Love Inspired Suspense July 2015 #1 (56 page)

Was the front one the fire rescue boat, and was Hunter in one of the others?

“Fine, have it your way.” Sally pulled back the hammer and rested her index finger on the trigger.

Meagan's heart almost stopped. “Wait. I'll do what you say.” And hope and pray that those approaching boats were for her. And that Sally wouldn't hear them over the soft putter of the four-horse.

The moment she was on her feet, Sally lunged toward her, knocking her off balance and over the side of the boat. Meagan hit the water with a splash.

Before she could recover, Sally jumped in, too, landing on top of her. Meagan's head snapped to the side, and several vertebrae cracked. Pain shot through her shoulder and neck, and water flowed into her nose. She broke the surface and tried to suck in air between coughing fits.

When she attempted to swim away, her foot met a firm thigh. Sally was right behind her. She had to get free. At least elude her long enough for help to arrive.

Two hands clamped down on her shoulders, forcing her under. She tried to break her captor's grip, but it only tightened, sending pain radiating down her arms. She fought with every bit of strength she possessed, twisting, kicking and clawing at the hands that held her. But Sally deflected each kick, and the fingernails digging into her hands and arms didn't seem to faze her. It was hopeless. With Sally in a life jacket and her wearing none, she didn't stand a chance.

God, help me. Let that be Hunter, and let him get here in time.

She had no idea if God would answer. Or if He had even heard. But those simple words prayed in desperation were the only chance she had left.

Her lungs began to burn, and the need for air soon eclipsed all other thought. She clamped her mouth shut, fighting against the urge to inhale. But the breath came anyway, involuntary and uncontrollable. Her throat closed, and spasms racked her body. Her diaphragm contracted, working to force the water from her lungs. But there was nothing to replace it except more water.

Terror gripped her, mixed with desperation. She had escaped Edmund, only to fall prey to a psychotic woman. She was moments from rescue, but was going to die.

Gradually, her spinning thoughts slowed and time seemed to hang suspended.

Then there was nothing.

EIGHT

H
unter sped down the channel, motor wide-open. Blake was just ahead of him, their speeds matched. The Cedar Key Fire rescue boat had overtaken them both and was in the lead.
God, please let us get there in time.

He tightened his grip on the throttle and offered up another desperate prayer, pleas for Meagan's protection. And prayers for his own state of mind.

Because ever since he'd barged into that bathroom and found it empty, he'd been half crazy with worry. If he didn't get a grip on his emotions, he wasn't going to be any good to Meagan or anyone else. He drew in a deep breath.

Maybe Blake was right. Maybe there
was
more between him and Meagan than he was willing to admit.

A vise clamped down on his heart. He didn't want to care for her in that way. He didn't want to care for
anyone
like that. His life was full and satisfying. And it was safe. At least in the way that mattered.

Career risks he could handle. Although Cedar Key was a low-crime town, there were dangers inherent to anyone who wore a uniform and carried a weapon. But he faced those dangers without flinching.

It was the other risks he wasn't willing to face—the possibility that he might give his heart to someone and find he had fallen for a con. Or that he might allow his whole life to become wrapped up in another person, then have everything they had built snatched away in an instant.

He pushed the thoughts from his mind and squinted into the darkness. Seahorse Key was up ahead and to the right, a dark, stationary shape against the ever-moving surface of the sea. Beyond that... His pulse quickened and hope surged through him. Something sat a short distance off the key, a distinct shape, visible in the moonlight.

He strained to make it out. Yes, it was a boat, a small one, probably the size of Meagan's johnboat. There should be two people on board. But there were no shapes breaking the smooth profile. The boat appeared to be empty.

Which meant Meagan and Sally were already in the water.

His chest clenched. Knowing Meagan's past and her fear of drowning only made it worse.
God, help her to keep her cool. Help us to get there in time.
He pushed the throttle harder, but it was already at top speed.

As they drew closer, a small figure became visible, someone in a life jacket bobbing in the waves. He searched for a second person, his heart pounding. But there was only one. Sally Ferguson. Frantic prayers circled through his mind as he willed Meagan to surface.

The fire rescue boat was close now, its spotlights bathing the whole scene in sharp white light. Sally's head was tilted forward, her arms submerged. She didn't acknowledge their approach. She either didn't notice or was determined that nothing would stop her quest for revenge.

Despair showered down on him, hopelessness tinged with desperation. Meagan didn't even seem to be struggling. Maybe they were already too late.

The rescue boat slowed, and although Sally's head pivoted their direction, she didn't release her hold. Joe jumped into the water. Wade followed him moments later. Bobby and Gary remained on the boat. Bobby was in uniform, Gary wasn't, but both officers had their weapons drawn. Blake dropped to an idle, and Hunter did, too.

