The Protector Page 22

  Maybe it wasn’t too late to stop her. He had to stop her. With the FBI fiasco all over the news, they’d managed to disclose her whereabouts yet again. No doubt the terrorists who wanted her dead were just waiting for the opportunity to finish her once and for all.

  Sprinting past fertile furrows of grape vines, Eryn arrived, at last, at the dirt track where the Sheriff had dropped them off earlier. She followed it uphill, where it spit her out on a country road.

  Looking both ways, she broke right, away from the vineyard, away from Ike. Ignoring a cramp pinching her midsection and the fact that her sockless heels were rubbing the backs of her shoes, she lengthened her stride, drawing on the strength of will that Ike had taught her.

  All it took to gain top speed was to picture him behind bars.

  Never! She pumped her arms, sucked more air into her lungs, and stretched the ligaments in her thighs, running as swiftly as she ever had.

  Rays of late afternoon sunlight combed through the branches of trees that lined the adjacent field. Pastures of bright green grass and wildflowers stretched in all directions, broken up by fences like the one she paralleled.

  Sweat cooled her upper lip and trickled down her spine. Her heels began to burn, but she did not slow down.

  Just as she approached a crossroad, a helicopter, larger than the one that had chased them earlier, broke over the horizon ahead of her, shattering the bucolic quiet.

  Startled, certain it belonged to the search party hunting her, Eryn broke left, onto a rural route where she hugged the shadows of the trees that lined it. Uncertainty had begun to weight her legs, limiting her stride. Tears stabbed at her eyes.

  She had no way of knowing if she’d done the right thing. Without Ike, she felt suddenly vulnerable, suddenly exposed. God, she missed him already! The road beneath her feet blurred before her eyes as tears rolled onto her cheeks and dried in the air that sent her hair streaming.

  Hearing an engine behind her, she craned her neck to look back. A truck had turned off the road behind her and was drawing nearer. The hope that Ike might be in it made her tremble with hope, but as it overtook her, the driver proved to be a bearded stranger, who gawked at her as he drove past.

  The encounter sapped her energy. Loneliness and desolation overtook her abruptly, and she slowed to a brisk walk, peering about, feeling lost. There was no more traffic here, only trees and yards and an occasional clapboard home, nestled in flowering bushes. A steeple rose over the treetops up ahead, and the helicopter sounded farther away.

  Ike might well have realized she was gone by now. He would be frantic when he found she’d left. Furious. He would search for her.

  Please don’t, she prayed, dreading the prospect of him and the FBI converging on her at the same time. There would be a confrontation. Ike would be arrested.

  Picturing him cuffed and stuffed into a vehicle, she picked up her pace, hobbling now for the blister on her left heel. As she limped past the church and several dwellings, a dog chained to a tree, lunged at her and barked. The curtains in the window twitched.

  Feeling eyes on her, she tried to run again. But her energy stores were all used up. Suddenly, the phone in her pocket vibrated. She slowed to a walk and pulled it out. “Yes,” she gasped, expecting to hear Jackson’s voice.

  “Where are you?”

  Ike’s voice, gruff with urgency, brought her to a halt. She pressed a fist to the stitch in her side and swallowed the sob rising up her throat. “You shouldn’t call me. They’ll find you,” she warned him.

  “I told you not to do this.” His voice cracked.

  Was he furious or fearful? she wondered. “I didn’t mean for it to happen,” she cried, desperate to absolve herself in his eyes. “I just had to talk to Jackson, to persuade him to stop chasing us.”

  Movement in the corner of her eye drew her gaze toward the house with the dog. An old woman now stood in the shadows of her porch, watching her intently. Eryn’s nape prickled. “He told me if I got away from you quickly, he would pick me up and leave you out of this. I’ll talk to them, Ike. I’ll make them see you were just trying to help me.”

  “What the hell am I supposed to tell your father?” he thundered quietly.

  Was that all he was worried about, what her father thought? “I’m sorry.” Regret choked her, making it hard for her to speak. “I didn’t know what else to do! I love you, Ike,” she added, throwing caution to the wind in telling him the truth. “I can’t stand the thought of you getting in trouble because of me.” Tears tracked her overheated cheeks.

  The silence on the other end was so complete that Eryn glanced at the phone to check her reception. “Ike?”

  “Just tell me where you are,” he implored, and her heart gave a pang of disappointment. He hadn’t even acknowledged her confession.

  The sound of an approaching car had her whirling around to see a familiar, green sedan turning the corner and speeding toward her. “It’s too late,” she answered, torn by the possibility that she would never hold Ike again. “They’re already here. Good-bye, Ike. I hope I see you soon.” With profound regret, she ended the call.

  Ike stared sightlessly out the mud-splattered windshield of Chris’s off-road Jeep. The click against his ear as Eryn hung up tore into him like shrapnel. His fist closed over the cell phone until it bruised his palm. At the same time, he savored the words that pillowed his heart against blows of frustration.

