Read On the Run Page 3


  She listened. Could she hear them?

  Yes, but she couldn’t tell where they were.

  Flashlights.

  Christ.

  The blind was just up ahead. She put on speed and reached the tree. “Up,” she whispered, and gave Frankie a boost. Frankie was halfway up the tree when Grace started. Her daughter crawled out on the branch holding the blind a moment later.

  Grace joined her in seconds and pulled her down flat on the wooden platform. “Quiet. In a hunt like this no one expects you to be above them. They’re focused on straight ahead.” The rain was making a slapping noise on the camouflage drape. It was different from the sound of the rain on the leaves, she realized. It would be a dead giveaway. She jerked the drape down.

  She hoped she was telling the truth about them not looking up. It was generally a fact, but who knew how experienced the leader of this particular team was? “Keep down,” she repeated. She could feel Frankie trembling with fear against her.

  Damn them. Damn them to hell.

  Grace drew Frankie closer as she pulled the gun out of the pocket of her poncho.

  The men were calling back and forth to one another as they searched the brush. They weren’t afraid she’d hear them. She and Frankie were the prey, the hunted. She listened. At least three different voices. If there were no more than that, then they wouldn’t be impossible targets. She knew these woods and they didn’t, and they wouldn’t expect—

  But she couldn’t leave Frankie.

  And one of the men was now directly below the tree with their blind.

  She held her breath. Her hand covered Frankie’s lips.

  The beam of his flashlight was skimming the mud, looking for footprints.

  She aimed the gun at his head. He was on the wrong side of the tree, but if he moved a few feet to the left he’d see the place where they’d climbed—

  An explosion shook the earth.

  “What the hell!” The man below her whirled in the direction of the farm. “What the devil was—”

  “The car. I think it was the car, Kersoff.” Another man had run up to stand beside the one below their tree. “I saw a flash and fire and it came from down the road where we left the car. Maybe the gas tank.”

  “That bitch. How did she get out of these woods?”

  “How did she kill Jennet?” he asked. “You warned us she wouldn’t be easy. He’s not going to like—”

  “Shut up.” Kersoff turned away and started toward the paddock. “If she blew up our car, she can’t be that far away. She’s probably trying to get to her own car now. We can block the road and wait for her. Locke! Where are you? Have you seen Locke?”

  “Not for a couple minutes. Shall I look—”

  “No, we have to get to the road. Move.”

  A moment later the sound of their passage through the brush faded.

  Frankie was turning her head to escape Grace’s hand on her lips. Grace moved it but whispered, “It’s still not safe. We don’t know where that other man is, baby.” She listened.

  No sound but the rain on the leaves.

  And when they didn’t find them back at the farm, they might come back and begin to search the woods again.

  “I’m going down to look around. You stay here and wait until I come back for you.”

  Frankie was violently shaking her head.

  “Yes,” Grace said firmly. “You can’t help. You might hinder. Now, stay here and be quiet.” She was already climbing down the tree. “It shouldn’t take long.”

  She heard a stifled sob, but Frankie wasn’t trying to follow her, she realized with relief.

  She moved quietly through the brush.

  As quietly as she could, pushing through this wet brush and mud sucking at her shoes, she thought bitterly. But if the missing Locke heard her, she should be able to hear him.

  She stopped. Listened. Moved on.

  Two minutes later she saw him.

  A small man lying on the ground, half-pushed beneath a bush. His eyes were open and the rain was falling on a face twisted in a death rictus.

  Locke?

  She could only guess at his identity. She could make no guess on who had taken him out and destroyed that car.

  Or maybe she could.

  Robert had promised her he was on his way.

  So grab the chance he’d given her and get Frankie away from the farm.

  Where?

  Baker’s Horse Farm was five miles from here. She’d follow the woods until she was a few miles from the farm and then hit the road. She could hide in the barn at Baker’s place until she could contact Robert.

  She turned and ran back toward the blind.

  She caught glimpses of the burning car on the road as she and Frankie ran through the woods. No sign of the bastards who had driven it.

