Running for Her Life (16 page)

“What’s going on?” Jake asked.

“We had a flat tire,” she said. “This gentleman offered to get me a glass of water.”

Right. And Jake was Batman.

More than ever, he appreciated her brains. She wanted both of them to get out of there without trouble. If the man didn’t think either Tara or he represented a threat, then it might just work.

“That’s right neighborly but since I’m here, I’ll take you home.”

“Sure,” she said. She flashed the man a quick smile. “Thanks for your help,” she said.

Jake watched as she slid off the seat. She walked toward his truck, limping.

The bastard had hurt her. Jake lifted his gun.

Tara’s eyes stopped him. She stared at him, gave him the slightest shake of her head and kept walking. The man continued to stand next to his truck, watching her every step. When she opened the door and got in, Jake could see the light sheen of perspiration on her forehead. “Drive,” she said softly. “Please just get me out of here.”

He didn’t waste any time. He’d deal with the man later. First, he’d make sure Tara stayed safe. Jake turned the truck around and drove out of the lane, his eyes on the rearview mirror. The man by the truck didn’t move.

When they got on the highway, headed back to Wyattville, Jake shifted his focus to Tara. What he saw shook him up. Big tears rolled down her face.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he said. He laid his gun in his lap and stuck his arm out across the back of the seat, pulling her toward him. She scooted over, burying her face against his shoulder.

“I need to know one thing,” he said, barely able to say the words. “Did he hurt you?” he asked. “In any way?”

“No.” Her reply, muffled yet strong, kept him from turning the truck around and killing the man.

“What happened to your leg?”

“Nothing.”

“Honey, you limped all the way to my truck.”

“I know,” she said and then she started to cry in earnest. Big sobs, making her slight body shake. Jake tightened his hold around her. He wanted to pull off, to rock her in his arms, but he didn’t. He’d wait until he got her home, safe inside her house.

By the time he pulled into her driveway, she’d stopped crying. She just lay heavily against his shoulder, like all the life had been drained out of her. “We’re home,” he said, shifting a little in the seat so that he almost cradled her in his arms. “Are you okay?” he asked. With the tip of his finger, he tilted her chin up and looked at her face. Her small brown freckles looked stark against the paleness of her skin. Her eyes and nose were red, and tear streaks stained her cheeks. Wisps of her strawberry-blond hair, wet with tears, clung to her face.

He took his free hand and tucked her hair behind her ears. With the pad of his thumb, he traced the tear streaks.

She sighed, her sweet pink lips parting just slightly.

He bent down.

She lifted her chin just enough.

He kissed her. And when she wrapped both arms around his neck, pulling him closer, pushing her breasts up against his chest, he thought he might never stop kissing her.

She tasted salty and hot, and he wanted her with a fierceness that he couldn’t describe or control. But for her sake, he needed to.

“Tara,” he said, pulling away from her. “I don’t want to stop but we have to. I need to know what happened tonight.”

She stilled, her eyes open wide. She ran her tongue over her incredible bottom lip, the lip still wet from his kisses, and he almost caved. God, he wanted her. But her safety came first.

She shifted in her seat and her dress rode up, showing another few inches of silky, soft skin. He swallowed hard.

“We had car trouble. A flat tire,” she said, her voice very soft. “Unfortunately, he didn’t have a spare tire. We were going to call a tow truck, but my cell didn’t work and his phone wasn’t charged. He offered to walk toward a farmhouse to get help. Shortly after he left, the man you saw stopped and offered me a ride. He said he lived up the road with his wife and daughter.”

“What happened when you got to his house?”

“When I didn’t see Jim, I got a weird feeling. I just knew I didn’t want to go inside the house with him. So I pretended I’d turned my ankle. That’s when you drove up.”

It sounded right. But not exactly right. He’d seen the panic in her eyes and heard the fear in her voice. She’d been scared to death of the man.

“He didn’t do or say anything else?”

“No.”

“He didn’t threaten you?”

“No. Look, I probably overreacted, and I’m sorry if I scared you.”

Yeah, he’d been scared. Now he was getting angry. “What’s going on here, Tara?”

