Outrunning Danger, page 6
Tucker’s fists tightened on the wheel and his mouth was a grim line. “I won’t believe it’s someone in our K9 unit.”
“Until we can verify how this lunatic knew where to find you, I want you to communicate with me only.”
“Understood,” Tucker responded. His shoulders slumped, and Tara reached out and placed a hand on his arm.
“Update me after you search the van.” Marcus disconnected the call.
Tara leaned closer, trying to get him to glance her way. “Tucker, I can’t believe any of the officers I’ve met are capable of this. There must be something else.”
“I’d trust every one of my fellow K9 officers with my life.” His eyes were narrowed and hard. “You’re right. There has to be something we’ve missed.”
Tucker flicked on the turn signal and exited the highway, pulling into the corner of a large gas station and travel plaza. He yanked his baseball cap off and tossed it on the seat. Tara watched as he began a meticulous search of the van for anything suspicious. At one point he dropped out of sight as he got onto his back and shimmied under the van with a flashlight. He emerged with a streak of grease across his forehead that he tried to brush off with his arm. Tara leaned out the window with some paper napkins and he wiped at it, then tackled the dirt on his hands before wadding it up and throwing it into a nearby trash can.
“The van looks clean. I can’t find anything suspicious.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and stared into the distance.
She rested her arms on the window frame. “Does it have to be one of your fellow officers? Is there anyone else who would have access to what’s going on? A clerical person, or someone in IT?”
He shook his head. “Luca in IT is topnotch. The information he has access to is staggering, but his sister was killed by a gun smuggled into the country by a goon like Platt. He’s on a mission to put these bad guys behind bars. And no one in clerical would have been in the loop about the discussion to hide out at my cabin.” He scrubbed his hands down his face and turned to her. “We’ve overlooked something.”
Tara nodded. “It’s scary when you don’t know who your friends are, who you can trust. That happened to Michael.” She bit her lip as a tear trickled down her cheek. “He was a police informant, and his undercover contact seemed more focused on the outcome than in making sure Michael was safe and not compromised.”
“I’m sorry you had to experience that,” Tucker said. “Most of us who work undercover don’t want the end result to be at the expense of the people involved.”
Tucker’s phone pinged, and he turned away as he pulled it from his pocket. Tara watched as he spoke to the chief, nodding his head, glancing at her, then nodding again. So far, he was as different from Evan Schenk as night and day. It probably wasn’t fair to condemn all undercover officers because she knew of one who was more interested in getting ahead than in having the backs of the people he worked with. That profile didn’t fit Tucker at all.
He ended the call, then climbed in behind the wheel and turned to her. “When the police arrived at the scene where the Jeep went off the road, the driver was gone. They combed the area, but he’s disappeared. The vehicle was wiped clean with no identifying information. They’re going to ask around at some of the fast-food places and gas stations in the area in the event anyone recognized a banged-up man without a vehicle loitering about their property.”
Tara shuddered. “It’s so sinister how he just appeared.”
“I agree. But he’s on foot without his vehicle, and we’re soon going to be miles ahead of where he ran off the road. The plan is to continue to the cabin and travel with eyes in the backs of our heads.” He smiled. “Marcus wants an update every hour on the hour and is notifying the Galveston PD to be on standby if we need anything. He’s not giving them the location of the cabin at this time. The fewer who know about it, the better.”
Tucker cranked the ignition. Before he could put the vehicle in Drive, Tara reached out and put a hand on his arm. He paused and turned in his seat to face her, his eyebrows raised and the hint of a smile on his lips. Her heart tripped over itself at the warmth in his eyes. “I’m sorry I lumped you into the same category as his police contact, Evan Schenk. You’re not like him at all.”
He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “You’re right. My top priority is keeping you safe. We’re in this together. That’s a promise.”
She nodded. “I’m holding you to it.”
“Then let’s hit the road…again,” he said, pulling out of the gas station and back onto the highway.
