Hunted, A Romantic Suspence Novel (17 page)

“Dammit.” He hit the steering wheel. “I should be able to call on all the power of law enforcement to find this guy and protect her.”

But she’d never forgive me.

Light flashed on metal in his rearview mirror. As he watched, a black sedan slowly pulled out of the parking lot he’d just exited.

The hairs on his neck tingled a little as it approached his tail.

The light turned green. Slowly, he drove his car under the interstate and onto the entrance ramp and headed north. As he settled into traffic, he glanced into the rearview mirror again. No sign of the sedan.

Great. Now he was imagining someone following him. Next, he’d be inspecting his phone lines to see if they were tapped, and seeing conspiracies in everything.

Switching into the middle lane he continued north. After passing several exits, he glanced in his rearview mirror, then his driver’s mirror. Nothing but regular traffic. Then he glanced into the passenger-side mirror. A beer truck moved right to the exit ramp, and there it was. The same black sedan.

The hairs on his neck tingled again and his pulse rate jumped two notches.

Coincidence?

“Well, let’s just see.”

He stepped on the gas, and maneuvered his truck into the left-hand passing lane. Frequently, he checked the traffic behind him in the rearview mirror.

Yep, the sedan changed lanes. It moved just enough to keep him in its sights.

Okay, I’m not imagining it, I’m being tailed.

He eased his foot off the accelerator, letting the truck settle into pace with the cars around him. The guy kept just enough distance to track him, not attack him.

The question was who was on his ass? The Marshals? Strict’s hit man? Had the police decided to put their own tail on him?

Whoever it was, they were looking for Katie. He felt it clear down to his bones.

Think, Edgars. How can I turn this to my advantage?

With one hand on the steering wheel, he slipped his cell phone’s earpiece into his ear, then dialed Luke’s work number.

“This is Edgars.”

“Luke, it’s Matt.”

“Oh, ho. Got away from the lady long enough to contact your brother and let me know you’re still among the living, huh?”

Matt clenched his jaw and ignored his brother’s off-handed reprimand for not contacting him since the ambush. “Can you leave the office now?”

“Sure, why?”

“I need your help.”

There was a pause on the other end.

“What’s up?”

“I need to shake a tail.”

“Whatever you need, man.”

Matt explained his plan to Luke, then disconnected.

Now to keep his tracker occupied until Luke could follow his directions. He shifted lanes through the midday traffic, back to his right, and headed northeast, away from Katie.

* * * * *

As he drove through the apartment complex’s lot, Castello checked the address he’d gotten for Matt Edgars. He doubted the patrolman or Katie would actually come back to the apartment, but it was the only place he had left to look for them.

His trip to the hospital, while providing details of why Katie was admitted the other night, did little to aid him in actually finding her.

A low whistle burst out of him as he pulled up to the last apartment in the complex’s rear. Coercing Edgars’ address from the hospital administration had been another waste of time. He hadn’t needed to.

Yellow police tape marked off the apartment’s entire front. A crew of three worked to mount a new front door. The old one, with a hole big enough to drive a Hummer through, stood propped against the outside wall. It was a wonder that Katie and Edgars survived at all.

Parking his car, Castello pushed his black sunglasses on his nose. Time for the big bad federal agent to step on some local law-enforcement toes.

The work crew’s oldest member looked up as he approached them. “Hey, mister, can’t you see the police tape? You can’t be here.”

Castello took out his ID case, flipped it open and let them all see his shiny Marshal’s badge. “Which of you is in charge here?”

“That’d be me,” the older man replied and offered his hand. “Ralph Bender. I’m the maintenance foreman for the complex.”

Castello shook hands. “How long has Mr. Edgars lived here?”

“About three years,” Ralph answered then instructed the other two workers to finish repairing the front door.

“Has he had any trouble like this before?”

Ralph shook his head. “Not like this. He only complained about the regular leaks and electrical problems all the other tenants ‘round here have.”

