Storm Watch (Woodland Creek) (3 page)

Luke eased his foot to the brake pedal, slowing to a crawl. He kept a tight grip on the woman’s arm as he finally pulled to a stop at the edge of the road. “Stop it!” he said sharply.

Storm froze. So, he was going to kill her himself. God, why had she been so foolish? She should have refused to get out of her car. “I’ll fight you!”

Luke reached across her and jerked the door shut. He grabbed both her shoulders in a painless grip and turned her toward him. “What’s wrong with you? I’m not going to hurt you,” he repeated.

“You said Raymond hired you,” she whispered.

Luke nodded. “He was worried about you. This is a deadly storm, Storm. You would have died out here.”

“Let go of me,” she said woodenly. “I have nowhere to go.”

After a long pause, he released her shoulders. “We’re going to my house. It’s just a few miles up the road.”

Storm nodded, wrapping her arms around herself. She’d have more of a chance if she stayed with him for now. She couldn’t get far on foot in a blizzard. But, sooner or later, he would fall asleep and she could take his Jeep.

When they arrived at a small house, she obediently climbed from the vehicle and followed him inside. As woodsy houses went, it was quite nice, but she was too distracted by her fear to take conscious notice the rustic furnishings and modern kitchen.

She was cold. So damn cold. She doubted if she’d ever feel warm again. Involuntarily she shivered, unconcerned if it was fear that caused it or too long in the freezing car.

With a calm she was far from feeling, she let Luke lead her to the second bedroom. “Storm?”

She turned and looked at him, not speaking and she sensed his frustration. What did he expect?
Gee, would you kill me now?
Not likely. She was going to get away one way or another.

“Have you eaten?” When her head shook, he sighed. “I’ll fix some soup and sandwiches after I get the fire going. If you’re tired, you can rest. But first, you need to get into something warm. If you go into the room there,” he said and pointed to the closed door. “You’ll find things you can put on in my drawers.”

Storm nodded, walked into the bedroom and shut the door softly behind her. All she had to do now was play along with him. Hunger was the furthest thing from her mind, but it would give her time to come up with a plan if taking the Jeep didn’t work. 

§§§

Luke knelt by the hearth and started a fire. God, what had he gotten himself involved with? The woman acted as if he was a rapist or worse. It was obvious she was terrified of him.

Sighing again, he set extra logs on the fire grate and walked to the phone. The sooner he got rid of the woman, the better. He lifted the receiver and cursed. No damn dial tone. Great, he thought bitterly. I’m stuck with a crazy woman. He pulled out his cell, but wasn’t at all surprised to see that he had no bars. Rarely was there a signal here. His place was simply too remote an area for the companies to bother with towers.

With nothing else to do now, he went to the kitchen and threw on a pot of soup, then made some ham sandwiches. It wasn’t much, but it would at least be warm and filling. He doubted he’d be able to coax her into eating it anyway.

When the impromptu meal was ready, he went and tapped on the door. “Food’s ready.”

He stood by the door waiting to see if she’d actually come out or not. Hell, if she didn’t, he decided, he’d go in after her. He was saved having to do so, though, when she opened the door.

“Thank you,” she said very politely.

Luke was shaking his head as he followed her into the kitchen. She was a pretty thing, he admitted to himself. Of course, she hadn’t changed out of her clothes. He guessed she would try and leave at the very first opportunity that presented itself.

Too bad she was already attached—and either mentally ill or seriously delusional, if what her boyfriend had told him was any indication. The man had told him that she suffered from severe depression. That he could believe with no difficulty. It would take someone either desperate or with a death wish to be out in weather like this. The blizzard had seemed to worsen by the hour.

That’s what got to him. He could never stand to see someone depressed. Always, he wanted to help. It was in his nature, he supposed. He was a fixer. Was she suicidal? “Eat,” he said gently. “You’re safe.”

She released a harsh, bitter laugh at that. “I’ll never be safe again.”

He raised a brow and sat down the sandwich he’d just picked up without taking a bite. “What are you talking about? You’re out of the storm and safe.”

“You’ve signed my death warrant,” she said flatly, then pushed the plate aside and stood. “I don’t seem to be hungry after all.”

Luke was on his feet and stopped her with a gentle hand on her wrist before she made it to the door. Signed her death warrant? What the heck did that mean? Was she going to go into the room and kill herself?
Shit!
“What’s that mean?” he asked roughly, trying to ignore how his body tightened as he wrapped his fingers around the soft skin of her arm. Now certainly wasn’t the time for unwanted desire—for that matter, he was surprised by his body’s reaction to her.

She whirled on him, furious now. “Raymond Samuels is going to kill me. Have you called him already? Is he on his way?”

Luke frowned. “Kill you? What the hell are you talking about? He paid me to come and find you.”

“Of course he did!” she snapped, yanking her arm free. “He couldn’t risk calling the police and putting out a missing person’s report. He had to hire a private bounty hunter.”

“I’m not a damn bounty hunter,” he grumbled. And he wasn’t. Even if he did work the occasional bounty, he was a private investigator. And, he was damn good at what he did, too! “Let’s go sit down and eat. We can talk later.” He wasn’t ready quite yet to dismiss the information that he’d been given by his client, Raymond Samuels. Samuels was a very well-known man. As far as Luke knew, he wasn’t the least bit shady—let alone a killer like she was trying to say.

“I told you, I‘m not hungry.”

“Tough,” he said succinctly. “I am, and I’m not letting you out of my sight.” Let her get pissed off. He knew that when dealing with depression, anger would override the more destructive emotion.

