Security Blanket (7 page)

How the hell does my son know you?

Lucky hadn’t been able to provide an answer to Howard Sheppard, nor had he speculated to the man. He’d ended the inquisition by walking away. Now, two hours later, he still didn’t know the answer to Howard’s question.

Was the e-mail bogus? And if it was real, did that mean Dexter knew who Lucky really was and why he was at the ranch?

Of course, another possibility was that Howard had asked Dexter to make that demand. After all, what better and faster way to get Lucky off the ranch than to tie Dexter’s homecoming to his departure? It would give Howard and Lois everything they wanted.

Their son’s return.

And their daughter and grandson at the ranch with no ally, other than Marin’s grandmother, who was too old to put up much of a fight. After all, Helen hadn’t been able to stop the Sheppards so far. That’s why Lucky had refused to leave and then ordered Marin’s parents out of the room.

Well, it was one of the reasons anyway.

That kissing session with Marin was another.

Pushing that uncomfortable thought aside, Lucky concentrated on the images from the surveillance disks on his laptop. So far, he hadn’t seen anything or anyone suspicious, and he’d been looking for well over an hour. He’d hoped to have spotted Dexter doing something incriminating by now.

He heard Noah stir, and Lucky got up from the desk to check on him. But Noah was still sleeping peacefully in the crib in the sitting room.

Lucky leaned down, gave Noah a light kiss on the cheek and turned to go back to the bedroom, but another sound stopped him. Marin came out of the bathroom. Toweling her damp hair, she was dressed in a turquoise-blue robe that was nearly the same color as her eyes.

She didn’t look so pale now, probably because the hot steamy shower had given her skin a pinkish flush. She’d changed the bandage on her forehead, replacing it was a Band-Aid that covered the stitches. It was less noticeable, even though it still exposed the bruise left from the impact.

“Everything okay?” she asked in a whisper.

He nodded. “Just making sure he’s all right.”

Marin walked closer, close enough for him to catch her scent. Lucky hadn’t remembered strawberry shampoo ever smelling that good.

“It’s probably best that you try to distance yourself from him,” she said, her voice still soft. “Since you’ll only be around him a couple more days, I don’t want him to get too attached.”

Lucky thought it might be too late for that. For both of them. But Marin was right. Noah wasn’t his to claim, even though his feelings for Noah were the most real thing he’d felt since his sister’s death. Noah was young and wouldn’t remember him, but Lucky would certainly remember the little boy.

“The same applies to us,” Marin added, scratching her eyebrow. She shifted her position and adjusted the sash on her robe. “That kiss in the closet shouldn’t have happened.”

He had to agree with that, even though saying it to himself didn’t make the sensations go away.

“I want to kiss you again,” he admitted.

Her shoulders snapped back. “But you won’t,” she insisted, sounding about as convinced as Lucky felt. “We need to keep our hands off each other.”

“It’s not my hands you should be worried about,” he mumbled, causing her to laugh.

“Tell you what, if the kissing urge hits us again,” she said, “let’s make ourselves count to ten. That might give us just enough time to realize what a huge mistake we’d be making.”

Right.

The side of her bathrobe slipped a little, easing off her shoulder. Her
bare
shoulder. And he got just a glimpse of the top of her right breast and her nipple.

“Oh, man. You’re not wearing anything beneath that bathrobe?”

She jerked the sides together to close the gap. “I came out to check on Noah. Then, I was going to get dressed.”

“So you’re naked?”

Why couldn’t he just let this subject drop? Because he was suddenly aroused beyond belief.

So, he did something totally stupid. He reached out, caught on to her shoulders.

And yeah, he kissed her again, all the while convincing himself that if he stopped, she’d give into the emotion caused by the danger and the adrenaline. She’d get worried and depressed again. He also tried to convince himself that he wasn’t enjoying it, that it was therapeutic.

A bald-faced lie.

He was enjoying the heck out of it. The feel of her mouth against his. The way she fit in his arms. The hot-as-sin scent of hers stirring around him. Yes, he was enjoying it.

And he wasn’t the only one.

Marin moaned in pure pleasure. That’s when he knew he had to stop. With Noah only a couple of inches away, this couldn’t continue.

He pulled away from her, ran his tongue over his bottom lip and wasn’t surprised when he tasted her there. It was a taste that might be permanently etched into his brain.

“We shouldn’t have done that, either,” she grumbled. “With all the emotional baggage that each of us has, it wouldn’t work between us. Every time you look at me, you’ll see my brother, the man you blame for your sister’s death.”

