Staying Alive (10 page)

The more she thought about the situation the angrier she became.

Yes, she’d killed Nusair’s son. But he was a terrorist. A killer who had murdered her principal and was about to murder one or more of her students. She was glad he was dead. The world was a better place without him.

If that made her a bad person, then so be it.

No one got in her path as she stormed up the porch steps and to the front door. She didn’t even knock, she just went on inside.

She stopped and stared defiantly at Agent Nance. “Where’s my room?”

Looking startled, the agent glanced at some point beyond Claire’s shoulder—to Krueger probably. Then she said hesitantly, “Upstairs, first door on the right.”

Claire marched up the stairs and went straight to her room.

It faced the back of the property, which was likely the point. There was only one window and, just as last time, there was an adjoining bathroom.

Home sweet home.

She plopped down on the bed and considered her options.

She laughed, a wholly pathetic sound. What options?

She didn’t have a single choice in this ongoing nightmare.

Except one.

A rap on her door proved perfect timing.

She didn’t have to ask who it was, she knew. So she walked over and opened the door.

Krueger. Big surprise.

“We should talk about this.”

“You’re right.” She opened the door wider. “We should talk.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, she moved to the center of the room and waited for him to close the door. Once he settled his attention on her she dropped the bomb, so to speak.

“I want you to find a way to get in touch with Nusair and tell him you’ll trade me for the boy.” She lifted her chin defiantly when his expression hardened for battle. “I want this to end today. We should have done this already the way I wanted to.”

“Don’t you understand that it won’t ever end as long as Nusair is alive?”

Yes, she understood that perfectly but she had no control over the bigger picture.

“This isn’t about political correctness or military strategy. This is about a ten-year-old boy whose life I’m not willing to risk. It’s me that Nusair wants. I killed his son. He wants his revenge. It’s as simple as that. If we give him what he wants, Chad Wade and the rest of the students at Whitesburg Middle will be safe.”

Krueger moved a step closer to her. She saw the smallest of cracks in his cool, calm veneer. “For how long? A day? A week? Maybe a month or a year? Abdul Nusair has terrorist cells in more than a dozen major cities in the U.S. We need to know how to stop whatever he has planned. We can’t do that by throwing away the first connection we’ve had to him.”

She took a step toward him, determined to make him sweat. “So it’s okay if Chad Wade dies as long as we save the masses, is that what you’re saying?”

He flinched. As she’d hoped, Krueger was rattled.

God, how could she toss that at him? How did a mere human measure the loss of one life against the loss of thousands? It simply wasn’t meant to be that
way. She was not emotionally equipped to make that kind of decision. Yet, here she was taking a stand in a situation the full scope of which she could not possibly hope to understand. She was wrong to oversimplify the difficult task facing this man.

Special Agent in Charge Luke Krueger looked weary. Whether his fatigue was physical or mental, she couldn’t say. At that moment she felt the full weight of his station. As horrifying as her position was just now, it didn’t come close to comparing to what he must feel. This had to be his worst nightmare.

“That may be the way it feels,” he agreed, his voice low and placating. “I know. But that’s not the way it is. Every cop this city can spare and two dozen Bureau agents are working to find that child. Nothing we do is going to stop Nusair from carrying out his sick scheme. Even if we turned you over to him, the chances of the boy being freed unharmed are zero to none. Nusair’s MO doesn’t allow for it. He doesn’t leave loose ends or witnesses.” The pain she saw in his eyes leeched into his voice. “He kills everything in his path. What you saw him do in that mall was about torturing you. That’s the only reason you and that child are still alive.”

The more passion infused his words, the closer he came to her until she had to look up in order to maintain eye contact.

“I will do everything in my power to see that the boy is rescued. I promise you that.”

She found herself watching his lips. It was crazy. And yet somehow she needed to feel something besides this stifling fear and overwhelming outrage. She needed to feel anything but that. He stood so close, those green eyes were so intent on her, that she couldn’t help feeling the urgency of his words…the passion in his determination to stop this animal and somehow to protect her and the children. She needed to touch that…to strengthen herself with his determination.

“I will do all I can. You have my word.”

Standing here, desperately needing someone to hold her and make her forget the fear and the outrage, she realized for the first time in her life that she was completely alone. She had no family that claimed her. Sure she had Darlene and her friends at school, but she had no one else. No one who loved her the way a woman should be loved. No one to hold her the way a woman wanted to be held.

No one.

Wouldn’t that be a terrible way to die?

