The Bodyguard's Baby. Debra Webb

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СКАЧАТЬ down looking for that girl. And there she was, plain as day.” Ray sighed. “I don’t know how and I don’t know why, but it had to be her. I haven’t told anyone else yet. I hate to upset our Governor on the eve of an election.” He paused. “And, I figured you’d want to know first. I can give you a few hours head start, but then I’ll have to inform him.”

      Emotion squeezed Nick’s chest, he swallowed tightly. “I’m on my way.”

      Chapter One

      She was being followed.

      Oh God, no.

      Panic shot through Laura Proctor, the surge of adrenaline urging her forward. The November wind whipped her hair across her face as she turned toward the town’s square and scanned the sidewalk for the closest shop entrance. The last of autumn’s leaves ripped from the trees at the wind’s insistence, swirling and tumbling across the empty street. Someone bumped Laura’s shoulder as they walked by, making her aware that she had suddenly stopped when she should be running.

      Running for her life.

      Instinctively her feet carried her along with the handful of passing pedestrians. She hadn’t taken the time to disguise herself as she should have. The desire to avoid the possibility of being recognized was no longer a priority. The only thing that mattered now was finding a place to hide.

      Any place.

      She had to get away.

      To get back to her baby. She couldn’t be caught now.

      Not now.

      The knot of people crowding into the eastern entrance of the courthouse drew Laura’s frenzied attention.

      Election day. Thank God.

      Laura rushed deep into the chattering throng. Once up the exterior steps, she allowed herself to be carried by the crowd into the huge marbled lobby. Weaving between the exuberant voters, she made her way to the stairwell. Almost stumbling in her haste, Laura flew down the stairs leading to the basement level.

      If she could just make it to the west end, up the stairs, and onto the street on the opposite side of the square, she would be home free. She had to make it, she determined as she licked her dry lips. The alternative was unthinkable.

      Don’t dwell on the negative. Think, Laura, think!

      Okay, okay, she told herself as she glanced over her shoulder one last time before starting down the dimly lit, deserted corridor. If she cut through the alley next to Patterson’s Mercantile, then circled around behind the assortment of shops until she reached Vine Street, she would have a straight shot to the house.

      Mrs. Leeton’s house.

      And her son. God, she had to get to Robby.

      Laura skidded to a halt at the foot of the west stairs. “No,” she muttered, shaking her head. The door to the stairwell was draped with yellow tape. A handwritten sign read, Closed—Wet Paint. Laura grasped the knob and twisted, denial jetting through her.

      She was trapped.

      Laura blinked and forced herself to think harder.

      Slow, deliberate footsteps echoed in the otherwise complete silence. She swung around toward the sound. He was coming down the stairs. In mere seconds he would cross the landing and descend the final steps leading to the basement…

      To her.

      Oh God. She had to hide. Now! Laura ran to a door, but it was locked. As was the next, and the next. Why were all the offices locked?

      Election day.

      Only the office serving as the voting polls remained open today. Fear tightened its mighty grip, shattering all rational thought. Laura bolted for the next possibility. Blessedly, the ladies’ room door gave way, pushing inward with her weight. Moving silently past each unoccupied stall, Laura slipped inside the last one and closed the rickety old door behind her. She traced the flimsy lock with icy, trembling fingers only to find it broken. Climbing onto the toilet, she placed one foot on either side of the seat and hunkered into a crouch. Knowing her pursuer to be only seconds behind her, Laura uttered one more silent prayer.

      Trembling with the effort to remain perfectly still, she swallowed the metallic taste of fear and concentrated on slowing and quieting her breathing. The heart that had stilled in her chest, now slammed mercilessly against her rib cage. Laura refused to consider how he could have found her. She had been so careful since returning to Bay Break. She fought back a wave of tears as she briefly wondered just how much her brother was willing to pay the men he sent after his only sister.

      How could this keep happening?

      Why didn’t he just leave her alone?

      How did they keep finding her?

      And, God, what would happen to Robby if she were killed in the next three minutes as she fully expected to be if discovered? Anguish tore at her throat as she thought of her sweet, sweet baby. She wanted to scream…to cry…to run!

      Stupid! Stupid! How could she have been so careless? She should never have left the house without taking precautions to conceal her identity. But Mrs. Leeton had insisted that Doc needed her at the clinic—that it was urgent. After all Doc had done for her son, how could Laura have refused to go? She closed her eyes and banished the tears that would not help the situation.

      The slow groan of the bathroom door opening temporarily halted Laura’s galloping heart. Everything inside her stilled as her too-short life flashed before her eyes.

      She had failed.

      Failed herself.

      Failed to protect the only man she had ever loved.

      And, most important, failed to make the proper arrangements for her son’s safety in the event of this very moment.

      Now she would die.

      What would become of Robby? Who would care for him? Love him, as she loved him?

      No one.

      The answer twisted inside her like a mass of tangled barbed wire, shredding all hope. She had no one to turn to…no one to count on. A single tear rolled past her lashes and slid slowly down her cheek only to halt in a salty puddle at the corner of her mouth.

      Something deep and primal inside Laura snapped.

      By God, she wouldn’t go down without a fight.

      Laura’s heart pounded back to warp speed. She swallowed the bitter bile that had risen in her throat as she heard the whoosh of the door closing and the solid thunk of boot heels against the tile floor. Each harsh, seemingly deafening sound brought death one step closer.

      The first stall door banged against its enclosure as the hunter shoved the door inward looking for his prey. Then the second door, and the next and the next. Hinges whined and metal whacked against metal as he came ever closer to Laura’s hiding place.

      To her.

      Her heart climbed higher in her throat. Her breath СКАЧАТЬ