In Seconds (24 page)

Seeming anxious not to miss a minute of her program, Trudie handed him his bag with an absentminded, “Thank you. Come again,” and returned to her stool.

It was time to launch into his spiel. “Excuse me, but… I’m hoping you can help me.”

She looked at him for the first time.

“I’m searching for my sister,” he began. “She’s about five-ten and—”

He didn’t get any farther before Trudie’s gaze flicked
toward a flyer taped to the side of her register. Then her eyes widened and she nearly fell off her stool.

Almost as surprised as she was, L.J. checked the flyer to see what was wrong—and saw a picture of him and Ink beneath the heading Sheriff’s Notice. A phone number and an explanation had been printed on there, as well, but he didn’t take the time to read it. He didn’t need to. He knew what that flyer was, just as he knew Trudie had recognized him.

Leaving the snacks and the condoms, he bolted out the door and jumped into the passenger seat of the truck. “Go! Go! Go!”

Ink didn’t pause to question him. Evidently the terror on his face was enough to get an immediate response. Heedless of any back pain he might be suffering, Ink shoved the gearshift into Reverse and launched the vehicle backward, only to shift again before they could even come to a stop.

Positive that they were about to have an accident, L.J. closed his eyes. He knew Ink couldn’t be watching for oncoming traffic. He was too busy putting some distance between them and that store. L.J. was more afraid of getting arrested than crashing, anyway. He’d bought and sold drugs, and he’d beat up a few people, but he’d never considered doing the shit Ink had gotten him into. Shooting those hunters. Beating that real-estate agent to death. Getting that woman in L.A. killed. If they got busted, he’d go down for all of it.

Rocks smacked the undercarriage like machine-gun fire as their backend fishtailed and their tires spun gravel. But once they reached the pavement, they had traction and lurched forward with greater power. Miraculously, Ink managed to bring the truck under control, and they
hurtled away from the little grocery store without hitting anything. But only because the road was clear.

Grabbing the rearview mirror, L.J. turned it so he could see if Trudie had come out of the store. He didn’t want her to jot down their license plate number. Then the sheriff would be able to trace the plate and figure out it belonged to the men they’d killed.

All he could see was a big cloud of dust; that was probably all she could see, too.

“What happened in there?” Ink asked once Pineview had disappeared from sight.

“She recognized me!” He hadn’t bothered with his seat belt. He braced himself with one hand on the door and the other on the dash, eyeing the rearview mirror to see if a cop car would come racing up from behind.

Ink smacked the seat between them. “How? What the hell happened?”

L.J.’s heart seemed to be chugging harder than the pistons in the engine. “How should I know? I went in and asked about my long-lost sister, like usual. At first the woman seemed fine, but then she stared at me as if she’d swallowed a marble. I wasn’t sure what was going on until I saw the flyer.”

“What flyer?”

“A sheriff’s bulletin with my picture on it. Yours, too.”

Ink cursed. He was so worked up he didn’t seem to be slowing down.

Now that they were safely away, L.J. felt there was no reason to draw attention by speeding. Getting pulled over would put an end to their freedom, possibly for life. “Hey, can you take it easy?”

“You want me to take it easy?” Ink snapped.

The wildness in his eyes frightened L.J. and he let go
of the armrest long enough to motion for his partner to calm down. “Whoa! We need to blend in, not stand out, right?”

Ink didn’t like being told what to do. L.J. had never seen anyone get angry quicker or for less reason. He was always looking for a fight. But he seemed to see the logic in L.J.’s words because he eased up on the gas. “We’re going to find her.”

“Of course we will.” L.J. just hoped they’d find her soon. Because until then, his own safety was in jeopardy.

Ink commandeered the rearview mirror and checked it every few seconds. “So what did you do when she recognized you?”

“What do you think? I ran out before she could call the cops.”

“Why didn’t you shoot her? Dead people can’t talk.”

The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. Murder wasn’t his answer to everything. “I wasn’t the only shopper in there, that’s why. There was a mother and two kids.”

“There weren’t any other vehicles outside.”

“They must’ve walked.”

Somehow Ink knew he was lying. “You can’t be too scared to use that gun, man.”

“I’m not scared,” he grumbled. “I just don’t see any reason to kill people unless I have to.”

“You should’ve put a plug in her.”

Bullshit. That was only going to get him into more trouble. He had to escape from this psychopath. The sooner, the better. He just wasn’t sure how to go about it. If he left now, Ink would find Laurel, kill her, then come after him. And if Ink ever caught up with him…

“Do you have a death wish or something?” he asked.
“Because they’re gonna go for the death penalty when they get hold of you.”

