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Authors: Joan Swan

BOOK: Fever
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“There’s one.” Teague whipped the Jeep in a U-turn so fast, Alyssa had to grip the door handle to steady herself.
Her heart was hammering when he stopped behind the Volvo and put the Jeep in park. He climbed out and cupped his hands around his face to peer through the window. His shoulders slumped. He pulled back and returned to the Jeep.
“No booster seat,” he said.
“Are you sure they have one?”
“Seth would never let Kat ride in a regular seatbelt.”
“Why not?”
“Six years old and sixty pounds—that’s the law. Kat isn’t six yet, and she’s not anywhere near sixty pounds. We’ve both seen way too much tragedy in our job to take that risk.” He shook his head. “He’d put her in a bullet-proof bubble if he could.”
“Jesus, Teague, do you
hear
yourself? What is taking Kat going to do to Seth? Don’t you care?”
“Of course, I care.” He pounded the steering wheel with his palm, making Alyssa jump. “There is no win-win here. It is what it is. Sometimes life throws shit your way. You can’t always control it or avoid it or even fight your way out of it. You just have to find a way to deal with it. I did. Seth will, too.”
“We’ve had this discussion before,” she said. “It revolved around the phrase ‘shit happens’ and you know what I think of that theory.”
He rubbed a hand over his face. In front of Long’s Drugs, Teague pulled to a stop and left the engine running as he rounded the front of the Jeep and headed for a newspaper kiosk. He dug in the front pocket of his jeans for change and slid it into the slot.
He returned to the car and tossed the paper in Alyssa’s lap, his gaze focused into the parking lot. “There’s another one.”
The Jeep shot forward, pinning Alyssa to the seat. He swung around the next aisle and pulled up behind another white Volvo, just as an elderly man climbed into the front seat. Teague crept past, swearing under his breath.
Irritated, Alyssa laid her head against the seat. “There aren’t any more here and your driving is making me sick. Can I get something to settle my stomach now?”
Teague grumbled an undecipherable response, but he headed down the row, turned into the drive-thru lane and stopped behind a black Ford F250. “Where did all these people come from? It’s not even lunch time.”
“There’s
one
car ahead of us.”
“And one behind us and one at the pick-up window. It’s only ten—” He gestured to the dash. “Eleven-forty-five? Where did the morning go?”
“We slept late.”
The moment the words were out of her mouth, the atmosphere inside the car shifted. Intimacy thickened the air between them.
“Yeah. I guess we did.” The softness of his voice sent shivers sliding over her shoulders. She shook them away and scanned the menu board as Teague pulled up.
“I’ll have a number three with a large Coke,” she called to the speaker.
Teague looked at her with stark disbelief. “You just inhaled a table full of food at breakfast.”
“If you hadn’t gone all NASCAR on me, I could have settled for a frostie.” She raised her voice again, directing her words to the speaker. “Oh, and a large frostie.” She sat back and settled a look on Teague. “If you want something, get it because I’m not sharing.”
“There is no way you’re going to eat all that.”
She shrugged. “You had your chance.”
Teague pulled forward and waited behind the rumbling truck. Alyssa focused on the paper in her lap with a mix of resentment and fury. “Oh, look, we’re not headline news anymore. We’re just a little footnote directing people to the back page.”
“Hallelujah.”
“But our pictures are still here.” She lifted the paper to show him their thumbnails in the bottom right-hand corner next to the caption, “Murderer and Accomplice Still at Large.”
“Fucking fantastic.”
“Puh-leeze.” She drew out the word in irritation with his continued swearing. He ignored her. She turned to page ten. “ ‘Police continue to search for Teague Creek, thirty-four, convicted three years ago of ...’ ” She flicked a glance at Teague. “I’ll just skip that part.”
“Appreciated.”
“ ‘Creek is suspected to be accompanied by the woman who allegedly aided him in his escape.’ ” An angry sound scraped her throat. “It’s all the same character-bashing crap.”
Teague shifted in his seat, gestured toward the front of the line and let his hand drop against the window ledge. “What happened to the concept of
fast
food?”
“ ‘It is unclear, but suspected,’ ” she read on, “‘that Foster had arranged for the team’s ...’ ” No way. She was not reading these words. “ ‘... getaway car’? Getaway car? Now they’re saying I’m responsible for ... Jesus, I’m so pissed I can’t breathe.”
Teague ran a hand over his face and rested his forehead on his fingers.
“ ‘Sources inside the hospital tell the
Tribune
that—’ ” Alyssa skimmed ahead, barely able to believe the bull in front of her eyes. “ ‘Foster and Creek met and developed a relationship over the several visits Creek made to the facility’? You have got to be kidding me.”
