder blade and deltoid. Thankful for small miracles, he noted that she kept her fingernails short.

“Why are you protecting me?”

Myles sighed heavily. This was hardly the ideal moment for this conversation. But if something happened to him, she had a right to know she would still be in danger. And at least he could be certain that these woods weren’t bugged, unlike the car. “I’m an FBI agent. I was assigned to protect you inside the prison.”

“What?” Her whisper spoke volumes of disbelief.

“I’ll explain the details later.” Suddenly the cat shifted and growled deep in the back of its throat.

“If we’re silent, will it leave us alone?”

“I don’t know. We’re not being very silent, are we?” He did his best to keep his voice low, but it barely mattered. Of course the cat was going to attack. With one eye on the animal and one glancing into her face over his shoulder, he tried to offer a reassuring smile.

She clamped both hands over her mouth, her eyes huge in the strained planes of her face as she realized that she was still talking.

Myles almost laughed out loud. If he had been anywhere else in the world, he would have let out a great belly laugh at the look of panic and shock on Kenzie’s face. But this was not the time or place to ponder that expression. There would be time enough for that later, if they survived.

Yellow eyes glowed in the moonlight as the fur on the mountain lion’s back began to stand up. Completely unprepared, Myles was about to fight a mountain lion to protect Kenzie Thorn. When had he gone insane?

Suddenly he wished for the knife that Guard Whitestall had offered him back at the prison. But wishes don’t scare off mean, angry cougars.

Kenzie gasped, squeezing him even tighter, and Myles knew it was time. This was it. Either God was going to spare his life, or he was going to meet his Maker.

The cat lunged, teeth bared, claws spread wide, as it jumped toward his throat. He dodged left, simultaneously pushing Kenzie behind the tree, out of the path of the mountain lion. A searing pain shot through his right thigh as the force of the seventy-five-pound animal knocked him to the ground.

On the ground, he lost most of the momentum of a blow, but with as much force as he could muster, he punched the animal in the tender flesh of its nose. The cat whined, then immediately growled, whipping its head from side to side.

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