No Time to Hide (4 page)

“Yes. I had to check-in with my boss. You know, keeping good citizens like you safe isn’t just a one-man job.”

Her brow furrowed. Cutter ignored the little tug inside that urged him to apologize for his flip remark. He hadn’t done anything wrong. He wasn’t being paid to be nice to her.

“Of course,” she said. “Is there any news about the man in the mall?”

“Nothing you need to worry about,” he answered. He could see the pad clearly now. It was obviously a drawing. Maybe a cartoon, since she was also writing words with it. “I missed you. Thought maybe you’d decided to skip on me.”

“What? Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you heard me say I was going to shower and come in here,” she said.

“No. That’s okay.” Damn. How had he slipped so much that he hadn’t even heard her leaving the room before? It really was time for him to get out of the business. They’re going to try and get us some fresh clothes and stuff ASAP. Although, since you changed, you probably don’t need them as much as I do.”

She blushed a bit. “Oh, I got into the habit of carrying some extra stuff with me just in case. I’ve had to leave quickly too many times to not be prepared. I was a Girl Scout, you know.”

He smiled and tried to soften the next bit. “Now the bad news is they are having a little more trouble with the new identity.”

The smile snuffed out. Cutter tamped down on the ridiculous urge to apologize again. Or to lie and say anything that would turn the light on again.

Kerry sighed and, putting her sketchpad down on the bed, got up and arched her back and shoulders as if she was easing tight muscles. Her movements pulled the thin white tee she was wearing tightly across her chest. Cutter wondered if she was wearing a bra under that shirt. A thought he squelched immediately, knowing it wasn’t healthy or wise considering their situation. He told himself he wasn’t disappointed when she finally left the bedroom and returned to the main room where he’d been working. He followed her.

“Why?” she asked.

“Well, it seems some friends of your family have a website posted with your picture and every disguise we’ve tried. They’ve posted a reward of ten million dollars for either information on your whereabouts or anyone finding you.” He paused. “Dead or alive.”

Kerry sank down on the sofa, one of only two chairs in the cabin’s great room. “Ten million dollars?”

“That’s right. I guess that’s what happens when you piss off the Giancarlo family.”

“Oh…Dom.” She was silent for a moment, then sighed. “I guess you’re wondering why I got engaged to him, aren’t you?”

“Frankly, yes.”

“Most of the time, I do too.” She released what sounded like a weighty sigh. “Let’s just say it seemed like a good idea at the time.”

Cutter waited for more of an explanation, but when she didn’t say anything else, he sat heavily on the sagging recliner.

“Look, if you know something that’ll help us, now would be the time to spill it. We’ve got all the manpower we can spare on your case, but if there’s something you know, say the word. I’m sure the Feebs will be happy to get involved again.”

“Don’t you think I’ve tried to come up with something, anything? I just don’t know anything else.”

He heard the agitation in her voice. Ignoring the desire to go to her, pull her into his arms and comfort her, was much harder than it should have been.

“Whatever,” he said. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve got better things to do than sit around here indefinitely.”

“What? Coaching baseball?”

“I hear skepticism in your voice.”

“What do you expect? You come on to me in the mall, acting like you’re just a regular person when in reality you’re…”

“What?”

“A cop.”

“Hey, lady, I don’t think I like the way you say cop. And I’m a marshal. A United States Marshal.”

“Do you think it matters to me what you like or don’t,
Marshal
?” She put the emphasis on marshal as if it was slightly unclean.

“I’m sure it doesn’t, but I’ll tell you this. If you don’t want to become another statistic, you’d better look at me, and everyone in my department, as your new best friends. Because when it comes down to it, we’re all that stands between you and young Dom. And I promise you, he won’t be happy to see you.”

When his words didn’t seem to make an impression, he started to leave. He didn’t have to put up with this, for God’s sake. He was retiring. He should call Denver and get a replacement here right now. Or switch off duties with Johnson. He’d turned to tell her his plans when he noticed she was pacing. When she stopped, she rocked back-and-forth in place. The lady was nervous all right. She should be.

