When She Wasn't Looking (2 page)

She stared past him, out to the tree-lined road and the mountains surrounding her place. “Does that matter?”

He shifted so his back wasn’t quite as exposed. At this angle, he could swing around and aim for the yard or the house if he had to. “Actually, I think it does.”

She nibbled on her lip. “Courtney Allen.”

“And you live here?”

“Yes.”

“Anyone else?”

She edged the door tighter against her side and one step closer to shutting him out. “I don’t have a husband or a clue what you’re talking about.”

Jonas slipped his shoe into the space between the door and the frame, though he doubted she’d think twice of breaking a few bones if she had to.

“Do you know Margaret Taynor?” he asked.

Courtney glanced at his shoe then let her gaze wander up his body nice and slow, as if weighing her chances of running. He’d seen it before. This was the second before panic gave way to stupid.

“We’re done here,” she said.

He reassessed. Not domestic violence. Maybe some criminal activity in her past. Something she hadn’t settled. “You want me to come back with a warrant?”

“If you think you have probable cause, go ahead and try.”

The woman knew her legal lingo. He took that as a sign she either watched a lot of television or had some personal experience in this area. “Ma’am, I think you should come with me.”

Her shoulders straightened. It was as if she grew two inches just by standing there. “And I think you should move your foot before you lose it.”

Wanting to see what she would do, he slid it back. “Fair enough.”

“Goodbye, Officer.” She slammed the door before he could say anything else.

So much for going off duty.

* * *

C
OURTNEY GLANCED
through the peephole and saw the officer still standing on her porch. The guy had black hair, broad shoulders and an attitude that spelled trouble.

But she had bigger problems than a six-foot-something guy with a gun. Margaret Taynor? Oh, she knew Margaret. Courtney also knew if someone was asking, he’d finally found her.

With practiced quiet steps, she jogged to the back door and peeked out. The officer hadn’t slipped around to this side of the house. That meant she had time, probably seconds only, but she’d memorized the plan long ago.

She had to run.

She’d picked a house on this street on purpose. The neighborhood sat on the edge of Siuslaw National Forest. The lush woods behind the quiet property provided the perfect protection and the easiest escape.

She’d never been one for luck, but today she had it. Low wind and the rain from the night before had cleared. A crisp, sunny spring day beamed in through her kitchen window.

She eased the door open, scanning the open backyard for unwanted visitors. Branches from two trees bent over, forming a makeshift arch and beckoning her to the far end of her property. A tall fence outlined the yard. Nothing stood between her and safety. From here it was a dead run to the far gate.

If she kept quiet, Officer Tall, Dark and Dangerous wouldn’t hear her. That was the hope. He could waste time fiddling with his radio and she could run.

She held the door with two fingers to keep it from banging shut behind her. Two steps down and she hit the grass. Her cheap sneakers slid in the oozing mud, but she stayed on her feet. Air pounded in her lungs and a soft breeze whipped through her hair as she ran.

She lunged for the gate and flipped the cover open on the small security box. A car key fell into her hand as her fingers typed in the code. After a click the outside alarm shut off.

With one last glance over her shoulder, she said a silent goodbye to the only place that had felt like home in years. The pain of leaving ripped through her with the force of a blade. Her stomach dropped and her heart ached. She’d finally started to build memories, enjoy her work. She’d even made a real friend. She’d felt free to live again.

But her brain knew those days were over. Running was the right decision. If she stayed, she’d die like the rest of them.

Swallowing back the tears she refused to let fall, she opened the gate…and ran straight into the broad chest of Lieutenant Trouble.

Jonas grabbed her upper arms and held her a few inches away from him. “Hello.”

Her voice deserted her. “Uh-huh.”

“Going somewhere?”

Her breath rushed out of her lungs and refused to come back. “No.”

He smiled. “Good answer.”

Chapter Two

The woman with the truth problem tried to wiggle out of Jonas’s hold. “You have to let me go.”

