Love Inspired Suspense May 2015 #2 (52 page)

He glanced in the rearview mirror. In the distance, lights from another vehicle were approaching from behind.

Fast.

Grayson's grip on the steering wheel tightened as he stepped on the accelerator. These weren't ideal conditions for evasive driving, but he'd work with what he had. The old Bowie Race Track was a half mile ahead. Used now as a practice track only, it would be locked up for the night, but he could pull in the drive to let the car pass. If he made it that far.

If not, there was a ditch on one side of the road and the Patuxent River on the other. Neither a good option.

He glanced in his rearview mirror again. The car was approaching at a dangerous speed. They weren't going to make it to the racetrack.

He eased up on the accelerator. One of three things was about to happen. The guy would swerve around them and speed on, he'd slam into the back of the sedan or he'd pull up beside them and fire off some shots.

Better for Grayson to keep his speed down and retain control of the car than for him to try to outrun the vehicle in these conditions.

“Grab my phone, Laney. I want you to call 911.”

FOURTEEN

L
aney fumbled for Grayson's cell phone, making the call as he navigated the dark, winding road. She glanced out the back window as she spoke to the 911 operator, doing everything she could to keep her voice calm, her thoughts clear.

There was definitely a car behind them. It was definitely gaining fast.

“Don't look back, Laney. Keep your eyes and head forward. Hold on to the armrest.”

Controlling her panic, she did what he asked.

“Shouldn't you speed up? He's gaining.”

“I will. I'm waiting for the right moment.”

Trusting Grayson, she watched the road ahead, the phone falling from her hand as she clutched the armrest and center console.

Grayson's gaze rapidly switched from the road ahead to the rearview mirror and back again. “Here he comes!”

Grayson hit the accelerator and the car lurched forward as the other vehicle slammed into the bumper. The sedan fishtailed, but Grayson maintained control. They were in the center of the two lanes, a curve fast approaching. If another vehicle was coming around the bend, they'd be in serious trouble.

Grayson slowed, getting back in the right lane. “He's coming again.”

The impact was stronger this time, the other driver catching on to Grayson's evasive tactics. The sedan accelerated around the corner, Grayson struggling to maintain control. The tires couldn't find traction on the wet pavement. The car spun out, coming to a stop sideways in the middle of the road. The other driver was coming right for them.

Grayson would take the brunt of the impact. “Look out!” Laney screamed.

Grayson stomped on the accelerator, angling the car back into the street and speeding forward just before impact. The other car slammed into the back fender of the much larger sedan.

Pop, pop, pop
.

A bullet pierced the rear windshield, exiting through the rear passenger's side window.

Laney heard a fourth gunshot even as Grayson pushed her head to her knees.

“Keep down!” he shouted as he accelerated into the next curve. Two quick shots and the car fishtailed out of control.

“He's taken out the rear tire!”

Laney braced for impact as the sedan careened off the road and into thick foliage.

Grayson struggled to steer the car between two big trees, missing each by mere inches. Laney could only grip the armrest in horror, flinching as branches and leaves smacked the car and windshield. The car jostled down the embankment, sideswiping a large tree and mowing down saplings before skidding sideways, the passenger's side slamming into a fallen tree, air bags exploding.

Grayson looked over his shoulder; Laney followed his stare. The other car's headlights were above them, at the road's edge.

“You have the cell phone?” Grayson asked, his voice calm.

“I dropped it!” She sounded nearly hysterical. She took a deep breath, tried to calm her frantic breathing.

“Check the floor. See if you can find it.”

She did what he asked, reaching through pebble-like pieces of broken glass. There! She felt the smooth surface and rectangular shape of the phone.

“Found it!” Laney thrust it into his hands.

As he zipped it into his jacket pocket, Laney shoved at her door with everything she had. “It's wedged against a tree. Does yours open?”

He tried it. “No, it's jammed.” He grabbed her hand, squeezed gently. “We'll go out through the window. Hurry.”

Cold rain pelted her face and hands as she exited the vehicle and nearly fell headfirst into the roots of the fallen tree. Grayson squeezed out the window after her.

“Where—” she started to ask, but he pressed his fingers over her lips.

“Listen.” He breathed the word near her ear, the sound more air than anything.

She froze, tried to hear above the frantic pounding of her heart.

