Hot Pursuit (33 page)

Something was holding her, shaking her. The blood was thick, choking, smoke everywhere. She was falling, falling—

“Taylor, wake up. You're safe.”

It was too cold, too quiet. Something was on the floor in front of her. A body that didn't move. Dark, unfocused eyes that would never see again.

Taylor flung out her arms, fighting the darkness. When her hand struck something, she opened her eyes on a sob to find Jack's arms wrapped around her. His seat belt was gone and she was curled against his chest, fighting hard, her back pressed against the wheel.

Her face was cold, slick with tears.

She took a shuddering breath. “I—was dreaming. Everything smelled like death.” She pressed her face against his chest and inhaled the unforgettable scent of sweat and wind, soap and man. “I couldn't get away, Jack. I tried but they kept coming.”

He pressed his lips to her hair. “Let it go, Taylor. You can't help her by replaying what happened, and you can't rewrite the lines so they come out the way you want.”

Had she been doing that? Trying by sheer force of will to stop the bullets and edit away that terrible instant of spraying blood?

She made a shaky sound, pressing her cheek against the soft hair at his chest. With a sigh, she twined her arms around his neck.

The steering wheel cut into her back, and she shifted to get comfortable. As she did, her thighs pressed against his. Taylor looked up slowly. “Jack?”

“What?” His voice was husky.

Suddenly her need was immense. She wanted to hold and be held. “Do you have a pistol?”

“One in the glove compartment. One in my boot.” His eyes were very dark.

She smiled faintly. “So that isn't a gun I'm feeling.”

His eyes narrowed. “Bad timing.”

“Oh, I don't know.” Taylor slid forward, savoring the feel of him, hot and hard, thrusting against her.

He cursed as she slanted a kiss over his hard mouth, coaxing his lips open with her tongue. She was hot, but she wanted to be much hotter, and this SEAL was just the one to make it happen.

His hands tightened, gripping her arms. “Taylor, we've got a lot of driving ahead of us. It's not safe to stop here.”

She bit down just hard enough to make him curse. His hands fell, cupping her hips and pulling her against him so that she felt the full outline of an amazing erection. This time he did the taking, as he caught her mouth beneath his.

When he finally pulled away, Jack's eyes held something that was one small step removed from savagery. “We'll continue this later, understand? But we'll be in a double bed with a locked door and we won't be wearing so
damned
many clothes.” He deposited her back into her seat. “Buckle up,” he added grimly. “I plan to skirt the edge of every speed limit between here and Arizona.”

Early afternoon.
Somewhere at the edge of the Sonoran Desert.

Taylor stifled a yawn.

They'd been back and forth over every second of her few contacts with Rains and every conversation with Candace, but they'd come up with nothing new. If Rains had put any object into her apartment, it had to be invisible. The only things Candace had given her was the set of climbing photos and a dog-eared copy of
People
magazine that was two months out of date. After that, Taylor gave up.

To the south, clouds rose like rival cities in an azure sky that went on forever. The light was different here, the sense of space unnerving. On every side she saw sharp peaks and a vast, rolling desert where nothing seemed to move.

“Are we there yet?”

Jack's mouth flashed in a faint grin. “Almost.”

“Very funny.” She watched light play over the mountains. “We don't seem to be making any progress.”

“With this kind of distances you can push all you want, but things happen in their own time.” He watched a hawk cut through the clear, clean air. “This isn't exactly a vacation for us, Mrs. Stone.”

Taylor's brow rose. “Does this mean the honeymoon's off, Mr. Stone?”

“Ask me that in about four hours,” Jack growled.

That
sounded promising. Taylor sat back, enjoying the thought of Jack beside her, naked in a hot tub. Suddenly she shot upright. “Did you see
that
?”

“What?”

“Those dark things over by that spiky tree.”

“They're called mesquite trees.”

“Whatever.” Taylor pointed to the crest of a sage-covered hill. “See, there they go again.”

“The dark things are called coyotes,” Jack said dryly.

“No kidding.” Taylor leaned out the window, letting the warm air ruffle her hair. “There must be seven or eight of them.” The small, wiry animals trotted along the rim of a wash not fifty feet away.

“They're social. Live and die as a family unit. Mate for life, too.”

