Alex (In the Company of Snipers) (12 page)

“What are their names?” The longing in her voice shredded his heart.

“Tommy and Jackie.”

“Are they safe?”

“I don’t know.”

He held his breath as she studied him, her eyes full of frustration. Neither the names of her sister or her sons had raised so much as an eyebrow.

“If that Nick guy hurt me like this ….” She looked at Alex, the horrible question unasked. “It’s awful not to remember your children, isn’t it?”

Her words struck a startling chord in his heart. For some reason, every conversation with this woman bared the tenderest part of his soul, leaving him exposed, vulnerable, and thinking too much. Until now, thoughts of his daughter had only meant pain, but Kelsey’s question made him wonder. What would his life be like today without all those memories? Yes, he had to give Abby back much too soon, but he’d had her for six incredible years that were priceless beyond compare. Without realizing it, he brushed his knuckles to his cheek as butterfly kisses reached through the years. The memory of Abby’s smiling blue eyes came back to him. She loved him–still.

Kelsey sat watching, her eyes shining with trust. He saw her clearly now. There wasn’t any part of her not tuned to him. Maybe it was just that they were alone, far from civilization and dependent on each other. Maybe it was just the horrible circumstances of her situation. Whatever the reason, they had become human radar transmitters and receivers, each picking up the slightest nuance, wish, and hope from the other without any effort at all.

His heart thudded loudly in his ears. Even now, the tip of her tongue on her healing lip excited nerve endings he hadn’t felt in years. He wasn’t dead after all. No. The light in her eyes drew him in like a too willing moth to the certain death of a beguiling flame. He changed the subject to break her tender gaze. Somehow in their short time together, she had become much too dear. He didn’t want to lose her, too.

“We hike out tomorrow,” he said gruffly. “Can you do it?”

“I can.” She glanced into the trees. He read her body language loud and clear. She was scared.

“Listen to me. Whisper and Smoke are highly trained working dogs, plus I’m armed. We’ll get you out of here safe and sound, okay?”

She concentrated on the shiny fur of the beast snoring beside her. Whisper’s feet twitched in his sleep. “This is a highly trained attack dog?” Her eyes sparkled with unexpected mischief.

“Yeah, well ….” Alex relaxed. Her gentle jab diffused the tension he felt. “He does have his moments, don’t you, old hound?”

Whisper looked up with one bleary eye and went right back to sleep.

“You’re a bit of a smartass, you know that?”

She shrugged. “I guess. Everything was getting so serious. Besides, the cobbler’s all gone.”

He smirked at her implication that he had eaten the entire dessert by himself. “How’s the road rash?”

“Mostly I just need Advil now.”

“Muscle aches?”

“No, for my head.”

“Headaches?” Without thinking, he smoothed her hair back over her ear. He paused, as his fingers cupped the edge of her jaw. An arc of electricity drew his eyes to hers. Again, he noticed the depth to those brown wells of mischief and the wide-open innocence of a kind woman. She broke the spell.

“I have a pretty crappy life. Bet you wished you’d never found me.”

“No,” he declared, his voice husky. “I’m glad I found you. You’ve just had more than your share of trouble.”

She leaned into his hand with a sigh, her eyes closed.

“Don’t be scared,” he whispered.

“I’m not,” she said softly. “I’m not scared at all.”

He trailed his hand down her jaw and pinched her chin gently when he remembered she was the wife of another man. The pinch was an innocent act of endearment that covered his true feelings. If he kissed her once, everything would be worse. Dusting the shavings off his jeans, he got to his feet and tossed the chunk of wood he had been carving into her lap.

“I’ve had a long day,” he announced. “I’m going to bed.”

His feet were on the porch before he glanced back to gauge her reaction to the gift he had given. It was still a rough piece of pine, but now a German shepherd with a droopy ear peered from the wood. He had carved the grain around the dog’s face into feathers, like Whisper was in any way her guardian angel. She didn’t have to say a word. The light in her eyes told him everything. He let her sit alone by the fire for just another minute.

