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Authors: Jennifer Lowery

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BOOK: Murphy's Law
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“No, Sara. This isn’t over. I can still
find her.”

Sara held up the doll and shook it in
his face. “Abby never lets go of this doll. She’s carried it around with her
since she could walk. It’s her favorite toy and she…she…”

Her voice rose with every word until she
choked on them. Murphy squeezed her arms and gave her a little shake.

“She may have dropped it out of her
pack. She may not even know it’s gone. You can’t assume anything, Sara.”

“But it’s by the river! What’s the
chance she dropped it here without knowing? No, I think she dropped it and
wasn’t able to go back for it because she…fell… Murphy, she can’t swim!”

That broke her. A strangled sob escaped
her throat and her hands fisted on the front of his parka. She began chanting a
mantra that Abby couldn’t swim as she pounded on his chest. Rain continued to
pour down on them, soaking them to the skin as cold wind gusted past and
whistled through the trees. The river crashed over rocks as it moved rapidly
down the mountain, swirling and throwing buckets of water over the bank.

Murphy stood still, letting Sara take
out her hurt and anger on him. He barely felt the blows from her small fists,
but he felt every emotion. It had been a long time since anyone stirred
feelings inside him. Damn. Much easier not to feel.

Finally, she collapsed against his chest
and clung to his shoulders. She buried her face in his parka and shook with
sobs. Her gut-wrenching sounds carried over the storm.

He lifted his face to the sky and closed
his eyes as Sara cried into his coat. He should’ve found the girl sooner and
prevented Sara from this pain. He doubted the girl had fallen into the water,
but he couldn’t be sure. Odd that they’d found her doll at the river’s edge, but
he wasn’t done yet.

Come hell or high water, he would find
the girl.

* * * *

Her heart ripped in two. The pain sliced
through her so deep, Sara wondered how she would recover. Abby couldn’t swim.
This was all her fault. If she hadn’t lost her footing…fresh tears filled her
eyes and she didn’t hold them back. They fell on Murphy’s coat until there were
none left. She didn’t care if they stood in the middle of a storm getting
soaked by icy cold rain. Or that the man standing rigid against her didn’t wrap
his arms around her and offer comfort. She didn’t care that her head felt like
splitting in two, or that her entire body had been run over by a Mack truck.
All she cared about was her daughter.

“I want her back,” she wailed into
Murphy’s wet coat, fisting her hands in the material at his shoulders above her
head. “I can’t lose her now. Not like this. I’ve kept her safe for so long. I
can’t lose her.”

She was losing it. The stress of the
past six years plus this topped the charts of what she could handle. She had
suffered so much at the hands of her husband and his family, she just couldn’t
bear the thought of losing her daughter now, after they’d made their escape.

“She’s mine, dammit. She belongs with
me!” she sobbed. “How could I let this happen?”

Rough hands gripped her shoulders and
set her firmly away from the chest she cried on. He gave her a rough shake.
Murphy bore down on her with a fierce expression. The scar stood out
dramatically against his tanned face as he leaned in close and forced her to meet
his eyes. His grip was strong through her jacket, but he wasn’t hurting her.

She blinked rain drops out of her eyes
and tried to focus on his face, blurred by her tears, then wished she hadn’t
because his granite expression made her pull back to escape its intensity.

“Pull yourself together,” he ordered in
a stern voice that held no sympathy. “We don’t have time for you to break down.
Your daughter was here, but she walked away.”

His words cut through her misery. “How
do you know that?” she shouted over the wind gusting around them.

Murphy pointed down at the ground. Sara
followed the action and gasped. She dropped to her knees and picked up the
broken piece of a zipper, holding it like a piece of gold.

She looked up at Murphy. “I had to keep
fixing Abby’s zipper because she wouldn’t part with her backpack. The doll must
have fallen out when the zipper broke. Do you think that’s possible?”

Murphy gripped her arm and propelled her
forward. A few steps later he stopped and knelt on the ground. Sara watched him
study the rocky ground, then reach out and trace a finger over an overturned
rock. She clutched the doll to her chest and waited for him to speak.

“She went this way,” he said, rising to
his feet and scanning the area around them.

“Thank God,” Sara breathed. “Can you
still look for her with the rain?”

