She was the first woman he’d allowed so close.

Two years he had worked to seduce her, drawing her ever closer. At first, it was nothing more than a positioning strategy. Her coffee shop was located directly across the street from the Colby Agency. As time passed, he’d found himself noticing things about her. Like her smile. He missed her when they were apart. That confession rattled him. How had this happened? He’d been taught from birth not to feel any emotion. With Maggie he’d been too human, too weak to resist her, and that had put her in danger.

Now there was only one thing to do.

With one last look at her he walked out the door, the backpack on one shoulder, the automatic in his waistband. He pushed all other thoughts from his mind except the mission.

He would never be safe until the job was done. And neither would Maggie.

Decoded
Debra Webb

www.millsandboon.co.uk

First, I must thank friend and awesome Colby fan Patsy Adkins for helping me

make a big choice for the Colby family in this story. You are awesome, Patsy!

Decoded is dedicated to one woman in particular, Aliya, but also to a group of

wonderful people who give selflessly to NGOs (non-government organizations)

all over the world. Aliya and her team have traveled far and wide to selflessly

help the victims of devastation. Just this year, 2011, they traveled to Japan to help

with the horrific tragedy there.

Thank you, Aliya, for your compassion and for the courage to act.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Debra Webb wrote her first story at age nine and her first romance at thirteen. It wasn’t until she spent three years working for the military behind the Iron Curtain and within the confining political walls of Berlin, Germany, that she realized her true calling. A five-year stint with NASA on the space shuttle program reinforced her love of the endless possibilities within her grasp as a storyteller. A collision course between suspense and romance was set. Debra has been writing romantic suspense and action-packed romantic thrillers since. Visit her at www.DebraWebb.com or write to her at P.O. Box 4889, Huntsville, AL 35815.

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Slade Keaton —He is the enigmatic head of the Equalizers, a private investigations firm that ensures justice outside the law as often as inside. Keaton has secrets that even the woman who loves him is afraid to uncover. Those secrets involve the Colby Agency, and now a dangerous enemy has been roused. Keaton must stop the Dragon before she destroys the people he has come to care about. Can he hope to survive?

Maggie James —She has suspected for a while that Slade Keaton is not who and what he seems, but she is desperately in love with him. Still, Maggie is no fool. She has to do the right thing…but what about the baby she is carrying?

Lucas Camp —Lucas fears that Slade Keaton represents a serious threat to his wife, Victoria, and to him. But is Lucas ready for the truth Keaton’s real story will reveal? Whether he is ready or not, the past has crashed into the present and Lucas must face his most vicious enemy to date.

Victoria Colby-Camp —Victoria will fight for those she loves. Her compassion for Slade Keaton may very well save his life.

Alayna —Alayna has been a loyal subject to the Dragon. But can she look the other way when her brother’s life is threatened? Or will she finally stand up to the monster who is her mother?

Dragon —Pure evil. She might be nothing more than a legend or myth in the Intelligence world. But Lucas Camp and Slade Keaton know just how real and dangerous she is. She has awakened and is poised to devour anyone who gets in the way of her destroying Slade Keaton.

Jim Colby —He is the son of Victoria Colby-Camp, head of the Colby Agency. He has had his reservations about Slade Keaton, however no one understands secrets better than Jim. First and foremost, Jim will protect his mother. But part of him needs to reach out to Keaton, a man who is in the middle of a horrendous nightmare that is all too familiar to Jim Colby.

Ian Michaels and Simon Ruhl —Victoria’s most trusted colleagues. These two men serve as seconds-in-command at the Colby Agency.

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

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter One

Chicago, October 14, 1:05 a.m.

Maggie James parked her car two blocks beyond the brownstone where he would be. She shut off the lights and engine and sat in the darkness. He hadn’t stopped by the coffee shop tonight the way he always did. The way he had done for two years.

Emotion burned Maggie’s eyes. Two years. How had she allowed this to happen? It wasn’t enough that she had been a fool. She had known their relationship was make-believe. That he was a fantasy. Not a single thing he had told her would be the truth. Not his name, not the vague past he’d tossed to her like a bone for a starving dog.

Nothing.

Everything about him was a carefully planned deception. Every fiber of her being sensed the duplicity and yet she couldn’t point to one instance where he had contradicted himself. There hadn’t been a single trip up, but she knew. She just knew.

If she’d had a lick of gumption she should have walked away long ago. Her instincts had warned her time and time again. He’s dangerous. This isn’t real. But she hadn’t listened. Maggie Sue James, thirty-two years old, had pretended it didn’t matter. Each time she had worked up the nerve to tell him to stay away, he’d walked into her coffee shop and she’d lost her courage in that same second. Her knees had gone rubbery and her heart had overridden her brain. He had taken control of her as easily and completely as if she had been a mere puppet.

Maggie swallowed back the lump in her throat. She was addicted to him. There was no denying the truth. Sleep eluded her if he wasn’t in her bed. Her very soul ached if more than a day passed without him making love to her. Even though the intensity of his lovemaking terrified her at times, she could not resist. How was that possible? No man, not even her low-life former husband, had held that kind of power over her. She’d been a lot younger back then. Wasn’t she supposed to be smarter now?

But everything had changed for Maggie sixteen hours and twenty minutes ago. That defining instant had somehow cleared the fog from her brain, and her entire life had zoomed into vivid focus.

At 7:40 a.m. she had finally summoned the courage to take a pregnancy test. It had been positive. Positive.

She was pregnant and plenty old enough to know better. How had this happened? She swallowed those little daily pills faithfully. Never missed a day. Ever. Two more tests an hour or so later—long enough to frantically dash to the corner drugstore—had both confirmed the same reality. Maggie was pregnant.

Squaring her shoulders, she pushed aside the apron she’d shed once she’d gotten into the car, and grabbed her purse. A busy night at the coffee shop had distracted her from this necessary business for a while. At closing time the anger had started to build once more, pounding in her skull like the threatening winds of a hurricane. The next thing she knew, she had been in her car headed here. This couldn’t wait any longer.

Over the past eight years she had climbed a couple of mountains. She had finally dumped her no-good, cheating husband. The move from Indianapolis to Chicago had given her a fresh start. Two years later she’d bought the drowning coffee shop and she’d turned it into the place to stop while shopping or working on the Magnificent Mile. Her name had become the talk around watercoolers and in checkout lines. She had worked hard to achieve that success—and she’d done it during the worst of the sluggish economy.

She could do this. Slade Keaton wasn’t interested in a wife, much less a child. He would be glad to let her go just as soon as she informed him that she was pregnant. Anger elbowed aside the softer emotions. Oh, he would be only too happy to disappear from her life then. Whatever his reason for hanging around this long, it wasn’t about her. That made for a bad relationship regardless of the other concerns she suspected.

Well, that was fine. Maggie opened her car door and climbed out. The late-autumn chill invaded her jacket, making her shiver. The sooner he was out of her life for good, the better off she would be. Maybe then she could finally move on.

Maggie surveyed the street in both directions before locking her car. This wasn’t exactly a bad neighborhood anymore, but at night there was no such thing as a really good neighborhood. The row of brownstones lined two blocks. Some were still private residences, but most had been turned into businesses years ago.

Her hands burrowed deep into her pockets, cell phone clasped in her right, as she walked toward the brownstone on the end of the first block. The windows were dark. Her steps slowed. He had to be here. When he wasn’t at her small apartment over the coffee shop, he was here, at his place of business on the ground floor, or in his second-floor apartment.

