Magnum Force Man Page 8

  But apart from her own personal wants and needs, she wouldn’t, couldn’t discount his claim about the impending kidnapping for two very important reasons: the tormented look on his face when he hinted at what might happen to the boy and Claudia’s own belief in precognition.

  Her work with the REGs had left little room for doubt. Like Dr. Lasher, she’d come to accept that precognition was very much a natural human ability similar to intuition and instinct, all primal thought processes that had once been tied directly to the survival of the human species.

  Given all that, she couldn’t disregard the validity of Jack’s visions. If there was a chance, no matter how remote, that she could help save a child, then she would move heaven and earth to do so. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if another boy disappeared and she’d done nothing to stop it.

  So many ifs. So many questions.

  Growing more agitated by the moment, Claudia checked the time yet again. She’d told Jack she would wait on the viewing terrace for half an hour, but it had now been over forty-five minutes. Maybe he really wasn’t coming back. Or maybe he’d misunderstood their rendezvous point and he was waiting for her at the car.

  As Claudia took another look around, she caught sight of a man coming through the columns onto the terrace. His size captured her attention first. He looked behemoth, well over six-three with broad shoulders buried beneath a sleek, black parka. He wore the hood pulled down low over his face and though he had his head turned away, Claudia could see a bit of his profile.

  The shock of recognition was like a physical blow. She’d seen that face before—just a devastating glimpse—as the elevator doors slid closed at the laboratory mere moments before she’d found Dr. Lasher’s body.

  And now his killer had found her.

  Hide!

  Claudia reacted to her nightmarish terror with pure instinct and adrenaline. She dove behind one of the huge pillars and pressed her back into the stone. Closing her eyes, she gasped for breath as she tried to control her thundering heartbeat.

  No, no, no!

  It couldn’t be.

  She’d dreamed of and dreaded this moment for two long years. Every night when she closed her eyes, she saw that face in her sleep. Each time she went out in public, she kept watch behind her back and around every street corner for that terrifying visage.

  And now there he was…

  So very close…

  Had he seen her? She didn’t think so. His head had been turned away. And anyway, her hair was longer now and she had on sunglasses. To her eyes, the reflection she saw in the mirror these days barely resembled the short-haired, intense research assistant she’d long left behind in Chicago.

  But there had to be a reason he’d turned up so fortuitously on the terrace. Someone must have tipped him off. Someone like Jack Maddox.

  I need you to trust me.

  Trust you, my ass, Claudia thought bitterly.

  To think that she’d come so close to doing exactly that. This was a big wake-up call. If ever she’d needed a reminder that she should place faith in no one but herself, this was it. Betrayal was a real bitch.

  But after a moment of shock and fright, reason began to seep back in. Maybe it wasn’t even the same man. Maybe she’d only imagined the similarity. After all, she hadn’t even gotten a good look at his face—now or two years ago. In all likelihood, he was just some tourist who’d happened along at a time when her defenses were already on high alert. That had to be it. She’d once again let her imagination get the better of her.

  Claudia braced herself for another look. Easing along the width of the column, she glanced around the edge, her gaze sweeping over the terrace. She saw him at once. His size made him easy to pick out in a crowd, and her eyes went straight to the black parka as if he were wearing a homing device.

  He stood at the wall with a pair of binoculars, but rather than gazing toward the mist-shrouded monument, he’d trained the lenses downward, as if he were searching along the trails.

  For her?

  Okay, no conclusion-jumping, Claudia warned herself. She had to be careful not to let her imagination incite irrational fear. Panic would do her no good. She had to stay calm and in control even though her heart was beating in her throat.

  Lots of people brought binoculars to Mount Rushmore. No big deal. It didn’t mean anything.

  Biting her lips together to keep them from trembling, Claudia watched him from her hiding place. As he continued to comb the countryside, he took out a cell phone and lifted it to his ear. When he turned slightly, she caught another glimpse of his profile before she jerked back and flattened herself against the stone column.

  Easy. No cause for alarm just because he’s talking on a cell phone.

  But in spite of her resolve, Claudia was panicking. Big time.

  Maybe she’d seen the man before, maybe she hadn’t. Maybe he was Dr. Lasher’s killer and maybe he wasn’t. She couldn’t afford to take any chances. If she’d learned anything since she’d gone into hiding it was to listen to her internal warning system. Something about the man on the terrace had set off all kinds of bells, and now she had to figure out what to do.

  If she tried to exit through the Hall of Flags, he might spot her. But she couldn’t stay where she was indefinitely. She was an easy target on the terrace.

  She cast about frantically for a means of escape. The steps that led down to the trails were off to her right. To get to them, she’d be out in the open for a couple of seconds, completely exposed, but if she kept her head and timed it just so…

  Inching around the column, she took another quick peek. The man was heading straight for her!

  She flinched back, flattening herself against the wall, sick with fear. Even head on, she hadn’t been able to see his features clearly because the hood of his parka was pulled so low over his face and his head was bowed.

