Keeping Watch: Heart of the Night\Accidental Bodyguard (44 page)

He pocketed the paper inside his tweed jacket. “Women are unpredictable, aren’t they?”

“That one sure is,” agreed Prince. He turned toward the front door, shaking his head. “You know, I offered her a night in a motel down in Elk Point. But she wanted to stay with Beck.”

“Is that so?” The man in the suit picked up the wooden chair at the table and swung it at the back of Prince’s head. The stout sheriff crumpled to the floor with a noisy thump. He rolled him over and knelt on top of him before he’d blinked open his eyes. “Are you telling me a twenty-four-year-old blonde with no money and no transportation got away from you? How’d she manage that, big guy?”

The sheriff’s dazed eyes tried to focus.

“You didn’t get the job done. And you made mine a lot more difficult.” He covered Prince’s slack mouth with the wadded-up shirt while he was still too out of it to fight back. Then he pulled his knife from the pocket of his suit and flipped it open.

He plunged the blade into the sheriff’s pudgy belly. His victim’s groggy eyes widened with the awareness of pain.

The tall man twisted his wrist. He muffled Hamilton Prince’s last cries beneath the palm of his hand.

When the sheriff’s eyes closed, he pulled out the knife and cleaned it. Then he dropped Jonas Beck’s sweet-smelling shirt over the man’s face and drove away in his unmarked black car.

S
OME TIME LATER
, FBI Agent Rory Carmichael stormed into the door of the Elk County sheriff’s office and flashed his badge at the two startled deputies. “Where’s Sheriff Prince? I’ve got some follow-up questions about that red compact car over at Bill’s Garage.”

The deputy with the stained pant leg stood up. “He drove out to Jonas Beck’s place two hours ago.”

“And he hasn’t returned?” The deputy shook his head. “Don’t you think we’d better go find him?”

“M
Y
G
OD
, this is gorgeous country.” Faith lingered on the observation patio of Jackson Lake Lodge in Teton National Park, watching the sunset cast dusky blue shadows over the craggy peaks of the Tetons. Below the snow-studded mountains, Jackson Lake reflected the dramatic thrust and cut of granite and dark green pine. Closer to the lodge itself, the still lake glimmered a clear, icy blue. She inhaled deeply, absorbing the pristine air and enhancing her perception of the park’s beauty. “I can see why you’d want to live out in this part of the country.”

“You ready to go?”

She shook her head at the unmoved voice beside her. Jonas cast a pretty large shadow himself. In more ways than one. He’d granted her a five-minute reprieve from her assigned list of tasks so she could act like a tourist and actually enjoy the historic lodge and its spectacular views, renewing her spirit in the process.

“Aren’t you affected by the beauty here?” she asked. “Mother Nature’s outdone herself.”

Jonas leaned on the rock and timber wall beside her, but his back was turned to the mountains as his gaze continually scanned the crowd outside with them, as well as those behind the sixty-foot observation windows of the lodge’s guest lounge above them. “I like the open space of the mountains.”

Faith glanced up at her companion. She hadn’t expected a meaningful response. But she had a feeling his answer was based more on his life experience than on the scenery. “You prefer being by yourself, don’t you?”

“It’s easier.”

“In what way?”

When he tilted his head down to face her, not even the bill of his black ball cap could shade the icy blue light shining in his eyes. “I’m not the kind of man most folks want to be around. I make them uncomfortable, even the ones who mean well.”

Faith’s admiration for the landscape around her shifted in a new direction. Craggy features. Flecks of silvery white on top. A lake—make that eyes—of shimmering blue. The unmoving strength of the Tetons was a perfect metaphor for the man beside her. “That sounds terribly lonely.”

“You’d be surprised what a man can live with. Or without.” He straightened, turning a subtle 360 without explaining his cryptic response.

Or denying that he was lonely.

The defunct Watchers had been aptly named, thought Faith. There didn’t seem to be a moment when Jonas hadn’t been scoping or scanning or checking their surroundings. Each turnoff on the highway, each face in the crowd, each closed door or obscuring landmark had been assessed by his all-seeing eyes. If the enemy was here, he would know. She wasn’t quite sure how he would recognize a faceless killer known only by a code name, but she was beginning to understand that Jonas and danger were old friends. And that, even if he didn’t know the face, he’d know a threat as soon as it appeared.

