My Heart is Home: Hidden Creek Series #2

by Barbara Gee

  Because I wouldn’t see him for two days, I stayed at JP’s place later than usual Friday night, both of us glad to have some alone time after Lily went to bed. I could tell he was tired though, and I didn’t want him to be sleepy on the drive to Garnett. So at eleven o’clock I forced myself up from my comfortable nest in the corner of his couch, away from the warmth of his body.

  “We’ll be back Sunday afternoon or early evening,” he said as we walked to the door, my arms wrapped around his waist, his around my shoulders. “I’m going to see if Ava and Jude can babysit Lily for the evening so I can take you out. Just you and me.” He gave a crooked smile. “Like the old days, remember?”

  I chuckled. “The old days—as in a month ago?”

  His sigh was long and weary. “Is that all the longer it’s been?”

  “Thereabouts.” We stopped at the door and I turned to face him. “I hate that this is so hard on you.”

  He let his head fall back for a moment, his chest rising on a deep breath. “I’m okay. It’s just—there’s not enough time in the day, you know?” He lowered his chin until his gaze locked with mine. “I love Lily, and I want her in my life. I’m glad she exists. But I gotta say, I miss how easy life was before that first phone call from Adalyn. I miss you.”

  “I know,” I said softly. “I miss you too, but it’ll get easier once things are settled. And I’ve told you a million times, I understand and I’m in this right along with you.”

  “I know you are. You’ve been incredible. I just want to make sure you know that while I’m not sorry about Lily, I am sorry for how it’s changed things with you and me.”

  I put my palm up to his jaw. “It might have changed the amount of time we spend together and what we do during that time, but it hasn’t changed how I feel about you.”

  “You’re sure?” he asked, his blue eyes intense, his hands locking onto my waist.

  “Mmm hmm.” I ran my thumb slowly along his cheekbone. “If anything, I love you more. Every day I see firsthand the kind of man you are and I like what I see. I love what I see.” I smiled. “It sounds cheesy, but you’re the whole package, JP, and I feel like the luckiest girl in the world to be with you.”

  He dropped his head until his forehead was pressed against mine. “No, Myla,” he ground out. “I’m the lucky one, and don’t think for a second I don’t know that. I love you, baby. I love you and I need you.”

  “You have me,” I whispered, shoving my hands into his hair and taking a half step closer. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “I know,” he said softly. “That’s what keeps me going.”

  He kissed me then, his lips soft and sweet. So perfect.

  No doubt about it. I was definitely the lucky one.

  ***

  Aunt Donna’s birthday party was a blast. We fed eighteen family members lunch, then set out a huge variety of snacks for the open-house-style party which would stretch through the afternoon. People started arriving almost right away. We’d expected a cycle of coming and going, but all we got was coming. Dozens of church friends and community people filtered in, helping themselves to food and having a grand old time visiting. And no one left. The living room, dining room, and kitchen were all filled with people and there weren’t nearly enough chairs, but Mom and Dad just went with it. As long as people were having fun, they wouldn’t sweat the small stuff.

  I was so happy for Aunt Donna, who absolutely reveled in the attention. She was a feisty, opinionated lady, but she had a big heart and was well-loved by those who knew her best. And she loved every second of her party.

  I got home at nine, exhausted and close to falling asleep on my aching feet. I soaked in a hot bath for half an hour and felt better for it, but I was still in bed by ten. I started to set my alarm for church in the morning, then changed my mind and decided I would skip. I’d been asked about JP and Lily at least a dozen times today at the party—the news that he had a daughter was just now circulating through the community—and quite frankly, I was all peopled out. God would understand me taking a quiet morning for myself.

  I woke to beautiful weather, fifty degrees and sunny, so I decided to go for a run on the paved trail that ran through the woods just beyond my backyard fence. I made it the full three miles I’d planned, but it was more of a struggle than it should have been. It made me look even more forward to spring, when I could get outside to run more often.