Alone and unloved.

“I need you to hold me, Krueger.” She hadn’t meant to say what she felt out loud. But she needed this too badly to pretend she hadn’t meant the words.

He didn’t hesitate. Those strong arms went around her and pulled her close against his chest. Claire laid her cheek there and closed her eyes.

He smelled good. Vaguely of the starch the drycleaners had used on his shirt and more deeply of a citrus fragrance. His chest felt solid and steady beneath her, something she had needed for a long time. Powerful arms shielded her and she desperately wanted to revel in that awesome strength. The rhythm of his heartbeat soothed her, made all the bad feelings dissipate.

“I’m sorry this happened to you,” he murmured. “I wish I could make it go away.”

The longer he held her, the more relaxed and secure she felt. But it was his words that touched her the deepest. The moment wasn’t overtly sexual, but she couldn’t deny an ache of longing. She’d missed this kind of connection with another human. It was a shame that it had taken such tragedy to bring her to this wondrous place again. The warm, heady feel of a strong male body. The distant, yet urgent pull of desire.

It didn’t matter that she scarcely knew Krueger. The events of the past fourteen or so hours had forged a bond that, hard as she tried to ignore it, had been there almost from the first moment they’d met.

A keen awareness simmering beneath the skin. Why couldn’t they have met under other circum
stances? He was one man she could honestly say would be a challenge to dissect on an intellectual level.

She liked that he was complicated and intriguing.

Was that the need to de-stress speaking? She didn’t usually have an eye for police officers or men in other high-risk occupations when it came to prospective boyfriends. If she faced facts, she would confess that she hadn’t had a boyfriend in ages. Period. She busied herself with the children. With advancing her work skills and supporting the community in various ways such as Habitat for Humanity.

This moment was pure indulgence, pure selfishness.

And she wanted it to go on and on.

She wasn’t the only one feeling the heat. The tension in his muscles had become palpable. His body grew more rigid the longer he held her. When his hands started to move slowly over her back, she knew for certain she wasn’t in this alone.

But he would never make the first move. He wouldn’t go beyond the line that his professional credentials had drawn.

She lifted her face to his, let him see the desperation in her eyes. His lips were so close. She could feel the urgent pull of his need with the same electrical intensity as she did her own. That
tug was every bit as clear in his eyes. He wanted this as much as she did.

He kissed her, just a soft brushing of his lips over hers. She wanted more. Tiptoed to make the contact complete.

The world and all its troubles spun away when he took charge of the kiss. Her hands, flattened on his chest, moved up and around his neck. She wanted to feel her breasts pressed against his chest, her pelvis melded to his. She made it happen.

Still, it wasn’t enough.

Not nearly enough.

She wanted—needed—so much more.

Several staccato raps on the door sent Claire stumbling back from his arms.

It gave her some amount of satisfaction that Krueger looked as dazed as she felt.

He took a moment to compose himself, reached out and gently stroked her cheek with the pad of his thumb, then turned to the door.

Claire didn’t move. Heat still shimmered through her body; her lips still burned from his kiss. She smoothed a hand over her hair and tried to catch her breath. This wasn’t exactly the time to be distracted.

Just something else she had no intention of regretting.

Holman rushed into the room as Krueger opened the door.

“Sir, Miss Grant has a text message from Nusair.”

Krueger took the cell phone from the agent’s hand. He studied the small screen, then showed it to Claire.

“Is it possible that Chad Wade is there?” Claire’s heart started to thunder in her chest. Why the text message? Where were her instructions? Did Nusair assume she would go to her house when she got this message? Was that the reaction he wanted?

Krueger shoved her phone into his jacket pocket and took her arm, his touch gentle yet firm. “Let’s go.”

The drive to her Fremont residence took more than a half hour. The whole way Claire kept trying to block the vision of Chad on her porch with a bomb strapped to his chest. She didn’t want him to be hurt. But if he was there, and most likely he was, he would play some part in Nusair’s sinister game.

She kept glancing up at Krueger. Several times she caught him looking back at her. He was wor
ried. He did a very good job of hiding his emotions, but she could see the concern in his eyes.

Had that one kiss made him as vulnerable as it had her?

Over and over she told herself that it was just a kiss. A physical release of tension that two people had needed. Nothing more.

Except it had felt like more.

