Witness on the Run

by Susan Cliff

  Cam pondered this latest development. There was no mention of a crime committed, by her or anyone else. She didn’t have any family in the area to report her disappearance, and she’d only been gone twenty-four hours.

  And yet, her story had made the morning news.

  What the hell had happened at Walt’s? He got the feeling it was something more serious than a brief sighting of her ex. She’d woken up screaming last night. She’d mentioned a dream about Walt in the dumpster. Dead.

  He glanced toward the restrooms, uneasy. She was taking too long to change clothes. Either she’d ditched him to avoid saying goodbye, or she’d run into some more trouble. The first option was far more likely, and it filled him with dark emotions. He hadn’t been able to say goodbye to Jenny because she’d never woken up. He couldn’t bear to relive the moment his wife had slipped away.

  He had issues with saying goodbye. Major issues.

  Stomach roiling, he rose to his feet. Women who weren’t Tala breezed in and out of the restrooms. Had she walked by him while his eyes were glued to the television screen? No. She couldn’t have left the store, unless there was another way out. He spotted a garden section in the opposite corner.

  Damn it.

  Cam strode past the potted plants and fertilizer. Sure enough, there was an alternate exit at this end. He moved forward and shoved through the doors, searching the dark for a wolf-quick girl in a fur-lined parka.

  There.

  She was in the parking lot—and she wasn’t alone. A man had his hand locked around her upper arm. He appeared to be leading her away by force. She looked over her shoulder at Cam. Their eyes met for a split second. Then the man, who must be her abusive ex, jerked her forward. She stumbled and almost fell.

  Cam’s vision went red. He was already on edge, filled with angry tension. The sight of her being manhandled made him completely snap.

  He rushed toward them, intent on introducing himself with his fists.

  Chapter 7

  Tala had checked her reflection before she went out to meet Cam.

  The form-fitting jeans flattered her figure and the oversize sweatshirt was cozy. Her dark eyes glittered with a mixture of emotions. Fear, excitement, hope. She liked Cam, but she couldn’t accept his offer to stay in the cabin. It wasn’t the right place to lay low. She needed a cheap, anonymous hotel where no one asked questions. Also, her instincts told her to keep moving. She had to run until she felt safe.

  She wanted to be cautious with her heart, as well. She didn’t know Cam well enough to trust him, and what she did know gave her pause. He was still in mourning. He was quiet and reserved. He wanted her physically, but he might change his mind about that. She wouldn’t be surprised if he started to have second thoughts about her as soon as they parted ways. He wasn’t ready to let go of his wife’s memory.

  There was also the small matter of Tala being on the run from the law. Cam wasn’t the kind of man who would disregard her suspicious behavior. He’d continue to ask questions. He’d insist on helping.

  She tugged on her parka, her spirits low. She didn’t want to say goodbye to Cam yet. He made her feel sexy and tingly and warm inside. More importantly, he made her feel safe. Tearing her gaze away from the mirror, she picked up her backpack and left the bathroom. She searched the crowd for Cam and found someone else.

  The police officer from Willow.

  He was in plainclothes, but she recognized his face. He was standing less than twenty feet away, blocking her path to the exit. His mouth stretched into a menacing smile. Pulse racing, she whirled around and headed the opposite direction. She rushed through the garden section, trying not to panic. It was filled with indoor plants and herbs. Alaskans liked to grow stuff, even in the dead of winter.

  She spotted another exit sign in the corner. She started running toward it. She knocked over a garden gnome and kept going. Then she was outside in the cold, dark morning. The parking lot lights beckoned. She didn’t see Cam’s truck, but it didn’t matter. She needed to escape without involving him. She sprinted away from the danger, picking up speed with every stride. Running had always come naturally to her. She’d won several medals for her college cross-country team.

  Unfortunately, she got tripped up before she could reach the road. A man jumped out from behind a parked car and pushed a shopping cart directly into her path. She couldn’t hurtle it, and she was going too fast to stop. She avoided the cart, but collided with the man. They both went sprawling.

  When she tried to scramble away, he grabbed her by the arm. He was skinny, but strong. He rose to his feet and dragged her upright. She recognized him as one of the killers from the diner. With his free hand, he brandished a wicked-looking knife. When he twisted his wrist, the blade glinted in the dark.

  She stopped struggling.

  “Walk,” he ordered.

  She moved forward, swallowing hard. A glance over her shoulder revealed Cam emerging from the garden section. He bolted toward them. She didn’t want him to get hurt, but she needed his help. Her captor pulled her along, wrenching her arm painfully.

  Five.

  She counted down the seconds until Cam struck.

  Four.

  The man at her side continued walking, staring straight ahead.

  Three.

  Cam was almost on them.

  Two.

  She jerked her elbow from the man’s grasp and dove to the ground like a bomb was about to go off. And it kind of did. Cam was the bomb. He exploded with brutal force, punching her captor in the back of the neck. The skinny man staggered forward and dropped his knife, which clattered to the asphalt. He looked stunned, but he didn’t fall down. He turned to fight, raising his fists protectively.

