Witness on the Run

by Susan Cliff

She pressed a kiss to his temple. The swelling had gone down, but it was still tender. “You should be resting.”

  “I am tired,” he admitted.

  “I’ll let you sleep.”

  “Can you book a hotel room? They’re releasing me this afternoon.”

  “Which hotel?”

  “The one across the street. Take my wallet.” He glanced around drowsily and located a large plastic bag in the corner. “Our stuff is in that bag. They brought it from the accident scene. If you need clothes or anything, it’s in there.”

  She sorted through the bag, selecting a few items. She kissed him goodbye once more before she left.

  He was asleep before her footsteps faded down the hall.

  Chapter 21

  Tala zipped up her parka as she exited the hospital.

  It was a brisk winter day, cold and bright. She went snowblind for a few seconds before her eyes adjusted. Then she continued toward the hotel, which was less than a block away. It was nice to stretch her legs and get some air.

  She paid for a room with one of Cam’s credit cards. The first thing she did was strip for a shower. Her clothes smelled like smoke and gasoline. Maybe even burnt flesh. When she closed her eyes, she saw melting corpses. She imagined bits of gore in her hair, even though she’d made a clean kill.

  Shuddering, she soaped and scrubbed until her skin was raw. She climbed out of the stall, feeling better. She found a hairdryer and used it on high heat. Then she got dressed in her wrinkled sweater and jeans. At least she had fresh underwear, and her body was clean. She scanned a laminated list of hotel services, noting that there was a laundry room on the first floor. She could wash their clothes tonight.

  She didn’t want to be away from Cam for too long, so she grabbed her backpack and headed out again. She felt restless and uneasy. She was still in shock from the series of traumatic events. Nothing seemed real to her. Had Cam’s words of love been a sweet fantasy, or a lovely dream? She couldn’t believe he’d offered to come to Canada with her.

  His brother wouldn’t be pleased. Mason clearly disapproved of their whirlwind relationship. Tala couldn’t really blame him. They’d known each other less than a week. Her love for Cam defied explanation.

  Amazingly, he’d said he loved her, too. She’d been so stunned that she hadn’t even told him she returned his feelings! A little part of her, the part that she’d been trying to overcome since she’d escaped Duane, didn’t believe he meant those words. Some things were too good to be true.

  She zipped up her parka, shivering. She couldn’t shake a vague stirring of doom. Her grandmother’s voice echoed in her ears like an omen. She’d often spoken of ill winds and the calm before the storm.

  What if they weren’t out of the woods yet?

  The sun had already dipped low in the sky, and the temperature had dropped to below freezing. She pinpointed several common-sense reasons for her anxiety. She’d spent the night in an interrogation room, after a harrowing near-death experience and several days of stress. She’d witnessed a murder. She’d shot a man, point-blank. No one would feel lighthearted and hopeful after what she’d been through.

  Cam’s brother didn’t inspire any warm fuzzies, either. She hoped he wouldn’t make any more trouble for her. She understood his concerns for Cam. They both needed time to recover. She’d nurse him back to health, and heal herself.

  Deep breaths.

  She put on her hood as she crossed the parking lot. The hairs at the nape of her neck stood on end. She hurried toward the front entrance of the hospital, her heart pounding. As she approached the double doors, they opened unexpectedly.

  Duane was on the other side.

  She froze in her tracks, stunned. This time, he wasn’t a figment of her imagination. He was really there.

  He strode forward, like a hunter with his prey in sights. Instead of calmly walking past him, into a public waiting room, she panicked and stayed outside. Gasping cold air, she retreated. Her first instinct was to cut and run.

  She moved backward slowly, keeping her eyes on him. That was how she ended up in a deserted parking lot with her abusive husband.

  He looked the same, for the most part. Handsome features belied his ugly nature. He was tall and lean, with disheveled blond hair and a short goatee. He wore his favorite hunting jacket, swamp-grass print with a sheepskin lining.

  Something was different about him. Or maybe she was different.

