Resurrecting Charlie's Girl (2 page)

She
recognized them as part of Tom's group. They went straight to him and began
firing off questions after he updated them on the situation. Who are these
guys?

The
atmosphere in the cabin turned from serious to scary. They weren't the jovial
men with the quick repartee who'd walked into the office yesterday. No, now
they meant business and obviously worked together.

Tom
moved away from the group and walked to her. "Are you okay?" He laid
his hand on her back.

She
jerked away, grabbing at her back. Pain shot down her spine and brought tears
to her eyes. The spot where Jared kept poking the gun at her was tender.

"You're
hurt. Let me see." Tom moved to lift her shirt.

"No!"
She spun away. "I…I'm fine. Really."

He
lowered his head and whispered, "We can get you medical help if he hurt
you."

"No.
I'm fine." She crossed her arms across her chest.

"Can
you tell us anything about the man who accosted you?" Tom stayed beside
her.

She
shook her head violently. If she left, it might save everybody's life. The
chance that they'd be punished for getting involved was too big a risk. She'd
handle this on her own.

"What's
your name?" Tom reached over and snatched a blanket off the couch and held
it out to her.

She
waved the offer away. "Charlise."

"I'm
Tom, Charlise. I'm a private investigator with G.P. Investigations. I have the
means to protect you." He lowered his voice and took her hand between his
and rubbed warmth into her fingers. "While you're with us, we'll make sure
nobody hurts you again."

An
investigator? If Jared knew she'd gotten help from men who carried superior
power, he'd kill her. Worse, he'd kill this man and all the other men in the
room, too.

"These
guys are my associates, Charlise." Tom motioned Garrett forward.
"This is Garrett Parker. He owns the agency."

Garrett
walked over and held out his hand. Charlise accepted his handshake. She must be
going crazy to even stay here talking. Every minute she remained in the room
her chances of escaping alive diminished.

Garrett
nodded his chin toward the other men and introduced them. "These are
detectives, Pete Sloan, Joe Cochran, and Chuck Johnson." They dipped their
chins in acknowledgement while Garrett continued, "They're all highly
trained. You're in good hands here."

Charlise
eyed the other men, but her mind kept flashing back to the way Tom's hand held
hers. His large, rough hands testified to his capability to protect her in
contrast to his gentle and comforting touch. He made her feel safe and
protected, although her life hung out on a limb.

"Can
you give us any information on the attacker? Name? Picture?" Tom removed a
small notebook from his back pocket and accepted a pen from Garrett. "Do
you have a relationship to the suspect?"

She
had to keep them out of this. "No."

"That's
okay." Tom turned to Garrett. "Here's a good description of him. You
can have them run it through the system for any possible matches." He tore
off the paper and handed it over.

"We
could use her sweatshirt too," Garrett said, softly.

She
glanced down. Her stomach rolled, and she pulled her arms out of the sleeves
and whipped the shirt off her head. "Here."

She
gagged and covered her mouth. Tom studied her. She looked away.

Garrett's
deep voice interrupted. "I'd like you to let Tom drive you back to our
office in Stanton, Charlise. Let him protect you, and in the meantime, we'll
stay and see about apprehending the man who came after you." Garrett
motioned the other men to go outside. "From this point forward, your
safety is in the hands of G.P.I."

Charlise's
gaze skittered from Tom to Garrett. Her legs threatened to give out. "I
appreciate the offer, but—"

"No
buts. I insist. Tom will take you to Stanton. He'll see you have everything you
need to keep you safe." Garrett nodded at Tom. "Go ahead, the others
will follow you to the car and then check on the owner and other campers."

Tom
laid his hand on Charlise's back. She stepped away, uncomfortable with how fast
this man worked. She'd go with him. At least Stanton lay south of Alban and the
farther away from home, the better.

Chapter
Two

Tom
turned on the heater in the car, swung his arm behind Charlise's seat and
grabbed a blanket. He gave it to her and she wrapped it around herself to get
warm. She still shook from chills after giving her sweatshirt to Tom's boss for
evidence. She gazed out the side window and stared at the trees that lined the
highway.

"Are
you warming up?" Tom asked, letting his concerned gaze rest on her for a
moment.

Charlise
turned from the window. "Yes. Thank you."

The
blanket tucked around her, plus the car heater did the job, and she no longer
sported goosebumps and her hands stopped shaking.

Tom
drove east along a two-lane highway through the coastal mountain range.
Charlise mentally prepared a route in her head, taking notice of landmarks that
dotted the highway. It would be foolish to return for the old junker she'd
driven at The Ridge. She'd need to purchase another car.

All
the cash she owned was tucked in the front pocket of her jeans. Rule number
one: carry cash and an extra car key in her pocket at all times. The extra set
of clothes—now left behind in her backpack at The Ridge—was replaceable. She'd
prepared herself for life on the run and the idea of starting again overwhelmed
her.

"Are
you ready to talk about what happened back there?" Tom kept his eyes on
the road.

Was
she?

"No."
She pulled the blanket up higher and fiddled with the fringe. Soon her
punishment for involving Tom and his partners would come calling. Either Jared,
if he recovered from Tom's attack, or one of his thugs would do his dirty work
and hunt them down.

"The
sooner we have a clear picture of what you are involved in the faster we can
apprehend the man who attacked you." Her rescuer glanced over at her, his
hands on the steering wheel.

"I
really wish you wouldn't get involved. You could let me go my own way when we
get to Stanton." Charlise kept her face averted, but surreptitiously
watched his hands. If he grew angry over her lack of answers, it'd show in his
hands first. The way a man used his hands revealed a lot about him.

