Torn over where she should go, what she should do, the only thing she knew for certain was that she had to get away. Right. Now.
She made a mad dash for the back door even as he snagged the purse that hung over her shoulder and yanked.
She released her purse and he fell backward away from her, giving her the chance to push through the back door. She bounded down the steps and landed in the yard.
Freedom.
She raced around the side of the house. If she could just get to her car before he stopped her... But as she reached the driveway, she saw that was no longer an option. His black sedan blocked her car’s exit from the garage. She ran around to the driver’s side of his car, wondering if she could hide in there, and unfortunately found the door locked.
That was okay. She had her cell in her jacket pocket. She could call for help. Running down the street, she found a space between two houses and called 9-1-1. Behind her, she heard tires squeal out of her driveway.
He was still after her. Still determined to find and kill her.
She’d have to keep moving. She continued jogging down the street as she told the 9-1-1 operator that someone was trying to kill her. No, she couldn’t stay in one place and wait for the police. She had to lose him first. Dispatch said that the nearest officer was on his way.
That was great, but again, she couldn’t stay in one place long enough to wait for them. Still, she would look for a police cruiser even as she tried to hide from her pursuer. She’d described the sedan and given the license plate number so that maybe the police could stop the man after her.
She cut through neighborhoods.
The marina...
Her pursuer was in a car. He wouldn’t catch her in a boat. She jogged toward the marina as the air grew colder. Her nose had started running, too. All she needed now was for the sky to open up and let loose.
Except... Was it sleeting?
Great.
Whatever. Of course she would be running for her life as the weather decided to take a turn for the nasty.
All she had to do was to get across the lake, hopefully before dark so she’d have a chance to try to find some shelter.
She’d already lost him for now, but she wouldn’t take any chances. She wanted to get completely out of his reach forever. The summer crowd had already removed their boats from the marina, but the fishing crowd loved the cooler temperatures for brown and rainbow trout.
Chasey untied then hopped into a small V-shaped fishing boat and started the motor. She’d find a way to return it, but right now, she needed to survive. She steered the boat out onto the lake. A couple of other boats were closer to shore, but looked like they were heading back in. Hardly surprising, given the approaching nightfall along with inclement weather.
Could her pursuer have picked a better time?
Chasey steered the boat straight across the small lake. She should get across in a few minutes, and then what, she wasn’t sure, but somehow, she would make sure that he wouldn’t find her.
The sound of a motor starting up echoed across the lake. She glanced behind her. Another boat angled out of the marina and was headed her direction.
What?
Oh no...
Heart pounding, she fished out her cell phone and tried the most important call she could make. The call of her life. She let the man who could save her know what was happening. When she finished the call, Chasey glanced at her cell and realized the battery was dead. Had any part of her call to him gone through or was she truly on her own?
Just get across the lake.
Find somewhere safe where you can wait.
Yet, even as she tried to concentrate on steering the boat, she couldn’t help asking how this could have happened.
How could someone have found Kelly Cabot in her new life?
TWO
Ben pulled right up to the curb in front of the house that now belonged to Chasey Cook—formerly known as Kelly Cabot. He hopped out of the vehicle and didn’t bother closing the car door as he ran up to the front entrance. He’d brought a contingency of deputy marshals with him, and they surrounded the house. WITSEC inspectors worked alone for the most part and, usually even within the field offices, their function was known only to a few to keep their witnesses’ identities safe, even from law enforcement, who might be pressured or coerced. Ben wasn’t used to ordering other marshals around. But these were extraordinary circumstances.
He pounded on the door. “Chasey! Miss Cook, it’s Deputy Marshal Ben Bradley.”
Silas Tate opened the door from the inside and let him in, surprising Ben.
“She’s not here,” Silas said. “The back door was open, so I entered the premises.”
An opened back door was a bad sign. Ben stepped inside and the sight that met him twisted his insides into multiple knots. All of it...was a bad sign. He’d seen a similar scene at Sheila’s home—just as much mess, just as much chaos indicating a struggle. His only comfort was that, so far, he didn’t see bloodstained rugs or crimson spills on the wood floors. For that, he should be relieved. But Chasey had definitely been in a fight.
Heart pounding in his throat, he pressed his palms to his eyes. “We have to find her before it’s too late.” They all knew this, but Ben needed to express his frustration. He released the anger through the bite in his tone.
Ben glanced to the door at the exact moment a local police officer stepped through.
He aimed his gun at Ben and Silas, who stood behind him. “Police. Don’t move.”
“Deputy US Marshal Ben Bradley and Deputy US Marshal Silas Tate at your service, Officer. I’m going to reach for my credentials.”
The officer nodded.
Ben slowly reached for his badge wallet inside his jacket pocket and pulled it out, holding his credentials so they were displayed. The officer approached and then put his weapon away. Ben noted the officer’s badge number.
“I’m Officer Richard Pelman. Dispatch received an emergency call,” he said. “Chasey Cook lives at this address. She said that she was being pursued and was in danger.”