* * *
Tucker darted his gaze back and forth between the windshield and the rearview mirror so often he began to feel dizzy. Every car that pulled behind them sent a zip of alarm through his body. Staying hyperalert was far more exhausting than chasing a suspect on foot, and he craved a cup of coffee. Now was not the time. He wasn’t about to take any more detours. It could wait until he got to the cabin.
He glanced over at Tara who was as vigilant as he was, her head on a swivel as cars rushed past them. A feeling like pride swelled within him at the memory of her leaning out the window and firing at their assailant’s tires. What was he thinking? He clenched his jaw. She shouldn’t be the one shooting at suspects. It was his job to protect her. But if she hadn’t been so quick and accurate with his Glock, they might not be on the road now to Galveston Bay.
She was as brave as she was beautiful. Despite the danger they were in, there was a little thrill of excitement buzzing inside him that he hadn’t experienced in a long time. He stole another glance at her before he could stop himself. Her hair was now hanging loose, and she’d plopped the baseball cap on her head. She took his breath away.
His cautious inner voice berated him. After Deacon’s death and Rachel’s abandonment when he’d needed her most, he wanted nothing to do with anything or anyone that made him feel too deeply. Now was not the time to dwell on what he was feeling. He should only be focused on keeping Tara safe.
He felt the touch of her eyes on him and that little thrill of excitement spiked. “Where’d you learn to shoot like that?” he asked, his voice sounding loud to his ears in the quiet of the van.
She turned to him, eyebrows at her hairline and her lips twisted to the side. “Not too shabby, huh?”
“Expert marksman I’d say,” he responded, and she chuckled.
“One of my foster fathers had a thing about guns. He collected them. When other dads took their kids to the movies or to play baseball, Vic took Michael and me to the shooting range.”
“At least he spent time with you.” Tucker thought of his own father who’d left when he was six.
Tara nodded and glanced out the window.
“I didn’t realize you were in foster care,” Tucker said. Tara kept her gaze on the passing scenery. As the seconds ticked on, he began to think it was a sensitive subject, and she wasn’t going to elaborate further.
“My parents died in a car crash when Michael and I were young,” she said in a quiet voice. “We were in the back seat and managed to survive, but they didn’t. I don’t remember it, but Michael does…did…” Her voice trailed off. “Michael always wore Dad’s dog tags after the car crash,” she said, rubbing her thumb over the plastic case. “It helped him feel close to him after he was gone. Now I do the same thing to feel closer to Michael. At least I got to grow up with my brother. Until he and Vic had a major fight and Michael left at sixteen.”
She shifted in her seat, angling toward him as her green eyes glittered with anger. “I was just getting to know him again when they killed him.” Tara clamped her lips together and her chin trembled. “He’d gotten into some things he shouldn’t have, but he was trying to make it right. He had dreams of one day going back to school to become a social worker. He had a real heart for kids who were struggling. He knew what it was like.” Her voice cracked, and she turned her gaze to the endless trees whizzing past them outside the window.
Tucker reached across the seat and grabbed her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “He would be proud of how you’re fighting for him, and for the people like Luca’s sister whose families are suffering at the hands of someone like Platt.”
Tara nodded. Her fingers tightened around his, and she let the silence lengthen. Tucker had more questions he wanted to bombard her with. Was Michael part of Platt’s organization at one time? Was Tara? What kind of information did Michael have on Platt and did Tara know what it was? That would help to explain why she had a target on her back.
Once they got to his cabin and she was able to relax, he’d see if Tara would share more of what she knew with him. Then maybe this feeling of flying blind again in a dangerous situation would ease.
