No Time to Hide (19 page)

“Well, hell, then there’s really no reason to keep you alive any longer, is there?”

“Run, Kerry, run!” Cutter shouted as he dived to the ground just as Johnson fired.

Kerry started to do as she was told, but then turned back. She wasn’t going to let Cutter face a madman with a gun alone.

As she ran, she looked frantically for a weapon, any weapon to help Cutter, who was struggling furiously to keep Johnson from being able to get a shot aimed at him. But she knew he couldn’t be successful forever. And Johnson was firing his gun every chance he got.

A second shot rang out. Then a third when Cutter tackled Johnson and the men fell to the hard ground.

Kerry watched the two men grapple on the ground, feeling like she was moving in slow motion while they were fighting at hyper-speed. As she moved in a circle around them, she was trying to do…what? She was afraid to get too close, but felt drawn, desperate to help Cutter somehow.

Keeping her eyes on the action, she looked for an opportunity to help the man who’d saved her life more than once.

Suddenly the ground reached up and grabbed her. She fell to her knees, ignoring the pain of something hard and wet biting into her knees.

A rock. A medium-sized rock, covered on top with the dampness of the nighttime dew.

Keeping her eyes on the two men engaged in a ferocious struggle, she picked up the large rock with both her hands.

Inexplicably, she swept away a few night crawlers that clung to the rock’s bottom.

She reached where they were fighting and watched as they rolled. First Cutter was on top, then Johnson. But it was as if they were moving at warp speed and she could only react in slow motion.

She raised both hands over her head, ignoring the quiver of muscles unused to such effort and waited. Finally, the right moment came.

Johnson was on top, the gun pointed right between Cutter’s eyes. Without another thought, she brought the rock down as hard as she could.

At that moment, their isolated hilltop became Times Square on New Year’s Eve.

Helicopters roared over them with blinding search lights arching back-and-forth, back-and-forth. Kerry tried to turn her head because their brightness was too much to handle. But when she turned away from the sky, she saw at least two dozen cars, red and blue lights flashing continuously, surrounding their car.

There was a roaring in her ears and she shook her head once in order to get rid of it. It was then she looked down at her hands, covered in blood.

“Kerry, darling.” Cutter, alive, bruised but looking amazingly strong and alert, touched her arm. “It’s over, baby. It’s over. But we need you to go see the medics. Okay, baby?”

“Did I kill him?” She wondered whose voice was coming from her throat.

“No, baby. Don’t worry about that.”

“I wanted to kill him. I tried to kill him. I wanted to kill him for you. For Helen.”

“I know, baby. I wanted to kill him for you and for Helen.”

“So, you see, you can tell me the truth. Did I kill him?”

Cutter’s pause was long enough that she knew the truth.

“Okay,” she said, “I’ll see the medics now.”

Six weeks later

Kerry padded around the small cabin on the Tuscarora reservation. It wasn’t much, but it was hers. Free and clear.

In the six weeks since she’d killed Marshal Dean Johnson the government couldn’t thank her enough. Johnson was recovering and awaiting trial. She’d have to testify, but with all the other evidence they had on him, no one thought the outcome was in jeopardy in any way.

She’d tried to tell the government their thanks wasn’t necessary, but like her father had said, “Just roll with the flow, daughter.”

In fact, he’d expounded on that very theme just last weekend when he’d left. He had a new job and he was tickled pink. It seemed the FBI wanted him to consult with them, giving them more inside information on how mob organizations worked.

“Can you believe it, little girl? I’m the one who was on their top twenty-five list for most wanted ten years ago and now I’m going to be teaching their young agents all the dos and don’ts to catch people like me. Only in America.”

This had been added with a wink and a quick drink of the best scotch he could find. In fact, Kerry thought he was even looking forward to it. Yes, he’d enjoyed staying with her in her new house and even had enticed her to go with him one night to the casino in Niagara Falls. It had been there, at the roulette table, he’d given her his final lecture.

“Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, Kerry,” he’d said as she dully watched the wheel spin. “Believe me, the feds used you enough. Hell, they used us all. They may never have had enough to get Johnson on their own. We flushed him out, and now he’s singing like a canary.”

Kerry knew her father was right. She also knew a lot about the inner workings of the U.S. Marshals Service and the federal Witness Security Program. Sadly, this information hadn’t come from the one marshal she wanted to talk to. All Kerry’s knowledge had come from talks with Cutter’s boss Denver.

Kerry remembered the hours she’d spent with the head of the Western New York Regional Office after being checked out at the hospital in Elmira.

***

“When Cutter came back with us after Helen’s death,” Denver explained, “he was aloof. Drank too much. Frankly, he was still grieving. He should’ve had more time away from the job.”

