A Twist of Betrayal (16 page)

This man had a military haircut, broad nose and strong jaw with a pointed chin, complete with a dimple.

But his eyes were the same icy blue. He wore a black T-shirt, showing every muscle, as if advertising she’d better not mess with him. Camo pants with what must have been twenty pockets, finished his fashion statement. At least, this time, he held no gun in his hand.

Still, the fact that he did nothing to hide his face from her sent her heart pounding.

“Have a nice nap?” he barked.

She licked her lips, trying to bring some moisture to her sticky-feeling, suddenly dry mouth.

“What, cat got your tongue?” he asked.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” she said. “Please.”

He studied her for a long moment. “Okay.”

He even reached out a hand to her as if to help her to her feet.

She stared at his hand.

“I’m not all bad,” he assured her.

His words didn’t convince her. Eyeing him carefully, she scrambled to her feet without his help.

“Don’t try anything stupid,” he said.

Justine fought the urge to chuckle. What did he expect her to say?
Oh, I’m going to. I plan to escape out the bathroom window as soon as I get the chance. And if you catch me, feel free to pop me in the face again.

“I just have to go the bathroom. I can’t wait any longer.” At least that much was true.

Light poured in through the windows, illuminating the large room of the cabin. It wasn’t stuffy or cool as it had been the previous night. But then there was a fire burning in the fireplace. The state trooper, still wearing his uniform coat, was on the floor, his hands handcuffed behind him around the single beam of the room. He looked like he was sleeping. The gash on his head had scabbed over. To her relief, his chest moved with his breathing.

She pushed her sleeves up slightly. It was then she noticed her anniversary bracelet was gone.

“What?” he demanded, noticing her hesitation.

“Nothing,” she replied quickly. The bracelet had been tucked up the sleeve of her sweatshirt, and she hadn’t even thought about it when he’d demanded her jewelry during the robbery. Now she wondered briefly where it could be.

“If you’ve got to go, it’s through that door right there,” he said.

Justine went into the small bathroom and looked around. She noticed that two or three of the floorboards moved with her steps and she was careful not to trip.

“Leave the door open,” he instructed.

She looked at him, as he stood in the doorway. “Do you plan to watch?” she asked evenly, feeling stronger now that she was out in the light and not suffocating in the dark.

“Do I have to?” he asked in reply.

Justine looked at the small bathroom window.

“The window’s painted shut,” he said.

She looked beyond him into the kitchen. She saw the stolen money scattered on the old table there, along with her wedding ring, a wallet, and other pieces of jewelry.

As if he read her mind, he said, “I’ll be right out there. You won’t be able to get past me, but you’re welcome to try if you want.”

With that, he turned and left. There was nothing she could do but what her body demanded. She didn’t plan to try and get past him. One, she couldn’t stand the thought of having his hands touch her, and she knew if he chased her down, that’s what he would do. Two, if she were going to develop any sort of trust with this man, she was going to have to start here and now. She was going to have to proceed as she’d done the night before, since she couldn’t sit and do nothing.

That didn’t mean she came out of the bathroom in any hurry. Her reflection in the small medicine cabinet mirror above the sink revealed a woman she’d never seen before. Her nose was swollen, and appeared too big for her face. No wonder it felt weird.

The dried blood on her chin and above her top lip was enough to send a shiver up her spine. She shook her hair to get out some of the dust, but there was nothing she could do about the dark circles under her eyes.

Carefully, Justine washed off the blood. The cool water from the tap felt good on her cheeks and washed away the dry, cracked feeling on her hands from working with the grout the day before. She did her best not to touch her nose. It wasn’t exactly a much-needed shower, but the water splashed on her face was better than nothing. And the water she drank from her cupped hands cooled her dry throat.

She heard him toss more logs on the fire. Slowly, she made her way back out to the kitchen.

“Can I have something to eat?” she asked. The table was between them and he stood at the hearth. Justine chose to keep it that way.

He ignored her as he stoked the fire.