She crumpled the paper in her lap and looked at Teague, but she didn’t see him, not really. Her mind had filled with visions of Dyne leaking this crap to reporters. Of that good old boys’ club sucking it up.
“It’s just sensationalism.” Teague’s smooth voice cut into her nightmare. “You’re today’s news, tomorrow’s memory. No one will remember this shit a week from now.”
“Oh, yes, they will. Maybe not the public at large, but everyone who counts will remember—the people I have to work with at St. Jude’s will remember. Everyone in the medical community will remember. And my family will always remember.”
“Everyone who counts?” Teague asked. “How in the hell do those dicks at the hospital count? That’s your own twisted perception, Lys. The reality is that the only people who count are those who believe in you no matter what. The ones who stand beside you when hell crawls through, nipping at your heels because they know who you
really
are. Anyone who would spread lies, discount your integrity ... they don’t count for shit.”
Alyssa’s gaze focused on Teague’s profile. His words, filled with certainty and finality and truth, sank in and gave her a whole new perspective. The tension in her chest loosened.
“You’re right.” All it took was a fresh outlook and Alyssa felt in control again. After experiencing the rigors of her fellowship, she could work anywhere. She could do research anywhere. The fact that leaving St. Jude’s would make her mother happy didn’t even phase Alyssa, because her mother’s opinion didn’t matter either.
She looked out the passenger window, her mind drifting toward new priorities, new horizons, new ideas of what really mattered in life. A woman caught Alyssa’s eye. Or rather, a little girl with a woman. They exited a shop together, the girl cuddled in the woman’s arms.
Maybe Alyssa noticed them because they seemed mismatched—the petite, thirty-something woman with a contemporary blond bob, the little girl with long, dark waves. Or maybe because that’s who they were looking for—a woman and a child. Whatever the reason, something about them held Alyssa’s attention.
“Teague?”
“What?”
“Look.” Alyssa pointed to the twosome, who had stopped at a blue Volvo. It was brand new, the paper dealer plates still in place.
A sound drifted from Teague. Something painful, guttural. Alyssa looked back at him. He’d taken off his sunglasses and was peering past her at the woman and child, his eyes sharp and hot.
“Kat.” His one murmur, filled with such longing, such love, touched Alyssa like someone reaching into her chest and stroking her heart.
“Are you sure?” She refocused on the pair. The woman was bent inside the backseat and the little girl stood beside the car.
“Of course, I’m sure.” He threw the driver’s door open.
F
OURTEEN
T
eague pushed himself from the driver’s seat.
Alyssa reached across the console and hooked her fingers in the front pocket of his jeans. “What the hell are you doing?”
Without letting go, she looked over her shoulder toward Kat and the woman who had to be Tara. The little girl stopped playing with her doll and looked up, honing right in on Teague as if they had some psychic connection.
“Kat,” Teague called to her.
“Don’t do this here, Teague,” Alyssa warned. “This isn’t the place.”
Kat started toward Teague, wandering away from the other car as if she were in a trance. Excitement broke out on her face, a smile as bright as a shining star.
A cop cruised along the drive between the Jeep and the Volvo, cutting off the view of Kat. With a curse, Teague ducked back into the car and closed the door, peering past Alyssa in search of his daughter.
“Dammit, Teague, you idiot.” Alyssa looked out her window toward Kat. “She’s in a parking lot, for God’s sake.”
“I didn’t plan it like that. I just saw her ... I just ... I want to run over there and pick her up.”
The cruiser passed, revealing a perplexed Kat. She craned her neck toward the Jeep, a worried frown creasing her face. She said something, but Alyssa couldn’t hear her from this distance. Then she said it again and Alyssa read her lips—
Daddy
. She resumed walking in their direction, then started running.
Teague was up and out of the car again before Alyssa could grab him. She pushed open the passenger door and stood just as Kat tripped. The little girl fell forward, hands outstretched. Her forehead collided with the bumper of a parked truck. Alyssa shot her hand out and caught Teague’s arm as he pushed into a run.
“You can’t.” She curled her fingers into the sleeve of his shirt, holding him back. “The cop. You can’t.”
He pulled against her grip. “She’s hurt.”
“I’ll go. Get back in the Jeep.” Alyssa didn’t wait for his agreement. She turned and jogged to the other side of the parking lot, where Tara bundled Kat into her arms.
“Oh, baby,” Tara crooned, her voice tight with distress. “You know better than to wander in a parking lot. Your poor little head.”
“Is she okay?” Alyssa stopped a few feet away.
Tears tracked down Kat’s cheeks as she focused on Alyssa.
Tara’s head snapped up. She stepped back and glanced around the parking lot. “Where did you come from?”
Kat whimpered and looked at the palms of her hands, where asphalt scrapes marred her skin. “Mama, it hurts... .”