“Why didn’t he?” Kerry asked feeling, despite herself, the pain she knew must have been overwhelming for Cutter, coming back to the job and the office his beloved Helen had been so much a part of.

“The Boston Marathon bombing happened on top of all the mass shootings,” Denver said flatly. “It was a huge drain personnel-wise. We cancelled all leaves—even those for legitimate reasons.”

Kerry nodded. No one would ever forget the fear and impossible, dangerous game of catch-up the nation had been forced to play after that historic day.

“So, he came back to work too soon?” she prompted Denver to continue his story.

“Yes. He was a time bomb. I tried to keep him working innocuous cases. Doing paperwork and other things.”

Cutter must have hated that even more than he missed Helen.

“I thought he was making progress. I was getting ready to assign him to a real case when he got the e-mail.”

Kerry laughed. “It started with e-mail? Isn’t that poetic?”

“Yes. Your ad-lib was a little bit too close for comfort for us. I was afraid you were going to blow the whole thing when you blurted that out in the crypt.”

Kerry shook her head. “What is it with you government guys? You’re always so tight-lipped. If Cutter had told me even a little of what was going on, maybe there wouldn’t have been so many blunders all the way around.”

Denver shrugged. “Hey, we probably should have told you. Cutter wanted to, but I ordered him to keep quiet. I thought it was the best way to keep you out of harm’s way.”

Kerry nodded again. “So, Johnson e-mails Cutter and offers him a bribe?”

“Oh, more than one. Johnson offered him ten thousand dollars for every time he left information on how they could find you. But we couldn’t track the e-mail. That’s why, when they made their move on you in the mall, we had to improvise the plan.”

“Improvise the plan? Well, that improvisation could’ve gotten both Cutter and me killed. Did you think of that?”

Denver shrugged. “It was a calculated risk, but we knew if we didn’t do everything possible to flush out our mole, more witnesses would be in danger every day. And there was the information your father had. We knew he was holding back. At least that’s what the top guns in the FBI believed. But Willie was cagey. No matter what bait or how much we offered, he wasn’t ready to deliver the goods against Dom until we could guarantee your safety.”

Kerry nodded. “And you couldn’t guarantee that until the mole was flushed.”

“Exactly. And Cutter was the perfect one to do it. Everybody in our office knew he was burned out. Everybody knew he was drinking too much. Hell, we couldn’t have worked it better.”

“Cutter was your best man.”

“Hell, he still is. I just wish I could convince him he doesn’t need to retire now he’s found the answers he needed. Now he’s cleared the cloud surrounding Helen’s death.”

Kerry thought for a moment.

“Well, I have to tell you I think you’ve had Cutter long enough. If he were to ask me, I’d tell him to get out and never look back. He’s given more than anyone has the right to ask of any man. He deserves the chance just to live a normal life.”

***

Now, six weeks later, Kerry watched her father drive down the little paved road leading to the main highway. Willie would go to Buffalo, then catch his flight to Washington and his new life.

Kerry sighed and turned to start her new life as well. She had wondered about Cutter a dozen times since they’d been split up for questioning after the Harris Hill incident, as the press had called it.

At first she’d been afraid to call, then she’d been terrified. Now she had no choice because she was certain there would be someone he deserved to know about in about thirty weeks.

She smiled at the thought.

She wasn’t going to use their child as a means to trap him. In fact, she’d made it crystal clear in the e-mail to him that she didn’t need or want his support. But she also didn’t want him to not know about his child. And she wanted him to know he would be a welcome part in his or her life—as much or as little—as he desired. She’d started to call him a dozen times.

Each time she picked up the phone she chickened out before she could dial his number. So e-mail had been her out. She wrote and rewrote it several times before hitting the send button.

Now all she had to do was wait. Wait and work. Because it seemed someone had submitted her drawings and story to a New York children’s publisher. They wanted to buy it and had called only yesterday with the offer of a contract. They also wanted to know if she had any other stories.

Yes, everything was going along just perfectly in her life.

Mostly.

So what if she cried herself to sleep every night? That would pass.

So what if, when she finally did fall asleep, she kept dreaming over and over of her hands bringing the rock down against Johnson’s head.

They weren’t the worst dreams she had when she slept.

The worst ones were when she dreamed that she had missed and she hadn’t been able to keep Johnson from killing Cutter. Those where the nightmares that sent her crawling from her bed, sweating and breathing like she’d run a marathon.

Her doctor had told her she needed to get plenty of rest, especially in these first few months, to insure she’d have a healthy pregnancy. She was going to do everything in her power to give this child the best possible start. If that meant forgetting about Cutter and her love for him, she’d do it. For their child.

