Stop at Nothing (23 page)

Abby was just finishing her ice cream when she heard the sound of an approaching car. Frowning, she glanced over at her sister. “Are you expecting anyone?”

Emma's brows lifted and she shook her head. “No. You?”

Abby's frown deepened. The only person she expected to show up at the cabin was Kyle, and he was obviously still in New Orleans. She got to her feet and set down her bowl, motioning for her sister to stay where she was. Emma nodded and glanced toward the stairs that led up to the second floor where Tyler was sleeping.

Abby held a finger to her lips, then turned and crept toward the front door, pausing at the credenza in the hallway where she'd stashed her gun after returning home from the store. She'd felt silly putting it there when the cabin was so secluded and not known to anyone who might harm them, but the pictures and texts had spooked her. And now that the gun was in her grasp and held down by her thigh at the ready, she was grateful for a little healthy paranoia.

She'd just reached the door when a heavy knock sounded on it, making her start with a gasp. She cast a glance over her shoulder to where her sister still sat in the kitchen, then stood on her toes to peer through the peephole in the door.

When she saw who stood on the other side, she could've fainted with relief. She unlocked the door and swung it open. “You scared the shit out of me, Gabe,” she said on a laugh. But when she saw the solemn look on his face, her knees went weak and she had to force herself to stay on her feet. She swallowed past her dread and managed to squeak out, “Kyle?”

Gabe grasped her upper arm, giving it a squeeze. “He's fine. But there was an incident down in New Orleans. He tried calling but couldn't reach you, so he asked if one of us could drive up here.”

The relief Abby felt as her adrenaline abruptly crashed had even more of an effect on her knees, and she grasped the front of Gabe's shirt with her free hand to keep herself from dropping to the floor. In a daze, she handed over her gun to him and let him lead her toward the living room.

“What happened?” she asked, her voice shaking with emotion she was barely keeping in check. “Is he hurt?”

Gabe sat down on the couch next to her. “No, he's okay. His former partner, Dave Peterman, was shot, but luckily he was wearing a vest and should be fine. Another man, Harlan Rhodes, was shot and killed—apparently by the same man who abducted Emma.”

“What? Why would he shoot him?” Abby asked, shaking her head in confusion.

“He saved Kyle's life,” Gabe explained. “He also returned the data that you exchanged for Emma and offered up some other damning evidence against your brother-in-law.”

“I don't get it,” Abby said. “Why abduct Emma and then help us?”

Gabe shook his head. “Kyle said the guy talked like it was all a game. I don't know.”

“Where's Kyle now?” Abby demanded. “I want to talk to him, see him. When will he be home?”

“Tomorrow morning,” Gabe told her. “He's taking the red-eye out of New Orleans after he debriefs with his former boss.”

She nodded and got to her feet. “Okay. Let's go.”

Gabe launched to his feet and caught her arm before she could take more than a couple of steps. “There's no sense in leaving tonight, Abby. You might as well get some sleep, and we'll head out in the morning. Kyle wanted me to stay here with you and Emma, just to be on the safe side.”

“Curtis is alive then.”

Abby and Gabe started and turned to see Emma standing in the entrance to the living room, her arms wrapped around her torso.

Gabe nodded. “Yes, ma'am. We believe that he orchestrated your abduction. And we suspect that he had intended for one of his associates to murder my brother and another FBI agent in New Orleans.”

Emma swallowed hard. “And you think he might still come after us.”

“I'm afraid so, Mrs. Maxwell,” Gabe told her gently but without sugarcoating the truth. “Is there somewhere else you can stay temporarily until we apprehend your husband?”

“What if we never catch my brother-in-law?” Abby demanded before her sister could respond. “There's nowhere Emma and Tyler can go that he wouldn't know about. And he has the resources to go off grid for quite a while. Theoretically, he could bide his time for weeks, months,
years
before finally resurfacing.”

Gabe ran a hand over his high-and-tight and then along the back of his neck, clearly concerned. “She can file a restraining order—”

“Oh, come on!” Abby interrupted, throwing her arms out to the sides in frustration. “You know those are just a formality. We can't do a damned thing to enforce them until something happens, Gabe. And then it could be too late.”

Gabe looked oddly tortured, the muscle in his jaw twitching when he practically growled, “I know.”

Abby briefly wondered what was behind the fierceness of his response, but her thoughts quickly returned to her concern for her family's well-being. “There has to be something we can do. Could Bradford be assigned to them again for a while?”