Maggie scanned the vehicles parked along the street. His sedan wasn’t among them. There was an alley along the rear of the row of brownstones. During the daylight hours city maintenance and garbage collection vehicles required full access, but at night the area was fair game. Maybe he’d parked there. Maybe he’d called it a night, which would explain the lack of lights.

And maybe she was crazy for coming here at this hour. Then again, he’d left her little choice when he didn’t show at the coffee shop. She had to do this while she still had the nerve. The needling notion that something was wrong cut through all the confusion in her brain, leaking a new kind of fear into her belly. He’d always come to watch the folks at the Colby Agency leave for the night. Never failed.

But not tonight.

What if he’d already left? Just walked away? Running his private-investigations firm from some other location was certainly possible. Slade didn’t do any of the actual investigating himself. He rarely met with clients.

He could be gone.

Her knees felt a little wobbly and her stomach churned with uncertainty. Wouldn’t that be a good thing? She wanted him out of her life. He wouldn’t be interested in a child. Why tell him? Leaving out that complication would make this entire matter far simpler. The last thing she wanted was for him to hang around just for the sake of the child. What kind of father would he make if forced into the role?

What kind of mother would she make?

Dear God, what am I going to do? Terror nipped at her. She wrenched her hands from her pockets and wrapped her arms around her waist. She’d always taken care of herself, yes. But this was a child! A whole human life that would be counting on her! What if she screwed up? What if she couldn’t do it? Her parents had been hardworking, salt-of-the-earth people. Good parents. Would she be a good mother? And could she assume the part of father, as well?

Her younger sister had three kids, but she also had a husband who was a fantastic dad. Heck, her older sister had five kids and she’d done just fine after her husband died.

Maggie kicked aside the fears and doubts and grabbed back her courage. She was a James. Having a houseful of kids was the norm. Truth was, Maggie had wanted kids a long time ago, but her bum of a husband had put off the idea. Lucky for Maggie and the prospective children.

Sadly, the only thing thoughts of her ex proved was that Maggie was foolish enough to fall hard for the wrong kind of guy twice.

When would she learn?

A little late to worry about that now.

Her cell vibrated. Maggie dragged it from her pocket and stared at the screen. It was him. Her heart commenced that crazy gallop.

She considered not answering. But wasn’t talking to him why she was here? He could be waiting for her back at her place.

Maggie cleared her throat. “Hello.” She struggled to slow her breathing and tune out the pounding in her ears. Be calm. Stay focused. This was far too important to allow emotions to override her good sense.

“Turn around and walk back to your car.”

A trickle of fresh fear seeped into her chest. “What?” Maggie glanced around. “Where are you?”

“Walk back to your car. Now.”

She swiped a wisp of hair from her cheek. “Not until you tell me where you are.” She was finished. No more games. No more fantasies. This was reality. Butterflies swirled in her stomach.

“This is not the time to turn stubborn, Maggie.” His voice was stern, just shy of harsh.

Frustration tightened her lips. She shoved the phone back into her pocket. She wanted to just keep walking in the other direction. Actually what she wanted to do was call him back and tell him to go to hell.

Instead, she obeyed like a submissive child.

You can’t keep doing this, Maggie!

She was a grown woman. With a child on the way! She had to get past this. Do a 12-step program. Something. Slade Keaton was trouble and she needed him out of her life. Now.

Her lips trembled. Tears brimmed on her lashes. Idiot. Idiot. She stamped the rest of the way back to her car, hit the remote unlock and got behind the wheel.

“Now what?” she muttered to herself. Was this a game to him? This was her life and she was sick of games. She should just leave and never look back.

Where the hell was he? Her car’s interior lamp faded to black. Obviously he could see her from wherever he was. Coward.

“Start the engine and drive away.”

Her breath caught. Their gazes locked in the rearview mirror. How had he gotten into her car? Hadn’t she locked it? She’d hit the unlock on the remote two steps before reaching the car, which was habit, but there wouldn’t have been a warning that the doors were unlocked already. Where was her brain?

“Hurry, Maggie. I don’t know how much time we have left.”

Her hand shook as she picked through the keys for the right one. All the questions she wanted to hurl at him clogged into a huge knot in her throat, and the thick silence throbbing inside the car made it hard to breathe. It took two attempts to get the key into the ignition. A quick twist and the engine started.

“Drive.”

The tone of that one word warned her that she shouldn’t ask any questions. She set the headlamps to the on position and eased away from the curb.

“Where are we going?” She hated that her voice trembled. Damn him.

“Just drive.”

Fury blasted her. That was it. She’d had enough. Maggie slammed her foot on the brake. The car rocked to a stop. “Where are we going?” She was a grown woman. She had responsibilities, first and foremost to herself.

“Maggie.”

She closed her eyes, couldn’t bear to hear him say her name. “Stop. Just stop.” She shook her head. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“We have to move,” he urged. “We can talk later. Right now you just have to trust me.”

Maggie laughed. She didn’t mean to, but the sound, brittle and painful, just burst out of her. “You have to be kidding!” She was hysterical. The stress had evidently pushed her over the edge.

When cold steel pressed against her temple, her attention swung to the rearview mirror. He had a gun to her head. A gun! “What’re you doing?”

“Drive, Maggie. Just drive.”

Her fingers tightened around the steering wheel. Forcing her foot to move from the brake to the accelerator, she reminded herself to breathe. She’d made a terrible, terrible mistake.

An explosion fragmented the silence. Light burst to her left, changing the darkness to a brilliant yellow. Pieces of something showered down on her car. Not hail…but rocks or pieces of brick.

As if in slow motion, she turned to stare out the car window. The brownstone where Slade worked and lived had blown up. Flames licked toward the stars. Pieces of the building lay on the sidewalk…on the street. On the hood of her car.

“Go, Maggie! Hurry!”

Somehow her foot punched the accelerator. The car lunged forward.

She tried to blink away the images, her fingers cramped from clutching the steering wheel so tightly. This couldn’t be happening. The man she loved—the father of her unborn child—had put a gun to her head. His office—his apartment—had just exploded.

In that moment her reality sharpened into perfect clarity. She had never known this man. She had suspected as much. Her intuition had warned repeatedly that he was hiding something. Everything. Above all else, his identity.

Maggie slammed on the brakes, harder this time. She glared at his reflection in the rearview mirror. “Who are you?”

He leaned forward, reached up and threaded his fingers into her hair. His hold tightened as he pulled her closer. She should scream. She knew this. But his slightest touch rendered her totally helpless.

“I know you better than you know yourself, Maggie. I know you want to trust me.”

She wanted to argue. The words refused to form on her tongue. The sound of his voice slid around her, tethering her as surely as if he’d used steel bands. How could she lose all control so easily? Where was her courage? Her logic?

His lips pressed nearer to her ear. She shivered. “If you don’t do as I say we’re both going to die. I, for one, have no desire to die tonight.”

The cold steel of the weapon he held snuggled against her throat. “Now, drive.”

Chapter Two

2:10 a.m.

Victoria Colby-Camp heard the ring of the bedside phone, but the concept of opening her eyes and answering was far too difficult to grasp. The sound of her husband’s voice as he took the call parted the constricting layers of sleep, allowing her to rouse more fully. Who would call at this hour?

“Was anyone hurt?”

Victoria sat up, instantly wide awake. “What’s happened?” Was it Jim or one of the children? A member of their extended family at the Colby Agency? Fear roared through her body like a fire set to dry kindling.