“They won’t get hold of me.” He must not have seen anything worrisome coming up from behind because he made the turn that led to their cabin and they rode in silence for the next twenty minutes.

Once they pulled into the drive, L.J. stared out at the growing darkness. He was thinking about the men Ink had shot and the stomach-churning process of burying them. He wondered about their families, whether or not they had children. This was all so senseless. His life was turning into a nightmare. He didn’t feel big or bad, like he thought he would. He just felt like shit. Worse than shit, because he knew how ashamed his grandfather would be.

“What are we going to do?” he asked. “We can’t go back into town. Not with all those flyers everywhere.”

“We’ll wait until it’s too dark to see us clearly.”

He had an answer for everything. They hadn’t shaved since they left the California Men’s Colony, but his beard growth hadn’t stopped Trudie from recognizing him. “And what if it doesn’t work? In another day or two, every one in town will have seen that flyer.”

“That’s why we’ve got to go back tonight. But we’ll wait another hour or so, let things die down.”

Bile rose in L.J.’s throat. “Are you joking? We can’t go back there.”

“We have no choice. And we need to do it soon, or you’re right—it’s only gonna get harder.”

It was already hard enough. “That’s asking for trouble. We’re screwed, you know that.”

Ink shut off the engine. “No, we’re not.”

L.J. didn’t move. He’d pissed himself rushing out of
that damn grocery store, and there was no way he wanted Ink to see the wet spot on his jeans. He’d never live it down.

Fortunately, it was getting darker by the minute. In a little while it would be too dark to see that small detail, especially way the hell out here. “How can you be so sure?”

Ink met his gaze. “I remembered her name.”

L.J. didn’t immediately follow. “What are you talking about?”

“Laurel’s daughter. I remember her name!”

This wasn’t exciting news. L.J. had been a fool to come to Montana with Ink, but…now that he was here, he had to get through it the best he could until he found a way out. He’d been so set on becoming a Crew member. Now he couldn’t imagine why. If they were anything like Ink, then Ink was right. He wasn’t cut out for it. “How?”

“Don’t know. When you came out screaming, it just popped into my head. Can you believe it?”

Frankly he couldn’t. What if Ink only
thought
he knew the name? It didn’t make sense that he couldn’t remember it for so long and then suddenly there it was. Was Ink bullshitting him? “You’re dreaming.”

“Dreaming?” Ink echoed. “You mean lying, don’t you? But I’m not. And even if I was, it’s not your place to question me.”

Question him? What was he, L.J.’s father? L.J. had never had a father, and he didn’t want one now, especially a freaking psychopath only fifteen years older than he was. “We almost got caught back there!”

“I’m telling you we’re going to be able to find her now. Then we’ll get the hell out of here.”

Finding her wouldn’t save the day. Too much shit had
already gone down. L.J. was pretty sure he was headed for death row no matter what. “But she might’ve changed her daughter’s name, too. Or given her up for adoption. Or maybe she…she died of a childhood disease. This solves nothing. Let’s leave Montana. Get out. Revenge isn’t worth spending the rest of our lives in prison. Or worse.”

“You gotta be kidding me.”

L.J. had the impression that Ink would kill him right here, right now, if he did or said anything more to defy him. “All I’m saying is…we’re taking a risk.” He hated himself for backing off, but Ink was too unpredictable, too volatile.

“That’s what I thought.” Ink opened his door. “Anyway, you’ll see. She wouldn’t give this kid up. And she didn’t change the kid’s name—that would confuse the little bitch. Laurel isn’t the kind of mother who’d want to cause her precious babies any pain.”

“How do you know?”

L.J. couldn’t believe he’d dared ask another question. He wanted to kick himself when Ink’s attention swung back to him and those cold eyes riveted onto his face, but Ink seemed to have snapped out of psycho mode.

“I’ve seen how hard she tries to protect them.”

With a sigh, L.J. thrust a hand through his hair. He was as trapped as he’d ever been in prison, maybe more so. In another hour, they’d be cruising through town, risking their futures again. “But is her daughter’s name different enough that people will know who we’re talking about?”

When Ink smiled, it was the coldest smile L.J. had ever seen. If he’d needed proof that Ink was crazy, there it was. Jack Nicholson in
The Shining
had nothing on
him. “People will know who we’re talking about. How many little girls in this town are called Mia?”

Not many, as L.J. soon learned. When they returned to town, they found a woman who was just locking up Chrissy’s Nice Twice store. Afraid his usual spiel would only alert her to trouble, especially after what had happened at that grocery store, L.J. approached with a frown. “Darn, you’re closed?”