Emma blushed at the mention of Adam Bradford's name. “As much as I enjoy the company of Deputy Bradford,” she said softly, “we can't live in fear forever, Abby. At some point, we need to get back to normal.
Tyler
needs to get back to normal. He's going to have enough to deal with when he learns the truth about his father.”

Abby took a deep breath and let it out on a sharp sigh, trying to be understanding and supportive of her sister's newfound independence and resolve, but afraid she didn't quite understand what her husband was capable of. But her sister was right. There was only so much Abby or anyone else could do. They couldn't all be looking over their shoulders for the rest of their lives. “Okay,” she relented. “After we leave tomorrow—”

“I'm not going anywhere.” Emma drew up to her full height and lifted her chin a notch. “I'd like to stay here another day or two, enjoy the time with my son. He and I have a lot to talk about.”

Abby glanced at Gabe, torn between wanting to make sure her sister stayed safe and her need to be with Kyle and see for herself that
he
was safe as well.

“You must be tired, Deputy Dawson,” Emma said with a smile that Abby recognized as forced but anyone else would've seen as that of a consummate hostess. “Could I offer you something? Coffee?” Her grin grew. “Mint chocolate-chip ice cream?”

Gabe returned her smile. “Well, you've twisted my arm, Mrs. Maxwell. I think I'll take you up on that coffee. And
maybe
the ice cream.”

Abby stood in the living room alone for several moments, listening as Emma chatted with Gabe in the kitchen. Abby closed her eyes, wishing for a little normalcy of her own. And a certain pair of strong arms wrapped around her, holding her through the night.

She opened her eyes on a sigh and went to the door to secure the lock, then took a moment to pull back the curtains and peer into the darkness.

The morning couldn't come soon enough.

* * *

Kyle thrummed his fingers on the table, his patience wearing thin. And that wasn't helped by the fact that Skinner seemed completely unaware of the death beams Kyle was glaring at him.

“Let me get this straight,” Skinner drawled, leaning back in his chair, the springs squeaking and grating on Kyle's already frayed nerves, “you expect me to believe that the scrawny little bastard you roughed up a few weeks ago actually got the drop on you and Peterman?
You
I can believe. But Peterman?”

Kyle had to physically bite his tongue for a moment to keep from telling Skinner what a first-class dickhead he was. His tone was measured and carefully respectful when he answered, “Peterman never would've allowed either of us to end up in that situation if his daughter's life had not been in danger. He and I have had our differences, but he's…” Kyle coughed, choking a little on the words stuck in his throat. “He's a good agent. And a good man.”

Skinner regarded Kyle for a long moment, a smug smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah, he is. And so are you.”

Kyle's thrumming abruptly stopped. “Sorry, what?”

Skinner heaved a resigned sigh. “As much as I hate to say it, Dawson, I might've misjudged you. Well, not the part about you being a prick, so don't think we're having a
moment
here.”

“Wouldn't dream of it,” Kyle said, still stunned by the unexpected praise—qualified as it was.

Skinner gave him a tight nod. “You did one helluva a job on this case.”

At this, Kyle managed a slight smile. “Thanks. But I can't take credit for work that isn't mine. All I did was connect a few more dots. Abby—Deputy Morrow—was the one who gave us the connection to Maxwell and Whitmore.”

“Well,” Skinner said, pushing away from the table and getting to his feet at last, “if this Deputy Morrow of yours decides she'd like to come work for the Bureau, you let me know. I'd be happy to put in a good word for her.”

Kyle stood and extended his hand. “Yes, sir. I will.”

“Sir?” Skinner chuckled as he shook Kyle's hand in a firm grip. “You sure you didn't take a blow to the head?”

“Well, damn it.” Kyle sighed, shaking his head. “Now we're
totally
having a moment.” He spread his arms wide and gestured with his hands. “Go ahead. Bring it in for a hug, sir.”

Skinner spat out a curse under his breath and sidestepped Kyle's open arms. “Piss off, Dawson.”

“Oh, come on,” Kyle taunted, following after Skinner. “You know you want to.”

“Good-bye, Dawson,” Skinner called over his shoulder as he strode quickly from the room. “Don't hurry back now. I mean it.”

Kyle laughed softly to himself as he watched Skinner take off like his tail was on fire and his ass was catching.

“You two kiss and make up?”

Kyle turned to see Peterman walking toward him. The man carried himself like every step was agonizing, wincing as he extended his hand to Kyle.

“Hard to tell,” Kyle mused, glancing over his shoulder in the direction of Skinner's departure. “You know, he's always so good about hiding how he really feels about me.”