“We’ll be right there.” Lucas heaved a weary breath as he placed the phone back into its cradle and turned to his wife. “A friend from Chicago P.D. called Jim. We don’t have any real details just yet, but there’s been an explosion at the brownstone.”

The offices of Jim’s old firm, the Equalizers. Almost two years ago now, Slade Keaton had taken over the firm since Jim had joined Victoria at the Colby Agency. Early last year Keaton had moved into the renovated upstairs apartment of the brownstone. Jim had gone there shortly after midnight to confront him regarding their suspicions as to his true identity. He’d found no sign of Keaton. Thank God Jim hadn’t been in or near the building when the explosion occurred.

“Was anyone in the building?” Maggie James, the owner of the coffee shop across the street from the Colby Agency offices, was Keaton’s girlfriend. Anguish tore through Victoria. She prayed they were both safe. Whoever Keaton was and whatever he had done, Victoria wished him no harm. And Maggie was innocent in all this. Her only misstep was falling in love with a man whose past was an enigma that even Lucas hadn’t been able to decipher.

“The explosion occurred less than an hour ago. Maybe fifteen minutes after Jim was there looking for Keaton.” Lucas adjusted his prosthetic leg and stood. “They’ve only just gotten the fire under control. They’re waiting for the rubble to cool to start the search.”

Victoria dropped her feet to the carpeted floor and rushed to the closet for clothes. “Were any of the neighboring buildings damaged?” she called out to Lucas. The brownstones along the two nearly identical blocks were structurally connected. She doubted one could have been destroyed without damage to one or more of the others. Since most were businesses, she prayed no one had been working late. The injury or death of the innocent was always the most devastating in deliberate acts such as this. Admittedly, she had no way of knowing if the explosion was deliberate just yet. However, based on the events that had taken place recently related to Keaton, she felt confident that the explosion was the result of foul play.

“The two buildings on either side were damaged, but Jim didn’t mention to what extent. He may not have known. He’s en route. We’ll be right behind him. Perhaps there will be more information by then.”

Victoria dressed and stepped into a pair of comfortable leather slides, not bothering with socks. Grabbing a clasp from her bedside table, she tucked up her shoulder-length hair. Lucas was dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt and sneakers, no less. She so rarely saw him dressed casually that she almost smiled in spite of the circumstances. Thank God for him. As much as she loved her son and her grandchildren, her life would not be complete without Lucas.

Victoria grabbed her purse as they hurried to the garage. Lucas tucked his weapon into the waistband of his jeans. Ever the gentleman, he opened then closed her car door before climbing behind the wheel. As soon as they backed out into the driveway, the house and garage were secured with a single click of the security remote. The rest of their small gated community was tucked in for the night. The gas streetlamps and lovely landscape lighting had a calming effect. As scary as the world could be sometimes, she was very thankful for a safe and pleasant neighborhood.

With her nerves settled, Victoria used the time as Lucas drove through the darkness to consider the possible causes of the explosion. Gas leak…? Explosive device? Did Keaton keep explosives on hand? Surely that was not the case.

Considering what had happened only days ago to Levi Stark and Casey Manning, Lucas’s goddaughter, in Acapulco, Keaton had made some powerful enemies. Had those enemies caught up with him this night?

Victoria blinked away the images that immediately attempted to intrude. She didn’t want to think about the woman…the one they called the Dragon. According to Levi and Casey, she looked a great deal like Victoria—like a sister. That Lucas had had an affair with the woman made it hard for Victoria to breathe.

But that was in the past. Thirty years ago. Victoria had no right to feel jealousy about that time. If this woman was Keaton’s mother, as suggested from the results of Levi and Casey’s investigation, she clearly had no motherly feelings for her son. That part of the intelligence—the biological connection—had not been corroborated, so it was best not to speculate. Bottom line, the Dragon was an enemy to Keaton and, it seemed, to Lucas.

The idea made no sense. Why wait all these years to strike? Of course, she may have only just located Keaton. Perhaps thanks to Victoria and Lucas trolling his history. As much as she wanted the truth in order to assess any threat from Keaton, Victoria genuinely hoped she and Lucas had not triggered this tragedy.

“This has nothing to do with anything you did.”

Her husband had read her mind. The tension banded around her chest eased the slightest bit. “How can you be so sure?” She had sent Levi down to Mexico. Keaton had stirred her suspicions and she’d reacted. Dear God, what had they done?

“This one is on me,” Lucas said quietly. “You need to understand that. You have no part in that world.”

The question Victoria had wanted to ask for the past twenty-four hours pressed against her skull. She needed to know. But did she have a right to know? “Are you certain I had no part in what happened?” She held her breath. The woman looked like Victoria, after all. Had that been the reason Lucas had turned to her all those years ago?

Two, then three beats of silence passed. Lucas reached for her hand. “Let’s not do this to ourselves until we have the facts. Whatever is happening may be about Keaton only. The ordeal in Mexico may have been a way to smoke him out once our connection to him was established.” Lucas exhaled a big breath. “The fact is, we can’t rule out or confirm anything yet.”

Victoria ordered herself to breathe. Lucas had assumed her question was about the current situation. In time they would need to talk about her other question, the one she really needed to ask. But that would have to wait.

This puzzle had to be pieced together very carefully, one fragment at a time. Far too much was at stake to go about this any other way.

THE BROWNSTONE STILL smoldered when they arrived on the block. Jim waited for them just outside the perimeter of the crime scene. The cold filtered right through the thick sweater Victoria had chosen. She hugged her arms around herself and hoped for good news about Keaton and Maggie.

“Still no word on victims,” Jim said as they approached. “I called Maggie’s home number as well as the coffee shop and there’s no answer. Keaton isn’t answering his cell and his car is parked in the alley.” Jim jerked his head toward the brownstone. “It’ll be hours before we know the probable cause of the explosion and if there are victims.”

The chill invading her bones turned Victoria’s blood to ice. “What about the neighboring buildings?”

“One’s empty and the other’s a business. The owner has confirmed that no one employed there was in the building tonight.”

Thank God for that news. Victoria stared at the wreck that had been the home of the Equalizers. Her instincts warned that this was deliberate, calculated destruction. Whoever had done this either wanted Keaton dead or wanted to send him a very loud message.

Lucas and Jim discussed the steps that would be taken by the police and fire departments. Victoria tried to pay attention, but her mind kept wandering to Maggie and how all this would affect her—if she was still alive. Dread ached in Victoria’s bones.

Jim had tried to reach Keaton all night, but he’d simply disappeared. Victoria had considered calling Maggie or paying her a visit to warn her. What would she have said? I think the man you love is dangerous?

Regret settled, heavy and sickening, in Victoria’s stomach. She should have warned Maggie.

Now it might be too late.

Chapter Three

2:32 a.m.

Slade Keaton… He didn’t know why he continued to consider himself by that name. That life was over. If he’d needed convincing, the past couple of hours had confirmed that fact. Hanging on to such superficial trappings was a grave error. He knew this.

Another change wasn’t the end of the world. He’d changed his name so many times during the latter part of his thirty years on this earth that he couldn’t even remember all the ones he’d used. This was not a new scenario to him.

Yet, somehow, it felt like the end of the world…like a whole new concept. Because of her. His gaze settled on the woman behind the wheel. Slade closed his eyes and shook his head. He’d made a mistake. That, he could say with complete confidence, was a first. He opened his eyes and focused his attention on the dark road ahead. A man like him couldn’t afford careless mistakes. He’d been trained better than that.

