Hunted Read Online Free Page A

too.
    Mike joined her, immediately aware of the quiet of the place. There was an almost unnatural stillness. No birds, no cars, no airplanes overhead. The only sounds were the crunch of boots on snow and gravel and the wind in the pines. He shut his door and a patch of snow from an overhanging branch fell on the roof with a splat. It did feel good to be out of the damn car. He stretched, trying to ease the kinks, but it was useless. Everything felt stiff and all he wanted was a hot shower and bed. Unfortunately, he wouldn’t get either for a while. He saw a large woodpile at the side of the house. At least they could have a fire.
    Becky walked with him to the back door, and when he unlocked it, she started to go in. He grabbed her arm and pulled her back. “Let me check it out first.”
    She looked over at Sam, who was packing some snow into a ball. “I thought you said this place was safe.”
    “Doesn’t mean there won’t be a spider or two around. I'll just be a minute.”
    Becky watched him move into the house. The long trip and the awkward lunch had made it clear that this “vacation” was going to be difficult. All alone, away from the rest of the world, she and Mike would be forced to talk. To share the cooking and the cleaning. She shook her head. Share? If this turned out to be anything like the last few years of their marriage, Mike would find some perfectly reasonable excuse for being late for dinner. He would be too tired to help with the dishes. He would go to bed early, and then the phone would ring and he would leave and she would worry the rest of the night away.
    Sam was on the deck now, walking toward the boat dock. She followed him. The lake came right up to the rear of the house. In the summer it must be beautiful, but now the frozen water just looked forbidding. A chill shot through her, a cold shiver of terror. Someone was out there, somewhere, looking to hurt her and her child. Mike didn’t have to say the words; his actions had told her the truth. He wouldn’t have brought them to this isolated mountain unless they were in real danger. Would they be safe here?
    Becky looked around the desolate grounds, and knew she shouldn’t count on it. If Mojo wanted to track them down, he would. There wasn’t a fortress strong enough to stop him. No heroes on white chargers would save the day. If she thought it would do any good to pray, she would have. Instead, she gave her word to the sky and to the trees that she would do whatever she had to, to keep her son safe. No matter what.
    “Becky? Sam?”
    “Over here, Mike,” Becky called. She heard his boots on the deck as he came toward them.
    “The house is fine. I've turned on the gas, so it should warm up soon. Let’s get the bags inside, then I'll get a fire started.”
    “Look over there, Dad.” Sam pointed to a treeless bank. “That’s perfect for sledding. You think we could get a sled or an inner tube or something?”
    “I don’t know, Sam. Let’s just get inside and we'll talk about that later.”
    Sam didn’t put up a fight. He walked toward the car, his shoulders hunched forward, and kicked a fallen branch.
    Becky waited until he was out of earshot before she turned to Mike. “Don’t keep chasing him back to that damn computer of his. Can’t you see that he’s too quiet?” She sighed. “Look who I'm telling. He’s just like you.”
    He stared at her, his cheeks ruddy in the cold wind. He looked tired and thin, but he was still Mike. Still dangerous. The man used to steal her breath with a glance. His brown hair was a mess and needed a trim. It was below his collar and ragged. He hadn’t shaved in almost two days—she could tell by the length of his whiskers. She knew just how those whiskers would feel on her cheeks. They would be sharp and prickly, and he would rub her skin on purpose until she laughed and made him go shave.
    She had to look away.
    Mike went to get the suitcases from the car while she moved inside. The