Murphy's Law (21 page)

Murphy drew in a deep breath as the
truth settled inside him. Yes, this was where Sara belonged. On the ranch,
laughing and free, as she lounged on the back porch sketching the kids playing
and the sunset. This was where she had been the most relaxed and comfortable.
They had all noticed the change, and he couldn’t deny it any longer.

She belonged here with him.

“Yes, I’ll bring her back,” he said.
Forever
.

His mother smiled through her tears.
“I’m proud of you, Jon. You’ve survived more than your share of hardships and
now you have a chance at happiness with a woman who loves you enough to set you
free. She thinks she’s doing the right thing.”

“I know, Mom, she’s got a stubborn
streak that gets in the way sometimes,” he said, remembering when Sara had
refused to stay behind when he went out to look for Abby, and when she’d hopped
up the stairs on one foot. She was generally an easy-going, nice person to be
around, but when her temper spiked she burned hot and fast. He rather enjoyed
it when she got worked up. It put color in her cheeks and made her eyes shine
with life. He was actually looking forward to years of watching her fire up.

His mom pulled away and wiped away her
tears. “Do you know where to look?”

Sara couldn’t have gone far. Damn, he
should have gotten up when he heard her leave her room last night. She had a
six-hour jump on him. But she had no vehicle. He’d given her a spare debit card
to his checking account in case she needed anything. He would start there.
Paper trail would lead him right to her.

It would also lead Stephen Benchley to
her.

“Jon?”

Murphy handed her the sketchpad. “I’ll
call Gabe. We’ll find her.”

“Yes, good idea. Please, find her before
they do.”

“I will. Tell Paul and James to hold
things down while I’m gone?”

“Of course.”

Murphy let her go and strode down the
hall to his room, his mother on his heels. He threw a bag together while he
dialed Gabe’s number. If necessary, he would make use of Gabe’s black ops
organization to find Sara. Whatever it took.

After a brief conversation, he hung up
the phone and turned to his mother, who was doing her best not to look worried.

“I’m meeting Gabe at the bank,” he said.

“It’s Saturday.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll find her.”

He started to move past her, but she
stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Bring her home,” she said quietly.

Leaning down, Murphy planted a kiss on
her cheek, seeing fresh tears form in her eyes. “I promise,” he said and strode
down the hall and out of the house. He would bring Sara home if it was the last
thing he did.

Murphy always kept his promises.

* * * *

Gabe was waiting in front of the bank
when Murphy pulled up. The parking lot was empty, given the weekend. Climbing
out of his SUV, Murphy surveyed the closed bank. Gabe walked over, squinting
into the sunlight.

“We can call the bank manager and waste
time waiting for him to come in, or I can make a call to ATCOM HQ and have Rogan
St. Klare hack the system and get the answers you’re looking for in a matter of
minutes,” Gabe said.

If he hadn’t locked himself away from
the world and set up online banking he’d be able to track Sara himself. Dammit.
Murphy studied his longtime friend. This was the first Gabe had mentioned the
name of the organization he worked for. The offer humbled him, reminding him
how long he’d been without family and friends. Without life.

“Do it.” With a nod Gabe pulled out his
cell phone and thumbed in a number. He spoke to a man he called Adonis, a grin
splitting his face after he asked for a favor. Murphy remembered the bond
between brothers-in-arms and missed it for the first time since he’d retired.
He’d thought himself finished with that lifestyle, but being around Gabe made
him want some of it back. Nothing compared to knowing your comrades had your
back.

Gabe disconnected the call and turned to
him. “St. Klare is on it. Shouldn’t take--” His phone rang and he glanced at
the caller ID. “A minute,” he said. “Damn, he really is good.”

Murphy waited, listening, as Gabe nodded
and received information, then hung up. “She hasn’t used the card yet. Think
maybe she’s still in town?”

“No. She’s running. She won’t stay in
one place long.”

