Never Surrender Read online

  He started the engine, checked the rearview mirror for traffic, and put the car into reverse. As he backed out, his backpack fell onto the floor, scattering the mail. An envelope with keller in bold lettering grabbed his attention. He drove back into the parking space, shoved the car into neutral, picked up the envelope, and ripped it open. Once he’d lifted out the folded slip of paper, he shook it open. A sigh hissed from between clenched teeth.

  you and your bitch are dead.

  He was of two minds: screw up the paper and throw it out the window, or take it to James so he could give it to his forensic guys. No, he couldn’t ignore it. Someone sent it to him for a reason. Why, he had no idea. Why tip off the person you were trying to destroy? It didn’t make sense. If it was one of his fellow cops, the chances of finding any evidence was miniscule, but at this stage, anything was worth a try.

  He cautiously slipped the sheet back into the envelope. At least one question had definitely been answered. They knew he was involved with Maggie. Now all he had to figure out was who they were.

  As he backed out of the parking bay, his neck prickled as if he were a voodoo doll and someone was using a damned big needle. He checked out the other cars. Way too many to see if anyone watched him. He rolled his neck to release tension. Time to get back to Maggie.

  Traffic flowed smoothly along the motorway. Quinn constantly checked his mirrors. Someone followed him. He could feel it. Another glance over his shoulder. If he was being tailed, they were good.

  He turned off the freeway before checking his watch. Damn, it was later than he hoped. But not much he could do about it. Once that letter was in James’s hands, he would feel better. Had Maggie given James all the information he’d need to find Angel?

  Suddenly metal crunched, and his vehicle lurched sideways. “What the hell?” He cursed loudly and, looking out the side window, spotted the Falcon just as it prepared to ram him again. “Moron.” He snarled and pulled the wheel hard left.

  The car fell slightly behind.

  Quinn pulled back into the right lane and checked his rearview mirror. They were gaining. He knew the roads around here well, so he’d use that to his advantage. He stomped the accelerator hard, and the Pajero surged forward. The pursuing vehicle had no distinguishing features and drove level with him. Heavily tinted side windows prevented him seeing how many he was up against. It could have been an unmarked police car, a sleeper. The Ford was built for speed. On the road, it could easily outrun him, so why ram? Maybe they wanted to slow him enough to do further damage. Quinn smiled. He could almost feel the other driver’s breath on his neck. Bring it.

  He slowed and was rammed again. Determined to control this, he shoved the car into four-wheel drive, pulled the steering wheel hard left, and tore into the bush over the rockiest, shrubbiest terrain he could find. He didn’t think the idiot in the Falcon would follow. When he did, Quinn steered his car deeper into the rough landscape, avoiding larger rocks as he did. Ahead, large stones lay spread at uneven distances across the path. He drove straight for them, thankful for the higher ground clearance he’d paid for when he bought the top-of-the-range Pajero. He watched through the rearview mirror as the Ford bounced, slid, then came to a crumpled halt on one of the stones he’d effortlessly cleared.

  He pulled up and watched.

  No movement came from the Ford. Quinn wanted to grab the driver out by the scruff of his neck and squeeze some answers out of him…or her. He acknowledged that particular scenario as fantasy and concentrated on the reality. He could be outnumbered. They possibly had guns.

  Quinn planted the accelerator and shot off in a spray of stones and dust.

  He pulled out his phone and pressed the numbers for James’s home on his cell. It was answered within a few rings. “It’s me.” He heard Maggie’s laughter in the background.

  “Hey, man, what’s taken so long?”

  “Let me talk to Maggie.” Quinn cut him off, grateful James didn’t ask questions.

  “Where are you?” Maggie asked.

  Her husky voice sent a ripple of heat through him. “Maggie, listen.” He filled her in briefly on what happened, pleased she remained calm.

  “I’ll look after things from this end. We’ll be ready as soon as you get here.”

