The Survivor Read online

  Things he’d just realized he’d taken for granted…because the woman sitting next to him hadn’t known any of that. He was suddenly hit with the urge to take her over to his parents’ house and share his family, to let her be a part of it so that she wouldn’t be lonely, so that she’d know what it was like to be surrounded by affection.

  They’d love her, Lex thought. And if he wasn’t damned careful, they weren’t going to be the only ones.

  WONDERFUL, BESS THOUGHT. She’d gone from being desired to being pitied. He hadn’t had to say a word, but she could sense it all the same. She saw his mouth turn down, watched him silently lament the fact that she didn’t have any other family and that she’d lost everyone close to her. Yes, it was true. Yes, she was essentially alone. But she’d learned to be okay with that—this was the hand she’d been dealt and she had no choice but to play it.

  But she wasn’t going to play it lying down, as it were, and she wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to spend at least one more night with him, not if she could help it. Even though she imagined he would say no, she’d decided to take a chance and ask him to spend the night with her. At her house. Where she’d never invited anyone. She didn’t want to be poor, pitiful Bess. She wanted to be smart, witty, sexy Bess, the one he couldn’t keep his hands off, even when he was asleep.

  “I was thinking,” Bess ventured.

  He chuckled. “That sounds dangerous. About what?”

  “Well, we’re relatively certain we’re about to nab our guy, right?”

  “With any luck, yes.” He grinned at her. “And I’m feeling pretty damned lucky.”

  “And it’s about a four-hour drive back to Marietta, which will get us back into town late this afternoon.”

  He nodded slowly. “Right.”

  She was suddenly nervous, ridiculously so considering what they’d done to and with each other last night. “So, rather than you heading back to Atlanta tonight, I was hoping we could celebrate. At my house. Over dinner.”

  He stilled, then a slow smile slid over his wicked mouth. “Does that tub on your back porch feature in any aspect of our celebration?”

  She grinned, leaned over and kissed his cheek, lingering long enough to breathe him in. “Definitely.”

  He chuckled low. “Then I’m in.”

  She hesitated, also wanting to set something else straight so that there wouldn’t be any awkwardness between them come the morning. “Listen, Lex…”

  “That sounds ominous,” he said. “Do I really want to listen?”

  “I think so,” she said. “This morning, I think things felt a little off between us and I just want you to know that I know that you’ve just moved here and started this job.” She hesitated. She wasn’t quite sure how to finish. “I imagine that you don’t have any more time for something serious than I do, and I need you to know that I am not expecting anything beyond a little mutually enjoyable…fun.”

  A strange expression passed over his face—regret maybe?—but it was gone before she could truly discern it. He laughed, but the sound was forced. “Are you telling me that you want to use me for sex and send me packing in the morning? That you’re only interested in my body and not my mind? That you want a no-strings relationship that’s going to flare up and burn out with no regrets, no formal attachment, no expectations?”

  She considered a moment. Did she want that? Truly want that? No…but it was the most she was willing to let herself have. “That’s right,” she said haltingly, not sure what to make of him.

  He gave a delicate shudder and then smiled. “I feel kind of dirty.”

  She laughed, relieved. “I’ll wash that off of you…in my tub.”

  He reached over and took her hand, threading his fingers through hers. Her stomach gave a little jump and her pulse leaped in her veins. “I like the sound of that,” he said. “Is there room enough for two?”

  “Definitely.”

  He nodded, seemingly pleased, though a shadow still hung around his eyes and she couldn’t help but wonder if it was because she’d preempted him by giving him the out. She couldn’t imagine that was the case, but hell, who knew? She was fairly certain that, like her, he knew that this—whatever it was between them—wasn’t going to have a chance to really go anywhere, but she sensed that, also like her, he almost regretted that.

  She smiled softly, more pleased than was truly reasonable.

  “You’re smiling again,” he noted, shooting her a grim look. “Should I be worried?”

  “You worry when I smile?”

