by Brenda Novak
“Pretty upset.”
“At you? Or someone else?”
“Me.”
“What’s the worst it could be?” she said with a doubtful laugh.
Vivian reached across the table to take her hand. “Claire, everything I’ve ever told you is a lie.”
Again, Claire seemed tempted to make light of it, until the intensity on Vivian’s face convinced her that this really wasn’t a joke. Then her eyebrows knitted together and the worry Vivian had glimpsed earlier reappeared. “Maybe you should be more specific.”
“I’m not who you think I am. I’m not Vivian Stewart.”
How often did someone hear that from her best friend?
She seemed to gulp before grabbing the table. “What are you talking about?”
Vivian didn’t want this to hurt their friendship, but she didn’t see how it wouldn’t. “That’s an assumed name, one I picked myself. I don’t have a mother who suffers from diabetes and my parents aren’t retired schoolteachers. I don’t have a sister, pregnant or otherwise. I have one brother who’s married and has one and a half children, and that’s it. They’re all I have in the world, besides my own kids. And I can’t even see them. We’ve been on the run and had to split up for safety.”
Letting go of the table, Claire sat back. “You don’t mean you’re wanted by the police.”
“No.” Vivian struggled to decide what to tell her next. Now that she’d started, she wanted to get it all out as fast as possible. “There are some…men. They—they tried to kill me once. In Colorado. They’re coming after me again. It’s really my brother they want, or at least that’s how it began. Now…they hate me as much as they do him.”
“They tried to kill you?”
“Yes. They murdered the U.S. marshal who was guarding me and then they came for me.”
“Wow.” Other than in the movies, Claire had probably never heard of anything like this. It wasn’t the kind of thing that happened in Pineview. Neither did murder, yet Pat was dead. Neither did kidnapping, yet Claire’s mother was missing. Was that what she was thinking? That maybe nothing was what it seemed?
Vivian did her best to explain about Ellen and her uncle and her murdered stepfather and what’d happened to Virgil and how he came to be associated with The Crew. The more she talked, the more unbelievable it sounded, even to her ears. Did Claire think she’d lost her mind?
She didn’t act as skeptical as Vivian had thought she would. When Vivian finished and looked up at her helplessly, waiting to see how her friend would take the news, Claire glanced around them, then leaned in close. “What do these men look like?”
That wasn’t the response Vivian had been expecting. “Ink has tattoos everywhere, but he broke out of prison with a guy I’ve never seen before. He’s likely got plenty of gang tattoos, too.” She thought of Pretty Boy and revised that statement. “Then again, Ink’s partner in crime could look as clean-cut as a Mormon missionary.”
Claire’s face drained of color, but the question that came out of her mouth wasn’t, “How could you do that to me?” or “Why couldn’t you trust me?” There was no recrimination, no accusation or anger that she’d been misled. Instead, her voice urgent, she asked, “What was your name before?”
“That depends,” Vivian replied. “I’ve had to assume two different identities over the past four years.”
“The name these people would have. What is it?”
“My real name. Laurel Hodges.”
Her jaw dropped and she brought a hand to her chest. “Oh, God. I saw them at Mailboxes Plus not more than an hour ago. Two guys. One sat outside in a white truck. I couldn’t see him too well. But the other guy approached me. He said he was looking for his sister, who was adopted out at birth. That she was supposed to live in this area. And he told me her name was Laurel Hodges.”
Vivian’s blood ran cold. She’d been afraid The Crew had come to Pineview.
Now she knew for sure.
20
“This is it? You’re sure?” Myles stood with Ned in front of Allen Biddle’s house east of town. It wasn’t a likely place to drop off a couple of hitchhikers. There was no bus stop, no pay phone, no café and no gas station, just one residence—the lodgelike home of a middle-aged bachelor who split his time between Montana and Alaska, and hired out as a hunting guide.
“Positive, Sheriff. I knew they wouldn’t want to continue on with me.”