“You coming in?” He retrieved his rifle from its corner of the porch and stood waiting at the door, not willing to let her linger outside without him.

She smiled.

His heart stuttered loud and clear. Yeah. It was happening. He cared. A lot.

Eight

Alex

The next morning, Alex was up before the crack of dawn. With his backpack slung over one shoulder and his rifle on the other, he was anxious to get away from the cabin and have this final task finished once and for all. As an extra precaution, he had also strapped his thigh holster on this morning and secured his pistol where it belonged. He worried about Kelsey though. She was better. He just hoped she was strong enough for a long hike.

Focusing on her safety pushed his other thoughts away. They lingered just the same. Last night, he had tossed and turned. Try as he might, he could not get his brain to shut up and let him sleep. No. All night long, it reminded him of the genteel lady in the next room of his ramshackle man-cave. His ears followed every little creak of that beat up old cot she slept on, every sigh that left her lips. He had even heard her quiet whisper of good night to his dogs. That was sweet, but when he heard the cot squeak, he knew Whisper had climbed up onto the cot with her. For some stupid reason, Alex wanted to push the mutt back to the floor where he belonged. She would have her arms around his silly dog’s neck, and Whisper would have his chin across her chest, and—

For hell’s sake, Stewart. Knock it off.

Kelsey seemed to understand the seriousness of the day. She was up, dressed, and ready to go at first light. She wore her cut-off jeans again and the pink T-shirt. Alex loaned her one of his flannel shirts to ward off the morning chill. She looked good in flannel, more so because it was his. He smirked. She would look good in anything.

When they set out, Alex let both dogs run. Whisper and Smoke were a lot like children. They scampered ahead for a couple minutes but always came back to see where their slower companions were. Whisper was comical at every squirrel or chipmunk hole he encountered. He hunched himself up into a tight spring with his front paws against his chest while he nearly stood on his back legs. Then the big mutt dived straight into the hole like a furry submarine. He snuffed so hard it looked like he might vacuum the rodent out of its hole with his big old nose. Kelsey’s laugh at the goofy dog’s antics made Alex smile. It was a pleasant start to the day. He pushed the inevitable good-bye out of his mind.

After a good romp, he called the dogs back and gave them the command to guard. Something wasn’t right. The sixth sense of a sniper was keen in his head this morning. The rule was simple.
If you ever get a creepy sensation you’re being watched, you probably are.

“We need to keep moving.”

She obeyed without question. The wind blew lightly in their faces, which wasn’t good. It meant the dogs wouldn’t scent anyone behind them. He didn’t think Durrant was savvy in the woods, but anything was possible, even with a half-wit. The early morning breeze created a huge blind spot in the playing field. As they stepped up their pace, she tired faster. At last, he selected a fallen tree to rest behind.

“Get down.” He pulled her down with him as he crouched against the tree. There was a hard tone in his voice this morning. He meant business. “Whisper. Smoke. Guard.”

Instantly, both dogs sat alongside Kelsey, but she protested. “No, it’s okay. I don’t need to rest yet. I can go farther.” Despite her words, she held her side. “How far do you think we’ve walked?”

“Two. Maybe three miles.” He glanced around the area, watching and listening for the slightest deviation in the natural landscape, the glint of a rifle barrel, the odor of cigarettes, anything. He couldn’t shake the apprehension he felt.

“Here.” He offered her a bottle of water.

“Thanks.” She took a sip and replaced the lid. “You’re awfully quiet.”

“Just cautious,” he said. Then he noticed she rubbed her left foot. The light canvas shoe didn’t fit quite right. In a second, he had the shoe off. One of the long bones on the top of her foot jutted upward in a pointed bump, obviously an old break. With all her other injuries, he hadn’t thought to examine her feet.

“When were you going to tell me about this?” The words snapped out of him.

