Love On the Run Page 12

  So much for Sampson’s untraceable cards. “You weren’t responsible for the bombing?” Jared asked, swallowing hard. If Brohaugh represented the group that had shot at them in France, they obviously didn’t care if Cassi and Jared lived or died, as long as they took Sampson.

  “No. That was another party.”

  “Who?”

  “You don’t need to know.”

  Jared snorted. “I do if they’re after us.”

  “Look,” Brohaugh gave him an impatient stare, “all I’ll tell you is that they tried to get you and Sampson in England, and for some reason I can’t fathom, they abducted some reporter my men were following. That’s it.”

  “So now what?” Jared asked, not pressing the issue further. “What happens to us? We’ve only been doing what your brother-in-law asked us to do.”

  Brohaugh glanced at Sampson, who looked up at him with enlarged eyes. “Why, we will reward you for your help. I think half a million for your interrupted honeymoon will be sufficient.”

  Did he really mean it? Jared wondered. Or was he going to kill them once Sampson was out of sight? “But—”

  “You want more?” Brohaugh’s eyes glittered dangerously.

  Jared shook his head. “I was only going to ask about your relatives who have died or have disappeared. Perhaps Sampson would be safer with us.”

  Brohaugh laughed. “They almost got you in England—twice, if my reports are correct. What makes you think they won’t find you here? Of course they will. That’s why I had to come first.”

  “You want to take over his dad’s operation.” Jared knew he was treading on dangerous ground.

  “I am his only living relative.”

  “No, Sampson is his son. So where does that leave you?”

  Brohaugh didn’t miss the veiled accusation. “I don’t care what you think,” he snarled, “and I don’t have to prove myself to you. However, I will tell you that I loved my sister very much. I admit that Quentin and I had our differences, but Sampson is Maura’s son, and I care for him.”

  Jared didn’t believe him for a minute.

  Brohaugh turned to his thugs. “We’re wasting time. They could be here soon. You know what to do.” He put his hand on Sampson’s shoulder. “Let’s go.”

  “But my stuff, and I want to say good-bye.”

  Brohaugh looked as though he would like to say no, but he gave a curt nod. Sampson bounded up the porch steps and came to stand before Jared and Cassi. “Uh, thanks guys. I—I—” Tears gathered in his eyes, and Cassi put her arms around him.

  “Look us up back home, okay? Come to the gallery. We’ll be there.” Sampson nodded and pulled away. Then he stuck out his hand to Jared. He didn’t speak, but stared at him for a long moment. In his eyes, Jared saw many things.

  “I know,” Jared said softly. He pulled Sampson’s hand forward, enfolding him in a hug. After a brief moment, they pulled awkwardly away.

  When Sampson went inside to get his things, Jared walked across the porch until he stood on the top stair above Brohaugh. Slowly, he descended the three steps. One of the thugs pointed his gun at his chest.

  “Easy,” Brohaugh told his man.

  Jared was taller than Brohaugh by at least six inches, and he could easily see the receding hair on the man’s head. Jared raised a finger and pointed it at Brohaugh. “If anything happens to him, I’m coming after you, despite your goons. No accident, no sudden disappearance. I’ll be watching you.”

  His face darkening in anger, Brohaugh swore at Jared.

  Jared glared back. “I’m not afraid of you.” He meant the words. Though he wanted nothing more than to live his life in peace with Cassi, he was involved with Sampson now, too. He wouldn’t let him die.

  Brohaugh met Jared’s stare for a full minute, his jaw clenched. The tension was broken by Sampson, coming out of the cabin with his suitcase. Without another word, Brohaugh turned his back on Jared.

  The silence was abruptly shattered as a man raced from the trees. “They’re here,” he shouted. “Must have followed us. They got Baker!” The man’s eyes went suddenly wide and he fell at Brohaugh’s feet, blood spreading from a bullet hole in his back.

  Jared had heard but a small sound. A silencer. They’re using silencers.

  “Get inside!” Brohaugh hardly needed to utter the command as everyone jumped for the cabin door.

  One of Brohaugh’s thugs and Anderson fired into the darkness from the porch, covering the others. Simultaneously, both stiffened and fell to the ground. Jared stopped to help Anderson inside, but Brohaugh pushed him through the door. “Are you a fool? He’s dead. There’s nothing you can do.”

