Countdown (9 page)

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Authors: Heather Woodhaven

BOOK: Countdown
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“I think we're out of earshot,” he said softly. “But it's in our best interest to keep moving fast. I have no idea how long it'll take them to figure out we duped them. If I knew the speed of the river that'd be another thing,” he mumbled. He offered her a small smile. “Your idea to float the phones down the river was the stuff of genius.”

She glanced at him. “I thought you didn't like that word, and please don't compare my sorry intellect with yours. You'd have thought of it in another minute.”

He gestured with his chin at the fork. “It bought us enough time to get out of sight. I'll feel better when we get to where the trail splits. We'll take the left one and get off as soon as we get close to Derrick's subdivision.”

“What if they're waiting for us there?”

He'd considered it, but every muscle hurt, his stomach ached with hunger—a few mini calzones hardly made a dent—and he desperately needed to shut his brain off for a while. “I got nothing. We walk to a hotel? I have some cash, not a ton, but it should cover one night.”

“Okay. At least we have a plan. I just feel like I'm missing something.”

He slowed his stride. “Why? You had nothing to do with this. Or did you have more questions?”

“No. I mean I'm searching for what we should do next, you know? Like that saying... God helps those who help themselves.”

He shook his head. “I've never been a fan of that one. I struggle enough with control issues. If I thought I needed to constantly take matters into my own hands, I'd never be able to sleep.”

She shrugged. “I'm not saying I don't have my own control issues, but the principle has gotten me this far.”

“Hard work, wisdom and God's grace has brought you success, Rachel.”

“Fair enough,” she said softly. “Maybe a better saying would be ‘God helps those who turn to Him.'”

He smiled. How'd she do it? She made it impossible for him to stop
feeling.
His eyes burned with held-back emotion. “I like that,” he finally said. “The split is up ahead.”

NINE

R
achel longed to set down Ethan for a minute. The muscles between her shoulder blades screamed as if the tiny muscle fibers were ripping apart. James didn't complain. He hid his strength well.

Until the past twenty-four hours she never knew about his martial arts history or just how fit he kept himself. Modesty in a man seemed like an oxymoron in her past. The men she usually dated didn't waste any time before telling her about how often they worked out.

She glanced at his profile. Just how smart was he if the NSA asked
him
for help? How could she possibly feel like an equal to a genius like him?

The sounds of nature and the darkness kicked her mind into high gear, processing so much of what had just happened. Except the first thing her brain wanted to focus on wasn't the danger but the fact James didn't seem jealous at all when he talked about her date back at the church. Her neck grew hot at the thought even though the breeze should've chilled her.

Why had she insisted they still car-pool? Was she pushing herself on him? Maybe he didn't care one way or the other if they spent any time together. She pursed her lips. If they ever got out of this situation, she couldn't really blame him, and that bothered her even more.

Her blood sugar was probably just low. After eating, her emotions would go back to being even keel, and she wouldn't care so much what her handsome neighbor thought about her.

“We're turning off onto the left path now,” he whispered. “Stay close.”

Her lower back and hamstrings joined in the complaining as they climbed a hill. They crested the top, and he stopped abruptly. “Uh-oh.”

“Oh, no, don't say that,” she said. “What? What is it?”

“I don't remember this extra split. I'm not sure which way I'm supposed to turn.”

He stepped slowly in a circle, but darkened trees surrounded them except for the long flat thing. Could she sit on it? Upon closer inspection, she confirmed it was a bench, a glorious, wonderful bench. She sat and groaned with relief as her lap took most of Ethan's weight.

James looked down at her. “You know we can't stay here. They're probably already searching the trails for us.”

“Just a minute,” she pleaded. “I don't know how you're carrying so much. I'm dying.”

He joined her on the bench. “Give me Ethan. We have to keep going.”

She cringed. She wanted to help and instead she was only slowing them down. “No, no. I'll be fine. Let's go.” Her spine screamed at her as she straightened. The moment she started walking, all her muscles burned as if they'd never had a rest in the first place. “I'm sorry,” she said.

“Don't be sorry. You cut hair all day. I'm sure your back takes a beating all week. I think we should take a right.” His voice was soft and breathy, slightly above a whisper.

“You're sure?”

“Eighty percent...no, ninety percent sure it's the right way.” He swung his right foot and kicked at some invisible rock. “I've about had it. I need something to go right.”

“Your boys are here with you. I'd call that a pretty big right.”

He dropped his head over Caleb. “Thank you. I needed that reminder.”

