Hunted, A Romantic Suspence Novel (6 page)

Another picture filled the screen. The reporter moved on to the next headline.

Matt turned off the television and focused all his attention on Katie. “How do you know Strict?”

She pulled her pillow tightly to her, holding it like a shield, her gaze still on the now-blank screen. Fear radiated from her, even as she shook her head.

Matt scooted the dog out of his way and knelt in front of her. Gripping her shoulders, he pulled her to a sitting position, holding her there until she focused on his face. “You have to talk to me, Katie. I can’t keep you safe if I don’t know what’s going on.”

Tears filled her eyes, then she closed them tight for a minute. When she opened them again, he read only bleak despair in them. “There’s no place safe for me.”

“You’re safe with me.” His hands massaging her shoulders.

“For now. But he’ll find me.”

“Strict?”

She nodded.

“Why?”

“Because I betrayed him.” She broke the current between them, staring down at her arms wrapped tight around the pillow in front of her.

Exasperated by her lack of trust in him and her apparent defeat, Matt released her. He stood, then grasped her by one elbow to help her off the couch. He tipped her chin.

The desire to kiss her overwhelmed him. It would be so easy to sample those soft, luscious lips. The warmth of her body so close to his, the feminine scent of gardenias filled his senses. But he wanted more from her. He wanted her trust.

“Get some sleep, Katie. Maybe in the morning, you’ll feel like letting me really help you.” He pressed his lips to hers, a gentle kiss. A promise. A comfort. A simple exchange of human contact. Before it could get out of control, he eased away and released her. “Take the second room upstairs. I’ll sleep in the one closest to the stairs.”

A bemused expression crossed her face as she moved away. She nodded and carried her pillow-shield up the stairs. Matt watched her go. He grinned to himself.

She didn’t even notice the dog following her.

Katie climbed into the cold bed and snuggled beneath the sheets and quilt. She touched her fingers to her lips.

Matt had kissed her.

No one ever kissed her like that before. Her lips still tingled. She ran her tongue across them, tasting the hint of chocolate he’d left there, remembering the feel of his warm lips on hers.

She’d received her share of slobbering advances growing up. For years boys and men tried to garner favor from her stepfather through her. Once they learned she meant less to the man than his pitbulls, she’d been left alone.

Matt’s kiss hadn’t filled her with fear or revulsion. Instead a pleasant sense of warmth, comfort, and something akin to excitement had suffused her. When he’d released her and stepped away, she’d wanted to beg him to kiss her again.

This man’s tenderness was dangerous. The comfort he offered would make her soft. To fight the Devil she needed to stay tough. She couldn’t let Matt get too close, for his own sake.

And oh, she so wanted to wrap herself up in his promises of safety. She wanted to tell him everything. Not just today’s troubles, but all the long terrible nightmare she’d lived through since the day her father died. She couldn’t do it, though. She couldn’t let herself fall into that trap. Once, years ago, she’d gone to the Marshals with her story and they’d promised to keep her safe.

What Matt didn’t know, couldn’t understand, was she brought as much danger to him as he did to her. The Devil was coming for her. Her day of punishment had come, and every second Matt spent in her company put him at risk of receiving the same. Anyone helping her would die right along with her.

Closing her eyes, she thought about Marshal Castello. He’d promised to keep her safe. He and his partner had been her last line of protection. Yet they’d betrayed her.

Nowhere on this earth will provide safe haven for the traitor among us.

She stared at the door. It stood about six inches open. Wide enough for her to see trouble coming. Years ago she’d learned to sleep lightly. She never knew when the Devil would come and drag her from her bed to torment her.

Those nights, his eyes filled with wild rage. She’d obeyed without question, hoping she’d only be forced to stand in the cold rain or snow in nothing more than her night shirt, quoting gun specifications or his own personal manifesto against the country’s government and its leaders. The slightest sign of hesitation or question from her triggered more violent punishment. She rubbed the scar on her hip and thigh.

A shiver ran through her.

Sleep. She needed to sleep, to regain some strength. In the morning she’d decide what best to do.