  A deep sorrow filled Jared. He knew the mob boss was right, but he couldn’t bring himself to be so callus. Anderson had tried to protect them.

  Inside the cabin, the front window shattered. Worthington had his gun ready and used it to knock out some of the glass so he could fire better. Brohaugh’s thug was on the other side of the window, shooting with him as though they held an unspoken truce. Their shots were loud in contrast to the silenced guns of their attackers.

  “Is there a back way out?” asked Brohaugh.

  Jared shook his head. “A window.”

  “It’ll be watched.”

  The shooting intensified, and Jared wished he had managed to get Anderson’s gun before he had come inside.

  “Are you going to use that?” Cassi asked, pointing at Brohaugh’s gun. Her eyes challenged the man as she held out her hand, asking for his weapon. With a glance at Sampson, Brohaugh went to the door, cracked it open, and began firing with his unhurt right hand.

  How much ammunition did they have? Jared had seen the ammunition brought by the FBI agents, and even now Worthington was reloading for the second time, but did the bullets fit the mobsters’ guns, or had they brought their own supply? As if in response to Jared’s mental question, Brohaugh’s remaining thug flipped in another magazine, and Jared caught sight of many more on his belt. They had come prepared to fight someone—probably the FBI agents.

  While Cassi and Sampson huddled together in the corner next to the cupboard of dishes, Jared began searching for something to use as a weapon, keeping his head low. Then all at once the shooting from the trees ceased. Uncertainly, those in the cabin stopped firing at targets they couldn’t see.

  “Send us out the Landine couple and the child,” said a deep voice from outside. “The rest of you can go free.”

  “No!” screamed Brohaugh through the door. “The boy is not negotiable.”

  There was a long silence. “Then just the Landines. You can keep the boy.”

  Brohaugh’s eyes were calculating. Jared saw that Worthington and the thug now had their guns trained on each other.

  “No, Uncle! You can’t let them be killed!”

  Brohaugh’s smile was grim. “Look, Sampson, you are more important than they are. Sometimes sacrifices have to be made.”

  Sampson’s face took on an expression of horror. “No!”

  The plea bit into Jared’s heart. “Brohaugh,” he said, “sending us out there will only put Sampson in more danger. I suspect that for some reason those people want Cassi and me alive, at least if they’re the same ones who were after us in England. They drugged Cassi. They didn’t try to shoot her. Can you say they feel the same way about you and Sampson? What’s to stop them from burning this cabin after we’re out? Or using some other means to get in? Face it, we might be your protection. Unless it was you who got rid of Holbrooke and his relatives.” The words were a gamble. If Brohaugh had been responsible—as Jared suspected—his argument meant little. But if by some remote chance Brohaugh hadn’t killed all or some of the relatives, then the people who had killed them might be the men outside the cabin, ready to do the same to Brohaugh and Sampson.

  Brohaugh’s lips twisted in an ugly frown. He shook his head at his man, who immediately fired into the clearing. A shadow there fell, and the furious shooting began again.

 
Jared sighed, trying to digest this new information. Had Brohaugh been innocent all along? That wasn’t a thought Jared was ready to completely entertain. Perhaps Brohaugh was just worried enough about those outside to keep Cassi and Jared for protection. He could have murdered Holbrooke and the others and still be afraid. Or could he? Maybe he simply didn’t want to admit guilt in front of Sampson, though it didn’t make sense for him to care about the child’s feelings if he was also going to have him killed.

  A man burst through the back window, followed quickly by another. Two more rushed inside the front door, pushing Brohaugh back. Jared lashed out at one of the men coming through the door. The man raised his gun, hesitating when he saw Jared’s face. He fumbled at his chest for something else. Jared didn’t wait to see what, but slammed his foot in the man’s gut, following up with rapid punches. The man was strong, but Jared was faster. This was a fight he could win. But what about the others?

  From the corner of his eye, he saw Worthington whirl on the first man who had come through the back window. Both fired and slumped to the floor. The second man through the window quickly bore down on Cassi and Sampson. Desperation filled Jared’s mind. He had to help them. Please, someone help them!