“Why not?”
“Because I wasn’t going all the way into town.” About forty years old, Ned had lived in Pineview most of his life and, when he wasn’t on the ball diamond, dressed like an old cowboy. He hitched his Wranglers a little higher as he talked but couldn’t fasten them around the big belly that hung well over his belt. “I came from Libby, had to pick up a few things there,” he said. “Saw them when I was coming back and stopped, but explained I wasn’t going all the way to Pineview.”
“And they said…”
“To take them as far as I could, and that’s what I did.”
Myles scratched his head, trying to determine whether the two had walked into town, found another ride or headed into the mountains. He doubted they’d gone into the mountains. He’d checked on their Toyota before leaving Pineview. All the camping and fishing equipment he’d spotted earlier was still in the bed. “Where were you going?” he asked Ned.
“I bought Leland’s Christmas tree farm a few months ago, so I was on my way up there.”
Myles hadn’t heard this. “Insurance business must be good.”
“Same as always. Good enough. But I was looking for something I could do on the side, and when this opportunity came along, I decided to take it.”
For all his cowboy attire, Myles couldn’t see Ned as a farmer. “Do you know anything about growing Christmas trees?”
“Not much.” He produced a rueful grin. “But I’m learning.”
Myles hoped he was better at farming than softball. “So you were going to the farm when you picked up these boys.”
“Yeah. Turnoff’s right there.” He pointed. “Ain’t nothin’ up that road but trees so I figured they’d have a better shot of reaching town if I dropped them here.”
“They didn’t try to persuade you or…coerce you to take them any farther?”
“No, sir.”
Squatting at the side of the road, Myles examined the dirt for any sign of the shoe imprints they’d found at the scene of Pat’s murder but didn’t see any. “Did it look as if they were armed?”
“Not that I could tell. They didn’t have a rifle or anything obvious.”
Myles raised one hand against the glare of the sun. “What did they have with them?”
“Nothing but the clothes on their backs.”
“They tell you where they were hoping to go?”
“Pineview.”
He stood. “I mean once they got there. Did they mention a motel, a campground, some place to eat?”
“No.”
Myles kicked a pebble across the road. “They had to give some reason for needing a ride. There aren’t a lot of hitchhikers around here.”
“Said their truck broke down a ways back. That’s all.”
“You didn’t ask why they didn’t ride with the tow?”
“I didn’t know they’d been able to call one.”
Of course. How would he know Myles had found them on the side of the road and called Harvey? “What did you talk about while they were in your truck?”
“The weather, mostly. After we were driving for a bit, I brought up Pat’s murder. They asked me if the police had any leads on who did it and I said no.” He spat at the pavement. “But you suspect they killed Pat, right? That’s why you’ve been passing out flyers like the one I saw at the coffeehouse this morning.”
“That’s right. I’m pretty sure it’s them. Did you happen to notice the shoes they were wearing?”
“Tennis shoes.”
“What brand?”
He shrugged. “Couldn�
�t tell you. Didn’t pay close enough attention. They all look the same to someone who prefers boots.” With a proud gleam in his eye, he lifted one bowed leg to show off his fancy snakeskin boots.
“Nice,” Myles said, but scarcely glanced at them. He was too intent on what he was doing. “Did they both have on the same kind of tennis shoes?”
Ned’s eyebrows slid up. “Now that you mention it, I think they did.”
Would it do any good to search the area? It’d been yesterday afternoon that Ned had seen them…?.
Myles figured he’d check with Allen at least, and take a peek in his outbuildings. “Is there anything else you can tell me, Ned? Anything that might give me some idea where to search?”
He spat again and shook his head. “Wish I could. They pretended to be searching for someone themselves, and I stupidly believed them.”
“What do you mean?”
“The young guy told me he’d come to town hoping to reunite with his biological sister, who was adopted out at birth. Woman by the name of Laurel…something. Asked me if I’d heard of her. I told him I hadn’t and that was about it.”