“Freeze!” It was Bobby who gave the order. “Hands in the air.”

But Sally didn't move. When Joe grasped her arms, she struggled for several seconds, then tipped her head back and let out a bellow of rage-filled agony. Without warning, she swung a fist, catching Joe across the jaw.

Hunter stood, ready to take action. But he didn't need to. Bobby laid down his weapon and jumped in, removing the cuffs from his belt without pausing. He reached her within moments and soon had her restrained.

But Hunter's focus was on Wade. Joe had joined him, and they were lifting Meagan over the open back of the boat. Her eyes were closed, and she wasn't moving. She probably wasn't breathing, either. If only they could have gotten there three or four minutes sooner.

No, he wouldn't think like that. Joe and Wade were trained EMTs. They
would
revive her.

While they did CPR on Meagan, he tried to tune out Sally's screams of protest. Couldn't Bobby shut her up? He cast a glance that direction. Blake had pulled up alongside the rescue boat, and Gary had stepped aboard. Now they were loading a twisting and bucking Sally Ferguson aboard Blake's boat.

Hunter's eyes shifted back to Meagan, and he continued to send up prayers, alternating between pleading with God to save her and willing her to start breathing again. He longed to go to her, if for nothing more than to hold her hand, but he needed to stay back, to give Joe and Wade room to do their work.

In the background, his colleague's Southern drawl registered at the edge of his thoughts. Bobby was reading Sally her rights.

Finally, Meagan heaved, and water poured out onto the deck. Wade rolled her onto her side, and coughing spasms overtook her, expelling more water from her lungs. Then Joe covered her with a blanket.

Relief washed through Hunter, so intense he almost collapsed back onto the seat.
Thank You, thank You, thank You.
His prayers were answered. She was going to be all right. He shifted the motor into forward and pulled up alongside the rescue boat. Nothing was going to keep him away from her now.

He stepped aboard, and when Meagan sat up, Sally emitted a howl of rage. “No, it's not fair! She doesn't deserve to live! She killed him. She could have saved him, but didn't.”

Bobby tried to calm her, but she wouldn't stop the flow of words.

“She saved the senator, because he was someone important. But she let my brother die.”

Sally dropped her head and started to sob. “It's not fair. She's still alive, and he's gone. He's all I had. I loved him. And I know he loved me. For the first time, I was happy.”

For the first time?
What was she talking about? She had lived with her brother for the past ten years.

She sobbed even harder. “He was going to take me away. He promised. And she ruined it.”

Take her away? On a trip? She was making less and less sense.

She drew in some jagged breaths and continued. “I always had a hard time finding someone. And finally Jarrod came along.”

Jarrod?
Who was Jarrod? Her brother's name was Bruce.

“She could have had any guy she wanted. But she had to go after Jarrod. She took him away from me.”

Sally suddenly grew calm. Hunter watched the wildness flee her eyes, and though she turned toward him and the others aboard the rescue boat, her gaze didn't really settle there. Her focus seemed to be somewhere far beyond them. Or in the distant past.

When she continued, her tone was flat, without emotion. “I can't have him, but she can't, either.”

Hunter's eyes widened as realization stuck him. This was no longer about the pilot. Or even about Meagan. It was about the incident when she was sixteen years old. The fight over a guy. And her friend's suspicious death.

Bobby leaned toward her, his voice low. “Why can't she have him?”

Hunter watched her slowly shift her gaze. When she spoke, her words, and the coldness behind them, sent a chill all the way to his core.

“Because I killed her.”

Hunter dropped to his knees next to Meagan and took her hands in his. Her grip was surprisingly strong. She would need to go to the hospital to be checked out, and he would follow her there. Then, if she would let him, he would sleep on her couch. He didn't want her to be alone when she woke up screaming from a nightmare, as he was sure she would.

Blake motioned toward the channel. “I'll take these guys back, and they can get her booked in.”

Meagan sat up straighter. “Wait. Check my boat. Sally had a gun.”

Blake eased up to it, and Bobby reached in with a cloth and retrieved a 9 mm with a suppressor. “This baby could have done some damage, and nobody would have known.” He eased back into his seat. “So how are we getting Meagan's boat back?”

Hunter held up a hand. “I'll tow it.” Once he returned it to the beach at the Tucker place, he would take care of his own boat, then head for the hospital.

As Blake sped away with his three passengers, Wade knelt next to Meagan. “We need to take you to the ER. You've been through quite an ordeal and should be checked out.”

Meagan's hand tightened on his, as if it was her lifeline to safety. “No.” She shook her head. “I want to stay with Hunter.”

