Even when the man she wanted was married to his career.
I can put the casserole in the freezer and make it some other time, since you brought soup. Reesa nudged Delilah down the hall to the kitchen.
No, the soup will keep in the fridge. Im curious to see this casserole youve cooked up. Delilah spotted a foil-covered glass casserole dish sitting by the refrigerator. She sneaked a peek under the foil, recognizing green beans, carrots, chicken chunks and whole-kernel yellow corn, topped with cheese and fried onions. You made pantry casserole! She turned to her mother, a smile playing at her lips.
I didnt have much in the pantry, but I thought it would be nice to fix something for you. Reesas smile held a hint of apology. Maybe next time you come, Ill go shopping first and make something from scratch instead of out of cans.
Impulsively, Delilah hugged her mother. Pantry casserole is my favorite. I make it at home all the time.
Reesas thin arms tightened around Delilahs back. You do?
I do. Cant go wrong
with a casserole, Reesa finished in unison with her.
Ill go outside and get the soup. You get that in the oven and then we can talk while its cooking. Delilah let go of her mother and opened the back door. Mom, you need to start locking your door.
Nobody ever bothers me up here.
Famous last words, Delilah muttered as she stepped out onto the sleet-pebbled patio to fetch the soup.
But the paper bag was gone.
Delilah froze, scanning the area behind the house for any sign of an intruder. Visibility wasnt great, between the steady needling of sleet and the cold mist swallowing the top of the mountain. Seeing nothing out of place, she pulled out her flashlight and checked the ground around the patio table. No sign of the bag of take-out soup, but the layer of sleet on the patio had been disturbed.
She couldnt say the streaks of bare patio were definitely footstepsshe supposed it was more likely that a hungry raccoon or opossum had grabbed himself a ready-made mealbut a thin film of blood on the edge of the table was troubling enough to send her reaching for her Sig again.
Hello? she called, loudly enough that a faint echo of her voice rang back to her from deep in the woods.
No answer.
The cabin door opened behind her, making her jump. Dee Dee, is something wrong?
The soup is gone.
Oh. Reesa looked nonplussed.
Probably a raccoon or something.
Hope its not a bear. Reesa shuddered. Pam Colby said she saw a black bear in her backyard just last week, looking for a place to nest for the winter. She shooed it off by banging some pots together.
I dont think its a bear. Delilahs gaze settled on the film of blood. Im going to take a look around, okay? Ill be back in a few minutes.
Its freezing out there. Im sure it was just an animal, Dee. Why dont you come back in here where its warm? Let the raccoon have the soup. He probably needs it more than we do.
Im just going to walk the perimeter. Theres some blood on the tablemaybe its injured and needs help.
Oh, poor thing. Okay, but hurry up. The temperatures dropping like crazy out here. Theyre talking about maybe our first snow of the season. Reesa backed into the house, closing the door behind her.
Stamping her feet to get some of the feeling back into her cold toes, Delilah headed out into the yard, keeping the beam of the flashlight moving in a slow, thorough arc in front of her.
She discovered more blood, spattered on the grass in a weaving line toward the tree line. Following the trail, she spotted a white birch tree with a dark streak of red marring its papery bark about four feet up. The mark seemed to form a long fingerprint.
She paused and checked the magazine of her pistol, reassuring herself that the Sig was loaded, with a round already chambered. If her mother was right and their intruder was a bear, she didnt want to face it unarmed.
Though she listened carefully for any sounds that might reveal an animal or other intruder nearby, all she heard was the moan of the icy wind through the trees. But she felt something else there. Something living and watching, waiting for her to turn around and leave.
What would happen if she did just that? Would the watcher let her go? Or would he pounce the second she turned her back? Not caring to find out, she backed toward the clearing with slow, steady steps. She kept her eyes on the woods, trying to see past the moonless blackness outside the narrow, weakening beam of her flashlight.
Only the faintest of snapping sounds behind her gave her any warning at all.
It wasnt enough.
She hit a solid wall of heat. One large arm curled around her, pulling her flush against that heat, while a hand closed over her mouth.
