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“The first two times weren’t all that bad.” She shrugged. “Just slaps, a few bruises. It wouldn’t have gone that far if I hadn’t stood up to him. He hated it when I defended myself. Both times, he cooled off and apologized, promised it would never happen again. I warned him if it did, I would leave him for good no matter what he said.”
Damien ground his teeth so hard it hurt. She went on. “Neighbors heard the row the last time. By the time they got there, I was conscious and told them what happened. They called the police who caught Jack and arrested him.
“My lawyer showed the judge medical records from the other times. Jack pled guilty. He knew if it came to a jury trial, everything would be public.”
“I still say we should have told Ford everything,” Brenda said.
“Ford would have killed him. It was all I could do to keep him from it when he thought the fight was partly my fault. I didn’t want my own brother arrested for murder. Jack had counted on that before. He told me so and joked about it. Why do you think he didn’t post bail? Think the Jensens couldn’t afford it? The jerk was scared to get out, afraid Ford would come after him.”
“He doesn’t seem worried about that now?” Damien asked.
Molly sighed. “No. That’s why I think Jack’s really lost it.”
“I certainly understand your brother’s probable reaction,” Damien admitted. He flexed his fists. “I have an urge to kill Jensen myself.”
“Oh, great!” Molly groaned. “I break my neck trying to keep Ford out of it, and now you want to kill him.”
She shrugged, a helpless little gesture he’d not seen her make before. Then she settled that teary green gaze on him and blinked. Her voice was softer than he’d heard it yet. “Damien? All I want is for him to leave me alone. Promise me you won’t do anything stupid. I figured you wouldn’t act as rashly as Ford would. That’s why I asked you to help.”
He sucked in a deep breath and released it slowly. So, Molly did have regard for him, after all, just as she did for her brother. She didn’t want either of them to risk a murder charge because of what her ex had done and might yet do.
But Molly was depending on his finding some way to stop the madness and make certain she, her daughter and mother were safe from Jensen.
Damien knew killing Jack Jensen would be a simple matter. He could, and get away with it, too. God knew he wanted to right now. Jensen deserved death probably more than some men Damien had killed in the line of duty. But Damien always tried to work within the law. He hated to turn rogue this late in the game. Not as long as there were other options.
“I won’t do anything stupid, Molly,” he said with a half smile he had to force. “I promise you that.”
Molly had faced the shame she felt pretty well, she thought. She lifted her chin and dared both Damien and her mother to feel sorry for her.
Jack was a bully, or worse, and she’d been his victim for nearly a year. Degrading as that was, she figured she might as well lay it all out and be done with it. She would not be a victim again.
Damien seemed almost as likely to get himself into trouble over this as Ford was. Molly felt torn between talking him out of it and spurring him on. Something had to be done.
“Clarkston’s not that far away, but you and the child should be safe there,” Damien told her mother, neatly changing the subject back to their trip.
Her mom nodded. “After Molly and I talked on the phone, I told Josie she would need to take over the shop for a while. As far as she knows, I’m going on a buying trip up to New England. No point in letting everybody and his brother know where we’re going, right?”
“Right,” Damien agreed, smiling his approval. “We’ll try to get this straightened out soon so you won’t be away for too long.”
Molly agreed. “We’ll have to get things rolling right away. Damien can’t afford to hang around here forever.”
Those azure eyes seemed to ask, Why not? She quickly looked away.
Her mother smiled. “This is really good of you, Damien. I guess Ford will owe you one, won’t he?”
“He won’t owe me anything,” Damien said truthfully. “I’m doing this for Molly and Sydney. And now you, of course.”
Uh-oh, that went over like a helium balloon, Molly thought. Sent all kinds of hopes soaring. Her mother’s glance darted from one to other of them, that calculating gleam in her eye.
Molly decided she’d better head this off before Mama rented the church and started sewing Syd’s flower girl dress.
“C’mon, Mama, let’s get your things, so we can go,” she suggested.
Soon afterward, Damien loaded Brenda’s two suitcases into the trunk of his rental car while Molly strapped the baby into her car seat. Much to his disappointment, Molly climbed into the back and offered her mother the front passenger seat.
As he drove, Damien executed a number of unnecessary detours and kept a close eye out for anyone following them.
He only half listened while Brenda Devereaux enumerated Molly’s long list of accomplishments and threw in a few incidental brags about her grandchild.
He smiled to himself, suspecting there was a bit of matchmaking going on here. While that should have made him nervous as hell, Damien felt flattered by the attempt.
A moment later he checked the rearview mirror again and his lingering smile died a swift death. “Check your seat belts, ladies,” he warned, “we have company.”
