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Upon entering his bedroom, Nick laid Mary Grace on his king-size bed and, without prompting, slipped off her coat. The child snuggled under the thick comforter and crisp sheets.
Liz settled Joey on the opposite side of the bed. Just as Nick had done, she removed the little one’s jacket and pulled the covers over his shoulders, grateful both children were in their pajamas. Hopefully, they would sleep until morning.
Or until something—or someone—disrupted their slumber.
“Please, Lord, keep them safe.” She pressed a kiss on first Joey’s and then Mary Grace’s forehead.
Nick stood at the foot of the bed. “They’ll be okay for the night,” he assured her.
She nodded, not wanting to give voice to her own concerns. Everything had happened too quickly. Not that many hours ago, the children had been in their own beds dreaming of Christmas.
Then Zack had called, and their peace and security had vanished like the wind that was starting to gain strength outside.
“Let’s go downstairs,” Nick suggested. “I’ll fix coffee. Are you hungry?”
“No, but coffee sounds good.” She followed him to the first floor and watched as he filled the water reservoir and basket. The rich scent of the ground beans filled the kitchen area.
While the coffee brewed, he used a remote control to lower the blinds that covered the huge windows. “They’ll block out the indoor light so no one suspects we’re here. Zack and I were inseparable in high school. Memories linger in small towns. Someone might make the connection.”
The tightness in his voice made a chill scurry along her spine.
“I’d build a fire except smoke coming out the chimney would signal that the house is occupied.”
He wasn’t taking chances. The cabin was isolated, tucked high on the mountain. They were well hidden, unless someone knew where to look.
“I suggest we both take the batteries out of our cell phones.”
Elizabeth bristled at the suggestion. “But what if Zack tries to call me?”
“We can activate your cell every few hours and check for incoming calls.”
She glanced down at her BlackBerry. “You think someone will trace us through our phones?”
Nick nodded. “It’s possible. I’ve got a burner phone that can’t be traced. We’ll use that if we need to make any calls.”
“Let me try to contact Zack first.” Elizabeth punched his number on speed dial.
“Don’t worry,” she said when the call went to voice mail. “The children and I are being well protected.” Hopefully he’d know that Nick was keeping them safe.
After disconnecting, she turned off the device and removed the battery. Nick did the same to his cell and tucked his smartphone and the throwaway model in his pocket.
Grabbing binoculars off a nearby shelf, he peered through a small side window. “I can see almost the entire stretch of access road. The snow’s already covered our tire tracks, which helps. Hopefully we’ll spot any unwelcome visitors in time to react.”
“Which means we’re safe.”
He nodded. “At least for now.”
She stepped closer and glanced out the same window. Once again, the view of the snow-covered terrain bathed in the iridescent glow of the moon’s reflection took her breath away.
“Everything looks so peaceful.”
He nodded. “That’s what I like about the mountain. I relax completely when I’m here.”
“Are you stationed close by?”
“At Fort Rickman. A couple hours south of Atlanta.”
“It’s nice you could come home for Christmas.”
“Actually, I’m on convalescent leave.”
“What!” She startled, unable to sort through the concern tugging at her heart. “You were injured?”
“Nothing serious, but the docs thought I needed to recuperate for a month or so.”
“I...I didn’t know. Zack never mentioned—”
“No need,” he quickly added.
“He could have at least—”
Nick touched her hand. “High school was a long time ago, Liz. I understand.”
“Understand?” What was he talking about?
She was the one who didn’t understand why he’d betrayed her trust.
FOUR (#ulink_8672f7e4-076a-5920-a5cd-6e1a032a856a)
Nick was grateful for the buzzer that rang when the coffee was ready. Seeing the surprise written on Lizzie’s face when he’d mentioned convalescent leave had him hoping she might still have feelings for him. Then he realized his mistake. The past was long gone.
He pointed her toward the kitchen. “I’ve got milk in the fridge, and the sugar bowl is on the counter.” He pulled two mugs from the cabinet and filled them.
“Black works for me,” she said, accepting the cup he offered.
He took a sip. Hopefully, the hearty brew would clear his mind. He was way too aware of Lizzie—Elizabeth. He needed to stay focused and on task. The mission came first. He understood that in combat. He needed to remember that now. He couldn’t let Lizzie’s nearness veer him off course.
“Let’s take a look at Zack’s computer.” Nick ushered her toward the table in the great room.
Her eyes widened as she ran her hand over the smooth surface. “The wood’s beautiful.”
“Thanks. As they say, one man’s junk is another man’s treasure.”
He smiled at her raised brow and went on to explain, “I found the table in a flea market north of here, near the Kentucky state line. Solid oak and built in the mid-1800s, but covered with layers of chipped paint. Bringing the wood back to its original beauty was a work of love.”
“And the chairs?” She pointed to the set of Windsors with spindle backs sturdy enough to support even someone his size.
“Another find that required hours of labor but was worth the effort.”
She scooted into one of the chairs while he opened Zack’s laptop. Sitting next to her, he pushed the power button and waited for the password request.
“Annabelle’s birthday.” Elizabeth provided the date.
After he punched in the digits, the screen saver came into view, showing Zack’s wife, cradling an infant in her arms, no doubt Joey. Their toddler daughter stood cuddled at her side.
The depth of the family’s loss tugged at Nick’s heart. “Mary Grace looks just like her mother.”
Elizabeth nodded. “And Joey takes after Zack.”
