Witness on the Run

by Susan Cliff

  “It’s not the same.”

  “Why not?”

  “You weren’t trapped at Walt’s Diner. Prudhoe Bay is incredibly isolated. If you want to leave, you’ll have to buy a plane ticket or hitch a ride with a trucker during the ice-road season, which is only a few months a year.”

  “It’s hard to get out, but it’s also hard to get in. Maybe I’ll feel safe there.”

  He made a noncommittal sound. They’d already talked about her beauty causing a stir with the truckers in Coldfoot. It would be the same situation in Prudhoe Bay, only worse. There were almost no other women. There were certainly no young, sexy women. She’d stick out like a sore thumb.

  “What about your family in Montana?”

  She looked away, not answering.

  “I’m sure they’d like to hear from you.”

  “I’m not.”

  He dropped the subject. He hadn’t meant to end the whole conversation, but his comment had that effect. She didn’t speak for several hours. Which was fine, because he needed to concentrate on driving. The second leg of the Dalton was even hairier than the first. Avalanche Alley loomed in the distance. Cam had hit a moose on this precarious stretch last year. He was lucky he hadn’t gone over the edge.

  Most of the morning eked away and the sky brightened. Snow-heavy clouds draped the horizon, promising another blustery winter storm. He hoped for a swift commute and passable weather. The Northern Lights were spectacular in this area, when it was clear.

  His thoughts kept returning to last night’s furtive encounter. Despite the complications, he couldn’t wait to touch her again. He didn’t know if any romance could flourish after they tackled the following difficult topics: Did You Kill Your Husband? and Sorry, I Asked My Brother to Investigate You.

  Cam raked a hand through his hair, uncomfortable. He could always take her to bed first and save the talking for later. That would be shady as hell, and he’d ruin the chance of ever sleeping with her again, but maybe that was a plus. He wasn’t looking for a long-term relationship.

  Cam had gone out of his way to help Tala. He’d rescued her from two attackers. If she wanted to share her body with him, why should he deny her? He’d give her pleasure. She’d be well satisfied. They didn’t have to make any promises. There were too many secrets between them, too many obstacles to overcome. This was a hot affair, doomed to go down in flames. He might as well end it with a bang.

  He didn’t have to interrogate her, or convince her to go to the police. He was tired of doing the right thing. He wasn’t a cop anymore. He wasn’t the strong-but-sensitive husband who went to farmers’ markets and charity fund-raisers. He was a cold, hard Alaskan now. He could engage in a one-night stand and walk away. There was nothing wrong with no-strings sex.

  She glanced his direction as he shifted gears. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Go for it,” he said, pulling his thoughts out of the gutter. They were on an easy stretch of road, with no obstacles in sight.

  “Are you still in touch with your family?”

  “Yes. They’re relentless.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If I don’t call, they badger me. If I don’t visit on holidays, I never hear the end of it.”

  “Who do you call?”

  “My mom and my brother.”

  “What do you talk about?”

  He shrugged, evasive.

  “You’re not much help,” she commented.

  “You want tips from me on how to reconnect with your family?”

  “Do you have some?”

  He sighed, shaking his head. She was barking up the wrong tree. “I don’t get along with them as well as I used to.”

  “What happened?”

  “My brother and I were close, as kids. He was a typical big brother. He was good at everything. Sports, school, making friends, beating me up.”

  “He beat you up?”

  “Sure. That’s how brothers show love.”

  She chuckled at the assertion. “If you say so.”

  “I wanted to be like him. He was driven, competitive. He still is.”

  “Is that bad?”

  “It’s not bad. He’s just sort of...rigid.”

  “He’s rigid?”

  “You think I am?”

  “You’re wound up pretty tight.”

  Cam considered her perspective. “I’m hard on myself. He’s hard on everyone else.”

  “Ah.”

  “It’s because of his divorce,” Cam said. “His wife left him right after mine died. He didn’t see it coming, and he doesn’t like to lose. So he’s been kind of an asshole for a few years, but I think he’s getting better.”

  “Does he look like you?”

  “Like me, but clean-cut.”

  “You’re clean-cut. For an Alaskan.”

  “He wears suits.”

  She curled up in the passenger seat, tucking her knees to her chest. “What about your mom?”

  “What about her?”

  “Is she hard on you?”

  “She has her moments.”

  “Give me an example.”

  “I went home for Thanksgiving a few weeks ago. She invited one of Jenny’s friends over without asking me. It was like a blind date that I didn’t agree to. She wants me to fall in love and get married again.”

  “What a monster.”

  He laughed at her dry response. “You’re mocking me, but her guilt trips are legendary. I’m in the doghouse right now for not playing along with her matchmaking. Apparently, I was supposed to be charming, instead of sullen.”

  “Was she pretty? This friend?”

  “She was okay.”

  “What was wrong with her?”

  “Nothing. She reminded me of Jenny.”

  “Have you been with anyone else?”

  “No.”

  “Not in three years?”

  “I haven’t even looked at other women. Until you.”

  “Why me?”

  He glanced in her direction. She was young and beautiful, but that wasn’t it. There was something else between them, a connection that went beyond physical chemistry. “You pour a great cup of coffee.”