Chapter 4
The Lexus careered around the curves of the county road and flew headlong into the darkness. Molly surrounded Sydney with one arm and braced her other hand against the back of the front seat.
She glanced out the back window and saw the headlights behind them fade into the distance. A few moments later she couldn’t see them at all.
“For a rental, this thing really…moves,” she gasped. Damien slowed down a little, but her heart was still traveling at least ninety miles an hour.
She and her mother gave a little scream in unison as Damien cut the lights and bumped off the main road onto one that was unpaved. How he could see where they were going mystified Molly. She closed her eyes and held on, one arm braced across Syd’s car seat.
Only a few minutes later, he suddenly braked and shut off the motor.
“Lock the doors and stay where you are,” Damien instructed. Then he exited the car, closed the door and disappeared into the night.
“Not one to dawdle, is he?” Brenda whispered with a nervous laugh. “Wonder if he’s that quick about everything.”
“Hush, Mama!”
“How’s Sydney?”
“Out like a light,” Molly answered absently, craning around to look out the back window, seeing only the dense blackness surrounding them. She felt claustrophobic.
“Can you see anything, Mama? I wonder what he’s doing.”
“Don’t you trust him to look after us? He seems very capable to me.”
“It’s not that,” Molly answered. “I just wonder where he went.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that boy getting lost.”
Molly huffed. “‘Boy’?”
Brenda laughed again. “I like him.”
So do I, Molly thought. Entirely too much. She stared out into the night, seeing and hearing absolutely nothing. “He must have eyes like a cat!”
They sat silently for a few minutes listening to Sydney’s light snoring. That’s when Molly noticed the faint light flickering indirectly against the foliage on either side of the car.
Something began bumping and scraping underneath, a sound that continued for some time. “What in the world is he doing?” she whispered.
In the stillness, the sound grew louder, making its way around the entire vehicle. Then the beam of light reappeared, illuminating Damien’s face as he rapped on the glass with his knuckle.
Her mother popped the locks and Damien got in. He handed her the penlight. “Hold this. Shine it on my hands.”
“What are you doing?” Molly asked when she saw him open the pocket knife on his key chain.
“Deactivating this,” he muttered. “Tracking device.”
Seconds later he calmly fastened his seat belt. “All clear now.”
He cranked up and slowly began backing out of the woods and onto the dirt road. Expertly, he maneuvered the car to the main highway, switched on the lights and continued as though nothing had happened. In the opposite direction.
“What did you do to the car?” she asked.
“I was looking for this,” he said, holding up a small black object he had been working on. “It was attached underneath the bumper. I knew Jensen wasn’t following us as we left the city. Not closely enough for me to detect, at any rate.”
Brenda clicked her tongue against her teeth. “Now where the devil would Jack get a thing like that?”
Damien shrugged. “It’s just a simple device, nothing sophisticated that he would need any real connections to obtain. Only a cut above a radar detector.”
Molly scoffed. “I can’t believe he did this!”
“First bit of evidence,” Damien said, dropping the gadget into his jacket pocket.
Molly suddenly realized that Jack would have had to approach her house this very night to put the tracker in place. He would have been right there in her driveway, fiddling with Damien’s car while they sat in her house waiting to leave. He could have done worse. What if he had tampered with the brakes? Or put a bomb under the car?
“But how did he know we were going anywhere? Could my house be bugged? Did he hear everything we said?”
“No, I checked all the rooms for listening devices. Your phones, as well. Best guess is that he’s watching your place or has hired someone else to do it. I think he just wants to track you wherever you go and then turn up unexpectedly. I’d be willing to bet he’s had a tracker on your van for some time now. When I showed up, he probably decided to place one on this car for the same reason.”
Molly pushed back in her seat and covered her face with her hands, willing her anger to overcome the fear. Then she looked up at the rearview mirror. The dash lights provided a dim reflection of Damien’s eyes, those wonderful blue eyes.
How in the world could he calm and reassure her with a glance and create such turmoil in her at the same time?
Shortly after one in the morning, Damien drove through Clarkston, the small town where he had rented the house for Brenda Devereaux and the baby. He swung into the parking lot of a Texaco station, chose a shadowy corner, and cut the engine.
“They’ve rolled up the sidewalks, I see,” Brenda remarked, propping her elbow on the window and resting her head on her hand. “Don’t see a soul.”
She sounded and looked exhausted. Hell, they were all fatigued except for the baby. Little Sydney slept on, unaware that her father had caused such a ruckus. Hopefully Jensen would never locate them in this place. Still, one could never be too careful.
