Surrender the Dark (11 page)

He wasn’t in front either. Nor was he on the upper deck. Frowning, she headed back inside. Maybe she’d been wrong about him being inside.

Her frown turned into a smirk. “Maybe you just
think
you know him well enough to sense his mere presence.” He was probably sleeping.

But a quiet check of his quarters—her room—proved it empty. Then she heard a high-pitched yip and spun around, senses totally alert. The sound repeated and she relaxed.

It was just the wolf pup. Probably viciously attacking another shop rag. The picture that thought created made her smile, and she found herself heading to the garage. She’d check his water, nothing else, she told herself, adding her earlier decision to call the authorities to the list of things she had to talk to Jarrett about.

The yipping sounds continued. Well, maybe one tug-of-war game wouldn’t totally destroy the animal’s natural instincts.

Rae froze in the open doorway to her garage.

Leaning back against the wall, his legs stretched out in front of him, was Jarrett. He was using both hands to hold his end of the rag, and judging from the way his biceps were straining against the sleeves of his white T-shirt, the pup was giving him a run for it.

She watched in silence as the pup growled and snarled, all the while keeping a death grip on his end of the knotted rag. But it wasn’t the pup’s antics that held her rapt attention. It was Jarrett.

He was relaxed. Despite the ongoing battle, there was no tension in him. More than that, he was smiling. Actually, it was barely more than a slight turn of the corners of his mouth, but Lord, if it didn’t take her breath away.

His features were more relaxed than she’d believed possible. He looked a decade younger. Her heart pounded as she wondered what sort of man he’d have been if his life had gone in a different direction. If his life had been full of sunlight and happiness instead of darkness and death.

She tried to still the sudden yearning that thought spawned deep inside her. Yearning for something so impossible was beyond foolish.

Jarrett continued to yank and pull on the rag, then just when the pup crouched into a real tug, he let it loose. The pup went sprawling backward into a heap of fur and oversized feet.

Rae slapped her hand over her mouth to keep the gust of laughter from rushing out, but it was too late.

Jarrett’s head jerked around, his smile gone before
his eyes locked on hers. Her laugh caught in her throat like a hard knot and her eyes suddenly burned. She felt like the worst sort of criminal for stealing that happy moment away from him.

“I’m sorry,” she said with more honesty than he could possibly intuit. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I, uh, I just came out to check on his water.”

“I filled the bowl.”

She glanced over, eyeing the bowl for the first time and nodded. “Yeah, I can see that.”

“You all done?” His gaze was intent, his expression blank.

Silence descended in the ensuing seconds. Even the pup was quiet, watching the two of them with avid interest.

Finally, Rae just nodded, wishing it didn’t have to be like this between them, but not knowing how there could be anything else. Not without it being too much.

Jarrett lifted his cane and, using the wall, pushed himself upright. He gestured with the cane. “After you.”

She turned and headed inside. “You want coffee or anything?”

“No.” He moved slowly past her toward the living room as she ducked into the kitchen.

She didn’t want anything either, but she needed more time. The scene in the garage had really thrown her. She hadn’t known what to expect from him after what had happened out in the shop, but his cold reserve was doubly hard to endure now, after seeing him so relaxed just moments ago.

Knowing she’d procrastinated too long as it was, she
forced a deep breath in and out of her lungs, poured herself some iced tea, and followed him into the living room. It was a huge room, the heavy-beamed walls unadorned except for several woven rugs made by an Appalachian artist she’d discovered on one of her rare trips to a buyer. The ceiling extended all the way up to the peak of the A-frame, and a beautiful oak and brass
Casablanca
fan hung from a thick beam that stretched across the width of the room. The front wall was almost all glass, completely unadorned, and provided a stunning frame for the setting sun as it cast a rainbow of colors over the tree-covered slope of the mountain and across the valley.

The room was furnished with several twig chairs, a deep-set Adirondack chair fronted by an overstuffed hassock, a small rattan couch covered with a thick patch-work quilt and several handmade pillows, and a coffee table made from a heavy oval cross section of mahogany. Rae felt warm and cozy here, protected. A glance out the window hugged that protective feeling with the greater sensation of freedom.