“Exactly what I said. I got into a strange man’s truck and when it looked like it was going to turn out bad, I got scared. He might be a nice guy who lives with his family and right now he thinks I’m a nut.”

Right. She didn’t believe that any more than he did. “What about Waller? Where does he fit into all this?”

She shrugged. “I’m not sure,” she said, turning to look out her window.

“Tara,” he spoke softly, “I think it’s time you tell me what’s going on. Crazy stuff keeps happening. Tonight, something else. I don’t know what, quite yet, but something. I want to know who is trying to hurt you and I want to know why.”

She bit the inside corner of her lip. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She was lying. But why?

* * *

T
ARA WANTED TO TELL
J
AKE
everything. But it was such a crazy mess. Was it possible that there was a connection between Waller and Michael? She knew Michael’s family was involved in banking back East. Had Michael promised Waller a prestigious job somewhere? Maybe Waller looked forward to kicking the dust of Wyattville off his feet? Maybe she was his ticket out of town?

It was all starting to make sense. The unexpected invitation. Waller’s flat tire but no spare. At the time, she’d been so irritated with Jim and so relieved that the evening might end early, that she hadn’t questioned his lack of preparedness. But this was a man who always stacked his silverware on his plate after he finished eating. He folded his napkin twice, laying it squarely on top. Then he drained his water glass, setting it just above the dirty plate, exactly in the middle.

She’d never seen him without an umbrella on a rainy day. His shoes were always shined. He defined
anal-retentive.
He wasn’t the type to drive a car without a spare tire. Certainly not the type to have an uncharged cell phone. This guy didn’t even have the guts to order ham or tuna fish. He stuck with turkey. It was safe.

She only really knew one thing for sure. It was the same thing she’d known fourteen months ago. She needed to rely on herself. She wouldn’t lose sight of that. It had saved her once. It would save her again.

“I’m tired,” she said. “I want to go inside.”

* * *

J
AKE OPENED HIS DOOR
and almost kicked the truck when he got out. He hadn’t been this frustrated for a very long time, maybe since that day years ago when he’d come home and found his brother wallowing in self-pity and vodka.

He’d bullied his brother with brute strength. That wasn’t the solution with Tara.

Maybe she didn’t know anything, Jake speculated. Maybe she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Jake had a lot of questions and very few answers. It was time for that to change.

“I’m going to call Andy and have him look for Waller.”

Her chin jerked up. “Why?”

“Because the last you know, he was walking along a highway. He hasn’t been seen or heard from. I’m the chief of police, Tara. I have a responsibility to find him.”

She looked at her watch. “It’s only been a little over an hour since Jim and I left Nel’s. It’s not as if he’s been missing for days.”

Jake shrugged. He didn’t care. Maybe he’d overstated his duty but he wanted to talk to Waller. The sooner the better. “I’m also going to Chase’s house to get my stuff.”

“What?”

“My stuff. I’m moving in.”

She stared at him. “I didn’t realize I’d advertised for a roommate. I’ll have to call the newspaper and have them check that.”

Sarcasm did not become her. And he’d have been even madder if he hadn’t heard the underlying fear that had been in her voice since he’d picked her up at the farmhouse.

“I’m going now so that I can be back here before it gets dark.”

“I don’t want you here.”

“Tough. Until I figure out what’s going on, I’m your shadow. Like it or not, I’m your best protection. I’ve got a gun and I know how to use it.”

“I don’t need your gun. I can take care of myself.”

Interesting. She hadn’t said he was overreacting or that he was making a mountain out of a molehill. What she’d said was that she could take care of herself.

“I believe you,” he said. “You’re smart and just stubborn enough that you probably can take care of yourself. But I promised Chase that I’d take care of his town, his friends. I am not going to let something happen that I could have prevented. I won’t.”

“So you’re doing this for Chase?”

“Yes,” he said, proving that he was as big a liar as his partner had ever been. But if he told Tara the truth, that it would kill him if anything happened to her, she’d think he was crazy. And she certainly wouldn’t feel comfortable having him in her home. “Give me your key. I’ll check the house.”

