A Running Heart

by Kendra Vasquez

  Amanda sped up and merged into the passing lane. They came around a massive SUV. Rebecca gazed out her window, giving her cousin a moment.

  A face fell into view. She gasped. Ryan! Her body tensed and shook. So soon? What would happen when—the driver took on further definition and became a skinny woman with red hair, pulled back tight.

  Rebecca relaxed somewhat. Still, next time he saw her, what would he think of her, feel about her?

  “Dad,” Amanda continued, “did everything he could to protect his daughter see that she was safe, called the whole thing an accident. I never wanted her hurt, or dead. God!” She thumped a hand against the steering wheel. “It’s too late! Maybe it wasn’t me, but Danielle’s not coming back. After all these years, I can never convince myself I didn’t have a hand in it.” She looked to Rebecca. Amanda’s eyes glistened under the light bouncing off the asphalt.

  Rebecca faced forward. “It’s not too late. It’s worth it. We all care about you, Amanda, and are ready to help if you let us.” It wasn’t fair how often she’d been harmed, emotionally, or from being shoved into a trunk. When she was a child, she had little say in the world. But the world could decide your fate without a second thought. Amanda had reacted after being attacked.

  Rebecca shook her head. She could only guess at what her cousin was going through, having arrived late in the game. She also had managed to push out the person who knew Amanda best. Rebecca wouldn’t be alone for long. Ryan would come. Could he find a fix for Amanda? He’d been trying, might have even found Amanda innocent. Rebecca hadn't a clue.

  The two women were heading back to the beginning. Could what they uncover ever be enough to help? If not, that was what Rebecca was there for—Amanda wouldn’t be alone in this and would have a stronger emotional foundation with Rebecca there to share in the experience. It was time her cousin learned what having someone to lean on meant. At the least they’d left Amanda’s attacker behind in Denver.

  ~ ~ ~

  Amanda tried reining in her heart’s accelerated gallop. At a glimpse of Chimney Rock, her breaths shortened. The spire of a hill seen from the highway glinted under a fresh day’s sun. Her blood raced. Even though they had another half hour before they got to Bayfield, she was closer.

  Kenosha Pass was well behind them, where she’d always stopped. Coming that far had been easy, emotional overdrive had pushed her. But during those drives, a tiny voice would ask, and she’d admit. No, she wouldn’t find redemption back in Bayfield. She’d sigh, touch the gas, and ultimately turn the Jeep back around, returning to Denver and the fragmented life she’d pieced together.

  After Chimney Rock, she focused on the pavement. Her eyes cut the route to her destination. She refused any self-doubt or deep recriminations.

  Rebbie had quieted during the last leg. Amanda guessed her cousin wished she hadn’t gotten involved. I have issues, don’t I, cuz?

  Whether or not Amanda found redemption, she’d always needed to return. Her attempt at redemption in Denver hadn’t worked, as the letters had so bluntly indicated. She would not be staying in Bayfield. Where would she go next?

  Speaking of her hometown, it was around the next hill. Her breath grew shallow. A dull hammering started in her head. She drew nearer with every millisecond.

  A glance spared for Rebbie. She stared out the passenger window. Her lap was empty, having stowed those hate-filled letters into her pack about an hour ago.

  Amanda had gotten enough information out of Rebbie. She knew where Danielle’s car had been inspected, and from there, she could discover who was hunting her. He’d probably followed them out of Denver. Where else could she possibly be headed? At least, in a small town, he’d have less hiding places. But why would he go after Amanda? It wasn’t her fault Danielle never returned to his shop to get it fixed. Maybe he was passing blame? She deserved some anyway, most probably.

  Her hands twisted on the wheel. Her foot twitched at the pedal. They reached the bridge over Piedra River. Her heart couldn’t handle the ups and downs. It was possible that innocence, no matter how fragile, could be down this road, or firmly established guilt.

  She took a mental step backward and rewound to last night, to when there was Adam, whose presence had been gentle, not pushing. He was simply there.