Dominic Giancarlo was a man with a hair-trigger temper and the cold calculation to do whatever it took to get what he wanted. He had all the money and muscle of one of the most powerful syndicates in the world at his beck and call. The fact was, even if she’d told them everything, Cutter knew there was only so much they could do to protect this lady. Hell, there was only so much the entire service could do. He felt the burning in his gut intensify.

Why couldn’t this last case have been a simple job of babysitting?

Saturday, 4 P.M.

Kerry rummaged around in the pretty, but small kitchen. She was getting very hungry and she was looking forward to cooking for someone other than herself, even if it was a man who didn’t bother to hide his disdain of her.

Whoever managed the upkeep of this cabin had stocked it for the long haul. There were egg substitute, canned milk, and butter. There was flour, sugar, soda, and flavorings. There were plenty of frozen and canned fruits and vegetables.

Kerry thought for a moment, then looked through the cabinets and came up with a newer looking set of pots and pans. Before long, she had everything moving along to her satisfaction. In another life, another time, she’d wanted to attend culinary school and be a chef. That was hard to do when you never knew how long you’d be staying anywhere.

She was sure Cutter, being what he was, was used to fast food. Well, she wasn’t. And she didn’t intend to start getting used to it. Not as long as she had the opportunity to cook her own meals.

A little under a half-hour later, she turned out perfectly browned western-styled omelets onto two plates she had warmed in the oven. She was slicing sourdough bread to complete the meal as Cutter strode in from the great room.

“Wow, I thought I smelled something, but I thought you’d gone into your room. This looks great.”

“Thank you. I hope you don’t have an aversion to eggs or dairy products.” She tried to smile at him. This was to be her peace offering. Although she hadn’t been very gracious to Cutter, she was trying to show him that she appreciated what he was doing for her.

“No, no allergies. But you really didn’t have to go to this trouble. I’m sure there were some frozen dinners we could’ve nuked.”

Kerry felt a blush heat her face. “It wasn’t any trouble. I like to cook.”

“I’ll clean up then,” Cutter said, sitting on one of the two ladder-backed wooden chairs at the heavy wood table. Kerry ran a hand quickly over the smooth, worn tabletop before joining him.

She ate sparingly, but enjoyed watching Cutter tear into his food. It was her own special thrill watching someone enjoy her cooking. Maybe it was because cooking was something totally new to her. Something her old life couldn’t ever touch. Something she’d given herself the first time she’d tried to break the chain between her old life and the life she devoutly believed waited somewhere for her.

Although she had dozens of recipes in her apartment back in Amherst, she had only experimented on herself. She didn’t have any friends in town to invite over for a meal. In fact, since she’d gone into the program, she hadn’t had any friends anywhere.

Today’s experiment in the mall had been part of a long-range plan. If things had gone well there, she was going to sign up for a cooking class at her favorite supermarket. She had believed it would be the perfect way to learn something new and perhaps meet some people.

That would have to be forgotten now as well. The panic started to swell when she realized how unlikely it was going to be that she would ever be able to lead a normal life. She clamped down on the self-defeating thoughts. She needed to focus on something else. Cutter was that something.

She watched his hands as he used the plain, sturdy silverware. That’s what his hands were too—plain, sturdy, dependable.

Kerry shook her head slightly. There was no way “dependable” should be included in her thoughts about his hands or him. He was the law. Which was only slightly better than the “made” people of her father’s world when it came to using people to get what they wanted. So why did she have the feeling this was one man she could trust?

When Cutter finished, he leaned back and patted his stomach. “That tasted good. I’ve only had an omelet done like that in restaurants. But it was better than I remembered.”

“Thank you. I found the recipe online. It called for green chilies, olives, and Monterey Jack cheese to give it a little zip. I like it spicy, but I was afraid I might have been a little heavy-handed for you.”

“Nah, I love those little green devils. I’d put ’em on everything if I could.”

Kerry relaxed a little and took a bite of her food. “Do you eat out a lot with your job?”