  Quinn cut the connection and checked his rearview mirror. Nothing. He’d take the long route to James’s. If anyone followed him, they’d be well and truly lost before he turned into the drive.

  The situation was escalating. When he suggested Maggie use James to find Angel, he didn’t think he would put James and his family at risk. But James knew the score. He’d been a cop for years, and he’d have reassessed the situation as soon as Maggie gave him the latest info. James wasn’t a worry.

  How would Maggie handle it? She, too, was a professional. But for her, this case was personal. With one young girl dead and the other missing, he knew she blamed herself for taking them out without backup. But what was to say both girls wouldn’t have turned up dead if she didn’t act when she did?

  Murdering the caretaker was part of the setup. A postmortem had to be done. Bullet to the head at point-blank range was the call so far. Why kill an old man? Did they enjoy it? Did it give them a hard-on? That cops were involved in this… He thumped the steering wheel. And Maggie screwed the guy in charge. Don’t go there.

  Quinn continued to drive around in ever-narrowing circles until he got to James’s. It might be pointless, since they knew James was his mate. They could be there already. Respond, don’t react. They were probably too dense to think he’d ask for help, but he would nail the bastards.

  It was that simple.

  When Quinn arrived at James’s, Maggie walked across the yard to him as he pulled into the driveway. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

  She rested her hand against his chest, and his heart thudded harder.

  “Everything’s done,” Maggie stated. “We have a change of clothes each. James has given me a mobile and a petrol card, so any purchases will go directly to his account.” She reached into the back pocket of her jeans and withdrew a leather wallet. “He’s also put money into this for you.” She smiled. “We are as untraceable as we can make ourselves.”

  “We have to get going,” Quinn insisted covering her hand with his and, feeling the softness of her skin, didn’t want to let go.

  “Sure,” Maggie said.

  Quinn hoisted the bag containing their clothes and a laptop and headed toward the Cruiser parked on the drive.

  “She’s fast, very fast.” James opened the doors and passed Quinn the keys.

  Maggie climbed into the Cruiser and slipped on her seat belt. As they were about to leave, Lydia shoved an envelope into her hand.

  “It’s a key for our cabin in the hinterland. It’s stocked. We were supposed to use it last weekend but had to cancel. The address and directions are in there. Use it if you need to. Take care.”

  James leaned in the driver’s window. “Don’t worry about Angel. As soon as we find her, we’ll contact you. I’ll check for prints on that damned note. Concentrate on finding Roberts. He’s a link in this mess.” James slapped Quinn on the back and stepped away from the car.

  “Ready?” Quinn asked.

  Maggie met his gaze, fierce determination stamped onto her features. Their plan was basic. Drive to Roberts’s home. Gain entry. Look for Roberts. Find evidence to help shut the case. She nodded.

  Quinn drove off without a backward glance.

  Chapter Nine

  Quinn had driven for an hour, and they were barely on the outskirts of Brisbane’s northern suburbs when he double-checked the rearview mirror. Again.

  “Are we being followed?” Maggie asked.

  “Just being cautious.” After another quick glance into the rearview, he hit the indicator switch and jumped two lanes. “Frigg’n traffic. We should have been halfway there by now.” His fingers drummed the steering wheel.

  “I’ll take over driving.”

  He nodded.
“We’ll swap after we stop for something to eat.”

  “Okay.”

  If he were any more tense, he’d snap. He rolled his shoulders to ease the rigidity of his posture. The traffic crawled along. He could run faster. He ripped off his tie, threw it into the back, and managed to fold his sleeves up.

  “How did you get on with James?”

  Maggie pushed her bangs back. “He’s very professional.”

  Quinn smiled. “So not good?”

  “I wanted to punch his lights out, but Lydia eased the tension.” She smiled. “I enjoyed spending time in the real world with ordinary people. I feel mentally stronger.”

  “That’s great.” He glanced at her. “We were an ordinary couple, once.” Shut up, Quinn.

  Maggie turned to stare out the side window. He almost reached out to touch her. Almost. Silence filled the car. He was reaching for conversation when Maggie spoke.