“You’re right,” he said. Except it was partly a lie. Marin would always be Dexter’s sister, but she was also her own woman.

And he was attracted to her.

Still, Marin was correct. They shouldn’t be kissing. Maybe if he said it enough to himself, his body would start to listen. Heaven knows it hadn’t listened to anything else he’d demanded it not do.

Lucky tried to get his mind back on business. “While you were in the shower, I got another call from my friend Cal Rico. He’s a special agent in the Justice Department, and he’s the one responsible for getting those surveillance disks to the sheriff who got them to me.”

“Have you found anything?” she asked.

“Not yet. I’m still looking. But Cal let me know that he’s using department resources to look into the e-mail Dexter sent your father.”

“I think that e-mail was a hoax. It might be my father’s way of trying to get you to leave.”

Marin and he were obviously on the same page. “Either way, Cal will find out the origin of the e-mail.”

Lucky didn’t doubt his friend’s ability, but verifying the e-mail was a long shot. If Dexter had indeed sent the e-mail, then he would have almost certainly covered his tracks.

Marin turned and tipped her head toward his laptop. “So, what have you seen on those surveillance disks?”

“A lot of people. Not Dexter though. But if he came onto the train, he was probably wearing a disguise.” He paused. “Maybe you could take a look at them and see if you can spot him.”

She frowned, then nodded. “All right. But for the record, I don’t expect to see him. I think we should be looking for Grady Duran.”

“Absolutely. But since you know what he looks like, as well, this might go faster with both of us going over the surveillance.” But he rethought that when he glanced at the bandage on her head. “Then again, why don’t you get some rest, and I’ll finish reviewing the disks.”

“I’ll help,” she insisted, going straight for the desk.

Lucky huffed, but he knew it wouldn’t do any good to try to talk her out of this. He was quickly learning that Marin was as stubborn as he was.

That only made him want her more.

“By the way,” he whispered, just in case there was a bug in the room. “Are there any extra linens around?” He glanced at the bed as they walked past it. “I’m thinking it’s not a good idea if we share the same mattress.”

She understood completely. “The extra bedding’s in the linen closet. Next to my parents’ room. Probably not a good idea to advertise the fact we need two sleeping areas.”

True. They already had enough issues with Howard and Lois. “No problem. I’ll just take the floor.”

“We could build a barrier with the pillows—”

He stopped and stared at her mouth. “I get your point,” she conceded. “Pillows wouldn’t be much of a barrier.”

Heck, he wasn’t sure being on the floor would be much of a barrier, either, but Lucky knew he wouldn’t get a minute of sleep next to her. And he needed a clear head along with a little sleep to get through the next two days.

Lucky clicked the resume feature on the surveillance disk, and images immediately appeared on the screen. Marin dragged a chair next to his, and they sat, silently. Since Lucky figured a visual aid might help Marin, he took out the photo of Dexter, Grady Duran, his sister and Brenna Martel and positioned it next to his laptop.

“This is the station in Fort Worth, where we both got on,” he explained. “The security cameras were on the entire time that passengers were boarding.” He backtracked the disk to show her the recorded image of Noah and her.

Lucky was about ten yards behind them.

Several times during that brief walk from the terminal to the train, Marin glanced back, but each time Lucky tried to make sure he disappeared in the crowd.

“Well, if I didn’t notice you,” she remarked, “then I could have missed Grady Duran.”

“Or your brother.”

That earned him a scowl that he probably deserved, and they continued to watch the disk. “Okay, this is where I left off before I went to check on Noah. The train is about to leave. There are only a couple of people left at the terminal door. And none of them look anything like Grady Duran or Dexter.”

“None of those people are carrying a large suitcase, either.”

Without taking her attention from the screen, Marin got up, opened a bottle of pills that she’d placed on the dresser and took one of the tablets, washing it down with a glass of water she took from their dinner tray.

“Pain meds?” Lucky questioned.

“No. I took one of those earlier. This is for my seizures. I have to take them twice a day—a small price to pay for being as normal as I can be.”

Yes. It was. But he wondered how all of this additional stress was affecting her health. “How old were you when you had your first seizure?”

“Twelve. I was riding a roller coaster at an amusement park. Scared the devil out of everyone, including myself. Before that, my parents were only overprotective. After that, they got obsessive.”

He shrugged. “But you said you haven’t had a seizure in years. That should cause them to back off.”

“You’d think.” She gave a heavy sigh and sank down next to him again. “They do love me in their own crazy way. I know that. But they just can’t seem to give up control. They’re scared I’ll have another seizure, and they won’t be around to help me.”

