Dealing Double Page 3

  He made a note to himself: No more flirting. For the rest of his life. “I’m damaged merchandise, kid. Not nearly good enough for someone as sweet as you.”

  “I’ll have to settle with having you only in my dreams, then, I guess.” She smiled coyly while he put his card into the reader to pay.

  Probably best to ignore that comment. When the machine indicated he could, he removed his card. “Say hi to your folks. See ya.” He turned and pushed the cart out and into the snow as fast as the ice would allow.

  Once he was all loaded up, he slowly hit the highway and navigated the slick asphalt to the cabin. He took the turn off onto a dirt road covered in fresh powder. Looked like none of the neighbors had been down their street to leave tire tracks, so he forged down the middle and christened the pristine, glistening snow.

  Pulling up in front of the cabin, he maneuvered the truck as close as he could to the front door and then shut things down. Once he’d hauled all the groceries in, he’d grab some wood from the back and make himself a cozy fire. He loved when it snowed at the cabin. Something about trudging through it to get inside, sitting in the warm living room with the blinds open, and watching the animals leave tracks in their wake made his heart grow lighter. Maybe his time in the woods would do him some good after all. Maybe he did need to recharge and relax and learn to stand his own company for more than ten minutes. And just maybe he’d finally read that self-help book his buddy had given him to learn to relax.

  He stomped the snow off his boots and then reached for the key in his coat pocket. But it wasn’t there. Had it fallen out in the truck?

  He walked back to his 4x4 and put the groceries down as he searched the passenger side and then under the back seats in the extended cab for the lost key.

  Dammit. It was probably an omen. Had coming to the cabin been a bad idea after all?

  After sleeping for sixteen hours straight, Gabby, still feeling guilty for breaking into the cabin, sipped good coffee and enjoyed the light snowfall as she peered out the kitchen window, watching for her father’s men. The little crisscross prints the flitting birds left in the snow made her smile.

  She’d woken up in the early afternoon, taken a peek outside, and realized that her plans for trooping miles to the dig site were instantly thwarted. Maybe the sun would come out the next day so she’d be able to continue her mission in the morning. Until the snow melted, no one else could effectively dig at the site, either, so she probably hadn’t lost any time there in her race to be first.

  She turned and smiled at the coziness of the cabin. It had all the amenities of a five-star hotel, including central heat, so she was still padding around in her socks and pj’s at four thirty in the afternoon.

  She crossed to the living room and ran her hand over the back of the rich-leather furniture while admiring the fine wood of the shelves that held homey knickknacks and books. She danced her fingers along the spines, searching for a fun story. She spotted a framed picture of two little girls and a handsome dark-haired man. She picked it up, studying it. They all looked happy. And the girls were so cute it melted her heart.

  If she kept on living the way she had been, always under heavy guard, she’d probably never have a husband or kids, because no decent man would ever marry her when he found out the truth about her father.

  She was two years shy of thirty. The clock wasn’t just ticking—it was clanging.

  She’d always dreamed of having kids. To have people to love who were good and sweet, like her mom had been. A child to nurture and love with all her heart, the way her mom had loved her. She’d been essentially alone the last twelve years, hiding out, keeping her head down. Her love tank was practically overflowing with the need to share it with a handsome husband and their happy children. Like in the picture.

  The slamming of a car door quickly ended her little daydream, and she hopped into action. She peeked out the peephole in the front door. A truck had parked in the driveway. Crap. Had they found her already? She could make out only the back of a man, bent over, gathering something out of the vehicle. Only one man instead of the usual pair who guarded her. Maybe her father had hired a new guard to retrieve her?

  Her heart pounded as her mind raced for a solution. She could go out through the same window she’d come in from, but then a car chase for an inexperienced driver in the snow could be fatal.

  She ran to the kitchen to look for something heavy. No way she’d use her gun or a knife. Threatening her father’s men with weapons wouldn’t work. They knew she’d never use those. It sucked those guys knew she was so wimpy.

  She’d have to hit the guy.