  Claudia wished she could see his hair. The man in the elevator had been a redhead, and he’d had the most piercing blue eyes she’d ever looked into. He’d been smiling, too, as if he’d found his brutal encounter with Dr. Lasher quite pleasant.

  She shivered as she remembered that smile, those eyes, that hair.

  All that blood.

  She itched to steal another glance, but she didn’t dare. If the sun had been shining, she might have been able to gauge his approach by his looming shadow, but the day was too overcast and she couldn’t tell how close he was.

  Cocking her head, she listened for his footsteps. They were almost upon her before she heard them. And then the sound of his voice caused her to jump.

  She pressed a hand to her mouth to suppress an involuntary gasp. But he wasn’t talking to her. He was still on the phone, speaking in a hushed voice, as if wary of being overheard. Claudia couldn’t make out the words, nor could she tell anything from his tone. All she knew was that he was very close. He came to a stop right beside the column where she was hidden. Another step and he would have seen her for sure.

  Her shoulder blades were taut with terror as she pressed herself even harder into the stone and slid around to the other side. She still wanted to believe that she was overreacting. Prayed that she was seeing things. But better safe than sorry, always.

  The man remained beside the column for a moment or two before he moved away. Only when his voice and footsteps faded did Claudia dare sneak another look. He was nowhere in sight.

  Frantically, she scanned the terrace. He wasn’t there.

  Her gaze moved to the Hall of Flags. Had he left the same way he’d come in? Had he ducked into the gift shop or food center, maybe?

  She couldn’t wait around to find out. Surveying the terrace one last time, she dashed toward the stairs.

  Winged by fear, she tore down the trail, slipping and stumbling in her haste and glancing over her shoulder for any sign of pursuit.

  When she’d been to the monument in warmer weather, the trails had been crowded with visitors, making it easier to blend in. Today that wasn’t
the case and she was grateful for the fog as camouflage. It was nearly waist-high in places, sliding down from the hills like a slow-moving avalanche. Even through binoculars, she would be hard to spot.

  At the sound of a snapping twig, she stopped dead, gripped by a paralyzing fear. She was so spooked by this time, she barely managed to suppress the scream that rose to her throat a mere split second before Jack appeared like a phantom beside her.

  Claudia didn’t utter a word, but he must have seen the terror on her face. He was around her in a flash, putting himself between her and the trail back to the terrace. The trained reaction was so incongruent to her previous thoughts of betrayal that she couldn’t quite process it. Couldn’t quite come to terms with the relief that rushed through her.

  “Something’s happened.” His gaze inspected the scenery around them, then came quickly back to her. “What is it?”

  Did she dare trust him?

  All she had to go on were her instincts, and for whatever reason, he had never set off the same kind of alarm bells as the man on the terrace. Claudia had to believe that meant something, as did the sheer joy she felt at the very sight of him. And he did seem more than willing to put himself between her and danger. That in itself was pretty overwhelming.

  “I saw a man on the viewing terrace just now,” she said in a breathless rush. “He looked like someone from my past.”

  Jack’s body seemed to tense, like an arrow pulled from a tautly strung bow, and he appeared taller than ever. Claudia suddenly had a mental image of a face-off between him and the man on the terrace. Jack would be outsized, but at that moment, she would put money on lean, supple quickness over sheer bulk. But maybe that was because she really did believe in fairy tales. Or desperately wanted to.

  “Who is he?” Jack’s voice was deep, rough, edged with anger.

  Claudia forced the tell-tale quiver from her own throat. “It was probably nothing, just my imagination—”

  “But you’re afraid of him.” A statement not a question.

  “If he’s who I think he is, yes. But like I said, I may be overreacting. Seeing things or whatever. It’s just…I don’t know for sure. And I can’t take a chance on being seen. I have to get out of here somehow. But if we go back the way we came, he could be waiting for me.”

  “Then we’ll find another way back to the car.” Jack stepped off the trail and took her hand to pull her up beside him. “You don’t need to worry. I won’t let that man hurt you. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

  Claudia tried to muster up some confidence. “I’d like to believe you, but if that man is from my past, you have no idea what we’re up against.”

  “Neither does he,” Jack said.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Skirting the trail and most of the crowds, they finally made it back to the parking garage without incident, but it wasn’t until they were well away from the monument that either of them relaxed. And even then, Claudia had very little to say.

  Jack desperately needed to know about the man she’d seen on the terrace, but he didn’t press her to talk. If he had any chance at all of gaining her trust, he couldn’t overplay his hand. He may have won a slim battle back on the trail, but he knew she still had doubts. Who could blame her? He had no memory of who he really was or where he’d come from. All he knew for sure was that she was in danger. They both were. And if they didn’t find the boy in time, he would end up like Jack.

  He closed his eyes, hearing his tormenter’s voice.

  Your abilities have been maximized to the fullest. There’s no going back. Ever.

