“You remember. You came to our house that day and heard her call me stupid.”
“She did that way too often.”
“No shit. But I am talking about the day you told her off but good. And you said I was one of the smartest people you knew.”
“You are.”
“Yeah, right,” Patsy scorched her with a look. “Because when I gave you every opportunity to get your horrible experience off your chest by talking to me about it, you were sooo open to taking advantage of my intellect.”
“Patsy, I haven’t talked to anyone about it.” Or no more than she could help, anyway.
“Don’t give me that. I bet you talked to your oh-so-beloved Kurstin about it.”
“No. I have not.” She resisted the urge to cross her fingers as she lied without a qualm. “Nor to Jon-Michael either.”
Patsy glared at her. “Which does not change the fact you should have talked to me.” Then she barked out a laugh.
The sound was so dark, so chilling…and an exact match to the cold, cold eyes Hayley couldn’t believe belonged to the Patsy she knew. She shuddered and would have sworn under oath she felt her gut take the Polar Plunge. Glancing covertly around the clearing, she looked for the best route—any route—out of here. Patsy had lowered the bow and, oh, crap, another arrow she must have nocked into the bowstring while Hayley was busy falling on her ass. But she didn’t need her psychology degree to see the other woman was not in her right mind.
And far beyond what her knowledge of the field could reach. Hayley feared it would take years on a psychiatrist’s couch to get Patsy back on track. And she did not have years.
Surreptitiously, with the old adage about not bringing a knife to a gunfight singing through her head, she wrapped her hand around the rock she’d dropped in her lap. And fervently hoped something was better than nothing.
She climbed to her feet to be ready to take advantage of the tiniest opportunity to get away from Psycho Patsy.
“You know what?” the other woman said. “I did do something for you. I am still a good friend.” Her look made it clear Hayley didn’t deserve such dedicated friendship. “Even after you blew me off time after time, even after you constantly shoved me aside so you could go do stuff with your precious Kurstin, I still did you a giant favor.” She waved a hand in the direction of the fallen log Hayley had been sitting on. “I told you this before but I don’t think you really got it. I took care of the Ty problem.”
No, no, no, no, NO! For the first time in her life, Hayley realized a person’s blood truly could run cold. God knew hers had turned to ice. Because now the churned up forest floor on the other side of the log made sense. It was a grave.
Except, wait. If Ty had been in the ditch-like hole, she was pretty sure he was no longer. She shot it a sideways glance.
“No body.” Dammit, she could not believe she’d said that out loud!
“Well, of course there is not, stupid.” The satisfaction on Patsy’s face at calling someone else the hated word told Hayley she was already dead to the crazed woman. “I buried him and made sure the ground didn’t look as if it had been disturbed.”
“Oh, the ground has definitely been disturbed,” Hayley goaded. After years of working with a bow, Patsy’s upper body strength beat hers all to hell, so no way would she take the other woman in a physical fight. Her only hope was to shake Patsy up enough to create an opportunity to get away. “There’s a shallow grave there. But no body.”
“What?” Patsy took a step toward her. “Bullshit.”
“Dead bodies are hardly something I would lie about, Pats.” Please, please, let the nickname reach her.
The other woman’s face didn’t soften an iota, but she did stride over to the log. And—oh, God!—actually turned her back on Hayley.
Who hesitated only a nanosecond before striking the back of Patsy’s head with her rock.
Unfortunately, she pulled her punch at the last second. It wasn’t smart, but, dammit, until this moment she had never struck another soul. Too bad her squeamishness cost her the chance to knock out Patsy the way she’d intended.
It did cause the other woman to stagger and fall over the log. Patsy bobbled her bow and with her feet still on this side of the log and her forearms slapping flat in the dirt on the other side, it tipped her quiver almost upside down. The arrows scattered on the ground in front of her.
Hayley lunged, reaching over her former friend’s back. The bow had skittered too far away to grab, but she swept up all but two of the arrows before Patsy recovered. Something she did too damn swiftly, jabbing back an elbow.
