Page 29 of Mercy (Buchanan-Renard 2)

He finally shifted his position to take the weight off his knees. Putting his arm around Michelle, he bent down and whispered, “They’re looking for us at The Swan, and we’re going to sit tight until they’re gone. You still doing okay?”

She nodded against him. As soon as he turned back to watch the road, she rested her cheek against his back and closed her eyes. Her heart was slowing down now. She wanted to take advantage of the temporary breather in case they had to start running again. Who were these men, and why were they after them?

She shifted her weight from one knee to the other. She felt as though she were sitting in compost. The smell of wet, rotten, decomposing leaves was thick and musty. She thought there had to be a dead animal somewhere close because she could smell the foul stench of rotting meat. She wanted to gag.

It had stopped raining. That was good, wasn’t it? God, how long had they been waiting? It seemed as though an hour had passed since they’d dived into the brush, but then time had pretty much stopped from the moment the first gunshot had been fired.

She heard the car before she saw the headlights through the branches. It came roaring down the road, passed them without slowing, and sped on.

Theo chanced it and leaned out to see which way the car was headed. It slowed at the crossroad, then went straight ahead, which meant the men hadn’t given up yet and were searching another back road. He tried but couldn’t see the license plate.

“They’ll have to give up looking for us soon,” she whispered. “It will be light, and they won’t want to risk being seen by early morning fishermen. Don’t you think they’ll give up?”

“Maybe,” he allowed. “Let’s go,” he said then as he stood, bracing himself for the pain in his knee. He pulled her to her feet. “Stay close to the side of the road and don’t turn the flashlight on.”

“Okay,” she agreed. “But if you hear them coming, don’t throw me into a ditch again. Just tell me. My backside’s going to be bruised.”

He didn’t sound contrite when he said, “Better a bruise than a bullet.”

She sneezed. It felt good. “I know,” she said.

“Can you run?”

“Can you?” she asked, noticing that he was favoring one leg.

“Sure. I’m just a little stiff. Let’s move.”

There was a single light shining from a pole near the opening to the parking lot. Theo wasn’t taking any chances. He pulled Michelle over into the brush and edged around The Swan to the back door. He couldn’t see anything moving inside. The back door was metal, so Theo began to backtrack to one of the front windows, looking down at the ground now for a sturdy rock.

“I’ll have to climb in through the window,” he said as he picked up a jagged rock.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m gonna break the glass.”

“No,” she whispered. “I know where Daddy hides his spare key.” Theo dropped the rock and walked over to the door. She turned the flashlight on and reached up over the door and picked up the key from the ledge.

“That’s a real clever hiding place,” he said.

“Don’t be sarcastic. No one would think of breaking in Daddy’s bar.”

“Why wouldn’t they?”

“John Paul would go after them, and they all know it. Daddy could leave the doors unlocked if he wanted to.”

It took her two tries to get the key in the lock because her hands were shaking. Aftermath, she thought. Her body was finally reacting to the terror she and Theo had lived through.

Theo went inside first, squinting into the darkness, then, keeping Michelle behind him, he told her in a whisper to lock the door. He heard the sound of the deadbolt slipping into place. The refrigerator began to hum and vibrate. The phone, he remembered, was in the main room at the end of the bar, just outside of the storage room. He thought he heard a sound, maybe a squeaky floorboard.

“Stay here,” he whispered as he pulled his gun out and cautiously walked into the bar.

The light from the parking lot cast a gray shadow on the tables and the floor. It was still dark in the corners, though. Theo went behind the bar. His eyes had adjusted to the dim light, his gaze now fully directed on the half-opened door to the storage area. It was a perfect place for a man to hide. Would they have left a man behind? No, that didn’t make any sense to Theo, but he still continued to watch the door as he crept along.

At the center of the bar, he stopped, and then reached underneath the counter to search for Jake’s shotgun. He wouldn’t miss his target with that sucker, he thought as his hand touched the butt of the shotgun. Lifting it off the bracket, he carefully pulled it out.

Theo was turning away from the counter when he felt the tiniest brush of air on the back of his neck. He knew without turning around or hearing a sound that someone was coming up behind him and coming fast.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Michelle, run,” Theo shouted. He dropped the shotgun on the counter, then pivoted, his Glock cocked and ready.

He couldn’t see the man’s face; it was too dark. The huge shadow karate-chopped Theo’s wrist, but he held tight to the gun. Then the shadow grabbed Theo’s arm and twisted it back with one hand as the other was coming up fast to nail him under the chin.

Theo ducked, but not fast enough. The shadow’s knuckles grazed his chin, snapping his head back. Searing pain shot through his jaw. Theo put every ounce of power he had in his left fist and punched the attacker in the gut. He knew then he was in real trouble. His fist felt as though he’d just struck a cement block, and he thought he might have broken his hand.

Where had the son of a bitch come from? Had he already gotten to Michelle? Enraged, Theo hit again. With the speed of a jackhammer, the man swung his foot up to kick Theo’s knee.

Michelle turned on the fluorescent lights and shouted, “John Paul! No! Let him go.”

