WILDER DAYS Read online

  Sitting on the floor beside the bed, knees up and spine resting on the side of the mattress, Vic placed an arm around her daughter. Even in this dim light, with nothing but moonlight through the window, she could tell that Noelle’s hair was an unnatural shade. Vic sighed and lightly touched one sleep-tousled strand.

  “Mother,” Noelle said, that indignant voice too loud in the dark.

  “Quiet,” Vic whispered. Noelle complied.

  Vic’s heart beat too hard. She couldn’t breathe deeply enough and her knees shook. Were her physical symptoms of stress caused by her fear, or by what she and Del had been doing before they’d been interrupted?

  Her heart had started pounding, her knees had felt weak and her breath had been stolen away long before Del had heard the noise that alarmed him.

  Her eyes remained focused on the doorknob. What difference did it make why she shuddered? All that mattered was keeping Noelle safe.

  She strained to hear something. Anything. All was silent. Much too quiet. She scanned the room for something that might be used as a weapon in case someone other than Del came to the door. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. All they had was a window that opened onto the night and unknown, unseen dangers. That window might be their only choice.

  “What’s wrong?” Noelle whispered.

  After this was over, she’d have to tell Noelle what had happened at the warehouse. Part of the truth, anyway. But for now, a simpler explanation would have to do.

  “Del thought he heard someone prowling around the house.”

  Noelle sighed and relaxed, visibly relieved. “It’s probably just a possum or something,” she said, keeping her voice low. “Jeez, that guy is such a geek. Hasn’t he ever been out of the big city?” Her jaw dropped as a new thought struck her. “Mother!” she whispered indignantly. “He’s sleeping on the couch, right? So how did you know he heard something?” She took in the nightgown, the mussed hair. “This is completely and totally disgusting.”

  “Noelle,” Vic said in a low voice. “Can we have this discussion later?” Much later. Sometime like never. Again she searched the darkened room for a weapon of some kind.

  What sounded like an explosion made Vic flinch and pull her daughter closer.

  With a splintering crack, the wooden door flew back and crashed into the wall. Moonlight filled the cabin as Tripp quickly stepped inside, weapon drawn as he searched the room. Del had seen him coming and was waiting.

  “Drop it.”

  Tripp swung his raised pistol in Del’s direction, but he was too late. Del fired first and his bullet caught the crook in the chest.

  The man who’d burst into the cabin fell, and half a second later Del was there to take the weapon out of the invader’s hand. Tripp had tried to shoot Del with the Glock, the weapon he and Holly had taken at the warehouse.

  “Tried to shoot me with my own weapon,” Del said, hefting the familiar pistol in his left hand. “Not very sporting of you.”

  Tripp wasn’t dead, but he wouldn’t live long without medical attention. Del didn’t have time to linger over the man who’d kidnapped Vic. Holly was out there, somewhere, and it didn’t matter how sweet-faced she was. The woman was just as mean as her husband. Meaner, maybe.

  Tripp had kicked the door in, attacking without stealth, coming in with his gun raised and hoping for surprise. What about Holly? Would she come flying through the back door with a scream and a raised weapon? Or had she already slipped the lock and entered the cabin quietly?

  Del listened. All was silent. Tripp breathed, unevenly and with effort. If Tripp had come in the front door, Holly had probably taken the back. Del headed toward the kitchen, his eyes peeled for shadows that shouldn’t be there, his ears tuned for something, anything, that might be out of place. The creak of a floorboard, or the sound of breathing from a room where there should be total silence.

  If Holly was already in the house, why hadn’t she run to Tripp’s rescue? Those two had always been close. They’d started out small-timers, dealing drugs together while they were still in their teens. Newlyweds, then. A devoted married couple now. They watched each other’s backs, and one never did anything without the other. They were, in their own way, strangely devoted to each other. If Holly was here Del would soon know it, because she’d do her best to kill him.

  Del heard a scuff, the soft scrape of a shoe, on the back porch. Holly wasn’t inside yet, but she had to know that Tripp was down. Two shots had been fired, and if Tripp had been the one to come out of it standing, he would’ve shouted for Holly to come on, or gone to the back door to let her in so they could finish the job—finish Vic—together.

