Shooter (Burnout) (43 page)

Mrs. Davis nodded and the three of them headed to the upper floors.

When they got to the correct floor, Mrs. Davis surged ahead, distracting the nurses at the station at the other end of the hall while Hayley and Chris slipped into her father’s room. Visiting hours were technically over, but apparently Mrs. Davis had made quite a few connections for herself during her husband’s stay and it was clear she hadn’t left his side through his ordeal.

He was sleeping and it was all Hayley could do not to rush forward toward him. He looked so frail in the bed. Much different than the memory she kept in her mind. She hadn’t thought to take any photos with her when she left. She hadn’t let herself think about how long she might be in exile. She took hold of his hand and he stirred. She wanted to drop it so as to let him rest but she couldn’t force herself to let go.

“Sarah?” he whispered when his eyes fluttered open.

“Oh, daddy,” she breathed and swept in for a hug.

The older man patted her and sighed. “I told her not to tell you. I told her not to bother you with it. I’m fine,” he declared. “I’m getting released soon.”

“Oh, daddy,” she repeated. “I still had to know! I couldn’t handle not knowing what’s happening.”

“Well, it’s nothing to worry about.” His gaze wandered from her and fixed on Chris, assessing him. “You’re the mechanic,” he stated.

“Yes, Sir,” Chris acknowledged.

Hayley righted herself. “Daddy this is Chris. He brought me. He’s my....” she trailed off though.

“Your what?” her father asked.

“My...well boyfriend, I guess, but it’s not the right word. He’s so much more than that.”

“My name is Chris, Sir,” Chris offered. Just then the door opened and Mrs. Davis slipped in. “Well, I guess Hayley, Sarah’s, told you about me,” he said, addressing both of them. “She lives with me. We’re....together,” he announced, as though he couldn’t think of the right word for himself, either.

“Thank you,” Mrs. Davis practically gushed. “Thank you so much for taking care of her.” Her weepy gaze turned to her daughter. “Oh, Sarah.”

“Mom-” she began to admonish.

“No. We- so much is different. Daddy and I are so sorry. About everything.”

“It’s not your fault,” Hayley insisted.

Mrs. Davis just shook her head. “We didn’t think- didn’t want to believe. We just wanted it to be
over
. But you kept telling us it wasn’t. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry we couldn’t accept it. And then the letter came and you left. And that awful reporter showed up with all these files. And she kept talking about a multiple murderer and all I could think was that I didn’t believe you when you said he’d still try and hurt you. We could have left with you, sweetie. We could have sold the house. We could have-”

“No. Mom, no. Leave dad’s job? And grandma? Come on. That wouldn’t have worked.”

“Sarah, we could have-”

“No,” Hayley insisted. “Just...no. I needed to be on my own anyway. I-” She sighed. “It’s not your fault, honestly, but you were so adamant that I just move on and I couldn’t. So I had to go. Not just for you but for me, too.”

Mrs. Davis gripped her only daughter in a tight hug and cried again. “I’m so sorry for all he took from us. From you.”

The younger woman only returned the hug. “He didn’t take it all, Mom,” she whispered. “I swear to you. He didn’t get it all.”

************************

Hayley bid her parents goodnight with a promise to return the next night. She and Chris slipped out the hall again as Mrs. Davis once again distracted the night nurse. They took the stairs and then let themselves out of the side door. Chris kept an eye on their surroundings, searching for anything that might pose a threat to them. Satisfied there was nothing, he guided Hayley to the SUV and got into the driver’s side.

As he started the engine, Hayley leaned back against the seat and let out a long sigh. “I’m tired,” she declared.

“Me, too,” Chris agreed.

“But I can’t sleep,” she informed as he pulled out of the garage, checking the rearview for a tail.

“Me, neither,” he admitted.

Hayley pointed to the right at the end of the street. “Turn here,” she told him. Which was the opposite direction of the hotel. He swung right and pressed the gas. “Take the exit to the highway,” she said and Chris waited until the last minute to edge over to the on-ramp.

“What now?” he asked as he merged with the light traffic onto the Interstate.

“East,” she proclaimed. “Head east.”

“How far?”

“Til we run out of road.”

They arrived just before dawn and parked in the last public lot. Chris swiped his credit card at the meter and Hayley started up the boardwalk. He could just make out the dark shapes of dunes and a gentle breeze shook the reeds on either side of them. Hayley took off her canvas shoes and tossed them on the sand. She waded into the still-warm water, the waves were at her calves, but only barely splashing her shorts.

Chris could only watch her, with the .38 weighing down his ankle. She stood a few minutes in the water running her fingertips through the waves occasionally. When it was time, she turned and walked back to him, her toes making temporary patterns in the wet sand. He held her as they watched the sunrise over the Atlantic.

“Can we come back?” she asked over the sound of the gulls flocking to the empty beach.

“You mean tomorrow? Yes.”

She shook her head, which was nestled underneath his chin. “No. I mean later. In the future. Can there be a next time?”

Chris’ heart surged along with the waves as he realized what she was saying. She loved them. She missed them. But she was coming home with him.

