Star Witness

chapter Eight

As Harte watched the flames spread, another bottle sailed through the window and bounced and rolled. The first one was a Molotov cocktail. This one was a smoke bomb.

Yeoman’s men. It had to be. Had they followed him from the courthouse through all the traffic? He should have been watching, should have been aware that he could be followed. His Jeep wasn’t exactly the standard for the courthouse parking lot. They must have been waiting outside for the right moment.

He lunged toward Dani, grabbing the candle out of her hand and blowing it out. “They’re trying to burn us out,” he said. “I’m calling 911.” He snatched his phone from his pocket, but he still had no service. He thumbed the three numbers anyway, but the phone just made a pinging noise and went back to the default screen. He dove toward the landline phone.

“How’d they find us?” Dani croaked.

“Get into your room. We’ll go through the windows. My car’s parked on that side.” He grabbed the phone to dial 911, but the line was dead. The smoke from the bomb was filling the air as he ran toward the bedroom behind Dani. He’d break the tall windows and make a run for his car.

He hoped whoever was out there didn’t have the house surrounded. The only thing that might save them was the darkness and the cover of the driving rain. Right now, though, lightning streaked the sky directly over their heads.

Just as he made it through the bedroom door, the biggest flash lit up the sky. It outlined two dark figures in the yard, moving toward the house. Dani was standing in front of her dresser, picking up something. He grabbed her by the hand. “There’s someone out there. We’ve got to head for the kitchen.”

She pulled away. “I need my purse!” she cried.

“It’ll just get in your way!” he countered, but she grabbed it. As soon as she grasped the handle, he jerked her back out into the living room.

“Come on!” he croaked, coughing with every breath. The Molotov cocktail had burned itself out, but clouds of smoke still rose from the smoke bomb. Beside him, Dani was coughing and choking too.

He knew their only chance now was through the kitchen. He’d inspected the bed-and-breakfast thoroughly before he’d booked it. The manager had gladly turned the keys over to him and left to visit his grandkids in Baton Rouge. On the key ring was the master key to the house and another, smaller key. It went to a storeroom off the kitchen that opened onto an alley.

The manager had passed right by the door, but Harte had insisted on checking it out. The storeroom was small and dark, filled with cleaning supplies and boxes. It had an identical door on the other side of the room that led outside. On the outside, the door was finished just like the rest of the house. At a glance, it was impossible to tell it was a door.

All of that slid through his mind in the three long seconds it took for them to cross the living room. By the time they reached the small door, both of them were coughing constantly.

“Where are we going?” Dani asked, hanging back as he unlocked it.

“This goes to the alley. It’s our only chance.”

“What happened?” she cried. “How did they find us?”

“I don’t know. I’ll go first. Make sure they’re not out there waiting for us.” He unlocked the door to the outside and slipped through. With any luck, the men hadn’t noticed the delivery door. They’d be guarding the front and back, poised to grab Dani when she was forced out by the smoke and flames. With a little luck, he just might get her out alive.

Harte pressed himself flat against the clapboard wall of the B & B. The rain was punishing, but the narrow overhang of the roof kept the worst off him. It didn’t help with his vision, though. The veil of falling water obscured everything beyond a couple of feet. And if that weren’t bad enough, it turned to steam as soon as it hit the hot asphalt. Everything was enveloped in swirling gray. Harte couldn’t see anything or anyone. And he could barely hear through the rain’s dull roar.

Dani touched his arm. “Harte?”

He held out his hand. “It’s okay. Come on,” he said as loudly as he could to be heard over the rain, “but be quiet.”

She took his hand and stepped through the doorway, ducking her head and hunching her shoulders against the rain. She clutched her purse tightly. “Is it safe?” she asked.

Harte squinted at her, blinking against raindrops. “No, but it’s the best chance we’ve—” He stopped. “Shh. Hold it,” he whispered. Sure enough, he heard shouts coming from the front of the house.

He tugged on her hand. “Come on. We’re going that way, up Race Street.” He gestured in the opposite direction. “Can you keep up with me?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said firmly.

He looked her up and down. She had on sneakers, thank goodness, and that huge purse was draped across her body like a messenger bag.

He plunged into the gray sheet of rain with Dani right behind him. He didn’t want to run. They were too handicapped by the rain and the nearly impenetrable darkness. Of course the bad guys were handicapped by the downpour as well, but judging by the two men they’d seen and the shouts he’d heard, he feared that he and Dani were outnumbered by at least four to two.

All he could do was trust his instincts and try to get Dani to someplace safe.

He moved as fast as he could, tugging her with him until, out of nowhere, he stepped into a pothole. “Ahh!” he cried as his leg collapsed beneath him. He winced as pain shot up his leg from his ankle. He flexed it gently. To his relief, he could move it.

“Harte!” Dani knelt beside him as he tried to push himself to his feet. But when he put his weight on the ankle, a sharp throbbing stabbed him to the bone. Damn it. It was sprained. He knew from the first- and second-aid preparation courses he’d taken as a precaution for solo backpacking trips that he needed to wrap it as soon as he could. But right now he had no choice but to grit his teeth and bear it.

Dani touched his foot with her hand. “Is it broken?” she asked.

He grabbed her hand. “Get up. We’ve got to go.” He knew the ankle was just sprained, not broken, but it hurt like a son of a bitch even so.

He pulled her to the edge of the alley. The rain was in his eyes, soaking his clothes and shoes. He tried his best to see whether there was a vehicle waiting for them on the far side, where the alley opened out onto Orange Street.