Murphy didn’t answer. He stared at the
trees ahead of them. Sara followed his gaze, and glanced back at him. She may
not see anything, but he did. He had gone rigid and still, his jaw clenched
tight with nothing moving but his eyes. He reminded her of a jungle cat sensing
its prey.

Unsure what to do, she stayed in place,
her heart beating a mile a minute. She wasn’t afraid of Murphy, but his
abilities made her uneasy. Silent, intense and dark.

It made her think of her brother-in-law,
Stephen. The thought made her shudder. Stephen was bad through and through; she
had seen it in his eyes, but she didn’t see that same darkness in Murphy. He
was gruff and aloof, but his soul wasn’t black like Stephen’s. No one compared
to Stephen. Not his brother--her husband, Kent--or even their mother, Chelsea.
She was cold as ice and demanded too much from her boys, but she didn’t have
that same evil Sara sensed in her oldest son. Often Sara had wondered if
Chelsea had any idea who Stephen really was. If she saw the darkness inside
him. And if she did, how could she send him after her grandchild? Someone that
dangerous would stop at nothing to do her bidding.

Pushing those thoughts away, she focused
on Murphy. Later, there would be time to worry about what Stephen would do to
her if he found her.

 

 

Chapter
3

 

The hairs on the back of Murphy’s neck
bristled as carefully honed instincts alerted him to things he normally would
have missed. He’d learned years ago to trust his instincts and he wasn’t about
to change that now, so he scanned the tree line for signs of the girl. She was
close, he could feel it. Deep behind enemy lines he’d sometimes sensed the
enemy long before they were made known. His instincts had saved his life more than
once and he counted on them to save the girl now.

Though he couldn’t see her, he started
walking toward the tree line. Twigs snapped as Sara hurried after him. Moments
later she latched onto his coat. He led her into the woods and began slowly
circling, looking for the girl.

An hour later Murphy was frustrated and
Sara struggled to keep up. She kept stumbling from exhaustion. She’d only had
an hour’s worth of sleep in the past twenty-four and she had hiked steadily
most of the night. She needed a break, so he veered off in search of a nearby
cave. It would give Sara a place to rest out of the storm while he continued
his search.

She protested when he led her inside the
cave and pushed her gently to the ground. He was about to light a lantern when
the hairs on the back of his neck bristled again. He held up a hand to silence
her and she immediately snapped her mouth shut. Awareness zinged down his
spine.

He turned the lantern on and soft light
illuminated the cave. Sara gasped and lunged. There, huddled in the corner sat
a terrified little blond-haired girl. Dirt smeared her face, twigs tangled in
her curls. The knee of her jeans was torn, but otherwise she looked unharmed.

No wonder he’d lost her trail. Relief
flooded his chest in an unexpected wave of emotion.

Mother and daughter met in a hug that
caused Murphy to look away and stare out the mouth of the cave. He tried not to
listen to the soft weeping as he waited for the reunion to end. He was relieved
they’d found her, but he didn’t want to stay here too long. Sara needed to get
somewhere warm and dry before she caught pneumonia.

He glanced over his shoulder to see Sara
signing frantically to her daughter, who nodded and signed in return. Though he
couldn’t understand the language, he understood the emotion written on their
faces and saw a bond that would never be severed. Tears rolled down Sara’s
cheeks as she hugged her daughter for dear life. The little girl returned the
hug and clung to her mother. They communicated without words and Murphy watched
the exchange without remorse.

Sara turned toward him and pointed
before signing something to Abby, who glanced at him with eyes as blue as the
sky. Sara’s eyes. He couldn’t help but notice the resemblance. She was a
miniature Sara.

He knew he should shift so the shadows
concealed his scar, but it was too late. She stared directly at him. Rigid, he
waited for her reaction.

She asked her mother something, her tiny
hands moving with lightning speed. Sara smiled at her, then at Murphy, and he
felt the power of it like a punch to the solar plexus. Sara Sheldon had the
softest smile he had ever seen. She nodded as fresh tears spilled down her
cheeks.

Murphy watched her hands slip off her
daughter. He broke out in a cold sweat when Abby took a step toward him. Before
he could bolt, she was on his lap and hugging him with her tiny arms. She pressed
a kiss to his cheek before returning to her mother and snuggling into Sara’s
embrace.

“Is she hurt?” Murphy asked after a
moment, his voice more gruff than intended.