  With the Glock in one hand and the Colt in the other, Del took a lesson from Tripp and kicked the back door out, breaking the flimsy lock and surprising Holly, who stood just a few feet away. She lifted her head, and Del could see the brightness caused by the tears in her eyes. His weapons dropped, just slightly.

  “Is he dead?” she asked softly.

  “Not yet. Take it easy. Hand over the gun and let me call—”

  She didn’t allow him to go any further. Her gun hand snapped up and so did Del’s. They both fired and jumped aside at the same time.

  Del rolled off the porch and landed in the soft, damp grass. He heard Holly, just a few feet away, but he couldn’t see her. Grass rustled, a bush shimmied. Nothing more. Here at the back of the cabin everything was lost in shadows, and the moonlight was little help. He held his breath and listened. Where was she?

  His heart lurched. Vic.

  Del jumped onto the porch and ran through the busted back door. He waited for the sound of gunfire, the impact of a bullet in his back, but nothing happened. Inside the house, all remained still and quiet.

  “Vic,” he called out softly as he sidled toward the hallway. “Stay where you are. Don’t move. Have you heard anyone else in the house?”

  A soft voice drifted to him. “No.”

  “Are y’all okay?”

  “Yes.”

  He breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay. Stay put. I’ll be right back.”

  Del went back out the kitchen door, searching for signs of Holly. If she got away there was no telling when she’d be back, or who she’d bring with her. Now was the time to bring this to an end, once and for all.

  His nerves on edge, he circled the house cautiously, a weapon in each hand. Gradually his eyes adjusted to the dark, but Holly was nowhere in sight. Everything was quiet. Too damn quiet

  Something rustled to Del’s left and he spun around to face the wooded area beyond the clearing where the cabin was situated. He trained his weapon there, scanning for a spot of color that didn’t belong. Holly had been wearing a dark purple T-shirt. It was dark enough to blend in with the shadows, but it was also purple.

  Whatever was out there moved again, and then took off running low and fast. It was some kind of critter, not too big. Just big enough to make a good, loud noise.

  Moving cautiously, Del circled the cabin. The front door stood wide-open, but he could see nothing beyond. All was black. Portions of the porch were so dark he held his breath as he searched them. She could be anywhere. So why wasn’t she coming after him? Holly wasn’t known for her patience or her finesse.

  He circled the cabin twice before entering the house, again through the kitchen door.

  Del was about to creep into the hallway and make his way to Noelle’s bedroom, wanting—needing—to check and make sure she and Vic were safe, when he heard another gunshot. This came from a decent distance and was followed by the slamming of a car door and a revving engine. He listened, to make sure Holly was escaping and not driving her car toward the cabin. Sure enough, the sound of the engine faded quickly.

  He hated to let her get away, but he was damned glad he wouldn’t have to be looking for her while he loaded Vic and Noelle into the van.

  “Let’s go,” Del called briskly as he hurried down the hallway. “Get dressed and grab your purses, but don’t take time to pack.” He t
hrew open the door and found Vic standing before the tiny closet door, feet firmly planted, a curling iron grasped in one hand. When she saw him she opened the closet door. An agitated Noelle quickly exited. Vic put her arm around her daughter, while Noelle tried to look cool but couldn’t quite pull it off. Something about the picture tugged at his heart. Or maybe the excitement of the moment was just getting to him.

  Noelle’s wide eyes dropped to his hands. “Mother, he has guns.”

  “I know.’’ Vic laid the curling iron on the dresser, moving none too steadily. “Do as he says and get dressed.’’

  “But—” Noelle protested.

  “No buts,” Vic interrupted. “I’ll explain later.”

  “You’d better,” Noelle said as she reached into a dresser drawer to withdraw a black outfit. “I’d say you have a lot of explaining to do, young lady.” She actually smiled, enjoying her opportunity to turn the tables on her mother in spite of the tension in the air.

