Who was she kidding? She couldn’t stay here. Her mother’s spirit would haunt her wherever she went, but here it was overpowering, the walls closing in on her, the air thick with regret and sorrow. For nearly five years, she’d longed for the day when she’d walk out the door and never come back again. Now she was going to do it, but instead of being happy, the grief was tearing her heart in two. Her mom’s keys hung on a hook near the back door. Was it her car now? She stood, pushing the chair back. She should go, if only because the police had no idea who had broken in and brutally attacked her mom. That meant they had no idea if it was a once-off; a crime fueled by a junkie, high on coke, or a random rampage. Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe they were coming back.
Sienna moved quickly up the stairs, back to her room. She pulled out a small suitcase and threw in whatever would fit. She grabbed a box out of the top of her closest and filled it with the parts of her life she wanted to remember, the items she couldn’t bear to part with. If she was taking the car, there would be room for a few extras. She zipped the suitcase shut and hefted it to her door, stopping short. This was hopeless. She had a whole twenty dollars in her purse, and not much more in the bank. Her mom had given her money when she’d asked, but had drawn the line on Sienna ever getting a job. She bit down on her bottom lip, wincing when the pain finally registered. The safe. She was going to have to go back into the room.
She opened the door to her mom’s room, refusing to look around as she walked swiftly to the bedside drawer. There was a small safe there where her mom kept jewelry and a bit of cash. The thought of selling any of her mother’s pieces made her shoulders shake, but what choice did she have? She had no other relatives. It had always been just her and her mom, and she sure as shit wasn’t asking Tony for anything. That left no one else. They’d moved so much and, until she started pushing back, her mom had kept Sienna home. She didn’t have any friends that she could count on. Not with this.
She slipped the portable safe out of the drawer and grabbed her mom’s key ring, trying each until one finally slipped into the lock and turned. Inside, along with the bag of jewelry, was a wad of cash. It didn’t look to be much more than a thousand, but it would be enough for gas and a crappy motel room. Eventually, she’d have to look for work. But for that she’d need her I.D. She had her driver’s license, but what about her social security card? Her mom had held on to that. Did she even have a passport? Sienna had no idea.
She pawed through the rest of the safe. Nothing. Next to where she was sitting, the corner of a box peeked out from under the bed. Sienna took a deep breath. She could do this. She had to. She pulled out a box and opened it, pushing past the photo albums. She doubted she’d ever be ready to open those again. She quickly reached the bottom of the box, and so pulled out another and tried again. This one was filled with magazine clippings, recipes, and craft articles, along with some old newspaper stories. Another held fabric scraps and some of her baby clothes and toys, but no other papers. Pushing it aside, she stood. Maybe the closet? She walked over and into the walk-in closet, refusing to take a deep breath. Her mother’s scent would be everywhere in here. She dug through baskets of shoes, socks, and underwear, and pushed aside blouses and pants hung neatly in rows. There was a stack of plastic drawers filled with sewing tools, but nothing else. Was there something behind a shelving unit?
She reached under to check and her fingers brushed against a small gap in the floor. The crawl space. Could there be something in there? She leaned against the shelves and pushed until they moved, squeaking against the wooden floor. Leaning further forward, she pushed again until she maneuvered them through the closet door and out into the main room. Back into the closest she went, got as good a grip as she could on the hidden door’s edge, and pulled. Dust flew in her face and she coughed. It was dark down there, and damp looking, despite the sunshine outside. She reached down and her fingers brushed aside small fluffy pellets. Shit, was that asbestos?
Holding her breath, she stepped gingerly onto the first stair. When it held her weight, she trotted down the ladder and moved a few feet forward. Where was she? She could see the pipes for the kitchen—or was it the bathroom—snaking out ahead of her. She took another step forward, brushing her fingers along the wall. She trailed through the whole area, but there was nothing but old discarded building supplies and the occasional dust bunny. Feeling her way back to the ladder, she pulled herself up and slammed the door. Nothing, and now she needed another shower. She paced back to the bed, rubbing the dust from her arms. Why hadn’t she tried to talk to her mother more? A surge of anger rose through her, mingling with the crushing guilt. Why had her mom left her so totally unprepared? Sienna’s knees wobbled and she sank back onto the bed, gripping the mattress edge and digging her fingers in. What the hell was she going to do? Her fingers sank into the mattress, brushing along the seam.
