Hot Pursuit (29 page)

“Holy crap.” Her voice was soft at first,
then louder. “Holy crap!”

Matt whipped his gaze back to the road and
reeled when his head turned faster than his eyes could focus, then
steeled himself against the stab of a headache.

“What is it?” He was subtly aware she’d
backed off the gas.

“The bridge is out.”

Fuck
. The thing he couldn’t remember.
The fact that this small country bridge over an insignificant creek
was often washed out. That there’d been a thunderstorm and flash
flooding only last week, according to Chris. That it was a good bet
the bridge was out.

He could jump it. If he was driving, he could
do it. Wouldn’t be the first time he’d had to do something like
this.

But he wasn’t driving. And he didn’t think he
could talk her through it. It wasn’t safe, and it wasn’t something
to attempt for the first time. They could end up in the creek,
sitting ducks for the guy behind them. The impact would stun them,
stun him even worse, and he didn’t think he needed a new concussion
on top of another one.

“Don’t slack off,” he said automatically when
the car slowed even more.

“What the hell do you expect me to do? Jump
it?”

“No.” His mushy brain drew up every ounce of
strength he had and channeled it into thought. “We’re going to
turn, Evie. A one-eighty. You with me?”

“Tell me what to do.”

“You’ve done power slides, right?” Every kid
in the parish had locked up the brakes and slid to a sideways stop
on gravel roads. It was considered fun when he was growing up.

“Not since high school.”

“It works similar, okay.” A pain stabbed him
behind the right eye. “But we’re not going to use the emergency
brake. Instead, when I tell you, I want you to brake enough to
shift down to second and turn the wheel hard left. It’s important
to shift and turn at the same time. No brake at that point,
okay?”

“Matt—”

“You can do it, Evie. The car will slide
around until we’re going the opposite direction. Don’t hit the
brake, or we’ll stop somewhere short of the turn. We’ll lose
valuable time trying to get going again. Soon as we stop, shift
down and hammer it.”

“Okay.”

“First, we gotta let him catch up a bit. But
don’t let him get too close to the rear bumper. He’ll try to pit
you.”

“Pit?”

“He’ll tap the bumper and send you out of
control. Don’t let it happen.”

Her chin dipped down in a firm nod. “Got
it.”

Matt focused on the road, on the signs
indicating the bridge was out. Five hundred feet to go. He glanced
around and saw the car behind them gaining. He watched the road
ahead, making the calculations, not sure if his brain was
functioning right or if he was off. But he didn’t have the luxury
of double-checking himself.

He was a member of HOT for God’s sake. He’d
had enough training he could make this turn with his eyes closed.
Now he just had to trust that he could count it off right for
Evie.

Another glance behind them revealed a truck,
not a car. Two people inside, it looked like, except the headlights
were high enough as they got closer that the beam shot into his
eyes, intensifying the pain in his head so that he wasn’t really
sure what he’d seen.

“Ten, nine, eight,” he said, counting it out,
giving her warning. “Brake and shift,” he said, finishing the
count. She hit it hard, the engine roaring with the sudden change.
“Turn it now!”

The back end of the car swung hard right,
pivoting beneath them even as the entire car slid through the turn.
Tires squealed against asphalt, rubber smoking through the vents
and grabbing him by the throat. His head felt like cotton candy,
fluffy and ungrounded, and he was grateful for the belt wedging him
into the seat as the bile rose in his throat.

The BMW snapped to a stop as the taillights
of the truck flew past the driver’s side.

He meant to tell her to go, but he couldn’t
get the words out. He’d used every bit of energy he had dredging up
the last few minutes of conversation from his psyche. He could only
stare at her face, seemingly paler in the dash lights. She lifted a
shaking hand and choked out something that sounded like
holy
shit
. And then she was springing into action, her hand falling
to the gearshift as the wheels squealed and the car sprang
forward.

“I think they went into the ditch,” she
finally said, shoving the hair from her face with a hand that still
shook. “But I don’t know.”

“Marina.” He forced the word out, past the
thickness settling once more in his head.