Vivian… Because this was taking much longer than planned, Myles called the office and asked Deputy Campbell to ride over to Pineview and sit in front of her house until he could get there himself. “What’d they look like?”
“The one guy had tattoos everywhere, just like it says on the flyer. He didn’t say much. His younger friend did all the talking.”
“They give you their names?”
“Ron Howard and Peter Ferguson. Seemed like nice guys. I never would’ve guessed they were wanted by the police.” He offered Myles a grim smile. “Or that I was lucky to get away with my life.”
“Thanks for coming forward,” Myles said.
As Ned left, Myles knocked on Allen’s door. But he didn’t learn anything new. Allen insisted no one had stopped by. He hadn’t seen two men rambling around, and he doubted there was anyone on his property, but he helped search just in case.
“Where else do you think they might’ve gone?” Myles asked when they were done.
“Who knows? If it were me, I’d make my way to town. A man’s gotta eat.”
“Yeah.” Frustrated that he’d come up empty, Myles let Allen go on about his business, but he was reluctant to leave. There had to be some way to find Ink and the little asswipe who was with him before anyone else got hurt. He just needed to think like they would. There wasn’t much out here for two people without even a tent. Not only would they need food, they’d need shelter. It was easiest to come by those things in town. Town was also where they’d have a better chance of locating Vivian. And yet…this was where their trail had gone cold.
He drove around to a few cabins in the area but could document no other sightings. By the time he called it quits, it was getting dark and he felt like a bloodhound who wouldn’t give up on a scent.
Deputy Campbell checked in by radio just as he was getting into his car.
“How’s she doing?” Myles asked.
“Don’t know. She hasn’t come back.”
“What?”
“I’ve been sitting here all afternoon but haven’t seen a soul. I’m thinking she spent the day in Kalispell.”
That was a possibility. Lord knew anyone would be hesitant to return to the situation going on here.
“Let me know when she arrives.”
“Will do,” Campbell promised.
Myles looked at the clock. He needed to get back and relieve his deputy, who had a young family waiting eagerly for him. He was on his way. But he was close to where Marley was staying, so he decided to swing by and pick her up first.
Music blared from the house as he approached the front door. He had to ring the doorbell three times before he managed to rouse anyone, but eventually Alexis, Elizabeth’s sixteen-year-old sister, answered. Dressed in a spaghetti-strap T-shirt and the shortest shorts he’d ever seen, she smiled up at him as if her chest wasn’t all but falling out of her shirt. “Hey, Sheriff.”
Myles avoided looking anywhere below the neck. As far as he was concerned, she was still a child. “Hi, there. Looks like you’ve gotten some sun.” Her red face contrasted sharply with the circles of white around her eyes, giving her an owl-like appearance.
“A little.” She pressed her cheek to show him just how bad it was. “I spent the morning on the chaise. I didn’t realize I was getting burned because it wasn’t that hot.”
“Some aloe vera should help.”
She shrugged away the suggestion. “I’m not worried about it. It’ll turn into a tan by tomorrow.”
“Hope so. Hey, can you grab Marley for me?”
A frown tugged at the corners of her mouth. “I was afraid you were going to ask me that. She’s not here. The girls went to Kalispell with my mom.”
“For what?”
“Shopping.”
Marley had left town without telling him? She knew damn well that she was supposed to ask. She’d say she “forgot” to call—how many times had he heard that excuse?—but she’d probably decided to ask forgiveness instead of permission. She always wanted to go with Elizabeth’s mom. Those excursions meant more to her than any others. He suspected being with Janet reminded her of being with her own mother.
Wondering whether to leave word that Janet should bring Marley home, since she’d taken her out of town without his permission, or come back and pick her up, he cleared his throat. “What are they shopping for?”
“School clothes.”
“But it’s only June. School just got out.”
“My mom starts early,” Alexis said with a laugh. “And I think they wanted to get away, have a girls’ day out. They talked about seeing a movie, too.”