  “Mom.” Frankie’s breath was coming in gasps. “Why?”

  Why had her life been turned upside down? Why had she been forced to witness her mother killing another human being? Why was she being hunted like an animal?

  “I’ll talk to you later— I can’t— I’m sorry, baby. I’ll try to make it right.” They had reached the curve of the road that couldn’t be seen from the farm. Grace glanced both ways. No one. “Come on. We can travel quicker on the road. We have to move fast and—”

  Headlights were suddenly bearing down on them.

  She reached for her gun and pushed Frankie to the side of the road. Grace followed her, fell flat, and lifted the gun, trying to see past the glare of lights to get a good shot.

  The car was stopping. “It’s okay, Grace.”

  She froze. She couldn’t see the driver, but God help her, she knew that voice.

  Kilmer.

  “Get in. I’ll make sure you’re safe now.”

  She closed her eyes. Get over the shock. She’d always known it would happen. “The hell you will.” She opened her eyes to see him kneeling beside her. The headlights were behind him and she couldn’t make out anything but an outline. She didn’t need to see him; she knew every line of his body, every feature of his face. “Your fault. This is all your fault, isn’t it?”

  “Get in the car. I have to get you out of here.” He turned to Frankie. “Hello, Frankie. I’m Jake Kilmer. I’m here to help you, and I promise no one will hurt you as long as I’m here.”

  Frankie shrank closer to Grace.

  Kilmer turned back to Grace. “Are you going to let her stay there in the mud or are you going to let me take care of her? I’m not the threat here.”

  No, he wasn’t. Not the immediate threat. But Kilmer was more dangerous than—

  Kilmer stood up. “I’m going to get back in the car. I’ll wait two minutes and then I’m leaving. Make up your mind.”

  He’d do it. Kilmer always did what he said he was going to do. That was one of the things that had drawn her to—

  He was getting into the driver’s seat.

  Two minutes.

  Make a decision.

  She got to her feet. “Come on, Frankie. Climb in the backseat. He won’t hurt us.”

  “You know him?” Frankie whispered.

  “Yes, I know him.” She took her daughter’s hand and led her toward the car. “I’ve known him for a long time.”

  There’s a blanket on the seat, Frankie,” Kilmer said as he stepped on the accelerator. “Take off your poncho and wrap up.”

  “Should I?” Frankie was looking at Grace, who had climbed into the backseat with her.

  Grace nodded. “You’re sopping wet.” She reached for the blanket and wrapped it around her. “We have to get you dry, honey.” She turned to Kilmer. “Take us to town and drop us off at a motel.”

  “I’ll take you to town.” He glanced at her. “I’m not sure any motel would take you in. You look like you’ve been buried in a mudslide for a month.”

  “Then you can check me in before you leave us.” She was reaching for her phone. “I don’t need you for anything else.”

  “You’r
e calling Robert Blockman?”

  No time to wonder how he knew about Robert. “I have to make sure he’s all right. He was back at the farmhouse and I don’t know what kind of spot—”

  “He wasn’t at the farm.”

  She looked at him. “How do you—” She stopped. “You blew up that car.”

  “It was the easiest way to draw them away from you. They weren’t very woods-savvy, but I wasn’t sure that they wouldn’t stumble across you. I took one of them out in the woods, but there wasn’t time to stalk down the other two when you and Frankie were so close. So I drew them back to the farm.”

  “Then I’ll have to warn Robert that they’re still there. He was on his way to—” She stopped again as she saw Kilmer shaking his head. “Has something happened to Robert?”

  “Not that I know about. But I resolved the problem at the farm before I came after you.”

  Resolved the problem. She’d heard Kilmer say that so many times before. “You’re sure?”

  “You know I’m always sure.” He smiled. “You don’t have to worry about your watchdog.”

  “Yes, I do.” She dialed Robert’s number. “If he didn’t get to the farm, I should have heard from him. He was going to try to find Charlie.”

