Colby Agency: Keeping Baby Safe Part 6

She had no intention of moving again.

"They're coming," Max urged. "Please, Scout, trust me. I won't let you fall."

Fear burned through her veins. He was right. She could hear the stampede of boots on the stairs. What good would it do her to protect her child from one threat only to fall victim to another?

They had to get out of here.

Holding her breath and keeping her gaze fixed on the tower, she inched toward it.

"Reach out and grab a rung," Max told her. "I've got you." He held on tight to her left arm.

Scout extended her right arm, straining, reaching. Her heart stilled in her chest as she stretched the last required fraction of an inch. Max held her tightly in his strong grip. Her fingers latched onto the cool metal. The breath she'd been holding hissed from her lungs. Her fingers curled around the steel, then she swung a foot onto a lower rung. Before she allowed herself time to fully consider the danger, she had climbed halfway to the ground. Max followed closely.

When they were both safely on the ground, he ushered her toward the front of the house, careful to stay within the shadows of the trees. He withdrew the keys to his SUV and dangled them for her to see. She smiled. Good old Max. He was always prepared. Seconds later they climbed into the vehicle they'd exited not so long ago.

The roar of the engine alerted those inside the cabin. A cacophony of voices erupted as bodies spilled out onto the deck. Max shoved the gearshift into Reverse and floored the accelerator. Scout powered down the window and laid some ground fire to hold off any attempts to follow.

A 180-degree turn later and they were speeding down the narrow winding road that led from Max's cabin to Crystal Lake proper. While he pushed the SUV for all it was worth to put more asphalt behind them, Scout kept watch for any pursuers.

She swore as two pairs of headlights bobbed over the hill some hundred yards back. "Here they come."

"Buckle up," Max ordered.

Though she followed his direction, her mind went abruptly to a whole other line of thinking. "How did they find me?" she demanded, suspicion making her tone harsh. Though she had to admit she doubted Max would be whisking her away if he intended for those guys to get their hands on her, still, someone had to have tipped them off.

"I don't know," Max said flatly, his attention never leaving the highway.

"If it wasn't you, then it must have been your pal Cooper." She twisted around in her seat long enough to notice that the tails were steadily gaining on them.

"They couldn't have known where I would take you," Max said, more to himself than to her. He glanced at her then. "And Cooper wouldn't have given out the information without my authorization."

Scout shrugged. "Well, maybe those guys are psychic." She was just about sick of deception. If Max was playing a game with her- "Hold on," he warned a split second before taking a hard right.

Bracing herself, Scout craned her neck to look behind them once more. The next vehicle skidded with the effort, but made the turn.

"I could take out one of their tires," she suggested, already reaching to release the confining seat belt. She'd need to be in the back seat. The second vehicle almost wiped out on the turn, but managed to straighten up and rocket toward them.

"No!"

His tone startled her. "Why the h.e.l.l not?" she snapped back. "Are those guys friends of yours?" Her pulse rate had already picked up an extra twenty beats per minute. How was she supposed to trust him, considering all the mixed signals he appeared to be giving?

"We're not shooting unless they shoot first. If those are Alexon's men-"

"If?" Scout made a scoffing sound. "Did you believe nothing I told you? Alexon is the enemy. How do I get that through your thick skull?"

"What's this?" Max shifted his attention from the road to the rearview mirror and back.

A third vehicle, yet another SUV, was attempting to pa.s.s the two already in pursuit of them. Scout didn't even want to know how fast the vehicle they were in was traveling. The tingling in the bottom of her feet was indication enough that it was far faster than she preferred. The realization that the enemy was swiftly overtaking their position only made matters worse.

"Hold on," Max cautioned before taking another sudden turn.

Tires squealed and this time Scout was certain the SUV would topple over ... but somehow it didn't.

More screaming tires screeched behind them. She looked back just in time to see the third SUV, the one that had pa.s.sed the others, slide to a stop across the road, effectively blocking the path of their original pursuers.

Frowning, Scout kept an eye on the situation until the vehicles were out of sight. "I don't get it." She shook her head and faced forward once more. "Who was that?"

Max didn't let up, obviously determined to put as much distance as possible between the other vehicles and theirs. "It couldn't have been Cooper, and no one else from the agency knows where we are at the moment."

"How do you know it wasn't your friend Cooper? It wasn't like we could make out the color or model of the vehicle. We certainly couldn't see the driver. Does he drive something other than an SUV?" Didn't all the macho types go for the muscle vehicles?

Max exhaled loudly. "What he drives is beside the point. I know it wasn't Cooper because he's in Houston, probably keeping your a.s.sistant company about now."

Every time Scout thought he couldn't do or say anything else to throw her off balance, he proved her wrong. "You thought you could get to me through my a.s.sistant?"