The two adversaries were now engaged in a bear hug, each trying to use his strength to break the other’s back. When John Paul heard his sister’s shout, he let go. Theo didn’t. He tried to hit him again, hoping to smash his face, but John Paul easily blocked the punch with as much effort as it would take to swat a pesky mosquito away. In the process, his hand struck a bottle of whiskey, sending it careening into the other bottles lined up on the shelf against the wall behind the bar.

Both men took a step back at the same time, sizing each other up. Michelle got between them, glancing from one angry expression to the other, and then decided Theo was the one more out of control. She put her hand on his chest, told him to take a deep breath, and held him until he came to his senses and did as she asked.

Theo took a long hard look at the man. John Paul looked like a savage. Dressed in a pair of army green shorts, boots, and a T-shirt, he was muscular enough to be the Jolly Green Giant. Only there wasn’t anything jolly about him. The bowie knife sheathed in the lining of his boot and the steely, pissed-off look in his eyes indicated he still wanted to break every bone in Theo’s body. No, he definitely wasn’t the Jolly Green Giant. Bad comparison, Theo thought as he continued to pant for breath from the exertion and the fear that maybe Michelle had been hurt. Her brother could star in a warlock movie. His hair was almost long enough, and he had the scars — one on his cheek and another one on his thigh — to make Theo think he was a throwback to times gone by.

“Theo, I’d like you to meet my brother, John Paul.” Feeling it was safe now to let go of him, she turned to her brother. “John Paul, this is —”

Her brother cut her off. “I know who he is.”

Theo blinked. “You know who I am?”

“That’s right,” John Paul said.

John Paul had never backed away from a fight in his life, and when Theo took a step toward him, he took an immediate step forward. Michelle was squeezed between them.

“If you knew who I was, why did you jump me?” Theo growled.

“Yes, why did you?” Michelle wanted to know, craning her neck back so she could look into her

brother’s eyes. “That was rude, John Paul.”

His sister always knew just what to say to make him laugh. It took effort to maintain his angry expression. Rude. Hell, yes, he supposed it had been rude.

He folded his arms across his chest. “I couldn’t let him take the shotgun,” he explained to Michelle. “He might be the kind to spook easy and shoot someone, or maybe even shoot himself in the foot.”

Theo wasn’t placated. He took another step forward. “You were trying to kick me in my bad knee, weren’t you?”

John Paul smiled. “Always go for the weakest point,” he said. “You were favoring your leg, so I figured . . .”

“You knew I was a friend of your sister’s, and you were still going to break my kneecap?”

“I wasn’t going to break it,” he countered. “I was just going to make you go down.”

“You could have hurt him,” Michelle said.

“Michelle, I don’t need you to defend me,” Theo muttered. His masculinity was taking a beating, and he had had all he was going to take of Mad Max.

“If I had wanted to hurt him, I would have. I could have killed him, but I didn’t.”

“The hell you could,” Theo said, as he dropped the gun in the holster.

“I could have snapped your neck, but I resisted the impulse.”

It was then, as Michelle was turning to tell Theo to stop baiting her brother, that she noticed the blood on his arm. She turned the bar light on and stepped closer to Theo. In the light she could see a sliver of glass imbedded in the deep cut. “When did this happen? You’re going to need stitches.” She didn’t give him time to explain. Whirling around, she went after her brother. She poked him in his chest and demanded, “Did you do that? What were you thinking?”

Theo smiled. He could have put an end to her tirade by speaking up and telling her that her brother hadn’t caused the injury, but he was getting a real kick out of watching John Paul squirm. Her brother was backing away from her as she read him the riot act. His expression, Theo thought with a good deal of smug satisfaction, was laughable. The guy looked as if he didn’t know what to do. When she was finished blistering him with her guilt trip, her brother appeared to be a little contrite. Not much, but a little.

In the harsh light, Theo could see a bit of a resemblance between brother and sister. Both had high cheekbones and blue eyes of the identical color, but that was where the resemblance ended. Michelle was beautiful. She had a gentle, loving disposition. John Paul didn’t.

Theo childishly wanted to keep on hating the man, but he knew he couldn’t because he could see in John Paul’s eyes that he loved Michelle, and Theo figured he was just like any other big brother, doing whatever it took to protect her.

His magnanimous gesture to give the guy a break was short-lived. John Paul glared at him and demanded, “My sister looks like she’s been dragged through the mud. What the hell have you been up to?”

Michelle turned his attention then. “You’re going to have to tell Daddy you broke his best whiskey bottle,” she told her brother. “Now, clean it up while I call Ben.”

She pushed Theo out of her way to get to the phone. She called the police station and asked the operator to put her through to Ben Nelson’s home.

Theo told John Paul to turn the light off. Surprisingly he did as he was told, then Theo explained what had happened. John Paul didn’t show any reaction.

When Theo ended his account of the attack, John Paul asked, “You think they’ll come back? Is that why you don’t want the light on?”

“They probably won’t, but I’m not taking any chances. We could get trapped in here.”

“No, we couldn’t,” John Paul argued. “Besides, I’d hear them coming.”

