In Seconds b-2

by Brenda Novak

  The cash register beeped as she scanned his chocolate milk, pork rinds, whiskey and condoms he threw down at the last second.

  He glanced out the window to see Ink sitting in the white Dodge Ram that had belonged to the men they’d killed. Ink had taken to driving. He stayed behind the wheel and left the engine idling while L.J. ducked into one place after another to ask about Laurel Hodges. At this point, L.J. was in as much of a hurry to find her as Ink was. He wanted to finish whatever they had to do in Montana and get the hell on the road. Pineview was so small, he felt they stood out, especially with Ink tatted up the way he was.

  Seeming anxious not to miss a minute of her program, Trudie handed him his bag with an absentminded, “Thank you. Come again,” and returned to her stool.

  It was time to launch into his spiel. “Excuse me, but… I’m hoping you can help me.”

  She looked at him for the first time.

  “I’m searching for my sister,” he began. “She’s about five-ten and—”

  He didn’t get any farther before Trudie’s gaze flicked toward a flyer taped to the side of her register. Then her eyes widened and she nearly fell off her stool.

  Almost as surprised as she was, L.J. checked the flyer to see what was wrong—and saw a picture of him and Ink beneath the heading Sheriff’s Notice. A phone number and an explanation had been printed on there, as well, but he didn’t take the time to read it. He didn’t need to. He knew what that flyer was, just as he knew Trudie had recognized him.

  Leaving the snacks and the condoms, he bolted out the door and jumped into the passenger seat of the truck. “Go! Go! Go!”

  Ink didn’t pause to question him. Evidently the terror on his face was enough to get an immediate response. Heedless of any back pain he might be suffering, Ink shoved the gearshift into Reverse and launched the vehicle backward, only to shift again before they could even come to a stop.

  Positive that they were about to have an accident, L.J. closed his eyes. He knew Ink couldn’t be watching for oncoming traffic. He was too busy putting some distance between them and that store. L.J. was more afraid of getting arrested than crashing, anyway. He’d bought and sold drugs, and he’d beat up a few people, but he’d never considered doing the shit Ink had gotten him into. Shooting those hunters. Beating that real-estate agent to death. Getting that woman in L.A. killed. If they got busted, he’d go down for all of it.

  Rocks smacked the undercarriage like machine-gun fire as their backend fishtailed and their tires spun gravel. But once they reached the pavement, they had traction and lurched forward with greater power. Miraculously, Ink managed to bring the truck under control, and they hurtled away from the little grocery store without hitting anything. But only because the road was clear.

  Grabbing the rearview mirror, L.J. turned it so he could see if Trudie had come out of the store. He didn’t want her to jot down their license plate number. Then the sheriff would be able to trace the plate and figure out it belonged to the men they’d killed.

  All he could see was a big cloud of dust; that was probably all she could see, too.

  “What happened in there?” Ink asked once Pineview had disappeared from sight.

  “She recognized me!” He hadn’t bothered with his seat belt. He braced himself with one hand on the door and the other on the dash, eyeing the rearview mirror to see if a cop car would come racing up from behind.

  Ink smacked the seat between them. “How? What the hell happened?”

  L.J.’s heart seemed to be chugging harder than the pistons in the engine. “How should I know? I went in and asked about my long-lost sister, like usual. At first the woman seemed fine, but then she stared at me as if she’d swallowed a marble. I wasn’t sure what was going on until I saw the flyer.”

  “What flyer?”

  “A sheriff’s bulletin with my picture on it. Yours, too.”

  Ink cursed. He was so worked up he didn’t seem to be slowing down.

  Now that they were safely away, L.J. felt there was no reason to draw attention by speeding. Getting pulled over would put an end to their freedom, possibly for life. “Hey, can you take it easy?”

  “You want me to take it easy?” Ink snapped.

  The wildness in his eyes frightened L.J. and he let go of the armrest long enough to motion for his partner to calm down. “Whoa! We need to blend in, not stand out, right?”