The woman pivoted to face him. “We closed several hours ago, actually. Why, is there something you need?”

“I was hoping to buy a gift for my niece, Mia. Maybe you know her?”

“Vivian Stewart’s daughter?”

He had no idea, but he figured it’d be smarter to play along. “Yes.”

She hitched her purse higher on her shoulder while juggling a box of files and an armful of clothing he guessed she was taking home to wash or mend. “Oh, I know the whole family. Mia goes to school with my daughter.”

“Can I help you with that?”

Smiling in relief, she allowed him to take the box. “What did you have in mind?”

“Maybe a pretty dress? You know, just a nice surprise since I’m visiting from out of town and haven’t seen her in a couple years.”

“Did you want a present for Jake, too?”

He felt a rush of relief and foreboding at the same time. He had the right person. Ink had mentioned that Mia had a brother. But he knew what that would mean…?. “Of course. That’d be perfect.”

“I can help you. Come on in.” Pleased to have a paying customer despite the late hour, she reopened her store and
did exactly as she’d promised. She helped him choose a dress for Mia and some sporting equipment for Jake, whom she admitted liking better than anyone else in the family. Then, as he stood at the register to pay, he said he was afraid he might have trouble finding the address, since he’d never visited before.

So she drew him a map.

W
hen he saw Vivian’s Blazer turn down their street, Myles breathed a huge sigh of relief. Arriving home to find that she was still gone at nearly eleven o’clock had left him with a growing sense of panic. He’d asked the deputies he had on duty to look for her or her vehicle, but when no one was able to spot it, he couldn’t help wondering if Ink and Lloyd had bumped into her after tearing out of Trudie’s Grocery—and dragged her into the woods.

With such terrible thoughts churning in his mind, he’d been cursing himself for not going with her this morning and sticking with her all day. That would’ve been the only sure way to protect her. He’d briefly considered doing so when he saw her packing up. But Rex was there, at least for half the trip. Myles had decided his own time would be better spent in Pineview, trying to catch these guys. But he hadn’t made as much progress as he’d hoped.

While she parked, he waited on the porch steps so she’d see him. He didn’t want her to be frightened. He also didn’t want her to shoot him.

“Where’ve you been?” he called as she got out. He couldn’t hide the concern in his voice, but he figured he was allowed to feel concerned. He was the sheriff. It was
his job to care about the people in his jurisdiction. The fact that he was more worried about her than he would’ve been about anyone else made him wish he could’ve left Campbell here, or assigned someone else to keep her safe through the night. But he lived right next door; he was the obvious choice.

She checked to make sure the street was clear before hurrying toward him.

“It’s true, you know,” he went on. “The Crew is here. Two guys. They killed Pat, and now they’re looking for you. A few hours ago they went into Trudie’s Grocery, asking for Laurel Hodges. I got the call on my way home, and rushed over there, but we couldn’t find any trace of them.”

Her shoulders slumped. “Did Trudie get their license plate number at least?”

“No, she fell when she was trying to hurry outside. They were gone by the time she made it.”

She reached him and jogged up the porch steps. “Is she okay?”

“Bruised and a little spooked but otherwise okay.”

“Claire saw them, too,” she said. “So now you understand why you can’t stand out in front of my house. It’s like painting a red bull’s-eye on your chest. These people won’t care that you’re a cop. They’d rather kill a cop than anyone else. Except for me—or Virgil, Peyton and Rex.” She brushed past him, fumbling with her keys, and nearly dropped them in her rush to get the door open.

“And now you know why I was so worried.” He could hear the edge to his own voice. But it was the relief flowing through him, and the way his body reacted whenever she came close, that bothered him.

“Hang on a sec.” She was so focused on getting inside
that she couldn’t concentrate on anything else. Her hands shook as she tried to put the key in the lock, so he insisted on taking over.

The second the tumbler fell, she pulled him inside with her. Then she locked the door and sagged against it. “Welcome home, huh?” she said with a weak grin.

He understood so much more about her behavior now, and he had to sympathize. She’d been living in fear all the time. Hiding. Watching. Worrying. Dodging the kind of relationships that might threaten her cover. No wonder she was so guarded. And yet, even after all that, the people she’d been hoping to escape were coming after her again. That she fully believed she might not survive the next few days was apparent from the pallor of her skin. Just coming home had been a terrifying ordeal, knowing she could be shot walking to her front door.