  She got Robert’s voice mail. She hung up without leaving a message. “He’s not answering.” She turned to him. “Tell me what’s happening, dammit.”

  “Later.” He glanced at Frankie, who was bent over drying her hair. “I think she’s had enough for one night. You don’t want to worry her any more than she is already.”

  Frankie’s head lifted and she glared at Kilmer. “That’s pretty stupid. How can I help worrying about Charlie? And Mom’s worried too.”

  Kilmer blinked. “Sorry if I treated you disrespectfully. I obviously didn’t realize who I was dealing with.” He paused. “I’m concerned about your friend Charlie too. I know you’re probably scared and confused, and I believe I’ll let your mother discuss the matter with you. It’s difficult to give anyone a clear picture unless they have a background in the problem.” He glanced at Grace. “Does she?”

  “No.”

  “I didn’t think so.” He gazed gravely at Frankie. “I’m sure your mother will rectify that omission as soon as she can. And you’ll trust her and know that it’s the truth. Okay?”

  He was talking to Frankie as if she was an adult, Grace thought. It was the right way to handle her. But then, Kilmer was very smart about people.

  Frankie was nodding slowly. “Okay.” She curled up on the seat and wrapped the blanket around her again. Her face was pale and her hand clutching the blanket was shaking. She had been through a nightmare tonight and Grace wanted desperately to hold her, rock her. Not now. Not until she was sure they were somewhere safe. Frankie was holding on to her composure by a thread. One touch might break her.

  “Smart kid.” Kilmer’s gaze was on Grace’s face in the rearview mirror. “She’ll deal with it.”

  “How do you know? You don’t know anything about her.” She crossed her arms over her chest. It was weird to be so cold on this hot August night. She hadn’t been chilled before, but now that the adrenaline was subsiding, she was shaking as badly as Frankie. “Turn on the heater.”

  “It’s on,” Kilmer said. “You’ll feel it soon. I thought you’d have your usual reaction. Just relax and let the— Shit!” His brakes screeched as he stopped on the side of the road beside the river. “Stay here.” He jumped out of the car and was running down the incline toward the riverbank. “I think I caught sight of a truck down there in the water. Do what I say. You don’t want to leave Frankie alone.”

  But Frankie was already out of the car.

  Grace caught her before she could follow Kilmer down the incline. “No, Frankie. We’ve got to stay here.”

  “Charlie has a truck.” Frankie was fighting to get free. “It could be him. We’ve got to help him. It’s in the water.”

  “Kilmer will tell us if we can help.” Grace was in an agony of frustration as her gaze followed Frankie’s. The river water was up to the windows of the cab and she could see very little else through the rain. It might not be Charlie’s truck.

  Hell, who else could it be on this stretch of road? She wanted to be down there. But there was no way she could have Frankie go with her if it was Charlie’s truck. She put her arm around her daughter’s shoulders. “It’s better if we stay here. If Charlie’s there, Kilmer will get him out.”

  “He’s a stranger. You don’t even like him. I can tell.”

  “But he’s very good in emergencies. If I was in that truck, there’s no one I’d rather have go after me than Kilmer.”

  “Is that the truth?”

  “That’s the truth. Now let’s get closer so that we can see if there’s anything we can—”

  Kilmer was coming up the bank, half-leading, half-carrying someone.

  She stiffened, her heart jumping with hope. Charlie?

  “Charlie!” Frankie was running toward them. “I was so scared. What—”

  “Easy, Frankie.” It was Robert, not Charlie, who was being helped up the bank. He was soaking wet and dragging his left leg. “Be careful, this muddy bank is slippery.”

  She skidded to a stop. “Robert? I thought it was—”

  “No.” Robert met Grace’s eyes. “God, I’m sorry. I dove in and managed to get him out of the cab, but when I got him to the bank, I found out it was—” He shrugged helplessly. “I’m sorry, Grace.”

  “No! Don’t you tell me that.” She was running past him down the incline.

  Not Charlie.

  He was wrong.

  Not Charlie.

  He was lying on the bank. So still.