“Yeah, I guess I do. It’s easier than cooking for one. And I don’t have a lot of time. First I was going to class trying to get my teaching certificate, then my coaching credentials. Then this past spring, I got the job coaching the team. That didn’t leave a lot of time for meal planning and stuff.”

“You mean that stuff about coaching a baseball team wasn’t just a…well, you know?”

“A come-on? No. I really do coach a baseball team. Only part-time now, but starting this fall, that’s going to change.”

“How does your wife feel about you leaving the government?” She paused when Cutter didn’t immediately answer. “I’m sorry, that’s really none of my business.

“No, that’s okay. I’m not married now so it doesn’t matter.”

Kerry was silent for a moment. She started to ask more questions, but the closed look on his face stopped her. He was probably right. The less she knew about him, the better. He had said she should think of him and anyone in his department as her new best friends. She couldn’t do that. Not with men who thought of her as a job at best and, at worst, a snitch. They never said that to her, but she could see it in their eyes. They didn’t trust her. She supposed it was only fair. She didn’t trust them. Not anymore.

There was the true rub in her life. She had no one to trust. She couldn’t turn to the few friends she’d had a lifetime ago. They had been part of her father and Dom’s world. Going back to that was not, could never be, an option.

The reality of her life was there was no one she could truly trust. Not even herself.

***

Saturday, 5 P.M.

Cutter didn’t know who would be the best president. Hell, he didn’t even know who would be the best head of his own soon-to-be-ex-department. He did know Kerry Simpson wasn’t what he’d expected.

According to all the information in her files, Kerry should have been making this detail a nightmare. Instead, once she’d gotten over the initial surprise at finding out what he was and that he knew who she was, she couldn’t have been easier to get along with. She’d cooked an excellent meal and hadn’t complained once about the boring waiting around time they were dealing with now. Neither of these actions fit the woman he’d expected.

She was a daughter of the mob, used to having everything in life handed to her on a silver platter. And she had been the fiancée of the young man who already had a reputation as a merciless killer. The kind of woman produced from that environment should have been either complaining incessantly or snapping to his every order, afraid to make any waves.

Cutter looked at Kerry and felt something inside him tighten. She was a beautiful woman. From the reddish-gold, sleekly-styled hair that brushed gently against the back of her slender white neck to the tiny waist even the bulky T-shirt couldn’t disguise, everything about her was shouting “come get me,” and no male alive could resist the call. Heck,  even her pink-tipped toes had the ability to send his testosterone into a high-speed, ready to lock and load wake-up mode. Only the bullets his body wanted to fire didn’t have anything to do with guns.

He tore his gaze away from the appendages in question and tried to remember all the reasons he really should dislike Kerry Simpson. Once
en famille
, as the movie-makers liked to call it, there was no getting out. And there was no question that Kerry Simpson had been as
en famille
as you could get, being the daughter of one of the most trusted hit men the syndicate had utilized and then the fiancée of the heir apparent.

This Kerry, walking around like a co-ed on the weekend, wasn’t anything like that. This Kerry was a puzzle, and that’s the last thing he wanted, needed, or trusted.

In the old days, when he and Helen had been young rookies full of idealism and vigor, there was nothing he’d liked better than a puzzle. They would spend hours working through the elements, secure as only the young can be that the answer would solve everything. Working, laughing, and loving to solve any puzzle tossed their way. It had been the best of times. With the arrogance of inexperience, he’d believed they could do that forever.

Now, at thirty-eight and having buried his wife, best friend, and unborn child all in one casket, he knew the truth. The answers only brought more questions and the lines between black and gray were forever blurred. Just like the face of his wife was becoming.

“This is crazy,” he muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’ve got to get out of here.”

Kerry whirled around and smiled, making him realize he’d spoken aloud. “Can we? Can we leave for just a little while?”

He started to tell her he hadn’t been speaking about their situation. He opened his mouth to tell her it had nothing to do with her. Something, maybe it was a hope Cutter knew shouldn’t be there in her eyes, made him change his mind.