  Ink didn’t like being told what to do. L.J. had never seen anyone get angry quicker or for less reason. He was always looking for a fight. But he seemed to see the logic in L.J.’s words because he eased up on the gas. “We’re going to find her.”

  “Of course we will.” L.J. just hoped they’d find her soon. Because until then, his own safety was in jeopardy.

  Ink commandeered the rearview mirror and checked it every few seconds. “So what did you do when she recognized you?”

  “What do you think? I ran out before she could call the cops.”

  “Why didn’t you shoot her? Dead people can’t talk.”

  The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. Murder wasn’t his answer to everything. “I wasn’t the only shopper in there, that’s why. There was a mother and two kids.”

  “There weren’t any other vehicles outside.”

  “They must’ve walked.”

  Somehow Ink knew he was lying. “You can’t be too scared to use that gun, man.”

  “I’m not scared,” he grumbled. “I just don’t see any reason to kill people unless I have to.”

  “You should’ve put a plug in her.”

  Bullshit. That was only going to get him into more trouble. He had to escape from this psychopath. The sooner, the better. He just wasn’t sure how to go about it. If he left now, Ink would find Laurel, kill her, then come after him. And if Ink ever caught up with him…

  “Do you have a death wish or something?” he asked. “Because they’re gonna go for the death penalty when they get hold of you.”

  “They won’t get hold of me.” He must not have seen anything worrisome coming up from behind because he made the turn that led to their cabin and they rode in silence for the next twenty minutes.

  Once they pulled into the drive, L.J. stared out at the growing darkness. He was thinking about the men Ink had shot and the stomach-churning process of burying them. He wondered about their families, whether or not they had children. This was all so senseless. His life was turning into a nightmare. He didn’t feel big or bad, like he thought he would. He just felt like shit. Worse than shit, because he knew how ashamed his grandfather would be.

  “What are we going to do?” he asked. “We can’t go back into town. Not with all those flyers everywhere.”

  “We’ll wait until it’s too dark to see us clearly.”

  He had an answer for everything. They hadn’t shaved since they left the California Men’s Colony, but his beard growth hadn’t stopped Trudie from recognizing him. “And what if it doesn’t work? In another day or two, every one in town will have seen that flyer.”

  “That’s why we’ve got to go back tonight. But we’ll wait another hour or so, let things die down.”

  Bile rose in L.J.’s throat. “Are you joking? We can’t go back there.”

  “We have no choice. And we need to do it soon, or you’re right—it’s only gonna get harder.”

  It was already hard enough. “That’s asking for trouble. We’re screwed, you know that.”

  Ink shut off the engine. “No, we’re not.”

  L.J. didn’t move. He’d pissed himself rushing out of that damn grocery store, and there was no way he wanted Ink to see the wet spot on his jeans. He’d never live it down.

  Fortunately, it was getting darker by the minute. In a little while it would be too dark to see that small detail, especially way the hell out here. “How can you be so sure?”

  Ink met his gaze. “I remembered her name.”

  L.J. didn’t immediately follow. “What are you talking about?”

  “Laurel�
�s daughter. I remember her name!”

  This wasn’t exciting news. L.J. had been a fool to come to Montana with Ink, but…now that he was here, he had to get through it the best he could until he found a way out. He’d been so set on becoming a Crew member. Now he couldn’t imagine why. If they were anything like Ink, then Ink was right. He wasn’t cut out for it. “How?”

  “Don’t know. When you came out screaming, it just popped into my head. Can you believe it?”

  Frankly he couldn’t. What if Ink only thought he knew the name? It didn’t make sense that he couldn’t remember it for so long and then suddenly there it was. Was Ink bullshitting him? “You’re dreaming.”

  “Dreaming?” Ink echoed. “You mean lying, don’t you? But I’m not. And even if I was, it’s not your place to question me.”

  Question him? What was he, L.J.’s father? L.J. had never had a father, and he didn’t want one now, especially a freaking psychopath only fifteen years older than he was. “We almost got caught back there!”