  Adam handed her the phone, and she stashed it in her pants pocket before curling into a ball in the upholstered chair. Her head churned. Her eyes searched out every action and thought, everything but the room in which she sat.

  He crouched in front of her. She felt his eyes but focused on the subject of Ryan. She crinkled her brow. Adam had gotten him to leave. He’d be at the apartment, knew the secrets in Bayfield. She didn’t trust him after the photos, after his confession of you didn’t kill her and another person had worked on Danielle’s car. He’d tried to protect her. She had to—her mind slipped. She sighed. It was calling quits.

  “Amanda.” Adam’s voice flowed into her. “Who was he?”

  “A friend,” she whispered, eyes refusing to focus. She kept them pointed at the pepper-speckled tiles on the floor.

  “A friend?” He dragged a chair across the room and sat near her.

  “Yes. And my cousin.” She shivered. She hadn’t thought her body cold until Adam moved closer. His heat brushed the naked skin beneath her short sleeves.

  “That explains everything,” he scoffed. Then he offered a tender smile to reassure her. He studied her face. “What did they do?”

  “Looked out for me, watched my life.” Withheld it.

  He dropped his head and sighed. She stretched out a hand and touched his knee. He lifted his face, met her gaze.

  “I’m sorry, and I—thank you.”

  He nodded, grasped her hand. With her hand still in his, he stood. “Something to drink?”

  She smiled. “Sounds good.”

  Once he stepped out, her head dropped against the back of the chair, eyelids drooped. Her brain wouldn’t respond.

  Questions took half-form. She clenched her eyes shut. The barbecue was tomorrow. She’d have to meet . . . talk—the thoughts slid apart and fell through her weak mental processes. She dropped her shoulders and allowed sleep’s black shadow.

  A ringtone roused her. She scanned the office. Where was Adam? She dug in her pocket, almost lost her blanket. She pulled it back over her curled form and became surrounded by Adam’s scent, cedar and dust. He’d loaned her his jacket. The phone continued its tune. She checked the screen.

  Rebbie?

  Amanda hesitated but finally flipped it open, saying nothing.

  “Amanda?” Rebecca questioned.

  “Yes.”

  She heard a sigh. A fan whirred in the background. “Just you?”

  “Yeah. What about over there?”

  “It’s just me, too. Ryan’s asleep in the other room. How are you holding up?”

  “With a chair.”

  “That sounds like my Amanda,” Rebbie had a smile in her words.

  Amanda rolled her eyes but felt strangely comforted.

  “Well, I . . . heard some things. I need to know what’s true. I won’t let you go at this thing alone, Amanda.”

  What if I want to? “What are you saying?”

  “We have the flu.”

  “We do?” What was her cousin planning? She shifted in her box-style chair.

  “Yes. You and I can’t make it to the barbecue. Come get me and we’ll do what’s needed to get this fixed. You and me.”

  Why you? What’s at stake for you? You don’t even know what you’re getting into, Rebbie. All those thoughts, but Amanda didn’t voice a one.

  “Amanda?”

  “How do we stop Ryan from coming?”

  “That’s your area of expertise. Amanda, Ryan told me everything. I have the papers you dro
pped in the parking lot. You need me.”

  She could do without. If Rebecca came to Bayfield, she’d only get in the way. But how else could she get down there without causing a fuss? Who could she trust? Probably the person who knew her the least. “Now that you mention it, I am feeling a bit flushed.”

  “Great. I gotta go. Call me when you’re outside the apartment.”

  “Right.” The call ended, and as if on cue, Adam returned to the office.

  He dropped his smile when he spotted the phone in her hand.

  Amanda shrugged and smiled. “Can’t hole up in here forever.” She rose and handed him his jacket. “Thank you.” Gazing into his warm, chocolate eyes, she wanted to let go.

  He nodded, draped the coat over the chair’s back. “Where are you going? To them? You sure you don’t want me to come with you?”