She wrapped that feeling around her now, knowing she’d need all this mountain had given her to stand up to the man she now shared her security with.

“Why don’t you take the chair,” she suggested, pointing to the Adirondack. “You can use the hassock for your leg.”

Jarrett turned to her, irritated by her relentless concern. “I think I can handle my own seating, thank you.”

Though obviously taken aback by his uncalled-for
rudeness, she said nothing. She just shrugged as if to say “Suit yourself,” then plopped down in the middle of the small couch.

Grumbling under his breath, Jarrett took the only other seat that looked remotely comfortable, the one with the hassock. What the hell, he thought, as he tugged the hassock closer and propped up his leg. He’d pushed himself way too far that day and was well past needing some rest. He should be in bed.

Would have been hours ago, but for the thoughts that hounded him. Rae’s crazy belief that he was burned out, that he needed a break. That he needed to heal his soul more than his body. That he might need even a little of the solace she’d found here …

He had no idea how he’d ended up out in the garage with the pup. Remembering the scene she’d stumbled across and her laugh, he felt his neck heat up, and a spot deep inside his belly tightened and burned.

Clearing his throat, he forced away this and every other image that had assaulted him during the interminable afternoon and focused on the deed at hand. Why this was so damn difficult to achieve he refused to analyze.

And yet, even as he opened his mouth to get to it, his attention was caught by the view outside the huge window. He found himself saying what was in his heart instead of what was in his head. “I can’t recall ever being in a place so … restful.”

He heard her quick intake of breath. Instantly feeling foolish, he shifted his gaze to some innocuous point
past his propped-up foot. There were lives at stake here, he viciously reminded himself. Get to it.

He looked over at her, but she cut him off before he could utter a word.

“The two men who are after you have been spotted in town. They’ve been asking questions about you.”

Jarrett thrust himself forward in his chair. “What!”

“Don’t yell at me. They apparently asked around a bit, giving some story about being hunters who thought they might have mistakenly shot another person while out hunting. Being concerned citizens, they were anxious to know if anyone matching your description had come into town looking for medical help. Of course they found out nothing.”

“And this just slipped your mind until now?” he demanded, his voice barely short of a roar.

“No. I meant to tell you when I got back, but I figured you were sleeping and you needed the rest. They can’t track you here—”

“According to you, they shouldn’t have been able to track me to town either.”

Her tight control began to fray. “The trail I laid was a good one, McCullough. It’s taken them four days to come this far. And from what I was able to get without
asking too many questions myself, it seems their choice of this town was somewhat random. Face it, there aren’t that many towns in a fifty-mile radius of here. When the trail I laid turned cold, it only makes sense that they’d start canvassing any developed land in the area.”

“Next time let me be the judge of that.” Jarrett knew Rae was too good to leave any tracks in town, verbal or physical, that would lead them to him. But he also knew these men weren’t run-of-the-mill hit-squad types. His sense of urgency zoomed into sharp focus. This latest turn of events underscored his need to take action, now.

As if Rae sensed the direction of his thoughts, she spoke again before he could. “I’ve got one phone line, a two-way radio, a computer with a modem, and a fax machine. They are at your disposal. Make whatever contacts you need to set the rest of this thing up.” She took a short sip of her tea, then said, “And while you’re at it, send someone up here for you. I think you’re well enough to leave now.”

He only paused briefly to absorb this latest volley. When he spoke, his voice was cold, hard, and pure business. “I’ve sent encoded computer transmissions. Faxes on secured lines. Hell, I’ve sent in three men. Two are dead. I have no idea where the third one is, but I imagine his fate had a lot to do with the ambush on me six days ago, when I was on my way to a supposedly secret meeting with a Bhajul operative.”

“Another operative gone bad, McCullough?” she asked with only the slightest trace of sarcasm. “Maybe you better look into your screening methods a bit more closely.”