“What about the police? Maybe we should get
them involved now. Maybe they have Sarah in that truck and we can
get her back if they’re in the ditch—”

“Marina. Go.”

He thought for sure she was about to argue,
and he dreaded it since he couldn’t imagine holding out against the
verbal onslaught that would very persuasively convince him they
needed to go to the police or the hospital. He’d find himself
saying yes even though he knew he shouldn’t agree. Sarah’s life—and
Evie’s—depended on him figuring this out, and he couldn’t do that
if he was explaining to Chief Laurent how he happened to be near
the house when it exploded. Because that’s all the cops would be
interested in right now, guaran-damn-tee it.

Evie gave him a look that tore his heart from
his chest and turned him inside out at the same time. It was a look
of anger, concern, and more tenderness than he’d ever remembered
seeing in any one person in his life. It struck him at that moment
how very like him she was in some ways. And how very much he liked
that about her.

“I’m trusting you,” she said. “Don’t make me
regret it.”

THE ADRENALINE RUSH WAS SEEPING away, leaving
Evie tired, shaky, and yet oddly awake at the same time. Matt
didn’t say anything more as she navigated the car across town. She
didn’t want to go to the marina. It seemed contrary to all common
sense, yet Matt had talked her through the kind of daredevil
driving that only an hour ago she’d have sworn she couldn’t do
without a whole lot of practice and nerves of steel. For that
alone, she’d give him the benefit of the doubt.

But only for so long.

She kept a wary check on the rearview mirror,
but no headlights seemed to be following. There was a car here and
there, but nothing consistent, and nothing gaining fast. She still
couldn’t believe what had happened. One minute she was waiting,
jumpy as a cat, and the next there was an explosion. She hadn’t
even thought twice about what to do. She’d gunned the car up the
drive, panicked that Matt was in the middle of the blast. When she
saw the house with one side of it blown away, her insides melted.
She hadn’t thought Matt would answer her, but she’d gotten out of
the car and called for him anyway.

When he’d spoken, she’d never been so
relieved in her life. She glanced over at him, her heart twisting
at the sight of his head lying back against the seat, his eyes
closed, his brows drawn low in pain. She’d give him time to
explain, but if she didn’t like the plan, she comforted herself
with the idea she could summon an ambulance with a quick phone
call.

The marina entrance was up ahead on the
right. She took the turn and slowly drove through the lot, winding
back toward the dock where the Girards kept their boat. She drove
past a row of whitewashed buildings. The lake stretched out dark as
spilled paint to the right before another set of buildings sprang
up to block the view.

“Inside there.” Matt pointed to a low
building with a large double door that faced the road.

“I remember.” She pulled the car in front of
the white clapboard structure, the headlights focusing on a rusted
chain stretching from one handle to the other. A shiny padlock
dangled in the middle of the entrance. “It’s locked.”

The passenger door slipped open. She turned
as Matt stuck a leg out. Gravel crunched beneath his boot. He
folded back against the seat like a popped balloon.

“Matt—”

“I’m fine.”

“I don’t think—”

He pulled himself from the car, surprisingly
agile compared to a moment ago, and her speech died in her throat.
He took something from the knife case on his belt and bent down to
fiddle with the lock. A minute later, it popped free. Then he threw
the doors wide and Evie drove inside.

She brought the car to a halt and let out a
breath before turning off the engine and getting out to join Matt.
He’d closed the entry behind them and was hunkered down in front of
a long table that sat against one wall. Evie stumbled forward,
calling herself ten kinds of a fool for listening to him in the
first place. She should have taken him to the hospital, no matter
what he said.

When she would have dropped to her knees and
wrapped her arms around him, she ground to a heart-pounding halt.
Matt glanced at her over his shoulder. He had one long arm
stretched beneath the table. Slowly, he ran his hand back and forth
beneath the surface.

And then he stopped and smiled. “Found
it.”

“Found what?”

He levered himself upward. In his left hand
was a key.

“I put this here when I was sixteen. Figured
the old man would have found it by now.”

