Rebecca wanted to throw the cordless phone out the window. “My name is Rebecca Linn.” A nurse had called the house every few hours and asked her to recite her name as a precaution after her head injury.
“That was the last one,” the nurse said. “Doctor says we can let you sleep without interruption tomorrow, but call us if you have any symptoms.”
She agreed and hung up. It was hard enough to go back to sleep when it was dark, but the sun streamed through the closed curtains. Rebecca missed the gorgeous view. She’d go stir-crazy real fast if she didn’t get to peek outdoors. She fought the temptation, slipped on her robe and walked into the kitchen to make some coffee.
Kurt’s long form was stretched out on the leather couch with Babette purring on his stomach. Rebecca put a hand on her mouth to keep from laughing, and yet it wasn’t fair. That cat refused to ever snuggle with her.
He’d changed into a short-sleeved dark polo with the golden star on the right side of his chest, dark pants and matching black socks. A pair of shoes sat on the carpet, prepped to be slipped on at a moment’s notice.
He flinched and launched vertically into standing with a hand on his weapon. A small scream escaped her lips as she jumped backward. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” Babette had landed on her feet and seemed nonplussed.
“Are you okay?” He pivoted to scan the rest of the open space.
If she’d had any doubt that he was trained in protection, her fears dissipated. She’d never seen a man move so fast. “I couldn’t sleep. I needed coffee.”
His shoulders relaxed and he removed his palm from the gun at his side. Instead his hand raked over his face. “Coffee is a good idea.” He slipped on his shoes before crossing into the kitchen. “So what’s the prognosis?”
Understanding dawned as the daylight seeped between the blinds. “The phone calls woke you up. I’m sorry. You could’ve stayed in one of the guest rooms. The judge wouldn’t have minded.”
“Only for a moment with each call, and it’s better to stay stationed closest to the entry points.” He shrugged. “It’s my job, so don’t apologize. I’d been briefed they’d be checking on you. It’s why I had you take the cordless with you to your room. I figured it was the doctor calling, but I wanted to be alert in case you told me otherwise.” His brow furrowed. “I have some news. We tracked down McCollum’s whereabouts around three in the morning.”
Kurt had put an alert out on McCollum after her initial reaction, but he’d also insisted they review other threats. She’d reviewed mug shots until just before midnight. According to the kitchen clock, it was barely seven in the morning.
She leaned forward. “You found him?” Her breath betrayed her hopefulness. While McCollum didn’t have the same eyes of her attacker, he’d been responsible for turning her father into a fearful man who didn’t match the photos her grandmother, before her passing, had once showed her.
“He’s dead,” Kurt said.
“Oh.” Her shoulders drooped. She inhaled slowly. “So it couldn’t have been him.” Which meant there was still a threat out there. No wonder Kurt had jumped up, ready to point his gun. Maybe it’d give her father some peace knowing the man who had first threatened Grandpa and the family was long gone. “Can I ask how?”
“Drug overdose a few years ago.”
“Years ago?” To think, her dad could’ve been free from fear a few years ago. She sighed. “Okay. Well, give me an hour, and I’ll be ready to go.”
He folded his arms across his chest. “Excuse me?” Babette chose that moment to walk around his ankles, rubbing her whiskers along the hemline of his pants. Kurt rolled his eyes and tried to sidestep the cat, but instead Babette flopped on top of his shoes. “What’s the cat’s name again?”
“Babette.”
“He’s one of the bad guys in Lady and the Tramp, right?”
Her mouth dropped. “No. She’s not. And she clearly likes you.” She sighed. “I need to go back to Vista Resorts and check in with their accounting department to make sense out of what I saw on the flash drive.”
He stared at her long enough to make her fidget. Fugitives probably surrendered without a fight if he leveled that gaze at them. “You’re very intimidating when you do that,” she finally said.
“I am?” His voice betrayed his genuine surprise. He blinked several times. “Sorry. I guess I stare when I’m trying to think of the best way to say something.”
“I respect a man who tries to control his tongue, but in this case, it’s probably worse than if you just spit it out. My imagination is too good.”
He smiled for half a second before schooling his features. “You should stay here.”