  I love you, Ike. How could four small words change everything? Yet, they did. He’d intended, after dropping Eryn off with Cougar, to head straight for Canada, where the FBI wouldn’t find him, where his survival skills would serve him well. There on some cold, remote mountain, he would nurse his misbegotten infatuation for a woman he did not deserve.

  But her words swept away those plans in an instant. They filled him with a sense of destiny and purpose. Knowing Eryn loved him made abandoning her unthinkable.

  Chris’s knock on the window, startled him back to the present. Ike rolled down the window.

  “Did you reach her?” his friend asked. “Are you going?”

  Ike handed him back his cell phone. “It’s too late,” he conveyed with numb acceptance. “They’re picking her up right now.”

  Chris’s blue gaze reflected sympathy as they searched Ike’s expression. “So what will you do?” he asked. “Are you still taking off?”

  “No.” He realized he had every reason in the world to protect Eryn, still. And, given his special skill set, it seemed like fate, for he knew exactly what it would take to liberate her from terror, once and for all. “I have a job to finish,” he added, glancing at the pack on the seat beside him. Everything he needed was there, including a bottle of Naked Creek Vineyard’s 2008 Meritage. Thrusting his hand out the window, he wasted precious seconds thanking his host properly.

  With a wave at Marie, who stood at the winery doors looking concerned, Ike cranked the Jeep’s engine, worked the gears, and pulled away.

  Grim but ennobling determination spurred his heart into a trot.

  All he had to do was kill the terrorists before they struck again.

  Eryn wilted with relief to see Jackson alone in the government issued Taurus. The sight of Winston in the back seat chased away a portion of her despondency.

  “Hop in,” said the agent, his light-colored eyes flicking toward the house with the dog. “We’re being watched.”

  Eryn leapt into the front seat and turned to hug Winston. Her face was still buried in the fur at his neck when the car lurched forward.

  “I’m surprised you came alone,” she muttered, sitting back and latching her seatbelt. “I’d have thought the whole posse would come after me,” she added bitterly.

  With a sidelong glance of sympathy, Jackson executed a three-point turn and took off with a spray of loose gravel. “You hear that helicopter?” he asked, glancing toward the treetops.

  “Yes.”

  “That’s MSNBC news. If three agents went streaking off to pick you up, th
ey’d be right on top of us.”

  Eryn stared at him aghast. “This is getting national coverage,” she realized.

  “Correct. That’s what happens when you bring an army into a small town,” he added, mocking the FBI’s tactics. They sped down the country route toward the wider road.

  “Then why’d you do it?” Eryn demanded. “I was perfectly safe with Ike.”

  His full lips quirked ruefully. “Believe me, I’ve tried convincing my boss of that, but he won’t listen to reason. And, unfortunately, Calhoun’s got a glitch in his military record—”

  “I know all about that. It wasn’t his fault.” As they turned left toward town, she glanced in the direction of the vineyard, longing for Ike.

  “He’s got an arsenal in his basement,” Jackson added, “and he fired his weapon at a federal agent.”

  “He is not a criminal! And that stuff in his basement is for the course he teaches.” Heat surged into Eryn’s face as she whipped her head around to glare at him. “Why the hell is the media saying he abducted me?”

  Jackson shook his head. “Because my boss is an ass. The media made that assumption when he called in our Hostage Rescue Team. Why else would they be needed?”

  Tears of frustration stabbed at her eyes, threatening her composure. She turned her face away to collect herself.

  The soothing hand Jackson placed on her shoulder put a lump in her throat. “You have every right to be upset, Eryn. Believe me, I’ve been upset on your behalf. But don’t worry. I’ll keep a closer eye on you this time.”

  She could tell he meant it, too, but the promise failed to reassure her. She would rather have Ike watching her. Hugging her dog’s neck, she stared blindly at the asphalt ribbon unraveling before them and wondered if the terrorists were watching the news, plotting their next course of action. A sense of unease pulled her scalp tight.

  “So, where is Calhoun now?” Jackson’s casual question drew her attention back.

  “You know I’m not going to tell you that.”

  “I hope he has the sense to keep his distance.”

  Seeing him glance into the rearview mirror, she looked into her own side mirror at the mud-splattered Jeep pacing them. It was too far back and too stained with mud for her to make out the driver. Still, something told her Ike was in it. A thousand butterflies spread their wings inside of her and lifted off.

  It would be just like Ike to ignore the threat of imprisonment to keep a watchful eye on her. She didn’t know whether to cry for joy or weep in despair.

  To her sharp dismay, the Jeep turned off at an intersection and disappeared. Jackson’s grip on the steering wheel relaxed. Eryn sat more heavily in her seat and expelled a long breath.

  As they turned up the ramp to take the highway to Elkton, she saw that the blockade was still in effect. Tapping his horn, Jackson swerved around the waiting cars and broke into the oncoming lane. The National Guardsman waved him down irately. Jackson displayed his badge, scarcely slowing, and the guardsman let them through.

  At the same time, the media helicopter honed in on them. It hovered over them, moving at the same speed as the Taurus. As its thundering rotors sent the windows vibrating, Winston started to whine.

