The Bounty Hunter's Forbidden Desire. Jean Pichon Thomas
The more Haley thought about it, the more she was convinced there was something wrong about this whole thing. She knew she wasn’t guilty of any wrongdoing. Then why was she being made to go to Seattle, of all places?
An error of some kind. Had to be. So why not just go on to Seattle and straighten it all out? Why this resolve to give Chase McKinley the slip? It wasn’t because she was no longer afraid of him. And that was another puzzle. She should be terrified in a car with a strange man on the way to another state. Why wasn’t she more than just worried about being with him? She couldn’t figure that out, either.
Haley had only one certainty about this man. It would be a mistake to underestimate him. He wasn’t going to stand by and let her just walk away from him. He would take measures to prevent that. Did he have a gun? she wondered. He probably did and would use it if it became necessary.
Well, maybe he wouldn’t need a gun. Not with a woman. For a man of his size and strength, there were other easier ways to stop a woman from running.
Better not think about those, Haley, she instructed herself. They would just bring up unpleasant images. Things like physical overpowering. He didn’t seem violent or dangerous. Just determined to control his...what did he call them? FTAs. A polite term for fugitives.
Anyway, it didn’t pay to speculate about what might happen. All she could do was be ready to act whenever the chance to escape came her way.
That such an opportunity could actually occur was not very likely. Haley knew that, but she refused to surrender the possibility. Meanwhile, she kept as much space between her captor and her as the seats permitted, speaking to him only when he addressed her. She tried not to fret as the SUV ate up the miles, putting Portland farther behind her with every one of those dismal miles.
It was difficult, though, not to worry. She had a life, job commitments, friends who would wonder about her. What would they think, do when they couldn’t reach her? She would have to contact them somehow when she got the chance. Probably through her lawyer. Hadn’t Bounty Hunter here said she was entitled to a phone call when she was booked? After which she’d be slapped behind bars. Maddening, all of it. And for something she didn’t do—whatever it was.
Minutes later, Haley was shaken out of her reverie by his grumbled curse of displeasure. “Damn it all to hell, wouldn’t you just know it?”
This was the first time in over an hour he’d spoken to her. Only he hadn’t, really. His curse was directed elsewhere.
“What? What’s happened?”
He didn’t answer her. He didn’t need to. All she had to do was follow his gaze up the highway to realize something was happening ahead of them. The traffic seemed to be backing up on both lanes. They themselves had no choice but to slow to a crawl.
“An accident?” she asked.
“I doubt it. Wanna bet it’s a construction tie-up? I swear, there isn’t a road in this country that isn’t being worked on somewhere along its length.”
He sounded like it was all a conspiracy directed personally against him. Were men always this grouchy when they were inconvenienced by road repairs?
“I didn’t see any signs announcing construction,” she said.
“You will.”
He was right. It took some considerable stop-and-go before they spotted it, but eventually they were advised by an orange caution sign that, within a half mile, they would need to move into the left lane.
The heavy traffic eased forward at a frustrating pace, seemingly inch by mere inch, each vehicle waiting its turn to squeeze over into the designated lane. But long before that shift arrived, the lines halted altogether. They sat there without moving.
The unexpected. What she’d been waiting for. If it worked out.
“This has got to be eating up the gas,” she commented.
He grunted. She waited. The stalled traffic waited.
“Hope you’ve got enough in your tank that we don’t get caught out here on empty. It could be a long while yet before we move out of this trap.”
“You let me worry about that.”
But he looked down at his gauge. And, hallelujah, the gas must have been just low enough for him to decide it might be smart to conserve it. That was what the expression on his face seemed to register, anyway.
Come on, McKinley, act. Don’t just think about it. Do it.
She restrained herself from a sigh of thanksgiving when, after lowering the window on his side, he turned off the engine.
The keys sat there in the ignition, beckoning to her.
Perfect. Or would be, if—
Ah, another break. He had his head out the window, muttering as he tried to see around the line in front of him in an endeavor to learn what was holding them up.
This was the moment she’d been waiting for. And feared she would never get. But somebody upstairs must have been listening to her prayers. Haley didn’t hesitate.
Unsnapping her seat belt, she leaned forward, snatched the keys out of the ignition and, with a pitch worthy of the Seattle Mariners, sent them flying out the open window, managing to just miss his head. With satisfaction, she heard them striking the pavement.
“Whoops.”
Chase’s ears were red with righteous anger when he withdrew his head. “Why, you little—”
He must have choked on whatever would have followed, because she never heard it. He couldn’t have been thinking clearly, or for that matter thinking at all, when he opened his door and exited the SUV. On the other hand, there was no other way for him to recover the keys. Haley had counted on that.
Chase was quick, but she was quicker. Before he could get the keys and stop her, she was out the door on her side, dashing across the shoulder, plunging into a ditch and scrambling under a rail fence. She was busy losing herself in the pine woods on the other side before it struck her that he had her purse. She had no money. No cell phone. What was she going to do on her own in a place where she knew no one?
Her escape hadn’t been so clever after all.
* * *
Chase ignored the blasts of the car horns behind him. Now that his brain was functioning again, he figured those blasts meant the traffic was rolling once more but the vehicles stuck behind his SUV weren’t.
Too bad. Let them squeeze around the SUV when they got the chance. He had a task more important than going back and moving it out of the way. He had Haley Adams to hunt down. When he caught up with her, and he would, he was going to blister her with language she wouldn’t forget. And that was the very least he was going to do.
She had disappeared into the woods on the other side of the fence. He had seen that much and was able to enter the forest at the same spot. Beyond that, he didn’t know. From here she could have chosen any direction, weaving her way through the ranks of the tall pines.
He looked for some flash of movement ahead of him. There was none. That slim figure was nowhere in sight.
Where are you, Haley?
The dense canopy of the trees cast a cool, damp shade below. Chase stood still, hoping to catch some sound that would betray her. All he heard was the distant call of a dove. Sounded like a dove, anyway. But what did he know? He had a limited knowledge of birds.
Silence followed. Nothing to hear now. And nothing to smell but the sharp fragrance of the pines. So it was his sight he needed to depend on.
Training in the army rangers had taught him tracking. He used that now, walking in a circle, gazing down at the forest floor for signs. It wasn’t long before he picked up the partial footprint of a tennis shoe in the moist earth. The toe pointed the way for him.