Mountain Heiress: Mountain Midwife (29 page)

The whole altercation took less than a minute.

“Here’s the deal,” Cole said. “I want your vehicle.”

“Why?”

Cole released him. “You have to stay here and deal with poor old Frank. And I have someplace to go.”

“I’m urging you to turn yourself in. I can’t call off the manhunt. Every cop in the state is looking for you, and they are authorized to use force.”

“I’m not walking away from this assignment until it’s done,” Cole said. “Now it’s time for you to trust me.”

When Prescott leaned down to pick his parka off the floor, he reached for his ankle holster.

Anticipating the move, Cole already had the gun he’d slipped from Prescott’s holster pointed in his face.
Checkmate.

Chapter Sixteen

Fat snowflakes splatted against the windshield of Prescott’s four-wheel-drive SUV. A nice vehicle for driving in the snow; Cole understood why Prescott was willing to fight instead of handing over the keys.

As soon as they got into the car, he’d searched the glove box and found nothing but a neat packet containing registration and proof of insurance. Prescott was a careful man. A career agent. He hadn’t given up any information, except the part about him being a liaison and knowing people in the area. Somehow that had to be useful.

Though this storm was nowhere near as violent as the blizzard, Cole hated driving through it. He gripped the steering wheel with both hands, willing the tires not to slip on the snow-packed road leading away from Grand Lake. On the plus side, the bad weather was keeping cars off the road. If anybody followed them, the taillights would be easy to spot.

Rachel held his cell phone but hadn’t yet dialed. “I don’t want to drag Jim Loughlin into this mess. Cole, it’s getting worse and worse. You assaulted a federal officer.”

“I
am
a federal officer,” he said. “A damn better one than Prescott. And we need your friend to help us.”

“Why?”

“I’m pretty sure this nice SUV has GPS. Prescott can track our location.”

His plan was to drop off Prescott’s car at the house where they were attacked. Like it or not, the feds and the cops would be forced to look at that house and to realize the murders had been committed there. Even a rudimentary crime-scene analysis would show evidence of a major assault. Their investigation would take a different direction—leading
away
from them.

Unfortunately, when the cops checked the property records, they’d see the connection between Xavier Romero and Baron. If Cole wanted to get information from Romero, he needed to contact him before Prescott and his men closed in.

Rachel asked, “What do you want Loughlin to do?”

“Ask him to meet us at the house. He’s already been there so he knows the location. I want him to give us a lift.”

“Where to?”

“How much he wants to be involved is up to him. Make the call, Rachel. The alternative is another hike through the snow.” He dared to take his eyes off the road for an instant to glance at her. “You don’t want that, do you?”

As she made the call, he followed the route that he vaguely remembered from the first time the gang went to the house where three of them had died. Navigating in the mountains on these twisting roads that were half-hidden by snow took 90 percent of his concentration. With the other 10 percent, he figured out what they should do next.

Initially, he’d thought they would find Penny’s friend, Jenna Cambridge, in Granby and pick up the bundles of cash to use as evidence. Now, it was more imperative to hightail it over to Black Hawk to see Xavier Romero. In the past, the old snitch had helped Cole out with information. Romero might be able to cut through the crap and give him Baron’s name.

It was becoming obvious that the only way Cole would end this assignment successfully was to apprehend Baron by himself and turn him over to the cops.

“Okay,” Rachel said, “Loughlin will meet us at the house.”

“Good.” He made a left turn. Was this the route? He wished like hell that he was driving on a clean, paved, well-marked California freeway.

“What’s going to happen next?”

“I’m going to have a talk with Xavier Romero.”

“In Black Hawk? You can’t ask Loughlin to drive all the way to Black Hawk.”

“I’m hoping he’ll loan us his car.”

“That’s a lot to ask,” she said. “He could be charged with aiding and abetting fugitives.”

“If we were criminals, he’d be in trouble. But we’re not. Remember? We’re the good guys.”

“I’m an upstanding citizen, but I’m not so sure about you.”

That wasn’t the way she’d felt when they were lying in each other’s arms. She’d snuggled intimately beside him. They were one. Not anymore.

In the real world—the one where she lived in snow-ridden Colorado and he resided in sunny California—he and Rachel were very different people. He lived by deception, and she couldn’t tell a lie to save her life. He was no stranger to violence; she was a healer. Different.