Taylor looked back at him, one brow rising. “How did you know that?”

“Honey, I'm a SEAL, not a hermit. Even we SEALs have been known to read a book on occasion,” he said dryly.

“That's not what I meant, Jack.”

“Close enough.”

Taylor opened her mouth, then closed it again. “I think I deserved that.”

“Probably.” Jack ran a finger across her lower lip. “But I'm not keeping score. And I would have told you sooner about my background if the choice had been mine.”

Taylor's answer was cut off by the wail of a siren. She was startled to see lights flashing as a police car bore up on their left. “How fast were you going?”

“Only about five miles over the speed limit.”

Taylor stared back at the Blazer. “You think he's one of
them
?”

“Right now, I'm trusting no one.” Jack reached into the glove compartment and set his Beretta on the floor between his feet, positioning it just out of sight. “If something goes wrong, I want you to get behind the wheel and drive like a bat out of hell. Almost is just over that rise, six miles straight east. Even with the Blazer on your tail, you should make it.”

“But—”

“No questions,” he growled. “Promise me you'll do it.”

After a moment Taylor nodded.

“Good. Now would be a good time to put on your best smile. Praying might not be a bad idea, either. And be ready to get behind the wheel.”

Nothing moved in the vast desert landscape as Jack cruised to a slow halt and the Blazer pulled around, blocking them from the front.

Chapter Thirty-six

Dust blew across the road in angry little eddies.

Neither Taylor nor Jack moved. A man in a tan uniform stepped out of the Blazer, and as he ambled toward their car, his eyes scanned back and forth. Slow moving or not, Taylor sensed he was missing nothing.

“I don't like how this feels,” she whispered.

“That makes two of us.”

The sheriff stopped outside Jack's window and bent his head, staring inside. “Afternoon, folks.”

Taylor was mesmerized. The man in the warm sunshine was the spitting image of Mel Gibson, but somehow that didn't make her feel better.

“Afternoon, officer.” Jack's feet were together, his expression calm. “Hope I wasn't speeding back there.”

“Five miles over, according to my radar. Would you step out of the car, please?”

A muscle moved at Jack's jaw. “Any reason for a problem?”

The man in the uniform didn't move. “No reason at all. Are you two headed somewhere in the area?”

“My wife and I are just passing through.”

“Don't suppose you're headed to a place called Almost, are you?”

There was a tiny pause. Then Jack shook his head. “Never heard of it.”

“A lot of people haven't.” The officer took another long look at Taylor and adjusted his sunglasses. “That means you probably haven't heard of a fellow called Teague.”

“Should I have?” Jack said pleasantly.

“Once you've met Izzy, you don't forget him” came the equally pleasant answer.

“Izzy? Odd sort of name.”

The craggy face settled into a smile. “If you want to tell him that to his face, you're a better man than I am.” The smile grew. “Jack Broussard, I take it?”

Jack released a tense breath. “You must be T.J. McCall.”

“That would be me.” The sheriff of Almost, Arizona, pushed back his brown Stetson and surveyed the two. “And you would be Mr. and Mrs. Stone?”

“If anyone asks,” Jack said tightly. “Mind if I reach beneath my seat?”

“No problem. Just don't go firing that Beretta you were trying so hard to hide. Have to watch the angle of the sun this time of day, because metal tends to catch the light.”

Jack's eyes narrowed. “I'll remember that.”

The sheriff slipped off his mirrored sunglasses. “I expect you will.” He smiled at Taylor. “I'll give you two an escort into town. Your accommodations are ready and waiting. After that long drive, you'll probably want to shower and eat.”

There in the desert stillness with sunlight playing over her shoulders, Taylor felt the tension slip out of her body. “He's the exhausted one. The big fool drove all the way and wouldn't let me help, even if he's hurting.”

“Men have a way of doing that, Ms.—Mrs. Stone.” T.J. McCall ran his tongue across his teeth. “My Tess would be spitting mad at me, too, truth be told. She can't wait to meet you, by the way. She's a real big fan.” He rocked back on his heels. “So am I. Finished
The Forever Code
in one night.”

Taylor flushed beneath those keen blue eyes. “I'm glad to hear it. We appreciate all your help.”

