Kellen smiled when Dana approached, but her eyes were deeply shadowed, proof if needed of yet another restless night. Dana could see it even if Kellen refused to admit it. And when Dana touched her back, the set of her muscles confirmed she was tired and tense at the same time.
Maybe when this was all done, what Kellen needed was a few weeks of skiing and laughing and loving to take away the shadows behind her smile. Dana planned to make it so.
“Why don’t you go back to bed and get some sleep?” Dana suggested.
Rubbing a hand over her face, Kellen gamely put on a brave front. “It’s a nice thought, especially if you were to join me.”
She inched closer and kissed Dana, softly at first and then with increasing enthusiasm. Dana responded with a muffled sound of pleasure, deep in her throat. The sound was involuntary, uncalculated. But she noticed it seemed to further ignite Kellen’s passion.
At the next opportunity, she tipped her head back and looked at Kellen. “Tell me, do you like women who are…vocally demonstrative?”
Kellen laughed softly and traced a knuckle along Dana’s jaw. “If you’re vocal, then I like that. If you’re not, then I’m fine with that too. What I like is you—in my arms and in my bed.”
“Hell of a good answer,” Dana murmured as she slipped her hands under Kellen’s sweater so she could touch the skin that lay just beneath. Kellen smiled in a way that said she liked it as much as Dana did.
She reached for Kellen’s hand and was about to lead her back into the bedroom when she heard a soft knock on the door.
Kellen groaned. “Damn.”
Dana seconded her sentiment. She kept her arms wrapped around Kellen’s waist and held on a moment longer. She felt uneasy but could see that while Bogart looked toward the door, he didn’t alert. It told her the knock might be an ill-timed interruption, but they would not find a foe on the other side of the door.
She opened the door, acknowledged Grant, and then waved him inside while Kellen poured an extra cup of coffee and set it on the table for him.
Grant paused long enough to take a grateful swallow. “You were right when you thought the shooter might be connected to someone you’d trained in the past. We’ve identified him. His name is Douglas Broussard.”
Kellen turned and looked out the window, a thoughtful expression on her face. “I trained someone by the name of Tommy Lee Broussard about three years ago,” she said. “He hailed from some out-of-the-way parish in Louisiana, down by the Gulf. Any relation?”
“The shooter’s his father.”
“Damn.” Kellen closed her eyes. “That means Tommy Lee’s—”
“Dead. Yes. He died about a year and a half ago. Killed in an avalanche in southern Chile. Did you know him well?”
“Yes. He was really something, a natural,” Kellen said softly. “Fearless but never foolish. Great instincts. I wanted to hire him after the first time I worked a callout with him. He knew it too, but he begged me not to say the words. He’d spent his whole life in a small backwater town, and he wanted to travel, see something of the world before settling down. And he knew if I offered him a job, he’d take it and possibly regret later that he never had a chance to explore. He asked me to give him time, three years to get the travel bug out of his system, and then, if I was still interested, he’d gladly come on board. We both knew I’d still be interested.”
“I’m so sorry,” Dana murmured and put her hand on Kellen’s shoulder, offering what solace and support she could with her touch.
“Tommy Lee had two older brothers,” Grant said. “Declan and Nathan Broussard run a pair of fishing boats. It’s what Broussard senior expected of all three boys, and according to Declan, his father took Tommy Lee’s death hard. Surprising because strained would be a safe characterization of Broussard’s relationship with Tommy Lee. Regardless, he blames you for filling his boy’s head with thoughts of seeing the world.”
“I—”
“It doesn’t have to be the truth,” Dana said. “It’s what the man chose as a way of rationalizing what happened. It made it easier for him to deal with his son’s death.”
Grant nodded. “Douglas Broussard grew up hard, in and around the Louisiana swamps. He got out briefly and did a stint in the army, which turned him into a sharpshooter. After he got home, he began using his newfound skills to bring in extra income, mostly hunting alligators, sometimes running contraband.”
“Do they have any idea where he is?”
Grant shook his head. “According to his sons, he disappeared about a month before the first shooting happened and hasn’t been home since, although he’s maintained sporadic contact with both boys. The only thing they know for sure is he plans to see this through all the way. He has no intention of going home again.”