He shrugged. "I had to have a backup plan in case you didn't show at the cemetery."

She shook her head. He thought entirely too much like her.

"Now what?" she asked archly.

"We find someplace else to crash for a few hours. We both need some sleep and we need to talk some more. There are a few things we need to get straight." He still hadn't let up on the gas. The landscape whizzed by in a blur of black and dark green. "But first we've got to stash this SUV and find alternate transportation."

"This time I choose the location," she insisted. "I'm not comfortable with your choices."

Max laughed. The sound held little humor, but it helped ease the tension. For the moment, she had to a.s.sume that he was on her side. But the instant she got the slightest inkling otherwise, she was out of here.

Forty-five minutes later, Max had gotten lost in the downtown Chicago traffic. He had decided that someone from Alexon had followed him from the cemetery to his place at Crystal Lake. That was the only feasible explanation. Apparently, whomever it was had gotten a little trigger happy and tried to horn in on Max's territory. Max had made it clear to Alexon before taking this a.s.signment that he would bring Scout in on his own terms. Alexon had agreed to that condition. What they didn't need to know was that Max wanted to learn Scout's side of things before he took any drastic measures. Something about all this didn't feel right. He had to know why.

The third vehicle must have been from Alexon as well, since no one else had even known he would be waiting for Scout at the cemetery. Maybe Alexon had sent a team to put a stop to the loose cannons who'd forced Max and Scout into fleeing. He was rationalizing, he knew. Something just didn't add up.

A quick call to Victoria was all it would take to get Alexon off his back ... if they were the culprits.

They had to be, of course. No one else had been privy to his immediate plans.

Max parked in the s.p.a.ce he used every day when he came to the office. The agency kept two nondescript sedans and an SUV for just this sort of situation.

"Where are we?" Scout demanded, but she didn't hesitate to emerge from the SUV when he did.

He gestured toward the upscale skysc.r.a.per across the lot. "The Colby Agency. We're picking up that alternate transportation I mentioned to you earlier."

Without responding, she followed him into the building. The night watchman nodded once in greeting after Max showed his ID. When the elevator opened onto the fourth floor, Scout made a little sound of surprise.

"So this is where you work," she commented, her gaze roaming the luxurious reception area. He didn't miss the glimmer of approval in those gray eyes.

"This is it," he replied, leading the way to his own office. During their time in isolation together she'd told him about her office in Houston. He'd even thought about just showing up there one day to see her ... to ask why she'd never returned any of his calls. But he hadn't. Instead, he'd forced thoughts of Scout out of his mind and focused on work. It was the safest thing to do, right? Why risk further rejection? She hadn't looked back, so why should he?

Max pushed away the past and focused on the present. He had a job to do. He hesitated at his office door, waiting for Scout to catch up. She lingered, admiring the elegant paintings hung along the main corridor.

"Is anyone else here?" she asked, glancing first at the overhead lights and then scanning the bottoms of the closed doors along the corridor. The offices were all dark.

He stepped into his office and flipped on the light. "It's just us. Security prefers that we leave on the reception area and corridor lights."

She nodded and moved through the open doorway.

Max crossed to his desk. All agents possessed a set of keys to each vehicle owned by the agency. He'd decided on a sedan, something totally different and a bit more anonymous than his SUV. He'd noted that all three vehicles were in the lot when they'd parked.

Scout studied the photographs and framed career acknowledgments on his wall. For reasons he couldn't explain, he felt unexpectedly self-conscious. "I'm usually a little neater than this," he felt compelled to say when her gaze settled on the numerous stacks of papers on his desk.

She only smiled and drifted around the room, a.n.a.lyzing, touching things he'd grown so accustomed to that he rarely noticed their existence anymore. But having her there suddenly made the most inane object seem significant.

She picked up a marksman trophy he'd won years ago in a DEA-sponsored compet.i.tion. After a moment she moved on to other awards, carefully considering each before going to the next. Forcing a casualness he definitely didn't feel, he checked his voice mail and the In box on his desk. When she moved up behind him, he tensed, instantly aware of her unique scent and the energy she gave off.

"Is this your family?"

He turned to find her holding a framed photograph. The one his sister had insisted they have made last year. She'd complained that the Maxwells hadn't had a family portrait done in half a lifetime. So Max, his younger brother, older sister and Mom and Dad had all gotten together for a sitting. Max had to admit he was pretty d.a.m.n proud of his family. His sister had been right about the need to have the photograph done. None of them was getting any younger.

"Yeah, that's the Maxwell clan." He eased down onto the edge of his desk and watched her face as she studied the picture.

"Nice."