“You hid a key to your dad’s boat?” She felt
slightly hurt that she hadn’t known that, but by the time he was
sixteen, they hadn’t been hanging out together anymore. He’d had a
jealous girlfriend and they’d grown apart.

He gave her a grin. “Party boy,
remember?”

“So we’re hiding on the boat for a while?”
Because she really didn’t want to consider the alternative—that he
intended to take the Girard yacht out into the pitch-dark
night.

“We’re going out.”

Evie swallowed a bubble of panic. After
everything else, she couldn’t just jump on his daddy’s yacht and
sail off into the lake like her childhood home hadn’t recently
exploded. What the hell were they doing here? They should be at the
hospital making sure Matt wasn’t injured worse than he thought.

“Come on.” He turned away from her and headed
toward a door at the back of the garage.

“I’m not comfortable with this, Matt.”

He threw a look over his shoulder.

Evie’s resolve strengthened. “I’ve pretty
much done everything so far without complaint, but I want to know
what you think we’re going to accomplish out there.”

He turned around, hands on hips. “Without
complaint?”

“Without
much
complaint,” she amended,
ignoring his smirk. She gestured toward the water, praying he
didn’t read anything more into it than a determination to know what
was going on. And her concern really
was
about the best
choice for the situation and not her fear of being on the
water.

“Why is this better than going to the police
with all we know? Or to the hospital? My God, Matt, someone blew up
my mother’s house! What more can we do? I’m scared to death for
Sarah, and I know they told us not to contact the police, but no
one’s called us back and someone just tried to kill us.”

“Listen.” He came to stand in front of her.
She had to tilt her head up to look at him and realized for the
first time that soot darkened his cheekbones and forehead. That his
pupils were dilated. “We can’t stop now.”

Her heart ached with the need to touch him,
to draw him to her and hold him until the world faded away. He
touched her cheek, and she turned into his hand, feeling his
fingers skim along her jawbone and behind her ear. Sensation
streaked to her fingertips, then down into her toes. Desire tugged
at her.

“You’re hurt,” she said softly.

“It’s a concussion. A mild one. This isn’t my
first time.” He let out a sigh when she gave in to the urge to
touch him in return. “Evie, I don’t trust anyone right now. And I
don’t know what’s going on or how many of them there are, so I want
us out on that lake, maybe even hidden in the bayou. I want time to
take some Tylenol, rest, and think. I also want to talk to Kev. If
Brianna calls you, we’ll decide what’s next. But for now, this is
best. Trust me.”

Unshed tears clogged her throat. She hated
that he was hurting. Hated that he was probably right. “This is all
so new to me, Matt. I’m a chef, not a secret agent. I don’t want to
go out there and have something happen to you because I should have
taken you to the hospital instead of blindly following orders.”

He dipped his lips to hers, a brief caress
that sent a shiver through her. “Trust me. All I need is Tylenol.
Unless you’ve got some in your pocket,
Candyland
has a whole
medicine chest full. And you have yet to blindly follow orders,
believe me.”

Evie clutched him. “Promise that if you feel
worse, you’ll tell me. That you’ll agree to come back in and go to
the doctor.”

“I don’t have a death wish. I promise we’ll
come back if I don’t feel better.”

She swallowed. “Let’s go then.”

God, he was about to take her out on the
lake. In the dark. But at least it’d be on board a thirty-six-foot
Carver and not in a tiny pirogue. She could handle that.

Right
.

No, dammit, she
would
handle it. She’d
just spun an über-expensive sports car into a one-eighty at sixty
miles an hour, so what was a little night boating compared to that?
She’d been fine with boats until she and Julie had turned theirs
over and nearly drowned. This boat was
not
going to turn
over.

“I hope you don’t expect me to drive,” she
grumbled to his back. The thought of ramming a
several-hundred-thousand-dollar yacht—give or take a few bucks—into
a cypress tree somewhere was just a little too much to
contemplate.

“I can manage.” He stopped and unlocked a
door that spilled them onto the dock. A few steps away, the
gleaming white Carver rocked gently against the pylons.