Lucky understood that. He’d felt that way about his sister. And now Noah.

Hell, Marin was on that list, too.

Since it was starting to feel like one of those moments where he wanted to pull Marin in his arms and protect the hell out of her, Lucky just turned his focus back the surveillance images.

And then he saw it.

Just as the train was about to close the boarding doors, a passenger carrying a black suitcase hurried forward. Dressed in a bulky knee-length denim coat, the person wore jeans, gloves and a Texas Rangers baseball cap. With that cap sitting low on the forehead and with the bulky clothes, it was hard to tell who the person was.

Lucky backtracked the disk to the point just prior to boarding, froze the frame and zoomed in.

“Does that look like Dexter?” Lucky asked.

Marin moved even closer to the screen and studied it. “No. The body language is wrong. Dexter didn’t slump like that.”

“Maybe he would if he was trying to keep his face from being seen.” Lucky advanced the disk one frame farther and got a better view of the face. Well, the lower part of it anyway. That cap created a strategic shadow.

Marin shook her head. “It’s not Dexter. Maybe Grady Duran?”

That was the next possibility that Lucky had planned to consider. He rewound even more of the disk, looking for the best face shot possible. When he thought he’d found it, he zoomed in again. And this time, he didn’t have to ask if that was Dexter or Grady Duran.

Because it wasn’t either of the men. It wasn’t a man at all.

He was looking at the face of a dead woman.

His sister, Kinley.

From her chair in the sitting room, Marin finished her scrambled eggs and watched her grandmother feed Noah. Noah and her gran were doing great, but she couldn’t say the same for Lucky.

He still hadn’t moved.

He’d been at that desk in the adjoining bedroom for at least two hours, and it didn’t appear he was going to move anytime soon. Right now, he was on hold, waiting for Agent Cal Rico to come back on the line. With his cell phone sandwiched between his shoulder and ear, his fingers worked frantically on the keyboard of his laptop. What he wasn’t doing was eating his breakfast.

Marin stood, put her mug of tea aside and blew Noah and her grandmother a kiss. She went into the bedroom toward the desk. “Why don’t you come with me for a walk?” she suggested to Lucky.

He didn’t even glance up at her. He kept his attention superglued to the e-mail he was typing on the computer screen. “You should be resting.”

“It’s 9:00 a.m. I’ve already rested. You, on the other hand, haven’t. I know for a fact that you didn’t get much sleep. You were in the bathroom talking on your cell phone most of the night.”

“I’m sorry I kept you up,” he grumbled.

She huffed. “I’m concerned about you, not me.”

He huffed, too. “I’m not tired.”

Oh, yes, he was. And he was frustrated and confused. Marin totally understood why. Before last night, all the evidence pointed to his dead sister having had no part in the wrongdoing at the research facility. But yet there she was in that surveillance video.

“I’m still here,” Lucky quickly said into the phone. Agent Cal Rico had obviously come back on the line, hopefully with some answers.

Lucky paused. “I need your lab to keep trying to enhance that image from the disk.” Another pause. “Yeah, I’m asking the impossible, but I have to know if that was Kinley getting onto the train.”

Another pause, but she could see that Lucky was processing something. “Bits of money?” he questioned. “And you’re sure that was in the suitcase, along with some clothes. Just how big was that explosive device anyway?”

Marin couldn’t hear the agent’s answer, but after several terse answers from Lucky, he jabbed the end-call button and cursed. He lowered his voice to mumble profanity, however, when his attention landed on Helen feeding Noah rice cereal for breakfast. Marin figured there was more cereal on her son and her grandmother than in Noah’s tummy.

Noah grinned when he realized he had everyone’s attention, and Lucky gave him a half-hearted smile in return before he groaned and rubbed his eyes.

That did it. Marin caught on to his arm, and in the same motion, she took his leather jacket from the back of the chair. “We’re taking that walk,” she insisted.

Lucky stood but didn’t move. His stare was a challenge, and it let her know that he had no plans to budge.

“There are things we need to discuss,” she whispered. “And I’d prefer not to do that in a room that’s bugged. Plus, I could use some fresh air.”

He glanced at his laptop, his silent cell phone and then at Noah.

“A
short
walk,” Lucky finally conceded. “I don’t want you out in that cold very long.”

Marin didn’t argue with the restriction. She turned toward the sitting room, but before she could even ask her grandmother if she’d watch Noah for a couple of minutes, the woman was already nodding. “Go ahead. Take as much time as you need.”

She thanked her grandmother, grabbed her coat from the closet, put it on and led Lucky out the enclosed patio exit before he could change his mind.

