Beholden (32 page)

And the chase was on, Luke reaching for her and missing by a scant inch as she skidded away. He increased his stride and watched
her feint left, then run to the right, her laughter ringing out in the clean mountain air. “When I catch you, you’re going
to eat snow, young lady,” he called out.

Moments later, she lost her footing and went down in a belly flop. He dived for her, landing alongside, then flipped her over.
She giggled up at him, defiant to the end. He held up a snowball threateningly. “Say you’re sorry or this is it.”

“Never,” she said.

Beautiful. She looked so damn beautiful that he forgot all about wanting to shove snow in her face. Instead, he dropped the
snowball and removed her sunglasses. The laughter left her and her features softened as awareness registered. He lowered his
mouth to hers, erasing all remnants of her smile.

Terry had seen his eyes change and knew moments before he did exactly what he was going to do. She felt her heart constrict
at the rush of desire that made her feel boneless. He deepened the kiss and just before her mind went blank, she wondered
if she could ever get enough of this man. They didn’t see eye to eye on so many things, yet her need for him always took over.
Lost in him, she gave herself up to the wondrous feelings.

Quicksand. He wasn’t in snow, but rather quicksand, and going down for the third time, Luke thought. She was dragging him
down more each time they kissed, snaring him more surely each time they made love. And yet it was he who instigated each new
bout, he who couldn’t stop reaching for her. He shifted the angle, tasting the by-now-familiar sweetness of her mouth, becoming
more demanding.

He knew his body had to be heavy on hers, yet she only drew him closer. He forgot the cold, the wind picking up and dusting
them with a light powdering, the dampness that had crept into his ill-fitting boots. He forgot everything but this
minute, this woman in his arms, in his blood. He forgot it all and took from her.

Then he heard the unmistakable sound of a car engine slowly climbing up their snow-covered road.

Terry had never seen Luke move so fast, not even when he’d been running after her on the streets of San Jose. He scrambled
to his feet, pulled her up and got her inside the house in what seemed like two heartbeats. “Go into the bedroom,” he ordered
as he grabbed his Luger from the mantel.

“No.” If she heard shots, she didn’t want to wonder who’d dropped and who’d been left standing. “I’ll stay down and out of
the way, but I won’t leave you.”

Swearing silently, he didn’t want to take the time to argue with her. He pulled the heavy drape closed across the front window,
then stationed himself at one corner, his Luger cocked, his .38 in his waistband.

“How could someone have gotten past that heavy iron gate?”

“The lock’s broken.” Not that any lock would keep out someone truly determined. Chances were this was nothing since he was
certain that neither Ozzie Swain nor Nick Russo would be dumb enough to drive up to a cabin they suspected Terry to be hiding
in in broad daylight, with the car engine announcing their arrival. Sneak attacks were more their style. Still, he doubted
if it was someone out for a
Sunday drive in this weather, either. Eyes narrowed, he waited for the vehicle to come into his line of vision.

In minutes, the nose of a late-model, four-wheel-drive Ford Explorer came bounding over the snowy path. Earlier, he’d brushed
the snow off his van and now watched the Explorer pull in behind it, bold as you please. He relaxed fractionally, thinking
this had all the earmarks of an innocent visit. When the driver’s door opened and a tall man wearing a black leather jacket
similar to his own stepped out, he was sure of it. “Sonofabitch,” Luke muttered, setting the safety on the Luger and opening
the front door.

“Who is it?” Terry asked, peering around the archway.

“Bob Jones,” Luke said, stepping out onto the porch.

Relief had her sagging against the wall. “Thank goodness. I’m going to get out of these wet things.”

Luke squinted into the sun bouncing off the snow as Bob slammed the door of the Explorer. “You could have called and warned
me you were coming. I damn near blew your head off.”

Jones saw the Luger dangling from Luke’s right hand. A warning was exactly what he’d hoped to avoid. He’d wanted the element
of surprise on his side. The last couple of conversations he’d had with Luke had set him to worrying. He’d come ostensibly
for another purpose, but also to see just what in hell was going on with his best agent.