  Cam punched him again, in the jaw, and that was all it took. The man spun around and crumpled to the ground like a leaf. Cam kicked the knife away. He said a few choice words, his mouth twisted with fury.

  Tala stayed down, afraid to move. She thought Cam might continue his attack. He stood over his opponent, as if evaluating his condition. Then he left the guy alone and came to Tala. When he offered her a hand, she took it.

  “Are you all right?”

  She stood, testing the strength of her knees. “Yes.”

  The parking lot wasn’t deserted. There were cars driving past, people coming and going. She glanced around for the police officer, her legs shaky. He wasn’t there, but someone else emerged from the shadows. It was the man who’d leered at her at the diner. His jacket was open. He had a revolver tucked into his waistband.

  Cam used one arm to move Tala into the space behind him.

  “What’s the trouble?” the man asked.

  Tala gripped Cam’s elbow, terrified. Cam didn’t answer. A car passed by in the next lane, its headlights illuminating the scene. The man closed his jacket. He squinted at the curious onlooker in annoyance. Then he nudged his friend with the edge of his boot.

  “Get up.”

  The skinny man rose to his feet slowly. The man with the gun helped him stagger away. He shot Cam a threatening look over his shoulder. Then they both disappeared into the dark recesses of the parking lot. An older-model SUV, maybe a Ford Bronco, took off in the opposite direction. There were other vehicles in motion. It was difficult to tell which one held the men who’d attacked her.

  Cam picked up her backpack. “We have to go back inside to call the police.”

  Fear spiked through her. “No. We can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “There was another man in the store. He’s with them.”

  His eyes narrowed with suspicion. He glanced toward the front entrance. “Okay, we’ll call from my truck.”

  She didn’t argue, because she wanted to get out of sight. They crossed the parking lot in long strides. Cam unlocked the door for her. She climbed in, taking the backpack from his hands. He walked
to the driver’s side and got behind the wheel.

  “Please,” she said. “Let’s just go.”

  A muscle in his jaw flexed. He fired up the engine and left the parking lot. A delayed reaction to the close call struck her. She started shaking uncontrollably. Tears flooded her eyes. She drew her knees to her chest, making a tight ball with her body. She thought about Duane, the last man who’d been violent toward her. He’d said he was going to kill her once. She didn’t know if he meant it, or if he was capable of murder. He seemed pretty tame compared to the men she was currently running from.

  When she lifted her head, they were parked on the side of the street, in front of an auto repair garage. There was a café and a bookstore across the street. Cam turned off the engine and gave her a measured look.

  “I have to call the police,” he said again.

  Fresh tears filled her eyes. She blinked them away. “I won’t talk to them.”

  “That guy pulled a knife on you.”

  “He’ll deny it.”

  “Was that your husband?”

  “No.”

  “Which one was?”

  “None of them.”

  “None of them?”

  “Cam, you shouldn’t get involved. The police won’t help me. If anything, they’ll arrest you for assault.”

  “That’s bullshit.”

  “You struck first.”

  “I had cause!”

  She flinched at his vehemence. She hadn’t meant to put him in danger, but she had. Now he was on the killers’ radar. They knew his truck. They’d seen his face. She shouldn’t have gone shopping with him. She shouldn’t have let him get so close, or shared so much personal information. She grasped the door handle, ready to bolt.

  His gaze searched hers, missing nothing. He didn’t reach for his CB. She didn’t move. It was a standoff. After a long moment, he broke eye contact with her and squinted into the distance. He wasn’t the type of man who casually disregarded the law. She was asking him to go against his natural instincts.

  “I want to help you,” he said. “But you need to tell me the truth.”

  “I wouldn’t lie to you.”

  “Wouldn’t you, Abigail?”

  She drew in a sharp breath. “Where did you hear that?”

  “It was on the news when you were in the bathroom. Missing waitress from Walt’s Diner, Abigail Burgess.”

  “Was there any news about Walt?”

  “No.”

  She twisted her hands in her lap. She hoped Walt was okay. She had to tell Cam her story, or at least part of it. He was already involved, and he needed to know what they were up against. But if she said too much, he’d call the police for sure. “When I first came to Alaska, I didn’t have any ID, and I couldn’t get a job. So I stole one from a lady’s wallet. She was about my age, with dark hair. She was Abigail Burgess. My real name is Tala.”

  “Who were those men?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “They came into the diner yesterday.”

  “Do they work for your husband?”

  She stared out the window, across the dark stockyard. Snow flurries had begun to fall. Cam had unwittingly given her the perfect lie. Of course he thought Duane was behind this. A girl could only have so much unrelated bad luck.

  “How did they find you?”

  “They must have followed us from Willow.”

  “No one followed us from Willow.”

  She moistened her lips, nervous. The killers would have looked for her outside the diner. She’d left the trash gate open and the keys dangling. They knew what she’d seen, and could guess where she’d gone. The truck stop was the only option. Since then she’d been in several public places with Cam. “Maybe someone talked about us on the radio.”

  “You don’t have a cell phone they can track?”