But he didn’t want to feel sorry for her or admire her courage or anything else. He wanted to do his job, professionally, unemotionally. That was all. If the way he’d felt since seeing Rex in Vivian’s kitchen had taught him anything, it was that he wasn’t ready to care again. Not that much.

Although they hadn’t turned on any lights, he could see her in the moonlight streaming through the side windows. “So where have you been?” He’d already asked, but he wanted an answer. “With Claire?”

She nodded. “I was reluctant to come home. And she was pretty reluctant to let me.”

“You should’ve stayed at her place.”

“And have them track me there instead? No.”

“Does she know what’s going on?”

“Yes, I told her.”

“What’d she say?”

“She couldn’t believe it, but she wasn’t angry, like I expected. She probably would’ve been, except she’d just seen Ink and whoever he’s with.”

“Where?”

Vivian seemed so weary. He wished he could do something to bolster her strength, to reassure her that this would end well, but he had no guarantee. “At Mailboxes Plus. They were in a white truck. But you don’t need to rush over there. They’re gone now.”

“What I need to do is set up some surveillance on this place. But with summer vacations, I’m short-staffed. Tomorrow’s the earliest I’ll be able to pull that together.”

“I assume we’re okay for tonight, anyway,” she responded. “If they’re still asking around town for me, they don’t know where I live. And that close call at Trudie’s should’ve rattled them a bit, made them less likely to approach people. Most guys would keep their heads down for a while, wouldn’t they?”

He frowned. “There’s no way to be sure. I’d start surveillance tonight if I could. I just don’t have the manpower and keeping you safe is my priority. I’m having a deputy drive by every hour or so. It’s not a lot, but…”

“At least we know what Ink and his friend are driving,” she said. “That might come in handy later.”

“Except white trucks are probably the most common vehicle around here. I didn’t realize that until I started looking for them.” He noticed that she kept rubbing her stomach. “Are you okay?”

She dropped her hand. “I’m alive. That’s about all I can hope for right now.”

“You should’ve told me before.”

“About…”

“The Crew.”

“And how would that have changed things?”

He didn’t have an answer. He just felt she should’ve trusted him.

Closing her eyes again, she rested her head against the door. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“Why didn’t you call me tonight, let me know where you were? Didn’t you realize I’d assume the worst if you didn’t come home?”

She reached for her hair, seemed to remember there was nothing left to tuck behind her ears and shoved her fingers through it instead. “No. I was too busy trying to convince Claire that we weren’t going to flee town.”

This distracted him. He’d known Claire practically since the day he’d moved here, liked her. But she could be as evasive as Vivian. “She wanted to go with you?”

“She’s not happy here. There are too many memories. She’s wanted to leave for a long time.”

“Why doesn’t she?”

“Leanne.” A speculative expression settled over her face. “Do you think her stepfather killed her mother, Myles?”

He was surprised she’d ask in the middle of her own crisis, but he supposed it was a distraction of sorts, easier to deal with than the danger she faced. So many people had asked him the same question since he’d come to Pine view. For Leanne and Claire’s sake, he’d always said no. He didn’t want the truth to get back to them, to make their lives any more difficult—especially because he could be wrong. “I can’t answer honestly. And I think you know why.”

She tilted her head. “You thought I should trust you with my identity, my life.”

And yet he wouldn’t trust her with something as small
as his opinion on this matter. “Fine. Just between you and me?”

She nodded.

“I think it’s more likely than any other scenario.”

She chuckled without mirth. “It’s always the husband.”

“
Almost
always,” he corrected.

“That’s especially sad in this case. Claire worships her stepfather.”

“If she suspected him, she’d lose both parents, because then she couldn’t love him. It’s classic denial.”

“I’ve had a bit of experience with that. Some people are capable of terrible things.”

He wanted to shed the weight of his utility belt, get out of his uniform, but he hadn’t decided how he was going to handle keeping her safe. He knew what he wanted to do, but he wasn’t sure Vivian would cooperate. “How’d Claire let you out of her sight?”

“I insisted. And then Leanne came over and needed her.”

“That’s about the only thing that would do it. She puts Leanne above all else. But she cares about you.”

“She has to stay away from me until this is over.” She finally seemed recovered enough to move. “Shall we go upstairs or down?”

“Excuse me?”

“We have to get off the ground floor.” She waved around them. “We’ll be safer without all these windows.”

“Up would be better.” Then he could see out, but whoever was looking in couldn’t get to them without coming up the stairs.

“Up, it is.”