  “It means you’re thinking,” he explained.

  “And that scares you?”

  He chuckled. “More than you know.”

  She could so get used to this, Bess thought. She could get used to being with him like this, listening to him laugh, the easy camaraderie between them.

  “Vernon said to park in the back,” Bess told him as he wheeled the car into the drive. She felt a shiver run through her when she realized what they were about to do, but it was a shiver of anticipation and not fear. She wasn’t afraid of this asshole, she just wanted to take him down, to make him stop messing with her clients.

  He nodded, then slowed the car so that she could get out and let Vernon know they were there. “I’ll be right in,” he told her.

  Having heard them pull up, Vernon opened the door for her. “Ms. Bess, how are you doing? Come on in,” he said, smiling warmly at her. “Come on in outta that cold.”

  She hugged him. “Thanks, Vernon. I appreciate you letting us do this. Lex is hiding the car around back.”

  “Not a problem, Ms. Bess. Just glad I could be of help.” He poured her a cup of coffee and offered her a seat. “Any luck finding that Wicked Bible?”

  “Not yet,” she admitted on a sigh. In truth, she’d been more worried about finding Harold Yeager than the Bible, but she supposed she’d have more time to do that once they’d safely transported Harold to jail. Lex had called Brian this morning and given him Yeager’s address, and he assured her that Payne would make certain that any copies of her hard drive were destroyed so that Yeager couldn’t simply post bail and then go back to work tracing the Bible.

  “Shame,” Vernon remarked. “I bet whoever has it can put that money to good use.”

  “I’m sure,” she agreed. A moment later, Lex knocked on the door and poked his head inside. Vernon gestured for him to come in, as well—Honey with him, as usual—and handed him a cup of coffee. “Cream and sugar are on the table, young man. Feel free to help yourself.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Lex said.

  “That’s a fine animal you’ve got there,” Vernon remarked. “Loyal, isn’t she?”

  Lex grinned. “Very much so.”

  “I had a dog when I came back from WWII,” Vernon said, looking reflective. “I wasn’t fit for human company, but my Jack got me through it. He was a German shepherd. Beautiful animal.” He jerked his head toward the rear of the house. “He’s buried back there. I had him for fifteen years before the cancer got him.”

  “I’m sorry,” Lex said, looking a bit odd. Thoughtful, even.

  “You were in the service?” Vernon asked.

  Lex grinned. “That obvious, is it?”

  “A soldier always recognizes another soldier,” he said with a smile. “You see action?”

  “I did,” Lex admitted. “Took four hits to the shoulder. Messed me up pretty good.”

  Vernon nodded. “You medic out?”

  “It was that or drive a desk all day,” Lex told him.

  Bess was finding this conversation utterly fascinating. She hadn’t been able to get Lex to say a word about his military career and yet Vernon didn’t seem to have a problem posing the questions or getting him to answer. Probably because he’d been in the military, as well. Probably because Vernon understood things about that experience that Bess would never be able to.

  Vernon grimaced. “Who wants to drive a desk for Uncle Sam? You can do that at home and see your family, no
t risk your life,” he added, chuckling. He paused. “Four rounds into the shoulder, eh? Hit any arteries?”

  Lex nodded, carefully swallowing another sip of coffee.

  Vernon winced. “A close call then,” he said, then gestured toward Honey. “No wonder she’s so protective of you. Animals have a sense about stuff like that, you know? My Jack certainly did.”

  You came close, didn’t you? Elsie had said. Bess inwardly gasped and her gaze darted to Lex, who was carefully avoiding looking at her. Four hits to the shoulder? An artery? She saved me? My God, Bess thought. He’d nearly died. Her heart kicked into overdrive and gave a panicked squeeze when she considered what had almost happened to him. When she considered that she’d almost never met him, that he would have never come into her life.

  She was breathing too hard, Bess realized, feeling close to hyperventilating. Abruptly she stood and excused herself to the bathroom.

