Extreme Measures (9 page)

“I don’t know where you’re taking me. It might be cooler there than here. Of course, it’d have to be way up North to be cooler in the summertime, wouldn’t it?” She shifted on one foot. “Maybe I’ll put it back.”

“Erin.” Needing to comfort her probably more than she needed to be comforted, Matt skirted around the suitcase and reached for her, taking her into his arms without any protest.

She surprised him by burying her head into the curve of his neck. Her hands clenched the fabric of his shirt as though the connection helped root her. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He’d seen that one coming, expected her anger, but this quiet, tearful voice shook his foundation. Would she understand he’d been trying to protect her more than just physically? Holding her in his arms like this took him back to a moment in time when the connection was natural.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to
have
to tell you, and I’m used to working on a need to know basis.” He rested his chin atop her head like he’d done so many times before. She fit so perfectly in his arms, her curves melting against him.

Her palms opened and splayed against the expanse of his chest, moving in gentle circles. Matt swallowed hard, telling himself he needed to break away. Erin was only feeling vulnerable, and he wouldn’t take advantage of that.

She lifted her head, and there in the depths of those perfect violet eyes swam the memory of their last kiss. The night before their divorce became final. He’d gone to their house to talk to her. And he had talked while she’d cried. Then she’d kissed him with as much passion as she had the day they married before quietly closing the door in his face.

He cupped her face with both hands. “He’s not going to hurt you, Erin.”

She nodded, licking her lower lip. “I know you’ll protect me.” Once more their gazes connected, and she touched two fingers to his lips. The feel of her warm skin nearly crippled him.

Surprising him, she replaced her fingers with her lips, giving him a brief kiss he wasn’t sure how to interpret. Was she thankful he was there to protect her? Or feeling something more? Unfortunately, there wasn’t time for answers.

He allowed himself a brief moment to close his eyes and savor the closeness before he shifted, putting some distance between them. His fingers lifted her chin, bringing her face up again. “We need to get you out of here.”

She gave a shaky nod then stepped back. “I just have a few more things to get from the bathroom.” Pausing at the door, she looked over her shoulder. “Where are you taking me?”

A smile tugged at his lips. “Up North.”

Stuart rubbed his palms around the steering wheel, liking the feel of the luxurious leather beneath his palms. This car had been worth taking the risk in broad daylight. The elderly owners they’d happened upon in the parking lot of a local grocery store had been too happy to hand over the keys and their money just to stay alive for a few more years. And that was just fine with him.

The old van had barely gotten them three miles before its engine spluttered to a stop, refusing to start again. Luck had smiled on them once again, though. The grocery store had been less than a half a mile up the road.

A passing green sign gave him the distance to Charleston. Thirty miles. Once they were in the city, finding Erin might be a bit of a problem, but Stuart didn’t think for one second he wouldn’t be able to locate her. Folks could be pretty talkative when they feared for their lives.

Arlin tapped his foot against the floorboard. “I could go for a beer.”

“We aren’t stopping until we get to Charleston.” Stuart’s knuckles tightened on the wheel, and he checked the rearview for what must have been the tenth time in less than fifteen minutes. Nerves. Just nerves. He tried to convince himself he had no reason to be worried. They’d made it this far without passing one cop, and no one would suspect two escaped convicts were traveling in a Mercedes.

"Oh, come on, We can spare a few minutes to slurp down a couple of brewskis. Those ones you got from the gas station are hot now." Arlin cranked up the radio, the blaring tunes of an old rock band causing the windows to vibrate.

Stuart was grateful for the distraction. Too much time had passed with him thinking about killing Arlin. The thought consumed him. On top of that, his skin had started to crawl, making him realize it wasn’t nerves at all. He needed to score. "Hey," he yelled over the thrum of the bass guitar. "You got any stuff left on you?"

Arlin looked down at his hands. "Nope."

Stuart recognized that look. Guilt. Which meant the bastard had snorted the last of it by himself. "Damn you! That wasn’t all for you."

"Had to keep my energy up." The skinny convict didn’t sound repentant at all.

With a twist of his fingers, Stuart killed the radio. "Yeah, well, we gotta find something and soon. I doubt I can make it into the city."