Peterman's laugh ended on a groan.

“What the hell are you doing here, anyway, Peterman?” Kyle asked. “Shouldn't you be at home with your daughter or, shit, in the
hospital
?”

Peterman placed a hand on his heart and gave Kyle a solemn look. “Why, Dawson, I'm touched by your concern.”

Kyle grinned and jerked his chin at Peterman. “How's your daughter? Is she gonna be okay?”

Peterman nodded, his mood becoming solemn once more. “Yeah, I think so. Eventually.”

“I'm sorry, Peterman,” Kyle told him sincerely. “If I hadn't acted like such an ass, maybe we could've taken down these bastards before anything happened to her.”

Peterman shook his head. “Don't.”

Kyle's brows came together in a frown. “Sorry?”

“Don't do that,” Peterman told him. “You start doing that shit, Dawson, you'll torture yourself with the ‘if we'd only got 'em sooner' bullshit until you lose your fucking mind. Just focus on the wins. You saved my baby girl's life. That's a win in my book.”

Kyle nodded. “Glad I could help. But Curtis Maxwell is still out there. How many other little girls are going to have to suffer because he's a greedy son of a bitch?”

Peterman gave Kyle a pointed look. “Well, we're not going to find him standing in the hallway jaw jacking, are we? I need to get back home to Miranda and make sure she's doing alright. And last time I checked, Dawson, you had a plane to catch.”

“You'll be here until I get back?” Abby asked, sliding behind the wheel of her sister's SUV the next morning.

Gabe closed the door and waited for her to roll down the window before he leaned in on his forearms. “I'm not going anywhere, Abby. Now get outta here and go call my brother before he starts leaving a shit-ton of voice-mail messages on
my
phone looking for you again. I'll keep an eye on everything here.”

She chewed her lip and cast a glance back toward the cabin. “What if I can't reach him? I can't keep leaving the cabin in search of a cell signal.”

“Don't worry,” Gabe said. “His plane was supposed to land a couple of hours ago. I'm sure he's already on the way home to rest up for when he sees you again.”

Abby felt her cheeks go warm at Gabe's knowing wink. “I'll try not to be gone too long,” she promised, starting up the SUV.

He shook his index finger at her. “I'm gonna hold you to that. Don't let him talk you into phone sex or anything.”

She gave him a wry look. “Can't make any promises.”

He grimaced and shuddered. But he was grinning when he patted the roof of the SUV with the palm of his hand and took a step back to motion her on.

As soon as she hit the main road, Abby fished her phone out of her bag, checking for a signal. Still nothing. It'd be a few more miles. But that didn't make the wait any more bearable.

A few miles later, she hit an area with a decent cell signal, and her phone began to ping with notifications. She whipped the SUV over to the side of the road and put it in park.

Her lips curved into a grin when she saw a text message from Kyle.

Just landed. Coming to the cabin. Will see you soon.

She checked the time stamp on the text message. He was probably already an hour into the trip. She immediately dialed his number, her heart hammering in anticipation of hearing his voice again.

“Hey, beautiful,” he said in greeting. “Did you get my text?”

“Yes, just now,” she said in a rush. “How was the flight? Are you doing okay? Are you sure you're okay to drive?”

“The next time I go to sleep, I want it to be with my arms around you,” Kyle replied, his voice low and heavy with meaning.

“How close are you to the cabin?” she asked, her stomach fluttering.

“Should be there in a couple of hours.”

“Okay. I'll see you there,” she said. “But promise me you'll pull over for a few minutes if you get too tired.”

“Cross my heart.”

She pulled a U-turn and made it back to the cabin in record time. She filled Gabe in on her conversation with Kyle—well, the part about him being en route to the cabin anyway.

“Are you
sure
you'll be okay?” Gabe asked, hesitating at the front door, clearly reluctant to leave Abby and her family alone at the cabin.

“We'll be fine,” Abby assured him. “I'm going to just stay around here with Emma and Tyler for a couple more days, then we'll all head home. And Kyle should be up here before we know it.” She glanced up at the sky, which was growing ominous as storm clouds began to roll in. “Let's hope he doesn't drive into one hell of a storm. Speaking of which, if you don't get out of here, you're going to get stuck in this mess.”

“I'm not worried about a little rain, Abby,” Gabe said, giving her a pointed look.

She glanced over her shoulder at her sister and nephew, then turned her attention back to Gabe and forced a smile. “I'll walk you out.”