Both Wade and Joe looked at him with raised brows, and one corner of Wade's mouth cocked up. No, it wasn't like that, regardless of the emotion exploding in his heart at the moment. It was just that Meagan knew him better than any of the others. She had reached a level of comfort with him, maybe even trusted him.

Wade again grew serious. “Meagan, you need to be treated. You've got water in your lungs.”

“No, I coughed it up. I'm breathing fine.”

“You're breathing fine now, but even a little bit of fluid could be dangerous.”

She shook her head, jaw set. Her stubbornness could be exasperating. Tonight it was understandable. After all she had been through, spending several hours in a hospital emergency room was probably the last thing she felt like doing. But he wasn't willing to take chances with her life.

“Will you go if I take you and stay with you?”

Several moments passed while she pondered his question. Finally she nodded.

After he helped her onto his boat, she settled into the seat opposite his and drew in a shaky breath. “It's all over.”

“Yes, it is. You're safe now.”

He accelerated, but set the throttle at about half the speed he had used coming out. If she wanted to talk, he wouldn't make her shout over the roar of the motor.

“How did you know where to find me?”

He eased the throttle back further. Her voice was soft. He had heard her, but just barely. “I talked to a couple who saw you headed down Third toward the water.”

She nodded, still staring straight ahead. “I remember them. I thought about trying to signal them, to let them know I needed help. But Sally said if I did, she'd kill them.” Meagan turned to look at him. “I couldn't risk anyone else's life to save my own.”

He reached across and patted her shoulder. “You did good.”

She sighed and pulled the blanket more tightly around her. “The pilot drowned.”

A hollow emptiness spread through him. Obviously, Sally had gotten ahold of the autopsy report and had told Meagan what it said.

“I'm sorry.”

He longed to reach out to her, to offer comfort. But there was nothing he could say that would erase what she now knew. Although he didn't take his eyes off the course ahead, he could feel her watching him.

“You knew, didn't you?”

He couldn't lie. It would be so much easier if he could.

“You knew and didn't tell me.”

“I'm sorry. I knew how much it would upset you.”

“So instead of finding it out from you, I learned it from her.” Meagan's anger came through in her tone, infusing her voice with strength that hadn't been there moments earlier.

“Meagan, please don't be angry with me. I was trying to protect you.”

“It's not your place to protect me.” She crossed her arms inside the blanket and twisted in the seat so she was angled away from him.

He backed off the throttle until the engine was just idling. “I saw how much it bothered you that you weren't able to get the pilot out of the plane. That was when you thought he was already dead. When I found out that he was alive when the plane sank, I knew that would cause you even more grief. Unnecessary grief. I didn't want to hurt you.”

He reached up to touch the side of her face, and she flinched, almost imperceptibly. He dropped his hand. “You don't need to be afraid of me, Meagan. I would never hurt you.” He lifted his hand again and traced the line of her jaw with one finger, his touch featherlight. “Not all men are abusive. In fact, most men aren't. There's someone out there who is going to appreciate you for all that you are—your talent, your spunk, your gentleness, your care for others. He's going to show you what it's like to feel loved and cared for and cherished above all else.”

Her eyes fluttered closed, and she rested her cheek against the palm of his hand. She looked secure. At peace. Two things she hadn't experienced much in recent months, probably in over a year.

And she was beautiful.

“Show me.” Her words came out in the softest whisper.

His pulse rate tripled, and his stomach went into a free fall.

Show me.
Did she know what she was asking? That if he showed her what it was like to feel loved and cared for and cherished, he couldn't do it without putting his heart and soul into it? That doing so would fan to life embers he had let die years ago? That the very thought filled him with his own brand of fear?

A droplet of water fell from her bangs and caught in her lashes before breaking loose to run down her cheek. It stopped when it reached her mouth. His thumb traced its path, lingering on her lips. The silence of the night wrapped around them, and moonlight bathed them in its silvery glow.

Something stirred within him, a long-suppressed force awakening. Her eyes drifted open, and her gaze locked with his. There was no tension there, no fear. Her eyes held only longing, mirroring his own.

He slid from his seat to kneel next to her, then leaned toward her, drawn by invisible cords. But she didn't pull away. Instead, her eyes closed and her lips parted, inviting him closer still.

He kissed her, the brush of his lips as soft as his other touch had been. But there was nothing gentle about the effect she had on him. Fire coursed all the way to his toes, and he fought the urge to crush her to him.

Despite the firestorm of emotion swirling through him, he held back. Beneath the strength and resourcefulness that she showed to the world was a fragility that spoke to everything masculine in him. Tenderness shot through him, followed by determination. He would show her that other men weren't like Edmund and her father. He would treat her with gentleness and care and respect.