Jarrett shut out her jab, knowing he deserved it, but not caring. He had no problem focusing now. He should thank Rae for that. Her edict, on top of her little revelation, had done the same as a bucket of cold water. Cold water he could have used about four hours ago.

“The leak might have come from somewhere else, though,” he said. “I can’t contact JMI. My next move has to be completely solo. And it goes without saying that my cover is blown.”

He rubbed a hand over his face, then raked it through his hair with an impatient jerk. His whole life was spinning out of control like a kaleidoscope gone crazy, and the only person who could unscramble it was the same one causing the problems in the first place. Rae Gannon.

“I know my lines are clear,” she said, after a brief pause. Her tone was wary. “But they may not be secure.”

Jarrett sighed, the sound not nearly as deep as the need that caused it. He looked back out the window, but instead of the soothing display of nature, all he saw were the determined faces of the two men hunting him. And the mirrored reflection of the thousands of people who would die if those men succeeded.

“Why all the hardware?” he asked, intentionally diverting his mind from the disturbing images. “I thought you would cut yourself off completely up here. Wasn’t that the idea?”

She nodded. “At first, I was. But as my work became more popular I had to either find a way to communicate with my buyers or promote my work in person. State-of-the-art
communication gadgetry was my compromise.”

Jarrett didn’t have to ask to know that any compromise, even something as seemingly innocuous as buying a fax machine, had been a huge capitulation for her. It made him realize the magnitude of the compromises she’d made when she’d chosen to bring him there, to care for him.

It shamed him, because that realization wasn’t going to stop him. He was going to do whatever was necessary to get her to make the biggest compromise of all. It was his job, no matter how much he was beginning to despise it. He had no choice.

Better one shattered soul on his conscience than thousands. Although as he looked into the depths of her world-abused eyes, he wondered if his soul might not survive this either. Strange thought for a man who didn’t think he had one to lose.

“I need to contact someone,” he said. “No one will connect him to me, so the security of the lines isn’t paramount. But I need you to send the transmission. I’ll tell you what to say.”

“Then what are we waiting for? The sooner we get in touch with him, the sooner this will be over.”

Jarrett ignored the honest need he heard in her voice. She wanted him gone. He’d never wanted so badly to stay. “The man I’m contacting isn’t an operative. He’s a friend.”

Her eyebrows lifted in surprise. “I wasn’t aware you cultivated any relationships that weren’t job-related.”

He deserved that, but it bothered him nonetheless.
He wondered if she still considered what had happened between them in the shop as “cultivating a contact.”

He looked directly at her. “With few exceptions, I haven’t. I’ve known Zach since I was a kid.”

She smiled. “Even that is a stretch.”

“What, that I made friends as a kid?”

“No, that you were a child at all.” She laughed when he swore under his breath. “I can’t see you delivering papers, or playing ball, or taking Betsy Sue to the prom.”

“Maybe it’s because I never did any of those things.” He nailed her again with his gaze. “Did you?”

Her smile faded. “No.” There was a small silence, then she asked, “How did you get into this line of work, Jarrett?”

His name on her lips was like a punch to the gut. Get back to the business at hand, he told himself. Tell her what Zach’s role is, how it involves her. He answered her as briefly as possible. No way was he spilling the story of his childhood. “I went into the military at eighteen. I was good at covert work, but not too good at taking orders.”

Her smile returned, even wider than before. “Now
that
I can picture.” She sat her mug on the rough-hewn coffee table and tucked her feet under her legs, tailor fashion. “So you got out and just opened up JMI? What, you sent out flyers? ‘Will deliver sensitive information for lots of money’?”

Jarrett almost smiled. “That’s closer than you might think. I did some covert work for the military, delivering exactly that sort of information. But my dislike of their
rules and regulations matched up with their need to occasionally do things outside standard protocol. So I got out and started my own civilian division.”

“Initially funded by government contracts?”

“On paper, no.”

She nodded in understanding. “How old were you then, when you started JMI?”