“Oh, Jesus.” Dana murmured. “What happens now?”
There was a storm brewing. Kellen could feel it in her bones, smell it in the wind, and sense it in the tension in the air.
She sat on the front step of her cabin, Bogart by her feet, and stared out into the growing darkness. Shadows slipped and fell, pushing and pulling at her from all directions. But they didn’t change the one incontrovertible fact echoing in her head.
Douglas Broussard was out there somewhere.
The truth cut through her, bringing with it a penetrating chill. She’d felt his presence before. The only difference was then he had been an unknown presence. Now she knew who he was. She could put a face to the specter shadowing her life.
The FBI had made it clear they were prepared to wait him out. They said he was hurt and, sooner or later, he’d be unable to continue the game of cat and mouse he was currently playing with her. He would act more rashly and make a mistake. And when he did, they’d be ready.
But Kellen didn’t want to think about the endless possibilities that lay between sooner and later. Because she knew Broussard would do whatever he needed, including hurt people who were important to her. Anything that meant driving her out from behind a phalanx of FBI protection, if only for a second or two.
According to Grant, he was that good. He wouldn’t need much more than an instant to take her out. She shuddered and wondered if that was meant to somehow reassure and comfort her.
It will be over quickly
.
The FBI had brought Harrison Parker into the discussion, bringing him up to date and advising him against attending the clinic’s grand opening. True to form, the senator refused to even consider it. Said both he and his wife would be there. For Annie and for Kellen. Even though everyone agreed if Broussard wanted to make a statement, the gala and the number of public figures present would give him a perfect platform.
Which left her exactly where?
Thinking about what was coming and wondering what, if anything, she could do to alter the course of events. Kellen didn’t want to put anyone else at risk. But she also believed she’d been punished enough for some transgression or wrongdoing she hadn’t even committed.
And the cost had been high. Her childhood. Her parents. She’d been left with only memories of horror, ugliness, and betrayals. Remnants of broken dreams. How could she now—
“You must be freezing, sitting out here by yourself. Are you okay?” Dana’s voice wrapped itself around her just before she felt warm hands on her shoulders.
“Just tired.” She started to deflect, then stopped herself. After so many years when there’d been no one, she had never learned how to open herself up. How to share. But the opportunity to make a course correction was lost as her phone rang.
“My son is dead.”
Kellen remained where she was, apprehension running through her, and she wondered how close he was. Was he nearby? She was numbed by the realization he could have her squarely in the crosshairs of his rifle.
“I know Tommy Lee’s dead, Mr. Broussard. I’m sorry. He was a good man.”
“Don’t tell me you’re sorry,” he replied, his voice brimming with unrelieved grief. “You might as well have killed him yourself, filling the boy’s head with thoughts of traveling to godforsaken places and becoming some kind of hero. It’s your fault he got himself killed.”
“Mr. Broussard—”
“Don’t bother. There’s nothing you can say that will make me change my mind. I’m just calling to tell you that you’ll pay through everything and everyone you love. You will know a hurt so deep you won’t want to go on. By the time I’m done, you’ll be begging me to kill you. That’s a promise.”
He hung up as if the conversation was finished, leaving Kellen holding the phone to her ear a few seconds longer. She knew she should call Grant. But not yet. Not yet.
*
Dana watched her for a long moment, not bothering to be subtle about it. Kellen’s face was still and pale. And when she looked into her eyes, for an instant it was as if Kellen allowed her in, and she could see something dark and anxious and heavy.
“That was him.”
Kellen nodded slowly.
“What did he say to you, Kellen?” When Kellen remained silent, she tried again. “Tell me what I can do to help.”
“Just be with me.”
The quiet words whispered through her. Touched her in ways and in places she’d never been touched before Kellen entered her life. She didn’t understand how it had happened any more than she understood the quickening that burned through her every time Kellen was near.
Uncertain what to do, she did the only thing that occurred to her. She sat on the front step beside Kellen, wrapped her arm around her, and drew her closer. And then she waited for Kellen to talk about whatever a killer had just said to her.
