Lost in Shadows (11 page)

“I think,” the cardiologist said, peering at Lucky over the rims of his reading glasses, “that the electric shocks sent your heart into ventricular fibrillation. The muscles went into a chaotic spasm, leaving you with no pulse or discernible heart beat.” He wiggled his fingers to demonstrate.

Lucky shrugged into his shirt and looked down to button it, more interested in his future than the “miracle” of his resurrection. 

“The man who did this to you, stopped your heart. But, what started it again?” the physician mused. “I will bet that after he realized you were dead, he gave you one last shock.” The doctor looked at Lucky appraisingly. “Ironic, isn’t it? The man who killed you is also responsible for saving your life. Many men would take that as a sign, an opportunity to change their lives.”

Figured Lucky would get a cardiologist who was also an armchair philosopher. Lucky didn’t believe in signs, things he couldn’t see or touch or prove with scientific theory. Everything happened for a reason.

“Bottom line, doc.”

“You’re fine. Cleared for duty if you want to return to work. Your enzymes are back to normal, stress test and Gallium scan all show your heart is functioning at an above average efficiency. In my opinion, you’re going to live a long time before you have to worry about your heart giving out on you, Agent Cavanaugh. You’ve been blessed with a second chance at life.”

Lucky gave a small grunt of acknowledgment. If his heart was so healthy, if everything was “fine”, then why did he feel so dead inside?

Vinnie was already up and dressing when he opened his eyes again. He watched her, trying to ignore the aches settled into his joints from the night on the floor and the calisthenics that had preceded sleep. His shoulder was throbbing in time with his pulse, but not as bad as yesterday.

Nothing seemed as bad today as it had yesterday.

“Do you believe in love at first sight?” he asked as she stretched her arms into her fleece pullover. He wished he was the one dressing her, but watching was fun, too.

“No, and neither do you.” She pulled her head through and turned to stare at him. “You ever been in love, Cavanaugh?”

“No.”

“Then trust me, because I have. Last night wasn’t about love, it was about lust.”

Ignoring his grimace, she turned away to step into her pants. Damn, the woman could be harsh. 

Must mean he hit a sore spot. Lust he’d known before—last night was about more than lust. If she couldn’t see that, he’d just have to prove it to her.

“So you and Michael, it wasn’t love at first sight, the fairytale romance?”

He’d caught her off guard. Her fluid motion stuttered, floundering for an instant. “Not for me,” she finally answered. “We didn’t exactly hit it off at first. He had to wear me down.”

“Kind of like us.”

“Nothing like us,” she said. “There
is
no us. Last night was sex—pure and simple, chemistry and hormones. Don’t start deluding yourself into thinking it was anything more, Cavanaugh.”

She pulled her hair back, swiftly braided it and tucked it into her collar, out of the way. Then he noticed that she once again wore her wedding ring. Hard to talk about romance with the ghost of the dead husband back in the room. 

The scientist in Lucky knew Vinnie was right. Last night meant nothing. 

He hated that he’d almost convinced himself otherwise, hated the impulse that made him dare to hope that it could have been more. But the light of day and Vinnie’s cold, hard logic set him straight. 

He of all people knew hope was dangerous. Best just to focus on the facts, work the problem at hand instead of dreaming up new ones. 

She tossed his clothes to him. “We’ve got to hurry, it’s almost dawn. I’ll change your bandage once we get to my cabin, don’t want it to start bleeding again. Do you need help getting dressed?”

Lucky would love nothing better than to have Vinnie’s hands on him again, but she was right, this was neither the time nor the place. He waved off her assistance and eased his aching body into his clothes. She doused the fire and helped him on with his sling.

“What do you want for breakfast?” she asked, her voice back to normal. She held out two foil wrapped MRE’s. “Turkey tetrazzini or beef stew and potatoes?”

Vinnie purposely kept her gait faster than what Lucky could handle. If he was huffing and puffing, then he couldn’t ask any more uncomfortable questions. 

Damn it, she was a biologist, she knew what last night was about: hormones, pheromones, the aftershock of adrenalin. Last night was sex, pure and simple, no holds barred and no promises made.

She hoped he understood that as well. There was no way she could trust her heart to another man. She’d loved fiercely and completely once, there just wasn’t any more left in her to give.

Especially not to a man who carried a gun and would return to his concrete jungle as soon as possible. She would help Lucky get safely off her mountain and out of her life. That would be the end of it.

She sighed. Damn, but the man knew how to make a woman hum. Forget everything. Even Michael—for a few hours, at least. 

A squirrel chattered nearby, and Vinnie came to her senses. Forgetting for one night was fine. Now it was daylight again, and there were men out there trying to kill them. She needed to keep her wits about her.

“There’s an overlook up ahead. We can see back down the trail.”

“Right. Wouldn’t want to miss the scenic view. Gee, not like all this white stuff doesn’t look the same.” 

