The Prime Objective. Ginna Gray
you going to turn on the headlights?”
“Not yet.”
“But…we saw those men drive away.”
“We saw someone drive away. There could have been only one of them in that car. The other one could have stayed behind, hoping you’d think they’d both gone and return to the house. That’s what I would’ve done.”
“Oh.” So much for feeling safe.
Perched on the edge of the seat, Kate gripped the dashboard with both hands and leaned forward, squinting to see through the darkness. The roads that crisscrossed the farm were nothing more than worn, one lane tracks, created by years of driving trucks and farm equipment from one pasture to another. The swath of woods through which they were driving angled across the property from the northeast to the southwest. Trees and forest undergrowth grew right to the edge of the path, in some places so close that low hanging branches scraped the top and sides of the SUV.
“You’re going to hit a tree in the dark,” she cautioned, wincing at a long screech of wood on metal.
“Stop worrying. I have excellent night vision. It’s a requirement in my line of work.”
Yes, Kate thought. It would be for someone who spent a good part of his life prowling the dark alleyways of the world. As always when she allowed herself to consider that part of Jack’s life, an aching knot lodged in her chest.
No. She wouldn’t think about that. Deliberately pushing the image aside, she returned her gaze to the black void beyond the windshield and her attention back to her more pressing problem.
“Back there, how did you know those men hadn’t left?”
“I didn’t. It’s just safer to be prepared for the worst.”
“And that’s the way you want to live your life? Always expecting the worst?” The questions were no sooner voiced than she gritted her teeth. Dammit. You’re doing it again.
“It’s not a matter of want. It’s a matter of necessity. And the operative word is live. Which I’m still doing. So being prepared for the worst must work.”
Kate pressed her lips together and kept silent for the remainder of the drive through the woods.
At the far edge of the forest the track opened onto the dirt road that ran in front of the farmhouse and bisected the property—only this gate was around a curve from the main entrance.
Jack brought the SUV to a stop within the shadows of the trees. Reaching behind the seat, he removed a pair of binoculars from his knapsack and scanned the road in both directions.
“It’s so dark. There’s not even a moon out tonight. How can you see anything through those?”
“They’re night-vision binoculars. I can see everything.” He took his time, examining every inch of the road, every bush, tree and shadow. “It looks clear,” he finally announced and returned the binoculars to the knapsack.
They bumped over the cattle-guard and out onto the road. After a mile or so the dirt lane ended at a paved county road, and Jack turned left. Contrary to Kate’s expectation, he waited until they’d crested a hill and started down the other side before turning on the headlights.
Relaxing her grip on the dash, she sighed and scooted back in the seat, grateful that they would not end up in a bar-ditch or wrapped around a telephone pole. Her relief vanished, however, when she caught Jack checking the rearview mirror every few seconds.
“Are they following?” she asked, checking the passenger side mirror for herself.
“Doesn’t look like it. The road’s empty in both directions.”
“Thank God.”
“Okay, now that the excitement is over, why don’t you finish telling me what’s going on,” he suggested as calmly as though they were discussing the weather.
Kate gritted her teeth. For Pete’s sake. They’d just run for their lives from vicious killers. You’d think the man would at least be a tiny bit agitated. It wasn’t healthy to always be so in control of your emotions.
“As I told you, I have no idea,” she replied with a tad more bite than she’d intended. “Honestly. I don’t,” she insisted when he shot her a skeptical glance. “I was going through my mail when I got a call from my sister and all hell broke loose.”
“Okay, let’s start with that. Tell me, word-for-word if you can, exactly what Colleen said to you.”
“All right. I’ll try.
“It all started Saturday evening around six-thirty. I had been in Dallas all week meeting with buyers for Neiman Marcus and other stores, showing some new designs. I had just gotten home and was sorting through the mail when my cell phone rang. Before I could finish saying hello Colleen started shrieking at me…”
“Kate! Where are you?”
“I’m at home.”
Colleen groaned. Then the words came tumbling out of her, frantic and intense, breathless. “Listen to me, Kate. You have to get out of there right now. They’re on their way over there to kill you!”
“What? Who’s on their way over? What are you talking about?”
“There’s no time to explain. Just go! Go! Get out of the condo!”
“Colleen, for heaven’s sake, will you calm down and tell me what’s going on?”
“Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God,” her sister chanted.
In the background Kate heard the dull rumble of vehicles and horns and other traffic noise, and her unease grew. Colleen was not the most competent of drivers at the best of times. Behind the wheel of a car in her current state she would be a danger to herself and everyone else on the road.
“Colleen. Colleen! Stop that! Snap out of it and talk to me!”
After a couple of hitching breaths her sister continued in a panicked voice, “S-some men came into the store a few minutes ago at closing time looking for us. For you and me. I was in the office when I heard the commotion. I peeked out to see what was going on. Oh, Kate,” she sobbed piteously. “They—they were beating Bobby.”
“What! Who was beating Bobby?”
“I don’t know! I’d nev-never seen them before. But no matter how hard they hit him, Bobby wouldn’t tell them where to find us. So they…they…oh, God, Kate, they shot him!” The last came out on a rising wail of anguish and fear that made the hairs on the back of Kate’s neck stand on end.
“You saw someone shoot Bobby? Oh, my God! Is he…?” Kate bit her lower lip, afraid to finish the question.
“He’s dead,” her sister cried. “When I sneaked out through the connecting door to your studio he was lying facedown in a pool of blood. And we’re next! I heard the one in charge tell the others to go to your condo and take care of us.”
“Oh, my word!” Kate gripped the phone tighter, real fear beginning to ripple through her.
“They’re going to kill us!” Colleen cried, on the verge of hysteria. “Just like they killed Bobby. Now will you please get out of there?”
“Why don’t you just call the police?”
“No!” she screeched. “We can’t do that! I heard them brag to Bobby that their boss has policemen and FBI agents on his payroll who would take care of us themselves if we showed up at either agency.”
“But—”
“No! Don’t you understand? There’s no one we can trust!” With every word Colleen’s tone increased in volume and shrillness, in direct proportion to her growing fear. “I want you to promise me that you won’t contact the