Images from his formative years attempted to invade his concentration. He kicked them aside. The past was irrelevant. Nothing mattered except today…this moment. He would not die for her.

Rage tightened his lips. Mother. Madre. The woman who had been anything but a mother to him. He had eluded her, just as he had eluded the rest of the world, for a dozen years now. No one had cornered him. But his recent mistake had allowed her to find him. Now there was only one way this could end.

One of them had to die.

The idea of killing his own mother evoked only one emotion. Determination.

“What now?”

Slade shifted his attention back to the here and now. Maggie had stopped at an intersection. Deep, dark woods closed in on all sides, leaving the highway nothing but a black river flowing in front of the headlights. Even the moon and stars had concealed themselves as if they, too, sensed the impending doom.

“Do I go straight or turn?” Her voice was sharp but still shaky. She was scared and rightly so. Maggie James had no idea how close to death she’d already come. If he was successful in maintaining her cooperation, she would never know.

“Take a right.” Slade calculated the miles before they reached the motel. Four, maybe five more. The place was a dump, but it was close to the interstate and there was a café next door. It would fulfill his immediate requirements.

Maggie made the turn and drove onward through the darkness. She’d stopped asking questions an hour ago. Mostly because of the weapon he’d wielded. Guilt nudged him. He’d done what he had to. She might never realize it, but he’d saved her life.

“How much farther?”

It looked as if she was through with the silent treatment. “Not far now.” She wasn’t going to like the next step in his plan any more than she’d liked the last. There was nothing he could do about that. Time was of the essence.

The headlamps spotlighted a road sign in the distance indicating a ramp to the interstate. After he’d covered arrangements for Maggie, he’d take that interstate to St. Louis. From there he had private air transport to Mexico City. He had contacts in Mexico City. This war would require extensive resources. And a whole lot of something he’d been short on his whole life—good luck.

Luck, right. He had made his own way in this life. Depending on luck would have offered him as much security as counting on his so-called mother to be a parent. Not happening.

Slade hadn’t actually missed having a real parent. One couldn’t miss what one hadn’t had. But, recently, he had begun to wonder what it would have felt like. What his life would have been like had his circumstances been different. How would it feel to have a real relationship?

He was a fool. Fury hardened his jaw. He should not have stayed in Chicago so long. Weakness had invaded, making him soft and stupid. He would never have a real anything. He was not real, not in that sense.

The motel’s aged neon sign strained upward, high above the one-story queue of run-down rooms, in order to be seen by travelers on the interstate. Two tractor-trailers were parked along the side of the road. There wouldn’t be enough space on the old strip of a parking lot for rigs that size, but the motel offered drivers a cheap place to sleep for a few hours before hitting the road again. Slade had checked out the motel and gotten a profile on the typical guest.

“Pull into the motel parking lot,” he instructed, then waited for her to comply. “Park in front of the office.”

He’d rented the car under an alias and stashed it for this leg of his departure. He hadn’t known then that he would have a passenger. To some degree the snag could work in his favor. Having dumped Maggie’s car at the bus station would serve as a ruse, helping to buy sufficient time to get to St. Louis.

Maggie shut off the headlights and the engine. Her hands continued to clutch the steering wheel. Her respiration was slow enough to indicate some level of calmness, but he couldn’t be certain of how she would react during the next few minutes.

“We’re going in to rent a room.” He leaned forward. “Don’t force me to do something you’ll regret.”

“Like you haven’t already?”

Her voice didn’t wobble now; rather, she sounded weary and resigned and just a little frustrated. That shouldn’t make his gut tighten with regret, but it did. He mentally narrowed the situation into focus and blocked those senseless, dangerous emotions. “You’ll thank me later. Now, get out.”

They emerged simultaneously. He tucked the weapon into his waistband beneath his jacket. His arm went around her waist and she tensed.

“Relax.” He paused and looked directly into her green eyes. They glistened with the fear she worked so hard to hide. “We need this to look natural. No trouble, okay?”

She nodded. He gave her a quick kiss on the lips. Her breath caught and she trembled. The satisfaction he should have felt at having that much power over her failed to make an appearance.

Keeping one arm around her, Slade pushed open the door to the office. A bell jingled. The guy behind the desk looked up from the compact television blaring with the canned laughter of a sitcom. He studied Slade from behind his nerdy eyeglasses. Looked young enough to be a college student or maybe a dropout. Working the graveyard shift apparently made him a little jumpy. He lowered the volume on the set.

“You need a room for the night—” the guy glanced at Maggie “—or the hour?”

Slade didn’t smile. He reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a bill big enough to get the clever guy’s attention. “The night. We’ve still got a long way to drive.” He pulled Maggie closer and gave her the smile he’d kept from the clerk. “Don’t we, baby?”

She nodded, the move jerky. “We… Yes.”

The clerk reached for the old-fashioned row of boxes that held actual keys to the available rooms. “Make it on the west end,” Slade prompted. “I don’t want to wake up with the sun in my eyes.”

The clerk tossed a key onto the counter. “Clean sheets are over there.” He pointed to a row of shelves on the other side of the room. “Checkout time’s 10:00 a.m.”

“Thanks.” Slade picked up the key, then, keeping Maggie close, grabbed a stack of bed linens.

Outside, Slade opened the passenger-side door of the rental. “Hop in. We’ll park in front of the room.”

Maggie climbed in and Slade closed her door. He kept an eye on her as he rounded the hood. Those Irish genes of hers could kick in anytime now. Maintaining control was essential.

The view of their room and the sedan would be blocked by the tractor-trailers parked along the road at that end of the property. Any additional layers of security were welcome.

Once parked, Slade was out of the car first and at her side by the time she opened her door. He passed the linens to her, then ushered her to the trunk where he grabbed the one bag he’d brought along, a backpack. To her credit, she didn’t scream or try to run or even argue with him as he guided her to the room. She waited quietly as he unlocked the door and opened it. Just as quietly, she walked inside and turned on the lamp on the bedside table. The linens landed in a heap on the naked mattress.

The bare bulb glowing above their door was the only exterior light working on that end of the row of rooms. He unscrewed the bulb and took a final look around the parking lot. They seemed to be in the clear for now.

With the door secured, he checked the bathroom and closet, then placed his bag on the floor and shoved the key into his jacket pocket alongside her cell phone. He’d taken it as soon as they were far enough away from the explosion for her to work up the courage to try to use it without him noticing. He’d turned it off and removed the battery, just in case.

Maggie was strong and brave. He’d admired that about her for the past two years. She would need all the strength and bravery she possessed for what was to come.

As if that courage had abruptly kicked in to full throttle, she turned on him, green eyes blazing as hotly as that mane of red hair. “What kind of trouble are you in—” her lips tightened “—whoever you are?”

“Sit.” He gestured to the bed.

Her arms crossed over her chest. “I’m not taking any more orders until you answer my questions.”

Weariness hit him hard. Or maybe it was the drain of having her look at him that way. Funny, his entire life he’d never cared what anyone thought of him. He’d stopped caring about that kind of thing by the time he was seven. By twelve he would have killed anyone who got in his way like this. That he tolerated it now startled him still. His indulgence of this unfamiliar aspect of human bonding the past two years was the biggest surprise of all. He’d spent endless hours making this lonely, hardworking woman want him as she had never wanted anyone before. After that, he’d told himself that stringing her along was necessary for his cover.

As it turned out, he had been the fool.

He contemplated drawing his weapon to gain her cooperation, but he lacked sufficient motivation. Instead, he dropped into the chair by the window. The room was a little cold, so he turned on the heat. The box beneath the window rumbled then shook with the effort of noisily blowing out stale air.