Since Hayley was all but plastered against the other woman’s back the intended jab mostly slid off her side. It did, however, drive home the fact she was out of time and had better do something to up her odds if she wanted to escape this nightmare alive. She smashed her rock down on the hand Patsy had planted in the dirt to push herself up.
Patsy howled and cradled her fingers in her other palm. “You fucking bitch!”
“Really? That’s supposed to hurt my feelings? You just admitted you’re a stone-cold killer.” She made a grab for the arrow still within her reach, but missed it. Knowing it was time to use her one and only advantage, she shoved upright.
And ran like hell.
She stuck to the paths. Some were overgrown, as if the current crop of school kids didn’t mess around in the woods the way they used to. Even partially obstructed tracks were faster than breaking trail through the bush and trees, however. And the farthest from Patsy she could get, the happier she would be.
She knew these woods a lot better than her former pal did but not with a wide enough margin to allow herself to get cocky. Patsy had never liked tramping through the wilds the way she and Kurstin had, but neither was she dead clueless. Hell, for all Hayley knew her old high school chum had spent the past decade hunting and target practicing in this very spot.
Pushing her body harder than she’d ever done, Hayley felt her left butt cheek throb like a rotten tooth and her traitorous heart pound so hard she could barely breathe. She wouldn’t be kicking up the burners any time soon to disappear down the trail in a blur of spinning legs like a cartoon roadrunner.
Still, if she could get to the train trestle without being nailed to a tree by Patsy’s remaining arrows, she had a decent chance of getting away. Patsy had always hated crossing the trestle. How many times had they teased her about making turtles look speedy as she inched her way across it?
Hayley rounded a curve in the path and was only a few additional twists and turns in the path from reaching the rails leading to the trestle when a mound of rags piled against one of the massive Douglas firs suddenly stirred. Slapping a hand to her chest, she skidded to a halt as something besides the need to escape penetrated her brain. Wait...what? Was that—?
Off in the distance she could hear Patsy hot on her trail. Okay, not quite hot. But sure as hell too close for comfort.
“Help. Me.” The voice was faint, hoarse.
Hayley jumped as if a skeletal finger had scratched down her spine. “What the f—”
The bundle of dirty clothing moved again. A man lifted his head.
She took her first really good look. And said flatly, “You.”
Because, of course it was Ty Holloway. Who else would it be? As if things were not bad enough, she suddenly felt thrust into the middle of a new-age morality tale. He was clearly in rough shape, gravely injured and weak. And a really big part of her wanted nothing more than to save herself by sacrificing him to Patsy’s madness. She didn’t owe this guy a damn thing.
And yet—
That nasty, bloody hole in his chest was because of her. Because he had had the temerity to broadcast the story of her moral dilemma in a way that brought her national attention. Having already thrown aside her nonviolence policy in order to strike Patsy with a rock—twice—she kind of wouldn’t mind beating the shit out of Ty for the public spectacle he had made of her life.
But did he deser
ve to die for telling a truth she had not wanted told? Kurstie seemed to see something in the guy—something she sure as hell could not. Or at least her friend had before he’d screwed her over as well.
She swore and squatted to get a shoulder under his armpit. Seeing the arrows still clutched in her hand, she said, “Here,” and shoved them into Ty’s. “Don’t drop these, we do not want Patsy finding them.” Then she wrestled him to his feet.
“Come on. I know you’re injured and, given how hot you feel, are probably running a fever. But you have to move your ass if you don’t want us dying here. Patsy isn’t far behind and she still has two arrows left.” And hopefully a hand too crippled to shoot straight.
But she wasn’t betting their lives on it. “Move it, Holloway!”
He groaned but did his best to comply.
His best wasn’t very good, and it promptly became apparent she needed to change her strategy. She had no idea how much blood the man had lost, but he was clearly too weak or in too much pain to do more than force one foot in front of the other.