Dont scream, he growled.
She didnt.
But he did.
Chapter Two
Pain gutted him, ripping its way around his wounded side and settling like liquid fire in the center of his stomach. He tried to keep his hold on her, tried to bite back the cry that tore from his throat as she slammed her elbow back into his side again.
Delilah, stop. Adam Brand stumbled backward, struggling to keep his feet as his body instinctively sought relief from her lethal limbs.
A second later, he was staring down the barrel of her Sig Sauer P229 backlit by the beam of a flashlight.
Son of a bitch! Delilah hit the last word hard and dropped the weapon and flashlight to her side, bending nearly double as if shed been the one to take the blow to the gut. You scared the hell out of me, Brand.
I think you reopened my wound, Brand shot back, his voice hoarse with pain. He pressed his hand to his side and found that the wound, which had finally started to clot, was weeping blood again.
Your wound? Delilah straightened quickly, swinging the beam of her flashlight over him, searching for his injury.
He turned his side toward her helpfully. I think it was a thirty-two. I got lucky.
In the low light of the flashlight beam, her pretty face twisted with a grimace. Lucky, huh? She plucked at his shirt, making him wince as the cotton clung to the drying blood around the bullet furrow. Where the hell have you been? The police are looking for you.
I know. Thats why I didnt knock on the door.
What did you do with my soup?
Ate it, Brand admitted. I havent had anything to eat besides what I could forage for a couple of days.
Delilahs sharp brown eyes lifted to meet his. The FBI says youre a traitor.
You know better. At least, he hoped she did. A lot of time had passed since theyd last seen each other.
People changed.
What happened? How did it get to this point? Her eyes narrowed. Does it have anything to do with the Davenport case?
Its connected, he said. But its a lot more complicated than that. He tried to hold back a shiver, but the wind at his back was too damned icy for him to stop shaking.
Delilahs brow furrowed. We need to get you inside and warmed up.
I cant go in there. Your mothers there.
You dont have a choice. If you stay out here much longer, youll go into hypothermia. Here. She took off her jacket and handed it to him.
I cant go in there. Your mothers there.
You dont have a choice. If you stay out here much longer, youll go into hypothermia. Here. She took off her jacket and handed it to him.
Brand looked at the thick denim jacket, built to hug her smaller frame. Thats not going to fit me.
She gave him an exasperated look, one hed seen a thousand times before and had feared he might never see again. Cold, hungry and hurting, he still felt a crushing need to pull her close and say all the things hed never said, to hell with his reasons for choosing the path he had. But now was no better time than the other times hed stayed silent and let the moment pass.
Wrap it around your neck to block the wind, she said flatly. I take it you dont want to be found?
The pragmatism of her question made him smile. It felt as if his face cracked into a million pieces at the effort. That would be best.
Ill make an excuse to my mother about why I have to go. Here. She dug in the pocket of her jeans and handed him a set of keys. Get in my car and lie down in the backseat. It should still be fairly warm. But dont start the engine. I dont want my mother suspicious.
She started toward the small cabin with the cheery golden light in the windows and fragrant wood smoke wafting from the chimney, moving with long, kinetic strides that reminded him of those days, so many years ago, when shed brought energy and life to his little section of the federal government.
He couldnt say she hadnt changed since that timeeight years of life had chiseled away the softness of her features, honing them to a mature, womanly beauty. And her eyes seemed, if anything, darker and more mysterious than he remembered, as if in leaving the FBI behind shed also abandoned the openness of youth.
Brand trudged over the frozen ground to the low-slung black Camaro hed seen her park just a little while earlier. At least she hadnt lost her sense of style, he thought with a weak grin as he opened the car and bent to push up the bucket seat so he could crawl into the back. Stretching out on the narrow backseat, with its console hump in the middle, he changed his mind, wishing shed grown staid enough to drive a roomy four-door sedan with a bench seat in the back.
At least inside the car he was sheltered from the biting wind and sleet, and the stinging numbness in his fingers and toes eased. For the first time in days, he closed his eyes and relaxed, enjoying the relative comfort of civilization while he could.
