No Home for the Holidays (3 page)

Why did he think he knew her?

The pounding stopped.

“What's going on, Pink?” Colton whispered into her ear.

“Stop calling me that.”

“You won't tell me your name. So what am I supposed to call you?”

“You don't need to call me anything. You shouldn't even be here. Why
are
you here?”

“When you didn't answer the front door, I left. Then I got worried so I walked through the back yards to come check on you.”

She glared, stood up, and stalked out of the kitchen. He followed as she moved to the living room and stared between the slats of the shutter.

Colton did the same.

John was sitting in a black SUV, staring at the house.

Finally, she straightened up and stared at Colton. “He's back in his car for now, but he doesn't seem to be going anywhere. Thanks a lot. You almost got me killed.”

The locks. The way she'd fixed up the house so no one could see in. She seemed truly frightened.

“Who's that guy?”

“I don't know.” She headed to the kitchen.

“Then why do you think he's going to kill you?”

She picked up her satchel. “No time to explain. I've got to get out of here.”

“Because of that guy?”

“Well, sort of.” She held up her satchel. “I'm a firm believer in my instincts. My instincts are telling me it's time to go. So, I'm going.”

So the woman was on the run. But was she on the run to keep safe or because she was a criminal?

She stopped at the kitchen door and looked back. “I'm out of here, preacher. Lock up when you leave.”

“But he's still out there.”

“I know, but I can't risk him trying to break in. Did you see the size of that guy? I can't stay here. The door won't stop him for long.”

“Let me help.”

Frustration oozed from her voice. “I can't take my car right now. He'll see me pull out, and then he'll follow me. Even if I manage to lose him, he'll be able to get the license number.” She shook her head. “This is all your fault.”

“I didn't tell the guy where you lived. You're not being fair.”

“There's nothing fair about this world.” Her eyes glittered with tears.

That simple sentence contained a lifetime of pain and disappointment.

A twinge of empathy coursed through him, criminal or not. “I guess you'll have to come with me then, Pink. We can figure something out at the church.”

“I don't need your help.”

“You need someone's help. And since I'm the only one here, it might as well be mine.”

6

“What will your wife think when you drag a complete stranger into her house?”

They were standing at the preacher's back door after a crazy run through several icy and snow-covered backyards.

A look of pain crossed his face. “I don't have a wife. And if I did, she wouldn't mind at all. Let's go in. It's cold out here.”

Going into stranger's houses could lead to trouble—even a preacher's house.

He smiled as if he'd read her thoughts. “I'm not going to hurt you. I promise I'm one of the good guys.” He held the door open.

If the past had taught Chloe anything, it was that she wasn't a good judge of character. But she couldn't stand out here. She stepped inside.

The kitchen was a mess. There were dishes in the sink and on the counter. An open loaf of bread sat beside a jar of peanut butter. The lid was only half on.

“Whatever happened to cleanliness being next to godliness?”

“That's not really in the Bible. But seriously, I had a couple counseling sessions that took more time than usual, and I didn't have time to take care of everything. It doesn't always look this way. The cleaning lady doesn't come until tomorrow.” He shrugged. “It really is a mess, isn't it?”

She nodded.

“The living room's this way.”

Chloe sat in a chair. Her feet tapped on the floor and her fingers tapped out the same rhythm on her knees. Realizing she looked as nervous as she felt, she forced herself to be still.

Colton went to the sofa.

The two of them sat staring at each other.

Finally, he leaned forward. “I know who you are.”

Chloe couldn't breathe.

~*~

“You're Chloe Sullivan.”

“My name is Marcy Jones. And now that you know it, you can stop calling me Pink.” She hopped up as if ready to run away. Her gaze jumped around the room as if looking for the best escape route.

“I don't know about that. I sort of like it.” He smiled, hoping to calm her down.

“How about you don't call me anything? I really need to get out of here.”

“You are definitely Chloe Sullivan.”

“What did you say your name was again? I wasn't listening the last time you told me.”

Good tactic. Now she was the one deflecting with a question.

“Colton Douglas.”

She smiled. It changed her from an angry woman to a beauty.

“I really need to go, Colton Douglas.” She moved toward the window. “Do you think he'll show up here?”

He wasn't sure he wanted to tell her that John Smith had been to the church before showing up at her house. The man had probably followed Colton to her house earlier.

“The fact that you're not answering me means he probably will.”

“Listen, Chloe.”

“Don't call me that.” A moment later she was moving toward the door—fast. “I'm not…my name is Marcy Jones. I don't know who you're even talking about.”

“I'm not the enemy, Chloe.” He placed a hand against his door to keep her from opening it.

“Stop calling me that.” She slapped at his arm. “Get out of my way. You can't keep me here against my will.”

He removed his hands and held them up in surrender. “I'm not trying to do that. I want to help you. Please, calm dow—”

Loud pounding at the back door stopped his words.

She jerked, a panicked look on her face. “It's him. I just know it. I really gotta go.”

“Don't go outside. There might be more than one.”

The color drained from her face. “Why would you think that?”

“I'll explain later. For now go upstairs and hide. I'll take care of this.”

The pounding at the back door continued.

“It's OK, you can trust me.”

“I don't trust anyone but myself. And most of the time that's not such a good idea.”

“He'll be at the front door any second. And unlike your house, people can see in my windows.” He prayed she would make the right decision.

She grabbed her satchel and ran up the steps.

He ruffled his hair to make it look as if he'd been sleeping. He grabbed his weapon off the top of the refrigerator and slipped it into his pocket.
Lord, please don't let Chloe be an escaping criminal.
As he opened the door, he yawned. “Enough already! I heard you the first five times you pounded on my door so rudely.” He stretched for emphasis.