  “I had a cheap one, but I left it in the diner. I left my purse, keys, everything.”

  He fell silent, his expression skeptical.

  “You don’t believe me.”

  “I believe that you have an abusive ex, and that you’re in trouble. I don’t understand why you haven’t gone to the police.”

  “I told you. He is the police.”

  “In Canada. Not here.”

  “I have a criminal record,” she said, with reluctance.

  “For what?”

  “Civil disobedience.”

  He arched a brow. “Civil disobedience? That’s it?”

  She stayed quiet.

  “Do you have priors?”

  “No, but I missed my court date. Now there’s probably a warrant for my arrest.”

  “So you think you’ll be extradited to Canada if you file a police report? You think you’ll go to jail instead of him?”

  “Yes, I do,” she said, frowning at his incredulous tone.

  “That’s crazy.”

  “It’s not crazy, Cam. He’s a white man who works in law enforcement. They’ll believe him over me.”

  He deliberated for a moment, giving her point the weight it deserved. “They won’t believe him over me. I’ll give a statement about what happened in the parking lot. I’ll make sure you’re protected.”

  Tala was touched by the offer, but she couldn’t accept. She didn’t trust the police in Alaska or anywhere else. Even before she met Duane, she’d been wary of law enforcement. Her people had a history of being targeted unfairly in Yellowknife. She’d learned to avoid men in uniform at a young age. She didn’t know why she’d ever trusted Duane. She’d been lost and alone, after the deaths of her father and grandmother. She’d been flattered by the attention. She’d made a mistake.

  She hoped she wasn’t making another one with Cam. He seemed like an honorable man. He’d been kind to her, and he’d come to her rescue without hesitation. She shivered at the memory of his brutal use of force in the parking lot. He could certainly handle himself in a fight. But did he have a dark side, like Duane?

  “I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head. “I have to take care of this on my own.”

  He massaged his right hand, contemplative. His knuckles were scraped and swollen.

  “You need ice.”

  “I’m fine. I’ll put some snow on it in a minute.”

  She felt guilty for dragging him into this mess. He’d gotten hurt because of her. He could have been shot. Those men were clearly willing to kill again. They’d come all the way to Fairbanks to eliminate her as a witness.

  “You can’t stay here,” Cam said.

  She murmured an agreement.

  “Where will you go?”

  “I’ve thought about heading to Montana. I have family there.”

  “You’ll be safe with them?”

  “I think so,” she said. Her mother and two half-brothers lived on reserve land, with her stepfather. The tribal police would protect her. She doubted the killers would be able to track her that far. They didn’t even know her real name.

  “How will you get there?”

  “I’ll hitchhike.”

  His jaw clenched with displeasure. “That’s a stupid idea.”

  “Do you have a better one?”

  “Yeah, but you shot it down.”

  “I could go with you.”

  “On the Dalton?”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s too dangerous.”

  “And staying here isn’t?”

  “The weather is extreme. The roads are treacherous. There are constant storms, avalanches and snow drifts. It’s white-knuckle all the way. If you break down or crash, you can freeze before help arrives.”

  “I’m from the Northwest Territories, Cam. Cold doesn’t scare me.”

  “Cold is an understatement.”

  “I understand that, and I can handle it. My people have been thrivi
ng in polar climates for thousands of years.”

  “Not in eighteen-wheelers, they haven’t.”

  “They lived in sod houses with no heat. Your truck is a four-star hotel compared to those lodgings.”

  “Did you live in a sod house?”

  “No, I grew up in a two-bedroom trailer. But I’ve camped in the snow before. My dad was an outdoor expert. He taught me all sorts of winter survival skills. I can handle rough weather.”

  He raked a hand through his hair, sighing. She could sense his capitulation. He didn’t want to leave her behind, alone and unprotected. And maybe he wanted someone in his bed, to help him forget about his wife. His eyes traveled down the length of her body. “I can’t afford to get distracted on the road.”

  “I won’t be a distraction.”

  “Right,” he scoffed, his gaze searing.

  “I’ll ride in the back. I won’t make a sound.”

  “And when we return? Then what?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I can’t take you to Montana.”

  “I didn’t ask you to.”

  “I’m contracted to work exclusively on the Dalton for the next few months. I’ll be hauling loads to Deadhorse and back.”

  “I’ll figure something out,” she said, more confident now.

  He tightened his grip on the wheel. “Okay,” he said, letting out a huff of breath. “You can come with me on one trip. You’ll have to stay out of sight as much as possible. We’ll spend the night at the basecamp in Coldfoot. It’s rustic.”

  “I like rustic.”

  “There are separate bunks for men and women. We won’t be together.”

  She nodded her understanding.

  He turned on the ignition, his jaw clenched. He seemed irritated about the arrangement. He was bringing her along and not getting anything he wanted out of the bargain. She didn’t promise to make it up to him. The tension between them was already high. There was no reason to fan the flames of their attraction.

  “I have to get my truck worked on,” he said, digging into his pocket for a few dollars. “Buy yourself a cup of coffee while you’re waiting. I’ll keep an eye out for trouble.”