And yet, there was a level where they matched perfectly. He didn’t quite understand the connection. In a way, she filled in the places where he was lacking. And vice versa.

She gave him a solid grounding. He gave her...excitement. She’d never admit it, but he’d seen the fire in her eyes. Every time they’d been at risk, she had risen to the challenge. He wanted her with him, didn’t trust her safety to anyone else, not even Loughlin. But he couldn’t ask her to continue on this dangerous path. He needed to do what was right for her.

When he recognized a road sign, he almost cheered. They were headed in the right direction. “This might be a good time for you to take shelter. When I go to Black Hawk, you could stay with the Loughlins.”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“I’m trying to keep you safe. Think about it.”

Their tire tracks blazed the first trail through the new snow piling up on the road. He would have worried about being followed if that hadn’t been his intention; he wanted the cops to come to this house.

“I’m thinking,” she said. “If I stay with the Loughlins, I’m putting them in danger. Those guys who attacked the house are still out there.”

“The odds are in your favor. Nobody has reason to suspect you’d be with a deputy sheriff.”

“But if they guess...” She exhaled a sigh. “This isn’t about being safe and smart. Here’s the truth. I want to come with you.”

He didn’t understand, but he liked her decision. “Because?”

“Are you going to make me say it?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“I care about you, Cole. I can’t imagine being apart from you, sitting around and worrying. Too much of my life has been wasted with sensible decisions. I’m going to follow my heart and stick with you.”

He couldn’t remember another time when he’d been a heartfelt choice. “I care about you, too.”

“Besides,” she said, “I can help. You need a partner.”

“I’ve always worked alone.”

“Things change.”

He made the last turn into the driveway outside the house, put the car in Park but left the engine running. He turned toward her. In the dim illumination from the dashboard, he saw her smile. “Clearly, you’ve lost your mind.”

“Clearly.”

He unfastened her seat belt and pulled her toward him. “I’m so damn glad.”

* * *

W
HEN
J
IM
L
OUGHLIN
pulled up in his four-wheel-drive Jeep, Rachel made a quick introduction. Cole sat in the passenger seat, and she got into the back. During their time on the run, she’d grown accustomed to the way they looked. Their clothes were filthy, bloodstained and torn from catching on branches. Cole’s stubble was turning into a full beard. They might as well have the word
fugitive
branded across their foreheads.

Loughlin glanced over his shoulder at her and shook his head. “Hard to believe you’re the same woman who helped my sweet Caitlyn into this world.”

A lot had changed since then. “How’s she doing? Is Sarah okay?”

“They’re both great, especially since my mom went home.” He put the Jeep in gear and pulled away from the house where the killing had taken place.

Cole said, “I appreciate your help.”

“I’d do just about anything for Rachel.” He expertly swung onto the road. “She seems to like you. That makes you okay in my book. But I’m hoping you’ve decided to turn yourselves in and end this.”

“I’d like to pack it in,” Cole said, “but we’re still not safe. There’s a traitor in the FBI network. He’s working with Baron, and he’s not going to let us live. We know too much.”

From the backseat, Rachel said, “We need a favor. You don’t have to say yes. I’m only asking.”

Loughlin drove for a long minute in silence while he considered. She knew this was a hard decision for him. On one hand was his duty as a deputy. On the other was his innate sense of what was right and wrong. Did he believe in her enough to go along with them?

In his deep rumbling voice, Loughlin said, “Name it.”

“We need to get to Black Hawk,” she said. “We have to talk to a man who—”

“Don’t tell me why. I don’t want to know.” He held up his hand to forestall further conversation. “I can’t take you there on account of I need to stay with Sarah and the baby. But you can use my car.”

“There’s one more thing,” Cole said. “We need clothes.”

“You’re right about that,” Loughlin said. “When we get to my house, I’ll pull into the garage. You stay here in the car, and I’ll bring some stuff down to you. I haven’t told Sarah about any of this, and I don’t intend to.”

“Thanks,” Cole said. “I’d be happy to pay you.”

“Don’t want your money,” he grumbled. “Use it to make a donation to Rachel’s clinic.”

She unhooked her seat belt, leaned forward and gave Loughlin a kiss on the cheek. “You’re a good guy.”

“Or a crazy one.”

She grinned. “There seems to be a lot of that going around.”