“I mean it,” she warned when he turned his attention to her once more. “If you don’t tell me what’s going on, I’m walking out that door.”

He dropped his head back on the chair and deliberated as to which lie to offer. There were so many. So many, in fact, that he had to think hard to sift out the most recent ones. Counting the water stains on the ceiling distracted him for a moment. The stains were dark and without uniformity or pattern. Like his life.

As good as her word, Maggie started for the door. He grabbed her arm as she passed his chair. Her gaze collided with his. She was just mad enough to call his bluff. Another funny thing. He never bluffed.

His lapse into the mundane was going to get him killed. And anyone else who had the misfortune of being with or connected to him.

“Maggie, sit down.”

She stared at him for an endless moment before relenting. With a frustrated about-face she stamped to the bed and sat, arms still crossed, one foot patting against the ragged, once-beige carpet.

With a heavy breath he settled his eyes on hers. “The people who hit the brownstone—”

“You mean the ones who blew it up?” she snapped. “That’s what they did, Slade. They blew it up.” She gestured in frustration. “Innocent people may have been injured or killed.”

He reached for patience. “No one was injured or killed.”

“How do you know?” She shot to her feet. “You can’t know!”

“I have a contact who’s keeping me informed.” He’d received two messages since they left Chicago. Unless an unauthorized person had been inside the buildings on either side of the brownstone that housed the Equalizer offices, no one had been hurt.

Maggie dropped back down to the mattress. “That’s one good thing.”

He had her attention, so he might as well get to the point. “I need you to stay here for a few days.” Her eyes grew rounder with each word he said. “Until the dust settles. When it’s safe for you to go home, I’ll give you the all clear.”

MAGGIE TOOK A MOMENT TO calm the outrage and indignation mounting inside her. She had decided that he had no intention of killing her or he surely would have by now. Still, pushing the issue wouldn’t be smart. God knew, she’d been wrong about him all this time, so what made her think she knew anything now?

“Where are you going?” Someone obviously wanted him dead. Was he going to go up against whoever this was alone? She tried her best to ignore the weight on her chest. Why did she care? If she were smart she would let him go and then get out of here as fast as possible. “Who did this? What do they want?”

He braced his forearms on his spread thighs. His unusually dark gray eyes studied hers. “The person responsible for what you witnessed tonight has been looking for me for a very long time. I can’t evade her any longer. When this—”

“Her?” Maggie felt her brow furrow in confusion. The person responsible for this insanity was a woman? An old lover? Jealousy flooded her, washing away the harsher emotions she’d hoped to hang on to.

“The less you know,” he advised in that deep voice that curled around her like a warm, familiar blanket, “the better. You’re already a target simply by virtue of the fact that you’ve been seen with me.”

Maggie’s head started to spin. She felt sick to her stomach. How had she gotten herself into this? “I don’t understand.”

“You have to believe me when I say that she will stop at nothing to get to me. Anyone in her path will go down, too. Anyone she believes she can use to get to me will suffer an even worse fate.”

Maggie hugged herself more tightly. Her fingernails bit into her skin despite the sweater she wore. “What kind of person has enemies like that?” She wasn’t totally naive. She watched the news. There were bad people out there. All kinds. But was this about drugs? Guns? Stolen goods? Murder? An angry client of his private-investigations business? Or some past business dealings? What?

She held his gaze, her insides raging with an agonizing twist of emotions. This man was the father of her child. Yet she had no idea why someone would want to kill him. She didn’t know him at all.

As if sensing her thoughts, he looked away. “The kind of person you don’t want to know.”

As cold as he’d been from the moment their gazes locked in her rearview mirror, just now she heard something almost like vulnerability in his voice. But that was impossible. Just her imagination. She wanted to hear real emotion and that wasn’t going to happen.

“I’d say it’s a little late for that.” He’d been dragging her heart around for almost two years now. This wasn’t the time to suggest she didn’t want to know him. He’d stolen that option from her a long time ago.

Slade pushed to his feet. “There’s nothing I can do to change that now.” He nudged the curtain aside and stared into the night.

“So that’s it.” She shook her head. “You steal two years of my life and then you tell me there’s nothing you can do to make this right.” Hysteria had edged into her voice. She forced it back. “What does that make you, Slade?” A user, she didn’t say. But it was true. He’d used her to get close to Victoria and Lucas. She understood that part now. If her friends at the Colby Agency were in danger it would be her fault. That confounded quaking started deep inside her once more.

He had weaseled his way into her life for a reason. Something that involved the Colby Agency. Maggie had a right to some answers.

“Why the Colby Agency? They’re good people. What could they possibly have done to you?”

He turned around, his face a hard mask she couldn’t hope to read. “You think you know people, but you don’t. Can you really be certain they’re good people? Can you? Really?”

“Of course I can,” she retorted without hesitation. “It’s you I don’t know.”

“At least we agree on something.”

Maggie dared to take two steps toward him. His gaze narrowed. “You made me love you.” Her throat tried to close. She fought the aching emotions. “Just so you could do whatever it was you came to Chicago to do.”

More of the dingy carpet between them disappeared as he took a step toward her, matching her stance. The air vanished from her lungs. “I didn’t do anything you didn’t want me to do.”

The tremors grew stronger. She struggled to restrain the visible shaking. “You never felt anything for me, did you?” How could she love the wrong man twice in her life? Hadn’t she learned anything the first time around? That part hurt the most. Knowing that she loved him so much and he felt nothing at all.

“Listen to me carefully, Maggie.”

He touched her. She couldn’t bear it. She drew away.

His hand dropped to his side. “You have one chance at surviving this. If you do exactly as I say, you’ll be safe.”

As though she would trust anything he said. She laughed. “You said yourself that she’d seen me with you. What’s to keep her from coming after me once you’re gone?” And what would happen to him? Would he be able to win against this woman who had sought him for so long? Misery writhed inside Maggie. The idea that her child would never know his or her father abruptly tore at her with staggering viciousness.

“I won’t let that happen.”

How could he make such a promise? “You can’t guarantee my safety.” If that were the case, they wouldn’t be holed up in this hovel. Was he kidding her or himself?

“It’s me she wants,” he said, his voice weary. “As long as you stay out of the way you’ll be safe.”

He wasn’t going to give her any answers. This man she had come to love was going to leave her and she would never know if he was dead or alive.

“Then go.” She pointed to the door. “Just go.”

“Don’t call anyone you know. Don’t leave except to get food from the café next door.” He held up his hands for emphasis. “No matter what you hear or see, just stay put until I tell you otherwise.”

The pain that coiled inside her as he reached for his bag was very nearly unbearable. How could she just let him go like this? But wasn’t that what she wanted? To be free of him? She couldn’t trust him. She didn’t even know who he was. Her baby would be better off without him. She would be better off.

Then why did it feel as though her world was crashing to an end with every step he took?

He hesitated at the door.

Maggie felt as if her very bones had crumbled, leaving her helpless and unable to move.

Slade turned, his gaze settled on her and he strode back to where she stood. His hand closed around her neck and he pulled her close. He kissed her hard. Made her melt against his body. How could she spend the rest of her life without him?

By the time he drew his lips from hers she was gasping for breath. He pressed his forehead to hers. “You make me wish I was someone else.”

He tucked something into her jacket pocket and walked away.

Fiery tears flowed down her cheeks. She would never see him again, never—

The window shattered, raining glass into the room.

Slade spun around, lunged toward her, taking her to the floor and covering her body with his.