Maybe she had imagined those sparks she’d noticed when they first met. She’d fixated on physical details instantly. There had been a little something between them even then. Or maybe it was just she who had felt that shift in chemistry. After all, it had been a really long time since she’d even been attracted to anyone. Keeping to herself ensured a great many things, not the least of which was staying away from heartache.

She was thirty, almost thirty-one. Could she go on with the rest of her life, assuming she survived, avoiding that kind of relationship?

Didn’t she deserve to have someone?

Or was staying single and unloved her self-imposed punishment for killing her sister’s husband?

Now there was a truly twisted possibility.

Claire shook her head at her own self-analysis.

She was a textbook case of neurosis.

The SUV pulled up to the curb in front of Claire’s house.

Thank God poor little Chad wasn’t tethered to her porch rail. She’d imagined the worst-case scenario all the way over here.

She reached to open the door and an explosion rent the air. The vehicle shook and shuddered. Debris flew toward her window as she stared in shock at the unexpected eruption.

“Get down!”

A powerful hand came against the back of her head and shoved her into the floorboard as debris rained down on the SUV like baseball-sized hail. Glass shattered and pelted her back.

When the bombardment stopped, the pressure from the hand lifted allowing her to move once more.

Claire rose up slowly, settled onto the edge of the seat and turned to stare out the shattered window.

Smoke rose from what remained of her house. Nothing but a few rocks and planks.

Several seconds passed before she comprehended what had just taken place.

Her house had blown up.

Nusair had bombed her house.

Terror clutched at her heart.

Where was the boy?

“I
want her out of here!”

Claire shook her head, tried to understand exactly what he was saying. Her hearing was a little off. Krueger was right there. His voice sounded low despite the facial expressions that indicated he was shouting.

The explosion.

She stared at her house.

That was the reason she couldn’t hear very well. The explosion had dulled her hearing the way a camera flash will temporarily blind.

There was absolutely nothing wrong with her
vision, however. Her house was now a pile of smoldering rubble. The kind seen in a war zone.

“The boy.” Fear snarled like an angry beast inside her. “We have to see if Chad was in there! If Nusair brought him here…”

Please, please don’t let him be in there.

Krueger was out of the SUV.

“Take her back—”

“No.” Claire wrenched her door open and slid out. She staggered on wobbly legs. “I’m not going anywhere. This is—was—my home.”

“Nusair’s people could still be close by,” Krueger warned, one hand on her arm, ready to marshal her back into the SUV. The fear in his eyes was palpable…startling.

She twisted free of his hold. “I don’t care. I need to know if that child was here. Stop fighting me on this, Krueger.”

He took a breath. She saw his chest expand and deflate with the harsh force. He surveyed the block, first left, then right. Dawn had sent pink and purple streaks across the sky, highlighting the senseless devastation on the ground.

Lights had come on in the neighboring homes. People were beginning to creep out onto porches to get a look at the trouble. Thankfully the other houses didn’t appear damaged. Smoldering debris had
flown all over, landing here and there in nearby yards.

No matter what he said, she wasn’t leaving.

“Stay right behind me,” Krueger ordered, his expression reflecting the sheer desperation she felt. “Do exactly as I say.”

She nodded.

Sirens in the distance signaled that the fire department and maybe ambulances, definitely the police, were on their way.

How could this be happening in her neighborhood…to her home?

Claire glanced back at the SUV with its shattered windows on the passenger’s side that faced her house. She swallowed at the lump of fear lodged in her throat. They were damned lucky they hadn’t been injured.

Or killed.

Flaming pieces of what had been the interior of her home were tossed around her yard and against the picket fence she’d painted just last month. Broken glass and chunks of furniture had landed in the oddest places, like in the bird fountain and in flowerpots holding her tender pansies.

Krueger kept her close to him, not daring to let go of that connection…his hand clutching hers or his arm around her shoulder. His constant watch and vigil to protect her made her want to turn
into the protection he offered and just let go of the worry…of the pain.

He wouldn’t allow her to get close to what was left of the house, which wasn’t much. The fire trucks arrived and worked quickly to drown the few lingering flames.

She heard someone say that it would be hours before they knew for certain if anyone had been in the house. Hours. Again she said a quick prayer for Chad and his family. Surely Nusair would have wanted to taunt her more than this. Let her see the child trapped or something like that…the way he did at the mall.

Then again, the
not
knowing was almost worse.

Out of the blue she remembered her last face-to-face conversation with Darlene.

Take care of my place for me.

Another wallop of fear crashed in on her.

“I need your phone!” She turned to face Krueger, her fingers fisting in his shirtfront. “Your phone. I need your phone!”