That news should come as no surprise, but hearing the words out loud from the officer was like a stranglehold around Ben’s throat. He struggled to get enough air to speak.
Then finally he asked, “Have you found her?” Ben held on to hope.
“No. I’ve driven around the neighborhood but didn’t see her. I didn’t see the black sedan she mentioned, either. Instead I found you guys in her house.”
“She’s in trouble. We’re here to help her,” Ben said. “And we also need your help.”
Officer Pelman studied Ben. “I’ll do what I can. What would you like me to do? I could secure the crime scene here.”
“In due time. Right now, we need to find Chasey. Please continue to patrol the neighborhood and look for her—or for anything out of the ordinary that might clue us in to where she’s gone. We need to get to her before it’s too late. Her life is in imminent danger.”
Officer Pelman’s expression was somber as he nodded and exited the house. Ben squeezed his fists, anxiety crawling over him. He thought to try her again on his cell phone, but instead he found a call from her. His cell had been on vibrate, but he hadn’t felt it!
Good girl, Chasey. She should have called him long before now, but maybe she hadn’t had a chance while someone was in serious pursuit and she was on the run. Ben listened to her garbled and broken-up message, her words breathless and panicked.
“Ben, it’s me, Chasey... Um, Kelly... I think he found me—” a sob cracked, and she gasped “—I don’t know if you’ll get this message in time, but I need your help. I don’t know...I don’t know if I can outrun him. I’m at the marina—”
The call went dead.
His heart twisted with his already tangled-up gut.
“The lake. The marina. She�
�s at the marina!” he shouted.
He raced to his vehicle while shouting instructions for the other marshals to help. Two deputies stayed behind at the house to protect her in case she returned and to watch for anyone who might come looking for her. Two others would walk the neighborhood on foot, looking for her. Silas hopped into the vehicle with him.
Lord, what is going on?
Susan. Sheila. And now Chasey.
If only he had acted sooner... But this attack on WITSEC witnesses, in particular those for whom Ben had secured new identities, had unfolded fast and Ben had simply been blindsided. Who was behind the brutality and why?
Questions bombarded him even as he focused on the only thing that was truly important in this one moment in time: saving Chasey. The woman Ben had fallen for when he’d been assigned to protect her for a few months before she’d testified at her uncle’s trial.
Ben steered from the curb and resisted the urge to speed through the neighborhood. He wouldn’t risk hurting innocent bystanders getting home from work or stopping to get their mail. Still, it felt surreal to see them and realize that life went on around him as though nothing nefarious was at play.
When he exited the neighborhood onto a two-lane road, his tires squealed as Ben floored it and headed toward the lake and the marina. At the water’s edge, he drove past a few buildings. The pier was up ahead. He didn’t bother to park the car but stopped in the middle of the asphalt parking lot. Hopping out of his vehicle, he jogged over to the few boats moored along the peer. The sky looked gray and heavy with precipitation that threatened to make the dark of night move in even sooner.
“Chasey!” he shouted.
Ben and Silas removed their weapons from their holsters. If she had an active pursuer, they might come across the man—or worse, find the man engaged in attacking Chasey. He could only hope she’d found a good place to hide and the man had not found her here yet.
God help me find her first and keep her safe!
He and Silas searched around the marina buildings, then opened up the warehouse to search inside. No one was there. Maybe they closed up shop early on Friday.
“Chasey! It’s Ben. You can come out now. You’re safe. Where are you?” His words echoed through the warehouse that was filled with boating supplies and parts but was otherwise empty—at least empty of life.
Nothing.
Come on, Chasey, where could you be? Ben called her phone and texted her again, but got no response. Was he too late? Please let him not be too late.
Where could she have gone? Maybe... Maybe she’d actually taken a boat out on the water. He left the buildings and jogged back over to the pier. A couple of men coming in from a cold day on the lake climbed out of their small fishing boats and onto the pier.
He looked out over the lake and spotted two boats still out there, heading away from the marina. He couldn’t see them well enough to be able to tell who was manning the small boats. Except... Wait... It looked as though one boat was giving chase to the other one and appeared to be gaining on it.
Oh no.
That could very well be Chasey fleeing her pursuer.
Ben rushed up to one of the men who was tying up his boat. “Deputy US Marshal Ben Bradley. I need your boat. Someone’s in danger out there.” He pointed. “I need to help her before that man gets to her. Please, can I use your boat?”
The man nodded. “I’ll go with you.”
“Sir, this could be dangerous. A life is on the line. Wait here. I’ll return your boat, one way or another.”
The man lifted his hands and backed off. “I don’t want any trouble. Do your job and save her. But you should know the tank is close to empty. It’ll get you maybe halfway across the lake and that’s it.”
The man reversed his knot to untie the boat.
“Thank you.” Halfway across—or at least to Chasey—was all he needed. Ben hopped in and started the engine.