  He tried to shove the taunt to the farthest reaches of his mind as he turned to stare out the window. The hills were black with evergreens, the valleys swathed in swirling mist. If he lowered the window, he would be able to smell pine, moss and dying leaves. The scent of winter. Already, he could feel the chill in his bones as he watched the drift of a lone hawk against the slate sky.

  Such a strange countryside, he thought.

  This place was not his home. He somehow knew that. And yet the shadowed gorges and thick bands of firs called forth something primal within him. Something was welling inside him, a ferocious call to arms that he didn’t fully understand.

  He glanced down at his hands, turned them over, studying the lines and creases in his palms. He could kill with those hands to survive. He knew that. He would kill to save Claudia. He knew that, too.

  He couldn’t explain the bond between them any more than he could deny it. They were connected. He accepted it without question. And he would do whatever it took to keep her safe, even sacrifice his own life. Not out of a false sense of heroics, but because he could do nothing else. She was the reason he was here. She was the reason he was.

  He turned to examine her profile and her answering gaze was tentative. “What?”

  “I need to know about the man you saw back at the faces. Why were you so afraid of him?”

  A tiny pulse beat at her temple. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I don’t like thinking about my past. And because…” She trailed off and bit her lip. “Just because.”

  “You still don’t trust me.”

  She shrugged. “No, I do. Sort of.”

  “I came here to save you,” he said.

  She gave him an unhappy look. “So you keep reminding me. But just because you say it enough times doesn’t mean I’m actually going to believe you. I mean, come on. This whole situation is a bit…”

  He waited.

  “Crazy.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  She spared another glance. “Who wouldn’t say that?”

  “Claudia.”

  Reluctantly, she looked at him. “Yeah?”

  “Put aside everything else for a moment. Just tell me about this man.”

  She sighed in frustration. “Why can’t you just leave it alone for now? We can talk about it later.”

  “We need to talk about it now. There may not be a lot of time left.”

  “Oh, well, that makes me feel ever so much better.” She grimaced, then shot him a frustrated glance. “Look, this is hard for me. You just show up out of the blue and expect me to drop all my defenses when, for all I know, you were the one who told that man we’d be at the monument today.”

  He lifted a brow. “When would I have done that?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe you’re also a telepath.” She cracked a weak smile, but Jack didn’t see anything funny about the suggestion.

  “I’m not a telepath.”

  “Don’t be so literal. It was a joke, okay? Although sometimes you do seem like you can read my mind. It creeps me out if you want to know the truth.”

  “I wish I could read your thoughts right now,” he said. “Because I really need to know if the man you saw today is the one who’s been tracking you.”

  “Tracking me? Good God, when you put it that way…” He saw her shudder, then her voice cracked and grew suspicious. “How do you know someone is tracking me?”

  “You live alone in the woods,” he said. “And your cabin is isolated. It’s not hard to figure out that you’re hiding from something. Or someone. And I know you’re in danger.”

  “Yes, but how do you know that?” She sounded almost angry. “You never explained it to me. Did you have some sort of vision about me like you did the boy? Is that how you tracked me down?”

  He turned away for a moment as the image of her death flashed through his head. He replayed in his mind that split second when their gazes clung before she plummeted backward over the cliff.

  “I won’t let that happen,” he said.

  “What?” When he didn’t answer, she said impatiently, “Tell me about the vision. What did you see?”

  “You’re in danger. That’s all I know. That’s all I need to know. And all you need to know is that I’ll do whatever I have to do to protect you.”

  “Why?” she demanded. Her knuckles whitened where
she gripped the steering wheel. “Why do you care what happens to me?”

  He was at a loss to explain. “Because…I don’t have a choice.”

  “Everyone has a choice. Why should you care whether I live or die? I’m just some stranger to you.”

  “You’re not a stranger.”

  “I was until last night. You’d never laid eyes on me before then.”

  “But I know you just the same.”

  “How? Through your visions?”

  He grew pensive, searching for his own answers. “Yes. And that’s why I need to know about the man you saw on the viewing terrace. Why won’t you tell me who he is and why you’re so afraid of him?”

  She was very still for a moment. “You don’t understand. I’ve been on my own for a long time. I’ve had to learn to take care of myself. Putting my trust in someone else is probably just about the dumbest thing I could do.”

  “Or the smartest.”

  “Maybe.” She slanted a look. “But I guess that all depends on whether you turn out to be the good guy or the bad guy.”

  He glanced down at his hands. “Maybe I’m a little of both,” he muttered.

  “Yeah, and that’s what worries me most of all, that you don’t even know.”

  He looked up and their gazes clung for a moment before she trained her eyes back on the road.

  She gestured helplessly with one hand. “I admit, there’s a part of me that wants to trust you. I’m not sure why, but it’s there. Then I think about the whole situation. The amnesia and all that. You have no idea who you are or where you came from. Or who you might work for. Under the circumstances…” Another helpless flutter. “See my dilemma?”

  “Yes. But it doesn’t have to be that hard. All you have to do is listen to your instincts. If you can’t trust me, trust yourself. That may be the only thing that will save your life.”