“Going to tie me to a chair?” she asked, her dark eyes burning with hatred and fear.

Well, she didn’t seem depressed at the moment, thankfully, he mused. “If I have to,” he said very softly. “So don’t force me to. Come and eat. I haven’t called your boyfriend, so you can quit worrying for the moment.”

“He’s not my boyfriend!” she growled. “He’s a cold-blooded killer.”

S
torm watched him with a sense of grim satisfaction. Well, here was little doubt that she definitely had his attention now. Whether or not he believed her was an entirely different matter. The look of shock on his face gave her a small measure of satisfaction, though. It was possible that she wouldn’t be able to convince him not to call Raymond, but at least he’d remember she’d tried to tell him. She lifted her chin, walked back to the table, and sat down.

Luke followed more slowly. “Start at the beginning and explain what you’re talking about,” he ordered.

Storm took a bite of the sandwich just for something to do with her hands. She chewed the bite without tasting it, and then sat the sandwich down with a sigh. “Raymond and I had only been together for a few months. He seemed to be suave and charming.”

“Go on,” he prodded when she didn’t continue.

Well, why not tell him? If he didn’t believe her, she really had nothing to lose. She was tired of being afraid. “Last week, I started to get worried. He started acting differently. The littlest thing would make him angry.”

Luke tone hardened and his body stiffened. As a cop, he’d heard similar words far too many times. In the Navy, it had even been worse. A few tours in Afghanistan had shown him more than he wanted to see. For a long moment, he didn’t speak. “Did he hurt you?”

Storm shrugged. Was that ever an understatement, but she wasn’t looking for sympathy—just safety. “Not really. He slapped me a few times.”

“So that’s why you left?” he asked. It wasn’t at all unheard of for an obsessive man to have their spouses hunted down if they’d dared to leave. Was this what was going on? He needed answers, and each thing he asked convinced him he was heading in the right direction.

She shook her head impatiently. “No, damn it. I told you, he’s a killer. I saw him kill someone.”

“Tell me what happened,” he said carefully.

She knew he didn’t believe her. It was in every line of his face and in those expressive dark blue eyes. “Look, I know you don’t believe me, but last week, he shot and killed a man right in front of me. I ran, got in my car, and started driving. I’ve been running ever since.”

Luke took another bite of the sandwich, and then ate a few spoons of the soup before speaking. “You were damn easy to track,” he said at last.

She paled at that. “How
did
you track me?”

“Credit cards. It’s never a great idea to use credit cards if you’re on the run. Now, you answer me this: Why didn’t you go to the police? What drew you here?”

“He owns them.”

Luke raised a disbelieving brow. Yeah, unfortunately, there were bad cops. But, he knew the majority were honest. “He owns the entire police force?”

Storm tightened her mouth. She was wasting her time. He didn’t believe her and nothing she said could convince him. “Look, just promise me you won’t call him. All I need to do is get my car unstuck and I’ll be out of your hair. This isn’t your problem. I can afford to pay you whatever he was paying.”

“I don’t want your damn money, but I won’t call him tonight,” he allowed. “We can talk more tomorrow. You have to be exhausted. If you look in the dresser, there should be some t-shirts. You can use one to sleep in.”

“I’m not a child to be sent to bed,” she snapped. She’d be damned if she’d admit that she was exhausted.

He chuckled. “No, you’re definitely not a child, darlin’. But hey, if you’d rather entertain me for the night, I’m game.”

Storm’s eyes widened as she looked at him. He couldn’t possibly think that she’d be interested in him or any other man for that matter. She wanted to just quietly get up from the table and walk from the room. Unfortunately, she couldn’t quite manage it. She bolted. She heard his chuckle as she fled from the room.

Luke’s humor was short-lived. He sobered as he cleaned up the dishes. Was it possible that she telling the truth? He’d heard of Raymond Samuels. Hell, everyone knew who he was. The hell of it was, she was right. No one would believe her over him. Not in a hundred years. Now, he had to decide what to do with her. Part of him
did
believe her. That was the rub. As outlandish as her tale was, he didn’t think she was lying. Either she was as delusional as Samuels had alluded, or she was a liar and Oscar-worthy actress.

Or she was telling the truth.

And something had made her head here. Was she another sifter? Or a wizard? Even latent shifters and wizards would sometimes feel drawn here—the ley-lines assured that.

Maybe he could do some quiet investigation. He still had a lot of friends on the force. Off the force for five years, it was entirely possible that the Raymond Samuels he’d heard of had shown his true colors. If that were the case, he had a few buddies that should have a clue. But, he’d need more information. Most men just didn’t own the police, as she’d said, without good cause. There would at least be some kind of conjecture within the department. He trusted the police chief implicitly. He’d trust TJ Rickman with his life. And, as a bonus, Rickman was aware of wizards and shifters—unlike most of the town.

Even to investigate quietly, he needed a hell of a lot more information than she’d provided. Telling him she’d seen him kill a man in cold blood and that he owned the police just wasn’t enough to go on. On the chance that she was telling the truth, he’d have to ask his questions quietly and not tip anyone on possibly Samuel’s payroll.

He was still considering his options an hour later when a scream came from her bedroom. Drawing his gun from his ankle holster, he ran into the room. She was thrashing on the bed, obviously caught up in a nightmare.

Luke walked to her quickly and started talking in a low, soothing voice. “It’s okay, darlin’. Wake up, Storm.” She fought him like a wildcat, still not fully awake. He put his arms around her and tried to soothe her and bring her out of the nightmare gently. He pulled her against his chest, running his hand down her back gently. “Shh,” he crooned. “It’s going to be okay. You’re safe.”