“No, she tripped and fell a couple times
but she’s okay.”

“Then we have to get moving.”

“Now?”

“Yes.” He took off his rucksack and dug
inside it for a flannel shirt. “Wrap it around her.” He followed it with a wool
cap that would keep heat from escaping through her head.

Sara did as told and tied the gigantic
shirt around Abby’s small body. It wasn’t much, but it would help keep her
warm.

“Murphy, it’s still raining. Can’t we
wait until it stops?”

“It isn’t going to stop. There’s a
hunting cabin a mile from here. We can go there.”

Sara nodded. “That’s where we’re
staying. Are you sure it’s only a mile?”

His instincts had been right on. She was
staying at the cabin. Were they alone?

“I’m sure. We can move faster if I carry
the girl.”

He put the rucksack back on and looked
to Sara to see if she would allow him to carry her daughter. He’d rather not,
but they would move twice as fast if he did, and Sara wasn’t in any shape to do
it. She could barely stand.

“Okay. Let me tell her.”

Moments later he had the girl zipped
inside his parka with her head resting on his shoulder. She fit right inside
and would stay warm next to him. Soon she settled in and closed her eyes. Five
minutes later she was sound asleep.

He ignored Sara’s gentle smile and
picked up his pace. Sara held onto his parka, weighing against it. He knew she
was nearing collapse but he had to get them to shelter. It wouldn’t take long
for hypothermia to set in, given her wet clothes and the cold weather.

Halfway there, Sara stumbled to her
knees. Murphy stopped and turned to see her collapsed on the ground, breathing
heavily and swaying. He reached down and lifted her to her feet. She looked up
with a pale face and tired eyes.

She glanced longingly at her daughter
and said, “Got any room in there for me?”

“We’re almost there.” He nudged her
forward but didn’t let go of her arm.

“I’ll make it. I’m just a little tired.”

He ended up slipping an arm around her
shoulders and hauling her along beside him. Her arm wound around his waist
beneath the rucksack and she leaned into him more with each step. Abby snuggled
into his jacket and didn’t stir.

Rain continued to pour down on them,
making the ground slick. Murphy kept Abby’s face tucked inside his collar to
shelter her from the rain, and pulled Sara along with him until finally the
cabin came into view.

“Is anyone staying with you?” he asked
as they rounded a bend and began the final climb to the cabin nestled in the
pines.

“No.”

He didn’t pry any further. It wasn’t his
business what brought a woman up here alone. They were a good forty miles from
the nearest town and this wasn’t exactly easy living. The mountains were harsh
and unforgiving; a novice wouldn’t go far up here. Sara had learned that the
hard way.

As they neared the cabin, he noticed a
shiny new SUV sitting in the drive. There was something off about it… He saw it
before Sara did and came to a stop. The tires were flat. His instincts flared
and he pushed Sara behind the nearest tree. She opened her mouth to protest,
but he shook his head and began unzipping his coat.

“What’s going on?” she hissed, watching
him lift the sleepy girl out of his jacket and hand her over.

“Let me go in first. Stay here until I
come get you.”

“Why? What’s wrong?” She clutched Abby
protectively to her chest. The little girl roused, looked at Murphy then at her
mother, yawned, and went back to sleep on her mother’s shoulder.

He wasn’t going to take any chances.
There were plenty of dangers in the mountains and he didn’t like surprises.

“Just stay here.”

Without giving her a chance to protest,
he moved silently through the trees toward the cabin, reached behind him and
pulled his Beretta from his waistband. He liked being prepared.

In a low crouch he moved around the SUV
and inspected each tire. By the time he’d reached the last one, he had thumbed
off the safety and felt a familiar tightening in his gut. One glance at the
open cabin door had him cursing.

He looked over his shoulder to where
Sara stood on the hill. She had some explaining to do and he was damn well
going to get answers.

Murphy maneuvered around the porch and
peered through a window into the cabin. He looked into the kitchen and didn’t
see anyone, but the cupboards were open and dishes were broken on the floor.

Not liking what he saw, he searched
through the windows for intruders. Seeing nothing but a demolished living room,
he slipped inside and checked the bedrooms and bathroom. The place was empty.
Sofa cushions were slashed, tables overturned, lamps broken. The mattress had
been flipped and Sara’s clothes were shredded. This wasn’t a random act, it was
angry and calculated. A message to Sara. So what the hell did it mean?

