Time to Run (3 page)

Chase unfolded it, took note of the pertinent information—place and time—and handed it back.

"I can't help you," he repeated.

He knew exactly when his message got through. She blinked and turned her face.

He felt like he'd slapped her.
Jesus.

He glanced at her son, who'd buried his Converse tennis shoes completely under the mulch.

Shit.
Why would she want to leave her privileged lifestyle unless Captain Garret abused both of them?

"There's gotta be an advocacy group that can help you," he insisted quietly. He willed himself to stand up and walk away.

She still wouldn't look at him. Her face was a mask, with tear-bright eyes made of jade. She'd probably exhausted all her options. She didn't strike him as the type to act impulsively, to solicit the help from a perfect stranger.

"Good luck," he told her, not knowing what else to say. He put his hands on his knees and pushed to his feet.

He wished she'd look up at him or at least acknowledge his refusal, but she didn't.

He felt subtly reprimanded, like he had no right to let her down.

With a scowl, he walked away, determined not to feel guilty. He got into his car and slammed the door shut. What the hell did she expect of him? It would ruin his career if he was caught stealing away a JAG officer's wife and kid. His career was all he had.

Sorry, but he couldn't do it, regardless of Sara's strange pull on him. He'd never let a woman get under his skin before. He wasn't about to start now.

Sara dragged her heels. Hiking along the edge of a marsh was pointless when Chief McCaffrey had made it clear he wasn't going to be here. If it weren't for Kendal, who'd loved nature since he was a baby, she would just as soon have stayed home. And unless Kendal managed to muster some enthusiasm himself, this tramp through the woods amounted to wasted time.

Three cars had been parked in the overflow parking lot, and none of them were Chase's. She'd seen what he drove yesterday—an older blue sports car that was probably halfway to Oklahoma already.

She couldn't blame him for not wanting to get involved. Who would, when Garret had made a reputation for securing some of the harshest sentences in naval history?

And yet ... she'd expected better from Chase. After all, he'd taken care of her twice in the past, why not this time?

In a moment of foolish optimism, she'd even stuffed her backpack with everything they needed, just in case he did show up: toothbrushes saved from a dentist visit, eight hundred and three dollars, plus a change of clothing for both her and Kendal.

She regretted that impulse. What if Garret, ever suspicious, delved into the contents of her bag? He'd guess her intent to flee in an instant. He'd never let them out of his sight again.

She shivered, clinging to her secret, desperate to relieve the tension building inside of her. She'd sworn to herself that she and Kendal would never suffer another one of Garret's consequences. But unless she found a way to flee, and flee soon, it was inevitable.

Down a tree-shaded foot trail, she plodded. Wasn't there any way to Texas that couldn't be traced? Public transportation was not an option, not in this post-9
/
11 era, when even bus stations were equipped with video monitors.

If only Chief Chase McCaffrey could have plucked them from Garret's world and taken them to another! It had seemed like providence that he'd blown into her life when she most needed him. Nothing so promising would ever come her way again.

With a blind eye for the flora and fauna Sara trailed seven boys and their Scout leader down a steep ravine. Up the other side they climbed, on steps created by underlying roots. At the crest of the hill, she and Kendal paused, while the others rushed pell-mell toward the swathe of marshland below, eager to spot wildlife but more likely to frighten it away.

The sulfuric tang of mudflats commingled with the fresh-scented breeze. Weighted with depression, they followed the others more sedately.

When they arrived at the bridge that spanned a snaking creek, the others were far ahead. In the quiet lull, Sara discerned the cry of an osprey and looked up.

What would she give to be free like that bird? Free of Garret's unrelenting expectations.

But the sun beat down, and the backpack bit into her shoulders, reminding her that she was earthbound.

Kendal stopped in his tracks, and Sara stumbled into him. "Honey, what—"

"Look, Mom."

His request had her peering down the glinting stream. To her astonishment, there was Chief McCaffrey paddling toward them in a camouflaged canoe.

"He was at the park last night," Kendal said, proving he was more observant than he'd let on.