  She rolled her eyes, smiling. “Is that all it takes?”

  He mulled it over, trying to pinpoint the exact moment he became enthralled with her. “I was watching you at Walt’s about a month ago. You were waiting on another trucker. Little guy with red hair. Kind of a jerk.”

  “Albert?”

  Cam didn’t know his name. “He reached for something while you were clearing his table and bumped into your arm. His coffee spilled everywhere. I thought he was going to start yelling. You calmly dropped a towel on the table, didn’t say a word. You just stared at him. He wiped up the mess and apologized to you.”

  “It was his fault.”

  “Yes, it was. But most waitresses would have pretended otherwise.”

  “They get better tips than me.”

  “I like you the way you are.”

  Her lips parted in wonder, as if she was touched by the compliment. He returned his attention to the road, his gut clenched with unease. Yeah, he was in over his head. He needed to pump the brakes on this conversation. He’d just told her how much he liked her. That wasn’t what you said to a woman you couldn’t commit to.

  “There’s a rough section coming up,” he said, avoiding her gaze. “You should get in the back.”

  She took off her seat belt and climbed into the berth to give him space. It didn’t feel like much of a separation. He was still hypersensitive to her presence, aware of her every move. He thought about the unidentified dead body in Willow, frozen in a snowbank. He thought about Jenny, slipping away. The dark discussion he’d been dreading loomed like storm clouds on the horizon. Maybe
Tala would clear her name with the police, and he’d move on with his heart intact.

  Or maybe he was kidding himself, and it was too late for a clean break.

  Chapter 13

  December 13

  69N

  -11 degrees

  Tala curled up on the narrow bed in the berth and tried not to panic.

  She was getting dangerously attached to Cam. A former cop.

  She was falling in love with him, in fact.

  This was a total disaster.

  She wished she could say she didn’t know how it happened, but she did know. He’d rescued her and given her shelter. He’d been a perfect gentleman. He hadn’t expected sexual favors. He’d been reluctant to put his arms around her because he knew it would result in his arousal—but he hadn’t hesitated to hold her hand. The unselfish choices he’d made had set a series of events into motion, from their chaste embrace at the cabin, to his protective actions in the parking lot, to their sizzling encounter in the weight room.

  He’d made her feel valued and respected from the start. He’d seen her as a person, not just a pretty server. He’d noticed something special about her before they even met. He’d admired her as a waitress. How could she resist that?

  He was handsome and thrilling and he said nice things. He could control himself. He was capable of being kind and gentle.

  But...he’d never love her. He was too hung up on his dead wife. He couldn’t erase the woman he’d dedicated his life to and replace her with Tala. He wasn’t ready to let go. It would take time for him to open up his heart again.

  She didn’t have time, unfortunately. She had three madmen chasing after her, threatening to silence her forever.

  She closed her eyes and took deep breaths. She wasn’t thinking straight. She couldn’t trust her emotions right now, with all the stress she was under. Of course she felt attached to Cam, after everything he’d done for her. He was a good man. She was attracted to him. Maybe she’d confused desire and gratitude for deeper feelings.

  The fact that she hadn’t slept much last night didn’t help. She’d convinced herself that Cam was going to leave her behind—or turn her in. He might not be a cop anymore, but he wasn’t a typical trucker. He’d come to Alaska to be alone in his grief, not to settle down in a new place. She didn’t think he’d make roots here. Maybe he’d go back home and work on the farm. Maybe he’d return to the police force. He wouldn’t stay a trucker. He was too physical. He needed to get out and live.

  And she needed a backup plan. She couldn’t count on Cam to keep her safe, or even stick around. He wasn’t ready to make a commitment. He wouldn’t want to get tied down to someone like her. She could travel with him for as long as possible, and be ready to run. Or she could hide out in Prudhoe Bay, and be ready to fight.

  She’d tossed and turned for hours, weighing her options. In the morning, she hadn’t made a decision, but she’d bought herself some insurance. Actually, she’d stolen it. She’d stolen the identification from Lily’s wallet.

  Tala didn’t look like Lily, but they were both dark-haired and the age was close. It would work in a pinch. If employers in Prudhoe Bay were desperate for service staff, they wouldn’t question her ID.

  She felt guilty about the crime she’d committed, which was another reason to cool it with Cam. He wouldn’t approve. She had to stop mooning over him and face reality. They weren’t going to ride off into the sunset and live happily ever after. They were going to spend a couple of nights together at the most. Then he’d move on, with or without her.

  “This is Avalanche Alley,” Cam said over his shoulder.

  She sat upright to watch the road as they started a steep climb. There were snow-laden mountains on one side, sheer cliffs on the other. Now that it was full daylight, she could see every terrifying angle. “What do you do if there’s an avalanche?”

  “Not much you can do if you’re in the direct path. Some trucks get swept off the road. Even if you see it coming, it’s hard to stop in this area.”

  “Great,” she said, swallowing hard.

  “The maintenance crew comes out every week or so to blast the hillside. They create avalanches on purpose. It’s the most dangerous job on the Dalton.”