Branches cracked, leaves crackled.

Someone was coming.

Grayson's hand slid from her lips, slipped down her shoulder and her arm until their hands met, their fingers linked. He didn't speak, barely made a sound as he led her quickly away from the car. The pouring rain muffled any noise they made, and she thought that maybe they had a chance of escaping.

There was no light. Nothing to guide their steps. Her eyes tried to adjust to the darkness, but the shadowy trees hid roots and rocks and fallen branches that seemed determined to trip her.

More than once, Laney stumbled over the unforgiving terrain.

They headed downhill, away from their pursuer and toward the Patuxent River. Rushing water drowned any sound of their pursuer but served to mask Laney and Grayson's progress, as well. Somewhere in the distance, sirens screamed. The police must be on their way.

She wasn't sure they'd arrive in time.

As close as she and Grayson were to civilization, they were cut off from everything.

Grayson pulled out his cell phone, “No signal,” he muttered, shoving it back into his pocket. He tugged her close, pressed his lips to her ear, his breath warm against her chilled skin. “When we reach the bend in the river, we'll head up. There's help on the road. I can hear the sirens.”

She nodded, clutching his hand as he led her around a curve in the river. From there, they climbed through thick foliage, clutching branches and trees to boost themselves up the steep, rain-soaked ravine.

Leaves had begun to fall for the season, making the ground cover slippery. Laney's feet went out from under her, and Grayson tightened his grip, pulling her back up.

The sound of sirens grew louder, but Laney could barely hear them. She was panting too loudly, her lungs screaming, her head pounding.

She'd thought she'd recovered from her concussion, but her climb up the hill was proving otherwise. What should have been easy was agonizingly difficult, her feet sticking to the ground with every step, her arms shaking as she tried to pull herself up.

Grayson stopped short, Laney bumping into him from behind.

“What—”

“Shh,” he cautioned, pulling her around so that they were side by side.

And she saw the problem.

She couldn't miss it.

Eight feet high with six inches of barbed wire across the top, the chain link fence might as well have been Mount Everest.

“We have to go back,” she hissed.

“We have to go over, the race track is on the other side of this fence,” he responded, scaling the fence easily and tossing his jacket over the barbed wire. “Come on,” he urged, reaching down for her hand.

If he'd been anyone else, she would have said no. If he'd been anyone else, she would have come up with her own plan and trusted it to get her out of the trouble they were in.

But her gut was telling her she could trust Grayson. If there was a way out, he would find it.

She was feeling weak. She wasn't sure she could make it, but she climbed the first few links of the fence and managed to grab his hand.

Behind her, something crashed loudly in the brush.

She panicked, trying to scramble up, her feet slipping from the fence, her body dangling as Grayson clutched her hand and kept her from tumbling down.

“Get your feet back on the fence,” he barked, and she somehow managed to do it.

Seconds later, she was beside him, looking straight into his eyes.

“This is the hard part,” he murmured, his gaze jumping to some point beyond her shoulder. “I'll go over first, and then I'll help you. If you don't move fast, that barbed wire is going to slice through the jacket and into your skin. Be careful!'

He was over the fence in a heartbeat, and then it was her turn. She grabbed the barbed wire, wincing as it dug into her hands.

“Move fast. The weight of your body is going to sink that barb in deeper if you don't,” Grayson encouraged her from the other side of the fence.

She nodded, her brain finally kicking in, all the panic suddenly gone. She'd done similar acts before, scaling rock walls to find the missing, climbing fences to check ponds and quarries. Only this time, the safety ropes were nonexistent, and there was a gun-toting maniac behind her.

* * *

The movement in the brush was growing closer, and it was human.

Grayson could hear whoever it was stopping every now and again to listen for signs of its quarry. Laney was scaling the fence more slowly than he would have hoped, but he was mostly relieved she'd made it this far. Her breathing had been labored during their ascent to the fence. It was obvious she was tired. But she never complained. Not one word. She just attempted to stick with him as if her life depended on it.

And it probably did.

Laney precariously straddled the jacket-covered barbed wire.

“Easy...” he cautioned, putting a hand on her arm as she maneuvered her second leg over.

The sound of their pursuer grew louder with every passing moment. He wanted to hurry Laney along, drag her down the fence and onto the solid ground.