Her face blanched white, and he wanted to call his rudeness back. “Sorry. How long have you had this break?” he asked more gently.

“It doesn’t hurt. Really. It’s just a little sore,” she apologized. “It rubs on my shoe.”

Silently, he berated himself. He should’ve noticed this a lot sooner. It was his fault, not hers. She slid the shoe back over her foot just as something crashed through the brush. The dogs heard it, too. Both scrambled around the log as Alex jumped to his feet and peeled the rifle off his shoulder. He instantly relaxed. It was just a doe, grunting as she trotted quickly past their resting position. Something must have spooked her. Whisper and Smoke watched her go. His cell phone vibrated at his belt as the deer continued west.

“Stewart.” He turned away from Kelsey as he took the call.

Alex,” Murphy said quietly. Right away, Alex knew this was not a good news call. “Just heard from the Pierce County Sheriff. Thought you should know.”

“And?”

“They found the Durrant boys last night, at least what’s left of them.”

“Where?”

“Henderson Bay. Sonofabitch drowned them in her car.”

“Positive ID?”

“Yes.” Murphy sounded sad. “Plenty of evidence, too. ME puts time of death ten days ago.”

“Witnesses?”

“A couple teenage girls. They were on the beach. Saw a blond guy in a wet suit who matched Durrant’s description. He came out of the water, changed into some clothes, smoked a joint, and just stood there like he was looking at something in the water. They’re the ones who called the sheriff’s department.”

Alex steeled his face to mask his feelings. Kelsey needed to get back to civilization before he dropped this bombshell.

“Where is he?” He hissed.

“Where are you?” Murphy’s voice hardened with concern.

“Answer the question.”

Alex listened as Murphy muttered an order for Mother to check Durrant’s GPS signal. In a second, he was back on the line.

“He’s right on top of you, son.”

He snapped the phone shut without another word. He turned and studied the landscape. Nothing moved in any direction, but he knew better. He cursed to himself. How was that lazy sonofabitch all of a sudden so close to them? Tommy and Jackie’s smiling faces filled his mind. He choked at what he was about to do to their sweet mother.

“You ever shoot a gun?” He turned to Kelsey, maintaining his best drill sergeant voice.

“I don’t think so,” she whispered. “Why?”

He unsnapped his pistol from his thigh holster and held it out to her. “Take this.”

She shook her head. “Ah, no.”

“I said take it,” he snapped.

With shaking fingers, she accepted the gun, but it was apparent she didn’t know how to handle it.

“Please don’t hit me,” she whispered anxiously.

That plea jolted him back to her reality. “Kelsey,” he said in surprised anguish. “Why do you think I would ever hit you?”

She scrunched her shoulders like a little girl. “I don’t know, but … you’re so mad.”

He blew out a big breath of frustration as he re-thought how to train this frightened woman in less than five minutes. “I’d never hit you,” he murmured, “and I’m not mad at you. I just need you to be safe.”

“Why?” she asked timidly. By now she was shaking like a leaf. She glanced around the forest. “Is he here?”

“He’s close,” Alex said grimly. “I don’t want you hurt again.”

“Okay.” She held the gun in two fingers, her arm extended like she was holding something dirty and didn’t want to touch it.

“Don’t hold it like that,” he groused as he pulled her to his side and took her hand in his. The second their bodies touched he felt the familiar arc of electricity. Her hip molded perfectly against his, even more so when he wrapped his arm around her and took her trembling hands in his. He focused on gun basics, trying to ignore the effect she had on his male body. This had better be a quick lesson or he was in trouble.

“It’s a nine-millimeter. It won’t hurt you if you handle it right. Now listen. To shoot, hold it straight in front of you like this, fingers alongside, but not on the trigger. That’s good. Now cup your left hand under your right. Good. See this lever right here?” He pointed to the safety. She shivered, and it was all he could do to not set the gun aside and comfort her in all ways possible. His instincts screamed, “Hold her. She needs you.” He couldn’t.