What the hell? But that’s the middle of the mattress.
Springing up, Sienna pushed the quilt aside as carefully as she could, then the sheets. There! A long slit was cut into the mattress. She reached her hand in, pushing forward through the mattress core and her hand brushed against something. Pulling back, her hand emerged from the fabric and with it came a large manila envelope. She slid it open and poured the contents onto the floor. The first thing on top was her social security card. Sienna slipped it into her pocket, not bothering to read anything on it other than her name. She’d sort that out later. She wanted to find out what else was in here first. The next piece of paper was her mother’s birth certificate. This she looked at closely, as she’d never seen it before. Maybe it might help fill in some of the gaps about where the rest of her family was, if she had any left. Her eyebrows tugged together. What? The paper was in her mom’s things, but her mother’s name was Laura Bradley. Who the hell was Maggie Halstead? She blinked, looking down again. The birth date matched, but the unfamiliar name was still staring back at her.
Dropping it on the floor, she scrambled to pick up the next thing. It was another social security card. This one looked a lot newer than hers, still attached to the paper it had come on. It had Sienna’s name on it, too. She pulled out the other card that was in her pocket. This one was frayed on the edges, worn—and had a different number. The other one she held in her hand looked like it hadn’t been touched since it was issued. What the hell?
She had two social security cards, and her mother—whom she’d found tortured and murdered in their home—was using a fake name. What had Laura, Maggie—whoever the hell she was—been hiding, and had it gotten her killed?
Could it get Sienna killed next?
She grabbed the papers and her luggage and ran out the door.
5
Sienna
Sienna may have led a sheltered life, but it was an honest one. Or, at least she’d thought it was. Her mom had drummed into her that you couldn’t trust people you didn’t know, something that Sienna only paid half attention to. She never thought that it meant that she couldn’t trust her mother. But here she was, holding proof in her hands that her mom wasn’t who she said she was. Was Sienna? Perhaps her entire life had been a lie. The betrayal ripped through her like a knife. Her head was still muddled by grief, and rather than abating any grief she felt, her discovery just added another level of fucked up. In a matter of days, she’d been thrust into a new reality, one where the only things that mattered were her foot on the accelerator and her own survival. She had no idea what was left of her life anymore, but she could make her own reality.
The landscape passed by her window, but she barely noticed. She’d never been so far from home before, and should have been reveling in it, but her attentions were firmly on what the hell was she going to do. Even the spectacular orange sunset, which on any other day would mesmerize her, barely warranted attention. The road lay straight before her, and that was what she needed—a way to get as far away from home as quickly as possible. Her mother’s small Honda rattled as she pressed her foot down further.
&nb
sp; Her thoughts moved just as fast. Had her mother been involved in some kind of underground crime ring? That was always what false papers meant in the movies. What about her father? She’d never known the man, and all her mom had told her was that he was not in the picture. Had he done something to land them all in trouble? Maybe they were in witness protection, or hiding from someone. Was that possible? It would explain Laura’s paranoia, how she’d barely let a young Sienna out of her sight.
If her name even is Laura.
Sienna had no idea which identity was right, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. Perhaps it was better if she just disappeared into the night. If she didn’t know the truth, then she couldn’t do anything about it. Her thoughts drifted back to her father. Maybe the whole mess was simpler than she was imagining. Had her mom simply fallen in love with the wrong man? She thumped the steering wheel in frustration, conflicting emotions tumbling through her mind faster than she could process them. Had her mother been the perpetrator, or a victim? Had she been hiding from the good guys, or the bad? A chill ran through her. If she’d been hiding from something bad, had it found her that night?