Cutter knew what the rulebook said. On a job it had been his bible. But her sparkling eyes made him want to forget all the rules. About everything.

“Okay.” He spoke slowly, analyzing the angles in his mind. It should be okay. Their perimeter was sound. There had been no unsecured contact with the outside world. “Tonawanda Creek’s at the edge of this property. Let’s take a ride.”

“Give me two shakes to get some shoes and I’ll be ready.” Kerry spun and rushed from the room.

Cutter told himself his gaze didn’t linger on the way the shirt faithfully molded the flare of her hips. Just as he told himself the best thing to do was to take a dive into the creek. Maybe, just maybe, that would cool him off.

He heard the door to Kerry’s room shut and then she was back. Her feet were encased in the same pair of sneakers she’d worn to the mall. She was putting her sketch pad in her humongous bag. He hid his grin at the sight. There was nothing the least bit sophisticated about her now. She looked like a college kid heading for a Saturday in the park.

“You know, we’re only going to be gone a few minutes,” he said. “You don’t have to take all your belongings.”

She smiled and it lit her eyes. He felt it all the way to his core. “I told you before. I’m not the brightest lamp on the planet, but I do learn my lessons. I go nowhere without my bag.”

He heaved a heavy sigh as if she was driving him crazy. Frankly, he enjoyed teasing her. But before he enjoyed it too much, he put them back on the business track.

“Fine, bring it,” he said. “Now here are the ground rules. First, you stay in the house until I say ‘all clear.’ Then we only stay by the creek for a little while. When I say it’s time to go, that’s it. This is a remote section of the county, but hunters and fishermen may be out in this area. We don’t want anyone to get a look at you. Do you understand?”

“In other words, you’re the boss.”

“Right.”

“No problem.”

“Remember, don’t leave this house until you hear me say ‘all clear.’ Right?”

“Roger, captain.” Kerry gave a snappy little salute that made Cutter smile.

“Marshal will do just fine,” he said.

Her smile grew more, nearly blinding him with its brightness. “Roger, Marshal.”

After taking a quick peek at the screens in the hall that showed the perimeter monitored by motion-sensor cameras, Cutter moved her so she couldn’t be seen by anyone when he opened the front door. He didn’t think he could stand being alone and cooped up with her another minute without doing something he was going to regret. Still, it wouldn’t do to be careless. He stepped out on the porch, letting the sounds of insects and birds settle around him, then watched for anything indicating their security had been broken. After a few moments, he stepped back inside, checked to make sure he had the remote that allowed him to read all the security warnings around the place, then took Kerry’s hand and led her to the SUV, trying to ignore the how it felt to touch her hand again. When they had been wandering around in the mall it had felt so natural walking beside her, not quite touching, yet the desire to do so running in a strong, almost electrical current between them. For a minute, maybe two, he wanted them to be nothing more than a couple going on a picnic. They were not a couple, couldn’t be. Not for one second.

He drove in the opposite direction from the way they’d come in, heading over a rough dirt road that led to the creek. They were only about two hundred yards from the cabin when the sound of a helicopter flying low and fast penetrated the SUV. At that same moment, the pager-like security remote started emitting high-pitched screeches, signaling things had gone from sugar to shit in less than a heartbeat.

“What’s that?” Kerry cried.

“Hold on,” was Cutter’s only answer as he floored the accelerator and turned the SUV into the woods and away from the track. Seconds later he heard the whine of a rocket launcher. In his rearview mirror he saw the cabin that only moments before had been their refuge, explode into hundreds of pieces. The helicopter rose slightly before turning, as if seeking something more, spraying bullets from a mounted machine gun as it rotated one hundred-eighty degrees around the clearing.

“Fasten your seat belt. Get down and stay down. This isn’t going to be pretty,” Cutter said. He heard the ping of something ricocheting into the truck followed by a tiny sound from Kerry. He could see the tiny hole in the rear window. “Shit, I think that was just a lucky shot. I don’t think they’re really shooting at us. I hope they haven’t actually seen us.”