Trusting a Stranger

by Melinda Di Lorenzo

  Get in, get Mike Ferguson and get back to Keira. Then he’d figure out his next move.

  Minutes later, he bundled her up—thoroughly if not comfortably—and was leading her to the snowmobile. There he kissed her again, this time tenderly, then helped her straddle the vehicle.

  Dave looked unhappy, but Graham didn’t care. His eyes were stuck on Keira’s slim form, and they stayed there as the snowmobile roared to life and the two of them sped off into the thick woods.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Keira quickly gave up trying to keep a reasonable amount of physical space between herself and Officer David Stark. Her helmeted face was pressed between his shoulder blades, and her legs squeezed his hips. She rode that way not because she was any more comfortable with him than she had been since the first second she’d laid eyes on him, but because he navigated the mountain with reckless abandon.

  Trees whipped by in a blur. Snow kicked up and into Keira’s shirt, then melted there. It made the wind hit her that much harder and made it that much more necessary to crush herself into Dave’s back.

  She was holding on to him out of necessity. And she wasn’t happy about it.

  The only good thing about it was that it helped to keep her mind from everything else. She deliberately blocked out her thoughts and focused on the scenery instead. It was nothing more than a blur of white, and they rode for so long that Keira was sure they were going to run out of gas.

  Parts of her were frozen. Parts of her ached. And all of her wished she could go back in time to before her accident so she could just go back to being herself. No gunshots, no makeshift stitches, no crazy ache in her chest over a man she just met.

  But her concern for Calloway’s well-being overrode her efforts. And try as she might, Keira couldn’t shake the fact that the most pressing of her worries was that he might never be able to keep his promise and come to her.

  So maybe it wasn’t that the accident skewed her view. Maybe she’d known all along that Drew wasn’t right for her. Maybe she hadn’t really been leading a full life at all. It just took crashing into the Mountain Man’s life to reveal it.

  Somehow, she was sure she could pick any moment from the past few days and attach more meaning to it than she could to any other part of her life.

  So, no. She wouldn’t erase the accident. Because without it—without Drew and her stupid trip to the chalet to make her move—she wouldn’t have almost died and she wouldn’t have had the best kisses in the world with the most interesting man she’d ever met.

  And yes. She’d take those little glimpses of heart-pounding excitement over another twenty-four years of never realizing what she was missing.

  As she came to that conclusion, a final blast of snow flew from underneath the snowmobile, and she and Dave ground to a halt.

  The seed of doubt in Keira’s mind grew as she leaned away from him and took in her surroundings. The trees were well behind them, and there was nothing but a snow-covered hill in front of them.

  Keira swung her legs off the snowmobile uncertainly, and Dave did the same, but with far more self-assurance. Then he tipped his goggles to his head and helped her pull off the borrowed helmet.

  “Here’s the deal, Ms. Niles,” he said, his voice sounding extraloud now that the roar of the engine had cut off. “On the other side of that crest is the side road that leads into Mountain View Village. If we head into town, we might be walking straight into a sea of press. But what I want is to avoid them—and everyone else—if at all possible.”

  Keira stared at him. “You’re not taking me to the hotel?”

  “I want the same thing you do—to protect Graham. And to do that, I think we should steer clear of the resort town altogether. Get you somewhere safe and sound and far away from here,” Dave told her.

  “But Graham—”

  “Hasn’t thought this all the way through. Up here, I can’t keep you hidden. Not effectively. Too many people are looking for you. If I take you off the mountain completely, I at least stand a chance of keeping you out of the limelight.”

  Keira waited for him to add something else about Calloway, something hopeful. But he just handed her the helmet again.

  “We all set, then?” he asked.

  So Keira nodded. She didn’t see that she had much of a choice.

  * * *

  AS MUCH AS Graham wanted to toss aside everything and throw on his snowshoes and start moving, he knew better.

  Four years of waiting had taught him the value of patience, and as desperate as he was to get to Keira, his experience told him that he needed to be prepared. There was no way for him to avoid going back to the place where it all started. But if he had to do it, he could do it right.

  He started with his hair, hacking it to nearly respectable length, revealing far more gray than he’d had when he went underground. Then he moved on to his face, shearing it so that the formerly bristly beard was gone completely. When he was done, the skin underneath it was almost raw with the effort.

  He bathed head to toe, and though he kept himself fairly well-groomed anyway, he made an extra effort this time to scrub away every ounce of dirt. There was no sign of grime under his nails, no campfire scent lingering on his skin.

  Toss on a white coat, Graham thought humorlessly as he gave himself a final once-over, and I might be able to go straight back to the office.

  Right then, though, he laid out something far more practical. Snow-proof, waterproof pants. Lined, but not so thick that they would impede movement. On top, he’d wear a matching coat with good breathability and a removable interior. Both items were unused—Graham would have to rip the tags off before putting them on—bought long ago with the assumption that one day, he would have to abandon his home. Underneath those, he’d put on running gear, completely practical and also in new condition.