No cars cruised the streets. Even the convenience store opposite the gas station was closed for the night. Except for a few lighted windows in a house here and there—late-night readers or late show enthusiasts—it appeared the entire town of Clarkston was asleep.
Satisfied they had not been followed or anticipated, Damien pulled out onto the street, counting the houses north from the first traffic light until he came to the one he sought.
The streetlights illuminated the typical, small, Southern-town cottage, a modest one-story, its fat square columns supporting the roof of a wide front porch. The house sat near the end of Main Street, sandwiched between two others that appeared similar in style. An added benefit was the proximity to a three-man police station situated only two blocks away.
Though everyone knew it was much easier to hide someone in a large city, Damien figured now was definitely the time to do the unexpected. Jensen probably wouldn’t bother looking for Brenda and the baby anyway when he realized Molly hadn’t accompanied them into hiding.
He made a mental note to thank the local Bureau office and especially the agent whom he had contacted earlier. When he had explained the situation, and told her about Ford’s sister, Agent Kim Avery suggested this place and made the arrangements. It certainly fit all his specifications. The location was perfect.
Even the rent had proved reasonable, though he would never tell Molly this came out of his pocket. As far as she knew, they were making use of a regular safe house.
“Why, this looks lovely, Damien!” Brenda remarked as they pulled into the driveway and the car lights flashed the front of the structure.
“All the comforts of home, I hope.” He shut off the car and got out, opened the back door first and lifted the baby out for Molly.
Damien couldn’t deny how he looked forward to holding the child again. It wouldn’t do to dwell much on just why he felt that way. She was cute, that was all. Cuddly and sweet, like a puppy you could hand back to the owner once you’d admired it sufficiently.
Such trust, to sleep in a stranger’s arms, Damien thought to himself. He could hardly credit it, even in one so young. He had rarely slept in the presence of another person, except in dorms and army barracks when he’d had no choice. Even then, he’d had to be all but comatose with exhaustion to do so.
Under sedation in the hospital, he’d had no problem sleeping. Of course, at that time he had almost hoped someone would sneak in and put him out of his misery.
He smiled inwardly, mocking the inborn caution he often carried to extremes. Damien sometimes wondered if he hadn’t embarked on professions that made his bogeymen very real, just so he could finally confront them face-to-face.
He held the totally limp child, her tiny bum resting on his forearm and her head on his shoulder, until they reached the front door.
“Better let me go in first,” he said. Quickly he shifted Sydney to her mother’s arms, knelt to retrieve the key from under the potted geranium where Kim had said she would leave it.
“Wait here in the shadows where you can’t be seen from the street,” he ordered. The women did exactly as he said without any argument.
He pulled his weapon, released the safety and unlocked the door. His search was not cursory, even though he didn’t believe there was any way Jack could have discovered their destination.
When he found the place entirely safe as he’d expected, he clicked on a lamp in the living room, returned to the front door and pushed it open. “Come in, ladies. It’s actually much more agreeable than I’d hoped.”
“Was that really necessary? Jack couldn’t possibly have been hiding out in there,” Molly snapped as she brushed past him into the house. He immediately forgave her impatience. She was tired and the child was heavy. Her nerves were probably shot.
He smiled at her. “No, but Jack’s not the only bear in the woods, now is he? I was merely being cautious.”
“And we thank you, don’t we, Molly?” Brenda asked with a meaningful nod and a dark look at her daughter. He had never considered that a mother might reprimand a fully grown child with any effect.
“Sorry,” Molly murmured grudgingly. “Thanks.”
Damien turned away so she couldn’t see his grin. “You’re quite welcome. Well, what do you think?” He gestured toward the dimly lit room furnished with Victorian replicas and faded fabrics. Old-fashioned crocheted antimacassars and knickknacks remained where they’d probably been for decades. He rather liked it.
Agent Avery said the owner had died and the heir was delighted to rent until he had time to arrange an auction for the furnishings and the house.
Damien had hired Avery to stock the kitchen, have the beds made up and linens put out. All the comforts of home. This was the agent’s hometown, as luck would have it, and she’d even provided a cover story for Brenda so she wouldn’t be a stranger in town.
“A little bit prissy, but it looks cozy. It’s nice,” Molly said, trailing her free hand along the back of a damask-covered chair. She wandered down the wide hall and pushed open a bedroom door.
Brenda followed. Damien left them to explore the house while he brought in the luggage.
He set it down in the hallway, returned to lock the door and turn out the light in the living room. Then he followed their voices to the master bedroom.
They were exclaiming over the crib placed near the large tester bed where Brenda had declared she would sleep.