She had to know. She’d allow herself a few more days of blissful ignorance, just until she stopped feeling like her mind and heart were splintering apart. Then she’d start with the papers and figure out what she could from there. Sienna gazed out to the highway ahead of her, hardening her resolve. Two days to get over the shock, that’s what she’d allow herself. Then she was going to find out what the fuck was going on. She took in a deep breath and blew it out slowly. With the decision came a modicum of peace. Nothing earth-shattering, but enough, at least, that her heart stopped trying to pound its way out of her chest.
She squinted at the road ahead. The light was growing darker and the whirlwind of the day was starting to catch up with her. She let the gas up a little. Signs ahead pointed to a town named Foremont. Maybe she should stop for awhile, catch her breath? No. She had a lot of road still between her and Vegas, where she could disappear into anonymity, and still at least half a tank of gas left. She blazed past the exit and looked quickly down at her phone to check her navigation app. There was another, larger town a couple of hours away. She’d stop there, get something to eat, and fuel up the car, too. That was all, though. Even if she had to drive for two days straight, she wasn’t stopping until she felt safe. Until then, it was just the road to keep her company, along with the sunset. It filled the entire sky now that she was out of the suburbs, blazing pinks and oranges along the horizon touching the edge of an indigo night creeping along the sky. It was beautiful, in its own way, the colors reflecting off the sunburned cliffs. Her pulse calmed again at the sight and she could feel her worries almost drifting away with the setting sun, a masterpiece of chaotic design and crafted gradients falling across her car’s hood.
The hood that currently had a strand of white smoke furling out from inside it. She looked down at the dash console. The car was overheating.
“Fuck!” She slammed on the brakes and hit her hand on the dash again, harder. Her entire life had been tipped upside down. Couldn’t the car at least behave itself?! She pulled over to the side of the road and climbed out, an unlikely cool breeze raising goose bumps on her arms. She was in the middle of nowhere, the town’s exit long since passed by, with no water and no one to call.
Maybe she could just wait it out until the car cooled down, then drive a little slower? Yeah, that’d work. It wasn’t going to help to panic. She reached into the car and pulled out her Kindle. If she was stuck here for a while, then she’d read. Better than letting her mind fly apart again. It wasn’t until she’d read the same paragraph six times that she gave up on that. Tossing the Kindle on the seat beside her, Sienna turned the key. Nothing. A low groan passed her lips as she clenched her hands.
Calm down.
If she didn’t get herself under control, then she would be likely to end up with a broken car, and that wasn’t going to help her any. What she needed was patience, but that was in short supply ever since she’d fled her home. She looked up. The sky was inky; the sun had disappeared nearly entirely. Maybe the cooling of the air might help the damn car?
And maybe a coyote will come out and find you first. Or a snake.
Sienna couldn’t jump back in the car fast enough. She turned on the emergency lights and put the seat back and her hands behind her head, trying to clear her thoughts again. This time, she lasted a whole five minutes before turning the key again, pressing on the gas so softly her foot barely moved.
Nothing. Fuck.
Just how cold did it get out here after dark? God, she was tired. It would be so nice to just close her eyes and drift into oblivion, but who knew what would happen if she did. Her eyelids drooped.
Must. Stay. Awake.
Something slamming against her window jolted her awake. Shit! Had she fallen asleep? She rubbed at her eyes and craned her neck. An elderly man stood on the road by her car. He wore a greasy blue jumpsuit and his long white beard made him look more like Santa than a mechanic.
Or a garden gnome.
If he was here to rescue her, she wasn’t going to argue with his fashion skills. She rolled down the window. “Uh, hello?”
He stuck his head in the window. “Need any help, miss?”
Sienna smoothed down her hair, hoping she didn’t look as messed up as she felt. Where the hell had he come from without her noticing? “Umm, maybe. You scared the shit out of me.”
The man shrugged. “You’re the one sleeping by the side of the road.” He gestured over his shoulder. “I’m just the guy with the tow truck.” He turned, walking back to the truck. Sienna swallowed hard. Time to grow a pair for the first time that day.