“Yes,” he promised her. “We’ll come back.”

The next night, they slipped into the hospital again and Chris sat in the chair in the corner while Hayley told them as much as she could about her life in South Dakota, without ever mentioning the words South Dakota. Her father, if he survived his heart attack he caveated to the glares of the two women, had just gotten a promotion at work and her mother was thinking seriously about selling the house in a few years and moving to the beach. Chris was struck by how much of the conversation was blissfully
normal
.

Hayley was reluctant to go. This was their last night and they were leaving in the morning, Chris having said that staying any longer was too dangerous. If they’d been spotted, by anyone, either yesterday or today, they had to leave before anyone could do anything about it, that included nosy reporters. Hayley fiercely held each of her parents in a hug and promised to call them when they were safely away.

Chris was on high alert as they left the hospital. Unbeknownst to Hayley, he’d stopped at the rear of the SUV and taken the .38 out of his ankle holster and put it in his jacket pocket. He had no idea if the hospital even had metal detectors, since, so far, they had never used the front doors. He ushered her into the vehicle and skirted around to the driver’s seat.

After pulling out of the garage, Hayley again indicated a right turn and Chris obliged. They got on the highway once more, but she surprised him by directing him to get off four exits later. He followed her directions, coming to a full stop on a dimly lit road. “Hayley,” he said, his voice full of warning.

“There’s no way around it,” she replied.

Chris sighed, noting the resolve in her voice. He once more bade her to stay in the vehicle as he came around. He helped her out, short as she was, and walked alongside her, keeping her close. Though it was dark, she made her way from memory through the dewy grass. Chris scanned the area, and not liking it at all but deeming it as clear as one man could possibly asses it, he nodded. She moved just a few feet away from him and knelt down, pulling her sundress up over her knees.

“Hey,” she said in a soft, shaky voice. Chris didn’t know if she was being purposefully quiet or she was just emotional. He hated like hell to have to eavesdrop on this but no way would he get far enough away from her that he couldn’t hear what she was saying. Because that meant being too far away to protect her.

“It’s been a long time,” she said. “I’m not- I’m not sure if you ever expected to hear my voice again.”

Chris turned a little, scanning the shadows for anything moving among the gravestones .

She dug a hand into the pocket of her jacket and pulled out something small. “I got you something,” she said, putting the object on the headstone. “It’s from the beach. I know you loved it there.

She drew in a long, shaky breath. “I’m so sorry, Jake. You can’t imagine how sorry.” She wiped the grass cuttings of the lip of the stone and brushed her hand over the flowers in the stone pot nearby. She cleared her throat. “I have things to tell you. I- I met someone. And... well... obviously he’s not
you
.” She swiped quickly at her cheeks.

“And he’s the one, Jake. You don’t know how sorry I am to tell you that. That you weren’t the one. Even when we were dating, I knew you weren’t the one. And then you died. I guess I don’t need anyone to tell me what kind of person that makes me. That you weren’t the one.

“But I care about you,” she insisted. “I did then and I still do. I took this,” she said, pulling another object out of her pocket. “They’re matching seashells. Yours and mine.” She fingered what must have been a small, white seashell on the stone. “I’ll keep it forever. Just so you know. I know your mama and your brothers miss you terribly. And I miss you, too. So you keep that one. And I’ll keep this one. That way you’ll know that between all of us, someone, somewhere is always thinking about you and missing you.”

Hayley reached out and took the entire bouquet of flowers from the little stone pot. She stood up and brushed off her knees with her free hand. Chris led her back to the SUV and stowed her safely inside. She said nothing except to direct him down winding streets in sleeping neighborhoods. He wound his way down southern suburbia until directed to stop at a yellow house with a black mailbox out front. Before he could stop her, Hayley got out, left the passenger door open and sprinted to the house. She dropped the entire bouquet minus one flower onto the doorstep and ran back to the SUV. She got in and closed the door.

“That’s dangerous, baby,” Chris said, hating that he even had to say it.

“She lost her son, Chris. In the most horrific way possible. She deserves to know other people still care about that.”

Chris couldn’t argue with that and silently pulled away from the curb.

Chapter 33

Back in Rapid City, life went back to its usual rhythm. Chris had checked for tails the entire way back across the country. Spotting none, he assured himself that they were out of harm’s way. He wasn’t sure exactly when he’d fulfill his promise to Slick about seeing her family again, but he knew he would. He left her sleeping peacefully, as he did every morning, and headed off to the garage. He only got about two hours’ work in before he was interrupted.

Preacher Prior rolled into the lot on his DynaGlide. He parked right in front of the main bay doors, smug bastard, and killed the engine. Chris could practically hear Easy groan. “Just finish up on this transmission,” Chris ordered. “It’s due out tomorrow.” He wiped his hands on a rag and tucked it back into his back pocket. He sauntered out to meet the President of the Badlands Buzzards. It was not lost on him that while Hawk and Tex pretended to be engrossed in their work, Hawk moved closer to the doors looking for a “tool” and Tex picked up an order form hanging on the wall and glanced at it.