She would give him this: he was not a whiner. But what had been a race between her and Patsy now became a game of hide and seek.
She kept them going toward the trestle but managed to get Ty off the trail and out of sight when she heard Patsy getting too close. Putting a hand over his mouth, she muffled his harsh breathing as Patsy stormed by muttering less than sane-sounding threats.
Hayley dredged up every hidey-hole she could remember between here and the trestle and hoped to hell they still existed. But her plan for her and Ty to follow as soon the Patsy was far enough ahead, hide out when the other woman backtracked, then try to get farther ahead of her again wasn’t feasible. Ty was in no shape for a game of Hide and Seek. A short while later, when Hayley heard Patsy headed back this way, she could do little more than hope a new plan occurred to her. And fast.
Patsy had once again moved some distance past them before she figured out what Hayley was doing. And, oh shit, demonstrated she could still adjust when she suddenly sang out, “Come out, come out, wherever you are!”
Hayley felt Ty shiver next to her. She didn’t blame him; she had goosebumps-on-goosebumps of her own. If Patsy’s voice was anything to go by, the woman had tripped straight into crazy town. She had always been so logical-minded. But the chaotic manner in which she was chasing them through the woods was purely reactive. She’d certainly shown no sign of working through the logistics.
So far it had worked in their favor, but the woman was a hunter. Hayley feared Patsy would take a deep breath and start applying not only logical thinking to the problem of tracking them, but her hunting experience as well. And if Pats started looking for signs of where they had been, she would find their current hiding spot.
It was a good spot, but Hayley didn’t fool herself into thinking they had left no clues for someone carefully searching. Ty wasn’t bleeding at the moment, but his shirt sported still-damp bloodstains that may have transferred to the overgrowth they’d plowed through. And the two of them must have flattened their fair share of grasses and moss and bent all kinds of branches and twigs.
“How far are we from where we need to be?” Ty breathed the question directly in her ear, making her start.
She shifted to reply in the same method. “Not far from the trestle. But the moment we start to cross it we will be out in the open.”
“Fuck.” He slumped. Looking her in the eye, he said softly. “You have to leave me. I’ll only slow you down.”
She had thought it herself, of course. Yet to her surprise her knee-jerk reaction was a categorical, “No.”
“Look, I’m not good at heights at the best of times. Right now I doubt I have the strength to even crawl the trestle. Kurstin told me you two were gazelles on the thing. Cover me up as best you can and go find help. Send someone back for me.”
She hesitated, then nodded. She spent the next few minutes getting him comfortable on his back and carefully patting moss over the wound in his chest to hopefully keep any more dirt from getting in. Then she covered him in downed leaves and branches. As she started to cover his face, he said a quiet, “Wait.”
She stopped with the final camouflage hovering above him.
He looked her in the eye. “If something happens to me, tell Kurstin I’m sorry. Tell her I really did care for her…more than I have ever cared for anyone in my life. Please stress that I know I made the wrong damn decision when I chose my career over her.”
“Nothing is going to happen to you.”
“But if it does—“
“I will tell her. Exactly as you said it.”
“Thanks. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry I screwed up your life as well.”
“You know what? I thought you did. But right this minute it doesn’t seem all that important.”
His mouth curved up on one side and the sheer rueful humor in the midst of all this madness gave Hayley an unexpected glimpse of what had drawn Kurstin to him. “Nothing like being chased through the woods by a bat-shit crazy homicidal bitch to straighten out your priorities,” he murmured dryly.
“I know, right?” She gestured with her full hands. “Ready?”
He gave a slight dip of his chin.
She started covering his face. His skin was dirty from clawing his way out of his grave, but it shone around his nose and mouth where she wanted to leave breathing holes. He had no doubt scrubbed at them to clear his air passages. Setting the camouflage aside, she dug beneath layers of dead vegetation to scoop up damp dirt. Carefully, she streaked it over the clean areas, then tried the flora covering again.
This time he blended in.