She touched her fingers to her lips once more. The gift of Matt’s kiss warmed her from the inside out. She thought of his deep hazel-green eyes, the feel of his hands on her arms.

Her body relaxed into the warm covers.

Tomorrow she’d give him a gift too. She’d protect him from the Devil.

Matt listened to her find her way to the rear bedroom, then pulled out his laptop and connected to the Wi-Fi before sitting at the kitchen counter. Now he had a few clues to the puzzle of Katie Myers.

He brought up a news service archive and typed in Jacob Strict’s name. The computer screen took a moment to change then a page listing numerous articles appeared.

Scrolling down the page, Matt searched for the site he wanted. When he spied it, he clicked and watched the same image of Strict that had been on the TV fill his screen. The photograph didn’t diminish the crazed gleam in the man’s eyes. Matt clicked on the next picture in the series.

The Federal Building in Philadelphia just minutes after the bomb blast leveled two-thirds of it popped up on the screen. Black smoke plumed from the building. Firemen sprayed water over the smoldering rubble as others helped victims climb through the debris to safer ground. Matt remembered this scene well. This picture had haunted the news reports for weeks after the bombing.

Next came the funeral procession of one of the ten FBI agents killed in the blast. The tear-streaked faces of her teenage daughters as they escorted the casket to the cemetery had broken the hearts of many an American.

Moving on to the next image, Matt saw again the milling crowds of protestors and supporters outside the courthouse where Jacob Strict’s trial took place. Riot police had kept Strict’s followers apart from the friends and families of those injured in the bombing.

Finally, he hit upon the picture he’d been searching for.

A young woman exited the courtroom, flanked by two large men in dark suits and even darker sunglasses. Her white-blonde hair pulled away from her face with a headband, she wore a dark-blue suit coat and skirt with a white blouse beneath.

Matt cropped the picture, trying to enhance the image and get a closer view of the chief witness against Strict. The same oval-shaped face, full lips and large eyes fringed with dark lashes.

Seventeen year-old Katie Myers, formerly known as Sarah Strict, the Prophet’s stepdaughter, almost single-handedly brought down one of the most charismatic militia leaders in the century’s last fifty years.

And she slept upstairs in the back bedroom tonight.

Matt studied her image. In the enlarged picture’s graininess he read the fear etched on her face. Yet he recognized the strong set of her jaw. He’d seen that determination when she’d held the Glock on him in his car earlier. He also saw the steeliness in her posture. She might be scared out of her mind, but she would do what was necessary, despite her fear.

“Katie, don’t you think you should tell me who’s trying to kill you?”

“The Devil.”

All of Strict’s followers called him The Prophet. Katie called him the Devil.

Why after nearly ten years had Strict suddenly come after his stepdaughter? How had Katie managed to hide from Strict’s followers for so long? And how had they found her?

Knowing who she was and who was after her had given him as many questions as they’d answered.

Had Katie been in the witness protection program? That would explain how she’d been able to change her identity. The feds must’ve helped her stay off Strict’s radar all these years.

The question was, why now that she was in trouble, hadn’t she insisted he take her to the FBI or the United States Marshals for protection? Why was she running from the very authorities who’d helped her for so long?

A vision of her haunting violet eyes filled with tears just before she closed them filled his mind. He wanted to erase all the fear, mistrust and despair he’d seen in them since they’d met. He wondered what they’d look like if she ever truly smiled at him.

Deciding he needed to let someone know Katie was safe, he searched until he found a web site to contact the Marshals by e-mail. He typed in a message asking who he should contact regarding information on Sarah Strict, letting them know he was a highway patrolman and left his e-mail for them to contact him.

Matt clicked on some articles to read more about Strict and his obsessed followers. He wanted to know more about the man he’d be fighting in order to protect Katie.

* * * * *

The Prophet shuffled into the interview room in his orange jumpsuit, shackles on both his hands and feet. Sitting on the wooden chair, he looked through the pane of safety glass that separated him from his lawyer. For a long moment he stared at the balding man’s heavy jowls, then at the blue pinstriped Italian silk suit he wore.