“Please. Don’t leave.” He kept walking and she hopped out of the car. “I’m sorry, I was just scared.”
His eyes softened. “I won’t hurt you, lass. Where are you going?”
“Vegas.”
“Oh, well.” He frowned. “I don’t go that far myself anymore, but I can organize a company for you. It’ll be around twelve hundred dollars to tow your car that far.”
Great. “I don’t have anywhere near that.”
“Sorry to hear that.” He opened the door and climbed back into the truck. Sienna’s head dropped. He was leaving, and she was still stuck here. She started to walk back to her car, then jumped at the sharp sound of his car horn.
“You coming or not?”
“What?”
“I can take you back to town, come get your car in the morning, and drop it at the mechanic’s.” He eyed her. “That is, if you want to.”
She ran over to the passenger side, stepping up on the rail so she could talk through the window. “Really?”
“You think I’d just leave you out here on your own all night? Hop in.”
She jumped into the cabin and looked over at the man. “Thank you.”
He laughed and pulled out onto the highway. “Ain’t no need to thank me. Anyone would have done it. Listen, I’m stopping at the truck stop down here for dinner, then we can continue on to town if you still want to come with me.”
Sienna smiled for the first time that day. “As long as they have water, that’s fine with me.”
“Where you headed?”
“Not sure yet, just not here.”
He chuckled. “Around here’s alright. Good people”—he pulled into a truck stop—“and good food, too.” Sienna’s eyes widened. She was expecting a small country fuel stop. This place was huge. There were enough trucks to fill a stadium and still have some left over, and the restaurant looked like it could feed the entire town at once. It was probably the only rest stop within a hundred miles, somewhere that people passed through just wanting to get to their destination, moving quickly without noticing a thing.
The perfect place to hide.
6
Jace
The sun in Foremont was hotter than Jace had imagined it would be. He’d gotten up before six that m
orning to start setting the fencing around his grazing field. He’d put in ten hours so far and had barely put a dent in the job before it was time to feed the herd and shovel out the barn. It was hard work, but he loved it. That didn’t stop him from being exhausted by the time the sun went down. He glanced up at the sun, which was still hotter than hell. If he was going to get the job done in time, he was going to have to work harder. They couldn’t just sit in the small barn all summer.
When he’d told his parents he was using the money his grandmother had left him to buy a ranch in Nevada, they were furious. They needed him to stay close to home, they’d said, so he could help in the family business. But that wasn’t what he wanted. He took a deep breath, his lungs filling with the clean air. It might be a tough, busy life, but it was his. No one was telling him how to live anymore, and it was wonderful. It had been months since he’d attended a drunken family gathering, and nearly a year since he’d listened to his mother’s attempts to interrogate him about his love life. She meant well, but it still drove him crazy. They had money, and lots of it, but when it came down to it, they were like any other family, including the arguing. Here on the ranch, all he got was peace and quiet, and he loved it. It felt good. The work felt good, too. He was finally doing something for himself, and even if he was only turning a small profit, it may have well been the world.
His stomach grumbled, reminding him that the animals would be hungry, too. He climbed back into his pickup, dusty too from the ranch, and drove back to his house. The cool air hit him in the face as he opened the front door and he closed his eyes, luxuriating in it for just a moment. Kicking off his boots, he walked straight to the kitchen and filled a large cup with ice-cold water. God, he’d needed that. He’d grown up in the heat, but the temperature here added an extra layer some days. It would be worth it though, one day. Maybe he’d even have someone to share it with. He opened a cupboard door and then the refrigerator, grimacing. Maybe someone who could actually cook. A couple of cans of bean soup and one limp lettuce leaf wasn’t going to cut it. Grabbing his hat, he walked back out to his truck. Foremont was a small town, but it was just off the interstate and was home to a large truck stop. He had to drive over to the next town to shop for decent groceries, but the truck stop had good food, much closer. It beat cooking any day. He’d restock his place tomorrow. That day, a meal that someone else cooked was calling his name.
Sienna (Dreamcatchers Romantic Suspense Series Book 5) Page 3