Emma and Tyler followed them out onto the porch, waving good-bye as Abby walked with Gabe toward his beat-up old Chevy pickup truck. Abby wrinkled her nose. “You sure this will make it all the way back to Fairfield County?”

Gabe grinned, showing his dimples. No wonder he had the ladies eating out of the palm of his hand. “Don't worry. The Rust Bucket still has some life in her yet. Besides, the Old Man would've shit himself if I'd driven the department Tahoe up here when I have a perfectly good vehicle of my own.”

Abby made a show of giving the truck the once-over, then turned a doubting look on Gabe. “I've seen less rust at a junkyard. This thing is a relic. It should be in a museum.”

He shook his head, then slammed his truck door. “Don't listen to her, baby,” he purred to the truck. “Haters gonna hate.”

She winced when he started up the truck. It growled and sputtered but finally roared to life, backfiring like a gunshot.

“Shut up,” he murmured before she could even say a word. But then he suddenly sobered and leaned an arm on his open window, studying her for a long moment. “You really love Kyle, don't you?”

Abby nodded. “Yes. Very much.”

He blew out a sharp sigh. “So…then why'd you dump him that summer? He was a fucking mess, Abby.”

“I know,” she admitted, shoving her hands into the pockets of her jeans. “So was I. Believe me. If I could do things over, I would.”

Gabe's jaw tightened as he considered what she said. “He and I… We don't always get along.”

She laughed. “You don't say?”

He couldn't help grinning, but then his expression turned somber again. “But I love the guy. He's my baby brother. And I hate to see him hurting. Don't break his heart again, Abby.”

She held his gaze. “I don't plan to.”

* * *

Kyle blinked rapidly, clearing his vision. He should pull over as he'd promised Abby, take a quick break, get some more coffee, but shit—he was already jittery from the amount of caffeine he'd consumed since leaving the airport.

He knew it would've been smarter to just head home, but he didn't want to wait any longer to see Abby. He wanted to hold her in his arms, kiss her long and deep, promise he'd love her forever, and ask her if there was any way she'd consider marrying his sorry ass. Yeah, he'd apologized for storming out, and everything seemed fine between them, but he needed to see her again, see the look in her eyes, and
know
that everything would be fine before he could believe it.

He checked his watch. He was still about an hour and a half away.

Damn
.

He blinked again, his eyes grainy and burning with the need for sleep.

He saw a sign indicating that a rest stop was just a few miles ahead and sighed. Maybe if he just took a few minutes' break, grabbed another shitty cup of coffee from the rest stop vending machine, and walked around for a few minutes… He took the exit and parked in the empty parking lot just as rain began to fall, the steady rhythm making his lids droop. Thunder rumbled. A storm was moving in.

He grinned, remembering what had happened during the previous storm. With a sigh, he leaned his head back for a moment and closed his eyes, letting the memories of that night replay in his mind. He'd just sit here for a sec and listen to the rain. Just until his eyes stopped burning…

Kyle awoke with a start and cursed a blue streak when he saw the time. He'd dozed off for nearly an hour. He grabbed his phone and called Abby to let her know he was running late but wasn't surprised when it went to voice mail. He cursed again and peeled out of the parking space, eager to get back on the road. The roads were still wet from the rain that had passed through, forcing him to keep the Mustang at a reasonable speed instead of flooring it to get to Abby.

He wouldn't get to her any faster if he put the car into a ditch, he reminded himself. It was just an hour. What was an hour when they had the rest of their lives to be together?

* * *

Abby peered out the window again, searching for Kyle's car. He should've been there an hour ago. Now the sky was getting darker as storm clouds continued to roll in, and somewhere in the distance she could hear the rumble of approaching thunder.

“I'm sure he's fine,” Emma told her. “Didn't you say you told him to pull over and rest for a bit if he got too tired?”

Abby nodded. She could only hope he'd taken that advice and hadn't fallen asleep at the wheel. She shuddered, pushing away the images that intruded on her thoughts. She should've asked Gabe to stay at the cabin. Then she could've asked him to go out and look for his brother along the road.

Because that wouldn't have been paranoid at all…

She took a deep, steadying breath and let it out slowly. He was fine. She was sure of it. He had to be.

“A storm's coming,” she muttered. “I'm going to go get Tyler.”

Emma gave her a sympathetic smile. “He's out in the side yard playing.”

Abby found her nephew brandishing a stick like a sword as he battled invisible foes. She watched him for a moment, glad that he seemed to be unfazed by his world being turned upside down. Of course, getting an extended stay at a secluded lakeside cabin when he was supposed to be in school wasn't exactly a hardship.