Well, that wasn’t what she wanted to hear. She swiveled, placed an individual coffee pod into the brewer and slipped her favorite coffee mug into the designated area. Grandpa had made it clear when he’d suggested bringing in the marshals that she could still work while being protected. She wasn’t in their WITSEC program, but maybe Grandpa hadn’t communicated that part when he’d requested the marshals. “As far as I know, I’m not under house arrest.”
His sigh reached her ears. “Technically you’re correct.”
“And I’m not in the witness protection program.” She picked up the mug and inhaled the savory aroma but realized it was rude to serve herself before her guest. She handed the cup to the marshal. “I assume you drink it black.” His face fell so fast she almost laughed. He was cute when he let his feelings show.
She pointed over his shoulder. “There’s creamer in the fridge and sugar in the pantry.”
“Thank you.” He picked the cat off his shoe and set her to the side. Babette objected with a sniff and left the room. He crossed the room to the fridge. “It’s easier to protect you while you’re inside.”
“Which I’ve given a lot of thought, really. So far, that man only tried to abduct me. Not kill me. And I’m confident no one will try that again with you by my side.” She brewed her own cup of coffee and hesitated to speak aloud the thoughts that kept her awake. “He could’ve got me.”
“What?”
Rebecca didn’t want to turn and look at him for fear the tears would return. “I know you brushed it off before, but I’m sure of it. Like I tried to explain, I can’t help but think he let me get away. He could’ve chased me down in that driveway or even got to me in that ditch. A skinny, unarmed, teenage boy waiting with me would be no match. The way the man fought, even, was almost as if he’d done it many times before. I either injured him more than I thought with the letter opener, or he let me get away.” She chanced a glance.
The edge of Kurt’s fingers turned white from the intensity of his grip around the mug. “And you think it has something to do with the flash drive?”
“I have no idea. It’s something that doesn’t make sense. Either way, I have to do my job and figure out what it means. The audit won’t be submitted until I have the surety that I’ve looked under every rock. My mind won’t rest until I’ve double-checked. I suspect one of the accountants slipped me the first drive. If it is connected, then the accountant might lead us to the threat.”
Kurt set his mug down and put his fists on his hip. “If you’re right and the threat is with the resort, that would be more the police’s jurisdiction.”
“But you won’t know until we find out, right?”
He looked up at the ceiling. “Fine. But I’m driving.”
She moved a little slower than she’d have liked. The bruises had darkened and her neck still smarted whenever she turned her head too fast, but she still managed to get ready to leave a couple hours later. Kurt had changed back into a dress shirt and slacks. Without the logo proudly displayed, she never would’ve guessed he was a marshal.
He helped her get in the truck and she waved goodbye to the officers when they left. Even once they’d arrived at the corporate offices, Kurt asked her to wait until he came around the other side to open the door. It was an act of protection, but either way she appreciated the gesture. He’d parked facing the view of the bright blue lake surrounded by majestic mountains topped with snow. She’d missed that sight, even if it’d been only a day cooped up inside the house.
They crossed the lot, side by side, as the breeze blew her hair back. Normally she welcomed the sensation, as her curls had the uncanny knack for sticking to her neck. Her scalp objected and she winced.
Kurt pivoted into action. One hand went for her back while the other gently held her forearm. “Are you okay?”
“Small discomfort.” She used her other hand to cradle the back of her head. She’d wanted to go without the bandage as it had stopped bleeding, but maybe that had been a bad idea. They walked through the curving sidewalks, underneath the array of trees and past a stone bench.
While the landscaping had a classic design, the corporate offices portrayed innovation and design. The hotel and spa towered in the distance. Vista’s main holdings were all in Coeur d’Alene with a smaller ski resort in Colorado.
A young man in a gray security uniform opened the door. His metal name tag said S. Howard. “Miss Linn. Good to see you again.”
They’d struck up a nice conversation during lunch yesterday about staying in touch with relatives who lived far away. He’d given her a great idea about where to find cheap souvenirs. Meeting new people was her favorite part of the job. Grandpa, ever the introvert, didn’t understand that.
The guard smiled at Kurt, but his face fell just as fast as Kurt leveled a distrustful glare at him. Rebecca almost rolled her eyes, but she supposed making people want to keep their distance was part of the protection detail, as well.