That meant it could be late when they returned. He’d have to ground Marley for disobeying him, but no doubt she’d think it was worth the sacrifice. “Why didn’t you go?” he asked, still trying to figure out what to do about this.
“I already had plans with my boyfriend.”
That would explain Jett Busath’s truck in the driveway. He and Alexis had been an item since Christmas. Their relationship had so captured Marley’s imagination that it’d been all she could talk about for weeks.
“Your father home?” Myles wanted to alert him to what was going on, tell him there were people running around who’d busted out of prison and were very dangerous, but he suspected Henry was gone, and Alexis confirmed it.
“No, he’s on a business trip. That’s why Mom wanted to get out. He’s been traveling, and she’s been stuck here doing laundry and dishes.”
“I see. So you’re babysitting?”
“No, my brothers are at camp this week.”
Alexis was home alone, wearing next to nothing and spending the evening with a boy who, at sixteen, probably had more hormones than brains. Myles’s father-instinct was buzzing like crazy, urging him to warn her to be careful. He knew her parents would freak out if she got pregnant. They were hoping she’d win a scholarship for softball, had big plans for their oldest daughter. But as protective as he felt toward everyone in the community, especially Elizabeth’s family because he knew them so well and they had so much influence over Marley, it wasn’t his place to get involved.
“What time will the girls be home, do you know?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No. Sorry.”
Resting his hands on his utility belt, he turned to look out over the front yard. He liked this property. The cabin was more modern than rustic, but the convenience of having a big, gourmet kitchen and plenty of bathrooms added to its appeal. The Rogers family got to live out in the wilds without missing any of the conveniences of city life—except when it snowed. Then it was hard getting out to the main road, but they always managed.
“If I know Marley and Elizabeth, they’re going to call you up and beg to have Marley stay over again,” Alexis said. “Why don’t you just pick her up in the morning?”
Myles preferred she come h
ome tonight. He hated having her out of his sight when there were dangerous men floating around. But after what he’d learned about Vivian—or Laurel—maybe it was for the best if Marley wasn’t at home while he tried to track down the fugitives. Surely she’d be safer here, sequestered in the mountains with her friend’s family, than sleeping next door to the woman The Crew had come to kill.
“Okay, that’s fine,” he said. “Tell her to call me when she gets home, and we’ll make arrangements for tomorrow.”
A voice issued from somewhere inside the house. “Alexis? Where are you?”
Jett was growing impatient. “I’ll let you get back to your, um, company,” Myles said.
“Thanks.” She sent him a fleeting smile and closed the door.
Trudie’s Grocery was a mom-and-pop establishment with elevator music playing in the background, the kind of place that sold homemade pie and jellies and reminded L.J. of the store his grandparents used to own when they were alive. He lived with them during the summers between his fifth-and seventh-grade years. Those six months before he went into foster care were the happiest of his life, so he liked the feel of this place, the neat rows of cans and snacks, the freezer section at the back with the ice cream and frozen foods. He used to help stock that stuff.
This was one of the rare occasions he’d been away from Ink since Ink was transferred to the California Men’s Colony and became his cellie. Because he really needed the break, he took his time meandering through the aisles before approaching the birdlike woman perched on a stool behind the cash register.
Preoccupied by a show on the small TV behind the counter, she barely looked at him. “That all for tonight, honey?”
“Yeah, that’s it. Thanks.”
She wore a badge that read Trudie and although he’d never met another Trudie her name somehow fit. With her hair dyed an awful orange color and teased up the way his grandma used to do hers, she wore a purple smock and bright red lipstick with matching nail polish. She wasn’t bad-looking despite the terrible dye job, not for someone in her seventies. He liked that she took care of herself. He could smell her perfume from the other side of the counter. It didn’t smell particularly expensive, but he thought if he ever got married, he’d like to be with a woman who always tried to look her best.