“Okay, thanks.” Castello watched until they had the new door in place then went inside.

Yellow police paint circled the tiled entranceway where the chair and shotgun rig had sat. The chair, weapon and rigging he assumed now sat in the police evidence room.

Without touching anything Castello walked through the townhouse’s front living room and into the kitchen. He wanted to get a feel for the man who was aiding Katie. The apartment was neat, but not fussy. Apparently, Edgars liked a little order to his life, but wasn’t obsessed with it.

Using a pen from his pocket, Castello pushed the play button on the answering machine.

“There are no new messages,” said the mechanical voice. Not that he’d expected any.

“The tape was clean when we got here.”

Castello turned to see two men in dark blue suits standing just inside the sliding glass doors to the patio. Their neutral expressions hinted they were the lead detectives on the case.

Well, he was just going to make their day.

“Gentlemen, I’m Marshal Castello.” He gave them his ID and badge. “And I have a problem.”

“Actually, you have several. The biggest one being you’re standing in the middle of our crime scene,” the shorter detective said.

Great. A cop with attitude.
Well, right now his attitude was bigger.

“Gentlemen, since one of the people involved is a federally protected witness, this just became my case, and you are the ones standing in
my
crime scene.”

A slow smile spread over Castello’s face as the detectives’ expressions darkened.

Oh yeah, it felt good to pull rank.

* * * * *

Katie sat curled on the couch in the sunroom, flipping through the Family’s pictures once more. She’d hoped never to look upon any of these faces again. Every one of them brought back some bleak memory.

The day she’d escaped she’d managed to pilfer these photos from Strict’s office. The last time she’d seen them, she and the pictures had both been in FBI custody. Somewhere in this file had to be the person Strict sent to kill her.

But who?

Several of the men were currently serving life terms for their participation in the bombing’s planning. She could eliminate them easily. The Marshals would’ve contacted her if any of them had been paroled.

You believed they’d protect you, too.

The thought startled her. If someone with the Marshals had sold her out to Strict, then perhaps she’d been kept in the dark regarding any convicted conspirators’ releases.

Maybe she needed to ask Matt to look into the possibility one of the five men having been paroled. If so, she’d have to eliminate possible suspects based on the skills she knew they did or didn’t possess.

Whoa. When had she started relying on Matt?

When she’d called him to get her away from the hospital he’d simply been a conduit to safety. She should’ve bolted that first night before she’d gotten to know him, before he ever kissed her.

Visions of him standing in his boxers, sweat glistening on his skin, passion etching his face washed over her. Heat ignited deep in her stomach and traveled downwards.

“Stop it.”

Her command to herself was so loud it shattered the house’s silence and startled the dogs. They came to attention at her feet.

“Not you guys.”

They all tilted their head in different directions as if asking who else she would be talking to.

“What, haven’t you ever seen anyone go crazy before?”

They wagged their stubby tails at her.

“Great, now I’m talking to the dogs.” She shoved herself off the sofa and headed to the kitchen. “Come on, let’s see if we can find something for lunch.”

She laid the folder of pictures on the table then searched the drawers for some paper and a pen. One drawer’s clutter amazed her.

“Look at this,” she addressed her companions. “Spools of thread, coupons, rubber bands, a deck of cards.” She rifled through, finding small bits of everyday life.

“I’ve never seen a drawer like this.”

Then it hit her. In all her life she’d never been in a place of such permanence and security that she could collect such odds and ends of normalcy.

Rage surged through her.

She slammed the drawer shut.

Strict stole her past and had put chains on her present. Somehow she needed to claim back her future from him and his poisonous beliefs.

The dogs whined at her.

“What?”

They sat next to their bowls wagging their tails, expectant looks on their faces.

“I guess you guys just want food, huh? Must be nice. The only worry you guys have is wondering when the next meal is going to be.”

Shaking her head, she found their food, and scooped out a bowl full for each.

“You know I don’t know how much you’re supposed to eat.”