  She hated to do it, but she was trapped. And it wasn’t like she’d be hitting someone nice. Her father’s men were bad people. She’d hit the guy just hard enough for a chance to get away. But how hard was that? She’d never hit another person in her entire life.

  She dug through cabinets and drawers, picking up a meat tenderizer to test its weight in her hand. Not nearly heavy enough.

  Where was a baseball bat when a girl needed it?

  Then she saw it. A cast-iron skillet. That’d do the trick.

  She’d wait behind the door. When the man got close enough, she’d swing. And hope for the best. She’d been a pretty decent cricket player at her boarding school in England. How different could swinging a pan be?

  It was the only plan she had, so she took her place in the hallway and tried to draw enough air into her lungs so she wouldn’t pass out.

  She waited, but then the footsteps retreated, and the car door opened and closed again. Was the guy leaving? Maybe it wasn’t one of her father’s men after all. A neighbor perhaps? Checking on the place? Her heart rate had just settled when the footsteps came back.

  Then the knob slowly turned.

  She had to do it. No choice. She couldn’t let her dad’s thugs catch her and drag her back to DC. Not yet, anyway. She lifted the heavy pan above her head and sucked in a breath for courage. She could do it.

  When the tall, blond man passed by her, she swung. The sick thud of the pan hitting something solid, and the way the bags of groceries sailed out in front of him, indicated she’d gotten in a good lick.

  The man landed facedown and went completely still. Dead still. She dropped the pan as if it were on fire. What if she’d killed him?

  She’d be no better than her father.

  What had she just done?

  Chapter Two

  Jake tried to open his eyes, to defend himself against the next blow, but couldn’t find the strength. Flowery perfume filled his senses as something cold and lumpy landed on the aching side of his head. Like frozen veggies? What the hell had just hit him and why?

  A voice whispered, “Please don’t die. Please don’t die. I’m so sorry I hit you. Please don’t die.” She lifted his head and then laid it back down on something soft.

  He opened his mouth, to ask who she was. “Whaaaa?” But it came out garbled.

  “Oh, good. You’re waking up. But you can’t tell my father you found me. I can’t let you do that. So I’m sorry I have to use this duct tape on your hands. And for smashing your phone.”

  Your father? Duct tape? What the hell? Is it Shelly from the store? No, she’d never have been able to get to the cabin first. And what about my phone? God, my head hurts.

  His hands were lifted and then wrapped together in duct tape at his wrists. He really needed to snap out of it and put an end to things. But instead, everything went black again.

  The next time he heard her voice, she was whispering, “Oh God. Please wake up. Please don’t have brain damage.” Then tapping sounded. “Hurry, WebMD, tell me what to do for this poor man I hurt.” She huffed out an exasperated breath. “Here it is. Pupils enlarged. Slurred words. Fuzzy vision. Needs ER. Got it.”

  Soft fingers lightly brushed his forehead. “I’m so sorry I hit you. What can I ever do to make it up to you? I was just trying to hide from some bad people, not become one. But you’ll probably n
ever believe me when you wake up.”

  The woman was hiding from bad people?

  Pressure on his left eye and then a blinding light brought him fully back to his senses.

  He blinked both eyes open. Focus wasn’t the best, but he could see well enough to make out a pretty redhead, with her hair in a thick French braid, kneeling by his side, shining her cell phone light at him. She wore a thin, white tank top without a bra.

  Was he in heaven? He’d always had a thing for built redheads, and, boy, this one was just his type.

  She leaned closer and whispered, “Hi. Are you okay?”

  “Urgh” was all he could manage.

  “Oh jeez. You do have brain damage. And it’s all my fault. I thought you were someone else, and then when I calmed down, I realized you had bags of groceries. Who’d bring bags of groceries to capture me? No one, that’s who. You probably live here, and now I’ve gone and damaged your brain. I’m so sorry.”

  He might’ve laughed if his head didn’t feel like it’d been run over by a garbage truck. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I’m okay,” he managed to croak out.