Jacob Strict glanced at the guard standing just inside the room. This last week he’d been under twenty-four hour observation. The government was afraid he’d cheat them of their glorious execution by taking his own life.

Little did they know him. He wouldn’t breathe his last breath until the little bitch paid for her treason.

With a subtle nod, he signaled the other man to pick up the phone, then he lifted his own handset.

“Is it done?”

“There was a complication.”

He narrowed his eyes. “What kind?”

“The fireworks were planned for midnight, as she left the hospital.”

“And?” His lips pressed into a thin line.

“A car thief set them off.”

Strict held the phone away from his head. Slowly, he tilted his head to one side, then the other. The joints’ cracking reverberated off the room’s cement walls.

“So, she’s gone to ground?”

The lawyer nodded.

“And my retribution?” He tapped a finger on the counter.

The other man pulled at the silk shirt collar. “He’s searching for her as we speak. His contact at the Marshals has been most helpful so far. There’s little doubt his prey will stay hidden long.”

Strict nodded. “Remind him she must not be allowed to escape punishment for betraying the Family.”

“He’s never let you down before.”

The Prophet stared at the other man until beads of sweat formed on the lawyer’s shiny head.

“He has less than a week to fulfill my final prophecy.”

Sunlight filtered through the drawn Roman shades and filled the room with a delicate softness. For a moment Katie snuggled deeper into the covers. Then she felt the hard lump in the bed beside her. Her eyes popped open. Stretched out in front of her, a dog lay on its back with one leg pointed skyward.

Swallowing a gasp, she scooted backward, only to encounter another long lump. Peeking over her shoulder, she saw another of the blasted dogs. Then she stretched out one leg and bumped into what had to be the third one.

I’m trapped.

Her heart pounded in her chest.
Take a breath and calm down.
None of them had attacked while she slept. That had to be good. Slowly, careful not to disturb any of the three, she eased herself toward the headboard. The littlest one, Rocky, she believed his name was, rolled into the vacated spot.

Katie froze, her knuckles blanched white as she gripped the headboard with all her strength.

The dog wagged his tail just a bit.

“Look,” she spoke to the animal watching her with big brown eyes. “I don’t want to be best friends. Just let me scoot off the bed and that spot’s yours.”

The dog wagged its tail faster. This time he was joined by the other two. Her pulse jumped to a faster beat.
Now I’m outnumbered.

“Okay. You guys stay right there, and I’ll let you have the whole bed to yourselves.” Swinging her feet over the side of the bed, she kept her eyes on them until she stood against the far wall.

Her eyes closed, she pressed herself into the wall, fighting to breathe normally. Would this nightmare ever end? Every time she thought she’d found an island of safety, something new from her past popped up to haunt her.

She opened her eyes and studied the dogs. Her heart slowed to a natural pace.
I got away from those animals.
Now how to get free of Matt and his questions?

A sharp whistle sounded from below stairs. All three dogs bounded off the bed, and out of the room. Katie hurried to close the door behind them.

Moments later, yipping and a male voice came from below her window. Slipping over to it, she stood just to the side so as not to be seen from the yard. Matt and the dogs frolicked outside. Warm breath from all four swirled around them in the cold air as he threw tennis balls for the animals to chase and retrieve on the thawed wet grass left from the previous week’s snowfall.

Dressed in a forest-green sweater that stretched across his broad shoulders and a pair of faded jeans that accented his thighs and long legs, Matt moved with power and energy as he chased the dogs about the yard. Mesmerized by his movements, a warmth started in the depths of her stomach. Remembering his kiss from the night before, her fingers caressed her lips.

Never had she seen anyone play with dogs with such abandon. Her stepfather had drilled his animals with the same determination he did his followers. He wanted them on alert at all times, ready to attack and defend.

Matt threw another ball for the smallest dog to chase then turned to stare up at her window. A shiver of awareness ran through her. Katie sucked in her breath and stepped farther into the curtains.