If Darlene wasn’t home…oh, God. What was her cell number? Claire knew it…she had to think!

Krueger seemed to shelter her with those broad shoulders and powerful arms as he passed his cell phone to her. Claire let him, didn’t want to feel this vulnerable, as she stabbed in Darlene’s home
number. She had to start over…more slowly this time.

Claire listened to the ringing on Darlene’s line.

If she were home she should be up and getting ready for school by now. No wait, there wasn’t school today, was there?

Another ring.

More of that fear tightened around her chest.

Please let her be okay.

“Hello.”

Relief flooded Claire, making her sway. “Darlene, you’re home?”

“I was just getting out of the shower. Is everything okay?”

Claire stared at her house. No, nothing was ever going to be okay again. But she couldn’t break down about that. She had to keep it together. “Well, my house just blew up, but other than that, I’m good.” Save for a terrorist for a stalker, she didn’t add. But that was no big deal, right?

“Are you okay? Jesus, Claire, this is horrible. You mean it just blew up? Just now?”

“Yes.” She wanted to say no she wasn’t all right. But her friend didn’t need to hear that. “I’m fine. I just…” What a mess. What would she do, assuming she survived this crazy ordeal?

“I have to go, Darlene.” She wanted to move closer to where a crew wearing fireproof gear and
using special tools was now sifting through the rubble that used to be her house.

“Be careful, Claire,” her friend urged.

“I’ll try.” Claire closed the phone and gave it back to Krueger. Television news vans had arrived and reporters were already shouting questions.

The unmistakable sound of her cell phone rose above the growing commotion around her.

Claire’s gaze collided with Krueger’s.

She’d just spoken to Darlene.

This wouldn’t be Darlene.

Talkington rushed over. “It’s him.” He looked from Krueger to Claire and back. “We’ve identified the number he’s calling from. We just can’t locate it.”

Whoever was monitoring the calls on her phone had passed the information along via the communications link the agents appeared to wear twenty-four hours per day. If Talkington said it was him…he had confirmation. It would be Nusair.

Rising terror nipped at Claire as she realized this call would be about Chad.

Krueger passed her cell phone to her.

Claire took a breath and opened it. “Hello.”

“Too bad about your nice little house, Miss Grant.”

Outrage abruptly elbowed aside the fear. “Where’s Chad?” That was all she wanted from
this lowlife scumbag. She refused to
chat
with him.

“You look so upset, Miss Grant. Is the FBI treating you poorly?”

She stopped…turned all the way around, her gaze scanning the faces in the crowd…the windows of the neighboring houses.

He was here. Watching her. Reveling in the result of his evil deeds.

With nothing more than a few gestures Krueger ordered his men to form a boundary in both directions along the street. He grabbed Claire by the arm and started hauling her toward the closest SUV.

“You shouldn’t be in such a hurry to go, Miss Grant. Don’t you want to see if there is anything left to salvage? Or have you lost everything?”

Claire froze at the SUV’s open door. Nusair had just admitted something significant to her. He’d lost everything. His son had been
everything
to him. He wanted her to feel the same loss.

She wondered what he would say if she told him that she had already lost everything…. She’d lost it all six years ago. But if he didn’t already know about her sister, she wasn’t about to give him any more ammunition. Let him dig for whatever he found out about her.

“It’s me you want, Nusair,” she said, her voice steady and calm for a woman who’d just watched
her home go kaboom. “Let the boy go. I’ll come to you. Name the place. I’m ready right now.”

She wrenched free of Krueger and backed away from the SUV, stood out in the open where Nusair could easily see her.

Krueger reached for her again but she avoided his touch, held up her free hand to back him off. She had to do this.

“Come on, Nusair. Why go through all this risky foreplay? You don’t need these games. Tell me where you are and I’ll come to you. Right now. I’m what you really want. I’m all yours.”

“Get in the vehicle, Claire,” Krueger ordered as he grabbed her arm again.

She yanked free of his grip, arrowed him a warning look.

“Your protector doesn’t agree,” Nusair countered. “And I’m afraid your offer, tempting as it may be, is much too easy for all concerned. Recent developments have given me a second agenda. I’ve waited a long time to get your new friend in this very position. A position that requires a most difficult choice. Perhaps this will be the moment and I will enjoy double the pleasure.”

Her gaze connected with Krueger’s.

“What does that mean, Nusair?” She was tired of his riddles.