“Six hours is a good head start.” Gabe
pinned him with a thoughtful stare. “I can make another call and have a handful
of agents here within the hour, Murphy. The more resources we have, the better
the odds of finding Sara before they do.”

There was a chance Stephen Benchley had
followed Sara out of town or even had her now. Murphy’s gut clenched. Gabe was
right. He needed resources. He needed help. And he knew what his friend
offered. Access to ATCOM’s resources. He wasn’t sure what exactly that
entailed, but it was more than he had or could get. He’d be a fool to turn it
down, with Sara’s life on the line.

“Thanks,” Murphy said.

Gabe’s expression told him he’d made the
right choice as he made another call. This one would possibly save Sara’s life,
and Abby’s.

* * * *

Sara shuddered and looked around the
motel room, clutching Abby a little tighter to her chest. She slept on her
shoulder, exhausted from crying. Leaving Murphy’s ranch had been an ordeal. She
hadn’t expected Abby to fight her like she did. Abby had never thrown a tantrum
in her life and this one had been a doozy. It caught Sara so unexpectedly she’d
had to hold her in her lap in the cab, pinning Abby’s arms to her sides and
fighting her own tears. She understood her daughter’s pain and fear. She didn’t
want to leave any more than Abby did. But they had to. Before Stephen destroyed
Murphy’s family. She loved them too much to let that happen.

She’d known Abby had become attached to
Murphy and his family, but she hadn’t known how much she loved them. Blinking
back tears, Sara rubbed her daughter’s back, comforting her in sleep where she
wouldn’t let her in the cab. This was the first time Abby had ever expressed
angry feelings. She blamed Sara for taking her away from the ranch. It tore
Sara’s heart in two.

Weary, Sara dropped her bag on the floor
and carried Abby to the single bed. Gently, she laid her down, biting her lip
when she saw the tear stains on her cheeks. She had cried herself to sleep.
Another first.

After slipping off Abby’s shoes, she
pulled the covers up to her chin and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Then went
to the door and double-checked the locks, deja vu settling like a fist around
her heart.

Exhausted, Sara dropped into one of the
chairs in front of the window. The curtains were closed so no one could see
inside. Loneliness settled over her, wrapping her in her misery. She’d spent
most of her life alone, but this time was different. Abby wasn’t the only one
missing Murphy and his family.

Resting her head atop her folded hands
on the scarred table, Sara stared at her daughter, sleeping soundly. She was
doing the right thing. As much as it hurt, she knew it. Protecting Murphy’s
family from her past couldn’t be wrong. Maybe someday Abby would forgive her.

A tear slipped out of the corner of her
eye. Her daughter lived on the run, living in fear. She would need to start
school this fall. She had no security, no foundation to build from.

Sara blinked back tears, drinking in
Abby’s baby-soft hair and long, dark lashes resting on her pale cheeks.

This was no life for her.

Lifting her head, tears gone, Sara
looked around. What was she going to do? Spend the rest of her life running?
Never make a stand for anything? Continue to let others dictate her life?

“No,” she whispered. An unfamiliar calm
settled over her. Murphy’s family stood tall even after tragedy struck. They
didn’t run or bow to the enemy. Nothing bested them. With courage, they stared
opposition in the face and went to battle with it.

They’d taught her to face her fears
instead of running from them. Why had she not seen it until now? She was making
the same mistakes she always made. Never standing for anything in her life. For
herself. For anyone. Kent had bulldozed her into putting her mother into a home
she hated. His family had molded her like a piece of clay into the person they
wanted her to be.

She’d let them chase her down the rabbit
hole.

Her gaze dropped to the doll clutched to
Abby’s chest, its head tucked beneath her chin. The only gift Kent had ever
given his daughter from the heart, and not his secretary. She’d thought it
incredibly sweet when Kent brought it home, been surprised he would do such a
touching thing. Her former husband had managed to surprise her on occasion.
Mostly, when he was depressed or upset. He didn’t show it often, but when he
did he would hold her and talk endlessly about things she knew she wasn’t
supposed to know. Family business was exactly that and didn’t include her.