  Showered and dressed, I decided to make a trip into town. I was completely out of coffee and almost out of gas, so I figured I might as well take care of both things now in case something came up later.

  At the stop sign at the end of my street I went right while an older model, mud-colored SUV with two people in it made a left-hand turn, passing close by me. I glanced at the driver, because most of the cars going down my street belonged to neighbors and I liked to be friendly and wave when I met them.

  I didn’t recognize this guy so I didn’t wave, but then I second-guessed myself. He’d looked a little familiar. Maybe it was someone I’d seen before who was just driving a different vehicle.

  I filled my tank before going to the coffee shop for a latte to go and a bag of my favorite coffee beans. Driving back down Main Street, I saw the old SUV again. It was a block away and heading out of town.

  Suddenly I remembered exactly where I’d seen the driver before and a painful burst of adrenaline went clear through me. He was the guy Haley had been with at Starbucks! The guy in Ava’s photos. He looked so much different without the ball cap that I hadn’t put it together at first. But it was him, I knew it was him.

  I sped up and went in the same direction he’d taken, looking for the vehicle ahead of me. I didn’t weigh the pros and cons—I really didn’t give it a lot of conscious thought. I just felt like I needed to follow. I drove fast until I saw the SUV again, then I slowed down and settled into a speed that allowed me to stay just close enough to keep it in sight.

  I dug out my phone to call Ava. My plan was to get close enough to see the license plates and then have her use her hacking skills to find out who owned it and if there was any link to Haley.

  The first problem with that plan was that Ava was in church and didn’t answer. The second problem was that I was afraid to get too close because the man had seen me earlier and he might recognize my own white SUV.

  I refused to turn back, however, because these men being on my street in Hidden Creek couldn’t be a coincidence. Haley had to be behind it, but why? I would’ve worried about them doing something to my house, but they hadn’t been there long enough. In the time it took me to get gas and a cup of coffee, they were already leaving town.

  It was possible they were going back to meet with Haley now, and that was enough to keep me in pursuit. Adalyn suspected Haley had moved in with one of her old dealers—maybe it was even one of the men in the SUV. If we could prove that, it might help JP’s case against her. All I had to do was get an address.

  An hour and a half later the SUV was still heading in the direction of Garnett. I tried to call Ava again. When she still didn’t answer I considered calling JP, but I knew he’d tell me to stop following. He’d be more concerned about me having some kind of run-in with the two men than gathering evidence against Haley. Since I wasn’t ready to give up, I didn’t call him.

  My GPS showed we were five miles from the Garnett city limits when the SUV made a left-hand turn. I sped up and took the same turn, catching just a glimpse of its rear end before it was swallowed up by trees. I had to speed up again, and for two miles I drove with my hands locked tight on the wheel, straining to see the other vehicle as we drove along the curvy road, heading up into the mountains. I wished it was a bright color—that muddy brown was so hard to keep an eye on. I was painfully aware that my own white vehicle was much easier to spot. If they were watching for a tail, they’d probably already seen me.

  I barely made it around another curve in time to see the SUV veer off to the right. I approached cautiously, afraid they
’d spotted me and were waiting in the trees for me to make the turn. If they were drug dealers, as I suspected, they were probably armed. Unfortunately, I wasn’t.

  I slowed, every sense on high alert. I was ready to immediately speed off if I spotted their parked vehicle, but there was nothing there. Just a dirt road that disappeared into the woods. It was narrow and rutted, but it was obviously fairly well-used. The forest was thick on both sides, but the road itself was free of weeds and undergrowth. I could see where a tree had recently fallen over it; there were fresh piles of sawdust where the section blocking the road had been removed.

  I crept along, scanning for signs of the SUV hiding in the trees. Then I realized the dirt of the road was soft and damp enough to show tracks, and I could see the fresh tire marks. I let out a relieved breath and my hands relaxed a little bit on the wheel. Thanks to the tracks, I’d be able to tell if the men had pulled off the road.