As far as he could tell, both the alley and the street beyond it were clear. He wiped his face on the drenched sleeve of his white shirt. It didn’t help.

He headed across, pulling Dani with him, doing his best not to limp. A pair of glowing orbs was visible in the distance.

Headlights.

Dani saw it too. She squeezed his hand. “Harte! A car!”

“Hurry, before they see us.” The vehicle was approaching much faster than it should have been, considering that the driver had to be barreling blindly through the rain.

They headed across the street and ducked under an overhang. Without the rain beating down on them, they both leaned gratefully against the side of the building, trying to catch their breaths.

Suddenly, the whole street lit up as another flash of lightning ripped through the sky, followed by a deafening roar. The rain, which was already a downpour, now fell in sheets.

“Harte—” Dani cried.

He blinked as he desperately tried to see through the beating rain. It was dangerous and stupid to stumble blindly around without knowing where they were headed.

He’d studied the streets near the B & B, but the combination of the rain and the darkness was doubly disorienting, and there was no hope of reading a street sign from more than a few inches away.

“Harte!” She tugged on his shirtsleeve and stood on tiptoe to get close to his ear. “Look. The headlights aren’t moving.”

He focused on the pallid, blurry spots of the headlights. They were still. He blinked and looked again. The vehicle was still moving, but more slowly. Then he noticed dark shadows in front of it, heading in their direction. But he couldn’t tell how many. Two? Three?

“It’s them!” Dani cried.

Harte tightened his hand around her wrist and jerked her with him as he ran unevenly, gritting his teeth against the pain in his ankle.

He spotted a darker rectangle in the midst of the gray. The entrance to the alley? God, he hoped so. If he was wrong, they’d be sitting ducks. He sped up, tightening his grip on Dani’s wrist.

But moving forward through the rain was like pushing through a maze of heavy drapes while fording a stream, because the water rushing around their feet was at least three inches deep, making the roads slippery. And the pain in his ankle wasn’t helping. He stumbled and his fingers slipped off Dani’s wrist.

That quickly, she was gone.

Dani lost her footing when her hand slid out of Harte’s grip. Her knee hit the wet pavement, hard. With a small cry she tried to regain her footing. But the road was too slippery; the rain pressed on her shoulders like a heavy hand and she was quickly losing strength from fighting it.

Where was Harte? She squinted through the rain and held her breath, listening. The drumming roar of the rain was confusing and disorienting. It was impossible to tell where any sound came from.

Straining, she thought she heard Harte’s voice calling her name. But she couldn’t tell for sure. Heading in what she hoped was the right direction, she was tempted to call out, but what if it wasn’t him? Was she heading toward Harte or was she about to plow right into her pursuers?

She wiped her face on her sleeve, for all the good it did, and pushed her heavy, soaked hair back.

At that instant, the roar in her ears changed in pitch. She squinted, as if that would help her see. A dark rumble rose from beneath the rain’s din. The sound was not thunder, but mechanical, rhythmic. Like a car engine.

Frightened by the closeness of the sound, she felt the hairs on the nape of her neck prickling. She blinked, trying to see. Why didn’t Harte call out again? She couldn’t tell which way to run. The rumble grew louder, seeming to surround her.

Lightning flashed. She swallowed a shriek and barely stopped herself from diving to the ground, but from what little she could see around her, she was in the middle of a street, completely exposed. Thunder cracked and roared. She moaned in fear and frustration as she trudged on.

Pushing against the rising, punishing wind, she squinted, looking for anything she could use for shelter. A dark building loomed just ahead. Her pulse jumped in excitement.

She trudged toward it, hoping to slip into an alley or a corner where the car couldn’t go, praying that she could find Harte.

As she wiped rain off her nose, she thought she heard his voice again. But then a car door slammed right behind her. That sound was unmistakable—and way too close. Terror crawled up her spine and twisted her insides. She had to run. Lowering her head, she pressed forward, her legs beginning to ache with the effort of pushing against the wind and rain. She prayed she was going in the right direction.

The rain, the lightning and her imagination were distorting everything—what she saw, what she heard. She squinted against the gray rain. She could no longer see the building she’d been headed for.

Her toe struck something and sent her sprawling. Her hands took the brunt of the fall, sliding and scraping across rough wet concrete, and her shin banged painfully against a hard edge. She bit her cheek to keep from crying out.

She’d tripped over a curb. Behind her, heavy footsteps reverberated across the ground. She didn’t dare turn around to see, but she knew from the sound that they were almost on top of her. With a great deal of effort, she managed to get her feet under her and gain some traction. Just as she straightened, a bright flash of lightning lit the street. This time she couldn’t resist. She turned to look.

A large dark form barreled toward her, too big and broad to be Harte. In the same second, she heard Harte’s voice clearly.

“Dani!”

But it was impossible to pinpoint where it had come from. Directly in front of her? Ahead and to the left? She heard the man chasing her and wondered if she had time to dig her gun out of her purse. But he was too close. So close she could see color beginning to seep through the gray. The dark blob turned to a dull tan, and as he lumbered toward her she realized that it was a raincoat with the collar turned up. Although she’d already figured out that it wasn’t Harte, still her throat seized, cutting off her breath.

She tried to run and almost fell again when she put her weight on her knee. “Harte! Here! They’re after me!” she screamed. She didn’t care if the man in the raincoat heard her. He was so close that she imagined she could hear his heaving breaths over the downpour. Letting Harte know her location was her only chance.

“Harte!” she shouted again, but her voice was gobbled up by thunder. Then a strong hand grabbed the back of her shirt and jerked her off her feet.