Thankfully, it wasn’t nearly as cold as it had been the day before. Still, it was in the low fifties, and Marin hugged her coat close to her so that she wouldn’t get a chill.

“About an hour ago, I called a lawyer that I know in Fort Worth,” Marin explained. “I asked him to contact the psychologist to see if he’d cancel the interview since I don’t feel it’s necessary.”

“Don’t count on that happening. The psychologist is probably in your parents’ pockets, as well.”

That might be true, but Marin had to try. Lucky wasn’t in the right state of mind for that interview. Neither was she, and Marin hoped there was still some way to prevent it from happening.

She spotted her mother staring at them from the window, and Marin maneuvered him away from the yard and onto a trail that would take them to the edge of the one of the pastures. “Either way, I want you to leave this morning so you can find your sister.”

He tossed her a puzzling glance. “Leave? If I don’t do that interview, Marin, you could lose Noah.”

Yes, and that terrified her. Still, she couldn’t make Lucky stay, not when he had so much at stake. “But if you don’t look for your sister before the trail goes cold, you might not find her.”

“If that’s really my sister.”

So, he had doubts, as well. “You’re thinking it’s a look-alike?”

He shrugged. “I’m thinking if my sister had been alive for the past year, then she would have already contacted me.”

“I seem to remember saying the same thing to you about Dexter.”

“But my sister wasn’t doing anything illegal.” Then, he frowned. “At least, I don’t think she was.”

Neither was Marin. Anything was possible. “Let’s assume then that it was a look-alike, maybe even someone in disguise. Brenna Martel, maybe?”

“No. I’d recognize Brenna.” He said it so quickly that he’d obviously already considered it. “Plus, there’s also the issue of the blood. Both Brenna’s and my sister’s blood was found all over the floor in Dexter’s research lab. The CSI guys said there was little chance that the women could have survived after losing that much blood.”

But survival was possible. And that led Marin to the next question. “Was the suitcase the woman was carrying the one that contained the explosives?”

“It appears to be. It also contained money and clothes. Agent Rico believes the explosives were hidden in a concealed compartment.”

Since they’d already ruled out the logical explanations, Marin tried out one that was unlikely but still possible. “So, maybe your sister is alive. Maybe she has amnesia from her injuries at the research facility? That would explain why she hasn’t contacted you.”

“But it wouldn’t explain why she got on that train.”

Good point. Marin quickly tried to come up with something to counter that. “Maybe she didn’t know she was carrying explosives?”

“I considered that at about 1:00 a.m. when I checked the records of everyone injured. There was no injured woman fitting my sister’s description. If she hadn’t known she was carrying explosives, then she would have been sitting near the suitcase.”

“Perhaps not. She could have gone to the bathroom or something. She could have changed seats for a variety of reasons. Like maybe some guy was hitting on her.”

The corner of his mouth lifted for a very short smile.

He stopped at a small rocky stream that cut through the pasture. The water created a miniature valley and was banked with chunks of white limestone and slate-gray clay. It was a peaceful spot where she’d spent a lot of time as a kid. A bare pasture was on one side and in the spring would be filled with Angus cattle that would graze there. On the other side was a barn that stored equipment, tractors and massive circular bales of hay.

Lucky could have easily stepped over the stream, but instead he stared into the water. “I want to believe she’s alive and that she’s done nothing wrong. That’d be the best-case scenario. But even if Kinley has amnesia or whatever, she obviously needs help.”

If Grady Duran was gutsy enough to press Marin for answers about Dexter, how hard would he press Kinley? Lucky’s sister could be in danger.

“Let’s go back to the house,” Marin insisted. “I’ll have someone drive you to the train station, the airport or wherever you need to go to find her.”

He continued to look into the water. “That would make your parents very happy. They’d have you right where they want you. Here, alone and in fear of losing your son.”

“I won’t lose Noah,” she promised. “I’ll figure out a way to postpone or cancel that meeting.” Though Marin didn’t have a clue how she was going to do that. “Besides, the lawyer in Fort Worth is sending someone down to talk to the judge and the psychologist.”

“If all that fails, you’d be giving up a lot,” he said. “Just so I can leave.”

He was thinking of her. Well, maybe more Noah than her. But whichever, he was putting himself and his needs after hers.

And Marin couldn’t help but appreciate that.

There it was. That weird intimacy again. It was growing. They seemed to be racing toward some heated passionate encounter that neither of them seemed capable of stopping.

Worse, she wasn’t sure she wanted to stop it.