Someone wanted to keep her here, which
meant they would be returning. And if the destruction of the cabin indicated
that
someone’s
intentions, Sara was in trouble.

Cursing, Murphy stalked out of the cabin
and up the hill. He had enough supplies to last them until they reached his
cabin, but he didn’t want company. He’d much rather drop off his cargo and get
home, back to his solitary life. He didn’t have room for a woman and child in
his life. He didn’t want a woman and child in his life. But he couldn’t leave
them here in danger.

Damn it to hell, he didn’t want to get
involved. Probably a jilted boyfriend or husband out there wanting her to come
home. The last thing he needed was to get in the middle of a custody battle or
messy divorce. Obviously, Sara was hiding up here. Why else would she be in the
middle of nowhere? No one came up here unless they were hiding from something.
He should know.

So who and what was Sara hiding from?

Knowing the child couldn’t hear him, he
pinned Sara with a hard stare. “Who the hell are you, and who knows you're
here?”

* * * *

Sara flinched as if he’d struck her. Her
arms instinctively tightened around Abby and she twisted away from Murphy in a
protective manner more out of habit than necessity.

His questions echoed through her head
and for a minute she thought her knees were going to buckle. Murphy plucked
Abby out of her arms and once again tucked her inside his jacket. Abby didn’t
seem to mind being passed from one to the other and settled onto his shoulder
without opening her eyes.

“W-what do you mean?”

Murphy wouldn’t let her look away; he
held her gaze as he searched her soul for truth. She began to wonder if he
could indeed see what secrets she hid.

“Your tires have been slashed and your
cabin is destroyed. Someone didn’t want you to leave and they aren’t very happy
that you did.”

Sara felt the blood drain from her face
and her knees really did buckle this time. She sank to the ground and clamped a
hand over her mouth. Fear coiled inside her like a snake ready to spring. A sob
broke free from her lips.

“He found us,” she whispered in
disbelief and horror. “What am I going to do now?”

She had nowhere else to hide. They’d
traveled from one coast to the other, using false names and disguises, only staying
in one place long enough to avoid suspicion and never leaving a trail.
Everything she bought, she paid for in cash. She’d traded in her Mercedes for
an SUV. She didn’t have a cell phone and she never left Abby’s side. Yet they
always seemed to find her. What was she doing wrong? Why couldn’t they just
leave her alone? They couldn’t live like this forever. If they hadn’t gone for
a walk last night and if she hadn’t fallen, then
they
would have Abby
right now…

Realizing how close she’d come to losing
Abby to them, Sara twisted away from Murphy and heaved into the tall grass.
Dry, wracking sobs immediately followed.

Minutes later a water bottle appeared in
front of her nose. Taking gulping breaths, Sara reached for the bottle and took
it from Murphy’s hand. She shivered from exhaustion, cold, and emotion. Her
hand trembled as she twisted off the cap and lifted the bottle to her lips. She
might as well have tilted her head back and drank rainwater with the way her
hand shook. Water dribbled down her front and she let out a frustrated breath.
On her second try she missed her mouth. With a frustrated cry, she flung the
bottle against the tree and bit down on her lip to stifle the sobs rising
again.

Damn them for doing this to her and
Abby. She wanted to march back to Chicago and…what? What could she do? She was
powerless against the Benchleys’ wealth and power.

The thought of losing Abby to them
terrified her. It was the reason she’d run in the first place. She knew how
Chelsea adored her oldest son, Kent, and had seen the way she doted and turned
a blind eye to his affairs and drinking and indiscretions. Sara had been forced
to act the same and turn a blind eye to the cheating and lies. For six years
she’d allowed the Benchleys to control her. She’d been such a fool. Such a
lonely, desperate fool to think a handsome white knight could sweep her off her
feet, they’d ride off into the sunset together and he would not turn into a
toad at the end of the night.

Abby, the only good thing to come out of
her failed marriage, was the only heir from Chelsea’s dead son. Chelsea would
go to any lengths to get her granddaughter back.

Sara pressed a fist against her lips in
an effort to stop the angry words threatening to escape. She shook so badly now
she couldn’t stop. Her stomach rolled and her head throbbed.

BOOK: Murphy's Law
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