  Lex did look at her then, his intriguing blue eyes concerned.

  “My biscuit didn’t agree with me,” she lied, then hurried out of the room. She felt physically ill, ready to vomit, and her hands wouldn’t stop shaking. She stared at her chalky reflection for a moment, then splashed water on her face in an effort to try and keep the tears at bay. Tears? For someone she’d known a day? Someone who wasn’t even supposed to be that important to her?

  He’d nearly died.

  And she was already so invested in him—in his life—that she was falling apart.

  Lord help her.

  11

  VERNON WATCHED BESS DART OUT of the room and winced. He sent Lex an apologetic look. “Poor thing. She gets a mite squirrely when you start talking about dying.”

  “Oh?” Lex remarked, intrigued by her reaction. He hadn’t exactly liked talking about his near-death experience in front of her—hadn’t talked to anyone much about it at all—but Vernon’s matter-of-fact approach had somehow made it easier to share. Probably because the old man was a vet himself and had been through a similar experience. It would have felt disrespectful not to answer his questions.

  Furthermore, Vernon’s story about Jack, his faithful German shepherd, had given him the purpose he’d been looking for. One moment he’d been sitting here enjoying a good cup of coffee, the next he’d seen his new direction roll out in front of him, one that would allow him to keep his job with Ranger Security, but still be doing something else worthwhile. If Honey had been good for him as a wounded returning soldier and old Jack had been good for Vernon, then there had to be animals that would fill that same purpose for other veterans. Animals that were desperately in need of homes, soldiers who were desperately in need of unconditional love. It was the perfect solution, a beautiful idea, and he was utterly psyched and energized it.

  “Yeah,” the old man said, looking thoughtful. “I’ve known her grandfather for a long time, and that little girl has seen more tragedy in her life than what a body ought to have to bear.”

  Lex leaned forward and winced, silently encouraging Vernon to go on.

  “Her daddy was killed in a car wreck when she was seven,” the old man said. “That was her granddaddy’s boy, mind. Her mother, evidently overcome with grief, committed suicide a year to the day later.” He winced. “Terrible stuff.”

  Lex inwardly swore. No wonder she was “squirrelly about death” as Vernon had so delicately put it. Losing both parents—one to an accident, one deliberate—by the time she was eight.

  “Her granddaddy used to bring her over here,” he said. “Little slip of a thing, those big eyes in that small face. She didn’t talk for about a year after her momma’s death, but with some coaxing she finally come along.” He smiled. “And she’s grown into a lovely girl. Has a good heart, that one. A heart for the world and everything in it. She sees the good in everything, the value in everything. Nothing is worthless to her.” Vernon suddenly grinned. “Even a washed-up old creakin’-bones soldier like me.”

  At that exact moment, Bess walked back into the room. She’d pushed her hair away from her face, but the ends were wet, presumably where she’d splashed water to combat nausea. He knew what that was like, Lex thought.

  “You okay?” he asked, wanting to stand up and put his arms around her. But somehow he didn’t think she’d appreciate it at the moment. Not in front of Vernon at any rate.

  She nodded. “Just got a little sick to my stomach,” she said, her smile wobbly and too bright. “I’m fine now.”

  “That’s good,” Vernon said, his ears perking up. “Because unless I’m mistaken, that’s a Firebird rumbling down my drive.”

  All senses suddenly on point, Lex stood and moved to the kitchen window. “That’s him,” he said, adrenaline pumping instantly into his system.

  “You got a plan, young man?” Vernon wanted to know.

  He nodded. “You just get him through that door,” Lex told him. “And I’ll take care of the rest.” He looked to Bess. “You stay where you are. I want him looking at you. That way I’ll have the element of surprise.”

  She nodded, her lips curling slightly. “So I’m bait?”

  He chewed the inside of his cheek. “Something like that, yes.”