“I’m covering our tracks,” she whispered and set about restoring their hiding place. When it looked as undisturbed as she could make it, she climbed to her feet. “I’m going to leave while she’s still a decent distance away. Move as little as possible and I’ll get help to you the instant I can.”
A near-inaudible grunt was her only reply.
“Okay, then. Hang in there, Ty.” She turned and carefully made her way back to the trail. She looked around to mark the spot in her mind. Then she broke into a run, trying to move as quietly as possible.
But in her head she screamed Jon-Michael’s name with every stride she took.
Twenty-Two
Jon-Michael had to bite back the urge to crow as he strode out of Olivet Manufacturing’s boardroom. He didn’t even attempt to prevent the big grin spreading across his face as well. He was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that, with the exception of his dad and Richard’s favorite stooge, Jorge Jensen, the board had voted unanimously to adopt his proposal. Or that the legal department was even now preparing an offer to lease the part he’d developed. It was a big-damn-deal gold letter day.
His old man and Jensen might not have stuck around to congratulate him but everyone else wanted to. The minute he could break away from the back slaps, and Mildred‘s brisk handshake, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and called Hayley. It went straight to voice mail. Disappointment itched in his gut, but glancing at the time he saw it was just after five. Maybe Bluey called her in to work early. He’d go grab a club soda at the bar and if she wasn’t there, he’d hang with the regulars until she arrived.
Before he left, however, he leaned into Kurstin’s office. “Hey.”
“Hey, yourself!” She hopped up from her desk and came around to give him a big hug. Pulling back, she grinned up at him. “I’m sorry I ran out on you. O’Hurley’s is on central time and I needed to catch them before they closed for the night.” Waving the subject aside with a whip of her hand, she squeezed him again. “Congratulations—you did it!”
“I did!” It wouldn’t surprise him to hear his big-ass grin bordered on maniacal. “Hayley and Mildred and everyone else who tried to talk me into presenting my proposal sooner were right. I let personal issues with Dad get in my way.” Laughing, he picked up his sister and swung her around. “But the board loved me!
” With a final squeeze, he set her back on her feet. “Have you talked to Hayley since the meeting?”
“No. Too busy.”
“My call went straight to voicemail, but I thought I would drop by Bluey’s to celebrate with a club soda. Maybe she’ll be there.”
After an additional minute or two of rehashing the high points of his presentation, he headed out. He walked into the blues bar less than ten minutes later. His gaze went straight to Hayley’s usual workspace, but Bluey was behind the bar. Jon-Michael walked over. “Club soda on the rocks, barkeep! In fact, let’s go crazy and add a lime.”
Bluey looked up from the American Blues Scene magazine spread open on the bar. “You’re in a good mood.” He reached for a glass with one hand and the soda spigot with the other.
“Had a really good day at work. Hayley around?”
“You ever known her to be here this early, boy?”
Jon-Michael’s mood took a dip. “No, but I was hoping. I tried calling to tell her my news but she didn’t answer.” His cell phone rang and pulling it from his pocket, he saw it was Kurstin. “Excuse me, Harve. I have to get this.” He thumbed the phone icon. “What’s up?”
“I forgot Hayley got a call from Patsy when I talked to her before the meeting. She said they were gonna do some bow and arrow practice.”
“She should be back any minute to get ready for work then. Thanks, sis. I wondered where she’d gotten off to.”
There was dead air for a moment, then she said, “Bluey plays the best music.”
“Doesn’t he? Why don’t you join me.”
“Lovely idea! I’m almost to my car. See you in a few.”
He had barely shoved the cell back in his hip pocket when Joe Beal materialized at his side.
The other man ordered a drink from Bluey, then turned to him. “Hey.”
“How’s it goin’, Joe?”
Joe shrugged. “Can’t complain. You?”
“I had an excellent day.” Jon-Michael looked around. “Patsy with you?” The words had barely left his mouth before he emitted a Wrooong! buzzer noise. “Sorry, stupid question. She’s out showing Hayley how to use her compound bow.”
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