  I don’t know how far I drove. My GPS didn’t recognize this as a road, and I didn’t have a good signal anyway. My best guess was that I’d gone a couple of miles when the tracks took a sharp left. There was a small clearing to the right of the turn-off, so my plan was to approach the turn slowly, and if I saw the SUV, I could slam my own car into reverse and use the clearing to turn around in, allowing me to flee and build a good head start before they could get their vehicle turned and out of the trees. They knew the road better, but my SUV was smaller and more nimble, and I’d paid extra for a bigger engine. It should match up well with theirs if it came down to speed.

  It was risky, I knew that, but giving up didn’t come naturally to me. And to be honest, the thrill of the chase had grabbed hold of me. I’d come this far, and until I felt that the risks outweighed the benefit of continuing the pursuit, I’d keep going.

  I made the turn and stopped, scanning the area. It was another road in similar condition to the one I’d just turned off of, right down to the telltale tire tracks. I drove forward, always watching the tracks.

  Ten minutes later I’d lost count of how many curves I’d rounded. I’d spotted several small cabins set way back in the trees, and I was convinced this was a hunter’s mecca, with a maze of lanes leading to cabins which probably weren’t used much except in hunting season. Weeds grew thick in the centers of those lanes, and I’d seen a number of fallen trees that had yet to be cleared.

  But the road I was following was still mostly weed and debris free. Wherever we were headed, it wasn’t a place used only for hunting in the fall months, and the well-used road would make it easy to find my way back out.

  As I drove farther up the mountain and the forest got increasingly dense, I seriously considered turning around in the next clearing and heading out of there. Yet I’d come so far and the destination had to be close—it would be a shame to give up now.

  You could always come back later with JP. That thought went through my head more than once, but each time my next thought was just a little farther.

  Twenty minutes after we’d turned off the main road into Garnett, I slowly rounded a curve and saw that the road I was on came to an abrupt end just ahead. There was one final lane leading off of it, and when I looked that direction I could see another cabin through the trees.

  I braked, then crept forward until I had a better view. The mud-brown SUV was parked haphazardly by the front door of the cabin. No other vehicles were in sight.

  I stopped and pondered my next move. I couldn’t drive up any closer. In fact, I was too close as it was. If I could see the cabin, whoever was inside could see me too, if they bothered to look. But now that I was here, I really, really wanted to find out if Haley was inside.

  I put my car in reverse and carefully backed up. I’d passed a lane not long before, a couple tenths of a mile back at most. I hastily formulated a plan to drive down that lane and find the cabin it led to. I could park my car behind it and then hike through the woods to this cabin. It wouldn’t be far.

  What would I do then? I wasn’t totally sure. Haley’s car wasn’t there, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t. If the woods offered enough cover, maybe I could get close enough to the cabin to see what was going on. At the very least, I could get the license plate numbers.

  Thankfully the cabin I wanted to use to hide my vehicle wasn’t far off the road. I parked and got out, stretching the tension from my arms and legs as best I could.

  I actually found myself looking forward to the challenge of setting out on foot, sneaking through the woods and trying not to be seen. It took me back to the SERE training I’d had in the army. SERE stood for survival, evasion, resistance, and escape. During those training exercises there were situations where I’d been dropped in unfamiliar territory and made to find my way out, trying to evade capture by troops pretending to be the enemy. Of course I’d always been captured in the end, because that was part of the training, but I’d been pretty good at evading for longer than expected, and that’s what I intended to do in this situation. I’d scope out the cabin, see and hear what I could, then get out of there before my presence was noticed.

  I opened the back door of my SUV and grabbed the winter coat I always kept there. The sweater I was wearing had been fine for a quick trip to town, but it was much cooler here in the woods. Luckily the coat was black, and I was wearing dark jeans and black, flat-soled boots. The boots had very little tread, which was unfortunate, but at least they were warm.