Arlin sniffed and ran his finger under his nose. "How much money did Grandma and Grampa have on them?"

"Check their wallets." Stuart drummed his fingers on the dash while he impatiently waited for his cell mate to count out the bills.

"Woo-hoo! The old geezer must not have trusted banks. We've hit the motherload." He fanned out a row of one hundred dollar bills that made Stuart's shoulders drop in relief.

"Good. Good. That's great." His head had begun a slow, steady throb. "Just keep your eyes peeled."

"Piss on that," Arlin growled. "Let's just get ourselves a little helper who'll be more than glad to show us to the proper destination."

Stuart had to grin. Sometimes, Arlin did come up with some good ideas. "I like your way of thinking. Looks like there's a couple of gals right there at that bus stop. Why don't we offer them a lift?"

Chapter Seven

If she didn’t think too hard, Erin could imagine she and Matt were taking a road trip just as they had many times before. It hadn’t been unusual for them to wake up Saturday morning and decide to take off for a few days. They’d visited almost all of the smaller cities surrounding Manhattan before their second year anniversary.

Matt’s hand stretched across the distance separating them and took hold of hers. “It’s going to be okay.”

How could he say that? She didn’t ask the question aloud. He was doing what he was trained to do, saying what he was supposed to say.
Keep the victim calm
. She’d heard those words so many times when they’d gone out with his colleagues. She never thought he’d be using the techniques he’d learned at Quantico on her.

She pulled her hand free and tucked it beneath her leg. “When we get wherever it is that we’re going, will you be coming back to Charleston?”

“Probably.” Matt took hold of the wheel with both hands. “I need to see this through.” A hint of an apology colored his voice.

Erin trained her gaze out the window, watching the buildings they whipped past and wondering how far she’d have to go to get away from her brother.

Matt’s cell phone rang, and once he answered, she didn’t even bother to pretend she wasn't listening.

"Damnit. Well, at least we know what they’re riding in now. We’re on I-26 now. Once I get Erin to the safe house, I’ll…” A long silence followed before Matt continued talking. “No. Not happening. You heard me.”

The tone of his voice had undergone a drastic change. Matt might have been talking to his supervisor, but he didn’t sound subordinate. She aimed a glance at him, and the muscle jumping in his jaw gave her more information. Whoever he was talking to had pissed him off.

“Jacob, I’m not doing it. You can pull the rank card all you want. I’ll call you when I get to the safe house.” He pressed the end button and returned the cell to the inside pocket of his jacket, a scowl on his face.

Jacob. Erin recognized the name but couldn’t quite put a face with it. She did remember he was Matt’s boss, fairly high up the food chain. Not that it would ever matter to Matt. He didn’t allow a little thing like authority to stand in his way when he wanted something.

“Aren’t you going to ask?” Matt practically snarled each syllable.

“I’ve already figured out Jacob wanted you to do something you didn’t want to do. What I don’t know is why you’d tell your boss no.”

“Because it fit.” Matt switched on the blinker, looked over his left shoulder, and guided the sedate black sedan into the left hand lane.

“So what did he ask you to do?”

“He didn’t ask me to do anything. He told me to rendezvous with two other agents.” He stomped the accelerator, and the needle climbed past the sixty mark.

“And you don’t like the agents?” Erin had an idea where this was going, but she didn’t need to guess. Matt wanted to tell her this, or he never would have asked.

“I like them just fine, but I’m not handing you over to them.” As he said the words, he flicked a glance at her. “Catching Stuart is my job, Erin, but protecting you is more important.”

Tears stung her eyes. Damn. Why did he have to say things like that? All they’d been to one another was over. At least it was supposed to be. “Maybe it doesn’t have to be one or the other.”

His scowl deepened. “What do you mean?”

"What if running from Stuart isn’t the best thing to do?” Warming to her subject, she turned slightly in the seat to face him, the belt limiting her space. “Whatever evidence you found, what if it was just meant to scare me? He could have a real reason for wanting to see me, another reason that’s important to him. He can’t actually believe he’s going to be able to stay out of prison so maybe coming here is just something he has to do.”

Matt’s upper lip curled. “Are you suggesting your brother wants to find you just to
talk
to you?”