Silas rushed forward then stopped short of climbing into the boat with him. “Where are you going?”
“I’m going after those boats out there. Stay at the marina and remain vigilant. I can’t be sure that that’s her out there, so she might still be close by.”
He steered from the pier then sped toward the boat chasing after Chasey—if that was Chasey. He prayed it wasn’t, prayed that his instincts had been wrong—but he didn’t think they were.
At least his boat seemed faster than the two on the lake.
Except after he accelerated, pushing the boat as fast at it would go, he realized it might not be fast enough.
* * *
The little fishing boat steadily traveled over the water. The sleet had turned to freezing rain and Chasey was even more grateful she’d grabbed a warmer jacket before she’d fled into the night, and into an early winter storm. She wouldn’t last long out here without protection—and she might not last as it was, with this attacker on her trail.
God, I really can’t believe this is happening. What did I do wrong?
She’d avoided social media and tried to dodge having her picture taken by her new friends if there was any chance it could end up online. She had even avoided having her photograph included on the staff and faculty web page of the college where she worked. She’d secretly shared with her boss, the dean, that she had a stalker and preferred to remain only a name without the picture. He’d readily agreed, letting her use just a cute graphic of books along with her name. But maybe even that had been too much. Maybe someone had gotten curious and looked deeply into her past. What could have tipped them off, though? She’d thought her new identity would hold up to scrutiny.
Or so Ben had told her.
Ben... Would he come for her?
She didn’t see how he could make it in time because he could be anywhere. Escaping was all on her. She zeroed in on directing the boat across the small lake while feeling horribly aware every second that her pursuer was closing in.
She’d made a mistake in choosing to escape across the lake, after all, but she couldn’t turn back now. One step at a time. One decision at a time. She had made this decision and had to see it through. In the meantime, she could plan how she’d hide once she reached the shore.
Chasey could just make out a small pier across the way. She focused on that and committed it to memory in case darkness fell before she reached it. She didn’t want to get disoriented or she would be completely blind on the lake in these gray skies when night fell.
Lord, please let me get away. Please let me escape...again.
To think it had only been a year—a year—since the trial and she had already been located. She thought back to her uncle’s words about retribution. Promising that, even from a prison cell, he would make her pay.
Well, he had to find her first.
Chasey had been the one to approach the authorities with information regarding her uncle after she’d discovered that he was a controlling member of an international terrorist organization. Prior to her report, no one had known about his insidious dealings because Chasey’s uncle had spent a lifetime covering his tracks. He had a whole system of shell companies and secret paper trails through his textiles business that he used as a cover for his factories in several foreign countries. His reach spanned the globe. And he had kept Chasey under his thumb, under his watchful, intimidating eyes, as he’d forced her to work as his personal assistant.
Fear for her safety alone would not have been enough to keep her in line. He had other leverage.
Brighton. Her autistic brother.
When their mother had died while they were still children—Brighton only six and Chasey ten—they had become Uncle Theo’s wards, and he’d taken good care of them both. There was no denying that he’d gotten Brighton the best care money could buy, or that Brighton had thrived.
Deciding to step forward as a witness—the only witness—who had seen first-hand
her uncle’s brutal and illegal activities, including murdering a man—had been a difficult decision. She’d feared for her life, and she’d feared for Brighton’s life as well as his care.
Getting Brighton the best attention—equal to what her uncle could afford—had been one of her stipulations in coming forward as a witness. She and Brighton had been quickly whisked away to a safe house before charges had been filed.
To ensure he was safe and protected, she had insisted Brighton be put in a facility and disconnected from her. Placing the two of them together would make it too easy for them to be discovered if someone was searching. And Chasey had never doubted her uncle would search for her and make her pay for betraying him. She knew he’d always feared that she’d turn against him. It was why he’d kept her close. Keep your friends close, but keep your enemies closer, she’d often heard him say in meetings with his...um, “friends.” He’d thought that with Brighton as leverage, he had her completely under this thumb.
But she’d found a way to escape.
And yet here she was on the run again.
She had no doubt that whoever was after her now was someone sent by her imprisoned uncle. And that meant he would not give up until he found her.
Chasey needed Ben’s help again. But was there any chance he would show up in time?
She glanced over her shoulder to see the other boater closing in. Fear lodged in her chest and Chasey tried to catch her breath, but she couldn’t seem to get enough oxygen.
Come on, come on, come on.
The boat’s motor chugged, stuttered and then stopped completely.
Oh no, no, no. She tried to start the motor again to no avail. Out of gas? She found a lone paddle and considered paddling forward as fast as she could, but she knew she didn’t have enough of a lead to reach the shore before he caught up to her. In the end, that wouldn’t help her escape and would only be a waste of her energy.
And Chasey would need every bit of it to fight off her pursuer. Oh yeah, she would put up a fight. She could only hope that would be enough for her to survive until help came. If help came.
High Stakes Escape Page 2