Nick smiled. “A future investigative reporter, perhaps?”
“I hope not.” The seriousness in her tone reminded Nick—as if he needed a reminder—that Zack’s search for the truth had placed his life in danger.
“I’ll pull up his documents.”
Working quickly, Nick looked for anything that might shed light on the identity of the murdered informant or Zack’s current investigation. He read through a series of files with information Zack had probably used in past blog posts. Some of them focused on the Lassiter police department and possible corruption, which wouldn’t put Zack in good stead with the local authorities. Whether that played into what had happened tonight, Nick wasn’t sure.
He double-clicked on a file Zack had opened yesterday. A list of names unfolded across the screen. “Recognize anyone?”
Liz leaned closer and pointed out two names. “These guys were a couple years behind me in high school. I see them around town occasionally, but I don’t know them personally.”
“Can you think of anything they share in common other than attending the same high school?”
She shook her head. “Unfortunately, no.”
After working through the majority of the files without success, Nick stretched back in his chair and rubbed his neck. “Zack isn’t making this easy.”
Liz scooted away from the table and stood. “You keep searching. I’ll check on the children.”
Nick was relieved to have some breathing room. Being close to Lizzie required self-control. He wanted to touch her hand and feel the softness of her skin.
He chuckled inwardly. Silly for him to think she’d feel the same attraction, almost a magnetic force that was stronger than he could handle at the moment.
Everything about Lizzie was a distraction and seeing her concern for the children was even more so. She’d make a great mom and should have a houseful of kids of her own. Instead, she taught a classroom of other people’s children. No doubt, she was a terrific teacher, but she needed a family, as well.
Maybe caffeine would help clear his head.
“Want some more coffee?” he called up to her as she climbed the stairs to his bedroom.
“A glass of water would be good.” He heard the smile in her voice and his chest tightened, wanting to do anything to make her happy.
Her face had been washed with worry since he’d arrived at Zack’s house. No wonder. Hard to look beyond the danger they were in. If they could elude the killers until Zack could hand his information over to the proper authorities, then this mission would end on a good note.
It had to end well.
Shaking off the ominous feelings that came with his thoughts, Nick dropped his cup into the sink and poured water into two glasses. He gulped half a glass and refilled it before carrying both to the table.
The local all-night television channel aired news on the hour. He hit the remote and lowered the volume. A commercial played across the screen.
Hearing Lizzie’s footfalls coming down the stairs, he turned. She smiled at him, and he felt buoyed by her gaze.
“Both children are sound asleep,” she said.
“They’re great kids.”
“The best.” She glanced at the table. “Thanks for the water.”
He handed her the glass. Stepping closer to take it, she glanced up. The look on her face was telling. Lizzie had stepped too close.
His heart pounded in his chest. The thump, thump, thump was so strong, she’d surely think a snare drum was coming from the TV.
She didn’t mention his heartbeat. Instead, she focused on his lips, her eyes scorching him with their gaze.
The world faded away, and all he saw was Lizzie, even more beautiful than he remembered. More than anything, he wanted to reach for her and pull her close. Everything inside him yearned for her kiss.
She leaned in closer, almost as if she wanted the kiss as badly as he did. But then she glanced at the television, the spell of the moment broken.
Her face darkened. She gasped. Nick followed her gaze to the photograph plastered on the plasma screen.
A photo of Zack.
The newscaster’s voice, although faint, could be heard in the stillness.
“Zack Tate, noted investigative reporter and author of the controversial blog “Z” Notes, is wanted in connection with a man found murdered in the roadside park off Phillips Road.”
“No,” Lizzie moaned as she walked closer to the television. Nick picked up the remote and increased the volume.
“The unidentified man was shot to death and found in the rear of the park rest stop a short time ago. A police spokesperson said evidence found at the site of the murder makes Zack Tate a person of interest. He’s considered armed and dangerous, and the public is asked to use caution and call the authorities if they spot Tate.”
Nick put his hand on her shoulder, offering support.
The newscast continued. “Most people know Tate from his blog. Over the years, many of the stories he’s featured have been highly inflammatory toward local authorities. The police have long said Tate paints law enforcement in a less than favorable light, which has hindered their effectiveness within the community.”
“No wonder the cops are upset,” Nick said. “Zack exposed their duplicity.”
Lizzie shuddered when Annabelle’s name was mentioned.
“Tate’s wife died thirteen months ago, and an unnamed source questions whether foul play could have been involved. His two young children, age six and four, are missing along with his sister, Elizabeth Tate, a teacher at Lassiter Elementary. She’s also wanted for questioning.”
Nick didn’t like hearing Lizzie’s name mentioned in connection with the murder. If law enforcement wanted to question her, she would be in added danger if the police turned a blind eye to the law.
When the newscast went to a commercial break, Nick lowered the volume and threw the remote on the couch. “Zack was right. Everyone’s on the take. He’s being set up to take the fall for the informant’s death. They want so badly to smear his name that they’re even creating suspicions about his wife’s death.”
“At least the police haven’t apprehended him yet.”
The police wouldn’t find Zack if the four thugs had already grabbed him. Not that Nick would share that thought with Lizzie.
“His past blogs hit too close to home,” he said. “Someone must have decided he needed to be silenced. Maybe the meeting with the whistleblower was a setup to lure Zack in. Dirty cops can’t be trusted, especially if someone threatens to expose their underhanded dealings.”