“Yeah? You’d hear them even if they were creeping up on us?”

John Paul nodded. “Yeah, I would.”

“You think you’re Superman?”

Her brother grinned. “Pretty much. I’d love it if they tried to come in. It would give me the opportunity to kill a couple of them.”

“There’s nothing more fun than a shoot-out,” Theo said, his voice reeking with sarcasm, “but not with your sister here.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Theo was beginning to feel the effects of the fight. His jaw hurt and his arm was throbbing. He opened the cooler, took out two cold long-neck bottles of beer, and though he wanted to hit John Paul over the head with one of them, he figured that would be a waste of good beer and handed it to him instead.

John Paul didn’t thank him, but then Theo didn’t expect him to. He opened his and took a long drink.

Theo heard Michelle talking to Ben and interrupted. “Tell him to meet us at the house.”

She asked Ben to hold on and told Theo they needed to get to the hospital.

He decided his arm was way down the list of priorities. “No,” he said firmly. “We’re going to your house first.”

“God, you’re stubborn,” she whispered, but she gave in.

Theo wanted to get off his feet so his knee would stop aching. He went over to one of the tables, sat down, then pulled another chair out and propped his foot up on it.

John Paul followed him, and stood beside him, towering over him.

“Sit down,” Theo said.

John Paul circled the table, pulled a chair out, and sat. He began to ask questions, wanting more details. Theo took another swig of his beer and then explained once again from beginning to end what had happened, only leaving out the part that he had been in Michelle’s bed. He didn’t think her brother would appreciate hearing that.

John Paul homed in on what Theo hadn’t told him. “Why were you closing the window in Mike’s room?”

“It was open.”

“Theo? Do you know what make the car was?” Michelle called out.

“A gray Toyota . . . new,” he answered.

“They’re probably long gone by now,” John Paul remarked.

Theo agreed. He was watching Michelle now, and John Paul patiently waited for him to turn back around so he could tell him he was going to have to beat the hell out of him because he knew damn well that Theo had been in Michelle’s bed. He didn’t care that his sister could make her own choices, and he didn’t care that it wasn’t his business. She was his little sister, and Theo, John Paul decided, had taken advantage of her.

“My sister’s a gifted surgeon,” John Paul said with a snarl.

“I know.”

“She’s spent most of her life getting her training.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“She hasn’t had much training with men . . . doesn’t know what pricks they can be.”

“She’s an adult.”

“She’s naïve.”

“Who’s naïve?” Michelle asked as she hurried to the table.

“Never mind,” her brother said as he continued to glare at Theo. He was angry with Michelle too, he realized, for not only had she allowed herself to become vulnerable by getting involved with an outsider, but damned if she hadn’t chosen a government man. That was almost unforgivable.

“Mike, you and I are going to have to have a talk.”

She ignored the anger radiating in her brother’s voice. “Ben’s getting dressed and will meet us at the house in about ten minutes. He’s also sending out a couple of police cars to try to find the Toyota. I told him I thought there were three or four men, maybe more.”

“At least four,” Theo said.

“Do you know where Daddy keeps the Tylenol?” she asked her brother.

“Above the sink in the kitchen. You want me to get it?”

“I’ll do it. Theo, we should go directly to the hospital,” she said as she walked away.

“Stitches can wait.”

Michelle came back with a bottle of Tylenol and two glasses of water. Tucked under her arm were two bags of frozen vegetables. She set the Tylenol on the table with the glasses and held up the bags.

“Peas or carrots?”

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Theo was unscrewing the childproof bottle of Tylenol. “Carrots.” She crunched the bag in her hands to break up the frozen chunks then put the bag on Theo’s knee.

“Better?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

She lifted the bag of peas to the top of her forehead. Theo immediately let go of the bottle and pulled Michelle onto his lap.

“You hurt yourself? Here, let me see.”

The concern in his voice made her feel a little weepy. She took a breath and said, “It’s nothing. Just a little bump. Honestly, it’s no big —”

“Shhh,” he whispered as he gently pushed her hand away and tilted her head down so he could see the injury in the dim light.

The more John Paul observed, the more depressed he became. He knew from the tender way Theo was touching Mike that the man obviously cared about her, and it was too late to do anything about it. A Fed. How could she have fallen for a Fed?

“Damn,” he muttered.

Michelle and Theo ignored him. “You didn’t cut your scalp.”

“I told you it wasn’t anything.”

“You’ve got a hell of a bump.”

“It’s okay.”

He was gently brushing her hair away from her face. John Paul’s disgust was becoming unbearable.

“Mike, get off his lap and sit in a chair.”

“I don’t think your brother likes me,” Theo said with a smile. Because he knew John Paul was glaring at him, he kissed her forehead. “When did you hit your head? Was it when the snake fell on you?”

She slipped off his lap and sat in the chair next to him.

“What snake?” John Paul asked.

“A cottonmouth fell out of a tree,” she explained to her brother. Theo opened the bottle of Tylenol. Michelle put her hand out, and he dropped two capsules into her palm as she said, “Theo, we have to get to the hospital and find that package.”

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