  He had sharp jeans, a still-in-the-plastic T-shirt, and just in case, a dress shirt and tie, ready to go into his bag.

  The cabin itself had been transformed, too. Graham boarded up the windows, careful to use well-worn pieces of wood and nails that had seen better days. He tore apart the bottom step in a way that made it appear to be natural rot, and punched a hole through the front part of the deck, too. He used a shovel to throw up several mounds of snow in front of the house, as well, and another snowstorm or two later, they’d look completely natural.

  When Graham glanced up at the sky, he thought he probably wouldn’t have to wait long for Mother Nature to help him out with that.

  Finally, he stood back to survey the house once more, looking for any other signs that would give away its most recent use. He was satisfied that there were none, and anyone who thought it was worth getting past the snow and the broken patio would be sorely disappointed when they got inside. Everything that could be burned, had been burned. From the mattress to the curtains to—regretfully—the food, it had all been incinerated.

  Only the most necessary items had been saved, and they fit neatly into Graham’s backpack beside his extra clothes.

  Be Prepared. Back to the Boy Scout analogy.

  * * *

  FROM THE MOMENT Graham drafted his to-do list, to the second he completed it all, took less than four hours.

  The sky was dark, the stars a speckled tableau above his head, and he was ready.

  Traveling at night wasn’t for everyone.

  But to quote Dave, this is me we’re talking about.

  Graham turned away from his home, not even bothering with a second look. He’d once walked away from a thirty-year-long life. This was nothing.

  * * *

  THE GRUELING HIKE brought Graham all the way to the edge of the resort town. He was covered in sweat, aching and no less determined.

  He kicked out a shallow hole in the snow, then stripped off his travel gear in favor of h
is jeans and T-shirt. He stuffed his cash and falsified ID into his jacket pockets, and filled the hole with his discarded items and marked the spot with a distinctly shaped rock as big as his head. Graham was sure he could locate it again, but there was nothing personal left in the pack, so if found, it wouldn’t arouse suspicion in the finder.

  It wasn’t ideal, but it would do. It had to.

  From his spot, the lights were too close and bright enough to make his head hurt.

  No time for self-pity, he growled silently and stepped back into the trees.

  Graham traipsed up the road, mentally recalling the name of the hotel Dave used each month.

  I’m not going to go in, he told himself.

  He just wanted to make sure they got there before he found a way down to the city.

  He paused at a large overblown map at the top of Main Street. He found the place—Rocky Side Hotel—quickly. As he scanned the location, he realized that even if he skirted the perimeter streets all the way in, he’d still have to pass through a very busy area in order to reach the hotel itself. He cursed the fact that Dave had chosen somewhere so public as his monthly stopping point. Mountain View had plenty of more out-of-the-way places to stay. Romantic bungalows. Three-star hotels. The only place more attention-drawing would’ve been the chalet itself.

  Graham forced himself to keep going.

  It was well past any reasonable hour to be out on foot anywhere else, but in Mountain View the second the sun went down, the skiers became partiers and they stayed out until it rose again. As a result, even keeping to the edge of town didn’t stop Graham from running into people.

  After so many years in isolation, it was overwhelming.

  So he was nervous. Far more on edge than he should have been.

  Maybe he would go in. Maybe he’d just check on Keira, then see if Dave had a reasonable line on a vehicle.

  And to breathe.

  He knew it was ridiculous to assume that someone would know him, but that didn’t make the feeling go away. When he finally had no choice but to head into the busy square in front of Dave’s hotel, and a grinning club rat caught and held his eye, he expected to see some flicker of recognition. Some frightened spark that said, Oh, that’s him. That’s the man accused of killing his wife.

  When he tried to cross a street a little too soon and a stranger grabbed his shoulder to stop him from falling in front of a party bus, he just about punched the Good Samaritan in the face. Even after Graham stumbled through an apology, the wary look didn’t disappear from the man’s eyes.

  Graham didn’t breathe easily until he reached the building with the large hand-painted sign that declared it as the correct hotel. His hand closed on the metal door and he pulled. It didn’t budge, and when Graham took a step back he saw why.

  The Rocky Side Hotel was closed for renovations.

  What the hell?

  Graham squinted at the sign giving the closure dates. Dave hadn’t been there at all. Not in the past thirty days anyway.

  So where had he taken Keira? Another hotel?

  No.

  A sinking feeling hit Graham straight in the gut.

  He must have taken her home.

  What for? To give her up, like he’d wanted to? For a misguided sense of right and wrong?

  Graham reached up to yank on his hair, but came away empty-handed. It was too short for the habit to be satisfying.

  His friend knew how much danger Keira would be in if Ferguson learned about her. To bring her that much closer, even if he thought it was because he was doing the right thing...

  Graham shook his head and took another few steps away from the closed hotel and smacked into an unsuspecting passerby. The guy stammered an apology, but Graham cut him off by grabbing his arm.

  “What’s the easiest way to get out of town?” he demanded harshly.

  The stranger’s eyes widened. “Now?”

  “Yes, now.”

  “It’s two in the morning.”