“Not going to happen.” With his patience expired, he shot her his best I’m-done-here glare.

“I haven’t done anything wrong.” The tension over her shoulders eased. She switched from fighting to boneless.

But he wasn’t ready to trust her, so he held on. “From my experience, innocent people don’t run.”

“You’re kind of big to be that naive.”

“Sounds like you have trust issues, but—” He reached for his radio. In that brief span where his fingers didn’t wrap around her arm, she took off. “You’ve got to be kidding. You’re running?”

She crossed over the gravel road separating the back of her private property from the protected forest behind. Turning to the left, she slipped along the fence running parallel to the tree line. Not once did she look back.

The great escape took all of two seconds and left him staring in reluctant admiration. At least he wasn’t alone in his cluelessness. He realized she actually believed she could pull this off.

“Margaret…” He searched his brain for the name she’d used and shouted that one even louder. “Courtney.”

When she didn’t stop, he took off after her. He could stay still and aim, call out a warning then hit the ground right near her with a shot. The move would scare the crap out of her, but he decided not to play it that way.

He ran behind her, gaining on her and closing the distance with each step. Years of training, all those physical-fitness tests, served him well. At thirty-three he still ran a seven-minute mile.

Shame he hated running so much.

He’d almost reached her when her sneakers skidded on the loose stones and she dashed to the right. She headed for a small cutout in the fence where two poles met and only a slip of space waited. With a quick glance over her shoulder, she turned sideways and shimmied her way through the impossibly small hole.

“Courtney!” He grabbed her foot but she kicked out, sliding out of his grasp as she tumbled back.

A knee buckled but she stayed on her feet. With a push-off from her hand against the ground, she took off again. His string of profanity didn’t stop her any better than the yelling had.

He held the poles and tried to figure out an easy way in. His shoulders wouldn’t even fit in the space, which meant he had to go over.

I should have shot at her when I had the chance.

The metal clanked as he moved down the fence line a few feet and curved his fingers through the chain links. Ignoring the rough edges slicing into his palms, he pulled his body up and over the twelve-foot fence.

By the time his feet hit the wet ground on the other side, she was gone. Not that hiding would save her. No, he was in this now. All traces of exhaustion and thoughts of sleep left his head. He would catch her, take her in and probably issue a lecture or two in the process.

She didn’t strike him as a hard-edged criminal, but she was starting to act like one. From his experience, there was only one way to catch someone determined to flee—rough and fast.

Taking turns keeping watch behind him and sweeping his gaze over the landscape in front of him, he stalked through the woods. The towering trees blocked the sun, letting only pools of light filter through. With his back against a tree, he scanned the area. A flash of red moved up ahead to his left.

Found her.

His steps quiet and firm on the slippery ground, he swung out wide, racing to her far side and hoping to come up behind her. He could see her in a clearing. Her arms never stopped working as she reached over an outcropping of rocks. She didn’t do anything to hide the crunching of sticks beneath her feet or her deep breathing.

Weapon close by, he shifted into the open area. Ahead of her a dirt road lead out and curved deeper into the forest. This close he could see he read the situation wrong. She wasn’t standing by rocks. She tugged on a large piece of tan canvas, a cloth that had blended into the landscape only a few seconds before.

Her gaze darted around, checking the area behind her but ignoring the rest of the woods. With a loud thwack, she snapped the material to the side before throwing it to the ground.

“You have a car out here?” He spoke before his brain clicked into gear.

The sunlight glinted off the metal in her hand when she spun around. “How did you—”

“And a gun. A car and a gun. How enterprising of you, Ms. Courtney Allen, or whatever your name really is.” He watched the weapon shake in her fingers and judged the chance of knocking her down without getting a bullet through his forehead.

“It’s Courtney.”

He snorted. “And why would I not believe you?”

“It’s not what you think.”

“What was your earlier comment about being innocent? Last I checked innocent people don’t have an escape plan.”

“I told you to leave me alone.”

“Yeah, that’s not going to happen now. I can’t have a woman racing around my jurisdiction with two names and a gun.”

