Shielding the Suspect

by C. J. Miller

  Even during the best part of their relationship, when she’d felt closer to Brady than any other person in the world, he’d held back. Though he was never much for telling her how he’d felt about her, his actions had told her that he’d wanted her in his life. She had been caught off-guard when he’d ended their relationship. She’d come to understand Brady by his actions.

  His actions now were decidedly unclear. Though he had no reason to, he was staying with her. Staying so close he’d kissed her as if it was the most natural thing in the world. In many ways, she’d sensed it coming before he’d pulled her close. She’d tried and failed to fight her body’s automatic response. She’d sunk into the kiss, giving herself over as if surrender was inevitable. Weak. It was weak that she’d reacted that way.

  If she let him inside, Brady would break her heart. In addition to his past behavior, he was struggling with his own demons.

  By the time her brain, and heart, had engaged, he had stopped the kiss. Ended it before she’d had a chance to process it. They hadn’t had—and wouldn’t have—a discussion about the kiss. It had happened. It might happen again; it might not.

  No, definitely not. She would be more vigilant. Kissing each other and confusing a complicated situation was a mistake. He didn’t want her in his life in any real way and she wasn’t getting caught in another one-sided relationship with Brady.

  Susan reached across to the driver’s side and turned the key in the ignition again to check the time. Instead of the clock, her eyes fixated on the two policemen entering the store.

  Panic seized her. Were they coming for Brady? Had Brady been recognized and detained in the store? She took a deep breath to calm her racing heart. What should she do?

  She could dash inside and look for him. But that might get them both captured. She needed to call Harris. He would know what to do.

  Her hand was on the door handle, ready to search for a pay phone, when Brady exited the store a few moments later, plastic bags in hand. He wasn’t running. His didn’t appear alarmed. He seemed confident and in control. He looked muscular and strong moving toward her.

  He got in the driver’s side and Susan let out a cry of emotion she hadn’t expected. “Why were the cops in the store?”

  “I don’t know, but we need to get out of here before anyone spots us,” he said.

  Her nerves tingled. “Are they looking for Haley’s car?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. I don’t want to wait around to find out.”

  “I think you need to adjust your definition of ‘fast.’ If you had been in that store one more minute with the cops, I was calling Harris for help.”

  Brady started the car. “Here I am, safe and sound. Most men would prefer a hero’s welcome. But I guess veiled hostility is acceptable.”

  Hostility? Is that what he heard in her voice? She didn’t mean to sound angry with him. She’d been worried by the police officers’ appearance. Susan owed Brady for what he’d done for her. She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “There’s your hero’s welcome. You are a hero and don’t let anyone tell you different.” She’d guess the person who told him most often he wasn’t a hero was himself.

  It was difficult to tell, but in the dark, it seemed like Brady blushed. Brady Truman blushing? Susan couldn’t believe it. Brady pulled out of the parking spot and turned onto the road, keeping his speed steady. Susan watched in the passenger-side mirror, expecting to see red-and-blue headlights pursuing them.

  “We’re okay for now, but we need to limit our stops. If I had to guess, Justin’s father is calling in more favors to make finding us the mayor and police department’s number one priority.”

  Susan closed her eyes. The weight of what Brady said settled over her. The police were looking for them. Someone was hunting her. She had the anger of a lieutenant general in the air force bearing down on her. She scrubbed her hands over her face.

  “I’m sorry, Susan. I know you never wanted any of this—Justin’s death, me in your life, the problems at your job....” He let his voice trail away.

  He had part of it right. Her life was falling apart and she couldn’t do anything to stop it. She hated that. But him? She had mixed emotions about Brady. For too long, she had harbored bitterness and anger. She’d wanted to forget about Brady and the happy memories they had shared. She’d wanted to forget how he’d made her feel when they’d been together: wonderful, loved and cherished. She’d wanted to cling to her anger and use it to sever her emotional ties to him.