Without warning, images flashed through his mind, always when he was vulnerable and unprepared for them. The cocoon-like enclosure of the Black Hawk helicopter. The blades churning above him, and the vibration of the airborne machine that made him feel like every cell in his body was moving. The sight of smoke rising in the distance where he should be landing to pick up Deacon. The nausea that had coursed through him, intensified by the familiar cockpit smell of fuel and metal. If only he’d been there fifteen minutes earlier. But they’d delayed him…
Tucker shook his head and sucked in a breath, dragging himself with force back to the present. Tara’s hand was warm in his, and he let the feeling of her presence steady him as his heart rate slowed to normal. He glanced at her out of his side vision. She continued to stare out the window, keeping her thoughts to herself. Tucker admitted he was feeling things for her that he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t go any deeper or any further. The feeling of heading into the unknown, unprepared, was like fleas crawling over his skin. He would keep her safe at all costs. But when the US Marshals Service decided on a plan, he would have to let her go without a backward glance.
Seven
Tara wasn’t sure what she had been expecting at the first sight of Tucker’s cabin, but what she was looking at was not it. From the outside it looked tiny. Maybe enough space for a living room and kitchen, but a bedroom was doubtful. It was lifted off the ground by four-foot stilts, and the space underneath looked ripe for housing spiders, snakes and numerous unsavory animals and insects. A sloping grassy expanse behind the house disappeared into the dark greens and browns of the swaying marsh grass. A soft breeze carried the scent of salty, slightly brackish water.
Tucker and Scout approached after having searched the property to make sure everything was secure. A grin split his face. “What do you think?”
“It’s…great,” she murmured, taking a longer look at the house and checking for holes in the bleached wood siding. “Um…there wouldn’t be any critters lurking inside would there?”
Tucker laughed, a rich, deep sound that brought a smile to her face. “There might be, but I doubt it. I thought you were fearless. A little snake isn’t going to scare you, is it?”
“Of course not! But a big one might.” She sneaked another glance at the weathered cabin. “I think I’ll let you go first.”
“Right this way then, m’lady,” he said, leading the way with Scout at his heels. Tara followed him up the wooden plank steps and waited while he unlocked the door. He and Scout stepped into the darkness. After a moment she heard the sound of a lamp being switched on and the clack of shutters pushed to the side of windows.
“All clear,” he announced from inside, and Tara stepped across the threshold. She smiled without thinking and her shoulders sagged in relief. The living area was compact but except for a little dust, the furniture looked clean, as did the kitchen off to the side. A doorway did in fact lead to a small bedroom and bathroom. It was just the basics: sofa, chair, table, rugs on the floor. But something about it was cozy. And she needed cozy right now.
“It’s perfect,” she said, and meant it. Tucker’s blue eyes glowed, and warmth spread through her body making her limbs feel loose. She suddenly felt too tired to stand and plopped on the sofa with a thud.
“I have a buddy who comes here once in a while to go fishing. He helps me keep the place livable and snake free,” Tucker chuckled. “I know you’re tired. Rest your eyes while I bring the groceries in from the car. Scout, stay with Tara,” he instructed, giving her no time to argue as he headed outside. She leaned her head back and threaded her fingers through the thick fur at Scout’s neck. Within seconds she was out.
* * *
Tucker bustled about in the tiny kitchen. It had always felt like a children’s playhouse, with barely enough room to turn in a complete circle. He shoved the knob down on the toaster to heat up the buns, then pulled the burger patties and fries out of the small oven and set them on the stove. Not the best way to reheat hamburgers but it would have to do. He heard a soft movement behind him and turned to see Tara pushing hair out of her face and staring at him.
“Hungry?” he said, grabbing plates from the cabinet. She nodded and walked to the back door, unlocking it and stepping out onto the deck. He followed her, not only for her protection but also, frustratingly enough, because he liked being around her. She stared out at the marsh and he followed her gaze. The sun was beginning to set and the water that wove among the marsh grass was tinged with pink. This view always made the tension drain from his body and had brought him the peace he’d craved after returning from Iraq.
Tara pointed to a bluish gray bird taking off from the grass. “Beautiful!”