A waist-high potted plant was on either side of the door. They were placed strategically every ten feet or so around the hallways of the entire building. They made her feel like she was headed to the spa because they all looked like mini palm trees, called dracaena. Sadly all the ones inside were fake, silk leaves with white rocks surrounding them instead of dirt.
She strode across the white marble floor to the elevator, but a middle-aged woman practically chased her down. The slaps of her heeled shoes echoed in the cavernous lobby. “Miss? Miss!” The lady smoothed out her skirt when Rebecca stopped. “I’m afraid you need to stay in the waiting area.”
It didn’t escape her notice that Kurt’s hand twitched, ready to grab the gun holstered underneath his blazer.
“Excuse me?” Maybe the lady didn’t recognize her. “I was here yesterday. I’m the auditor.”
“Rebecca,” a male voice called out. A bald but youthful-looking man in a suit held his hand over his head and waved. If memory served her, he was the managing director and, more importantly, one of Grandpa’s favorite golfing buddies. He crossed the lobby with an outstretched hand. As he shook her hand, he leaned forward to deliver a conspiratorial whisper. “We were under the impression you’d finished the on-site work.” He did a double-take when he noticed Kurt but recovered. “Jake Putnam.”
Kurt accepted his handshake but didn’t offer his name or reason for being there. “Jake, I thought I was done, but I need to confirm something in the accounting department.”
He folded his hands and pulled his mouth to the side. “See, that’s where we run into a little problem. We scheduled a training day for the accountants.” He tapped his index fingers to his mouth and shook his head. “We had plans to update the software. So I’m sure you understand.”
Rebecca knew stall tactics when she heard them. She smiled back but didn’t move from her position at the elevator. She mimicked Jake’s folded hands because, according to a study her boss frequently cited, acting like a behavioral chameleon in negotiations was supposed to increase her odds of success. “That’s interesting. While I did say I had what I needed yesterday, I was told to holler if I needed anything else. In fact, I was scheduled to be in the department all week long. No one knew I’d finish early. So…”
The director’s face scrunched up in concern. “I wish I could help you.”
So much for the supposed study.
Mr. Putnam’s forehead looked particularly shiny. “The plans probably got moved up suddenly when you announced you were finished. How about I find out if Mr. Cabell can move some of these trainings around and call you?”
While it was possible they’d moved the training up suddenly, she found it hard to believe. “That’d be great.”
Kurt led her to the front door. “That guy is nervous about something, I’ll give you that.”
Outside, a woman in a light cardigan sweater and navy pants sat on the bench and pulled a sandwich from a brown bag. Rebecca could picture exactly which cubicle she worked at in the accounting department. She worked right across from the man who’d bumped into her in the hallway.
“Excuse me?” Rebecca rushed toward her. “Remember me? Rebecca Linn.” The woman nodded, so she pressed on. “I heard you guys were in training all day.”
The woman raised her eyebrows. “Nothing on the schedule as far as I know.”
So Mr. Putnam had been lying. Rebecca looked over her shoulder and gave Kurt a knowing nod. “Okay, well I had a quick question. Could you tell me the name of the other accountant—about my height, super-dark curly hair, wore a polo yester—”
“Levi Garner. Yeah. He apparently went on a vacation all of a sudden.”
Kurt stepped forward. “Is that odd?”
The woman set her sandwich on her lap. “I don’t know. Maybe just to me. He said he wanted to save up his time off so he could go on a three-week trip to Australia.”
Dread settled in Rebecca’s gut. The memory of the cold eyes of her attempted kidnapper gave her chills. She had the worst feeling the accountant wasn’t on vacation. If her attacker was connected to the audit, Levi could be on the run or perhaps he never got to go at all.
* * *
Kurt pulled out of the parking lot, his GPS already guiding him. Rebecca spoke a mile a minute, her arms flailing beside him. He blew out a breath. “Would you please calm down? We don’t know that this Levi guy has been kidnapped. For now, let’s assume he’s safely enjoying some sunshine down under.”
“Maybe he had to go on vacation because he knew they would come after him as a whistle-blower.”
“Whistle-blower to what?”
She pursed her lips. “I’m not a hundred percent sure. If I’d had just one more minute with that spreadsheet before…” Her voice trailed off.