  “Back then, you encouraged me in every aspect of my career except undercover work. You never understood why it was so important to me, no matter how I explained it. You emphasized the danger, not just the physical, but how it could rupture the spirit. It was a massive bone of contention between us, Quinn.” Her voice was soft.

  “Yeah?”

  “I wished I’d listened.”

  He reached over and stroked her leg.

  Maggie continued. “I’ve always had to learn the hard way. When I was fifteen, I ran away from home, because I didn’t want my best friend, Tara, to be alone out on the streets.” She shuddered. “I hated it and was so grateful when my parents found me and dragged me back. They brought Tara as well.” She sighed. “But Tara’s parents couldn’t control her, and she took off again. Felice was devastated, she adored her sister.”

  “Back up a minute. Felice was you best friend’s sister? Is that why you’re friends now?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did Tara ever come home?”

  “No, but I heard from her once more.”

  Quinn heard the break in her voice and wanted to drag her into his arms, offer some comfort.

  “She called me one night, begging for help. I found her. She was bones in rags, and she died of a drug overdose in my arms.” Her breath hitched. “I often wondered if…”

  “Maggie, let it go.”

  “I keep trying, but guilt is a bitch.” She sighed. “Felice and I made a vow after Tara died to become police officers, to make the world a safer place.”

  They drove in silence for a while.

  “There’s a roadhouse up ahead. Let’s get some food. Then you can drive,” Quinn said.

  She nodded.

  Quinn pulled into the driveway and parked at the back of the roadhouse away from the other vehicles. They climbed out. Quinn shoved his feet hard onto the ground, stretched the kinks out of his body, then walked around to Maggie, who still sat in the car.

  Quinn pulled open the door. “You okay?”

  She didn’t answer. Her hands lay folded in her lap, and she gazed into the night.

  “Maggie?”

  When she faced him, the tracks of her tears were visible. She sighed “Raking up old ghosts hurts.” She climbed out of the car.

  Quinn wasn’t immune to her pain. “Come here.” He tugged her into his arms and hugged her close, hoping the embrace would ease her sorrow.

  Her heat seeped into his blood and trekked through his body. She felt too damned good.

  He stepped away. “Let’s go.”

  “Quinn.”

  He turned to face her. “What.”

  She smiled. “There was never anything ordinary about our relationship.”

  “Amen to that.” He draped his arm across her shoulders. “Let’s go eat.”

  Typical of roadhouses throughout Queensland, this one had booths with faded-blue, vinyl benches on either side of an aisle of scuffed, white tiles. It wasn’t new, but it was clean. The smell of onions frying on the grill filled the air.

  Quinn chose a booth at the rear of the room and sat with his back to the wall to keep watch. Maggie sat beside him. The waitress came to their table and took their order with a minimum of fuss.

  A short time later, two burgers with the lot were placed in front of them. A basket of thick, crunchy chips sat in the middle of the table, and they sipped mugs of steaming, strong coffee with appreciation.

  “Quinn, eat while it’s hot.” Maggie rested her hand against this thigh.

  He sucked in a breath as her fingers moved back and forth, sending heat straight to his groin. He wanted to grab her hand and guide it higher to where his erection was straining against his zipper, to feel her cup him, squeeze him. He shook his head to dispel the fantasy. Ignoring his arousal, he took a bite out of the burger, pushed the plate away, and went back to his perusal of the establishment, never taking his eyes from the door. Overcautious, maybe, nonetheless he found himself scanning the other patrons, looking for signs of trouble.

  The busy establishment catered to everyone from families to truckers. Quinn watched Maggie focus her attention on a young mother trying to control her unruly little one.

  “I don’t know how she does it,” Maggie said as the mother scooped the child into her arms, stopping his tantrum. “I can stand toe-to-toe with adversaries, but contemplating caring for a toddler full time gives me hives.”

  Quinn laughed and went back to guarding. Maggie nudged his arm, and he dragged his eyes from the door and stared at her. He could lose himself in those eyes.