  He tried to sit up, but with his hands bound in front of him, he gave up and lay back down on the pillow under his head. A pillow? She couldn’t be too sinister if she’d placed a pillow under his head.

  “Thank God.” She slipped her long arms underneath him and tugged him up and into a sitting position. She was amazingly strong. “Let me help you to the couch. You can’t be comfortable on that hard floor.”

  He cringed at the thought of her touching him, but he needed her help to sit up. Then his brain took a spin around his skull. “Hang on. Give me a second here.” He closed his eyes and waited for the cabin to stop spinning. “What’s your name, Pippi?”

  She sighed. “I know. Red hair. And I’m tall and gangly like Pippi Longstocking, too. It’s why I never leave the house with a braid. But it makes it easier to comb my hair out in the mornings. Oh, and I’m Gabby. What’s your name?”

  “It’s not morning.” He opened his eyes again to be sure. Luckily, things had stopped spinning. “And it’s Jake.”

  “Well, it’s good you know the time of day, Jake. Maybe you don’t have brain damage after all. Ready now?”

  She insisted on helping him stand, but his head hurt too much to argue. When they were both fully erect, he was surprised they stood eye to eye. She was just about six feet tall, and he loved that. He’d always had a thing for tall women. “Why is your father after you?”

  Her eyes widened before she turned away and avoided his gaze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him toward the living room.

  “You said you thought I was someone else. Who came to capture you, but then you saw I had groceries. You were hiding from bad people but didn’t want to be a bad person. I heard you.”

  “No, you didn’t.” She shook her head. “You have brain damage, remember?” With his hands still bound, she helped him to the couch and laid a pillow down for him before she gently guided him onto the cushions. Then she made a peace sign. “How many fingers?”

  “Six?” he said just to be annoying. His already bad mood had just gotten worse.

  “Seriously, Jake. I might need to take you to the ER. Now, how many?”

  “How are you going to take me to the ER and not blow whatever your plan is here?” He’d obviously surprised her.

  “Well, um.” Her brow furrowed as she thought about it. “I know. I’ll drop you off and then drive away. So answer the question please.” She lifted her hand again.

  “That seems kinda rude, considering it’s like twenty-five degrees out.”

  “Please?”

  She’d asked nicely, so he said, “Two. And no need for the ER. I’ve had a concussion before, and this isn’t one.” He lifted his bound hands. “Can we take care of this?”

  “No.” She sank to the coffee table and placed a bag of frozen peas over his temple. “I’m sorry, I really am, but I can’t have you calling the police. Not until I find what I’m looking for, anyway. I won’t hurt you, I promise.”

  “You’ve already done that.” But he appreciated the cold peas.

  Tears formed in her deep-brown eyes. “I know, and I really am—”

  “Sorry. Yeah, I got that.” He was about to tell her how many laws she’d just broken when something told him he might want to play along for a bit. Find out who was chasing her and why.

  She’d been trying to make him comfortable and even been willing to take him to the ER. And binding his hands in front instead of behind had been an amateur move. She wasn’t dangerous. But he had a knife in his boot and his backup piece if he needed them.

  Pippi was in some sort of trouble, and he’d never been able to resist a damsel in distress.

  Besides, he had nothing better to do while on administrative leave, so why not help her out? “If you’re not going to let me go, then will you please go out to my truck and bring in the rest of the groceries? I’m hungry, and I really need a beer.”

  She blinked at him, and then a smile lit her face. “I saw some lasagna in the freezer. Shall I heat that up? It looked really delicious, but I didn’t want to eat it without permission.”

  Dani had made that, and it made his mouth water to think about it. She was an amazing cook. “You think stealing my lasagna would be the worst thing you did today?” She was a piece of work. But a pretty one.

  “No. I know this is wrong, but I mean well. You have to believe me.” She shook her head as she slipped into her shoes and coat. “Things weren’t supposed to get so complicated. I’ll get the groceries and your things. Be right back.”

  He called out, “Put the lasagna in the microwave first, okay? I really am starving here.”

