“Stay here.” Joe told her, jumping out of the car.
Kate faced forward again to see two large and nasty-looking men making their way down the embankment towards Joe. She recognized trouble when he saw it, and these two, even though dressed in suits, definitely looked like trouble to her.
She rolled down the window so she could hear.
“Alan Fairfield?” she heard heavy-set one call out to Joe.
“Who wants to know?” she heard Joe say.
She watched as Joe met them at the foot of the embankment. A knife appeared in the hand of one of the thugs.
Joe turned towards the car. “Go!” he yelled over his shoulder at her.
Kate clambered frantically into the driver’s seat. She could still see Joe, but in the next instant, she watched in horror as the man plunged his knife into Joe’s chest, ripping the blade upward before removing it. Joe went down. The man rifled through Joe’s pockets, retrieved his wallet, then cried out in surprise.
“Shit. It ain’t Fairfield. We got the wrong guy. He must still be back at—”
“Hurry, Mom.” Erin shrieked from the back seat.
Kate floored the gas pedal, turning the car around into the field too fast, losing traction. She got about twenty feet before the car slowed, coming to a bumpy halt.
“They shot the tires,” Erin cried.
From out the back window, Kate could see the two men running toward their car. The barrels of the guns they carried looked very long, and Kate realized they were fitted with silencers.
Horrified, she turned to her daughter. Erin was placing her coat over Catherine, who had begun to cry. “Shh, don’t wake up baby. It’s all right. Go back to sleep for mommy,” Then, “Mom. Give me your coat. Hurry.”
Understanding what Erin meant to do, Kate quickly passed her trench coat back and watched as Erin adjusted it over her own, making sure to leave an opening near the top so the child would not be smothered.
Please, God, don’t let them hurt the baby.
She and Erin opened the car doors in unison and took off running into the field to divert the men’s attention from the child.
They only got a few feet before Kate heard a sound like a sneeze, and watched as Erin fell face down into the field.
“Oh, God, no,” was all she had time to think before a second bullet caught the back of her head, severing her connection with the world.
* * * *
As Alan drove, he constantly looked into his rearview mirror. So far, he’d not noticed anyone tailing him.
Traffic was light, which was how he came to notice a black car careening crazily down the opposite side of the highway. It was going so fast it nearly ran up the back of a semi-truck. Blaring horns sounded as it changed lanes and cut off a small blue compact.
The sight set off a clang of alarm in his head. On impulse, he turned off at the next exit. He watched the white lines flash by and tried not to think about anything except the task at hand, getting to safety, wherever that might be.
A car lay angled in the field next to the ditch. He brought the Volvo to a screeching halt on the shoulder. That was the Mercedes. He remained at the wheel, frozen with fear, until his panicked mind ordered him to move.
He jumped out and ran towards the car. In his rush, he tripped over something at the foot of the embankment. Oh, God. Joe. Noting the large amount of blood puddled beneath the body, he checked Joe’s pulse, only to confirm what Alan already knew in his heart.
Heart pounding painfully in his chest, he raced for the Mercedes. As he approached, he saw the tires were flat. The car doors hung ajar. He ran forward and then spotted something fluttering in the field. Cloth?
A guttural, whining sound escaped him as he hurried toward what he now realized was his wife’s body. When he reached her, the scream that rose in his throat got caught. It came out as the whimpering of a wounded animal instead.
Oh, Kate.
Where was Erin? He scanned the field and saw another limp bundle laying less than twenty feet away.
His daughter, too, was dead.
He stood in the middle of the field and cursed himself.
This was his fault. A terrible rage ripped through him. He’d done what was asked of him and still his family had been taken. Why? Anger turned to hopelessness as he knelt on the wet ground clutching his murdered wife’s body. He was too numb to move until the sound of a crying child penetrated his pain.
Catherine.
He stumbled back to the car as the cries grew louder. He peered inside, but couldn’t see her. Frantically, he searched the back seat, lifting the coats away.
“Grandy. Want Mommy. Where’s Mommy?”
He burst into tears of relief when he found her unharmed. Not waiting for an explanation for this miracle, he removed the distraught child from the car and pressed her face against his chest to block her vision.
Moving Catherine to his hip, he popped open the trunk. The duffle of money he’d given Joe was still in there, and he picked it up. If he’d needed any further confirmation that this was not a robbery gone bad or some other random misadventure, he had it. He ran up the embankment, placed Catherine in the Volvo, and then slid behind the steering wheel.
Within minutes, he was on the road and only God knew where he was going.
Chapter 6
New York City – Present Day
“Really, Cat, do you mean to tell me if he asks you tonight, you’re going to tell him you need to think about it? What’s to think about? I mean, what more could you ask for? Matthew’s hot. Plus, he’s got a great job and makes oodles of money. Not to mention, any idiot can see he’s totally in love with you. Besides, what a great way to celebrate your birthday—with a diamond ring. And if I know Matthew, it’ll be a good-sized rock, too,” Amy gushed.
Catherine smiled at her long-time confidante, the very first friend she had made after arriving in New York to attend school. Amy, a good-hearted and vivacious New Yorker, had immediately recognized Cat’s culture shock and took her under her wing to educate her on how to survive in the big city.
Seven years had gone by since graduation, but not much had changed between them. Except maybe for Amy’s hair. Amy changed her hair the way other women changed their shoes, and Cat never knew what to expect if she hadn’t seen her friend for a while. Tonight, Amy had walked in sporting a straightened do, dyed flaming red. Not bad, although she’d always preferred Amy’s naturally curly brown hair to anything she’d done to it since. Hair aside, Amy remained her constant friend, the one person she trusted.
After graduating, their chosen careers had taken them in different directions. Cat landed her job at Rathburn and Sons, and Amy had found her niche as an events planner, which Cat thought perfectly suited her social personality.
“I’m just not sure if this is what I want.” Cat toyed with the olive in her Martini. “I mean, I do love him. And the chemistry is, well, fantastic.” She rolled her eyes a little to make the point. “But what if things don’t stay the same after? I like being in charge of my own life. And things are good the way they are now. Why rock the boat?”
Amy shook her head and smiled. “You haven’t even brought him home to meet your granddad yet. Maybe that’ll help you to decide.”
“I’ve asked him to come with me when I go home for my birthday on the weekend,” Cat said. “To tell you the truth, though, I’m a little worried about it. I don’t think he’ll like it down home. He’s a city boy. Who knows