“I was just ... I’m a doc—”
“I know what you are.” Tara cut Alyssa off in a low voice that sounded more like a growl.
“I came to—”
“And I know why you came. Your partner just left and I’m not going to tell you anything different than I told him.” Tara drew Kat close. “Why can’t you all just leave us alone? I did everything you told me. I’ve kept my mouth shut. Kept my part of the bargain. You can’t come back now, years later and ask for more. I won’t let you blackmail us for the rest of our lives.”
Alyssa stood there stymied. Her gut told her there was important information in that monologue somewhere, but without more background, she had no idea how to decipher the significance.
Tara turned away, buckled Kat into a booster seat, then locked and shut the door.
Alyssa took a steadying breath. “Look—”
“No, you look.” Tara faced Alyssa with rock-hard resolve. “I tried to reason with Vasser. I should have known you people wouldn’t let up. The answer is no. I will not get involved again, and no one is taking Kat from me. Ever. Do you understand?
Ever.
So just back the hell off.”
As Tara climbed into the Volvo’s driver’s seat and searched her purse for the keys, Alyssa inspected Kat’s forehead through the window. The bump was mild, Kat’s response normal. The little girl did indeed have dark eyes, supposedly her mother’s, but they were shaped like Teague’s. And she had Teague’s mouth, too. He’d been more than just a proud father when he’d said she was beautiful. He’d been right.
Tara started the car and backed out of the parking spot, the Volvo’s tires squealing as she exited the lot. Alyssa watched the vehicle disappear with a myriad of unsettling currents racing under her skin and even more questions firing off in her brain.
Vasser? You people? Involved? Take Kat? Mysterious men lurking? Something ugly was definitely going on here. Something beyond a wrongly convicted man. Something Teague was damn well going to start explaining.
She twisted toward Wendy’s. The Jeep no longer sat in the drive-through. She scanned the parking lot. No cop. No Tara. No Teague. As she spun in a slow circle, she realized she was alone.
“That damn—”
Her thoughts broke off as her gaze landed on a man near Albertson’s. He was tall, muscular, and dressed in casual clothing with a military style—drab cargo pants, boots and waist-length navy jacket. His head was shaved and he wore mirrored sunglasses over his eyes. He pushed away from a brick pillar and stepped off the curb, his attention on the asphalt as he spoke on the phone and walked toward the lot. The position gave Alyssa a clear view of the right side of his face, the large, triangular-shaped scar there and his partly missing, partly mangled right ear.
She sucked in a breath, as uncertainty rushed through her brain. Had Teague spotted him and run? Or had they seen Teague and hijacked him?
She made one more sweep of the lot. Still no sight of Teague or the Jeep. One thing was for sure, Alyssa wasn’t going to stand around in the freezing weather and wonder. She was done taking orders and following rules. With no one telling her what to do, she was damn well going to start doing things her own way.
 
“Yeah, Joce, I’m a little cranky,” Jason Vasser said into the phone. “Forgive me. It’s like three fucking below out here, and I haven’t slept more than two hours chasing this asshole all over the damn state.”
He stuffed his free hand into his jacket pocket and fished for his keys, wishing he’d worn something to cover his freshly shaved head. If he’d known Creek was coming to the Arctic, he’d have waited to get the cut.
“Well, where the hell is he?” Jocelyn’s voice rose in pitch with each day Creek remained free. “We’re talking one man here. You’ve taken down armies, Jason.”
They were a hell of a lot easier to subdue, too. Jason would take an army over Creek any day of the week.
“I can tell you he’s not going for the girl. I’ve scoured this town. He hasn’t been seen anywhere. I scared Tara Masters within a breath of a coronary. I’ve dumped her phone records, followed her, threatened her, bribed her. If he had contacted her, she’d have broken by now.”
“Maybe he’s not up there. Maybe that sighting was—”
“He’s here. I saw the pet store surveillance tape. It was him.”
“If he’s not there for the girl, then why the hell is he there?”
Jason rubbed his throbbing forehead between his fingers. “Hell, if I know. Maybe he’s taking the scenic route to the Canadian border. The F.B.I. is staging at Ransom’s house. I’m going to horn in over there, see what they’ve got.”
He lifted the key from his pocket and pointed it toward his car door. A hand came out of nowhere and covered the lock. Jason twisted. Put up his hand in a defensive gesture. And looked into the light hazel eyes of Alyssa Foster.
“I’ll call you back.” He snapped the phone closed and stuffed the device into his pocket. “Where did you come from?” He clasped her wrist and did a quick pat of her pockets while scanning the parking lot. “Where’s Creek?”