  “I’m telling you we’re going to be able to find her now. Then we’ll get the hell out of here.”

  Finding her wouldn’t save the day. Too much shit had already gone down. L.J. was pretty sure he was headed for death row no matter what. “But she might’ve changed her daughter’s name, too. Or given her up for adoption. Or maybe she…she died of a childhood disease. This solves nothing. Let’s leave Montana. Get out. Revenge isn’t worth spending the rest of our lives in prison. Or worse.”

  “You gotta be kidding me.”

  L.J. had the impression that Ink would kill him right here, right now, if he did or said anything more to defy him. “All I’m saying is…we’re taking a risk.” He hated himself for backing off, but Ink was too unpredictable, too volatile.

  “That’s what I thought.” Ink opened his door. “Anyway, you’ll see. She wouldn’t give this kid up. And she didn’t change the kid’s name—that would confuse the little bitch. Laurel isn’t the kind of mother who’d want to cause her precious babies any pain.”

  “How do you know?”

  L.J. couldn’t believe he’d dared ask another question. He wanted to kick himself when Ink’s attention swung back to him and those cold eyes riveted onto his face, but Ink seemed to have snapped out of psycho mode.

  “I’ve seen how hard she tries to protect them.”

  With a sigh, L.J. thrust a hand through his hair. He was as trapped as he’d ever been in prison, maybe more so. In another hour, they’d be cruising through town, risking their futures again. “But is her daughter’s name different enough that people will know who we’re talking about?”

  When Ink smiled, it was the coldest smile L.J. had ever seen. If he’d needed proof that Ink was crazy, there it was. Jack Nicholson in The Shining had nothing on him. “People will know who we’re talking about. How many little girls in this town are called Mia?”

  Not many, as L.J. soon learned. When they returned to town, they found a woman who was just locking up Chrissy’s Nice Twice store. Afraid his usual spiel would only alert her to trouble, especially after what had happened at that grocery store, L.J. approached with a frown. “Darn, you’re closed?”

  The woman pivoted to face him. “We closed several hours ago, actually. Why, is there something you need?”

  “I was hoping to buy a gift for my niece, Mia. Maybe you know her?”

  “Vivian Stewart’s daughter?”

  He had no idea, but he figured it’d be smarter to play along. “Yes.”

  She hitched her purse higher on her shoulder while juggling a box of files and an armful of clothing he guessed she was taking home to wash or mend. “Oh, I know the whole family. Mia goes to school with my daughter.”

  “Can I help you with that?”

  Smiling in relief, she allowed him to take the box. “What did you have in mind?”

  “Maybe a pretty dress? You know, just a nice surprise since I’m visiting from out of town and haven’t seen her in a couple years.”

  “Did you want a present for Jake, too?”

  He felt a rush of relief and foreboding at the same time. He had the right person. Ink had mentioned that Mia had a brother. But he knew what that would mean…?. “Of course. That’d be perfect.”

  “I can help you. Come on in.” Pleased to have a paying customer despite the late hour, she reopened her store and did exactly as she’d promised. She helped him choose a dress for Mia and some sporting equipment for Jake, whom she admitted liking better than anyone else in the family. Then, as he stood at the register to pay, he said he was afraid he might have trouble finding the address, since he’d never visited before.

  So she drew him a map.

  21

  When he saw Vivian’s Blazer turn down their street, Myles breathed a huge sigh of relief. Arriving home to find that she was still gone at nearly eleven o’clock had left him with a growing sense of panic. He’d asked the deputies he had on duty to look for her or her vehicle, but when no one was able to spot it, he couldn’t help wondering if Ink and Lloyd had bumped into her after tearing out of Trudie’s Grocery—and dragged her into the woods.

  With such terrible thoughts churning in his mind, he’d been cursing himself for not going with her this morning and sticking with her all day. That would’ve been the only sure way to protect her. He’d briefly considered doing so when he saw her packing up. But Rex was there, at least for half the trip. Myles had decided his own time would be better spent in Pineview, trying to catch these guys. But he hadn’t made as much progress as he’d hoped.