  Amanda smiled and shook her head. “It’s okay. It’s my cousin, Rebecca. Only Rebecca. I’ll leave you my cell phone number.” She jotted it down on a scrap of paper, placed it in his hand. A thought gave her pause. If things go bad in Bayfield, I won’t be coming back. She pressed her lips to his cheek, breathed in aftershave and wood chips then hurried around him, out the door.

  With the highway rolling beneath her feet, Amanda’s hands twisted on the steering wheel. She shouldn’t have kissed him, strung him along when she had no plans of returning to her life in Denver that consisted of a job where there would only be accusing eyes. Adam deserved someone a lot better than her.

  Two squat, wooden garages, well-weathered, sat to the right of the road. They screamed familiarity. Her breath grew shallow. She leaned over the steering wheel. Her heart hammered against her chest. She pulled her tensed leg off the accelerator and drifted off the highway, letting the Jeep idle.

  Staring through the windshield, she realized Bayfield had moved closer to Denver. New houses polluted an empty field on her left. Five years ago, she would spot those two worn down buildings and knew the next stop would be the gas station.

  She could see the beanstalk-tall sign from here. With these new homes, Bayfield had reached out to her before she was ready.

  Rebbie’s eyes rested on her, but she said nothing.

  Cars flashed by under the morning sun.

  Amanda exhaled a deep breath. “This is it. And I’m going to find something here. Right? And it’ll change everything.” She gave a harsh laugh. “I might as well convince myself I’ve moved on with my life.” She shook her head, cranked the wheel to turn back. Papers ruffled. She glanced at Rebecca. She’d pulled out the photos, the threats.

  Right. Find the man.

  Back in first gear, she merged onto the highway, toward Bayfield. The road hadn’t changed—and maybe she hadn’t either—but, if she refused to act now on the information she had, she’d never stop making U-turns at Kenosha Pass.

  As she neared the gas station, her eyes went from it to the repair shop sharing the same lot. Answers were her destination. She went for the blinker switch on the steering column as her foot moved over to the brake.

  Chapter 14

  Amanda forced her arms to swing, going for relaxed, as she strode to the tall, wooden counter of Bayfield’s Automasters & Collision where a shorter—not more than two inches taller than Amanda—middle-aged man with brown hair buzzed flat against his head, wearing a navy and red polo shirt rested his forearms. Rebecca’s cushioned step was Amanda’s shadow in sound.

  Amanda recognized the man, Phil, as the shop’s foreman and service writer.

  He smiled. “And how are you ladies today?” His eyes came back to Amanda’s face, brows gathered in concentration. “Hey, aren’t you Jim Hudson’s girl?”

  Amanda nodded.

  “Well!” He leaned away from the counter and crossed his arms. “How about that! It’s been years. Wow. I heard you guys moved up to Denver.”

  Amanda glanced at Rebecca, borrowed strength from her cool expression. Hey, they’d gotten this far. There wasn’t much left to do. It was time for answers finally.

  She pulled on her familiar role, felt it cover her like a warm Mechanix glove, protective. She beamed at Phil. “Yeah, that’s right. You remember me! Phil, this is my cousin, Rebecca. I’m going to show her the town. How much has changed since Dad and I left?”

  He shook his head then peered to his left toward the highway and the fields beyond. “It’s about the same. You two won’t have to worry about getting lost.” He grinned.

  Amanda’s heart raced. She gulped and shifted her gaze over the room, finally managing to form the words. “So, does that mean if I wanted to check up on Danielle Caster all I’d have to do is—?”

  Phil’s head whipped back to her.

  Glass clattered beyond the opening to the back shop. A uniformed employee stepped into view with a coffee mug in hand. His droopy eyes, stringy, yellow hair, flat brown gaze, and skinny frame struck a chord with Amanda.

  He leaned against the doorway behind Phil, gazing heavily at Amanda. She returned her eyes to Phil.

  “You never heard?” Phil moved his arms off the counter, braced his hands.