She looked at him with what Jason could only describe as liquid venom. “I will only say this one time. Listen closely.” Her voice came out low, raspy and far more menacing than she appeared capable of delivering. “Let go of my hand—right now—or I will scream
rape
so loud I will filet your eardrums.”
It took Jason a second to process her words. The tone, the directness, the content, they didn’t fit the sweet face, the petite build... .
“Right.
Now
,” she said in a feral growl from between clenched teeth.
Reflexively, Jason released her. An unsettling current rippled beneath his skin, partly embarrassment that this woman had unnerved him, partly anger that he’d succumbed to her order.
“Who are you?” she demanded. “And how are you related to this situation with Creek?”
“Let’s talk in the car.” He reached for her again. “I’m freezing out here.”
“Then talk fast.” She twisted out of his grasp. “I’m not getting into that car with you.”
She crossed her arms, cocked her hip and raised her brows, daring him to try again. Bitch wasn’t afraid of a goddamned thing. All he had to do was blink at Tara to have her shivering. And he wasn’t quite sure how to play this woman. She wasn’t at all what he’d expected.
“I know about Teague’s past,” she said. “About his wife, his girlfriend, his daughter. What I want to know is where you fit in.”
“If he told you that much, why didn’t he tell you the rest?” He took another sweep of the lot. “Where is the bastard anyway? Couldn’t face me himself? He sent a woman to do a man’s job?” His eyes fastened on her face again as a new realization settled in. “And why aren’t you worried I’ll arrest you?”
She held up her hand, tapped her index finger. “One, I haven’t done anything wrong. Two, since Creek dumped me here, I’ve got to find a way back to reality one way or another. Three, it will give me another reason to file a lawsuit against you and yours. Beyond that, all that matters is why
you’re
following
him
.”
Dumped her? Jason’s mind chugged. Purpose emerged. The jitter in his chest settled as he reached for his back pocket.
Alyssa’s fists clenched. She took two quick steps back.
“Just getting my wallet.” Jason held his free hand up. “Look, Dr. Foster—Alyssa—my name is Jason Vasser. I’m with the Department of Defense. The reason Mr. Creek doesn’t like seeing me is because he’s done a lot of illegal things, and he knows I mean to put him back in prison.”
“How does a murder involve the Department of Defense?”
Jason was all for strong women, but this chick was getting on his nerves. “Creek never did listen very well. Didn’t listen when he was told to stop asking questions. Didn’t listen when he was told not to involve outsiders in his quest. He just didn’t listen. You strike me as far more intelligent.”
Jason pulled out a card, and pushed his wallet back into his pocket and turned on the compassion.
“I’ve done extensive research on your background, and I know you’ve worked hard to get where you are. I’d hate to see all those years go to waste when you could be out there in the community helping people.”
He offered her the card. “I have a lot of pull in a lot of places, Alyssa. If you help us out here, help us get Creek back where he belongs, I can make all those ugly stories floating through the media disappear.”
The fight in her shoulders eased. Her gaze dropped to the card as she tapped the paper against the fingers of her opposite hand. “Those guards are telling convincing stories.”
“Not a problem.” Jason didn’t like the sense of being tested, but he grinned. “It’s a specialty of mine.”
“They have a whole web of correction officers backing them up.”
“Sounds like you’ve been talking to your brother.”
Her head came up again and a sincere surprise lit her eyes. “You know Mitch?”
Damn. He just couldn’t read her. If it were anyone else, he would swear she was baiting him, but she just didn’t look the part and her history suggested she was a straight shooter.
“Doesn’t everyone who’s anyone?” he said.
“I suppose so. He’s on his way to pick me up.”
That news definitely put a kink in Jason’s hopes of drawing her over to his side. He had to make a decision—try to net her and pull her in or arrest her. He couldn’t see any immediate benefit in the latter.
“Mitch has quite a reputation,” he said. “He does great work, Alyssa, but honestly, this situation is well out of your brother’s league. I guarantee he can’t do half of what I can do for you.” He tapped the card, pointed at her and smiled as he pulled his keys from his pocket. “Think about it. You know how to contact me. But don’t wait too long. If I find Creek first ...” He shrugged. “Would be a shame to see a bright future like yours wasted.” He paused for effect and met her eyes directly. “Or cut tragically short.”
 
Alyssa shivered as Vasser’s car exited the lot and turned onto Highway Eighty-nine. He’d just told her who he was, who he worked for and what he was doing. He’d oh-so cleverly alluded to the fact that he and / or his department had been involved in Teague’s imprisonment and Desiree’s murder. Then had balls enough to stand there and threaten Alyssa’s reputation, her career and her life if she didn’t act fast and spill Teague’s location. And they knew all about her. Even about her brother. At this moment, her lie about Mitch coming to get her didn’t sound like a half-bad idea.

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