“Stay down.”

Her heart seized when he scrambled to the bedside table and turned off the lamp. Something thunked against the wall near the bed. Was someone shooting at them? There hadn’t been any gunshot blasts.

He moved in close to her in the darkness. “There’s a window in the bathroom. You may have to break it to get out.”

Was he sending her out the back way alone? Fear crowded into her throat, choking off the air to her lungs. “But what will you—”

“Listen to me, Maggie.”

The base of the lamp on the bedside table burst. Maggie screamed.

“I’m going out that door to draw them away. I’ll fire three shots in a row when it’s clear for you to go out the back. Run as far into the woods as you can and stay there until you hear sirens. The police will come.”

Before she could argue, he was opening the door.

A bullet thwacked into the doorjamb just above his head. Fear crammed into her chest.

Maggie struggled with the need to run after him. But she had to protect her baby. She crawled to the bathroom, crept inside and closed the door.

For long seconds or minutes, she couldn’t say for sure which, she sat on the floor, her back against the wall, and tried to catch her breath. Her heart pounded so fast it hurt.

She prayed hard for her child’s protection. For Slade’s protection. She checked her pocket to see what he’d put there, part of her hoping for a note that explained everything. Cash. She closed her eyes and fought the wave of tears.

A sharp sound cut through the silence. Then a second gunshot. A third rang out and her muscles instinctively reacted. She sprang to her feet and felt for the window. It was large enough, but the lower sash didn’t want to budge. She double-checked that it was unlocked, then pushed upward with every ounce of strength in her body.

The window slowly slid up.

She listened for a moment, then climbed onto the closed toilet lid and thrust her head out the window. It was dark as pitch behind the motel. Trees crowded close to the back of the building.

Maggie scrambled out, almost falling in her haste. When her feet were firmly on the ground, she steadied herself and started toward the woods.

Another gunshot echoed in the night.

Did that mean Slade was still okay? The other weapons hadn’t made that sound.

“Well, well,” a male voice—not Slade’s—announced from behind her. Something hard nudged her in the back. “Just where do you think you’re going?”

A scream withered in her throat.

“That’s what I thought,” he taunted. “Nowhere. Now, get down on your knees and I’ll make this quick.”

Maggie had no weapon. She couldn’t even seem to scream.

He was going to kill her even if she did exactly as he said.

Maggie ran. She burst forward like a racehorse let loose from the starting gate. The ground seemed to move under her feet even as she leaned forward to advance her escape. Every muscle in her body tensed, waiting for the inevitable burn of hot lead piercing her skin.

A blast ricocheted in her ears.

She stumbled and fell face-first to the ground.

Chapter Four

The air exited Slade’s lungs.

The moon peeked from behind the clouds just enough to highlight Maggie’s body facedown on the ground. An unfamiliar sensation slammed into his gut. Was she hit?

He was at her side before the question stopped throbbing in his skull.

She grunted and started to push herself up.

The relief that roared through his veins sent a quake along his limbs. He helped her up, tried to see any injury despite the lack of decent light. “Maggie, did you take a hit?”

She pushed the hair out of her face and looked around. Her attention locked on the guy with the bullet in the back of his skull three feet from her and her breath caught. She made a panicked sound and stumbled back, her body trembling in fear.

There was no time for hysteria. Slade shook her even as he gave himself a mental shake. “Maggie, are you injured?”

She moved her head side to side. “No.” Her hand went to her stomach. “I’m okay. I think I’m okay.”

“We need to hurry.” He couldn’t wait for her to regain her equilibrium or take the time to check the dead guy for ID. They had to get out of here.

Maggie held up a hand. “Give me a second.” She swayed, took a breath and visibly attempted to steady herself.

Slade gritted his teeth and reached for patience. How the hell had she found him so quickly? His contact, no doubt. Bud McCain was the only resource in the States that Slade trusted fully. He’d intervened in Acapulco, ultimately saving the lives of Lucas Camp’s goddaughter and Colby Agency investigator Levi Stark. That move, however, had obviously put McCain on the Dragon’s radar. She had likely tracked him down and made him pay.

Fury raged in Slade’s gut. His best resource and friend, if he’d ever had one, was likely dead. There was no other explanation for her learning Slade’s plans. McCain would never have given up a single detail, but his cell phone or computer would have cyber tracks of where he’d been and what he’d done. A top-notch analyst would be able to find those tracks no matter how well hidden or how meticulously wiped. She would select only the very best in each field for her elite team. Damn her.

Slade should have killed her when he’d had the chance, but he’d scarcely been more than a kid. What does a child know of right versus wrong, bizarre versus normal?

Pushing aside the pointless obsessing, he quickly ticked off their options. Transportation to St. Louis might very well be compromised. The more immediate problem was getting out of here fast.

Slade swore as sirens wailed in the distance.

The car was out of the question now. The highway, too. The increasingly deafening blare of the approaching police made that all too clear.

Hiking his bag onto his shoulder, Slade surveyed the tree line.

The options were sorely limited. “You ready now?”

Maggie nodded.

Running was better than nothing.

Her hand tight in his, he sprinted into the woods.

MAGGIE STRUGGLED TO KEEP UP. Her chest heaved in desperation, but the air just wouldn’t find its way into her lungs. That man was dead…Slade had killed him. But the man had had a gun to her head. Would he have killed her if Slade hadn’t stopped him?

Yes.

Of that part she was sure. Sweet Lord, there was no escaping these people.

She couldn’t do this.

The police were coming to the motel. She’d heard the sirens. She and Slade should go back, explain the situation and get help. He couldn’t do this alone.

Maggie wrenched her hand free of his. The loss of momentum made her stumble. She hit the ground on her hands and knees. Before she could get up and run the other way, Slade was reaching for her.

“We can’t go back, Maggie.”

The trees blocked any prospect of light. She could make out his form but little else. What difference did it make? No matter how well she knew his eyes…his face…every part of him, she didn’t know him. The longer she allowed her foolish indecisiveness to drag out, the harder it would be to do the right thing. “I won’t do this.” She shook her head. “I can’t. I’m going back.” If she did the right thing, maybe he would, too.

Maggie turned around and did what she should have done hours ago. She walked away from the danger that was Slade Keaton.

“You have no reason to trust me.”

His words shouldn’t have stalled her next step, but they did. Dear God, what was wrong with her? She had more sense than this under normal circumstances. Had she lost her mind? She almost laughed out loud. What kind of question was that? Of course she had lost her mind!

“But ask yourself this,” he went on as the desperate debate continued inside her.

She didn’t want to hear anything he had to say. His words and the sound of his voice confused her. She tried to shake him from her head, tried to quiet the questions and doubts spinning out of control in her brain, but he just kept talking.

“Why did I bring you with me?”

The sirens were closer now. Just a few yards through those trees. She stared into the darkness, torn between running and facing his question.

“You have no negotiation value. You’ll only slow me down.”

Maggie closed her eyes and fought back the tears burning there.

“She has never gotten this close.”

Turning slowly to prevent the churning emotions from throwing her off balance, Maggie confronted him. “You want me to believe that you’re protecting me?” The notion was completely ridiculous. She wouldn’t even be here if not for him and his secrets that a master cryptographer couldn’t hope to decode. He had barged into her life, thrown out a baited hook and she had swallowed it without once stepping back and considering the consequences. He had consumed her existence, and his presence had put her in danger. How dare he blame their current dilemma on her! “That you’re doing me a favor?”

“We’re running out of time, Maggie.”

