Cause For Alarm (36 page)

K
ate forced herself to rest, though she couldn't quiet her mind enough to sleep. She lay in the bed, listening to her baby daughter's gentle breathing, alternately praying for the best and imagining the worst.

Some minutes were better than others. During the bad ones, the worst ones, fear smothered her. She imagined her beautiful Emma dead, her life force obliterated in all manner of gruesome ways. She imagined Emma crying out, helpless and in pain. She imagined herself, unable to reach and comfort her daughter, unable to save her. If it came to it, Kate had decided, she would beg John Powers to kill her instead.

Someone tapped lightly on her door. Kate glanced at Emma, then climbed out of the bed and crossed to it.

“Yes?” she whispered.

“It's me,” Luke said. “May I come in?”

She opened the door and held a finger to her lips. He nodded and stepped inside. “I just wanted to make sure that you and Emma…that you're all right.”

“We're fine.” She glanced again toward the bed and Emma. “I'm frightened out of my wits, but what else is new?”

“It's going to be all right,” he said, keeping his voice low. “I'll do everything I can to protect you and Emma. I promise.”

She searched his gaze, thinking of Richard's promises. His assurances. And in the end, what had they really been worth?

“I'm not Richard,” he said as if reading her mind. “I'm not, Kate. Know that.”

He wasn't, Kate acknowledged. Luke Dallas was the man Richard had wished he was.

The truth of that made so many things suddenly clear—like Richard's competitiveness with Luke, his resentment and jealousy. Richard, she realized, had seen Luke's success as his own failure.

She swallowed hard. “Thank you, Luke. For not deserting us. For being here for me even after…after everything.”

He brought a hand to her face, tracing the curve of her cheekbone. Without thinking, she turned her face to it, moving her lips against his skin.

He sucked in a short, quick breath. “Kate, I—”

She lifted her gaze to his. She saw longing in his. Longing and regret. She opened her mouth to say something, though she was uncertain what. Before she could, he dropped his hand and took a step back from her.

“Try to get some sleep,” he murmured. “Tomorrow's going to be an exhausting day.”

And then he was gone.

 

The next day did, indeed, prove to be an exhausting one. To make the trip, Kate and Julianna needed clothing, cosmetics and other personal care items; Emma needed everything from clothes to diapers, toys to formula and baby food. Combat shopping, Julianna called it as they raced through the drug and department stores, pulling garments off racks and dumping items into carts.

Luke insisted on paying for everything with the cash he had withdrawn from the bank that morning. Credit cards and checks, he told them, left a paper trail even an amateur P.I. could follow.

And John Powers was anything but an amateur.

For that same reason, he suggested they drive to D.C. Despite what commercial airlines assured the consumer, flight manifests were easy to get ahold of. Flying also presented the problem of either renting a car at their destination or relying on taxis; in terms of stealth, neither of those options worked.

It was nearly three that afternoon before Kate had their things packed in Luke's Tahoe and was ready to go. She went in search of Luke, finding him in his office, on the phone. He waved her in. “Doing good, Frank.” He covered the mouthpiece. “The P.I.,” he murmured, then dropped his hand. “Thanks, I'm glad you liked it.

“Look, I've got a job I need you to do for me. Three names. John Powers. Wendell White. David Snow.” He spelled them for the man. “I believe Wendell White and David Snow are both aliases for John Powers. Get everything you can on all three. Addresses, phone bills, credit card summaries, travel destinations. If anyone going by one of these names has so much as burped in the past three years, I want to know about it.”

Luke listened to the other man, then nodded. “Two. And a travel agency's name.” He took the envelope and ticket stub from his jacket pocket. He gave the investigator John's address in D.C., the address on the envelope and the travel agency's name and address. “That's it,” he said. “All I've got.”

He smiled, met Kate's eyes and gave her a thumbs-up. “I'm leaving town for a while, I'll drop your retainer in the mail before I leave.” Luke laughed. “Sure I'm sure I'm good for it.” His amusement evaporated. “No number where I can be reached. I'll check in with you from the road.”

He hung up, and Kate suddenly realized she was holding her breath and let it out in a rush. “You amaze me, Luke. How do you know all this stuff? I feel like I'm hanging out with James Bond or something.”

“My work.” He grinned. “I've basically spent the past ten years immersed in the world of spies, criminals and cops. I've been in the heads of cold-blooded killers and madmen, heroes and even the occasional damsel in distress.”

“Now you're a real hero,” she said softly, smiling.

“Then that would make you the damsel in distress.”

“I guess it would.” Her smile faded. “Heroes get killed, Luke. I don't want…I couldn't bear to…”

She couldn't bear to lose him.

She cleared her throat. “Just be careful, okay? No heroics.”

“You don't need to worry about me, I've outsmarted guys like John Powers dozens of times.”

But that was the beauty of fiction, being able to write the ending of your choice. The one where good triumphed, evil fell and everyone who deserved to lived happily-ever-after.

But this was real life.

“Stop it, Kate,” he said. “I know what you're thinking.” He lifted her chin with his index finger, forcing her to look directly into his eyes. “We're going to beat this psycho. I really believe that.”

She gazed at him a moment, heart thundering. “I wish I had your confidence. I wish I wasn't so scared.”

He slipped his arms around her and eased her against his chest. She held herself stiffly a moment, then sagged against him, curving her arms around his middle, holding him tightly, half afraid that without his support she would fall.

He passed his hand over her hair, stroking. Comforting. “You can lean on me, Kate. I'm here for you.”

She drew in a deep breath. He smelled of spicy soap and the sunny day. It would be so easy to do as he offered. Fall apart. Give in to her fear. Lean on him, let him hold her up and take care of her.