He didn’t blame her for not wanting to talk about the abduction attempt again. And there was no point in jumping to conclusions. It still seemed most likely that the threat was court related. While some of what she’d experienced was odd, so was life. Weird coincidences happened all the time. “You can stop worrying. I’ve already agreed that we can go talk to him.” The man’s address had been easy to locate and, if she could get what she needed for her auditing job, she’d be able to focus more on the threat or decide to go back to Ohio.
A shape in the rearview mirror caught his attention. A beefed-up black Hummer drove two cars behind them. It wasn’t anything to worry about, but vehicles like that always made him stop and shake his head. Such overkill.
The Hummer passed one of the cars. Kurt frowned. That had been an awfully tight spot the Hummer had squeezed into. So far no laws had been broken, and while he had never given someone a traffic ticket before, he knew he had the legal backing to do so if necessary.
As he drove through another intersection, the car behind him turned right. Great. Mr. Running Late would likely tailgate him. He wouldn’t allow anyone to follow too closely while with his protectee. The GPS informed him he would be making a left turn onto the US-95 bridge. Unfortunately the Hummer stayed right behind him.
Kurt sped up to create distance. He squinted in the rearview mirror and memorized the plate number. If this guy tried anything, he’d report it to the police.
“I hate bridges,” Rebecca said.
Kurt chanced a glance to see her head leaning against the headrest. She was staring at the roof of the cab. He supposed the thirty, maybe forty, foot drop down to the Spokane River could make some people nervous.
The Hummer flashed a left turn signal. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Kurt muttered. On the one hand, the use of the signal relaxed him. Criminals didn’t usually have the decency to signal what they were about to do. But on the other hand, this wasn’t a passing lane. Thankfully there was no one else on the bridge.
He slid as far over to the right of the lane as he could without scraping against the two thin white guardrails. Every law-enforcement number in the area had been programmed into his phone. “Call nonemergency police.” He wasn’t going to take time to stop the guy in his personal vehicle while he had his protectee, but he wanted to alert the police. His phone, connected to a hands-free system, started ringing.
The truck lurched into the guardrail. “What—” He fought with the steering wheel as the sound of crunching metal filled the cab of the pickup. Rebecca gasped, but as he turned to look, the airbag opened to within an inch of his face, hitting his forearms and forcing his hands off the wheel as it fully inflated. The Hummer gave a final shove and the pickup flipped over the rail.
Rebecca’s screams barely registered as the pounding of his heart filled his ears. They dangled like rag dolls against the seat belts as they vaulted through the expanse toward the unforgiving water below. The waves grew closer and closer.
“Lord, please!”
He echoed Rebecca’s plea but didn’t have time to say anything else except to shout, “Protect your head!”
He thrust his arms up in front of his face as the front end slapped into the water. The pickup flipped to the side and Kurt’s head and torso flung into the driver’s-side door. Pain blinded him as his shoulder wrenched from its socket.
The truck rolled again and his entire body hung against the seat belt. The sound of rushing water filled the back seat.
“Kurt! Kurt, are you okay? Should I open the door? Roll down the window?” Her questions came out like fast cries that he could barely comprehend while in agony. The statistics of water crashes had been drilled into his head. They had thirty, maybe ninety, seconds at the most before they lost any chance of survival.
The ache traveled across his entire left side until he couldn’t take it any more. He sucked in a deep breath, twisted his arm and pulled it over his head. An unstoppable moan wrenched past his lips as the shoulder popped back into place. He blinked despite the lingering pain. At least his left side didn’t feel like it was on fire anymore. He could work past sore and tender.
They hung upside down with all the windows and doors engulfed in water. Cracks covered the windshield, but as the glass was coated with a type of laminate to keep it from shattering, that wouldn’t help them. The doors wouldn’t budge until they stopped sinking and reached equilibrium.
He didn’t know the depth of the river, but since Lake Coeur d’Alene drained into it, there was a chance it was up to two hundred feet deep. Even once the truck filled fully with water, it would take longer than they could hold their breaths before they’d be able to escape. And if they somehow did, the frigid waters would render them unconscious within fifteen minutes.
One problem at a time.