“Well, you did say I’d turned my back on him. Maybe he wants to find out why. Maybe he needs that family connection. It’s possible once he sees me, talks to me, he’ll turn himself in.”

Matt snorted, tugged off his sunglasses, and aimed a heated glare at her face before he returned his gaze to the road. “And maybe Attica will throw him a ticker tape parade when he returns. I’m not letting him get within five hundred feet of you."

Erin wasn’t ready to back down. She reached across, touched her ex-husband’s arm, and his breath hissed out from between clenched teeth. “I know he’s a murderer, Matt, but if all he needs to stop is to see me, to understand why I broke off communication, isn’t it worth trying?”

She wasn’t being optimistic, but Matt didn’t need to know that. The way she saw it, if she had to use herself as bait to get Stuart closer, to put all of this behind her quicker, then that’s what she’d do.

“No.” The one word rang with finality.

“Will you just listen to reason before arbitrarily making a decision?”

“What you’re talking about isn’t reasonable, Erin.”

She folded her arms and sat back hard against the seat. “You always did this, you know.”

He didn’t take his eyes off the road. “Did what?”

“Called the shots. Made all the decisions.” Memories came flooding back. All the arguments they’d had after Stuart had been arrested, the many times Matt had shut her out, and the thousands of tears she’d cried when she’d realized her marriage had been shredded beyond repair.

“You’re talking about when I arrested Stuart. That’s when things changed between us.” The muscle in his cheek picked up its pace. “We can’t change what’s happened, Erin, and there isn’t any use in reliving those months.”

Relive them? Is that what he actually thought she wanted to do? She’d give anything if she could erase them from her memory or could even manage to pretend they didn’t exist. She’d lost so much more than her parents the night they’d died. And because she hadn’t known how to get any of it back or keep what she had, her life had become a series of robotic steps, just putting one foot in front of the other until night fell.

“If you think I want to rehash the past, Matt, you couldn’t be more mistaken.” Even she heard the crack in her voice.

“I only made the decisions because I didn’t want you to have to after that night. Losing Sheila and Earl had been traumatic enough. I thought you needed time to heal.”

Just the mention of her parents’ names lodged a knot in her throat. “I don’t think that wound will ever fully heal.”

His breath escaped in a loud rush of air. “You’re probably right.” He cleared his throat. “Did you ever…talk to anyone?”

“I tried talking to my husband, but it didn’t help.” She turned her gaze toward the window again. The shot hit hard, and she knew it. But she needed the distance it would put between them. Already she was growing too close to him because he made it easy to lean on him, to trust him. She couldn’t trust her heart to him again.

Matt cursed under his breath. “No, you didn’t, and that was part of the problem. You shut me out, Erin. From the moment I put those handcuffs on Stuart, you stopped talking to me, at least about anything that mattered.”

The accusation smacked her, ringing in its intensity. Matt had never forgiven her for trying to protect herself from any more pain. He’d been all about the law and justice, seeing nothing but Stuart’s guilt and what needed to be done. Not for one moment had he considered what should have been done.

She traced a pattern on the window with her fingertip. “You didn’t let me talk to him then, Matt, but regardless of what you think, I need to talk to him now. Maybe this isn’t just about what he wants.”

A vulgar curse word, one he rarely used, exploded from his lips, and Matt moved the car over into the right lane, taking the next exit with more speed than finesse.

“What are you doing?”

“This isn’t a conversation I’m going to have with you in a moving vehicle.” The closest stop was a mini-mart just off the highway. Matt pulled into the parking lot and shut off the engine. He didn’t immediately look at her. “You can’t talk to Stuart. No one can.”

“What do you mean?” Her heart sped up. Whatever was going on inside of Stuart’s mind, there still had to be a part of him that wanted to talk to her, that needed to talk to her, too.

“He’s not rational. After he escaped, we pulled his file. Stuart has been in and out of the psych unit inside prison. He hears voices, has hallucinations. The last psychiatrist who attempted to treat him Stuart almost choked to death. No one else is willing.” He finally looked at her then. “No matter what you try to say to Stuart, he only hears what he wants to hear, and how he perceives it can set him off.”