He reached out and brushed his hand over her arm. Even through the wool coat, she could feel his touch. Then, he trailed those clever fingers over her cheek. The moment was far warmer than it should have been.

But then, Lucky’s hand froze.

“What’s wrong?” Marin asked.

He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. Marin heard the thick roar of the engine and looked in the direction of the sound. A large rust-scabbed tan-colored truck with heavily tinted windows bolted out from the barn.

Her first thought was a ranch hand had loaded the truck bed with hay to take out to one of the other pastures. But there was no hay. The driver, hidden behind all that dark glass, gunned the engine.

The truck came right at them.

L
UCKY’S HEART DROPPED
. This couldn’t be happening.

He drew his weapon and hooked his arm around Marin’s waist. He didn’t wait to see if that truck was the threat that he thought it was.

Waiting was too big of a risk.

Firing shots through that windshield might not be the best idea, either, because shooting would mean stopping to take aim. The driver could be low in the seat, or leaning far to the side, out of range. Lucky couldn’t stand there and shoot when he might not even hit the guy. He had to get Marin out of the path of the oncoming vehicle and then figure out if he needed to stop the driver.

They jumped the shallow stream, and ran like hell. He hoped the soggy clay banks would be enough to slow down the truck.

It wasn’t.

The four-wheel drive went right through it, sloshing rocks and water out from the mammoth-size tires.

So Lucky did the only thing he could do. He continued to run and pulled Marin right along with him.

Glancing back over his shoulder, Lucky tried to assess their situation. It damn sure wasn’t good. That truck was closing in fast. And there was literally no place to hide in an open pasture. Their best bet was to try to double back and get to the barn.

Easier said that done.

The truck was in their path and coming straight for them. And it was quickly eating up the meager distance between them.

“Go right,” Lucky yelled to Marin, hoping that she heard him over the roar of the engine.

Just in case she didn’t, Lucky dragged her in the direction he wanted her to go.

The driver adjusted, and came at them again.

“Who’s doing this?” Marin shouted.

But Lucky didn’t have to time to speculate. Marin and he had to sprint to their right. The truck was so close that Lucky could feel the heat from the engine. And the front bumper missed them by less than a couple of inches.

Marin stumbled. Lucky’s heart did, too. But he didn’t let her fall. A fall could be fatal for both of them. Instead, he grabbed her and zigzagged to their left.

It wasn’t enough.

The driver came right at them, and to avoid being hit, Lucky latched on to Marin even tighter and dove out of the way.

They landed hard on the packed winter soil.

Lucky came up, ready to fire. “Run!” he shouted to Marin.

Thankfully, she managed to do that and started sprinting toward the barn. The truck had to turn around and backtrack to come at him again. Those few precious seconds of time might be the only break they got.

So, Lucky took aim at the windshield and fired.

A thick blast tore through the pasture, drowning out even the sound of the roaring truck engine. The bullet slammed into the safety glass and shattered it, but it stayed in place, concealing the identity of the driver.

Maybe someone from the house would hear the shot and come running. But the house was a good quarter of a mile away, and it might take Marin’s parents or the ranch hands a couple of minutes just to figure out what was going on.

By then, they could be dead.

Lucky dodged another attempt to run him down, repositioned himself and fired again. This bullet skipped off the truck’s roof and sent sparks flying when it ripped through the metal. What it didn’t do was stop the driver.

The truck came at him again.

Lucky dove out of the way. But not before the front bumper scraped against his right thigh.

He fired another shot into the windshield and prayed he could stop the SOB who was trying to kill them.

From the corner of his eye, Lucky spotted Marin running toward the barn. She looked over her shoulder at him, and he could see the terror on her face. Still, she was alive, and the driver didn’t appear to be going after her.

Lucky dove for the ground again, but just like before, the driver adjusted and swung back around. He figured if he could keep this up until Marin got to the barn, then maybe she could call for help.

But on the next turn, the driver changed course. He didn’t come after Lucky. He did a doughnut in the pasture and slammed on the accelerator.

Hell. He was going after Marin.

She was still a good thirty feet from the barn, and even once inside, she might not be protected. This SOB might just drive the truck right in there after her. If that happened, she’d be trapped.

There was no way he could outrun the truck and get to Marin first, so Lucky took aim again and fired. This time, the back windshield blew apart, and he got just a glimpse of the driver.

Whoever it was wore a dark knit cap.

Lucky fired again. And again. Until he saw the truck’s brake lights flash on. Maybe one of the shots had hit him. Lucky hoped so. But just in case this was some kind of ploy to make them think he was hurt, Lucky kept his gun aimed, and he raced forward.