She couldn't do that. John Powers was too smart and too deadly to allow her that luxury.

Kate drew regretfully away. “I have to stay strong, Luke. For Emma. She's counting on her mother to keep her safe, and I can't turn that job over to anybody. Even you.”

He gazed into her eyes a moment, his filled with respect, then bent and brushed his lips against hers. “Time to go.”

 

Twenty minutes later, they were on the road. Kate tried to focus on Luke's confidence, on the reassuring things he had said to her about beating John Powers. She worked hard to put on a positive face, to keep her mood upbeat. Not only for herself, but for the others as well.

Even so, she was afraid. For all of them. She glanced repeatedly over her shoulder as they put mile after mile between themselves and Houston, all too aware that each one of those miles put them that much closer to a confrontation with John Powers.

At least they traveled well together. For Kate, being with Luke felt as natural as breathing. They talked and laughed together, often anticipating the other's need for rest or food or quiet.

Being with Julianna, on the other hand, was discomfiting. Kate still couldn't look at the woman without a rush of fury sweeping over her. Without remembering how it had come about that she was running for her and her daughter's life. Without remembering Richard.

Several times, Kate had caught the younger woman gazing at Emma, naked longing in her eyes. Those times Kate had felt anxious and vulnerable. Frightened in a way that had nothing to do with John Powers' threat on her life. She feared Julianna wanted Emma back. She didn't trust that she wouldn't simply snatch the child in the middle of the night and disappear.

Consequently, Kate never strayed far from her daughter's side; she never allowed Julianna to hold or touch her. She wasn't about to take any chances.

By the middle of the second day, Kate saw that the two-day trip would have to become three because of Emma. The hours confined to her car seat began to wear on the infant—she was unhappy and fussy, well on her way to being inconsolable.

“We're going to have to stop,” Kate said, dangling Emma's favorite rattle in front of her. Instead of batting at it as she usually did, she turned her head away, screwing her face up with frustration.

Kate met Luke's eyes in the rearview mirror. “Emma's had it. If we don't give her a little downtime, she's going to make our lives very uncomfortable.”

As if on cue, the infant began to cry, her cries quickly escalating to earsplitting howls. Kate began to rock the car seat and sing softly, trying to calm the infant. It took a few moments, but it began to work. As Emma's cries lessened to whimpers, Kate slipped a pacifier into her daughter's mouth.

“How do you do it?” Julianna asked suddenly. “How do you put up with her and stay so…calm? I think I'd lose it.”

“Because I love her,” Kate said simply. “And because I'm her mother.”

“Next exit,” Luke announced, reading a sign, “two miles ahead. Food. Lodging. Gas. Sounds like just the ticket.”

They made it to the exit and into the first motel without another crying jag from Emma. The motel, a very nice La Quinta Inn, had no two-bedroom suites available. So they booked a regular suite, complete with a bar and minifridge. Julianna offered to take the fold-out couch—Luke, Kate and Emma would take the bedroom.

The motel, Kate was delighted to learn, had an indoor pool, one that included a kiddie pool. They spent the late afternoon splashing in the water, laughing at Emma's antics and drinking frozen margaritas from the motel bar.

The hours out of the car did everyone good, especially Emma. The unhappy baby Kate had hardly recognized disappeared, replaced with the contented one Kate knew and loved so well. As for Kate, by the time evening rolled around, she was so relaxed she was practically liquid.

Kate curled up on one end of the couch, watching Luke play with Emma, Julianna on the other, watching a pay-per-view movie. Flat on his back on the floor, Luke lifted the infant high above him. As he did, she stiffened her arms and legs so both stuck straight out.

“Airplane baby,” he said, making a motor sound and moving her forward and back until she squealed with laughter.

A tingling kind of warmth moved down Kate's spine and outward, all the way to the tips of her fingers and toes, enveloping her in a rosy-feeling glow. She smiled to herself. Did other women find something sexy about a man playing with a baby the way Luke was with Emma? Did they find all that strength and masculinity channeled into gentle, loving play as irresistible as she did?

She moved her gaze, taking in the way the muscles in his upper arms flexed as he lifted Emma up and down, noting the flatness of his abdomen and the dusting of golden hair across his tanned forearms, admiring, growing aroused.

Luke caught her gaping at him and grinned. “What?”

She hesitated, feeling an embarrassed flush stealing up her cheeks. “I'm just…happy.”

“Happy?” he repeated, arching an eyebrow, still holding Emma above him. “Is that why your cheeks are so pink?”

She glanced at Julianna. The other woman seemed engrossed in her movie and oblivious to them. “Too much sun.”

“Indoor pools have been known to—” Just then a fat dollop of Emma's saliva hit his nose and cheek. “Oh, man.” He sat up, tucking Emma under one arm. “She slimed me.”

Kate laughed, stood and crossed to the bathroom. “Her Grace, Princess of Drool. Actually, I'm starting to suspect she's more Saint Bernard pup than human baby.” Kate grabbed a hand towel and tossed it to him. “Don't worry, though. It's just baby spit. Completely harmless.”

“Easy for you to say.” He wiped his face, then tossed the towel back.

“Sure you want to get rid of this? You may need it.” She looked pointedly at him. Emma was blowing bubbles; they were dribbling down her chin and onto his shorts.

“Geez.” He laughed. “Throw me that thing again.”

Kate checked her watch. “Actually, it's getting close to her bedtime, I'd better get her into her pajamas and feed her. I bet she'll be sound asleep before she even finishes the bottle.”

Kate was right, and by the time the adults called it quits for the night Emma had already been asleep for a couple of hours.