Kent must have told her those things to
strike out at the chains the family bonded him in, so she’d listened quietly
until he passed out drunk. She hadn’t seen it then, but it was clear as a bell now.
Her husband had been suffering. The things he’d done were a cry for help, not
tantrums to taunt the family.

Why hadn’t she seen it then? When Kent
told her those things it wasn’t out of spite, it was out of desperation. He’d
wanted her to help him. And she’d done nothing. Writing him off as a petulant
child.

“Oh, Kent,” she said quietly. “I failed
you too.”

Too many mistakes. Too many regrets. It
was time for change.

She owed it to herself and her daughter
to finally, for once in her life, do the right thing. And she knew exactly what
she had to do. If she were ever to be free, she would have to make a stand.

And it started here.

* * * *

Murphy was out of patience. An hour had
gone by and still he waited for Gabe’s team to arrive. Every second that passed
was a second further from Sara and Abby. Sitting idle was driving him insane.

They had chosen to meet at Gabe’s
parents’ ranch. The open field on the back property would accommodate ATCOM’s
helicopter, so it could land without anyone being the wiser. He opened his
mouth to tell Gabe he was leaving, but the
whop-whop
of chopper blades
stopped him.

“About time,” he muttered, climbing out
of his SUV. The sleek, black helicopter approached and touched down with the
finesse of a skilled pilot. As it shut down, three people hopped out of the
back.

Beside him Gabe muttered something
beneath his breath Murphy couldn’t understand. He watched the three stride
toward them, taking in each individually as they approached. The front man
commanded attention, leaving no doubt he was team leader of this mission. The
man flanking him stood barely six foot with a deep tan, sun-washed, shaggy dark
brown hair.

Murphy frowned at the man’s clothes. Red
Hawaiian shirt with giant white hibiscus flowers? Boggled, he turned his attention
to the third agent. Only, it wasn’t a man staring back at him. A woman with
cat-like emerald eyes and a long, straight, deep red ponytail swaying across
her shoulders returned his gaze with a bold, almost militant one of her own.

Not what he’d expected of Gabe’s team.
As long as they did their job, he couldn’t care less what they looked like or
if there was a woman on the team. He’d served with women, just not in Special
Forces.

“Gabe,” the leader said as he came to a
stop in front of them. “Got here as soon as we could.”

Gabe nodded, turning to Murphy. “Jon
Murphy, Lieutenant Noah Kincaid. Rogan St. Klare, techno geek, and Attie
Devayne.”

Murphy shook hands with each in turn,
noticing Attie got no label. When he shook her hand she said, “Attie Devayne,
rookie,” before throwing a glance at Gabe.

Gabe put up a hand in defense. “I wasn’t
going to be the one to say it,” he said.

“Don’t let her jab you, MacKenzie,” a
fourth man--the pilot--said, striding toward them with the devil’s grin. “My
sister’s just sore she didn’t get to go overseas.”

Attie sent the pilot a glare that would
have reduced most to ash, but his grin widened in response. He stuck out a hand
to Murphy. “Brendan Devayne, best pilot in the world, at your service.”

Taken by surprise, Murphy shook his
hand. Brother and sister? They had the same emerald green eyes but the
similarities ended there. This man had a bit of the devil in him and Attie was
wound tight as a top.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Brendan
continued. “And you’re right. Brother and sister working together? Bad idea.
But, I give you my word we keep it strictly business when in the field.”

Murphy had his doubts. He would never be
able to stick to business if one of his sisters were involved in this kind of
work.

“Your account hasn’t been hit yet,”
Rogan said. “Did she have cash on hand?”

Murphy nodded. “Not much. Maybe five
hundred dollars.”

“In a cab, that won’t get her far. Any
idea what direction she’ll head?”