Had anyone ever watched over Jonas so diligently? A parent? A woman? A professional partner? Or was he the type of man who had always worked alone? Had always been alone?

An incredible sadness touched Faith’s heart. What Jonas lacked in social graces he made up for in honor. In putting his life on the line for another human being. In serving his country. In understanding the misconceptions of others so that nervous teenagers and skittish waitresses and curious librarians didn’t really have anything to fear from him.

He didn’t deserve the startled glances and evading looks and outright stares from others when he walked into a room. His strength should be respected, yes, but he didn’t deserve to be unwelcomed by a society he’d been trained to protect.

“Let’s go.” His broad hand closed around her upper arm. “We’ve been in one place long enough. Now that we’ve set up a campsite and dropped my name at a few of the shops here, I want to put some distance between us and western Wyoming.”

“Jonas.” Without any more of a rebuke than that, she twisted her arm free and reached for his hand. “Do you really think that will work? That they’ll think we’re staying here in the park?”

They mounted the wide, deep steps that led up to the observation lounge. “That’s the idea. The FBI will send their people to Elk Point to inspect the car first. And then, even if Sheriff Prince doesn’t give them a runaround, it’ll take a few hours trace us to the lodge. It’ll be late by the time they locate our tent. And I’m not leaving a forwarding address.”

“What about Copperhead?”

“Striking in the dark of night in unfamiliar territory isn’t his style. That at least buys us until daybreak.”

“And tomorrow?”

A tug of resistance on her hand stopped her.

Even standing one riser above him on the steps didn’t put her at eye level with Jonas. But it did put her very close to his mouth when she turned to question him. Or maybe he was leaning in. It seemed as if that mouth was suddenly very much in her personal space. And she didn’t seem to mind. Of all the curved and jagged lines that made up his face, his mouth was beautifully shaped. A thin curve across the bottom, an arrogant arch at the top. Powerful and masculine like the rest of him. She felt a little breathless, a little eager and…and maybe she was the one leaning toward him.

But a whisper of the chilly evening air fanned between them, and the rugged landscape of his face drifted out of reach. “Let’s get through tonight first, shall we?”

She nodded dutifully. Though she was long past the awe-inspiring moment of watching the mountains, she made a concerted effort not to let her fears wander into the future. Her hand clutched convulsively around his.

“Why do you do that?” he asked, extricating his fingers from hers and shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “Does it really make that much difference to you whether or not I hold your hand?”

What kind of question was that? Faith shifted her hips to one side and crossed her arms in front of her. “Yes, it does.” His eyes were narrowed in a quizzical frown, as if he was expecting to learn something insightful from her answer. “It allows me a little control. Even if it’s an illusory thing. It’s one little something I can choose to do while the rest of my life spins out of my hands. Plus, it gives me something to hold on to. I know you didn’t want the responsibility of helping me, but…it’s reassuring to have something to cling to.”

Maybe he hadn’t been expecting a philosophical discussion, after all. Judging by his stony expression, she didn’t seem to be making any sense. Time to lighten up. Faith shrugged and offered him a conciliatory smile. “I’m sure it draws a lot less attention to us than when you pick me up and set me down somewhere else.”

“That’s a little Neanderthal of me, huh?”

“Yeah.” She laughed a beat, then stopped abruptly. Neanderthal. Jonas. Maybe she shouldn’t be laughing. “I didn’t mean—”

“Like this?” He slowly, deliberately, took her hand and held it up between them, moving her past the awkward moment.

She rewarded his kindness with a grateful smile and tightened her fingers around his. “Just like that.”

Three hours later, Jonas woke her to check them into a roadside motel in a small town at the end of the Wind River Valley called Lander. He’d paid a park visitor from Arizona a thousand dollars for his beat-up Chevy truck, with no questions asked, no papers exchanged. They’d left Jonas’s Humvee parked in the lot at their remote campground.

Hopefully, the diversion would work and Copperhead would lose their trail, granting them enough time to find out the contents of the disk, establish Darien Frye’s motive for the string of murders and find an unbiased official to report her story to who would make Frye the number one suspect instead of her.