She sighed. She'd give anything for a nice cold water bottle. The river's background noise heightened her thirst.

“We need to pick up the pace.” The sound of their panting seemed to echo in the quiet forest. “I forgot to ask.” His voice was soft, hushed. “Is everything going to be okay at your salon?”

“Yes. I've never missed a day there, though.”

“What drew you to styling hair?” He glanced down at her, his pace never slowing. “Trust me, thinking about something else will help.”

She blinked. “I wanted to help women with inner beauty feel the same way on the outside.” The darkness seemed to swallow her whispers. “Most days I wonder if I do it because I want to earn that inner beauty myself.” Her mouth dropped. She'd said too much. Thankfully he couldn't see the humiliation on her face.

James didn't even react. He just nodded and kept walking. “Your actions show you have an abundance of it.”

She remained speechless. Men only commented on her hair or eyes or physical appearance. No one had ever, except for Meredith, told her she had inner beauty.

“Half a mile left to go. Wanna tell me about your childhood now?”

She scoffed, careful not to laugh aloud. “You're trying really hard to keep my mind off my screaming muscles, aren't you?”

“Busted.” He raised an eyebrow but kept his gaze on the trail with frequent glances over his shoulder. “Is it working? Otherwise, let me take Ethan.”

Had any other person asked about her childhood, she'd have objected. But James had been right earlier when he'd said she kept alluding to it in front of him. She hadn't known just how desperate she'd been to talk to someone lately, to have someone really know her. “Long story short, it wasn't the nicest area to live. I already told you my parents were drug dealers. So Meredith, the mentor I mentioned, provided students with tutors, and if they kept their grades up, her organization put money in savings for them to get a used car by graduation. When my parents went to jail, Meredith took me in. She passed away this year.”

He frowned. “How?”

“Old age. She was a spunky lady full of life. Sassy, too.”

“Ah, so that's where you get it.”

She smirked. “I got my determination from her. She changed my life. She built me up, showed me I had value and helped me get the skills needed to run my own business.”

“God sets the lonely in families. It's in Psalms.”

Her cheeks heated. Was he trying to imply she needed a new family now?

“I didn't mean... I—I wasn't...” He stammered, as if reading her mind. He turned suddenly. “Seriously, give me Ethan. I thought I heard something.”

Fear outranked pride. She shoved the boy into his arms and he took off. She could barely keep up with his run. The moment they rounded a corner he slowed and darted into the trees. The moonlight combined with the streetlights flickering past a set of evergreen trees helped her to see him better.

Rachel followed him over the branches littering the ground. He took slow steps. Her ears strained to pinpoint the sound of shuffling. She wanted to whisper, to alert James, but he stepped behind an evergreen tree and froze.

Their eyes met, and she stepped closer to him, covered by shadows. The shuffling grew louder and while Rachel could hold her breath there was no way to stop the boys' steady breathing. The shuffling slowed.

Her throat closed. She couldn't cower in fear and wait for him to discover them. One more sound out of the boys and they'd be found for sure.

Rachel bent down slowly, ignoring James's wide eyes. She tentatively spread out her fingers onto the ground, praying she didn't touch a snake or spider. Her fingertips brushed up against a rock. She slid her palm over the top, gripped it and popped it out of the mud. In one fluid motion, she stood, pulled back her arm and threw it as hard as she could.
Please let it fly far away.

A satisfying thud and crackle sounded down the hill followed by flapping wings. The shuffling pants moved. Then stopped again. A light beam shone down the path they'd just come from. She heard James release a small gasp. What had she done? If the beam found them...

“Hey,” a deep voice called. The beam hit two men on bicycles. “Sir. You can't be here. It's after dark. The trails are closed.”

The beam shut off. “Uh, o-okay,” the man stammered. “I'll just go back to my car.”

“Sir, would you like an escort?”

“That's not necessary,” the man retorted.

Rachel recognized that voice without seeing him. The man was the same one that had pointed the gun at them in the garage and shot at the car. She shivered.

The officers waited on the bicycles until the man passed them before turning their bikes around. Rachel exhaled, her insides shaking. James's warmth left her as he trekked deeper into the woods.

They stepped between two giant evergreens and onto a suburban sidewalk. “We're exposed.” While very few streetlights lit the neighborhood, light fixtures decorated every garage. She wanted to dart back into the woods.

“That was too close,” James said.

Obviously he realized his momentary lapse of judgment when he'd called her genius earlier. “It was foolish,” she said. “I just didn't want him to discover us.”

James didn't agree, but he also didn't argue. Her cheeks heated at her mistake, probably a mistake a parent never would've made.