She glanced back in the direction they’d come. Part of her wanted to run… Sweet Jesus, why was she hesitating even for a second?

“I don’t want you to die because of me.”

Maggie tried to drag in a breath, but the new emotion crowded into her chest wouldn’t allow the air to reach its destination. Somehow his words struck a chord so deep she could not deny the note of sincerity in his voice. How could he possess such power over her?

Cautiously closing the distance between them, Maggie made her decision. She would do what she had to do in order to ensure her child’s survival. Nothing else mattered. Her shoulders reared back and her chin lifted as the air sharply filled her chest. “I’ll go along with this for now, but as soon as it’s safe I never want to see you again. Is that clear?”

“Fair enough,” he agreed.

Slowly, he reached out and took her hand, his strong, warm fingers closing around her cold, trembling ones.

For a fleeting moment they stood as still as stone. Then they ran.

4:20 a.m.

SLADE HAD PUT AS MUCH distance as possible between them and the motel, but Maggie was wearing down. She wouldn’t hold out much longer. The police would call in reinforcements in the form of a search team, if they hadn’t already. The motel clerk wouldn’t be able to provide their names since they hadn’t officially registered, but he could provide descriptions. Each passing second could mean the difference between escape and capture. And capture equated to certain death.

Yet, the police were the least of his concerns. She wouldn’t back off simply because her two hired guns had failed. Her reinforcements would be close behind the authorities. Even if the police took Maggie into protective custody, they would never be able to protect her from the Dragon if she decided she wanted to hurt Maggie just to get to him.

No one could…except Slade, and only if he didn’t allow another stupid mistake. He understood this creature who was his mother. Others thought they knew her, but they did not. She was ruthless. Human life meant nothing to her. Nothing was more sacred than the mission.

Maggie stumbled, and Slade caught her before she hit the ground.

“I have to stop a minute.” Breathless, she leaned against the nearest tree and wrapped her arms around herself. The wind was cold. Moving had kept them fairly warm so far.

They needed daylight.

Or some better luck.

“Only for a minute.” Slade checked his cell to narrow down their position relative to the interstate. The motel hadn’t been that far from the highway, but their trek through the woods had, out of necessity, taken them in a different direction. If they could reach the on-ramp before the police issued an APB, they might be able to catch a ride with a passing trucker. Every mile they put between them and Chicago increased their chances of survival.

Slade confirmed the direction they needed to take. “We gotta move.” He held out his hand. After a brief hesitation she placed hers there.

Keeping her so close would make what he had to do that much more difficult, but, for now, he had no alternative. Her survival was his responsibility.

The woods were thick, the canopy above scarcely parting here and there to allow a sliver of moonlight. The underbrush made moving forward difficult. Slade cut the path, pushing through the dense growth, allowing Maggie to have an easier go. Chances were she would see this as a thoughtful act when, in fact, it was nothing more than a way to ensure efficiency. If she slowed down or stopped, he would have to, as well.

Half an hour later the woods started to thin. They were close to the highway. Slade moved faster, anticipation stinging through his veins.

“Wait.” Maggie tugged against his hold.

“We can’t stop.” He started forward once more, but Maggie didn’t budge.

“Go on without me. The police will find me and I’ll swear I don’t know which way you went.”

Explaining why that wouldn’t work would be complicated. They had to keep moving.

Rather than argue, he released her hand and swept her off her feet. With her in his arms, he trudged forward.

“You can’t carry me,” she argued. She squirmed against his chest.

The feel of her hip grinding into his chest had tension firing in his muscles. “Stop fidgeting and this will go a lot more smoothly.” He tuned out the feel of her body. Just as swiftly he banished the images of all those nights they’d spent together in her bed.

Five minutes more and endless gritting of teeth to keep the haunting images at bay and they reached the fence that separated the tree line from the expanse of state-owned right-of-way that ran along the side of the road.

He settled Maggie onto her feet and surveyed the five-foot chain-link wall that stood between them and their destination. Moonlight sifted through the darkness, pooling around their position. The low hum of traffic on the interstate offered the only indication the whole world wasn’t asleep.

She wouldn’t be asleep. Slade’s jaw tightened. She was out there somewhere assessing the feedback and directing every minor reaction as meticulously as a conductor leading an orchestra.

“I’ll climb over.” Slade pushed aside what he could not control and focused on what he could. He turned to Maggie and pointed to the diamond shapes the metal fencing formed. “Use the pattern as finger-and toe-holds. Once you’re up and over, I’ll help you down.”

She drew in a shaky breath. “All right.”

Slade scanned the highway once more, then scaled the fence. He waited on the other side as Maggie slowly climbed the same path. It wasn’t that high, but she was a lot shorter than he was, so he understood her trepidation.

When both legs were on his side of the fence, he placed his hands on either side of her waist. “Let go. I’ve got you.”

There was a hesitation before she followed his instructions. His hands around her waist, he lowered her feet to the ground and she swayed into his chest. He steadied her.

“Thanks.” She squared her shoulders and stepped away from him. “What now?”

Slade surveyed the dark highway. “We head toward the on-ramp and flag down a ride.” And watch for the cops, he didn’t add. If they were lucky, an APB hadn’t been issued yet and there wouldn’t be extra patrols.

“Okay.”

To his surprise she began walking before he did.

The motel was only a few miles behind them. The crisscross route they had taken had brought them back around to where they needed to be. He’d kept to the woods until they were near the on-ramp. His instincts nudged him with the urge to run, but he resisted. Maggie couldn’t run anymore. They stayed close to the fence, trudging through the knee-deep weeds.

“If you spot any headlights, get down,” Slade warned.

“Will the police be looking for us?”

It sounded like hope in her tone. “Yep.”

“We can’t explain what happened and get their help?”

That would seem like the logical thing to do if he were living in a fantasy world. “It’s not the police we need to be afraid of.”

She hurried a little faster. “If we have nothing to fear from them, why can’t they help us?”

“The police can’t protect us, Maggie.”

She stopped. “I need you to explain that part.”

Slade admitted defeat on the issue and turned around. “Fine. It’s not like we’re in a hurry or anything.” If he hadn’t blown a few critical circuits the last couple of years, he would have pulled his weapon and this discussion would have ended already. But, stupidly, he’d allowed complacency to dull his instincts.

“First,” he said more loudly and with far more drama than he’d intended, “if I’m not charged with kidnapping and murder, and we’re put in so-called protective custody, she will have us eliminated. No one can protect us from her. Do you get that? No one.” He didn’t wait around for her response.

“How can anyone be that powerful? Who is this woman?” Maggie hurried to catch up to him.

Light flickered.

“Down.” Slade crouched, tugging Maggie with him.

The headlights grew closer. Not a car. A truck. A big one.

“Go to the side of the road and wave. Maybe the driver will stop. You get the ride and I’ll catch up.”

Maggie searched his face a moment, then shot to her feet and rushed forward, quickly wading from the knee-deep grass to the recently mowed roadside. She waved her arms, moving closer to the pavement.

There was the possibility that if the driver stopped she could use the opportunity to escape. It was a risk he had to take. Any driver was far more likely to stop for a woman alone.

The truck’s air brakes whined as it slowed. As soon as the tractor-trailer came to a complete stop, Maggie rushed to the passenger-side door. She stepped up onto the running board and the window powered down.

Slade braced to run.

Her usually calm voice sounded a little high-pitched. He couldn’t make out what she was saying. She did a lot of gesturing.

“Hurry, Maggie,” he muttered to himself.