  In the hallway, Noelle’s door closed behind them, Vic looked up at Del. “Did you get them?”

  “Shot Tripp. Holly got away. That’s why we have to get out of here right now. She might come back, and if she does, she won’t be alone.”

  Vic nodded.

  “I’m going to call Shock,” Del said, turning and heading for the main room. “Tripp needs a doctor, and we need another place to hide.”

  “It won’t take me long to get dressed,” she said, hurrying into her bedroom.

  Del stepped into the main room and glanced toward the open door. And froze. The door hung open, crooked and rustic, and moonlight spilled over bloodstained wood.

  Tripp was gone.

  “He’s a narc?” Noelle leaned over the seat. Her horrified face was illuminated by the greenish light from the dashboard. “Oh, my God. A thug would be better. Mother, you can’t date a narc!”

  Del kept his eyes on the road. A good thing, since Vic was certain her van had never been pushed to this speed before. It flew along 1-65, just her van and a lot of trucks in these early morning hours.

  But he did grin. “What’s the matter, kid, afraid all your drug dealer friends will be scared off?’’

  “And we’re not dating,” Vic said, unable to help herself. Del spared a quick glance for her, and his smile died. “We’re just friends,’’ she finished.

  Just friends didn’t kiss the way they did, she knew. Just friends didn’t come very, very close to making explosive, out-of-control love. It sounded nice, it made a great explanation for Noelle, but she knew for a fact Del Wilder was not her friend.

  “You need new friends, Mother,’’ Noelle said, dramatically throwing herself into the back seat. “We never had people shooting at us until this guy showed up.” She sighed, deeply and with great emotion. “I could really use a cigarette.”

  “No,” Vic said sharply, surprised to find her refusal echoed by Del’s deeper voice.

  Noelle grumbled. Vic made out a few words, kidnapped, narc, and psycho among them. Eventually, sooner than Vic had thought possible, Noelle fell asleep.

  “Where are we going?” she asked, staring at Del’s stark, sharp profile.

  “You might not like it,” he said softly.

  “I don’t like a lot of things these days. Why don’t you tell me, anyway.”

  He smiled crookedly but didn’t take his eyes from the road. The grin didn’t last. “The Mayrons are after us. Both of us. We can’t be sure about Tripp, but we know Holly survived. That last shot she fired before she took off was probably a warning of some kind. Her way of saying I’ll be back. Tripp could be dead or he might just be wounded. It doesn’t matter. If he survived, he’ll be spending some time laid up and Holly will continue without him. If he died, she’s only going to come after us harder.” He took a long, slow breath. “She won’t come alone.”

  He wasn’t telling her anything she hadn’t already figured out for herself. “What does that have to do with where we’re going next?”

  “Noelle is not a part of this,” he said, his voice lower than before. “I know you want to keep her close, I understand that. But by keeping her with us, we put her in danger.”

  Vic felt the blood drain from her face. She knew he was right, and still... “Who can I trust with her? Not Preston, not my father, certainly not a stranger.” Wanda. “I have a friend—”

  “No. I’ll feel better if Noelle is somewhere no one will ever think to look for her. They grabbed you to get to me. We can’t assume they won’t grab Noelle, if they get the chance.”

  Vic shivered. She was damn tired of Del Wilder always being right! “I can’t just leave her anywhere,” she whispered.

  “Trust me,” Del said.

  She shouldn’t. She didn’t depend upon anyone these days, especially not any man. But deep in her heart she did depend on Del. She trusted him with her life and—more important—with Noelle’s.

  But with her heart? No.

  “I want a gun,” she said.

  “What?”

  “A gun.” She stared at Del’s profile. “When Tripp and Holly attacked the cabin I was sitting on the floor by the bed in my nightgown with no way to protect myself or Noelle. It was the most helpless feeling of my life.”

  “I can protect you—”

  “You won’t always be there,” Vic interrupted. “I want a gun.”

  He sighed, obviously not liking the idea. “Fine. I’ll teach you to shoot when we get the chance, and then maybe we’ll get you a little pistol.”