  I shrugged the coat on and zipped it up, patting the pockets to make sure there were gloves in there if I needed them. I usually kept a bottle or two of water in my car as well, but Lily had drunk those and I hadn’t thought to replace them. I regretted that now. All I had was an empty latte cup and coffee beans.

  I closed the door and went back to the front seat to get my phone. It was fully charged, thanks to being on its charging pad all night, and the battery generally lasted over twenty-four hours as long as I wasn’t using it a whole lot.

  I tapped the screen to wake it up, figuring I should make one more call to Ava and this time leave her a voicemail if she didn’t pick up. But I had no service, not even one bar. I was completely out of touch with the rest of the world, at least for now.

  I turned the phone off to save the battery. I’d check for a signal later—maybe I’d get lucky.

  The last thing I took was the key fob for my car. I pocketed it, then shoved my purse under the passenger seat and locked the doors. Good to go.

  I walked down the lane until I got within sight of the road, then cut through the trees toward the cabin. I went the long way around, giving me a chance to see the cabin from all sides to make sure there were no other vehicles or other surprises hiding around back. There was only the brown SUV and I was able to get close enough to get the plate number while still staying in the cover of the forest. I typed it into my phone and then turned it off again.

  I squatted in the trees where I had a good view of the front of the cabin, trying to absorb all the details.

  It was on the small side, with room for one large bedroom or two small ones. The roof was sloped from back to front, so there could be an attic or loft area in there, too. Two front windows—it was probably a typical cabin layout with the kitchen and living area combined, and a small front porch that was sagging badly at the far corner.

  The exterior was in rough shape, made even more unsightly by the large pile of stuffed-full garbage bags beside the front porch steps. Some of them looked like they’d been there a long time. The natural wooden siding was weathered, the window frames rotted with only a trace of peeling white paint left on them, and the shingled roof sported several large tar patches. There was a chimney of course—a fireplace was mandatory for a hunting cabin—but there was no smoke coming out at the moment. Maybe it wasn’t usable, which would explain the large propane tank leaning against a back corner of the place. That could be for a heater.

  The windows were low enough for me to peer in, if I decided to try that, but they appeared to have a dirty film that might ma
ke it hard to see anything.

  I surveyed the whole place one more time, trying to figure out my next move. This time I looked beyond the cabin itself and noticed a tall pole at the far end of the small overgrown yard, near the tree line. At the top of the pole was a miniature satellite dish.

  I squinted at the dish, my mind racing. Did these guys actually live at this cabin, rather than just using it for the occasional hunting weekend? Why else would there be a need for TV or internet?

  Suddenly I had an idea. I fished my phone from my pocket and turned it on, remembering to mute it before I did anything else. Then I watched the screen hopefully. I was only about thirty feet from the cabin, and if that dish was used for internet, there was a good chance I could pick up the wi-fi signal.

  Yesssssss! I barely held back a victorious fist pump when I got a pop-up asking if I wanted to connect to a wi-fi called Linksys. Better yet, that was a default router name. If the person who set it up hadn’t bothered to change that default, there was a chance they hadn’t done much to secure it either.

  It took exactly two guesses for me to get the password. I tried "password" first, then "123456." Wow, people really did use that! It took a moment to connect, then the wi-fi indicator popped up at the top of my screen.

  Elated, I backed a little farther into the woods and sat down against a wide tree trunk. This connection changed everything. Now I had options.

  I immediately sent a text to Ava. Since we had the same kind of phone, the messaging app worked with either cell or wi-fi.

  Hey, if you see this, text me back right away. It’s important. Don’t call, text.

  I waited, my whole body tense. She would be out of church by now, I just had to hope she’d turned the sound on her phone back on.

  Bubbles popped up, indicating she was writing. I let out a relieved breath. Thank you, God.

  Ava: I’m here. What’s up? You ok?

  Me: I need to talk to you but I don’t want Jude to know what I’m doing. Are you with him?