Settling back into her seat, Rachel realized that she was feeling positive. Crazy? Oh, yeah. Ever since Cole kidnapped her, she’d been caught up in a sort of madness—an emotional tempest that plunged to the depth of terror and then soared. Their passion was unlike anything she’d ever experienced. She wanted to be with him forever, to follow him to the ends of the earth, in spite of the peril.
The very real peril.
She couldn’t let herself forget that they were still the subjects of a manhunt, not to mention being sought by Baron’s murderous thugs. And they were on their way to chat with a snitch.

None of the other bad boys she’d dated came close to Cole when it came to danger. Why was she grinning?

She only halfway listened to the conversation from the two men in the front of the Jeep. Cole was telling Loughlin about Prescott’s role as an FBI liaison.

“He claimed,” Cole said, “that he’d met a lot of people in Grand County.”

“I recall that some years back there was an FBI agent who talked at a couple of town councils when we had a problem with militia groups setting up camp in the back country.”

“Can you think of any other connections he might have?”

“Maybe church meetings. Or Boy Scouts. The idea is to give folks a face—a real live person they can call at the FBI. We do the same thing at the sheriff’s department. Right now, we’ve got a program to get teenagers off their damn cell phones when they’re driving.”

Rachel had a brain flash. “The high school.”

“What’s that?” Cole asked.

“Prescott could have given an informational talk at the high school. I do those programs all the time. The teachers love it when I show up. It gives them a free period.”

If Prescott had come to Granby High School when Penny was a student there, he could have met her. Through Penny, he might have linked up with Baron.

In deference to Loughlin’s wishes not to know any more about what they were doing than absolutely necessary, she said nothing more, but her mind kept turning.

As soon as they were parked in Loughlin’s two-car garage and she was alone with Cole, she said, “What if Prescott met Penny at the high school? Then she introduced him to Baron.”

“Interesting theory. But I don’t think Penny was a teenage criminal mastermind.”

“From what she told me and what her mother said, she was wild. The kind of kid who gets into trouble.”

Instead of pursuing her line of thinking, he grinned. “They say it takes one to know one. Were you a wild child?”

“I had my share of adventures,” she admitted. “And really bad luck with the guys I dated.”

“Bad boys. Like me.”

He left the passenger seat and came around to open her door. In the glare from the overhead light, she realized how truly ratty and beat up his clothes were. In spite of the grime and the scruffy beard, she liked the way he looked. One hundred percent masculine.

She slid off the seat and into his arms. Looking up at him, she said, “You’re not a bad boy. Dangerous? Yes. But not bad.”

His long, slow kiss sent a heat wave through her veins. Definitely not bad.

Before their kiss progressed into something inappropriate, Loughlin returned to the garage with fresh clothing. He set the pile of coats, shoes and clothing on his cluttered workbench against the back wall and turned to Rachel. “Could I talk to you in private?”

She went with him through the garage door into a back hallway. “What is it?”

He took both her hands in his and leaned down to peer into her eyes. In a low whisper, he asked, “Is this really what you want? To go with Cole?”

“Yes.”

“Rachel, you could get hurt.”

“It’s worth the risk.
Cole
is worth it.”

“You just met this man a couple of days ago,” Loughlin said. “You’ve only known him for a matter of hours.”

But she wanted to believe that Cole was the man she’d been looking for all her life. She’d gone through a string of losers—so many that she’d almost given up on men altogether. If she didn’t take this chance, she’d regret it. “I’m sure.”

He pulled her into a bear hug. “I trust your instincts, girl. Try to be careful.”

“I will.” His concern touched her. He and Sarah and their baby were like family to her. “Your friendship means a lot.”

“Just don’t wreck my car. Okay?”

She returned to the garage to find Cole dressed in fresh jeans and a cream-colored turtleneck. Though Loughlin was heavier than Cole, they were the same height. The new outfit was a decent fit.

“A major improvement,” she said. “Except for the scruffy beard.”

“I thought you liked the rugged mountain-man thing.”

“But you’re not a mountain man. You’re a clean-shaven dude from California.”

“Apparently, your friend thinks so, too.” He held up an electric razor. “I’m not sure if I should shave. The cops have probably circulated ID photos of me. I don’t want to be recognized. On the other hand, a beard could attract closer scrutiny. It’s an obvious disguise.”

She hadn’t considered photos. “Will they have a picture of me?”