“Please,” she said after a moment when it seemed like he would continue to ignore her. “I have a medical condition, and I need to eat or I’m afraid I might get really sick. You wouldn’t want that, would you?” She needed to eat to keep away the morning sickness.

He met her gaze. “So Dan married a woman with a ‘medical condition?’ I’m surprised he’d have anything less than perfect.”

Justine wished for nothing more than a bolt of lightning to strike him. But when it didn’t happen, she muttered, “Please.”

He drew closer, moving around the unconscious man on the floor. As he passed her, he stopped and looked at her sideways. “I’m not going to have to run out for insulin or anything like that, am I?”

“No.”

“Good.” He reached out as if to touch her face, and Justine stepped back, out of his reach. He grinned at her before moving into the small kitchen area of the cabin where he rummaged through a couple cabinets.

Justine watched him quietly, taking in the fact that the cabinets held little more than dust.

“Let’s see what’s on the menu. I have crackers with canned cheese. I have power bars. I have tuna and canned chicken. And bottled water. What can I get for you?” He mimicked a waiter.

“Crackers and cheese and a bottle of water, please.”

“Here,” he said a moment later, setting it out on the small table. He added a power bar and a chocolate bar, as if for good measure.

“Thank you.” Justine sat down at the small table and opened the box of crackers.

“You can stay out here as long as you don’t try anything stupid,” he said.

“Okay.” She crunched a cracker. She might have agreed, but her plan was to run if she saw an opportunity.

“But if you try to get away or anything,” he went on, “or give me any trouble, you’ll be back in the room tied up tighter than ever.”

“Okay.” She spread cheese on a cracker, planning to eat several, so she’d have the strength to run.

“Good.”

To her surprise, he sat down across from her. Then, as if they were sharing a snack together, he reached over and fixed himself a cracker with cheese before fitting the whole thing into his mouth.

“Don’t you even want to know my name?” he asked absently.

“I don’t want to know anything about you,” she said. She ate her cracker and felt it hit the bottom of her stomach. It wasn’t caviar, but she was starving, and it did wonders with helping her feel better. She stared down at the chocolate bar after she took a bite of it and tried to remember the last time she tasted anything so wonderful.

She remembered making a celebration dinner after they’d gotten a contract on the house they wanted, the house they now owned and renovated. Dan was late, obviously caught up in something at work. To make it up to her, he brought her chocolates and they’d fed them to one another by candlelight.

Her captor brought her back to the present. “Don’t lie to me and act like you don’t want to know anything. I know you. I’ve watched you for several months, even saw you in court. Questions are burning in your gut right now.” He stuffed another cracker into his mouth.

Justine took her time making another cracker, slowly spreading the cheese evenly without looking at him, not giving him the satisfaction of letting him know what he said was true. Yes, questions did burn her insides. What burned more was the idea of the creep stalking her.

“Deke Rynolds.”

He spoke as if his name should mean something to her. She hardly threw him a glance and studied her cracker before eating it. She had to fight not to shove the cracker in her mouth, she was so hungry. At the same time, she didn’t want any lengthy conversations with this man. She didn’t want to know his name. Her only comfort was that he’d have to state it in court when he was charged with kidnapping. What she did want was to gain his trust to give herself some leeway in a possible chance of escape. That was it.

At the same time, there was one question she could not ignore. She washed her cracker down with a sip of the bottled water. “What did you mean when you said my husband was wanted by the FBI?”

Chapter 18

Dan watched the gray of dawn break through the dark of night as he headed home from the Albrights. He hadn’t known he’d stayed so long with him. He wanted nothing more than to race to where he bet Deke held Justine, but he needed to plan, needed to gather supplies and be his best when he met his past adversary.

Deke would be waiting for him and had been given time to make a plan. Dan needed to do the same if he was going to beat Deke at this game.