If she fell, though, she could break a leg, sprain an ankle, slowing them even further.

She finally got solid footing on the links on the other side of the fence, then reached for the jacket and tugged.

“Just leave it,” he hissed. “They're coming!”

“Your phone...” She gave the jacket one more firm tug and it broke free, but the jerking motion sent Laney careening backward.

He grabbed her shoulder, nearly losing his grip on the fence as he caught her.

A branch cracked in the woods on the other side of the fence, and Grayson was sure he saw a sapling sway.

“Let's go!” He scrambled down the fence, then reached for Laney's waist. “I've got you. Drop!”

At once, she released her grasp, falling into his arms, just as a quick pop sent a bullet whizzing by his head.

“Go!” He pulled his own gun, firing off a shot as he shouted for Laney to run. She took off, and he followed, zigzagging through the thick stand of trees that bordered the fence and surrounded the racetrack on all sides. Emerging from the trees, they sprinted across tall grass, coming upon a three-and-a-half-foot wooden railing surrounding the dirt racetrack. Laney was already tumbling over to the other side of it as Grayson reached her.

Across from them, the starting gates and now-rickety spectator stands stood sentry, shadows of a once-popular winter racing venue.

“Hurry. We need to get across the track and find cover. I hope the police heard the gunshots and are heading this way.”

They made it to the center of the track, unkempt with overgrown grass and weeds. The footing was uneven in places, holes in the ground threatening to twist an ankle, but they didn't slow their pace until they'd crossed the muddy track again and reached the next wooden rail. By the time their pursuers had cleared the stand of trees, Laney and Grayson were out of range. Grayson could see them racing toward the railing, two dark figures against the gray night.

Ducking behind the empty spectator bleachers, Grayson took stock of the situation. There was really no good place to hide. Every structure surrounding the track allowed entry from too many directions, and with two men after them, that left too many opportunities for ambush.

Beside him, Laney tried to catch her breath.

“Can you make it to the covered horse bridge?” he asked, pointing to the shadowy structure at the top of the hill, behind the bleachers.

She nodded, pushing a strand of wet hair from her eyes. “I can make it.”

“Okay. I'm going to distract them. On my signal, you head for the bridge. Wait for me there. If we can get to the stables on the other side of Race Track Road, we'll have a better shot of getting a jump on them rather than the other way around.” Putting on his jacket, Grayson removed his phone. “Take my phone. When you reach the bridge, check for a signal. If you get one, call Andrews and tell him to let the local police know that we're at the racetrack. They're looking for us, but if they don't look in the right place...” He didn't finish. There was no need. Laney knew what was at stake.

The men had already reached the overgrown center of the oval track and were steadily gaining on them.

“Let's give them a reason to proceed with caution,” Grayson muttered, taking aim at the lower leg of the closest man. He wanted them alive, because he wanted whatever information he could get from them.

He wanted to live more. He wanted Laney to live.

One shot in the leg, and the guy went down. The other guy dropped too.

“Go!” he commanded Laney, firing a shot at the ground near the second guy's head.

* * *

Laney ran, sure that she had a huge glow-in-the-dark target plastered to her back.

At any second she expected to feel a bullet sear through her flesh.

She heard the loud pop of another shot as she reached the wooden bridge. Built nearly thirty years ago, it served as safe passage for Thoroughbred horses and their trainers across busy Race Track Road. The bridge was separated down the middle by a tall fence. Signs marking the exit and entrance gave clear directions to those passing through.

Laney veered to the right, choosing the entrance sign. Since Thoroughbred horses tend to be skittish, there were no windows in the bridge. Completely protected from the elements on all sides with the exception of the entrance and exit, the structure was eerily dark inside. Her footsteps echoed across the dry wood, breaking the silence as she pulled out Grayson's phone, checking for signal. Three bars. Better than none.

Making her way to the other side of the bridge, she dialed Kent's number. A shot rang out, startling her; she could only hope it was Grayson doing the shooting. Heart racing, she peered around the corner of the bridge. Shadows of the now-empty stables loomed directly ahead and to her left, a parking lot to her right. She hit the call button, putting the phone to her ear. It rang once, twice, a third time.

“Please. Please pick up.” Laney whispered to the darkness.