“Sorry about that, but I only got word this morning that Dr. Ward was available.” Bob glanced toward the Explorer and saw
that the doctor was walking around the vehicle somewhat gingerly, holding on, afraid of falling in the slippery snow. He also
glanced over at a very large snowman wearing a jaunty black cap. Interesting.

Frowning, Luke tried to remember who Dr. Ward was. He waited until both men made it to the porch.

Carrying his briefcase, Bob stomped the snow from his shoes. “Luke, this is Dr. Rufus Ward. You may recall he’s the certified
hypnotist we use occasionally. I thought maybe Dr.
Ward could free Terry’s mind and she might be able to tell us something more. Doctor, you may already have met Senior Agent
Luke Tanner.”

“Yes, we’ve met,” Dr. Ward said. “Five or six years ago, I believe.”

Dr. Ward was short and more than a little portly, with a thick white mustache and coal black hair, a startling combination.
Rimless glasses sat on his wide nose. Luke vaguely remembered seeing the face before. He shook hands. “Good to see you again.”
He said it, but he didn’t mean it. In fact, he wished neither of them had shown up.

But neither would have guessed from his closed expression as he ushered them inside where a fire was burning. “Make yourselves
comfortable,” he said, taking their coats and removing his own jacket. He bent to throw another log on the fire. “That must
have been quite a drive up.”

Dr. Ward sat down in the easy chair at an angle to the fireplace, but Jones opted to stand, rubbing his hands together. “It
wasn’t bad on the highway. It was plowed and sprinkled with gravel. But after we turned off, it was damn scary. I was sure
glad the rental company insisted on chains.”

Buying time, Luke used the poker to stir up the logs. “You flew into Reno?”

“Yes, that’s the closest route in.”

Luke straightened. “You’ve got a real nice place here.”

“Laura and the boys love it up here. I wish I had more time to get away. It’s a great change from Arizona’s heat.” His eyes
roamed the room, looking for he knew not what. Some clue, something that would convince him that Luke was as he’d always been.
“Where’s Terry?”

“Changing clothes. We were out in the snow.” He offered no further explanation. Damn, he didn’t need this visit right now.

“I’m right here, Deputy Jones,” Terry answered, coming out from the bedroom. She was wearing the kelly green silk blouse and
the cream-colored wool slacks, her hair softly
curled, her skin glowing, and the two small scars scarcely noticeable. On her feet were the furry moccasins. She walked over
to the fireplace, giving Bob a shy smile.

Jones wasn’t a smiler, as such, but he smiled down at her. “I must say, Terry, you look much, much better than the last time
I saw you.” That had been in a Phoenix hospital and she’d been bandaged and hooked up to all manner of tubes and machines.

“I
feel
much better.” She turned to the man who’d risen from the chair while Jones introduced them. “Nice to meet you, Dr. Ward,”
she said, while she silently wondered what kind of a doctor the shorter man was. Surely Jones hadn’t brought a plastic surgeon
here to try yet again to talk her into surgery.

Sensing her sudden unspoken unease, Luke hurried to explain. “Dr. Ward’s a hypnotist who’s helped us out on occasion. Bob
thinks you may have seen something that night in the garage that’s buried in your subconscious.”

Jones, too, recognized her hesitation. “Only if you want to, Terry, but I’d like you to help us out by allowing Dr. Ward to
hypnotize you. The most insignificant fact might be a case breaker, and we still don’t know the identity of that fourth man
in the car.”

Terry looked up at Luke and caught his almost-imperceptible nod. “All right, if you think I can help.” She relaxed then, once
more assured Luke wouldn’t let harm come to her. “But first, let me put together some lunch. It’s nearly noon and you must
have set out pretty early.”

“That would be nice of you,” Jones said, strolling over to admire the small carved animals on the mantel. The drawing at the
far end caught his eye and he moved over for a closer look. It was Luke most certainly, drawn by a talented hand. He’d made
it a point to look up some of Terry’s political cartoons in back issues of the
Phoenix Gazette
. She had a distinctive style. He turned to look at his old friend, wondering when she’d sketched him.