  While she parked, he waited on the porch steps so she’d see him. He didn’t want her to be frightened. He also didn’t want her to shoot him.

  “Where’ve you been?” he called as she got out. He couldn’t hide the concern in his voice, but he figured he was allowed to feel concerned. He was the sheriff. It was his job to care about the people in his jurisdiction. The fact that he was more worried about her than he would’ve been about anyone else made him wish he could’ve left Campbell here, or assigned someone else to keep her safe through the night. But he lived right next door; he was the obvious choice.

  She checked to make sure the street was clear before hurrying toward him.

  “It’s true, you know,” he went on. “The Crew is here. Two guys. They killed Pat, and now they’re looking for you. A few hours ago they went into Trudie’s Grocery, asking for Laurel Hodges. I got the call on my way home, and rushed over there, but we couldn’t find any trace of them.”

  Her shoulders slumped. “Did Trudie get their license plate number at least?”

  “No, she fell when she was trying to hurry outside. They were gone by the time she made it.”

  She reached him and jogged up the porch steps. “Is she okay?”

  “Bruised and a little spooked but otherwise okay.”

  “Claire saw them, too,” she said. “So now you understand why you can’t stand out in front of my house. It’s like painting a red bull’s-eye on your chest. These people won’t care that you’re a cop. They’d rather kill a cop than anyone else. Except for me—or Virgil, Peyton and Rex.” She brushed past him, fumbling with her keys, and nearly dropped them in her rush to get the door open.

  “And now you know why I was so worried.” He could hear the edge to his own voice. But it was the relief flowing through him, and the way his body reacted whenever she came close, that bothered him.

  “Hang on a sec.” She was so focused on getting inside that she couldn’t concentrate on anything else. Her hands shook as she tried to put the key in the lock, so he insisted on taking over.

  The second the tumbler fell, she pulled him inside with her. Then she locked the door and sagged against it. “Welcome home, huh?” she said with a weak grin.

  He understood so much more about her behavior now, and he had to sympathize. She’d been living in fear all the time. Hiding. Watching. Worrying. Dodging the kind of relationships that might threaten her cover. No wonder she was
so guarded. And yet, even after all that, the people she’d been hoping to escape were coming after her again. That she fully believed she might not survive the next few days was apparent from the pallor of her skin. Just coming home had been a terrifying ordeal, knowing she could be shot walking to her front door.

  But he didn’t want to feel sorry for her or admire her courage or anything else. He wanted to do his job, professionally, unemotionally. That was all. If the way he’d felt since seeing Rex in Vivian’s kitchen had taught him anything, it was that he wasn’t ready to care again. Not that much.

  Although they hadn’t turned on any lights, he could see her in the moonlight streaming through the side windows. “So where have you been?” He’d already asked, but he wanted an answer. “With Claire?”

  She nodded. “I was reluctant to come home. And she was pretty reluctant to let me.”

  “You should’ve stayed at her place.”

  “And have them track me there instead? No.”

  “Does she know what’s going on?”

  “Yes, I told her.”

  “What’d she say?”

  “She couldn’t believe it, but she wasn’t angry, like I expected. She probably would’ve been, except she’d just seen Ink and whoever he’s with.”

  “Where?”

  Vivian seemed so weary. He wished he could do something to bolster her strength, to reassure her that this would end well, but he had no guarantee. “At Mailboxes Plus. They were in a white truck. But you don’t need to rush over there. They’re gone now.”

  “What I need to do is set up some surveillance on this place. But with summer vacations, I’m short-staffed. Tomorrow’s the earliest I’ll be able to pull that together.”

  “I assume we’re okay for tonight, anyway,” she responded. “If they’re still asking around town for me, they don’t know where I live. And that close call at Trudie’s should’ve rattled them a bit, made them less likely to approach people. Most guys would keep their heads down for a while, wouldn’t they?”