  Now that Brady was in her life again, she was forced to confront her feelings. Her attraction to him lingered. Her unresolved emotions pinged at her, plucking at the anger and sadness she had tried to put to rest. But surviving this ordeal required her to let go of the past and their mistakes and trust Brady. He was her one ally. If only setting aside their past and concentrating on the present was as easy for her as it seemed to be for him.

  * * *

  They made the hour drive with the radio keeping them company. Slushy, snow-lined the roads made the inclined terrain slippery for Haley’s sedan. The car skidded several times and Susan had to close her eyes and breathe to stay calm. Haley’s car was equipped with studded tires and Brady was a good driver.

  The snow was falling harder, but the rising sun made navigating the narrow roads easier. Crosses and flowers were laid several places on the side of the road, locations where travelers had died taking the turns too fast or skidding into a tree.

  “We’ll be okay,” Brady said. “You can open your eyes.”

  Susan opened one eye and looked at him. Was that humor in his voice? “These roads are borderline treacherous. Maybe we should go somewhere else.”

  “I don’t know of any other safe place,” he said. “And we’ll make it.”

  “We had a good time the last time we visited Winter Park,” she said. She’d hoped the words would diffuse some of the awkwardness, but the moment she replayed the words, she remembered how they had spent most of their time together—alone and in each other’s arms.

  Brady’s shoulders tightened. “Yes, we did.” Each word spoken slowly as if he was being careful not to ignite a difficult conversation.

  Was he remembering the trip the way she did? The gentle easiness of new love, the excitement of learning about someone else, every new discovery fresh and exhilarating. New relationships were easier than old ones. No baggage. No resentment.

  “Do you think part of our problem was that we got too involved too quickly?” Susan asked. After what her mother had been through with her father, Susan had learned to be guarded and careful in relationships. But then she’d met Brady. Once she’d made up her mind, she’d handed her heart and trust over to him completely. She’d told herself Brady was different from other men. Different covered all manner of sins. In the end, he’d broken her heart. It hadn’t mattered that Brady had been—and was—a good man. When it came to love, no one was safe.

  “The timing was wrong, but not in the way you mean,” Brady said.

  Susan waited for him to elaborate. He didn’t. “If we had met now, would things have ended differently?” With his injury, Brady would choose a career that would be less adventuresome than his previous had been. His life would change. Would he grow resentful? Or would he take to his new job and enjoy it, closing the Special Forces chapter of his life and moving on to new and exciting opportunities?

  The car slid and Brady turned the wheel, catching the vehicle and maneuvering it into the center of the lane. He didn’t answer her question and Susan didn’t repeat herself. Brady was intentionally not answering.

  Fine. She was used to his silences. It was his favorite emotional response. She could read between the lines. If they’d starting dating now, he’d expect it to end the same: with a breakup.

  Brady swore. “Someone is tailgating us. What kind of idiot does that when the
weather and road conditions are like this?”

  Susan looked in the side-view mirror. The narrow road leading to Connor’s cabin was two lanes, one each way, and a dotted passing line between them. A black SUV was riding close to their bumper. A skier anxious to get to their vacation house? “If you slow down, maybe he’ll go around us.”

  The SUV behind them sped up and rammed their car. Brady struggled to keep their car on the road. The smaller sedan lurched and swerved.

  “How did these guys find us?”

  Susan’s breath caught in her throat and a heavy feeling settled over her stomach. “I don’t know. We ditched your phone. Does anyone else know about this cabin?”

  “Harris does,” Brady said and grit his teeth. “But he wouldn’t betray us.”

  Their engine revved and Brady climbed the road faster to get away from the SUV. The car’s wheels spun and slid, unable to find traction.

  “Turn around and see if you can get a look at the driver or passengers,” Brady said.

  Susan twisted in her seat. The driver wore a ski mask pulled over his face. She didn’t see anyone else in the car. “I don’t recognize him or the vehicle. I can’t see his face. And it’s just one person this time.” Another mercenary closing in on them?