"Just
forget about it. Let the police handle what happened." She clasped her
hands on her lap.

"It's
too late for that, Charlise. A man was murdered back there, and someone tried
to kidnap you." He shifted out of overdrive. "Even though you don't
want to admit it, he hurt you."

"Then
let the police do their job." She turned to gaze at him.
"Please."

Tom's
hand rubbed the gear stick knob. "Garrett and the others are dealing with
the police and the investigation. They'll keep me updated."

Tom
kept his eyes on the road. "Plus, you're not involving us. We're obligated
to protect you and stop a crime."

Charlise
nodded, but continued to stare at his hands. "It doesn't matter that I
don't want you involved?"

"Nope.
It would be faster if you volunteered the information first. It would help keep
you safe."

The
lines on his hands became unclear. She blinked at the moisture gathering in her
eyes. Tom knew only what he witnessed at The Ridge. He didn't know her real
name, what she looked like behind the mask. If he knew whom he wanted to
protect, he'd think twice about playing the hero.

"It's
a long story." Charlise rubbed her forehead. Her head pounded with pain
and threatened to disable her if she let it.

Tom
didn't pressure her to continue, and Charlise looked at him to find out if she
should explain more. Maybe if she gave him enough information to keep him safe,
he might give up on coercing her for more details.

The
muscle in Tom's jaw jumped, and she realized with a start that his attention was
riveted to the rearview mirror, and his tension didn't come from her lack of
answers.

She
straightened in the seat. "What's wrong?"

"I'm
not sure." He glanced in the rearview mirror. "I think someone is
following us."

Charlise
twisted in her seat and saw a sleek, black sedan a couple car distances behind
them. Too close for driving at the speed they traveled. "It's him."

He
glanced over at her. "How do you know? The windows are tinted."

"He
only drives black cars with heavily tinted windows that are bullet proof.
Inside you will find an arsenal of weapons, from knives, guns, to other men,
and he knows how to use each one of them." She stared out the back window
of the car. "I wouldn't be surprised if he didn't have back up at The
Ridge and followed us this whole time."

Tom
pushed down the accelerator and the car shot forward. Charlise fell back
against the seat, bracing a hand against the dashboard.

"You
won't outrun him," she said.

"Watch
me."

The
speedometer climbed to ninety miles per hour. The determination etched in Tom's
face gave her hope despite her doubts that he'd be able to finagle their way
out of the this. It wasn't hard to guess that Tom took his job seriously and he
believed that he had the situation under control. The time came to save this brave
man. She owed him for trying to help.

"It's
my ex-husband, and if you want to save both our lives you will keep driving
this car until there is no sign of him following. When that happens, keep
driving until we run into the Atlantic Ocean." Her chest rose and fell in
rapid breaths.

"This
car will do a lot, but it doesn't float." He glanced at her. "And
we'll have to stop for gas eventually."

"He's
killed my best friend and now Bill. Do whatever you can to lose him." She
grabbed Tom's hand that remained on the gearshift. "No place is safe. He
has people all over the state that work for him and he'll have no problem
getting rid of you if you stand between me and him."

Tom
glanced from the road to Charlise and studied her face.

She
stuck up her chin, and nodded her head. She gave him the truth, and if he'd
learned anything, he'd better take the information and run.

"Hold
on." He shifted gears.

The
force of the car doing a one eighty pulled her against the car door. The scent
of burning rubber assailed her nose. Gravel hit the underside of the car

"Hurry,"
she pleaded.

Tom
checked the rearview mirror. "He didn't make the turn, and there are cars
behind me getting in between, so he can't tail us. We need to get off this road
and find another route."

"Where
are you planning on going?" The blanket slid off her and she tossed it
into the back seat.

"I'm
not taking you back to the office." Tom passed another car on the highway.
"It'd be too easy for him to find out which agency I work for and beat us
back there."

"Yes,
he will. Nowhere is safe."

Tom
took the next exit, drove a few blocks, and pulled in behind a tire repair
shop. He parked so that he could watch the exit ramp and turned to Charlise.
"We'll see if we lost him or if he's better at tracking us than I give him
credit for."

Her
legs jumped with pent-up energy. The idea of waiting for Jared to show up made
them a sitting target. They might as well stand out on the interstate and flag
him down. Her instincts shouted for her to get out and run for her life.

"Can't
we go?" She peered out the window of the car.

"In
a minute. Knowing if he's following us will be better than being caught by
surprise." Tom stared at the off ramp. His hands remained still on his
thighs with his fingers spread wide.

She
gazed down at his steady hands. Not knowing his background or training, she
shouldn't trust him, but who else did she have? Her family was gone, her best
friend was dead, and Jared had alienated her from everyone else.

She
went on her gut feeling. "His name is Jared Blatwell."

Tom's
head whipped around.

She
nodded and gave him time to absorb the harsh reality. Everyone knew her
ex-husband.

He
whistled softly between his lips and ran both hands through his hair. She'd
expected this reaction. She hated it.

"Let
me get this straight." He held up a finger for emphasis. "Jared
Blatwell. The dirty business conglomerate rumored to have his hands in the drug
industry?"

"Yes."
She pressed her lips together and stopped herself from chewing on the tender
spot inside her mouth.

"The
same man the FBI's been trying for the last year to get inside his
operation?" His blue eyes never left her face.

"Yes.
The Jared Blatwell that people fear, yet wish they had his power." She
snorted.