“No need for thanks. I owed Izzy a favor. A lot of people owe Izzy favors.” He shook his head. “Only problem is my wife. It took a lot of arguing to talk her out of throwing a county-wide party for you two, and her parties are pretty special.” His voice took on a tinge of pride. “No one ever forgets a bash at Rancho Encantador.” He pointed along the brown ridge of hills to a high valley circled by mountains. “You can see the roof from here.”

Taylor couldn't see much more than desert, mountains, and a hint of pink adobe walls. “It looks wonderful.”

“On the big side, but Tess and I plan to fill it with kids. Already have two and another on the way. I wanted to stop at five, but she says nothing doing. Don't worry about privacy, because your casita is up the hill behind the main house. Take the dirt road north at the burned-out mesquite tree. I'll be right behind you.”

As he spoke, an unearthly yowling filled the air.

Taylor blinked. “What on earth was
that
?”

“Just the song dogs talking. Funny, they usually don't get social this time of day.”

Taylor looked up at the sheriff in confusion. “Song dogs?”

“Coyotes. Lots of them up here in the high desert.”

The noise grew closer, an unsettling confusion of sound that made goose bumps rise on Taylor's skin. Without warning, half a dozen dark shapes flashed beneath the palo verde tree, leaving tracks across the yellow blossoms that covered the ground like snow.

T.J. McCall pushed back his hat, frowning. “I'll have to tell Miguel there was a pack up here. They don't usually come down this far to the main highway.”

“Miguel?” Jack's eyes narrowed. “Is he one of your deputies?”

“No, Miguel's just a friend, but you couldn't have a better man watching your back.”

“You sure you trust him?”

The sheriff crossed his arms. “With my firstborn child. With my secondborn, too, come to think of it. He's taken care of them many times. Relax, Navy. You're in good hands here.”

“Don't underestimate these people, sheriff. We walked into a firefight when we left San Jose. At least one government agent was killed, and people will be trying to track us. In addition, there's a leak somewhere inside the government team. Just so you know what you're getting into,” Jack added grimly.

“Izzy's already filled me in on the situation. You can rest assured we'll ride a tight herd on things here in Almost. Only my wife and Miguel know you're here, and no strangers can move anywhere in the high country without Miguel noticing.”

Jack glanced at the steep mountains that ran in dark waves toward the horizon. “How can one man keep track of all this? There must be thousands of miles of open country out there.”

“Most of it's too rough for anything but mountain lions and coyotes. As far as the rest, there's no better tracker than Miguel.” The sheriff scratched his jaw. “Thing is, you probably won't believe what he can do. A lot of things about this beautiful country turn out to be different from what you expect.”

On that obscure utterance, he headed back to his Blazer.

 

Casita
—or little house—was definitely the wrong word for the enchanting adobe cottage nestled in the foothills above the sprawling McCall ranch. Bloodred bougainvilleas clambered over pink walls that gleamed in the afternoon sunlight as the sheriff escorted them along a flower-lined walk to the main house. Taylor couldn't take her eyes off the handmade tile and split beams, with stained-glass windows that opened to the desert.

She wanted to meet their hostess, but she sensed that Jack was dead on his feet, even though the man would never admit it.

“I expect you two want to wash up and rest, so I'll keep the welcomes brief. Unfortunately, my three girls will never forgive me if they don't get to say hello.” As the sheriff opened the wooden door into the main courtyard, giggles spilled from behind a huge Mexican sage covered with purple flowers.

“Katie, you and Becca come meet our guests.” When the sheriff's voice boomed through the courtyard, the thick branches parted, and two small forms shot over the ground. They both had neat braids, but their cheeks were covered with dirt, and neither could have been happier as they flung themselves into their father's strong arms. He caught them both and swung them wide, sunlight brushing two pairs of small red high-top sneakers.

“No more harum-scarum. We've got guests, remember. Say hello to Mr. and Mrs. Stone,” he said gruffly.

The taller one fairly danced over the ground to shake hands with Taylor, then Jack, but her little sister held back, hugging her father's leg.

“C'mon, Becca,” her sister trilled. “They're nice, can't you see? You just have to shake their hands, not
kiss
them or anything.”

Becca's face filled with color. She glanced up at her father, took in his reassuring nod, then marched warily toward the new guests. She gave each hand a stiff shake and ran to the tall woman opening the French doors from the kitchen.