Sometime later, the crunch of footsteps on the ground outside jerked him out of a light doze. He tensed until the drivers-side door opened and Delilah slid into the car. Still alive? she drawled as she buckled her seat belt. Her Appalachian accent had gotten stronger during her time away, he noticed.
Barely.
Youre not bleedin on my seat, are you?
Brand grinned. No.
Who shot you? she asked.
Im not sure.
She was silent for a moment, as if deciding whether or not to believe him. Okay, who ordered you shot?
Not much got past her. I cant prove it, but the only person Ive made an enemy of lately is a man named Wayne Cortland.
Cortland. She rolled the name around in her mouth the way only a mountain girl could do. Never heard of him.
Believe me, thats by design.
She cranked the car and set the heat up to high. Warm air wafted almost immediately into the back, and he sighed with relief.
Im renting a place just down the mountain, she told him. Its a nice place, but its not far from the home of one of Bitterwood P.D.s finest.
Arent you one of Bitterwood P.D.s finest? He winced as she started down the winding mountain road, seeming to hit every bump and pothole along the way. The car fishtailed for a moment on the slick road, flinging him off the narrow seat onto the floorboard. He growled a couple of heartfelt profanities as pain knifed through his injured side.
Damn, we got really close to a drop-off that time. Delilahs voice had a jittery, amped-up quality he remembered well. Brushes with death had always left her a little giddy, as if the mere act of surviving was a wellspring of joy. Hed wondered, more than once, if she carried that same reckless abandon with her into the bedroom.
And then, one snowy night in West Virginia, hed learned the answer.
How did you know I joined the Bitterwood P.D.? she asked curiously. I just made the decision a couple of weeks ago.
He didnt try to lie on the seat again, settling for a low slump against the back of the bucket seat on the drivers side. Called Cooper Security and asked for you. Got a talkative receptionist.
Ill have to mention that to Jesse, she murmured drily. But she didnt sound angry that hed found her.
Whyd you leave? I thought you were happy there.
Her eyes met his in the rearview mirror. How would you know?
I assume you know by now that Ive been in touch with Seth.
Yeah, I know. In the mirror, her eyes narrowed. Whys that?
Because I wanted a connection to you, he thought. Aloud, he said, I thought hed be useful to the bureau. He had connections we could exploit. And when he went straight, he turned out to be a valuable asset.
He said you put him in some dangerous situations, like in Bolens Bluff. The Swains could have killed him if theyd ever found out he was working for the FBI.
I didnt expect them to kidnap Isabel Cooper and put the whole damned mountain on red alert when she got away. Brand grimaced as they hit another pothole. I havent talked to him since I had to run. Did he figure out who was targeting Rachel Davenport?
It was her stepbrother, Delilah answered after a long pause. The police arrested him a couple of weeks ago, but he died in his cell. The autopsy was inconclusive.
Cortland got to him.
You make him sound like the bogeyman.
He is, in all the ways that matter. Brand shifted position and regretted it immediately. How much farther?
Almost there. Was that a hint of sympathy in her tone? He was beginning to wonder if she had any left for him. So far shed seemed more cautious than worried.
I didnt want to drag you into this mess.
I was already in it.
They were off the mountain now, and the sleet had turned to rain, angling down from the sky in silver streaks reflecting the Camaros headlights. The steady swish of the windshield wipers and the comforting warmth of the cars heater conspired to lull him to sleep, but he struggled to keep his eyes open.
They werent safe yet.
She parked the Camaro in front of a small bungalow nestled in the woods on a dead-end road. The houses theyd passed moments earlier were no longer in view, leaving her house isolated from the rest of the world, surrounded by woods and mountains as far as the eye could see.
Long way from Georgetown, he murmured.
She turned in the seat to look at him. You have no idea.
He let her help him out of the car, forced to lean on her more than hed anticipated. She wrapped her arm around his waist, careful not to touch his gunshot wound, and eased him up the shallow set of stairs to the wraparound porch.
Im sorry, he murmured when she settled him on a brown leather sofa in the front room.