  Maggie pushed the plate toward him. “Eat, and I’ll protect.” She put one hand in the air and the other over her heart. “I promise.”

  She had his attention and gave him that smile. The smile that encouraged her dimple to come out of hiding. The same smile that always turned Quinn’s thoughts carnal. He gulped another mouthful of coffee and continued scrutinizing the diner as he ate the rest of his burger.

  Quinn pushed back his now-empty plate and grabbed the coffee mug. “You ready to go?”

  “Yes and no.”

  He turned fully toward her and met her eyes but said nothing, allowing her the time to sort her thoughts.

  “Yes, because I want this case to be finished.” She looked up into his eyes. “And no, because I’m sick about what we might find.”

  “I don’t believe Roberts is simply missing.” He put his mug down. He ran his knuckle down the side of her face. “I feel it here.” He patted his belly.

  Maggie’s eyes slid down his body, and her cheeks flushed as she stared at him.

  Quinn picked up his coffee and drained the cup. Focus, Keller. With determination, he shoved his longing for her back into its cage. There was a case to close. “Ready to get your life back?” He threw out the challenge, knowing she wouldn’t refuse.

  “Yeah, I am. No more hiding. No more stupid excuses.”

  Chapter Ten

  After returning to the Cruiser, they moved on toward their destination. Quinn checked the side mirror and glanced over his shoulder. Maggie sat behind the wheel, and they were making good time. Peak hour traffic had eased while they ate dinner, and the road ran arrow-straight.

  “I’ve checked every few kilometers. There’s no one tailing us.”

  “That’s what I thought earlier, ’til those bastards rammed me.”

  “Are you going to tell me what happened in the meeting?” Shooting him a quick look, she added, “No soft sell.”

  Quinn stretched his arm out along the seat behind her and positioned himself so he could watch her as he talked.

  “Pigs¸” she hissed. Her knuckles turned white as they gripped the steering wheel as though it were someone’s throat.

  “The positive is now we know cops are involved, and we can prepare ourselves.”

  “How?” It exploded from her like a shot from a gun. “We know nothing. We don’t even know who these cops are. It could be anybody.”

  “Yeah, but we know how cops work. We’ll be able to see the signs.”

  “No offense, but you di
dn’t see them coming at you this afternoon. You have no idea how in hell that letter got in your pigeonhole at HQ. We know diddly-squat.”

  “Bullshit. We have the USB, a damned crucial piece of evidence that may help identify the cops who’ve been playing both sides. We have a witness. Fair enough, she might be hiding at the moment, but James will find her. With those two bits of evidence, we’ll figure the rest out.”

  Maggie concentrated on the road. Quinn knew she was worried about the kid, but he believed if anyone could find her, it would be James. He looked around to gauge their whereabouts.

  The Glass House Mountains stood as craggy shadows in the night. With few routes to Montville, Quinn chose to take the most roundabout way to throw anyone who may have followed them off the scent. “There’s a turn ahead just outside Beerwah. Take that.”

  “But Roberts lives in Montville,” Maggie said.

  “We’re taking the scenic route.”

  “Fine. What do you think we’re going to find at his house?” Her fingers tapped against the steering wheel.

  “Answers or at least a solid clue.”

  She indicated and pulled off the highway. “Where to?”

  “Follow this road ’til you get to the next town. There’s a small road that cuts through and meets up with the main road to Maleny.”

  She nodded. “Have you been to his home before?”

  “Last year. Went up for his wife’s funeral. The house is set back from the road, but the gate’s distinctive. We’ll find it easily enough.”

  The side road was partly paved with bitumen, and they were thrown around in the nonsealed sections. It wasn’t a comfortable ride even in the luxurious Cruiser. Quinn enjoyed watching Maggie wrestle with the steering wheel as the car hit another deep rut. She managed to pull the four-wheel-drive Cruiser straight and grinned at the fight the vehicle gave her.