She handed it to him, not saying another word. She waited while he unlocked the door and did a quick search inside. When he returned to the living room, she had her back up against the far wall, like a cat scared of a big dog.

It felt as if his breath was trapped in his chest. Maybe he wasn’t bullying her with brute strength, but he was bullying her just the same.

It didn’t matter. He’d do what it took to keep her safe. “Lock the door after me.”

Chapter Twelve

He was back in less than thirty minutes. She’d spent the time trying to figure out what to do next.

When he’d said that she was moving in, her first thought had been
Thank God.
She’d felt compelled to protest, but when he hadn’t backed down, she’d given up the fight pretty easily.

It was weak and needy on her part, but the stakes had gotten higher tonight. Ever since the baseball had been thrown through her window and she’d contemplated the possibility that Michael might have found her, she’d been on edge. She’d always been vigilant with her safety, but since then she’d been supervigilant. But there was a price to be paid for that.

She felt most vulnerable at night. When she slept, it was with one ear tuned to hear any unusual noise. As a result, she was tired, almost exhausted. She never felt truly relaxed. Her routine had been disrupted. Heck, she was afraid to take a shower, afraid to be naked and unprotected in her own house. And after tonight, she was more scared than ever. Joanna Travis, aka Tara Thompson, had never been a fool, and it would have been foolish to turn down protection.

He was doing it because he wouldn’t let his friend down. That hurt. She could admit that. But it was for the best. There was no future for her and Jake. Never had been.

Jake had a suitcase in one hand and four plastic grocery sacks in the other. On the way to the spare bedroom, he dropped the groceries on the kitchen counter.

When he came back to the kitchen, he double-checked the doors and the windows and started unpacking groceries. What the hell was he doing?

“I don’t think either one of us got dinner tonight,” he said. “I hope you like pizza.”

“Yes,” she said, somewhat reluctantly. “I love it.”

“Excellent. We agree on something.” He didn’t smile but at least he didn’t sound as angry as before.

“When I’m in Minneapolis,” he continued, “I have pizza at least once a week. I’m going through carbohydrate withdrawal here.”

She appreciated the fact that he was trying to bring some normalcy to a very unusual night. She could make an effort, too. “Please tell me there are no anchovies on this special pizza.”

“No. I’m a pizza purista. None of this new fad stuff like spinach and pineapple and who knows what else. I like sausage, pepperoni, mushrooms, onions and black olives.”

“How about tomatoes?”

He rubbed his chin. “I don’t know. That would be stepping outside my comfort zone.”

“Please?”

“Fine. But don’t tell anyone.”

When he got the dough rolled out and it covered a large baking sheet, she asked, “Exactly how much pizza are we fixing?”

He shrugged. “I like it cold the next day. How are you feeling?”

“Stop worrying about me,” she said, exasperated.

“Okay. Then start chopping.”

It took them another thirty minutes to grate the cheese and prepare the other ingredients. Finally, Jake stuck the pizza in the oven and set the timer. Then he pulled out a bottle of red wine from one of the grocery bags.

He uncorked it and poured it into two wineglasses that he found in the cupboard. He handed her one.

“I didn’t expect wine,” she admitted, already drawn in by the heady aroma.

“My pizza deserves this. Come on. Now we sit, drink a little vino and listen to the sauce bubble.”

He made it sound so innocent.

She sat on one end of the couch, he sat a respectable three feet away, at the other end. She took a sip of wine, then another. “This is very nice,” she said. The muscles in her neck felt a little less tight. They could do this. They could have conversation, a little wine, some dinner.

They sat, both lost in their thoughts, until the buzz of the oven timer interrupted them.

He stood up. “Tonight we drink wine, eat pizza until we burst and then sing songs from old Italian movies.”

“Do you know any songs from Italian movies?”

He offered her his hand. “That hasn’t stopped me in the past.”

They had finished their pizza and were cleaning up when they heard the knock on Tara’s front door. Jake held up one finger, moved over to the window, lifted the lace curtain just a fraction of an inch and looked outside.

“Waller,” he whispered.

She nodded. Jake opened the door.

“Hello. I’m looking for Tara,” Waller said.