  Next to him, Brohaugh grappled with another man, and Jared saw him weakening as he tried to use his wounded arm. Jared spared a kick at Brohaugh’s opponent, hoping to free the man enough so he could help Sampson and Cassi, and then turned back to his own fight. To be of any use to Cassi, he must finish this now.

  He landed two swift kicks to the man’s knees and three punches, one to his stomach, the other two to his head. At some point, the butt of the man’s gun hit Jared’s shoulder, barely missing his head. Jared grabbed the gun from him and fired. A dart shot into the man’s neck.

  So this is what he had been searching for.

  Jared turned to see if he was in time to help Cassi, but she was pointing Worthington’s gun at the man who’d come after her. He raised his hands in defeat. Close to the door, Brohaugh stood over his opponent, gun in hand. But Brohaugh’s hired man lay motionless by the front window. In two strides, Brohaugh crossed to the remaining intruder, who stood with his hands in the air before Cassi, and hit him on the back of the head with his gun. The man fell and lay still. Distaste swept over Jared.

  Three more men rushed into the cabin. Two went down quickly with Brohaugh’s and Cassi’s guns. The third, who’d come through the back window, pointed his weapon at Sampson and shouted, “Put down your guns or I shoot him now!”

  Cassi lowered her gun, but Brohaugh made a growling noise in his throat and leapt in front of his nephew. A dull thud sounded, and Brohaugh moaned in pain. Jared used that moment to hit the intruder on the head with a chair. The man crumpled, but still breathed. Jared slammed the door shut and found the lock was broken.

  “Uncle, are you all right?” Sampson plucked worriedly at Brohaugh’s sleeve.

  “Yeah, fine,” Brohaugh said through gritted teeth.

  “Let me see it,” Cassi said.

  The mob boss waved her aside. “I’m fine. Let’s get out of here.”

  “Henry?” came a voice from outside. “You got ’em?”

  Jared stared at the lifeless bodies around him. Which one was Henry? Pity and nausea filled him. Brohaugh opened his mouth to say something, but Jared stopped him. “Let’s play along,” he whispered. Louder, he said in a grunt that he hoped resembled the man he’d just hit, “Yeah. All done. Bring the car.”

  “But—”

  “Hurry!” There was silence on the other side of the door, and Jared hoped the man believed him.

  “Now what?” Brohaugh’s teeth were still clenched, and Jared wondered if he had been hurt more than he let on. Why had he done it? Why had he sacrificed himself for Sampson? Could it be that he really did love the boy?

  Jared was beginning to believe it was true.

  “Quick, out the back window!” Jared ordered. “Most of their guys are probably in here, or they would have kept coming. Even if there are more outside the window, they won’t shoot. They don’t want us dead.”

  “They don’t want you dead, you mean,” Brohaugh said.

  Jared grabbed his arm. “If we hurry, we’ll make it. We’ll shield you.”

  Brohaugh tried to rise and then sank to the floor, groaning in pain. “I can’t.”

  Jared tried to lift him, but Brohaugh pushed him away. “You go. Take Sampson. I’ll hold them off. Make them think you’re still here.” He grabbed a fallen thug’s gun and pointed it toward the door.

  Jared hesitated.

  “Go!” Brohaugh ordered.

  “We can take you with us.”

  Brohaugh’s gun focused on Jared. “Take Sampson to safety or I’ll kill you myself. Is that clear?”

  Jared nodded. “Come on, Cassi. Sampson.” He sprang toward the back window.

  “But, Uncle!” Sampson stared unbelievingly. Jared could only imagine what the boy was thinking. Could he see the death already creeping into Brohaugh’s eyes? Death from a wound that had been meant for Sampson.

  Brohaugh took Sampson’s hand. “Go, boy. I’ll be along later. Don’t worry about me. I’m just going to teach these guys a lesson. Go now. And be a man.” Sampson clenched his jaw, his eyes filling with tears. He nodded at his uncle and turned to the window.

  Jared peered out. He could see nothing in the dark. How many were waiting out there for him? Or had most of them come inside? Jared didn’t dare to hope that the man who had called for Henry had believed Jared’s lie. It was only a matter of time until the enemy regrouped.