And hopefully, she’d find a way to repay Jonas. Not just the money he was spending on her, but for his time and expertise. And the kindness he’d shown her—taking her in, supporting her, keeping her safe—kindness Jonas Beck probably didn’t think, or wouldn’t admit, he possessed.

Faith carried her purse and her bag from Jackson Lake Lodge into the room and tossed them onto the bed. Running on catnaps in the truck and two hours’ sleep from the night before, she was too far beyond tired to immediately notice a problem with the room. But a jolt of adrenaline sharpened her powers of observation. “One bed.”

Jonas locked and bolted the door behind him, then swung his duffel down onto the floor and deposited the foodstuffs she’d brought on the desk beside the TV. “Don’t worry.” He slipped off his jacket and draped it over the back of the thinly stuffed chair in the corner. “We’ll be sleeping in shifts, so you won’t actually have to go to bed with me.”

“Well, I wasn’t worried…” How shallow did he think she was? She’d only been with one man before in her life, but that didn’t make her a prude. He’d registered them as Mr. and Mrs. Jones, so she supposed that’s why they’d been given the single bed. But did he intend to camp out on the floor to protect her virtue as well as her life? Was he worried about her waking up in the middle of the night, startled and screaming because of the scary monster in her bed? Was he so conscious of his looks that he was trying to spare her the fright? He had to be as tired as she was. She’d been raised to be practical, to put up and make do if and when she had to. Her decision was firm. “We’ll share the bed.”

“We won’t—” Jonas tossed his cap onto the desk and scuffed his hand over the short crop of his hair, emphasizing the slash of scar that grazed his forehead “—be sleeping together.”

Faith stiffened up at his pinpoint glare. He’d zeroed in right on her mouth, as if her lips were somehow to blame for his surly mood. She pressed them tightly together, then moistened them with the tip of her tongue, feeling suddenly parched beneath his heated scrutiny. His eyes flinched at the tiny movement, and his nostrils flared.

She turned away, busying herself with unbuttoning the flannel shirt she wore, trying to ignore the edgy shards of heat that pulsed through her. Maybe it wasn’t a self-conscious fear of startling her in the middle of the night that made him so adamant about keeping distance between them. Maybe it was just the opposite. Was he concerned about the kiss that had almost happened at Jackson Lake? She was. She seemed to lose her focus whenever she got too close to him.

Maybe he was worried that something
would
happen.

“This is fine. I was thinking more about comfort than propriety.” She opted for a half truth. “You look like you take up a lot of space.”

“I do.” If there was any self-inflicted insult implied in that comment, it didn’t reflect in his tone or actions. “We’ll sleep in shifts.”

With yet another decision taken out of her hands, Faith sank onto the side of the bed and kicked off her tennis shoes. Her stiff sweater and muddy jeans had grown increasingly uncomfortable, yet she was more distracted by the purposeful stride of her roommate than by her chafing clothes.

The whitewashed concrete block walls seemed to close in as Jonas moved about the room, checking the bathroom and closet, peeking through the closed curtains to the parking lot out front, opening and closing every drawer in the room.

“What are you looking for?” she asked, clinging to her spot on the bed.

“I don’t like surprises.” He flexed his shoulders to relieve an ache or fatigue, stretching the leather and elastic bands of his holster and reminding her all too clearly of the danger that stalked her. “It’s nothing fancy, but it’s clean. You want to wash up first?” He angled his head toward the door. “I have an errand to run. You could be settled in by the time I get back.”

“You’re leaving me?” Faith shot to her feet. He was that desperate to avoid close contact with her?

“Just for a few minutes.” He shrugged into his jacket and adjusted his gun beneath it. “I saw a convenience store on the way in. I need to pick up a few things for us.”

“Is it safe?” She hurried to his side, ignoring his unspoken request to keep distance between them.

He pulled on his cap. “You’ll be fine. Just don’t open the door for anyone but me, and don’t use the phone. Even if it rings, don’t answer it.”

“I meant you.” She reached for the bill of his cap and pulled it low over his forehead, hiding his most noticeable feature. “What if someone sees you?”

He snatched her wrists and pulled them down from his cap. “Darien Frye isn’t looking for me.”

“But—”

“But nothing.” He released her and turned and unlocked the door. “I’ve got a few more tricks to put Frye and his man off your tail. In the meantime, why don’t you wash off this morning’s mud so you can get a good night’s sleep?”