was too damn sexy for his own good.
As if sensing her watching him, he straightened slowly and she was given a bird’s-eye view of his long back as he stretched, then walked to a black beat-up leather case and unzipped it. Out came a laptop computer complete with wireless connection device.
He glanced over his shoulder, his green eyes glinting in amusement.
“You could have said something,” she charged.
“And miss seeing you get ticked off? No way. But this isn’t the be-all and end-all. I have one extra battery. No more. Since there’s no electricity here, the juice won’t last forever.”
“Wonderful,” she said, lifting her baby to her shoulder and gently rubbing his back.
“It’s better than nothing.”
“Can I use it?”
“For a small fee,” he said as the corners of his mouth twitched.
“You are so full of it.”
“Wouldn’t want to disappoint.”
“You never do, Striker.”
“Good. Let’s keep it that way.”
Joshua gave a loud burp. “There we go, big guy,” she whispered as she spread his blanket on a pad and changed his diaper. The baby kicked and gurgled, his eyes bright in the firelight. “Oh, you’re full of the devil, aren’t you?” She played with him a few more minutes until he yawned and sighed. Randi held him and swayed a little as he nodded off. She couldn’t imagine what life would have been like without this precious little boy. She kissed his soft crown, and as his breathing became regular and his head heavy, she placed him upon the makeshift crib of blankets and pillows, then glanced around the stark, near-empty cabin. “We really are in the middle of no-darned-where.”
“That was the general idea.”
She ran a finger through the dust on an old scarred table. “No electricity, no indoor plumbing, no television, radio or even any good books lying around.”
“I guess we’ll just have to make do and find some way to amuse ourselves.” His expression was positively wicked, his eyes glittering with amusement. That he could find even the tiniest bit of humor in this vile situation was something, she thought, though she didn’t like the way her throat caught when he stared at her, nor the way blood went rushing through her veins as he cocked an arrogant eyebrow.
“I think we’ll do just fine,” she said, hoping to sound frosty when, in fact, her voice was more than a tad breathless. Damn it all, she didn’t like the idea of being trapped here with him in the middle of God-only-knew-where, didn’t like feeling vulnerable not only to whoever was stalking her, but also to the warring emotions she felt whenever she was around Striker. Don’t even go there, she told herself. All you have to do is get through the next few days. By then, if he does his job the way he’s supposed to, he’ll catch the bad guy and you can reclaim your life. Then, you’ll be safe. You and your baby can start over.
Unless something goes wrong. Terribly, terribly wrong.
She glanced again at Striker.
Whether she liked it or not, she was stuck with him.
Things could be worse.
Less than two hours later, Striker’s phone jangled.
He jumped and snapped it open. “Striker.”
“It’s Kelly. I’ve got information.”
Finally! He leaned a hip against an old windowsill and watched as Randi, glasses perched on the end of her nose, looked up from his laptop. “News?”
He nodded. “Go on,” he said into the phone and listened as Matt McCafferty’s wife began to explain.
“I think I’ve located the vehicle that forced Randi off the road in Glacier Park. A maroon Ford truck, a few years old, had some dents banged out of it in a chop shop in Idaho. All under-the-table stuff. Got the lead from a disgruntled employee who swears the chop shop owner owes him back wages.”
Striker’s jaw hardened. “Let me guess. The truck was registered to Sam Donahue.”
“Close. Actually was once owned by Marv Bates, or, precisely, a girlfriend of his.”
“Have you located Bates?”
Randi visibly stiffened. She set aside the laptop and crossed the few feet separating them. “We’re working on it. I’ve got the police involved. My old boss, Espinoza, is doing what he can.” Roberto Espinoza was a senior detective who was working on Randi’s case. Kelly Dillinger had once worked for him, but turned in her badge about the time she married Matt McCafferty. “But so far, we haven’t been able to locate Mr. Bates.”
“He had an alibi.”
“Yeah,” Kelly said. “Airtight. Good ol’ boys Sam Donahue and Charlie Caldwell swore they were all over at Marv’s house when Randi was forced off the road. Charlie’s girlfriend at the time, Trina Spencer, verified the story, but now Charlie and Trina have split, so we’re looking for her. Maybe she’ll change her tune now that Charlie’s no longer the love of her life and the truck she owned has been linked to the crime. We’re talking to the employees of the chop shop. I figure it’s just a matter of time before one of ’em cracks.”
“Good. It’s a start.”
“Finally,” Kelly agreed. “I’ll keep working on it.”
“Want to talk to Randi?”
“Absolutely.” Striker handed the phone to Randi and listened to her end of the conversation as she asked about what Kelly had discovered, then turned the conversation to her family. A few minutes later, she hung up.
“This is the break you’ve been waiting for,” she said, and he heard the hope in her voice.
God, he hated to burst her bubble. “It’s a start, Randi. Time will tell if it pans out, but yeah, it’s something.”
He only hoped it was enough.
“Why don’t you turn in.” He unrolled a sleeping bag, placing it between the baby’s makeshift crib and the fire.
“Where will you be?”
“Here.” He shoved a chair close to the door.
She eyed the old wingback. “Aren’t you going to sleep?”
“Maybe doze.”
“You’re still afraid,” she charged.
“Not afraid. Just vigilant.”
She shook her head, unaware that the fire’s glow brought out the red streaks in her hair. Sighing, she started working off one boot with the toe of another. “I really can’t believe this is my life.” The first boot came off, followed quickly by the second. Plopping