  Too still.

  Grace fell to her knees beside him.

  Don’t give up. Drowning victims sometimes could be brought back.

  She felt for his pulse.

  Nothing.

  She bent over him to give him mouth-to-mouth.

  “It’s no use, Grace.” Kilmer was standing beside her. “He’s gone.”

  “Shut up. Drowning victims can be—”

  “He didn’t drown. Look closer.”

  How was she supposed to look closer when she couldn’t see through the tears brimming from her eyes and running down her cheeks? “He . . . was in . . . the river.”

  “Look closer.”

  She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. She saw the hole in Charlie’s temple.

  She bent over double as the pain jagged through her. “No. It didn’t happen. Not to Charlie. It’s not fair. He was—”

  “Shh.” Kilmer was kneeling beside her. “I know.” He pulled her into his arms. “God, I wish—”

  “Let me go.” She pulled away from him. “You don’t know. You never met him.”

  “I know your pain. I’m feeling it, dammit.” He stood up. “But you won’t believe me right now.” He looked down at her. “I’ll leave you alone with him for a few minutes, but you’d better get back to the car. Frankie’s pretty upset. I left Blockman with her, but she needs you.”

  He didn’t wait for an answer but started up the incline.

  Yes, Frankie would need her. Frankie loved Charlie. Frankie wouldn’t understand the death of a loved one.

  Neither did Grace. Not this loved one . . .

  She reached out and gently pushed back the damp hair that was clinging to Charlie’s forehead. He was always very neat about his hair. She had often teased him about how much he combed—

  The tears were coming again. Try to stop them. Frankie needed her.

  Jesus, Charlie . . .

  3

  Frankie tore away from Robert and hurled herself into Grace’s arms when she opened the car door. Tears were running down her cheeks. “They wouldn’t let me go. Tell them I have to go see Charlie.”

  “No, baby.” Grace hugged her close and buried her face in her daughter’s hair. “You can’t see Charlie right now.” And never again. But how to say thos
e words?

  “You’re crying.” Frankie pushed her away and looked at her face. She reached out with a tentative hand and touched Grace’s cheek. “Why?”

  She drew a shaky breath. “Why are you crying?”

  “Because I’m scared and they wouldn’t let me go down—”

  “And I’m crying because they did let me go to Charlie.” She cupped her hands around Frankie’s face. “And I knew I had to tell you something terrible.”

  “Terrible,” Frankie whispered. “About Charlie?”

  “He’s gone, baby.” Her voice broke and she had to stop. Get through it. She tried again. “Charlie’s not going to be with us any longer.”

  “Dead. You mean he’s dead.”

  She nodded jerkily. “That’s what I mean.”

  Frankie stared at her in disbelief.

  “It’s true, Frankie.”

  “No.” Frankie buried her face in Grace’s chest, her little body convulsed with sobs. “No. No. No.”

  “Get into the car with her,” Kilmer said as he opened the driver’s door. “I’ll drive you to that motel and get you settled.”

  “Maybe I should have told her, Grace,” Robert said as he moved over on the seat. “I thought you’d want to do it yourself.”

  “You were right.” She sat down and pulled Frankie closer in her arms. She rocked her back and forth in an agony of sympathy. “It was my job. Shh, baby, I know none of this makes sense and it hurts. It hurts. . . . But I’m here and it will get better. I promise it will get better.”

  “Charlie . . .”

  Just let her mourn and hope the tears would bring some sort of closure. She didn’t know what else to do. God, she felt helpless.

  And in pain. The world seemed full of pain.

  Pain for Frankie, pain for herself. Pain and regret that Charlie’s life had been ended so brutally.

  “I’m sorry.” Frankie was looking up at her, the tears still running down her cheeks. “You’re hurting too. Am I making it worse for you?”

  Jesus, who could have expected Frankie to think of anyone else at a time like this? Grace shook her head. “You’re making it easier. Sharing always makes it easier.” She pressed Frankie’s head back on her shoulder. “We’ll get through it together. Just like we always do.”