He nodded toward the houses. “I'm hoping we look like a family on a late-night walk, trying to get our little ones asleep. But we need to get out of sight fast.”

A block down the sidewalk, he stepped into the shadows underneath a tree.

She peeked around his shoulder. “Are we stopping?”

“There's a black sedan parked on the road up ahead. I can't be sure but I thought I saw a flicker of light inside the car.”

“Is it the same men?” She squinted to look for herself.

“Impossible. They were on the trail just a few moments ago. It'll take them a while to get back to their vehicle.” He sighed. “It's probably nothing...residents with too many cars for the garage or guests, but to be on the safe side we need to go through the community area.”

“Those are closed after nightfall,” she commented. “We'll be going between everyone's backyards.”

“Then we better move quickly.” He set off through the tiny space between two backyards until he reached the path. The majority of the subdivisions in the area had community areas between the rows of cookie-cutter houses to help appease homeowners over the fact their backyards were the size of small garages. The area was not lit up by lights, though, hence the rule about being closed after dark. The moon, now hidden by clouds, provided barely enough light to keep from running into each other.

“How will you know which house is Derrick's from the back?”

“Because it's at the end of the row.” He lengthened his stride so much she almost jogged to keep up. They reached it in record time.

“I need a free arm.” He slipped Caleb into her arms. “Stay here for a second, okay?”

He stepped away before she could refuse. She shivered in the dark and looked over her shoulder to make sure she was alone. Shapes that could be men, but were probably trees and bushes, lined the area. She leaned her back against the fence for support.

If it weren't for Caleb's warm body, she'd be cold. She bent down, and her cheek brushed against his forehead. He remained warm in her arms. His long eyelashes spilled over onto his chubby cheeks, completely in a state of peaceful rest.

She could see the appeal in motherhood. The thought jolted her. James approached. “This is definitely the house. There is a guy sitting in a sedan out front.”

“With the car running?” she asked.

He sighed. “No. Lights off. That's what worries me.”

“He didn't see you, did he?” Panic closed her throat. If she had to run any more she wouldn't be able to hold one of the boys. Her arms, back and legs were about to give. “What are we going to do?”

“We go in the backyard and hope Derrick can help us out. It's all I've got.” He reached over her head and flicked a metal latch.

She stepped backward as the cedar door swung forward. A citrus smell wafted past, both invigorating and appetizing. The moon and their wide eyes reflected off the glass back door covered by vertical blinds.

James raised a fist. “Let's hope we don't scare them to death.” He knocked three times, lightly, on the metal frame surrounding the glass. A minute passed by as they stood shoulder to shoulder waiting.

“Maybe they're not home?”

A bright light flooded the back patio. “Duck,” James said.

She squatted and turned her head away, shoving her eyes closed until the throbbing passed. She blinked as Caleb squirmed in her arms, fully awake, and unhappy. In the corner of the yard, a short lemon tree proved the source of the smell.

“Stay down,” James instructed. “In case anyone sees our heads poking over the fence. Boys, I need you to be quiet for just a moment.”

“Where are we, Daddy?” Caleb asked.

The blinds shifted and a petite blonde woman with a stomach the size of two beach balls stood behind the door, pushing aside a space between the hanging blinds. She held something metallic at the side of her hip. A gun? The woman squinted at James before her eyes widened in recognition.

James placed a finger on his mouth, silently begging her to be quiet. She frowned but opened the door and gestured them forward. “James?” she whispered. “What's going on?”

They stepped into the tiled dining area, and James flipped the switch to turn the backyard light off. “I'm sorry to barge in so late, Cynthia. I need to talk to Derrick right away.”

She smiled at the boys, but her forehead remained creased in a frown. “He left over two hours ago to meet you. I tried him a few minutes ago. He isn't answering his phone.”

* * *

James closed his eyes. Derrick would've answered his phone for his very pregnant wife. Last he'd heard, Cynthia was supposed to be on modified bed rest until the twins were due. But he didn't want to worry Cynthia more than usual. “I'm sure we got our wires crossed.”

She glanced at him with a smile, but it didn't meet her eyes. “No need to tiptoe around the truth, James. I'll try him again.”

“Don't leave a—”

“A message,” she finished for him. She held up a hand. “I don't know what's going on, and I don't want to know. But this isn't my first rodeo.” Cynthia stepped into the kitchen and placed the gun she'd been attempting to hide on top of the refrigerator. She lifted a wicker basket filled with bananas and presented it to the twins. “You boys look hungry.”

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