He tapped the frame next to his brother's image. "That's Derrick. He's in the Air Force, stationed in Alaska right now." Max realized for the first time that he hadn't seen his brother since this portrait was made. d.a.m.n, time flew quickly. "That's Fiona. She's the oldest and the bossiest." His sister always engineered the family get-togethers. She was the most organized. Everything a guy could want in a big sister. "Mom and Dad, of course," he added, briefly touching the gla.s.s above their beloved faces.

"I don't remember my mom," Scout said softly, the words scarcely a whisper. "I know her face from photographs and I can vaguely remember her voice." She looked at Max then, a sadness she either couldn't or didn't attempt to hide in her eyes. "She used to sing me a lullaby every night. I can remember that... ." She shrugged. "Not much else, though."

The full ramifications of Scout's situation hit Max then. She had not only lost her mother, but her father was gone, as well. She had no siblings. The man she called Uncle, the only family she had left, had just been murdered. She was even accused by some of being involved on some level. Max couldn't imagine how awful that must feel.

"I'm sorry." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he regretted having said them. Her expression hardened in a heartbeat.

"Don't be. Life isn't always fair. I got over it."

She set the photograph of his family back in its place of honor on his credenza, and skirted his desk. Careful to keep her back turned to him, she folded her arms protectively over her middle. Max closed his eyes and chastised himself for being so thoughtless. She'd simply asked if the people were his family, not for a dossier on each.

He retrieved the keys to the gray sedan from his middle desk drawer and pumped some lightness into his tone when he inquired, "So, where are we going now?"

She swiveled to face him, all that silky dark hair swinging around her shoulders with the move, her expression one of confusion. "What?"

"You said you were going to choose the place, right?" He tamped down the urge to smile. She hadn't believed he would go along with her demand without an argument. But he needed her trust. He'd play it her way as long as her decision didn't put her in any additional danger.

Her confusion melted into surprise. "Right." She moved toward the door, her arms still folded firmly. "We have to make a stop first," she said, pausing in the corridor outside his open door.

He clicked off the overhead light and pulled the door shut behind him. "What kind of stop?"

"I need the things I brought with me from Houston," she clarified. "The motel's not far from here."

Alexon hadn't been able to track her down. They were convinced she hadn't taken public transportation from Houston. No tickets had been purchased in her name, nor in any of the aliases she'd been known to use in her business. But then, that didn't mean she hadn't made reservations in a name no one knew about. Fake ID was as easy to pick up as gasoline at a service station. Certainly Alexon couldn't flash a photo and question every employee at the airports, train and bus stations. And there was always the possibility that she'd simply rented a car and driven the entire distance.

"You didn't mention how you got here," he noted aloud as they boarded the elevator in the reception area once more.

She smiled at him. "No. I didn't."

THE MOTEL LAY on the outskirts of town and epitomized the term "seedy." It irritated Max that she would stay in a dump like this, where most of the tenants rented by the hour versus by the night. Did she have no concept of personal safety?

What was he thinking? This was the same woman who'd gone into a South American jungle after a lost scientist. She was fearless.

"Nice place," he said dryly as he entered the shabby room behind her.

"It served its purpose," she retorted, just as cynically.

She tossed a duffel onto the bed, unzipped it and immediately started to stuff her personal belongings into it. He watched as toothbrush, toothpaste and simple cosmetics landed on top of clothing she'd never unpacked.

He was impressed with her ability to travel light. Most women, in his experience, would be lost without a blow dryer, curling iron and a dozen other "essential" items. Scout carried none of those things. Just the basics, nothing more. And, of course, her weapon.

When she'd completed her work, everything she'd brought on the trip fit nicely into the one duffel. Now he was really impressed.

Just when he'd decided that Scout was seriously different from the other women he'd known, she picked up what looked like a purse. A very large purse.

He sighed. The concept had been too good to be true, he admitted.

As if reading his mind, she shrugged the shoulder now bearing the weight of the gigantic pocketbook. "My home office," she explained.

It was his turn to be confused. "Home office?"

She opened the huge bag and showed him that it contained file folders, a ma.s.s of papers, a cellular phone and what looked like a laptop. Not a hairbrush or compact in sight. There was a small wallet/coin purse combination, he noticed. But that one item appeared to be her only concession to feminine necessity.

"Everything I know about Alexon is in here," she said solemnly. "I'm trusting you with all I have. I hope you're not going to let me down, Max."

He held her gaze for one tense beat before answering. Somehow he had to convince her that she could trust him completely. "I won't let you down."

She nodded and released a heavy breath. "We'll see."

"So," he said offhandedly, "where are we going from here?"

"My uncle's place," she said succinctly.

Her dead uncle's place?

Before he could question her reasoning, she added, "No one will think to look for us there. We'll be safe ... at least for a little while."

An emotion in her eyes that he couldn't quite define reaffirmed her words. Safe was all that mattered at the moment.

Chapter Six.