“This place—Broussard is threatening this place and everyone in it. Everyone who means anything to me.”
“He’s trying to get to you,” Dana said. “He wants to frighten you.”
“He succeeded.” The emotion was evident in her voice. “And if you leave—”
“What?” Dana turned Kellen’s face toward her until their gazes met and locked. “Why would I leave? What’s going on?”
“I was thinking—”
“Thinking too much is more like it.”
“That may be.” She shrugged and looked away. “But it occurs to me if you stay here, if you’re anywhere near me, for as long as Broussard is out there trying to hurt me, it puts you at risk. So I’ll understand if you leave, if you choose to go someplace else, someplace safe. In fact, that might be the smartest thing to do. But then I’d no longer fit in your life. This is the only place I’ve ever fit. Either way, I stand to lose you.”
Her voice stopped Dana cold. It was filled with pain and pleading and hope. And Dana knew she had to formulate her response carefully. Thoughtfully. Without putting any more pressure on—
fuck it
.
“Kellen, that’s just crazy,” she said calmly. “I’m not going anywhere. What’s more, I have no intention of going anywhere in the foreseeable future. Not without you, unless it’s a beach somewhere we can skinny-dip and make love under the stars. So you might as well get used to the idea.”
“Promise?” As soon as the word escaped her, Kellen shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. Please don’t answer that. I’m not being fair and it’s not realistic.”
Dana lifted a hand and smoothed a silky dark strand of hair from Kellen’s face, tucking it behind her ear. She knew with everything going on around them, it would be crazy to even think of making a promise right now.
“I promise,” she said. “And just so we’re clear, you may not think so, but you fit just fine with me. It also doesn’t matter where we are, although I’m really hoping it’s here, because I really like it here. What’s more, you like it here and the girls like it here.”
Dana glanced at the sky, at the dark storm clouds rolling in. She reached over and took Kellen’s hand and pulled her to her feet. “Let’s go inside. The storm’s coming in faster than they predicted and I, for one, would like to watch it while curled up on the sofa in front of the fire. With you. But right now, it would be like holding an ice cube. Once you’re warm again, while we still have cell service, we’ll find Grant and tell him about Broussard’s call.”
She thought Kellen might argue with her. But it seemed the call from Broussard had taken the fight out of her. At least for tonight.
“Okay.”
*
Kellen glanced out the window as she refilled her coffee cup. The wind had died down and was no longer howling like a wounded beast. But the front edge of the storm had already dropped over a foot of fresh snow and the weather service was predicting more snow and gale-force winds were still to come.
In the meantime, white shrouded everything familiar and Kellen felt completely disoriented.
Symbolic of my life?
Maybe so, because for the first time in her life, she had no idea what to do. No viable options. All she had were her instincts, and she was afraid they were all wrong, at least as far as Dana was concerned.
She tried to imagine returning to a life without Dana, and the bleakness of the prospect shook her. She then tried to think about all the things she couldn’t control and nearly laughed. Because at the moment, that seemed to apply to everything in her life. Including the escalating discussion between Dana and Grant.
“Why can’t you track his cell phone?” Dana asked.
“If he calls again, we can try. But you can’t expect too much,” Grant said.
“You’re saying it won’t help.”
He looked at the ceiling for a long minute and finally relented as he turned back to Dana. “Let me try to explain. The most common method of locating a cell phone is through the use of triangulation. Since phones connect to multiple towers, signal strength is analyzed and the distance from each tower is estimated. The more towers a phone is connected to, the better the estimation.”
“But—”
“But it takes time and all it will end up telling us is what general part of the forest he was in when he called, not what tree he was hiding behind.”
“Well, damn.” Dana blew out a hard breath. “Then what do you propose to do?”
Grant turned to Kellen as if seeking her intervention. She responded with a gentle shake of her head. There was no way she was getting in front of a clearly agitated Dana Kingston. Actually, she wanted to get out of the cabin.
Maybe she could take Bogart out, stop by the clinic to make sure everyone was all right, and then bring the girls back to her cabin for the night. Neither Cody nor Ren did well with storms, and with Broussard’s whereabouts unknown, she wanted to keep them close.