  “I’m aware.”

  The man scratched his head, looking drunkenly puzzled, then grinned brightly. “Truck stop!”

  “Truck stop?”

  “Yeah. The delivery guys come and go all night so they don’t mess with the tourist mojo during the day. Six blocks of back alley will get you there.”

  Graham released his arm. “Thanks.”

  “No problem.”

  The partier stumbled away, and Graham moved quickly.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Keira stared out the window of Dave’s car, blurry-eyed. The hours it took to drive from the mountain to Derby Reach had passed quickly, mostly because she’d spent them sleeping. Or pretending to be asleep so she wouldn’t have to make small talk with the man in the driver’s seat.

  Now they’d stopped.

  But they weren’t anywhere near her apartment. It only took Keira a single second of peering into the dim predawn to clue in that they were somewhere familiar, though.

  “This is my parents’ house,” she said, sounding as puzzled as she felt.

  “I know,” Dave replied.

  “Why are we here? How did you even know where it was?”

  “I looked up a few details about you. One of the perks of being a cop. And as much as I hate the idea, Ms. Niles, I need to leave you alone for a bit to take care of a few details. I figured it was safer to bring you here than it was to drop you at your own place. I hope you don’t mind.”

  Keira’s head buzzed with worry. And actually, she did mind. It felt like an intrusion of privacy. But she could hardly complain about the policeman doing his job. Assuming that’s what he was doing. And when had he had time to look up the details of her life? He’d barely left her alone for longer than a bathroom break.

  “My own apartment would’ve been fine,” she said a little stiffly.

  But Dave shook his head. “And take the chance that some well-meaning neighbor spots you and sees the news and reports it?”

  “Right,” Keira replied uncertainly.

  “Besides. Your parents’ house is empty, and this neighborhood is known for its privacy.”

  A sliver of worry crept up Keira’s spine. Had she mentioned her parents’ monthlong vacation? Or was that another detail he’d uncovered in his miniature investigation into her life?

  And if he can find out those things in a few hours, how come he couldn’t prove Calloway’s innocence in four full years?

  Dave put his hand on her arm, and she flinched.

  “If you’re worried about Graham finding you...don’t. He’s as resourceful as he is single-minded. And if things go wrong, having you here instead of at home will give me the extra time I need to get you out safely.”

  The sliver became a spike. “Wrong?”

  “I’m not trying to scare you, Ms. Niles. I want you to feel safe and secure. But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that in the past, Graham has lashed out on the people he thought wronged him. There was a time when I would’ve called him dangerous. It’s been years since he’s done anything truly violent, but it’s also been years since he had any reason to. He won’t give up until either he’s taken care of the threat, or until taking care of the threat becomes more dangerous than the threat itself. I don’t want you in the middle of that.”

  Keira opened her mouth, then closed it again. She wasn’t sure she agreed with Dave’s analysis. Calloway might very well be single-minded, but it was only out of necessity. Who wouldn’t want to prove their innocence in a case like this one? And as far as self-preservation was concerned...she was living proof that he was capable of caring more about others’ safety than he did about his own.

  She had a funny feeling that in spite of what Dave claimed to the contrary, he was trying to scare her. She just wasn’t sure why.

&nb
sp; “Can I trust you, Ms. Niles?” the policeman asked abruptly.

  “Trust me?” she replied.

  “To lie low until I’ve done what needs to be done to ensure that there’s no danger to you. Or to the people close to you.”

  His words had an ominous undertone to them, and Keira bit back an urge to point out that leaving her alone seemed counterproductive to keeping her safe. And to be honest, she was just plain eager to be rid of the man.

  “I can do that,” she agreed.

  Dave seemed satisfied. He opened the glove box and pulled out a business card, which he handed to her.

  “This is my direct number,” he said. “If you have any problems at all, call me first. Do not contact anyone else. Do not reach out. And most importantly, do not tell anyone where you are.”

  He squeezed her hand. She let him hold it just long enough to not seem unappreciative.

  “Thank you,” she murmured.

  “Another thing,” Dave said. “If you doubt what I’ve said, keep this in mind. Your car might’ve crashed, but the fire that consumed it was man-made. The cops have ruled it arson. And we both know there was only one man up there.”

  Keira almost laughed. But then she caught sight of the serious look on Dave’s face. Yes, he was still definitely trying to scare her.

  Except for the first time, she was also sure he was telling the truth.

  “Like I said, just keep in mind that he’s the type of man who will cover up evidence at someone else’s expense.”

  She gave him a level stare. “I’ll do that.”

  Then she pulled away, and as she did, Dave reached for his own seat belt. Keira realized he was probably planning on accompanying her up the driveway. It was the last thing she wanted.

  “It’s all right,” she said quickly. “I’m fine by myself.”

  “I’d feel better if you let me walk you to the door.”

  She shook her head and forced what she hoped looked like a genuine smile. “I’m lying low, remember? The last thing we want is my parents’ neighbors talking because a strange man is dropping me off. If you come up, they’ll have a fit.”