She gently rubbed her stomach, though it was too early to feel anything, she felt this baby all the way into her heart. Yes, she’d do whatever was necessary for their son or daughter.

She was heading into the cottage when she heard the car approaching. She turned back and stood on the porch as the metallic green late-model sedan pulled sedately to a stop. The driver stayed where he was for a moment without removing his sun glasses. But Kerry already knew who it was. Cutter.

“Kerry,” he said, walking from the car to stand before her.

“Cutter.”

“I understand you’re all done with the government,” he said.

“Yes. They couldn’t thank me enough. In fact, I guess you could say, they’re the reason I’ve got a roof over my head.”

Cutter nodded. “That’s good.”

There was a moment of silence then they both spoke,

“How are you?” she asked.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

They laughed. The sound of Cutter’s rough chuckle sent a warm chill over her and produced a flutter in her abdomen.

“Oh,” she gasped, placing her hand protectively over her womb in reaction.

“What’s wrong? Are you sick?” Before she could respond, he rushed forward and pulled her into his arms. “Nobody said anything to me about you being sick. They should’ve told me.”

He was crossing the porch with her in his arms when she realized her arms had moved naturally around his neck. She felt wonderful, protected and wanted, in his arms.

“Cutter, I’m fine. Put me down.”

“No. If you’re sick, you should be in bed.”

“Cutter, please. I promise I’m not sick. I’m pregnant.”

His reaction was reassuring, if abrupt. He dropped her feet on the floor.

“Pregnant?” His gaze raked her from head to toe. “Batavia.”

“Yes.” Kerry smiled at the memory and lightly touched her stomach again. “Yes. Didn’t you get my e-mail?”

“No. I haven’t checked in days. And since I’m officially no longer a marshal, human resources took my phone,” Cutter said.

He picked her up again and carried her down the small hall and into the living room. With her still in his arms, he sat on the sofa and took her mouth in a kiss that touched her to her soul.

She gave him everything in her heart, and when his lips moved from her mouth down the line of her throat, she laid her head back against his shoulder, giving him greater access.

She moaned, wanting nothing more than to feel all of him as closely as possible.

As if reading her thoughts, he moved again, picking her up and carrying her to the bedroom.

He put her down on the bed and followed after her, resting one knee on the mattress, while keeping one foot on the floor.

Gently, slowly he removed first her top, sliding each button from its hole, revealing her skin inch by tantalizing inch. The heat of his gaze over her skin warmed her like the hottest fire. There had been some changes in her body since he’d last seen her naked. Her breasts were fuller, spilling over the top of her bra. Would he even notice? Would he approve?

When he lowered his mouth and stroked his tongue over the bra and across the sensitive flesh, she realized he had indeed noticed.

When she thought she couldn’t stand it one moment longer, he undid the front clasp of her bra and clasped first one, then the other breast in his palms, rubbing gently on the hardening nipple, massaging in circles from the tip to the outer edges.

Feeling her breath begin to clog in her lungs at the desire in his glittering gaze, she started to take a deep gulp. His lips fastening on her nipple and drawing her deeply into his mouth shattered all thoughts of breathing, thinking or doing anything other than feeling.

“Cutter,” she moaned. “Please, please.”

“Oh, I definitely intend to please. Not just you, but me as well.” He moved away from her, and she barely held back her cry of protest.

He undressed quickly, and she saw the overwhelming evidence of his desire and rejoiced in it.

She started to remove the remainder of her clothes, but he stopped her.

“Let me,” he said.

He walked to the end of the bed and took her foot in his hand. He untied her sneakers and stripped her white anklet off. Then he massaged her foot, stroking a finger down the bottom of her foot all the way from her toes to her heel. Then he brought her foot to his mouth and gently sucked, then nipped at each toe.

Kerry had never known her foot was so sensitive. But it seemed as if every nerve in her body ended there. She felt the need to feel him inside her grow dangerously high.

Finally, he stopped his ministrations on her foot. Kerry opened her arms to welcome him into her heat. But he didn’t join her, just moved his lips slowly up her calf, spending an eternity kissing, biting, then healing the back of her knee. By the time he reached the apex of her thighs, she was writhing with desire.

“Do you know how amazing you are to me?” he asked. “Do you know I will never, ever love anyone like I do you?”

Kerry felt her heart burst with joy. She wanted to tell him how much she loved him, but when he pulled her body to his mouth and gave her the most intimate of kisses, her climax drained her of all thought, all will, leaving only feelings so intense she wept.

***

Hours later they lay entwined, enjoying the shared body warmth and afterglow of their shared love.