  Amanda crinkled her brow. She tried for a deep breath. “Heard what? She make it to stardom after all?”

  “No,” answered the man behind Phil. “She’s dead.”

  They turned to him. Amanda’s heart jumped. She ignored his accusing glare and found his name tag. Gersham. Germ? What did he have to do with this? Was he trying to intimidate her?

  She gave him a thorough inspection, proving to him—or herself—she wasn’t affected. The vertical lines of his gray uniform top made him look like a bean pole.

  Phil faced Amanda. “She passed on five years ago. It was a car crash.”

  Germ added, “She wrapped herself around a tree.” His eyes narrowed. “I thought you knew about this.”

  Amanda disregarded his eyes. “’Fraid not. Germ, isn’t it? Dad must’ve kept it from me. Hey, maybe that’s why he was in such a rush to get out of here.” Her eyes lost focus. She shook her head. “Dad, why didn’t you tell me?”

  She lifted hurt eyes to Phil and felt the heat from Germ’s scrutiny.

  Phil glanced at Germ. “Anderson’s Toyota needs a second coat. Remember?”

  Germ shrugged. “He’s not picking it up until near closing time.” He stepped forward and pointed his cup at the girls. “This is more important than laying down some wax.”

  Oh yeah? What made him so sure?

  Rebecca stepped out of Amanda’s shadow. “You said it was a car crash? How?”

  Phil nodded. “We’ve always wondered, especially since . . .”

  “Since what?” Amanda tensed.

  Phil opened his mouth, but Germ replied first, “Since she never got her power steering fixed.” Sourness rested in his tone.

  Phil shook his head. “Yeah, that’s about right. We told her she needed to get the pump replaced. We got the part. We just needed her to bring her car back in, but she had a busy schedule.”

  I’ll bet. Lucky she saved enough time to taunt me. But that was over, and Amanda needed serious closure. “You think . . .?” She tried to control the elevation in her voice. Was Ryan right? She really hadn’t killed Danielle?

  “There’s no thinking about it,” Germ fired. “It was like the news said. For some unexplained reason, she lost control of the car.” He took another drink. “Isn’t that simple enough for you? Maybe you were expecting something else.”

  Of course Danielle had lost control of the car, but which part? Amanda concentrated on her racing heartbeat. She took a deep breath. “So the news confirmed it was Danielle’s power steering that caused her death?”

  Germ’s eyes narrowed to accusing slits.

  Phil shrugged. “Well, they didn’t actually say for sure, but—”

  “Why
do you care so much?” asked Germ. “She’s dead either way.”

  “Germ.” Phil dropped a hard look from his dark, nearly black, eyes. “I think you’ve had your say. Take your coffee out back.”

  As Germ exited, he muttered, “Sounds like they’re investigating a murder or something.” With the word murder, his eyes turned icy, focused hard on her. “Five years later?”

  Over Germ’s departing words, Phil asked, “How’s old Jim doing?”

  Jim was doing dandy. It was his daughter who needed fixing. She was so close, but how could she possibly expect to get absolution from these two? Phil believed what the news told him. She continued the chatter until it spread over other topics and divided suspicion. But it hardly seemed necessary with Phil.

  “Right, I think I’ll show Rebecca Dad’s old shop next. It was good talking to you, Phil.”

  He nodded. “Hey, if Jim ever passes through here, tell him to stop in and say ‘Hi.’”

  “Will do. Thanks again.” Only it had hardly seemed worth it.

  “Nice meeting you,” Rebecca added on their way out the door.

  ~ ~ ~

  Germ tilted his head away from the electric buffer he buzzed across a minivan’s fender. His eyes followed the Jeep as it merged onto the highway.

  He squeezed out another thin line of yellow wax and worked it through the scratches.

  Stopping the tool, he grabbed a rag to wipe off the overspray before stuffing it into his back pocket. He hollered back into the office, “Hey, Phil.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I need buffer attachments. Going to Napa. You need anything?”

  “How about a competent employee?”