“Cut the theatrics, preacher. I know you were at her house. Where is she?” He attempted to move in to the house.

Colton walked outside and closed the door. “What are you talking about?”

“You lied to me, preacher.” John Smith poked him in the chest.

Colton took a step forward to show he wasn't intimidated. “Don't poke me, and I did no such thing.”

“Liar.” The man shook his head. “I followed your footsteps right from her house to here. So don't tell me you didn't lie when you said you didn't know where she lived.”

Just the way he'd tracked Chloe last night. He should have realized. “I never told you I didn't know where she lived. I asked you why I would know if I didn't know her name. Your mistake, not mine.”

John Smith glared at Colton. “Well, I won't make that kind of a mistake again. Get out of my way. I'm going to find her.”

He wasn't acting much like the FBI agent he'd pretended to be earlier. No doubt, his name wasn't John Smith either. “Find who?”

“Chloe Sullivan.”

“The woman I walked with said her name was Marcy Jones.” Another truth.

“Good try, preacher. But I know she's Chloe Sullivan, and I want to see her right now. She's worth a lot of money to me. And I'm not letting some preacher take that reward money from me.”

That didn't sound like FBI.

“I can't help you. Last time I saw her, she was running with her satchel.” Another truth. “What do you want with her?”

“You know exactly what I want with her.”

“Actually I don't.” Colton was honest.

“I'm coming in there.” Smith took a step toward Colton. “I want Chloe Sullivan. And you ain't going to stop me.”

“This is my house and I didn't invite you in. You need to leave before this gets ugly.”

“You think you can stop me, preacher?” Smith took several more steps, his attitude threatening.

“Not me.” Colton pulled the gun from his pocket. “But I think this will stop you.” He aimed it at the man.

John Smith held up his hands and took a step back. “I thought men of God were pacifists, preacher.”

“Not all of us.”

Smith snarled as he pointed a finger at Colton. “I'm not done. I'm not stopping until I find her.” He walked away.

When he was out of sight, Colton breathed a sigh of relief, glad he hadn't had to use the gun. He went inside and locked the door, wishing he had more dead bolts. His knees shook as he took several deep breaths. It had been a long time since he'd aimed a gun at another person. Something he'd hoped never to have to do again.

7

“Chloe, it's safe. You can come down now.” Colton's voice drifted up.

Apparently the preacher was tougher than she'd thought. The man hadn't got past him. Considering the guy's size, a miracle in itself. She walked down the steps with her satchel.

Colton stood at the bottom of the steps. “We've got to get you out of here before he comes back with reinforcements.”

Her pulse spiked. “Reinforcements?”

“It's possible.”

“Who is he?”

“I'll explain later. For now, I think you need to get as far away from here and from him as possible.”

“I'll second that.” She nodded. “I'll go get my car. He thinks I'm here so no reason from him to go back there, right?”

“I don't think you should take that chance. Let me help you. You can trust me.”

Trust? For the past three years she'd trusted no one but herself. And she was still alive. The only other people she'd trusted were dead.

His intense blue eyes reflected sincerity and honesty, but was that enough? She didn't think so, but she didn't have a choice. She'd let him help her get out of this messy situation and then be on her way. She nodded. “Fine. Let's go.”

“This way.” He led her back through the kitchen and to the attached garage. In spite of the circumstances, he held the door open for her. A gentleman.

Colton walked to the driver's side. There was more to this man than met the eye. Otherwise, how could he have convinced the giant to leave?

“You should hide for now. Even though he walked over from your house that doesn't mean he isn't close by watching us, waiting for us to make our move.”

“OK.” She slid to the floor, but looked up at Colton. “How did he even find me?”

“Our footprints.”

He picked up the garage remote and the door opened.

“Those footprints keep getting me into trouble.”

“My fault. I should have known better. But there wasn't really a way to hide them anyway. We were in such a hurry to get out of there.” The car moved forward.

“Do you see him? Is he out there?”

“Don't think so.”

Crouched down, Chloe tried to get comfortable.

They'd actually managed to get away from that guy. “Who is he? How'd he know where I lived in the first place?”

“He told me his name was John Smith, but I'm pretty sure that was a lie.” Colton was pretty sure he didn't work for the FBI, but he said nothing. “Apparently he recognized you from the photo I took.”

“But you took it down. I saw you.”

“Not quickly enough. He said something about photo recognition software. This is all my fault so you have to let me help. Where do you want me to take you?”

“I need my car.”

“That's really not a good idea, Chloe. He could be there waiting. Even if he's not, he's probably seen your car and the license plate by now. That means he could find you wherever you went.”

“But I need it.”

“If he tracks it, he'll be able to find you again. Whose name is the car in?”

“Mine.”

“Meaning Chloe Sullivan?”

“I told you my name is Marcy Jones.”

“The bruiser at my door called you Chloe so you can stop pretending. I'm not an idiot.”

“Fine. The car's registered to Marcy Jones.”

“I really think you should forget about that car. He's pretty determined to get the reward money your father's offering.”

So Colton Douglas knew the truth. He might be tempted by the reward money as well. Just because he was a preacher didn't mean he wasn't human.

“You think that's what he wants?”

“That's what he said. Unless there's someone else out there offering a reward for you.”

She didn't want to get into that. The less Colton knew, the better for everyone. Especially for him. “Fine. Then take me to the bus station in Canton. Or I can call a cab if you don't want to drive me that far.”

“Are you sure that's what you want to do?”

“What's your suggestion?”

“I could take you to a friend's house, and you can lay low for a few days. Once everything calms down, then you can leave. Less chance of him still looking for you by then.”