They didn’t answer as they stayed seated, rooted to the spot, waiting for something.

“Oh, go ahead, eat.” She waved her hand at the bowls.

They scampered to their food in a mass of wiggling tails, paws and muzzles.

She watched them for a minute.

Visions of another time, another place filled her mind.

“Mama, I’m hungry.”

“Hush, child. Don’t let him hear you complain.”

“But why do we have to wait for him before we can eat? Daddy never made us wait.”

Her mother finished setting the food on the table. It looked so tasty and she was so hungry. Without thinking of consequences she reached for one hot, tender biscuit.

The Devil grabbed her from behind.

She screamed.

“What do you think you’re doing, girl?” He shook her hard then set her away from the table. “You know the rules. The man of this house will tell you when you can eat. Even my dogs are better trained than you.”

She knew better than to say she was sorry. He’d call her a sniveling brat and punish her for speaking without permission.

“You’ll stand there while your mother and I eat.”

When her mother started to protest, the Devil turned on her. “Quiet, woman, or you’ll join the brat in her punishment.”

She watched the pain and anguish fill her mother’s face.

Oh, please choose me, mother,
she’d wanted to scream. But in the end, her mother meekly sat at the table with him.

She stood near the wall, her little hands clenched in fists, while he and her mother ate the delicious smelling food. Her stomach grumbled at first, then hurt with the pain of emptiness, but it couldn’t compare to the pain of her empty heart.

When they finished, her mother set leftovers on a plate for her. But the Devil wasn’t happy with the look on her face and so he fed every last scrap to his precious dogs
.

And so her training began.

A shiver ran over Katie’s body, bringing her out of her nightmarish memories. She’d worked hard to bury her past. Looking at the Family’s pictures had opened the door for the memories to surface easily.

She pulled ham for a sandwich from the refrigerator. She’d learned her lesson well that day. Never let someone know how starved you were, and never go without food when it was available.

As she ate her sandwich at the table, she glanced at the clock on the wall. It was after noon.

Where was Matt? He should’ve been back by now. What if something had happened to him? What if the Marshals found him? Or worse, the hit man?

Stop it. He’s a big boy, he can take care of himself.

Oh, yes, he was big all right. She felt so tiny in his presence. But oddly enough, she didn’t feel small or threatened.

In fact, she’d never experienced this kind of acceptance and freedom in her whole life. Sure, she wasn’t allowed to leave, but she could speak her mind without fear of reprisal.

That freedom wasn’t something she was used to.

She looked at the clock again.

So, where was Matt?

The dogs stopped eating, their heads tilting to the side as they each listened to something outside. A low growl came from the largest.

Katie grabbed her gun, and locked a round into the chamber. She eased her way to the front window and peeked out. An electric blue firebird sat in the drive. She ducked away from the window.

Oh God, oh God
. Her stomach dropped, and her heart ached.

Matt had betrayed her, too.

She moved behind the front door. As it opened, she lifted her Glock.

“Don’t move.”

Cold metal pressed against Matt’s neck.

He froze. “I won’t, sweetheart. But please don’t blow off anything important I might want to use later.”

“You’re late.”

“I had a problem with the truck.” He heard her ease the trigger back and cool air caressed his neck as she lowered the weapon. Only then did he relax.

“What’s wrong with the truck?” She moved away, allowing him into the house.

“It was being tailed.”

She froze halfway to the table. Slowly she turned, that quiet, wary stillness on her features again. “You’re sure?”

“I’ve driven the entire north side freeway system making sure.” He grabbed her hand and headed to the stairs. “Get your stuff together, we need to get out of here.”

She dug her heels in and tried to pull her hand away. “Why?”

“Because I don’t know who was following me. Could have been the hit man, could have been the Marshals, could have been the police. It might even have been my own people.” He let go of her hand to grip her by the shoulders. She needed to understand. “If anyone at my work remembers I’m house-sitting for Craig, we could have visitors at any moment. Right now, the only people I trust knowing where we are is my family.”