  She could see the physical qualities that had attracted her to him, along with the strength he’d used against her, but he didn’t appear as intimidating as he used to. He looked pale and reedy. Cam was the bigger man in more ways than one, and he exuded confidence. Duane didn’t. He had a scared-rabbit glint in his eyes.

  She realized, with shock, that Duane was afraid of her. He was afraid of getting hurt. The knowledge didn’t make her feel powerful or safe. Cornered animals were the most dangerous. He could still do terrible damage to her.

  Even so, she stopped retreating. It was too late to flee. She could try to escape into the lobby, but he might grab her. She didn’t want to trigger his predator instincts, and she was done running from him. Also, they had important matters to discuss. She might as well stand her ground and get on with it.

  “How did you find me?” she asked, lifting her chin.

  “I saw your picture on the TV. Missing waitress from Willow.”

  “This isn’t Willow.”

  “You were on the news again this morning. Deadly accident near Fairbanks.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest to hide her trembling hands.

  “I drove all night to get here. I thought you were hurt.”

  “I was hurt the last time you saw me. Remember what you did to my face?”

  His mouth thinned with displeasure. He didn’t like being reminded of his abusive ways. “It won’t happen again.”

  “I know. I won’t let it.”

  “You made your point, Tala. I was wrong to do what I did. You ran off to make me sorry. Well, I’m sorry. Are you happy now? Can we go home?”

  She shook her head, incredulous.

  “You got a new man? Is that it?”

  “It’s none of your business.”

  “I knew it,” he said, spitting in the snow. “I knew you couldn’t keep your legs shut.”

  “I’m filing for divorce.”

  “You won’t get a penny.”

  She stifled the urge to laugh. Even if he had money—which he didn’t—she wasn’t interested in it. “I’ll tell you what I want. Listen carefully.”

  “Why should I?”

  “Because I’m pressing charges if you don’t.”

  He made a scoffing sound. “You can’t do that. You’ve got no evidence.” He gestured to her unmarred face.

  “Sure I do,” she said. “I took pictures.”

  His eyes narrowed with suspicion.

  “I’ll show them to the police, and I’ll tell them everything. I’ll tell them what happened at the rally, too.”

  “They won’t believe you.”

  “Yes, they will. It’s the truth.”

  He glanced around the parking lot warily. “What do you want?”

  “I want you to clear my name. Go to Whitehorse and confess to the assault.”

  “I’ll go to jail,” he sputtered.

  “That’s your problem,” she said. “Hire a lawyer and submit a plea bargain, or do whatever you have to. When they drop the charges against me, I’ll file for divorce and walk away. You won’t have to worry about everyone knowing you’re a wife-beater. But you really should get some help with that, Duane. You need it.”

  He stared at her for a long moment, his nostrils flared. “You goddamned bitch,” he said through clenched teeth. “I loved you.”

  She recoiled in fear when he stepped forward. She’d se
en that look before. She’d seen his neck turn red with fury just before he struck. Duane’s switch had flipped. He was beyond caring about making a scene now, beyond listening to reason. The urge to run gripped her again, but she didn’t get the chance. She stumbled over a concrete divider and fell on her behind. Before she could scramble to her feet, Duane advanced. He loomed over her with a raised fist.

  Then a man flew out of nowhere and knocked him on his ass.

  It was Mason Hughes.

  Her unexpected defender hit Duane with a right cross so well placed he spun around in a full circle before he went down. Duane stayed down, seeming stunned by the blow, but Mason wasn’t finished with him yet. He straddled Duane’s waist, lifted him by the collar and punched him again.

  Duane’s head rocked back against the snow-covered asphalt.

  Mason drew back his fist a third time.

  “Stop,” Tala said, grasping his elbow.

  “You want to take a shot?” Mason asked. “I’ll hold him for you.”

  “No, I don’t want to take a shot. I need him conscious.”

  Mason let go of Duane’s collar, with reluctance. Duane gazed up at them blearily. