Running for Cover Page 6

  Sure you will.

  The thought floated through Morgan’s mind, and she frowned, opening her eyes and focusing on the blue sky outside the window. The past twenty-four hours had been tough, but she was a survivor. First as a young girl living in poverty and neglect. Then as an orphan fighting for her place in the orphanage. Now, as an adult facing her husband’s infidelity, his crime and his death. Survivors didn’t quit. They didn’t give in. And they certainly didn’t sit around hoping someone else would save them.

  She’d better keep that in mind, because if she didn’t, she just might relax and let Jackson take control of everything. And that, she knew, would only lead to heartache.

  SIX

  Danger hovered just out of sight. Watching. Waiting. Hoping for an opportunity to strike. Jackson couldn’t see it, but he could feel it staring daggers into his back as he pulled Morgan’s carry-on case through the crowded Chicago airport. He lowered the handle of the case and lifted it. Easier to carry the case than to drag it through the crowd. Easier and quicker.

  “Well, we made it,” Morgan said, with a false cheerfulness that Jackson didn’t miss. Could she sense the danger that seemed to hang in the air?

  Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, Jackson knew what she wanted—him gone.

  She wasn’t the only one. Whoever was watching was probably hoping for the same thing. Alone, Morgan was no match for the kind of men who’d attacked her. They knew it. Jackson knew it. The only one who didn’t seem to know it was Morgan.

  “The question is, did the guys who are after you make it, too?” Jackson responded.

  “Even if they knew what plane I was on, they’d have had to take a different flight out.”

  “Maybe. I got a ticket. It’s possible they did, too. We have to think of all the possibilities, Morgan. And plan for them,” Jackson said, his gaze focused on the people waiting outside the departure gate. Family and friends, people going about their daily lives, excited and happy to be greeting loved ones.

  Was someone else waiting?

  Someone hoping to get a chance to speak with Morgan again? There was no doubt where such a meeting would lead. Whether they got what they wanted or not, they’d kill her.

  “I agree. That’s why I’m going to find my connecting flight and stay by the boarding gate until it’s time to leave. Once I get on the plane to Spokane, I’ll be fine. Sheriff Reed said he’s informed the police there of my arrival, and I’m sure they’ll be there to look out for me.” She hedged around the issue of whether or not Jackson would continue the journey with her.

  Jackson had expected her to begin arguing her points as soon as the plane touched the ground, doing her best to convince him to go back to Lakeview. She hadn’t. Maybe she was feeling exactly what he was. A pump of adrenaline, a hum of awareness, a silent warning that trouble was nearby.

  He slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her to his side and holding tight when she would have pulled away. “Let’s stick close for a while, okay?”

  “Close? We’re nearly joined at the hip,” she huffed, but she didn’t try to move away again. The scent of her perfume swirled around them. Light and subtle with an exotic undertone, it matched its wearer perfectly. It was something Jackson shouldn’t be noticing. Not when there was so much at stake.

  He frowned, hurrying Morgan toward the arrival gate.

  “Are you leaving?” Morgan asked, as if she really believed he would.

  “We’re leaving. I thought we’d go get something to eat.”

  “I appreciate the thought, but I’m not hungry.”

  “I’m not, either,” he responded, glancing around as he stepped into the busy terminal. The place was teaming with people, and if any of them were watching Morgan and Jackson, they weren’t being obvious about it.

  “Then why….” Her voice trailed off, and her eyes widened. “You think they’re here.”

  She didn’t say who “they” were. She didn’t have to. They both knew.

  They were the men who’d beaten her, who’d do worse if they got their hands on her again.

  “I think there’s a possibility they’re here. I figure we’ll walk outside, get in a cab and see if anyone follows. That should confirm or allay my suspicions.”

  “Go outside and get a cab? Are you kidding? That’s like waving a red flag in front of a bull.”

  “I was thinking of it more as baiting a rat trap.”

  “And we’re the bait?”

  “If it brings our perps out of hiding, it’ll be worth it,” he said, not releasing his hold as he led Morgan outside into the cool fall day.

  “I hope you have a plan for when the bull decides to charge.”

  Dark clouds hung over the sky, trapping the scent of the exhaust that wafted from the mufflers of a dozen taxis that idled nearby.

  Jackson urged Morgan to one of them, glancing over his shoulder as the driver opened the door and then the trunk. Several dozen people had walked out of the airport. A couple. A family. A woman alone. None of them looked like the kind of danger Jackson was expecting.

  And he was expecting it.

  Someone had killed Cody in an attempt to retrieve the disk he’d hidden. Had it been an act of desperation or an act of cold calculation? The disk was worth a lot to someone, and whoever wanted it believed Morgan knew where it was.

  He tossed the carry-on into the trunk and got into the taxi, positioning himself so that he had a clear view out the back and side windows.

  “Where to?” the driver asked.

  “Know a good place to eat around here?”

  “There’s a diner a couple of miles away. Good food. Quick service.”

  “Sounds perfect,” Jackson said, his attention focused on the door they’d just exited through.

  Come on. I know you’re in there. Just step outside and let me get a look before we drive off.

  As if his thoughts had conjured them, three men exited the building. One was dressed in a business suit and hurried toward a waiting cab. The other two surveyed the area, their casual attire and relaxed demeanor hinting of nothing beyond what they seemed to be. There was something about them that drew Jackson’s attention, though. Something that didn’t seem right. Maybe it was the stealthy, fluid way they moved. Or maybe it was the way they seemed to avoid looking in Jackson’s direction. He caught just a glimpse of their profiles before the taxi pulled into traffic exiting the airport and he lost sight of them.

  Had they gotten in a cab?

  He’d find out soon enough. If they were the guys who’d attacked Morgan, they’d follow. To the diner, to Spokane, to anyplace where they thought Morgan and the disk might be found.

  “Did someone follow us?” Morgan asked, shifting in her seat so that she could look out the back window. Watery sunlight filtered through the taxi’s window, bathing Morgan’s face in blue-gray light and adding depth to the bruises that tracked along her jaw and her cheek.

  She had a tough, sharp-edged personality, but there was a fragility beneath it that made Jackson want to tuck her away in a safe house until she was out of danger.

  Of course, if he tried, she’d fight him, kicking and screaming the entire way.

  “I saw a couple of men walk out of the airport,” Jackson said.

  “I saw a couple of dozen people walk out of the airport. What was different about the two you noticed?”

  “Nothing I can put my finger on, but it won’t hurt to see if they follow us.”

  “And if they do? What then?”

  “We’ll call in the police and have them questioned.”

  “Before or after they pull guns and shoot us?”

  Her comment surprised a smile out of Jackson, and he patted her knee, realizing too late the mistake he was making.

  Heat shot through him at the contact, and he pulled away, irritated with his reaction. He’d worked plenty of cases since he joined Kane Dogherty’s PI firm, Information Unlimited, had had other clients as beautiful and compelling as Morgan. None of them had
affected him the way she did.

  He took a deep, steadying breath, forced himself to focus on the conversation. “If they’re the men from last night, they flew in from Virginia. No way are they carrying guns.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that. I suppose it’s something to be thankful for. Although I think I’d rather be shot than stabbed. It seems like a faster way to die.”

  “Depends on where the wound is. I’ve investigated homicide cases that involved a knife wound directly to the heart or neck. It’s amazing how quickly that can kill a person.”

  “Thanks for that image, Jackson. I’m sure it’ll help me sleep tonight.”

  “Sorry. I forgot I was talking to a delicate flower of a woman,” he said, grinning as she scowled.

  “‘Delicate flower of a woman.’ You’re one of those kinds of men, aren’t you?”

  “What kind of man would that be?”

  “The kind that flashes a charming smile and gets what he wants?”

  “I’d like to say that’s how I used to be,” he responded lightly. He’d changed a lot since Lindsey died. Become more serious. Less playful. Started to yearn for something permanent and strong. Like what his parents had and what he’d always said he didn’t want.

  “You’d like to say it?”

  “I guess it’s up to other people to decide whether or not I’ve changed,” he responded absently, his gaze on the traffic behind them as the taxi driver pulled into the parking lot of a small diner.

  “Here we are, folks. You want me to come pick you up in an hour? I can take you back to the airport or to your hotel or wherever you’re staying.”

  “How much would it cost for you to wait here?” Jackson asked, his eyes on a taxi that had stopped a block away from the diner.

  “Normal rate. You pay by the minute.”

  “Do you know if this place has a back entrance?”

  “Can’t say I do, but seems like it would be fire code.”

  “I’ll give you a hundred bucks to drive a couple blocks away, then circle back here. Pull around to the back and wait for us there.”

  “A hundred bucks plus my regular fare?” the driver asked, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

  “Sure.”

  “It’s your nickel, then. Pay me for this trip up front, though. I don’t want to be stiffed.”

  Jackson handed him a few crumbled bills and then got out and grabbed Morgan’s carry-on from the trunk.

  She was out of the taxi and beside him before he got the trunk closed.

  “You think they followed us, don’t you?” she asked, and he nodded.

  “There’s a taxi a block up, idling near the curb. Don’t bother looking for it. We don’t want them to realize they’ve been spotted.”

  “We’d better call the police.”

  “We will, but I want to see if I can get a look at our guys first.”

  “Just in case the police don’t get here before they leave?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Good plan. So let’s get it done,” she responded, marching toward the diner like a prisoner going to the gallows.

  She wasn’t the delicate flower he’d teased her about earlier, but not quite the hardened cynic she’d probably like people to believe she was, either.

  So who was she?

  Jackson wasn’t sure, but he planned to find out. There was something about Morgan that appealed to him. Maybe it was her fierce independence, which was so different from the neediness of most of the women he’d dated. Or maybe it was the vulnerability he sensed beneath the surface. Maybe it was simply that he’d helped save her life and wanted to make sure she continued to survive.

  Whatever the case, he planned to find out more about Morgan Alexandria.

  But first, he needed to find out more about the men who had almost killed her.

  SEVEN

  Morgan was sure she felt the weight of a hundred eyes following as she made her way to the entrance of the diner and pushed open the door. She wanted to turn around, study her surroundings and try to find the source of the uncomfortable feeling, but Jackson was right. If she looked, she’d be tempted to search for the taxi he’d spotted. The last thing she wanted was to give up the advantage she and Jackson had.

  She stepped inside the dimly lit diner, Jackson just a few feet behind. She didn’t need to look to know he was there. Didn’t need to have him close to feel his presence. His scent had enveloped her on the flight to the Chicago airport, his spicy, masculine cologne filling her senses until she’d been tempted to get up and walk the length of the cabin just to get away from him.

  Men.

  Who needed them?

  She didn’t. That’s for sure.

  She’d sworn off them the night she’d unpacked Cody’s suitcase and found another woman’s lingerie. He’d had an excuse, of course. He always did. A mix-up with the hotel laundry, he’d said, and had even called to complain. The problem was, for the first time in their marriage Morgan hadn’t been able to believe the lie.

  “Table for two?” a cheerful waitress asked, interrupting Morgan’s unhappy thoughts.

  “Can we get one near a front window?” Jackson responded with a smile that would have made Morgan’s heart melt if it hadn’t been icy cold and carved from the reality of Cody’s infidelity.

  “Whatever you want.” The waitress offered a smile of her own and a quick wink aimed at Jackson before she led them to a booth with a view of the front parking lot and handed them each a menu.

  As soon as she left, Morgan leaned close to the window, trying to see up the street. “Do you think they’re out there?”

  “I think we’re going to find out soon, so how about we decide what we want to eat before they show up.”

  “Eat? How can you possibly be thinking of food at a time like this?”

  “Easily. I haven’t eaten since breakfast, and I’m hungry. I’m going to have a turkey club. I’ll order the same for you.”

  “I…” She was going to say she didn’t want anything, but what was the point in arguing? The fact was, they had a long day ahead of them. Facing it with a full stomach was probably a better idea then facing it with an empty one. Even if doing so meant choking down the food while being stalked by two men who probably wanted her dead.

  “That’s fine.”

  Jackson waved the waitress over and ordered the food to go, then turned his attention back to the parking lot. If he was anxious it didn’t show. His body was relaxed, his hands splayed out on the table, tapping a beat on the scarred wood. He looked like what he was—a handsome, confident professional who probably had a full life beyond his business dealings. So why wasn’t he rushing back to New York? What had he been thinking when he’d offered to protect Morgan while Jude and Lacey honeymooned?

  Maybe he hadn’t been thinking at all. Maybe the offer had simply been a means to an end. He wanted his good friend to have a wonderful wedding and honeymoon, and he’d said whatever was necessary to make sure that happened. A Cody-like move by a man who was too much like Morgan’s ex-husband for her peace of mind.

  And nothing like him at all. After all, Jackson had followed through on his promise. Had gone out of his way to do what he’d said he would.

  Morgan frowned, not liking the direction of her thoughts, and turned her attention back to the parking lot. “See anything yet?”

  “I think so.”

  “Who? Where?”

  “Look up the road. See the two guys walking toward the diner?”

  “Jeans and T-shirts, and one is wearing a baseball cap?”

  “They just got out of the cab, and I think they’re the guys I saw at the airport. Neither was wearing a hat then, but they carry themselves the same. Do you recognize either of them?”

  Did she?

  Morgan peered out the window, trying to get a better look. The previous night was a blur, the pain and shock of what had happened wiping out some of the memories, but not all of them. She remembered the moment the men had entered her sho
p. Confident and sure of themselves, moving with a stealthy ease that had put Morgan on edge. If only she’d run up the stairs and to her apartment as soon as she’d seen them, she might have saved herself a whole lot of pain. She wouldn’t have needed Jackson to save her, and she’d still be in Lakeview, enjoying the last few moments of Lacey’s wedding.

  Or she’d have been chased up the stairs, her door would have been broken down and she’d still be right where she was, staring out the window at two men who actually did look vaguely familiar. “It could be them, but both have blond hair. One of the guys last night was a brunette.”

  “Hair color can be changed.”

  “I know. It’s just so hard to say for sure. Everything happened so fast. One minute I was standing behind the counter, wrapping a pot that a client was going to pick up today, the next I was lying on the floor.” She’d come to in her kitchen, cold water dripping down her face, her head throbbing with pain. There’d been more pain to come, but Morgan preferred not to dwell on it. She’d survived being abandoned by her birth mother and a year in a Latvian orphanage by refusing to acknowledge the hunger and the desperation she’d felt as she lay on a hard wooden pallet every night. She’d survived being separated from her brother and sister by refusing to feel the pain that had ripped at her heart and torn at her stomach.

  Or trying to refuse it.

  Letting go of the pain of losing Nikolai and Katia had been as impossible as assimilating into the Alexandria family. Nearly twenty years later, and she was still trying unsuccessfully to do both.

  “You still with me?” Jackson asked, his hand covering hers, his palm pressed against her knuckles, the touch more comforting than she wanted it to be.

  “Yes, I’m just trying to remember.” She needed to focus. Were the men the same ones who’d attacked her the night before?

  She watched as they drew nearer, focusing on the way they moved, the angle of their jaws, the shape of their noses and eyes. They didn’t look like the kind of men who’d be up to no good, but there was something about their hard expressions that made Morgan shiver. “I think it’s them.”