  She glanced around for a seat belt and didn’t find one. Cam continued driving steadily uphill, around hairpin turns. At one point his tires slipped on the icy surface. He cursed under his breath and made some adjustments to the controls to regain traction. After a long, nerve-racking ascent, they reached a flat stretch of road again.

  “You can come back up front,” he said.

  She returned to her seat and secured the belt. “Are we out of the avalanche zone?”

  “We’re past the worst part. There’s an easy section here, then it gets gnarly again after Nightmare Corner.”

  “Nightmare Corner?”

  “Yeah. That’s not for another hour.”

  She noted that the “easy section” was still flanked by steep cliffs, but the elevation remained steady and the road wasn’t as narrow. There were places to pull over. After they passed an idling rig, Cam picked up his radio receiver. He had a short conversation with the driver that Tala didn’t understand.

  “Is he okay?” she asked.

  “He’s fine. Eating lunch.”

  “Do you ever pull over to eat?”

  “Why, are you hungry?”

  She shook her head. The twists and turns made her queasy.

  “I don’t stop on the Dalton unless I have to, and most other truckers do the same. We’re superstitious.”

  “Of what?”

  “There’s a story about a trucker from the old days who pulled over to take a nap. He froze to death. His engine died and he didn’t wake up. Since then, everyone who stops between Coldfoot and Deadhorse seems to have some kind of trouble. Gears freeze or whatever. They blame it on Gary’s Ghost.”

  “We had a spirit like that in Yellowknife. My father called him Nahani, the Woodsman. He told me not to wander too far, because Nahani was always in the woods, hunting for souls to take to the spirit world.”

  He arched a brow. “I don’t know if Gary hunts souls, so much as causes delays.”

  She laughed. “Your spirits aren’t as strong as ours.”

  “Did you believe in the Woodsman?”

  “Oh, yes. My dad showed me his tracks one day. There was a set of footprints in the snow that suddenly disappeared. He said the Woodsman could leap to the tops of trees, or turn into a wolf or rabbit. I used to look for him, because I wanted to see how he did it.”

  He adjusted his gears and switches to accommodate for the level ground. “You weren’t afraid of him?”

  “I was, but I thought I could run away really fast if I saw him. One day I followed his tracks for several miles before I lost the trail. Then I turned around, and my dad jumped out from behind a tree. I screamed so loud I scared the birds out of the branches.”

  He smiled at her story. “Was he the Woodsman?”

  “Maybe,” she said, smiling back at him. “He was the best hunter and tracker in the area.”

  “Did he hunt alone?”

  “He did. When we needed extra money he led hunting expeditions, but he didn’t enjoy it. He wasn’t into killing animals for sport. And he was a loner, especially after my mother left. He never got over her.”

  Cam grunted his understanding. He could relate to that problem. Tala wondered if her father would have been happier—and lived longer—if he’d found someone new to love. Her chest tightened with sadness at the thought. Spending time with Cam made her realize how important relationships were. What if she couldn’t get over him? She might follow in her father’s footsteps and pine away forever.

  She fell silent, wishing she’d met Cam under better circumstances. She also wished she could smother her feelings for him.

 
“Hang on,” he said, his brow furrowed. “There’s a snowdrift.”

  She grabbed the handle above the passenger window to brace herself. Seconds later they hit a mound of snow in the middle of the road. It was a nasty surprise of a speedbump. Cam took the jolt in stride, as if these hazards were common. He held the wheel steady as they went over two more in rapid succession.

  “Having fun yet?” he asked.

  She released a ragged breath, shaking her head.

  “Yeah, it’s not for everyone.”

  “But you enjoy the danger.”

  “I don’t mind it.”

  “Did you enjoy arresting people?”

  He gave her a sidelong glance. “I was a highway patrol officer, so I didn’t make arrests. I wrote tickets.”

  She went quiet again. The conversation had veered into uneasy territory, and the road was treacherous enough. Another rig appeared about a mile in the distance, barreling toward them. Her heart dropped as she noticed something in its path. It wasn’t a snowdrift, which could be driven over, but a total obstruction.

  Cam swore and reached for his radio as the other driver hit the mini-avalanche. Snow exploded over the rig’s grill and front window. It was too late for the trucker to slow down, and he couldn’t self-correct. Tala let out a terrified scream as the vehicle jackknifed, slid out of control and went plummeting down the cliff.

  Cam shouted into the receiver to report the emergency. He pulled to a stop about a hundred feet from the obstruction. He reached for his parka before he climbed out. “Stay here,” he ordered.

  Tala didn’t stay. She tugged on her own jacket before joining him in the bitter cold. The snow must have tumbled across the road seconds or minutes ago. She studied the mountainside on her right, wondering if another, bigger, avalanche might follow. She hurried to catch up with Cam.

  He was on the opposite side of the road, standing above a sheer drop. He’d grabbed a heavy length of rope from somewhere. She looked down, her stomach roiling. There was a smoking, busted-up rig below. The windows were smashed, the cab filled with snow. It was half-buried, half-dangling, thirty or forty feet from the edge. It didn’t look secure. She could easily imagine the wreck sliding further down the cliff and exploding in flames.