  Taking a deep breath, Jared climbed out the window. He waited for the sting of a dart or a bullet. But there was nothing. Sampson came next, followed by Cassi. Behind them, they heard Brohaugh yelling at their attackers. “Get in here, you fools, and I’ll give you what you came for! He let off a cacophony of shots and a few from the front echoed in reply. Brohaugh had their attention.

  Jared thought he saw something move in the trees a few yards to his right. He grabbed Cassi and Sampson and shoved them to the left. As he did so, he heard a projectile slam into the cabin. It was impossible for him to determine if it was a real bullet or a dart full of sleeping drugs. So much for thinking the enemy had been fooled.

  “Run!” he shouted. Cassi grabbed Sampson’s hand and took off through the trees, dodging the shadows.

  Jared also ran—smack into a man. A large hand grabbed him, and Jared knew that in the man’s other hand was a gun. If he didn’t act, he would soon be dead—or sleeping like a baby. His foot came up and hit the hand with the gun. An answering fist slammed into Jared’s stomach. This man was strong, at least as strong as the man in the hospital. Was he also full of strength-enhancing drugs?

  Jared knew there was no way to win a fight with such a man. He just needed to distract him enough to . . .

  Suddenly the thug fell. Jared had heard a shot but hadn’t understood what it was until his opponent collapsed. Jared glanced at the back window of the cabin and saw a shadow. Brohaugh. He must have struggled to the window so he could make sure Sampson got away. Taking a shot like that had been risky because he could have so easily hit Jared, but the man had succeeded. Jared waved a hand in thanks before running after Cassi. He heard shouts coming around the sides of the cabin.

  Reinforcements? From which side?

  Something whizzed past his head. Well, that answered his question. Redoubling his efforts, he ran at top speed, zigzagging through the trees in a random pattern, heading toward the water. Hopefully, Cassi and Sampson were already in the canoe.

  Near the dock, Jared saw a man sitting on the ground, writhing in agony as he grabbed his upper left thigh. Jared smiled grimly. Cassi must have held on to Worthington’s gun. He only hoped there weren’t more attackers en route to the boat. “Which way did they go?” Jared demanded.

  The man pointed and then gasped as he recognized Jared. “You!” He reached for Jared.

  Dodging the grasping hands
, Jared sprinted toward the dock. He had expected the moonlight to reflect off the water, but clouds had moved in, leaving everything dark.

  Finally, he reached the dock. His feet clumped noisily on the wood. “Cassi?” he called, eyes searching.

  “Here!”

  He spied them several feet away in the canoe, both wearing life jackets. Sampson had the paddles, while Cassi held her gun ready. Jared was glad he’d called out so she hadn’t hit him by mistake. He picked up speed and jumped, hoping he had enough energy to make the canoe.

  His feet landed with a loud clanging sound, and the canoe rocked as though it would overturn. “Paddle!” Jared told Sampson, reaching for one of the paddles himself. If Jared could make the jump in his weakened condition, so could another man.

  His pursuers had already arrived on the dock. One prepared to make a leap, but Cassi let off a shot into their midst. Her gun was answered by others, and several darts clinked into the sides of the metal canoe and into the water, their sound distinct from regular bullets. But already Jared seemed to be pulling out of the darts’ shorter range. Cassi kept the men from following by shooting until she had no more bullets left.

  “Sampson!” Cassi gasped. Jared saw that the boy lay motionless in his place at the front of the canoe. She pushed past Jared, rocking the small craft dangerously, and knelt by the boy. She ran her hands over his body and came up with something Jared couldn’t see. “A dart.”

  “Is he still breathing?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then he should be all right.”

  Cassi laid the boy gently in the bottom of the canoe and took up his paddle.

  The men on the dock were fading, and Jared now blessed the fact that the clouds obscured the moon. Any watchers wouldn’t know where they were going. But Jared knew it wouldn’t be long before the men found a way to follow. He and Cassi had to hurry to the far shore, where perhaps they could hide and get Sampson the attention he needed.

  Jared almost didn’t see the hand on the side of the canoe until it was too late. With a shout of warning to Cassi, Jared raised his paddle and hit the hand. There was a muffled curse, but the hand reappeared, joined by another. Jared raised the paddle again, this time aiming for the man’s head. He heard a sickening crack of impact as the canoe rocked violently. He started to look for the man when the canoe tipped over.