Luke wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I think I’ll change out of these wet pants. Enjoy the fire.” He went into the bedroom.

Watching him go, Jones noted that it was the same bedroom that Terry had come out of after freshening up. Of course, he knew
there were two bedrooms, yet they were apparently sharing one. So that’s how it was. His instincts had been on target, Bob
thought, with no small amount of regret. Would Luke never learn?

“Nice place you’ve got here, Jones,” Dr. Ward commented, leaning back and looking around.

“Yes, isn’t it?” Bob answered distractedly.

In the bedroom, Luke slipped out of his wet jeans and socks, then pulled on tan cords. He shoved up the sleeves of his black
sweater and stepped into his moccasins, then walked into the connecting bath and towel-dried his hair, surprised at how long
it was getting. He knew how much Bob hated the scruffy look, though years ago when he’d been out in the field, Jones had opted
for casual more often than not, trying not to stand out in a crowd as a Fed.

Luke grimaced at his mirrored reflection, rubbing the towel over his beard. No one would mistake him for a Fed these days.
Alongside the neater-than-neat chief, he resembled the criminals they were chasing more than a federal marshal. But maybe
Bob would be so intent on what he could learn from Terry under hypnosis that he wouldn’t comment on Luke’s appearance.

Fat chance, he thought, entering the kitchen from the back way.

Terry looked up from plugging in the coffeepot. “I’m heating the soup I made yesterday. And I fixed a batch of corn bread
that should be out of the oven in another twenty minutes. What else do you think we’ll need?” She looked nervous, worried.

He moved to her side and slipped an arm around her waist. “That’s plenty.” The soup, a rich beef vegetable, was a
meal unto itself. He pulled her to him, tilting up her chin. “Are you really all right about this hypnosis thing?”

“I think so. You’ll be there the whole time?”

“Absolutely.” He placed a light kiss on her mouth. “Don’t worry. It’ll be okay.”

Finally, she visibly relaxed and even smiled. “Thank you.”

Luke squeezed her hands, then left to join the men.

The lunch went well, with conversation centering around the unpredictable winter weather, the cozy little cabin, and John
Ryan’s health which, Jones assured Terry, was just fine after his brief hospitalization over chest pains. While Dr. Ward had
a second helping leaving no one to doubt why he had such a generous waistline, Terry hardly ate a thing. Yet she seemed poised
and self-assured, although Bob noticed that her hands trembled slightly when she raised her coffee cup. Luke called on his
steely control, keeping his expression free of emotion. Yet his gaze wandered frequently to Terry, seeming to reassure her
in the silent communication of lovers.

Bob’s intelligent brown eyes missed nothing as Terry and Luke responded to his artfully disguised questions, carefully studying
the give-and-take between them. That there was intimacy between them, he’d already determined. Whether or not their feelings,
acknowledged or not, were getting in the way of Terry’s safety and Luke’s judgment, he had yet to decide.

Afterward, Dr. Ward closed the living room drapes, leaving them with only the light from the fireplace, and instructed Terry
to lie down on the couch.

Jones removed his tape recorder from his briefcase. “Terry, I’d like to record this session. Your recollections could be crucial
to our case. It wouldn’t be admissible in court, but it could convince a judge that he needed to sign an arrest warrant if,
in fact, you can identify that fourth man.”

She sent Luke a quick glance. “I have no objection.”

Jones set up the recorder, placing the microphone near Terry’s head, then turned it on. He moved out of her range of vision
to listen with Luke.

Pulling up the footstool, the doctor sat alongside the couch at about Terry’s waist. “Have you ever been hypnotized, Terry?”

“No.”

“There’s nothing to worry about. Just try to relax.” He held up a gold pendant picturing a dove. “I’m going to set this to
swaying gently. I want you to concentrate on it and nothing else. Empty your mind of everything. Just look at this pendant,
watch the rhythmic movement, let it capture your interest totally.” He watched her focus in as he’d asked.