His impression of her kept changing. He’d read her as a victim originally, but she sure seemed ready to pull the trigger now.

“I haven’t done anything wrong.” Her voice wavered on the words as her chest rose and fell.

“Threatening a police officer, resisting arrest, and I’m betting you don’t have a license for that.” He nodded in the direction of the gun leveled at him from a distance of less than ten feet.

“Do you think I care about a license?”

“What I want is for both of us to live through the next few minutes. The best way to make that happen is for you to lower your weapon.” He pressed his hand down, trying to get her to follow his lead and drop the damn thing. “You put it down, we talk and this whole misunderstanding goes away.”

Her gaze darted to the left then back to him. “It’s not safe.”

Since he was looking down the barrel of a gun, he had to agree with her on that one. “I have a good office, quiet and private. We can talk there. Work this out.”

“I’m leaving.”

“We both are.” He started lifting his hand to his shoulder then stopped when she stepped closer, her finger inching toward certain death for him.

“Don’t move.”

“Wait a second. I’m just trying to show you my radio. I called for backup.”

Her arms tensed to the point of snapping. “When?”

Never, actually, but he had no intention of telling her that. “There’s nowhere to go.”

She shook the weapon at him again. “Drop the radio and the gun.”

“Courtney, if I take this gun out, if my fingers get even a quarter-inch closer to the trigger, I’m going to aim it at you. Do you understand that?”

“I do now.” She pointed the gun at the car. “Get in.”

He’d been expecting surrender, thought maybe she’d even engage in a little smart panic. An offer for a ride took him by surprise.

He forced his mouth in a flat line to keep from giving his shock away. “Excuse me?”

“You’re coming with me. I’ll drop you off up the road.” She nodded her head and repeated the comment, as if getting comfortable with the idea.

That made one of them. “I wouldn’t even fit in that car, Courtney.”

The vehicle, if that was what it was, looked more like an egg with a steering wheel. With mud and leaves caked to the wheels, he doubted she could even get it to move.

And then there was the part where he wasn’t getting in. He gave self-defense presentations all the time and had one very simple rule: do everything you can to not get in a vehicle with your attacker.

She frowned at him. “Your comfort is not my main priority.”

“Clearly, but do you really want to add kidnapping to your list of crimes?”

“I want to be able to get a head start. Up the road a bit, you’ll get out and the radio will stay with me. By the time someone picks you up or you get out of the forest, I’ll be long gone.” She ticked off the specs as if she had them memorized.

“Sounds like you’ve had this plan brewing for a long time.”

“You have ten seconds.” She started walking, backing her way toward the car before bracing her shoulders against the door.

The move took away the option of wrestling her to the ground, or at least made it harder. “Or?”

“I’m going to shoot you.”

“I doubt that,” he said, even as he believed the opposite was possible at this point.

“I have nothing to lose. Do you really want to test me?” She whispered the words but they echoed through the woods with the force of a fierce shake.

He read the desperation in her eyes. Worry and fear showed in the tight lines of her face. People pushed to the edge often did dumb things. Add in a weapon and the chance for idiocy tripled.

At this range, she’d likely hit some part of his body, and he had quite a few he wasn’t ready to lose just yet. That left only one or two options, none of them good. He could draw his weapon, likely get off a shot before she knew what hit her. He could rush her and risk a bullet. Even if he hit her, one or both of them would get hurt.

Or he could wait it out as he tried to figure out who she was and what had her so willing to throw her life away to get out of Aberdeen. The curious part of him wanted to go with the latter. Something about her had him intrigued. Probably had something to do with this being the first time he stood on the wrong side of a gun held by a woman. He’d had plenty of males shoot at him, men and boys, but she was the first female.

He lifted his hand away from his gun and raised his palms in the air. “My shift is over, by the way. I should be at home sleeping.”

She shrugged. “You’re the one who came to my door.”

The woman has an answer for everything.
“And believe me when I say I regret that.”