  She remembered too well what it had felt like to stand before that closet where Noelle hid, with nothing to defend herself or her daughter except a cold curling iron.

  “I want a big one,” she mumbled as she turned her gaze to the window and the darkness beyond.

  Del pulled into the rest stop and immediately spotted the car he’d been told to look for. He pulled the van in alongside the gray midsize sedan and glanced through the window to the driver. Shock.

  Shock exited the sedan and circled around, his eyes searching the parking lot and the rest-stop entrance behind Del.

  “How’d they find you?” Shock asked as Del stepped from the driver’s seat.

  “I don’t know, but I want you to go over this van with a fine-tooth comb. They tracked us somehow, and I don’t like it.”

  Shock glanced at Vic, who waited silently in the passenger seat, and then into the back seat, to Noelle. “Everything’s set. By sunup the lab guys will be tearing that cabin apart.”

  “I want to know everything,” Del said.

  “You got it.”

  Noelle did not want to be roused. She grumbled and waved her hands to shoo away whoever was trying to awaken her. Finally, angry eyes flew open and she exited the back of the van.

  Shock smiled and offered his hand. “Hi,” he said. “Nice haircut.”

  “Who are you?” Noelle asked less than cordially. “Shock. I’m Del’s partner.”

  Noelle’s eyes went wide, and she stared at Del and cocked her head to one side. “You’re gay?”

  “Not that kind of partner,” Shock amended. “Though we did have to go undercover in this bar one time, and—”

  “Shock,” Del interrupted.

  “Don’t make him stop! It was just getting interesting,” Noelle complained as Del ushered her into the sedan. She plopped into the back seat and leaned back. Almost immediately her eyes closed and she smiled. It was a very devious smile.

  Shock opened the door and sat beside her, invading her space so that she very quickly scooted across to the other side. “What’s with your hair, anyway?” he asked, sounding more interested than insulting. “It’s, like, the color of a cherry Tootsie Pop.”

  “It happens to be very fashionable,” Noelle answered, only slightly indignant. “Not that I’d expect someone like you to recognize the fact.’’

  “Hey,” Shock said. “I’m cool. I have a tattoo.”

  “Really?”

  Shock rolled up his sleeve and displayed his tri
bal-art tattoo for a very interested Noelle.

  Before Vic could step into the car, taking her place in the passenger seat, Del snagged her arm and pulled her aside. Leaning back on the fender, he pulled her into a loose embrace.

  “Are you okay?” he whispered.

  She nodded, but he didn’t quite believe her. She was trembling, gently but unmistakably, and wouldn’t look him in the eye. And she wanted a gun. It was a gut reaction to what had happened, he knew that. He’d been shot at He’d had to use his weapon, more than once. It was part of his job.

  He couldn’t see Vic with a gun in her hand. She painted. She made beautiful things. She didn’t shoot people.

  “Sorry we were interrupted.” He leaned down to kiss her forehead, worried about how the events of the night had affected her, concerned that—like the kidnapping—this was too much for her. Concerned! Hellfire, what was he getting himself into? “Next time, I’ll make sure we’re in a place where we won’t be disturbed.”

  Vic lifted her head and looked him in the eye. Even by the light of the street lamp above their heads, he could tell she was much too pale. Her hair was going every whichaway, curling around her face and down her back. “Maybe there shouldn’t be a next time.”

  Del absently brushed away a curl that touched her cheek. She was right. He knew it, she knew it and still... “Baby, there will most definitely be a next time.”

  After a moment of silent resistance, Vic laid her head against his chest. She didn’t bother to argue with him.

  “Where are we going?” she whispered against his chest.

  “You’ll find out soon enough.”

  He expected an argument but didn’t get one. Vic remained very still for a moment, and then—as Shock left the back seat of the sedan and stepped into the driver’s seat of the van—she pulled away.

  Shock waited. He wasn’t going to pull out of the rest stop until Del was well and safely on the road.

  Vic stood back and stared at Del. Hard. “I’m trusting you with my little girl’s life,” she said, her voice stronger than it had been before.