Baby Breakout (11 page)

He avoided the deep ditches on the sides of the road, but metal crunched, bumpers connecting. The van slid again, still Jed held tight to the wheel and accelerated. This time the engine responded, kicking into a higher gear. But even with a working transmission, it couldn’t outrun the more powerful car.

It drew alongside them, on the wrong side of the yellow line. Jed hoped like hell that someone came upon them from the other direction and sent that son of a bitch hurtling into the ditch.

Despite the fact that the sun had finally risen, it was too early for much traffic. Unfortunately, these were the only two vehicles on the road.

The black sedan was longer and heavier than the van, and its windows were tinted nearly as black as the rest of it. So, despite the morning sun that illuminated the inside of the van and Erica’s beautiful face so pale with fear, Jed could not see inside the car.

He had no idea who was after them. The intruder from the apartment? An overly ambitious bounty hunter? Or the devil himself…

But then the passenger window of the car, which was on Jed’s side, lowered. And he caught a glimpse of the driver.

His heart slammed into his ribs, and his hands shook so badly he nearly lost his grip on the steering wheel.

It couldn’t be…

No, it’s not possible
.

He had gone too many days without sleep, so his mind was just playing tricks on him.

That had to be it…

But before Jed could determine whether or not he was hallucinating, the window rose back up.

And the car crashed into the side of the van, sending it spinning out of control…like Jed’s imagination.

Chapter Ten

They weren’t dead. Thanks to Jed. Erica didn’t know how he had managed to keep the van from being totally submerged in the deep ditches on the side of the road. But he had avoided them as well as losing the car that had tried to run them off the road.

There had been no sight of the black vehicle behind them as they had traveled the rest of the way to Rowe Cusack’s secret hideaway—an airplane hangar at an old private airstrip on the outskirts of Detroit.

At first she hadn’t thought it was a meeting place. It seemed more like a means to escape to another country with no extradition. But no matter how much Jed trusted him, Rowe Cusack was still a lawman—who had vowed to uphold and not break the law. And there probably weren’t many laws more severe to break than aiding a fugitive.

But she would learn the legalities for certain once she was caught. She had no illusions now that she wouldn’t be. The prison van had been left in the alley behind her building, and Jed’s fingerprints were all over her home.

And her body…

She tingled in remembrance of how they’d been touching each other before that news bulletin had interrupted them and they’d heard the sirens in the distance. They’d barely gotten out of Miller’s Valley to avoid arrest. Heck, they’d barely gotten out of Miller’s Valley alive, thanks to that black car.

She would love to go to that other country with no extradition. But no fueled plane awaited them as Jed pulled the van inside the nearly empty hangar. He stepped out of the van and came around, opening her door before sliding open the back door. A noise made him tense and turn toward the shadows inside the hangar.

Erica reached for their daughter, unbuckling her car seat to pull her into her arms. She clasped the child tight, willing to die to protect her.

“It’s Rowe,” Jed assured her.

A tall blond-haired man stepped out of the shadows where he must have been waiting to meet them, but he hadn’t come alone. Instead of armed officers, only a dark-haired woman stood inside the hangar with the DEA agent.

The woman could have been an agent, too, but instead of drawing a weapon on Jed, she ran toward him with her arms outstretched. Jed met the woman, catching her up in his arms for a big hug.

Erica’s chest felt tight, her heart compressed, as she watched their joyful reunion. This was the “she” that he’d promised would see him soon. The woman couldn’t have met him while he was in prison, so she must have known him before and well enough to wait for him. And long enough that they would have already been involved before he’d slept with Erica the night their child had been conceived.

Erica clasped her arms more tightly around her daughter, who had somehow managed to fall asleep again after the excitement of their bumper car make-believe.

“Macy!” Jed exclaimed, his deep voice vibrating with joy and affection.

And Erica remembered him talking about this woman before, his voice vibrating then with love and pride. The tightness in her chest eased as she realized this was his sister.

Even though Erica had never met her, she should have recognized her. Not from the old picture Jed had shown her when they’d been going out before his deployment, or even from all the media coverage of her during the trial. Macy had given up her plans for medical school to aid her brother’s appeal and release from prison. Erica should have recognized her because Isobel was a miniature replica of the young woman.

No wonder Jed had instinctively known, with nary a doubt nor demand for a DNA test, that Isobel was his daughter. It was very obvious that the little girl was this woman’s niece.

Over her brother’s massively broad shoulder, Macy caught sight of Erica and the unwieldy bundle in her arms. “Jed, who did you bring with you? Who is this?”

She pulled away from her brother and walked toward Erica. As her gaze focused on the sleeping child, her breath audibly caught.

“Is she my…?” Macy asked Erica, not her brother the question—more with her wide dark eyes than her words, which emotion had choked off.

Erica nodded, and the gesture must have shifted the little girl so that she awakened with a sleepy murmur of protest. “This is your niece, Isobel. Isobel, this pretty lady is your Aunt Macy.”

“She is pretty,” Isobel whispered in shy agreement.

“You’re the pretty one,” Macy said. “I am so happy to meet you.” She held out her arms.

The little girl hesitated for just a moment before leaning toward her newly introduced aunt. Macy pulled her close, hugging her as tightly as she had her brother. Tears glistened in her eyes. “I was so worried I’d never see you again. But here you are and you’re not alone…”

Jed approached, either to comfort his sister or explain. But the DEA agent intercepted him and led him off into another section of the hangar.