He followed her to her bedroom. Decorated in beige and black, it contained a canopy-style bed made of iron
and surrounded by sheer black fabric held back with big, drooping beige ties. Aside from the bed, there was the kind of chair usually found in a garden, paired with an antique dresser. Probably twenty old clocks covered one wall. But it was the elaborate chandelier hanging from the ceiling that somehow brought it all together.

As different as it was, he liked it. “I’m surprised Rex was willing to leave you here alone.” He stood in the doorway because he wasn’t too sure about venturing inside.

“You saw him.” She put her gun on the bed before kicking off her shoes. “He had no choice.”

“What’s wrong with him? Besides his drug addiction?”

“Nothing’s wrong with him, other than that.” She held up a hand in the classic stop position. “And don’t judge him, please. He’s had a hard life. I…I owe him a lot.”

“Are you still in love with him?” Myles couldn’t believe he’d asked that question. He’d told himself he wouldn’t go anywhere near her relationship with Rex, because it didn’t matter one way or the other. She wasn’t the right person for him. He needed someone with whom he could feel a bit more…indifferent. Someone nice, pleasant, a reliable companion but no one who could steal his breath with just a look.

She seemed intent on formulating her answer. Sitting on her bed, she crossed her legs. “Maybe a little.”

He wished he hadn’t asked. Her answer was too honest not to hurt. And how she felt was none of his business, especially since he still didn’t know whether he was ready to let go of Amber Rose to the point that falling in love with someone else would require. “He needs to get some help.”

“My brother will take care of that, if Rex will let him. If he won’t, there’s nothing anyone can do. Trust me. But I wasn’t finished answering your question.”

“You said yes,” he reminded her.

“I said
a little.
I think I’ll always feel
something
for him. If you knew what we’ve been through, what he’s done for both me and my brother, you’d understand. But I’ll never go back to him. What we had is over.”

“Getting serious with someone like that would be trouble. But that’s just a piece of friendly advice.” He leaned against the door frame. “It doesn’t matter to me one way or another.”

Her forehead creased. “Is that so?”

Unable to meet her gaze, he bent to pick up a penny he saw on the carpet. “Yes.”

“You’re putting me on notice that you’re no longer interested?”

“Just keeping the promise you made me give you at the cabin.”

“To find someone else for your next sexual encounter.”

He knew the reason she’d required that promise was no longer valid. Her secret was out; as far as he knew she had nothing left to hide. But that was just the point. Now that she had no reason to deny him, he was afraid of how hard he might fall if she started saying yes. “If you want to spell it out.”

“Fine.” She cleared her throat. “You—you’re not why I stayed, in case you were wondering. There are a lot of other things here in Pineview. Good things.”

“I agree.”

A hard lump had formed in the pit of his stomach, but he forced himself to move on. “So what’s your plan?
Don’t tell me you’re just going to hang around and wait for the worst.”

“That’s about my only option, isn’t it?” She shrugged but there was a tension in her body that hadn’t been there before. He could see it in the way she held herself. “I’m the bait that’ll draw them out.”

He felt his eyebrows shoot up. “And then what?”

“As far as plans go, it’s not complicated. I try to kill them before they kill me.”

“Have you ever killed anyone before?”

“No. But I’ve seen men killed.” Her voice fell until he could scarcely hear her. “And I’ve been the reason others have died.”

As terrible as that must have been, it wasn’t the same. That was outside her control. This wouldn’t be. She’d have to squeeze the trigger herself. But he didn’t see the point in trying to differentiate. “That doesn’t matter. If you think I’m going to let you go it alone, you’re crazy.”

“You don’t have any choice. I don’t want you involved. These men…nothing deters them. I couldn’t take it if someone else was killed. Maybe you don’t think much of me after everything that’s happened, but I…I don’t want to see you hurt.”

He ignored her reference to what he thought of her. He thought more of her than she realized, but it wouldn’t help him maintain any emotional distance to admit it. “No one’s going to get hurt. Not on my watch. Grab whatever you’re going to need. Tonight we’re staying at my place.”

She hopped off the bed. “I can’t do that!”

He finally came inside the room. “Why not?”

“For the same reason I wouldn’t stay with Claire. If
you’re not worried about your own safety, what about Marley?”

“She’s not home. She’s with a friend.”

She reached out to grab his arm, but caught herself before making contact. “Please, don’t. Every time I think of you trying to stop them, I see…I see the U.S. marshal who…” She choked up so much she couldn’t finish.

He wanted to relent and hold her. But he couldn’t, not without rekindling the desire he’d experienced at the cabin. And doing that would only make the rest of the night too difficult to get through. Not to mention the rest of the week, the month, the year.