She reached for the door handle. He moved forward, staying low enough to use the landscape as cover.

As he neared, he heard Maggie saying, “I really appreciate this. I didn’t know how much farther I could make it.”

Slade dashed across the final expanse of shorter grass and lunged up onto the running board just as Maggie settled into the seat. He had his weapon in his hand before the driver could grab the one stored under his seat.

“We don’t want any trouble,” Slade advised. “We just need a ride.”

The driver glared at him. “What’s the gun for, then?”

“Same thing as the one under your seat.”

“Can we just go?” Maggie pleaded. “We really do need a ride. That’s all.”

Slade knew those shimmering green eyes of hers almost as well as he knew his own. He didn’t have to see her face as she appealed to the driver; he was well aware just how persuasive those jewel beauties could be. The driver didn’t stand a chance.

The man jerked his head toward Slade. “If he puts his gun away, I’ll take you as far as St. Louis.”

Maggie turned to Slade. He nodded and tucked the weapon into his waistband.

“Let’s go,” the driver said, turning his attention to the road. “I’ve got a deadline.”

Maggie scooted over, making room for Slade. He slid in next to her and closed the door. The driver let out on the clutch and the big rig roared forward.

Slade monitored the side mirror as they climbed the on-ramp to the interstate. Now all he had to worry about were roadblocks.

“You’re the couple the cops are looking for,” the man suggested.

Maggie turned to Slade, her eyes wide, her face pale.

“Unfortunately,” Slade admitted. Denying the accusation would be a waste of energy.

“Those men tried to kill us,” Maggie offered. “They just started shooting.” Her words warbled. “We tried to run away, but they came after us.”

The driver sent a sideways look at Slade. His sympathies lay solely with Maggie. “I guess you were in too big a hurry to explain things to the police.”

Slade put one arm around Maggie’s shoulders and rested his other hand at his waist. The truck was gaining speed, which indicated the driver had no plans to try to force them out of the truck. Still, he was making no bones about his suspicions.

“Something like that.” Slade exchanged another look with the guy. “Is that going to be a problem?”

The driver shook his head. “As long as there’s no trickle-down effect, I got no issue with it.”

When the driver had turned his full attention to the road, Slade relaxed.

His contact was compromised, but St. Louis was a big city. He would figure out a new route to his destination.

He wasn’t bested yet.

Chapter Five

St. Louis, 10:00 a.m.

Maggie roused from a fretful sleep. Where was she? Memories flooded her lethargic brain. Cognizance rocketed into full focus as the details from the passing landscape assimilated in her brain. Streets. Buildings. The beastly sound of the big truck. They’d reached the city. She blinked a couple times and tried to spot something familiar. This had to be St. Louis. Where were they going from here? In reality, she was terrified of what came next. Worry for her baby twisted painfully in her stomach. She ordered herself to try to stay calm. All these crazy emotions couldn’t be good for the tiny life just beginning inside her.

She’d finally drifted off before daylight this morning. Her body ached. Her neck was stiff. Tension rippled through her. She’d leaned her head against Slade’s shoulder and his arm was around her. As if this recognition had signaled all her senses, she became aware of his scent, the feel of his strong arm, the heat of his body. Every part of her that made her woman wanted to stay right there. To feel safe and protected.

But she was not safe. Maggie straightened, drew away from him as much as she dared without alerting the driver to the tension. “Are we—” she cleared her throat “—in St. Louis?”

“You got it, Red,” the driver announced.

His comment helped to ease the renewed apprehension ramping up. Maggie couldn’t begin to count the times she’d been called Red. She’d hated it in school, but, as an adult, she’d finally gotten over it and embraced the overture for what it was—more often friendliness than rudeness.

The driver’s name was Pete. Once he’d gotten started talking this morning, he’d poured out his life story. Maggie had fallen asleep at the part where he and his fourth wife had divorced. The man had kids in three states.

As wild as that all sounded, it carried a refreshing normalcy about it.

“I need to fuel up,” Pete said as he changed lanes and slowed for the next exit.

Not a hundred yards from the exit ramp, Pete made a right into the parking lot of a massive fuel station. In addition to selling fuel, the truck stop offered a restaurant and showers.

Who knew?

Pete parked the truck in the sprawling lot alongside dozens of other similar rigs. He shut down the engine, heralding a stark quiet that rang in her ears. “I think I might just fuel up myself first. You folks interested in breakfast?”

Slade thrust his hand at the man. “We appreciate the ride, Pete, but we’ll keep moving. You understand, I’m sure, our need to cover more ground.”

Pete nodded. “Got it. Keep your heads down.” He flashed a smile for Maggie. “Take care of your wife. She must love you a lot to go through all this and stick by your side.”

“She’s one of a kind,” Slade agreed before climbing out of the big cab.

“Thanks, Pete.” Maggie returned his smile. She wanted to say more, but the right words escaped her. Instead, she climbed out of the massive truck and turned to the man who had flipped her world upside down.

Slade placed his hand at her elbow and urged her forward. Maggie hated to say anything, but she really needed to use the ladies’ room, and her stomach was out of sorts. Several gas stations and no shortage of restaurants, mostly fast food, lined the street. Surely they could make a quick dash into one of them. The smell of food wafting in the air should have been appealing, but the thick odors were anything but this morning.

“Can we get coffee?” She and Slade had been sleeping together for nearly two years. It was foolish of her to be embarrassed about mentioning her personal needs to him, but she was, nonetheless.

“As soon as we’re out of eyesight from our friend Pete we’ll have breakfast and a break.”

Maggie wanted to ask him what came next, but she decided to wait until she had relieved herself and gotten some food into her stomach—if she could manage the latter. She didn’t feel well. Prompting additional stress wouldn’t be smart right now, she reminded herself. Her hand went instinctively to her belly.

Guilt that she wasn’t adequately protecting her child roiled inside her. She wasn’t sure how far along she was. This month’s skipped cycle would indicate about six or seven weeks. But last month’s had been off, almost nonexistent. If she had actually missed two cycles, she would be ten or eleven weeks along. If she survived this scene right out of an action flick, she had only about seven months to go.

The same old questions logjammed in her brain. How had this happened? Did she need to be concerned that she’d taken her pills for some amount of time after conception? She needed to set up a doctor’s appointment as soon as possible. There were so many steps that needed to be taken. Assuming she survived this.

She stole a glance at the man beside her. What in the world was she going to do?

He chose a familiar chain restaurant for breakfast. As they entered, the smells of pancakes, eggs and bacon made her stomach rumble, this time in anticipation. Maybe food was all she needed to settle that unpleasant feeling plaguing her. The hostess seated them and promised that a waitress would be with them soon. Maggie excused herself and hurried to the ladies’ room.

One look in the mirror and she gasped. Slade had insisted on leaving her purse in her car, so she had nothing to work with. For now, she relieved herself, washed her hands and face, and tried to do something with her hair. Those Irish locks she’d inherited from her great-grandmother were as stubborn as all get-out. She did the best she could, then tidied her clothes.

She was ready. She stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her face was even paler than usual. She licked her lips and took a deep breath.

“What’re you doing?” Why didn’t she just walk out of here? There were too many people around for him to draw his weapon. He wouldn’t want that kind of attention.

Anticipation stirred in her chest. Once she’d explained what happened to the police, she could go home. Take care of the coffee shop. See the doctor. Get on with her life.

The police can’t protect us, Maggie. What if he was right? What if this crazy woman tried to use Maggie to lure Slade into some sort of trap? Or killed her?

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