“That’s a great blue heron. They’re regulars here.” He gave her arm a gentle touch. “Come on inside. Dinner is ready, and I’m not comfortable with you standing out here in the open, no matter how safe it feels right now.”
“You’re right,” she said, following him inside. “But it’s so peaceful. Looking at that view, I can’t imagine anything more dangerous than a frog or a crab.”
Tucker put a scoop of dry dog food into a bowl for Scout. Grabbing their plates and some forks, he led the way to the sofa. “Sorry, there’s no kitchen table.”
“This is fine,” she said, sitting cross-legged on the sofa and balancing her plate. “Did this place bring you the comfort you needed after Iraq?”
Tucker paused, the burger halfway to his mouth. Had she read his mind a moment ago? He took a bite and chewed, not tasting his food as he thought back to his first days here. The struggle just to get out of bed. “It helped, after a time,” he said, working to keep any emotion out of his voice.
He took another bite, trying to focus on anything other than the weight of her eyes on him and how perceptive she was.
“I’m sorry for whatever it is you went through. Don’t take this the wrong way,” she said, her voice soft and low, “but I’m finding it so hard to believe. I can’t imagine you as anything but how you are now, strong and capable. I’m on the verge of falling apart every ten minutes, and you’re as steady as a rock.”
Tucker felt as if the walls of the small space were closing in even further, and Tara was the only thing in the room. He wanted to tell her what happened in Iraq, unburden himself about Deacon’s death, but the thought terrified him. He’d tried that with Rachel and had his heart sliced to ribbons. Before the awful details could hurtle from his lips, he lashed out at her. “I’m no hero. And I’m certainly not a superhero.”
Tara’s mouth dropped open, and he thrust himself off the sofa and retreated to the kitchen, taking deep breaths and trying to clear his mind of the nightmarish images. He sensed her behind him before he felt the warmth of her hand on his back.
“Whatever is burdening you is eating you up inside. God doesn’t want you to carry that weight alone,” she said.
He turned around to face her, placing his hands on her shoulders. “I should have known. Something was wrong, and I felt it in my gut but I didn’t act on it. Don’t you see?”
“What I see is that you need to forgive yourself,” she said gently.
He let go of her shoulders and brushed past her. “Right. Because God forgives me I should forgive myself? I’ve heard that before.”
Tara rushed after him and scooted in front of him, planting her hands on her hips. If he wasn’t so flustered, he’d have laughed at her fighting stance.
“You may have heard it before, but you haven’t listened to it.” There was warmth in her eyes, honesty, but no pity. He felt the fight drain out of him.
Without thinking he lifted his palm to her cheek, captivated by the softness of her skin. His heart began to thunder out of his chest. He was losing ground and when she moved the tiniest bit closer to him, the floor tilted.
The sudden nudge of Scout’s nose against his leg brought Tucker crashing back to earth, and he jumped back as the dog trotted to the door and stood at attention. Tucker shoved an unsteady hand through his hair and shook his head to clear it. “I’m sorry,” he said, backing up. “Scout needs a bathroom break.”
He opened the door and Scout scurried down the steps. Tucker turned and his eyes locked on hers. They were huge in her face, and she stood as still as a statue. “I’ll be back in a second. I’m just right out here. Do not go anywhere,” he said with a pretend stern expression that morphed into a smile when she rolled her eyes at him.
He stepped out into the twilight and breathed in a lungful of the salt-scented air. He had been about to kiss Tara, and that was wrong. He was here to protect her. His purpose had to be stronger than these feelings she was stirring in him. All these reminders of Deacon and his own failures were weighing him down, causing him to question his judgment.
He thought about what she’d said. That if God could forgive him, he should forgive himself. The trouble was, he’d never even asked God to forgive him. He’d been so mad at God that he’d shut Him out. Now it just felt too late. Best to just let that sleeping dog lie, he thought as he stepped onto the grass and watched Scout move farther out into the front yard.