The pressure around the side windows would keep them from rolling down. He unbuckled his seat belt and caught himself on the dash. His shoulder immediately objected. Water poured in from underneath the steering wheel. The liquid, even colder than he’d imagined, seeped through his shoes and socks and set his teeth on edge.
“Kurt, what do we do?” Her eyes were wide with panic. “I can’t get my seat belt off.” A streak of blood dripped down her neck.
Please let it only be from aggravating the previous wound, Lord. A static-filled hum and a voice on low volume came through the speakers. Over and over, someone asked, “Sir? Sir?” The police must have connected with his cell phone.
“If you can hear me, send help to the Spokane River Bridge.” He bent over at an awkward angle and yanked the keys out of the ignition before the water reached it. He flipped open the attached multifunctional tool. He made small movements toward Rebecca, knowing the seconds ticked faster than he could keep up.
“Lean on me,” he instructed.
She pressed her hands on either side of his collarbone and shoved her feet against the dashboard as she pressed herself upward into the seat, so the seat belt would have more slack and room for him to maneuver. “Hurry. I can’t stay like this much longer. I’m not strong enough.”
He slipped the knife between her torso and the nylon webbing. They had to already be approaching a minute. His hands worked furiously until the knife flung toward him, free of its constraint. He dropped the blade as she fell against him. They fought against the tangle of arms and legs in such a small spot. He balanced himself against the dash and ripped off his blazer in preparation for the onslaught of water.
Rebecca wrapped her arms tight around her torso and shivered, her feet submerged. “It’s filling fast.”
The side windows were made from a different glass than the windshield. They were tempered glass. “I’m going to have to break the window. The moment I do, you need to swim out no matter what I’m doing. It’s going to be hard, but it’s the only way. You have to trust me.”
Her lips trembled. She nodded but said nothing.
If they got out alive, he would buy window-breaking tools in bulk and give them to everyone he knew for Christmas presents. But he didn’t have one now, so that wouldn’t help, and the myth that unhooked headrests had been designed to the do the job had been disproven. If he had more time and if his shoulder wasn’t hurting, he would’ve tried anyway. Kurt gulped. Almost ninety seconds. If he waited any longer they’d have no chance.
He pulled out his handgun, the very worst and last option. “Cover your ears and remember what I said. Dive into the oncoming water.” Kurt pointed the weapon at the lower corner of the side window. He needed to get Rebecca out first.
The truck shifted, sinking faster. No more time for second-guessing. No room for error. He tilted his head against his good shoulder and used his other hand to cover his left ear. “Help this work,” he whispered, as a prayer, and pressed the trigger.
The deafening noise made him flinch. The window shattered at the same time the water rushed in like a tsunami. Kurt sucked in a deep breath and shoved Rebecca toward the opening as he launched himself behind her.
He kicked madly against the current and lost his grip on the back of her shirt. He could feel the current of the truck sinking like a brick, pulling them down with it. Dark, murky water swirled past him as he kicked harder, fighting to the surface. He’d lost sight of Rebecca. Had she been pulled further under? His lungs burned.
His face crested and he eagerly sucked in a breath of air. His head spun and he fought against the dizziness.
Rebecca. He needed to go back down and find her. Coughing stopped him. He spun around. Wet hair clung to her cheeks and neck as another coughing fit overcame her. She began to sink.
He lunged toward her and put an arm underneath hers for support as he treaded water, shivering. “Are you okay?”
She coughed once more and nodded rapidly.
“We made it,” she cried. Her teeth chattered. She closed her eyes and shook her head. “You see why I hate bridges?”
He barked a laugh. “This happens to you often, does it?” He couldn’t help it. He got sarcastic when fear got the best of him. And despite all his training, this was the closest call he’d ever had. He tried to gauge which bank would be the closest. He tensed his muscles, trying to fend off the violent shivering his insides had already started.
Rebecca turned and clung to his neck as her entire body shook. “Wh-what happened, though? A pothole? A tire blowout or a freak accident?” Sirens filled the air.
Kurt met her gaze and positioned himself to start the sidestroke toward land. They needed to start moving before the cold won. He afforded himself a glance at the bridge far above them. “That was no accident. Someone wanted you dead.”
And he needed to get her to safety before they tried again.