Chase's hot blue gaze captured Sara's startled one. He'd come after all. God in heaven, he'd actually come for them! Disbelief, relief, then urgency stormed her sensibilities.

"Mom, what's going on?"

They were still alone on the bridge, the others far ahead. With a swish of his paddle, the SEAL maneuvered the canoe alongside them. "Jump in," he said.

"Mom?"

She rushed to explain. "Remember when I told you that I had a plan, Kendal? That we were leaving?"

He darted a stunned look at Chase.

"This is it," she confirmed. "We're leaving now. Get in the boat, sweetheart. Hurry!"

Sara threw a leg over the rail.

But Kendal didn't move. He looked back and forth between her and the stranger. "Who is he?" he wanted to know.

"He's a Navy SEAL," she answered. "He can protect us. Kendal, please get in the boat."

The scowl on Chief McCaffrey's face could have dissuaded even the most fearless individual. "We can't miss this chance, sweetheart!" Sara pleaded, her heart pounding. "Hurry, before the others come back."

Her urgency finally galvanized him. Kendal scrambled over the railing, stepping down into the boat before she'd thrown a second leg over.

"Sit on the bottom," Chase instructed him.

Sara took that cue to position herself on the front seat.

No sooner were they in the boat than Chase launched them into the current. Stabbing his paddle into the stream, he swept them around the bend, taking them quickly out of view of the bridge. The tide was low, and the marsh provided concealment.

A cooling breeze dried the sweat on Sara's upper lip. She glanced back at Kendal, who gripped both sides of the boat, his eyes wide and disbelieving. Behind him, their unlikely rescuer, wearing a baseball cap and cutoff T-shirt, kept a steady stroke on the paddle.

She wanted to thank him, only the frown wedged between his eyebrows kept her mute.

Her heart pattered with hope and fear. She glanced down at the ring pinched between her fourth finger and the canoe's edge. If she didn't think she might need to pawn it one day, she'd take it off right now.

They kept close to the mudflats, moving with such stealth that she could hear fiddler crabs scuttling between the reeds. A blue heron froze on one leg as they glided by.

Sara was just beginning to breathe more easily when they came across a pier and a lone fisherman. He lifted his gaze from a crab pot to greet them.

Chase pulled the bill of his baseball cap down as he nodded back. Plunging his paddle deeper, he whisked them out of the stranger's sight.

It seemed an interminable amount of time before the canoe eased toward a forested shore. The SEAL drove the prow onto land and wedged the paddle into the mud to keep it there. "Hop out," he invited.

Sara clambered out. She held the canoe to keep it from wobbling as Kendal, then Chase followed suit. The bark of a dog drew her gaze to a black Lab sitting in a familiar sports car, parked beneath the trees.

Chase pulled the canoe ashore and flipped it over. "Stand back." With that brief warning, he delivered a swift kick to the underside, leaving a gaping hole. In a brisk, forceful move, he shoved the boat back into the cove, where it started to sink.

"Let's go," he said, heading toward the car. He opened the passenger door and flipped the seat forward. "You'll have to sit with the dog," he said to Kendal. "Back, Jesse."

Kendal dove into the cramped rear seat. "Hey, boy."

As Sara dropped into the front seat, Chase rounded the car to take the wheel. "Buckle up."

With competence and speed that had her holding her breath, he backed them down the rutted track. They came to a clearing, where he reversed direction. And then they took off again.

The dirt track turned into a gravel one before spitting them out into the overflow parking lot. "I used to fish back there," he explained in response to her wondering look.

That was why he knew about the cove, why he'd chosen it as a remote spot to get her into his car without witnesses. She shrank down in her seat, reluctant to be seen by the handful of visitors getting in and out of their vehicles.

Leaving the park, they merged smoothly into the traffic on Shore Drive. Sara sat up straighter and wiped her palms on her shorts.

"Hope you've got everything you need in there," Chase commented, darting a look at her backpack.

"Yes," she said, relieved that she'd planned for the unlikely.

He switched gears. "So, what made you think I'd even show up?" he demanded. The question betrayed an element of self-directed anger.

"I don't know. I just couldn't accept the alternative, I guess."