As if she had silently communicated with the blond man, Macy carried Isobel off toward an open door and stepped inside a room. Unwilling to be separated from her daughter again, Erica followed closely.

She gasped at the room in which they stood; it wasn’t an office, as she would have expected. It was a studio apartment complete with kitchenette, skylights, queen-size bed and wall-unit furnace. “This is so nice.”

“Not what you expected?” Macy asked.

“Nothing has been,” Erica replied, “since Jed showed up at my door.”

So many questions widened Macy’s dark eyes, but she only remarked, “I can relate.” She settled the little girl onto her hip as she reached into a cupboard and pulled down a box of crackers. “Are you hungry, sweetheart? What about you…?”

“Erica.”

Macy’s breath caught again. “Erica Towsley?”

“You know who I am?”

“I know Jed wanted Marcus to find you for the trial,” she replied. “He never really told me why, though.”

“He was with me the night of the murders,” Erica admitted. “That was actually the night your niece was conceived.”

Macy let out a whoop of excitement that had Isobel giggling. “That’s it—the evidence we need to overturn his conviction.”

Erica shook her head and, with regret, replied, “No. My memories of that night aren’t very clear. They wouldn’t hold up in court.”

“But Isobel…”

“Is not proof that he never left—that he didn’t do what he was convicted of.”

Isobel hadn’t asked about her daddy yet. Maybe she was too young and too sheltered in Miller’s Valley to even realize that she didn’t have one. But she actually did have one, and when she was old enough to ask about him—how ever would Erica explain why he hadn’t been part of her life?

He couldn’t go back to prison; he couldn’t lose any more time with his daughter. The little girl deserved a father.

But, regrettably, Erica knew that life wasn’t fair. And a child didn’t always get what she deserved.

“He was framed,” Macy maintained, as she resolutely had throughout his trial. “There has to be some way to prove that.”

“Find out who framed him,” Rowe said as he stepped inside the room with Jed.

Erica suspected Jed already knew. He had evaded that car that had been so determined to run them off the road. He had driven with the skill and composure that had had him surviving Afghanistan and probably prison, too.

But for just one moment he had lost it—when the car window had lowered. His broad shoulders and body had blocked her view, so Erica hadn’t caught a glimpse of the driver. But Jed had.

She hadn’t been able to question him about it yet, not with Isobel in the van with them. But confident Macy would care for her newly discovered niece, Erica stormed over to Jed and pulled him out into the hangar with her.

“You already know,” she accused him. “You saw who was driving that car and you recognized him!”

He shook his head in denial, but he didn’t meet her gaze.

She grasped his arm, and his muscles bunched beneath her fingers. She couldn’t shake the truth out of him; he was too big. She could only demand he tell her. “Who was it? That monster tried to kill my daughter. I have a right to know who he is!”

Jed’s dark eyes filled with torment and regret. “Erica…”

“Mommy?” The little girl must have wriggled free of her aunt, who stood in the doorway behind her, as Isobel ran to them. She squeezed between her father and mother and clung to Erica’s legs. “I’m scared…”

Regret had nausea rising in Erica’s throat as she realized that her daughter must have overheard her outburst. “You’re safe, honey.”

Jed’s big hand cupped the back of their daughter’s head. “You’re safe, sweetheart,” he assured the child. “I will protect you.”

Because he knew what the threat was. Because he knew who it was…

* * *

J
ED
HOPED
HE
HADN
’
T
just made a promise he wouldn’t be able to keep. He had seen the skepticism on Erica’s lovely face. She didn’t believe him. She didn’t trust him. He didn’t blame her. He stared after her as she carried their daughter back inside the studio apartment with his sister.

Rowe stayed behind, standing at Jed’s side. Probably ready to slap the cuffs on him.

If he tried…

Well, Jed already knew he could take the Drug Enforcement Administration agent. Even though he didn’t want to fight a man he now considered a friend, he would in order to keep his promise to Isobel. To protect her…and her mother.

“She seems to know you well,” Rowe remarked, almost idly.

“If she knew me well, she wouldn’t have spent the past three years thinking I’m a killer,” Jed said, wondering if he would ever get over his bitterness and mistrust.

“But she was right that you did recognize the driver.”

Jed shook his head, unable to believe what he’d seen hadn’t been just his exhausted mind playing tricks on him. If he shared his suspicion with anyone, they’d lock him up for certain—in a sanatorium, though, instead of a prison. “No, she’s wrong. I haven’t slept in days. I could barely see the road, let alone his face.”

Rowe uttered a heavy sigh of frustration and weariness. Dark circles rimmed the DEA agent’s eyes. He had already tried talking to Jed once.

But he’d evaded Rowe’s questions and insisted on checking on Erica and Isobel instead. After the harrowing trip away from Miller’s Valley, he had wanted to make certain they were really all right.

He hadn’t been convinced that Erica had allayed their daughter’s fears despite her valiant attempts. She was an amazing mother. But Isobel was an intuitive child and had figured out that more was going on than a pretend game of bumper cars.

“Jedidiah,” Rowe said, commanding his attention again, “I can’t help you unless you tell me everything that you know.”

“There’s nothing to tell.” Yet. “What about you? You got anything to tell me?”