Sunlight played over Tess McCall's red-gold hair, and amusement touched her eyes as she squeezed her daughter's hand. Taylor noticed there was chalk dust on her nose. Becca noticed, too, whispering in her mother's ear, then reaching up to brush it off.

“This is my wife, Tess,” the sheriff said proudly. “And these are my daughters. We're glad to have you here at our ranch.”

There was quiet pride in his simple words, and deeper emotion in the look that passed between husband and wife as Tess guided Becca over the flagstone patio.

“I'm so happy to meet you both. I know you're both probably dead on your feet, so I'll dispense with the usual tour. There's food on warmers up in the casita, and the refrigerator's stocked. I've warmed up the hot tub, too, since it gets nippy in the evening.” She reached around a magnificent rosebush to shake Taylor's hand. “I can't tell you what a pleasure it is to have you here. You, too—Mr. Stone.”

“Momma, can I show them the way to the casita?”

“That would be very nice, Katie. Why don't you help her, Becca?”

Red sneakers flashed over the ground, accompanied by wild giggles. The rosebushes shook as the girls disappeared around a winding adobe fence covered with trailing morning glories.

Tess watched them with a smile. “I wish I had half their energy.” She took a deep breath. “They're up at dawn and they don't stop until we tuck them in at night.”

“You feeling okay?” T.J. put a hand on his wife's shoulder. “Not having any more pains, are you?”

His wife flushed. “I'm just fine.”

“Are you sure?”

She nodded firmly. “A little tired, that's all. I wanted to finish that market study for Mae's new tortilla soup launch.” She glanced at Taylor as they walked beneath an adobe arch fitted with an old cowbell. “We're experimenting with some local products, the hotter the better, but don't let T.J. talk you into sampling them. After my first taste, my mouth was sore for a week.”

“Thanks for the warning.” Taylor watched sunlight play over Tess's face and wondered if she wasn't a little pale. “Are you sure this isn't too much for you? We could stay somewhere else.”

“I wouldn't hear of it. I've got months to go yet.” She touched the slim curve of her stomach with a protective hand. “My husband just likes to worry. You know how men can be.”

Taylor looked over at Jack, who was walking slightly ahead, talking with the sheriff. Except for her father, Jack was the only man who had ever worried about her or protected her. She had to remind herself not to get used to the experience.

“Do you know about what happened in California?” she asked quietly.

“T.J. told me. It will probably be hard for you to trust anyone now, but you can believe my husband when he tells you it's safe here. He'll see to it. The man's good at taking care of people.” Her face brightened. “Whenever you feel rested, just come down to the main house. The girls and I are making biscuits today.”

Taylor grimaced at her creased jeans and dusty jacket. “First I want to try out that hot tub. It sounds like heaven after driving all day. In fact, I might never come out again.”

Her breath caught as she turned a corner, where a small door of teal blue opened into a courtyard filled with wildflowers. The two girls were already holding Jack's hand, tugging him inside. He reached down to grab Katie's pigtails while she danced around him, laughing.

The sight did odd things to Taylor's insides. Who knew he'd be so comfortable around children? She watched him break off a big orange hibiscus flower and tuck it into Becca's hair, smiling gravely as her face filled with color.

But she didn't pull away. Her blue eyes, so like her father's, simply gleamed. Another woman smitten by the lethal Broussard charm, Taylor thought wryly. That must make about a thousand.

A thousand and one.

She followed Tess into a room rich with the scent of piñon and cedar. Light gleamed off stained glass and hand-loomed rugs with a warmth that was nearly palpable.

“I think that's enough for now,” Tess said, as Jack surreptitiously rubbed his shoulder. “Say good-bye, Katie. You, too, Becca.”

There was more giggling, quiet voices, then another flash of red sneakers back out into the golden sunlight.

Taylor felt as if she'd been touched by some rare magic, a force as tangible as the clay walls that climbed the hillside. Jack's smile told her that he felt the magic, too. But he was just about to collapse.

She waved good-bye to their hosts, closed the door, and took a deep breath, savoring the warm desert air. Then she took Jack's arm and turned him toward the bedroom. “If you need help undressing, just let me know.”