At home, Dan made himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich because he didn’t feel like cooking. That was why Justine had gone to the store to begin with. The last thing he wanted was something to eat, but it had been over twelve hours since lunch. If he was going to go after Deke Rynolds, he needed to be in top form.

But even the sweetness of the jelly and the stickiness of the peanut butter couldn’t move through the walls of emptiness that threatened to close in on him.

So he sat and slowly chewed, taking one deep breath after another as he waited, planning what was best to take with him. He needed firepower, but he needed a light load.

Why hadn’t Deke called yet?

Just what the hell was he planning?

Knowing Deke, it was a trap. That was why Dan needed to be ready for anything.

When Dan finished his sandwich, he fought down the empty, lost, and helpless feeling that threatened him. He didn’t have time for that shit.

“Dammit!” he said suddenly into the emptiness. With a force that stung, he slammed his hand against the table, sending a sound as loud as a gunshot through the still house. He didn’t have time to question whether or not he could live a life past his history with Deke.

He could.

He would.

For himself. For Justine. For the baby.

The thought of the baby stopped him cold as he stood in the bathroom about to put on a clean, camouflage shirt.

“A baby…” He forced himself to acknowledge that the child existed. But to acknowledge it also meant he had to face the fact that he might not be able to save the baby. It would be another innocent lost—his worst nightmare—and he wasn’t ready for that. Not yet.

He stopped and the house was completely silent. Oh, it was so hard not to let go of the few remaining strings that held his restraint together. He wanted to close his eyes to all of this and not look. He wanted to fall into a deep sleep with the hope that he wouldn’t awake until this nightmare was over.

No, what he really wanted was to go back in time and kill that bastard, Deke Rynolds.

He looked around the house.
Their
house. They’d made it home together for the past year. Dan thought back to the day they signed the papers. Justine had insisted they stay overnight in it and when he called out on a disturbance, he’d discovered her there with an air mattress, picnic basket and champagne. They’d christened the house that first night and built it a little more every day into what they both called home. He could not, would not, allow Deke to tear one piece of it apart.

In the quiet loneliness, it was too easy to let in horrible mental images of what might be happening to Justine. And he refused to let them in.

He absolutely could not think of his wife as being hurt, tortured or even dead, not at Deke’s hands, not at anyone’s hands.

Dan slipped his shirt on, mentally listing what he planned to take.

His insides shook. He thought he was just too close to falling apart. He forced himself to calm and tried to clear his mind, determined to get his wife back.

Just when he felt ready to head out and face Deke, he glanced down and something in the bottom of the small bathroom trash can caught his eye.

He stared down for a long moment before he reached in and fished out the object. It was small and narrow. He’d never seen one in actuality, but he knew immediately what it was.

It was a pregnancy test.

A positive pregnancy test.

“Oh, hell…” he breathed, unable to look away from what he held.

His words and his ragged breath and the rushing sounds of his own heart beat in his ears were all that broke the utter suffocating silence that surrounded him.

His legs weren’t strong enough to hold him up. He let himself sink to the floor in order to keep from falling flat on his face.

A baby. There really was a baby growing in Justine. Never mind the thought of diapers and new shoes every few months. Never mind that there might be Scouts, little league or ballet classes in the future. Never mind that he didn’t want it. Some little person was coming into this world in a few months. That little person was going to need a lot for a long time, probably forever.

Dan stared at the positive test in his hand for a long time. Strange, he didn’t feel any anger, not like he had when she first blurted out the news yesterday. Now he merely felt wonder. She’d obviously stopped taking her pill or missed a day.

He’d asked her what she planned to do about it. But the bigger question was what did
he
plan to do about it? Stick it out with her, raise this baby? Walk away? She thought he didn’t want it, and he’d let her think that. He’d never told her the truth. He’d never told her how important family was to him. Given the way he’d lost his parents when he was young, deep in his heart, this was all he’d ever really wanted. Mom, Dad, kids. It just hurt too much to know he could never have it, so he kept it hidden beneath the lie that he didn’t want it because he saw so many troubled kids.