  The SUV hit their car again and the sedan skidded across the road. Brady twisted the wheel and hit the brakes, trying to gain control of the car. Their car spun, moving into the other lane and facing down the hill. The black SUV struck them head on and their car bowled backward, slamming into the guardrail behind them. The sound of metal on metal filled the car, but their car stopped moving.

  “Thank God,” Susan said, her heart beating so fast she felt sick.

  The SUV wasn’t finished. It reversed and hit the front of the car again with a sickening crunch and twisting of metal. The airbags deployed. Their car seesawed against the guardrail.

  “We have to get out of the car,” Brady said. The car rocked on the edge of the cliff.

  Susan looked around. She could get her door open, but then what? The incline was steep and slippery. Could she reach the road? Was the SUV’s driver waiting for them? Would another car drive past and scare him off? She didn’t have time to ask questions. There was a groan of metal, a snapping sound and then their car slid backward down the hill.

  Susan braced her feet on the floor, trying to keep her body from slamming around the car. Her seat belt and the airbags pinned her in her seat. Brady’s arm came across her, trying to stabilize her.

  Their car pounded into something with the crunching of metal and breaking of glass and stopped moving.

  “Susan, are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” she said, trying to feel for the car door handle on her right. They had to get out of the car before it went into another free fall. They were lucky to be alive and conscious.

  She released her seat belt and pushed at the air bag, trying to see around it.

  After struggling for a few moments, Brady pulled open her door and dragged her out of the car. They were standing thirty yards down the hill away from the main road, their car caught on two large trees. Was the driver of the SUV checking if they had survived? Could he see down the slope?

  Brady opened the backseat and pulled out bags, throwing them over his shoulder. Susan slipped in the snow and Brady grabbed her wrist to keep her upright. After regaining her balance, Susan reached for the stash pack and the plastic bags from the twenty-four-hour drugstore.

  “Are you hurt?” Brady asked.

  She didn’t feel hurt. Shaken up, not injured. “I’m okay. I think. What about you?”

  “I’m fine. He’ll be looking for us. We need to make tracks,” Brady said.

  They hitched their supplies high on their shoulders and started moving through the snow, down the steep terrain, their feet sliding beneath them. Had Brady hurt his knee in the crash? Would he tell her if he had?

  “Are you sure you’re not hurt?” she asked.

  “I can walk and that’s what’s important,” Brady said.

  Then he was injured and hurting. She didn’t see any wounds. Didn’t mean his neck or back or legs weren’t hurt. Had he hit his head?

  “What was that? Or maybe the better question is who was that?” Susan asked.

  “My best guess is another operative making a determined attempt to kill you.”

  He wasn’t mincing words. “How did he know where we were?”

  “I don’t know yet how they’re following us,” Brady said.

  The sound of a gunshot sounded. The driver of the SUV was firing at them.

  “Move faster,” Brady said.

  “Where will we go?” Susan asked. Around them were trees and snow. No signs of cabins or other roads.

  “We’ll get away from the wreck and look for shelter and help. Connor’s cabin isn’t the only one out here.” Brady had a prepaid phone in his hand. “No signal. We’ll preserve battery life for now.” He turned the phone off and put it in his jacket pocket.

  Brady changed directions a few times, zigzagging through the trees. The snow was falling, some catching on tree branches, some covering their tracks as they walked. In a few hours, their path wouldn’t be as easy to follow. Was the driver of the SUV scaling the cliff after them or calling for reinforcements?

  They were two people, lost in the woods, in the snow, without directions or GPS devices. What chance did they stand against a group of highly trained Special Forces ops stalking them? Hysteria escalated her heart. “Brady, how will we survive this? We don’t know where we are or what we’re doing.”

  Brady stopped and faced her, taking her by the upper arms. “Susan. Look at me.”

  Susan met his gaze.