  “Sure.” She stopped and turned around. “Did you bring any fixings to make a salad? I make a pretty mean salad.” She headed for the freezer and unwrapped the lasagna.

  “Nope. Just junk food. I don’t eat anything resembling vegetables when I’m on vacation. It’s a rule I have.” And since he hadn’t had a vacation in five years, he’d planned to take full advantage.

  “How long were you planning to stay?” She quickly looked away and then programmed the microwave.

  “You mean, how long before someone comes looking for me?” The woman was completely transparent. It was kind of cute. “Maybe the better question is, how long do you plan to keep me as your hostage? Or maybe your gigolo? I could totally clear my schedule for that.”

  “I’d never . . .” She threw her hands up, all flustered. “A few days is all. I hope. I’ll go get your things.”

  When she’d blushed, it’d made his bitter, damaged heart go pitter-pat. His detective Spidey sense told him she was a sweet woman. Just a nice person in a bad spot. And the more he teased her, the more information he was bound to get out of her. She flustered easily. “But wait, how old are you? I wouldn’t want to break any laws.”

  “Now who’s being rude?” She placed her hands on her narrow hips. “I met so many men like you in college, all handsome and . . . flirty. That stuff doesn’t work on me, Jake. I’m a serious scientist.”

  A seriously adorable scientist.

  “And I have a serious headache. Could you grab me something for the pain from that cabinet over there, darlin’?”

  She frowned at the mention of pain—or maybe it was the “darlin’” comment he’d used to fluster a professional woman like her—and quickly jogged to the cabinet. When she returned with a glass of water and the bottle of pills, she held them out.

  “My hands are a little restrained at the moment. If you still won’t let me go, then you’ll have to open that bottle.”

  “I’ll unbind your hands as soon as I get what I came for.” She sat on the coffee table again and tapped out the pills into her palm. “You won’t bite me if I lay these on your tongue, will you?” She opened her mouth, to indicate he should do the same.

  “When
I get a chance to bite you, it won’t be your fingers I’ll be after.” He opened up for her.

  Her forehead crumpled. “Are you ever serious?”

  “Rarely.”

  “Hmmm.” She leaned closer and stared intently into his eyes as if searching for something.

  It made him squirm.

  What if she saw all the damage in there? He never let anyone see that. “What?” he asked, and then let his jaw go lax again.

  “Nothing. I just had to be sure.” She smiled, then softly laid two pills on his tongue. “Your eyes are the same shade of blue as the Mediterranean Sea. It’s my favorite part of the world. Have you ever been?” She tilted the glass to his lips.

  “Nope,” he mumbled around the pills and then swallowed. “What were you looking to be sure of?”

  “To see if you’re kind. And you are. Believe me, I’ve seen the opposite. I can always tell if people are good or bad by the look in their eyes.”

  “If that were true, there’d be no serial killers. Or sociopaths.” He needed to stop before she figured out he was a cop.

  She shrugged and then rose to go outside. “Maybe those types can fool a normal person, but I’ve never been wrong. Ever.”

  Normal person?

  He pondered that as she went out to the truck to get his groceries. Gabby intrigued him. There was a quiet sadness about her. Maybe because she was afraid of her father, or the people trying to take her back to him? And she claimed to have seen evil in someone’s eyes before.

  What had she been through to make her break into a cabin in the middle of winter? And make her hit someone, when he’d bet she hated to kill even a spider?

  Looked like he had a day or two to figure that out while she found what she was looking for. And like the good detective he still was, no matter what the LT had insinuated about him, he’d get to the bottom of Gabby’s story. All he’d have to do is find the right buttons to push, and she’d crack like an egg.

  Gabby hauled in the rest of the groceries and enough liquor to stock a restaurant bar. Then she slipped out of her coat. When she looked down, she let out a quiet gasp. She’d never gotten dressed. And she wasn’t wearing a bra. No wonder he’d been staring at her chest like that earlier. She called out from the kitchen, “Be right back.”