  Maddox shot the helicopter a dark look. “I think the woman watching you earlier alerted the media,” he said, having to raise his voice to be heard over the ruckus.

  Eryn peered in consternation at the white helicopter with the MSNBC logo clearly displayed on one side. “They know I’m in this car?”

  “I think so.”

  “Where are you taking me?”

  “To the Sheriff’s Office. Sorry,” he added, “but it’s the only safe place. The entire town is crammed with journalists and media. They’re going to make a rush at us. Stick close to me when we get there,” he added. “Keep your head down and don’t talk to anyone.”

  Eryn considered his instructions. “Maybe I want to talk to the media,” she considered out loud.

  Jackson shot her a worried look.

  “To clear Ike’s name,” she added. “So everyone knows he was protecting me.”

  “Not today, Eryn. I promised you, I’ll try to get his charges dropped.”

  “But what if you can’t?”

  “Look, all my supervisor wants is you. Once he has you, he’ll forget about Calhoun.”

  “He damn well better,” she retorted with prim indignation.

  Jackson quirked an eyebrow at her. “You’ve changed,” he said, approvingly.

  “You’re right. This is my life, and no one’s going to stop me from living it—not the terrorists and definitely not the FBI.”

  Her outburst made the agent grin. “Now you’re talking.”

  Letting the Taurus out of his sight put a fist of anxiety in Ike’s stomach. But he couldn’t ignore the manhunt underway for him. Every main road in and out of the area was choked by National Guardsmen screening vehicles.

  Tuning the radio to the local station, he listened for a moment and concluded that the agent would take Eryn into Elkton. Shifting into four-wheel drive, he eased off the road, lurched through a ditch, and forded a field that would be planted with corn shortly. Getting closer to Eryn without being caught would entail a little bit of trespassing and circumlocution, but for a former Navy SEAL, there was no such thing as impossible.

  Whatever it took to keep her in his sight, he would do.

  Eryn drew a sharp breath at the sight awaiting her. Block after block of Elkton’s downtown area was lined with news vans, cars, even motorcycles. Pedestrians toting cameras or wearing sharp-looking suits that marked them as journalists milled aimlessly in front of the two and three-story buildings, a hodgepodge of quaint, historical structures and cinderblock eyesores.

  Maddox pressed the accelerator, intent on sweeping her through the crowd unnoticed. But one by one, individuals caught sight of the green sedan and gesticulated. Heads swiveled in their direction. Fingers pointed. In one accord, the crowd began to surge toward the official-looking brick building advertised as Elkton Town Hall.

  Maddox swept into the parking lot, scattering the crowd by beeping the horn. Individuals seemed determined to get run over. They surrounded the sedan as Maddox drew alongside a huge RV and killed the engine. The hum of voices and a sense of chaos enveloped Eryn as she met Jackson’s reassuring gaze.

  “I’ll come around and get you,” he said. Pushing out of the car, he let Winston out first. Cameras clicked as the media photographed Eryn’s dog. Elbowing his way to her door, he curtly ordered the crowd to back up. Then he opened her door, curled a steady hand around her elbow, and pulled her out.

  Still, the journalists pressed in on them, thrusting cameras in her face, bombarding her with a barrage of questions. She could see her pale reflection in several of the lenses. A sea of microphones danced before her eyes.

  “Miss McClellan, do you have a comment for our viewers?”

  “Move aside,” Maddox snarled. The impeccably dressed journalist thinned her lips and stepped back.

  “Were you mistreated by the Navy SEAL who abducted you?” asked another voice.

  Eryn jerked to a stop, her temper ignited by the ridiculous and tactless question.

  “Not now,” Jackson grated. Using his broad shoulders to clear a path, he escorted her toward two men dressed like the soldiers she and Ike had encountered in the forest. The armed men stepped aside, revealing a door marked Sheriff’s Office. Jackson pulled it open and propelled her inside. They collided with two men on their way out, Jackson’s colleagues, Ringo and Caine.

  Both men looked startled to see them.

  “You found her!” Ringo exclaimed.

  The fair-haired agent who was their supervisor divided an incredulous gaze between them, his nostrils flaring. “Where in hell have you been, Rookie?” he demanded. “How the fuck did you find her?”

  “I’ve already told you, sir, that I won’t tolerate being cursed at, especially not with a lady present,” Jackson retorted, ignoring
the man’s question.

  “Don’t get smart with me, Rookie.” The supervisor’s pale eyes narrowed. “Now, what’s going on behind my back?”

  In what was clearly a gesture of solidarity, Jackson looped a casual arm over Eryn’s shoulders. “Nothing, sir. Miss McClellan called my cell phone, and I went to pick her up.”

  “Is that right?” The man’s complexion turned an unbecoming shade of red. “Then where the hell is Calhoun?” he grated.

  “No idea, sir,” Jackson said, easily.

  It was all Eryn could do to conceal her gratitude. She hadn’t realized Jackson had picked her up without the other agents’ knowledge. She looked down at the floor to keep her satisfaction from showing.