  “They won’t find us. You have to trust me. If you lose it, then they gain the advantage. Ninety percent of my success with the Special Forces was a mental game.”

  Susan nodded. She had to have faith that Brady would get them out of this. “I’m sorry. I’ll be calm. Just tell me what to do.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

  “We need to move in one direction and look for help or shelter.”

  They hiked through the trees and Susan didn’t see anyone or any place to go for help. Exhaustion was beginning to catch up to her. Despite the cold, she was hot in her jacket, the effort of lifting her knees high to progress through the snowdrifts wearing her down. Cold water from melted snow soaked through her jeans.

  They kept walking, staying close together. How long had they been walking? How far had they traveled? “How close are we to the road or to other cabins?” Susan asked.

  “I don’t know. I don’t know this area.”

  Fear took hold of her thoughts again. “How do we know we’re not walking in circles? Everything out here is starting to look the same.”

  “If we follow the downward slope of the hill, we won’t walk in circles. We’ll find help.”

  Susan kept her feet moving, fatigue fogging her head and hunger cramping her stomach. A wave of dizziness hit her. “Brady, when can we stop and take a break? My feet are soaking wet and I need to rest.”

  Brady turned. “Next spot I find, we’ll stop. I want to be sure we weren’t followed. Then I’ll start a fire. We need to stay dry.”

  They continued onward. She held on to his bag for guidance, her eyes beginning to close.

  Brady finally stopped near a rock formation. He dropped the bags he was carrying to the ground. He opened one of them and rifled inside. “Take off your shoes and socks and wrap your feet with this.” He handed her a flannel shirt. “I need to get supplies. Wait underneath this overhang. It will block some of the snow and wind.”

  “Wait here? What if someone comes?” She didn’t stand a chance against an ex-Special Forces operative.

  Brady pulled the gun from his j
acket. “Take this.”

  “I don’t know why you seem to think I’m proficient with a gun. I’ve never shot a gun. I don’t know what I’m doing.” She heard the panic in her voice and felt her control slipping. “I don’t know what I’m doing with any of this.”

  Brady sat next to her. “You need to trust me. I’ve survived in worse than this. Picture being actively shot at, wounded and without any supplies. This is easy. Like a practice drill with help nearby. You can do this. You’ve faced everything that has come our way and survived. We’ll survive this.”

  He sounded confident and it eased her fears. He had training in the wilderness. She had none. “I hate that I can’t be more help.”

  “We’re both doing everything we can. We’ll get dry, get something to eat and then make plans, okay?”

  He gently touched the side of her face, stroking her cheek with his thumb. Heat diffused across her face.

  “Okay,” she said, his faith in her bolstering her courage.

  He dug through their bags and handed her a box of graham crackers. She tore into it.

  “No one will find us and I’ll be gone for ten minutes,” Brady said, taking one of the crackers.

  He also took the gun with him. She didn’t want it. She was more likely to shoot herself than someone else. Her feet felt better out of her wet shoes and socks. As food settled into her stomach, Susan’s mind cleared. She looked around. Were there wolves or coyotes out in the forest? Would they approach a human?

  A crackling of branches penetrated the silence. Fear closed over her. Susan looked around. Was the noise a tree limb giving out under the weight of the snow or someone approaching? Her breath puffed into the cold air and Susan pressed tighter against the rock formation. She wished for better cover, for ground brush or clothes that blended into the stark white and bare brown around her.

  After several minutes of scarcely moving for fear of making a sound, Susan stifled fear-fuelled thoughts. No one had found her and getting hysterical wasn’t helpful. Instead, she refocused. She needed to do something to help. Susan took out the notebook and pencil Brady had bought. If she could draw, she might feel better and work free the memories that had buried themselves in her mind. She started drawing the living room on Justin’s boat, pre-fire, trying to let her subconscious fill in the details she was missing. What had it looked like before Justin had died? Could she remember the events of the night?