  She merely shrugged and settled more firmly against her chair. Thankfully the table was between her and the door, so there was a bit of protection there. Lex heard the engine die and quietly moved behind the door. Every nerve ending was stretched tight with tension. He rested on the balls of his feet, ready for action.

  A knock at the door, then Vernon ambled over. “Yes? Can I help you?”

  “Good morning, sir. My name is John Smith and I’m a friend of Bess Cantrell’s from Bygone’s Antiques over in Marietta, Georgia.”

  From his vantage point behind the door, Lex watched Bess’s jaw grow tight as she ground her teeth together.

  “Yes, sir, I know Bess,” Vernon told him, playing his part to perfection. “How is she doing?”

  “She’s fine, sir. Just fine. I’m working with her now and am canvassing some of her clients for old books. She’s expanding into the rare book market and I wondered if you had anything that would fit that description.”

  He would have been convincing if most of Bess’s clients didn’t know her so well. But these were relationships forged by her grandfather and then later built upon by Bess. Most of the people she visited for their “rusty treasure” had watched her grow up. Mr. Yeager here was just too stupid to know it.

  Vernon pretended to be thoughtful for a moment. “You know, young man, I think I do have some old books stored back in my spare bedroom.” He opened the door wider. “You come on in and take a look at what I’ve got, since Bess sent you.”

  Three seconds later, the opportunity presented itself. Yeager stepped deep enough into the kitchen for Lex to strike. One well-placed blow sent the man tumbling to the floor, and before he could struggle or retaliate, Lex had his knee in the small of his back and his arms twisted behind him and cuffed.

  “What the hell—”

  Lex hauled him to his feet and Bess walked over and stared at him. “Do you know who I am?” she asked.

  “Am I supposed to?”

  “Bess Cantrell,” she said. “And you are no associate of mine.” Then to Lex’s surprise, she drew her fist back and planted a solid blow directly into Yeager’s soft gut. “That was for Stanley Lawson,” she said. Her gaze met Lex’s. “I can’t abide a bully.”

  Honey growled at Yeager, baring her teeth, and Yeager attempted to kick out and land a blow against the dog. White-hot anger bolted through Lex and he jerked Yeager’s arms up. The action wrenched his own shoulder, making him wince with pain. “Watch yourself,” he said. “You’re already in enough trouble.”

  Vernon opened the door again and Lex frog-marched their prisoner to the car.

  “What are we going to do with him?” Bess asked. “We can’t put him in the backseat with Honey.”

  Lex opened the hatch, then tumbled their prisoner into the back. Before Yeager could orient himself, Lex p
ulled a big nylon zip tie from his back pocket and secured it tightly around the man’s ankles.

  “Hey, that hurts!” Yeager yelped. “You can’t leave me back here. Kidnappers! Kidnappers!”

  Lex unrolled a long strip of duct tape and tore the end with dramatic flourish before slapping it hard over their prisoner’s mouth.

  Bess grinned, then leaned over. “Strictly speaking,” she asked as aside, “is this legal?”

  “It’s a citizen’s arrest,” Lex said. “So in the loosest interpretation of the law, yes.”

  She nodded, seemingly good with that.

  They double-checked the cargo area to make sure there was nothing there that he could use to free himself, then patted him down and removed his keys and wallet and cell phone.

  Lex eyed the cell phone and made a mental note to go through it to make sure they weren’t missing anything important. He did a quick sweep of the car and found a laptop computer and printout of Bess’s client list with little lines drawn through the names of the people he’d already seen. Interestingly enough, he’d divided the map into two sections, the north and the south.

  “Bess, you haven’t had any calls from clients north of the city, right?”

  She looked at the map, a furrow etched between her brows. “No,” she said. “Every call has been along his path here.”

  “My spidey sense is tingling,” he said, staring at the map.

  “You think he might not have been working alone?”

  “I don’t know. Every indication is no, but this map…” He shrugged. “It does make me wonder. Why divide it into two sections?”

  “If you ask him he’s just going to lie,” Bess said.