He cursed as he trudged behind her, following in her footsteps. She slowed her pace, took pity on him. The man had been shot, after all. 

They reached the outcropping of boulders overlooking the gorge just as the sun peeked above the mountain range to the east. The valley below was blanketed in mist, the bank of dark storm clouds to the west a growing threat.

Vinnie sat and drank from her water bottle. The trees were silhouetted in brilliant purple light as the mountains in the distance slowly gained definition. Not far from this spot was where she’d first met Michael.

Strange how the memory didn’t hurt as much as it usually did. Instead of hitting her unawares, slapping at her, today thoughts of Michael seemed distant and remote, hidden behind a veil.

Lucky caught up with her and sagged down against the boulders, gulping down water. 

“Nice,” he allowed when he raised his head to peer into the gorge. He quickly pulled his head back, a turtle retreating into its shell.

“You don’t get this in your cities.” 

He was silent, looking out over the gorge with wide eyes. City boy, she thought, why did he think it was called Lost River? 

“Yes, it’s down there, you just can’t see it for the trees and the steep drop,” she answered his unspoken question as she grabbed her binoculars and scanned back over their trail. 

There was a definite column of dark smoke back to the southeast. “I think your booby trap worked,” she said, pointing to the smoke in the distance.

“Bet that got someone’s attention,” he said. “Sorry about your car.”

“It was just a tin box on wheels.” It was amazing how so many things she once thought important suddenly didn’t matter. 

“I’ve been thinking,” he began in a solemn tone.

“I was afraid of that,” she said, focusing on a red-tailed hawk with her binoculars.

“One of us has to get off the mountain with this information. After we cross the bridge, I think we should split up. I’ll head to your cabin. You go the long way around, across the ridge top. You can move faster than I can and they won’t be expecting anyone to go that way, on the map it looks virtually impassable.” He paused, and she felt his eyes on her. “You could make it, right?”

She shook her head. The man was transparent. Using her pride to force her to make a choice, the choice he wanted her to make. “I could. But I’m not.”

“I should have taken a chance with that road block. It’s my fault we’re stuck here on this damn mountain!” His voice echoed through the woods around them.

Vinnie raised her hand. “Hush.” 

The woods grew ominously silent. She stood on the edge of the ledge and made a quick reconnoiter with her binoculars. In the far distance she could see a line of headlights moving through the morning mist at the base of the mountain. Then a vibration jarred through her, unnatural and foreign to these mountains.

Suddenly her view through the binoculars was filled with a sinister appearing black helicopter. Several armed men were visible through the open doors of the cargo bay.

“Back, into the trees!”

Despite his injury, Lucky was quick to react, tugging at her pack as he scrambled backward into the scrub pines, the closest shelter. 

The helicopter rose up through the gorge like a Phoenix rising from the ashes, its engines now audible. It hovered just south of them, rotor wash whipping tree branches and bending saplings. 

She looked at Lucky, and his face reflected her dismay. 

“I told you they had money and resources,” he said. “You need to leave me and get the hell out of here. I can’t be responsible—”

“It’s all or none, Cavanaugh. You’ll never make it alone.”

“It’s not about me. It’s about getting the job done. You can do that. Right now, I can’t.” He gestured to his arm in the sling. “I’ll create a diversion, get them off your back.”

“Don’t even waste your breath trying,” she said, hoisting her pack onto her shoulders and turning her back on him. “I will not leave you here to die.”

“Vinnie, I’m not Michael. I can take care of myself.”

They both knew it was a shot in the dark, but it hit home. She shook her head, started down the trail. She’d made a solemn vow. 

Besides, she had a sinking feeling that his confidence in her was misplaced. He knew how these men thought, how they planned. Without Lucky, she would most likely blunder right into a trap.

“Face it, Cavanaugh,” she told him, “we need each other.”

He followed after her, a frown on his face. “Yeah, yeah, all or none. I heard you.”

Lucky was beginning to think that Vinnie was right about their attraction being lust and not love. Was it love when all you could think about was throttling the woman in front of you? When you wanted to pepper the air with curses about her pig-headedness?

He skidded into a snow pile, wet slush slipping down his boot top and swore. She certainly seemed to think he wasn’t going to make it off this godforsaken mountain alive. Was that the premonition she’d had earlier when they first met? 

Didn’t matter, he was a scientist, he knew better than to believe in luck or fate or destiny. Give him nice, predictable chemical reactions any day of the week.

It was nuts to even fantasize about getting involved with a woman like her, especially not now when he had a job to do. 

He grunted, used the walking stick to leverage his way over a fallen tree trunk, hating the way she moved so effortlessly through the forest. She was right about one thing—they did have a better chance at success working together than going their separate ways.

He walked a bit farther before realizing that, without saying a word, Vinnie had somehow convinced him to come around to her way of thinking. Maybe there were witches in these woods after all.