“Hey, Captain Jack, you need to come inside,” Abby called. “It's getting ready to storm.”

Tyler immediately halted and gave her a frustrated look. “I'm not Captain Jack. I'm not a pirate at all. I'm Aragorn—and I'm fighting Orcs.”

Abby grinned. Aragorn was a much better pick. Couldn't argue there. “Well, you still have to come inside, Strider. The Orcs will be there later.”

His face lit up when he realized Abby had used the hero's other name in
The Lord of the Rings.
“You've seen the movies?”

“Yes.” She laughed as he jogged toward her. “I've even read the books.”

“There are books?” he asked, his brows coming together in a frown.

She dropped her head in mock despair. “Oh, Tyler. You and I are going to the public library when we get back to town.”

Just then the sound of tires on the gravel road brought their heads around toward the front of the house. “That must be Kyle,” she said, relief washing over her.

Tyler took off toward the front of the house. Abby jogged after him but slid to a halt when she saw that the car pulling up the driveway didn't belong to Kyle. Her heart began to pound and her breath caught in her lungs.

Tyler's face lit up when he realized it wasn't Kyle who had arrived. “Dad!”

“No, Tyler!” Abby called out, fear for her nephew making her bolt forward to intercept the boy before he could get to his father.

“But that's my dad!” Tyler cried, struggling to break free from her grasp in an effort to get to his father.

“Get in the house!” Abby ordered, dragging Tyler toward the porch and up the steps, while glancing over her shoulder to check Curtis's progress. She managed to get Tyler inside just as Curtis threw open the car door and got out.

For a split second their gazes met. His was cold, calculating. Furious. Abby's blood turned to ice. He was there to kill them. Or at least her.

“What's going on?” Emma asked.

Abby slammed the door and bolted it with trembling fingers. “He's here.”

Emma didn't ask who Abby was talking about. The way her blood instantly drained from her face, she knew exactly who Abby meant. “Oh God.”

“Hide until I draw him inside,” Abby whispered in a rush, digging through the overnight bag she'd left by the front door and pulling out her weapon. “Then sneak out and get to your car.”

“We can't leave you,” Emma argued.

“Yes, you can,” Abby insisted. “It's better if we split up. Now, I want you to drive to town. Call the police as soon as you have a signal and go straight to the police station. It's right on Main Street—do you remember?”

Emma gave Abby a wary, worried look. “Yes, but—”

“Go, Em. Now!”

Emma darted forward and grabbed Tyler's hand. “Come on, baby. We have to go.”

“But it's
Dad
,” he said, his voice breaking. “Why do we have to hide? Mom?”

Thunder rumbled so close that the windows rattled, startling them all. This time Tyler needed no urging when his mother pulled his hand. As they ran to find a hiding place, Abby took up position in the adjacent room, her back pressed to the wall as she waited. She closed her eyes, taking a few shaky breaths to try to bring her nerves to heel.

“Let me in, Abby!” Curtis shouted, trying the doorknob and finding it locked. “I don't want to hurt you!”

Like hell.

Another roll of thunder almost muffled the gunshots, but Abby recognized the distinctive sound. She flinched when the front door burst open with such force that it slammed into the other side of the wall that Abby was pressed against.

She took several slow, measured breaths, watching for Curtis to walk past the entrance into the room, waiting for him to come inside so she could either get the jump on him or draw him farther into the house and give her sister time to get away. But he didn't move. She could sense him on the other side of the wall, waiting just as she was, no doubt taking in every corner of the cabin that he could see from his vantage point before coming farther in.

“I know you're there, Abby,” he called out. “Why don't you come on out so we can have a chat?”

The rain portended by the thunder now began to fall, obscuring the sound of his movements. Abby strained to hear. Sweat began to form at the roots of her hair and at the back of her neck as she waited.

The floorboards in the hallway creaked loudly as Curtis shifted his weight. The bead of sweat at the base of Abby's neck slowly slid down her spine. She shuddered and adjusted her grip on her weapon, edging toward the entrance to the room.

“I know what you've been up to, Abby,” Curtis called out, closer now. “My associates have been keeping me informed. I won't let you turn my family against me.”

Abby bit the inside of her cheek to keep from yelling at the son of a bitch and assuring him he didn't need
her
help in that regard. He'd done a stellar job all on his own. She continued to wait and listen, praying that Emma and Tyler would stay hidden until she could draw him further in.