“You must go to Port Townsend, Claire Grant.
Look for the ferry named
Olympas
. Wait on the boardwalk for my instructions. You must hurry. You have only forty-five minutes.”

Her dread escalated, overtaking all other emotion.

“Hurry, Claire Grant, or the child will die.”

He severed the connection.

Claire propelled herself into the SUV Krueger had been attempting to prod her into. The windows were still intact in this one and Talkington was already behind the wheel. “Did you get that?” she demanded of Krueger who was climbing into the front passenger’s seat.

He didn’t have to answer her directly. He was busy issuing orders via his communications link and those orders were answer enough. Then he turned to Talkington. “You’re going to have to lose any of the media that attempts to tail us.”

“Will do.”

Claire twisted around in her seat and watched as they drove away. Sure enough, two reporters fell in behind them. The news channel logo on one of the vans she recognized, the other she didn’t.

“We only have forty-five minutes,” Claire reminded. Port Townsend was at least twenty minutes away. And finding the right dock would take time. They didn’t have any time to waste.

No one responded to her reminder. They knew as well as she did what was at stake.

She wrung her hands together and prayed this situation wouldn’t be even worse than the last one. She had to calm down. If she didn’t get a grip, she wouldn’t be able to do what had to be done. Chad Wade was counting on her. She had to do this right for him.

Closing her eyes, she tried to picture the ferry. She was familiar with the area. But for the life of her she couldn’t remember any relevant details. Where exactly was the
Olympas?

She was wasting her energy worrying. Krueger and his men would have all the pertinent details well before they arrived. She knew that about his team. They were extremely efficient. By the time they’d reached the mall last time, Krueger’s people had every single relevant detail. The only thing she needed to do now was brace herself for what was to come.

Nusair’s comment about how long he had wanted to get Krueger in a position to have to make a difficult choice nagged at her. What had he meant by that? Surely Krueger had some idea since he’d heard Nusair’s end of the conversation the same as she had. There really hadn’t been time for him to explain what Nusair meant…or maybe he didn’t intend to discuss with her his private issues related to this terrorist.

She tried to push the topic out of her thoughts, but it wasn’t going anywhere.

When they had given the reporters the slip and were within ten minutes of their destination, Claire decided she should ask Krueger about it. If there was relevant history between Krueger and Nusair, she had a right to know.

“What did Nusair mean when he said he’d waited a long time to get you in this position?”

For several seconds she felt certain he wasn’t going to respond, then he started talking. “Nusair is only attempting to distract you, Claire. You shouldn’t put any stock in his offhanded comments.”

He wouldn’t look at her when he said this and his response had Talkington cutting a sidelong glance in his direction. This only confirmed Claire’s suspicion.

Krueger had just lied to her. Maybe only by omission, but in her book it was a lie just the same.

She couldn’t help but feel disappointment. He’d kissed her, for heaven’s sake. She’d thought they had connected. Surely she hadn’t been that wrong about what she’d felt. Still, he’d just lied to her.

Maybe she’d been wrong about what the kiss meant. About what she’d seen in his eyes. About him.

The port came into view, and again, everyone in the vicinity had been moved far away from the
water where the ferries were docked. A line of Seattle’s finest, as well as a temporary barricade, was in place. It amazed her even now, considering the circumstances that had brought her here, how quickly the authorities could work in a situation like this.

Tension vibrated inside her, reminding her that the gorgeous Olympic and Cascade Mountains in the distance might very well be the last things she ever saw. At least she couldn’t complain about the setting. If a girl had to die, this was as close to heaven as could be found on this earth.

Her gaze swept over the broad, deep Puget Sound and the tiny islands and ragged peninsulas beyond. She’d fallen in love with this place the first time she saw it.

How could anything bad happen at such a beautiful place?

When the SUV stopped she started to get out.

“Wait,” Krueger ordered.

He was listening, she realized. Someone on his team was likely giving him an update via their communications link.

“We can’t go beyond the boardwalk,” he told Talkington, his voice resigned. “Same scenario as the mall. Nusair has a sniper keeping anyone from going past that point.
Dammit
.”

Claire surveyed the boardwalk and the pier be
yond. He had to be using one or more of the boats. Maybe the
Olympas
, her destination. She took a long slow look around. Then again, a sniper as good as Nusair’s could be anywhere within a couple hundred yards.

Half a dozen agents appeared at her door and Krueger gave her the go-ahead to emerge from the vehicle. Once she was rigged for communications she was ready to go.