That answer earned her a conjecturing look.

She glanced back at Kendal. "Oh, honey, you didn't put your seat belt on."

"The dog's sitting on it."

"Jesse, scoot," Chase commanded, and the dog immediately made room.

Mother and son shared a look. The SEAL sure had his dog well trained. Kendal fastened his seat belt with a
click.

It was then that the full impact of their departure hit Sara. Mr. Hale, the Boy Scout leader, was probably frantic right now, wondering what had happened to them. The authorities would soon be notified, then Garret. There was no going back now.

"We're not going to stop anywhere, are we?" she asked on a note that betrayed her fear.

"No," he said. Accelerating, he swept them up an exit ramp onto the highway that would lead them north and west, toward the Blue Ridge Mountains and beyond. In just three hours, or so, they'd be in the western half of Virginia, far from the search that would be taking place for them at Seashore State Park. She would breathe a whole lot easier then.

"Do you think that fisherman is going to be a problem?" she asked beneath her breath.

To her deepening concern, Chase didn't answer right away. "He wasn't there when I approached the rendezvous point. If he had been, I would have turned around."

In which case, she never would have known that he'd intended to rescue her, after all.

"Thank you," she murmured, thinking those two words fell woefully short. "I promise you won't... regret it," she added, forcing those words through a tight throat.

She was certain that he'd heard her, but he didn't answer. It was probably too late, and he probably already did.

For the next four hours, very little was said. The radio kept up a steady barrage of music and advertising. The highway unraveled before them like an endless, asphalt ribbon.

Chasing the sun westward, they arrived, at last, at the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains, where the cooler clime had already turned the trees to crimson and gold. The setting sun lit the peaks of the mountains in a blaze of color.

"Gotta love the mountains," Chase finally said, breaking the silence.

"Yes," Sara agreed, exhaling a sigh of relief that he was speaking again. With every passing hour, the fear that Garret would catch them diminished, but Chase's brooding presence had kept her from relaxing.

"We'll stop on the other side of Roanoke, near Bristol," he indicated, turning down the radio.

Sara nodded her agreement. She'd been hoping for a potty break. "How long will that take?"

" 'Bout two more hours."

She glanced at Kendal, who squirmed in the backseat.

Riding on roadways that weren't absolutely flat, he had a tendency to get carsick. "How do you feel, honey?"

"Okay," he said, but to her discerning eye that wasn't the case.

"I brought your medicine," she said rummaging in the backpack. "Oh, but I don't have anything for you to swallow it with." She started to put the medicine back.

"What's that?" Chase asked.

"Dramamine. Sometimes he gets carsick."

Garret had scoffed at Kendal's condition. Surely a Navy SEAL would also view it as a weakness. But in the next instant, Chase was easing into the breakdown lane. "There's water in the back," he explained. He stopped the car, jumping out to fetch them each a bottle.

The considerate gesture was deeply reassuring. Kendal swallowed his pill, and they were off, climbing up into the mountains. But Chase had lapsed back into silence.

"How many days does it take to get to Oklahoma?" Sara inquired. Could she endure that many hours with a brooding driver?

"Three days more or less," he said shortly.

"Why are we going there?" Kendal asked in a sleepy voice. The Dramamine was having its usual effect on him.

"I'll explain later, honey." The less Chase knew, the safer it was for all of them. She looked out the window to avoid his quick glance.

Three days! She'd been so focused on getting away that she'd spared little thought as to what it would be like in the hours and days following their departure. The idea of being cooped up that long brought little relief to her nail-biting anxiety.

By the time they pulled into a roadside motel, it was dark, and her stomach was rumbling. Chase unlatched his seat belt.

"They'll want a credit card imprint," he said, as she tried to hand him some money. "I'm only gettin' one room."

With that, he was gone, notching Sara's tension to the snapping point. She hadn't considered that they would have to share a room.

Jesse whined, as eager to get out as she and Kendal were.

Minutes later, Chase reappeared. Guiding them along the shadows, he escorted them to their room, shut the door, and drew the curtains before flicking on the lights. Kendal stumbled sleepily toward the bathroom.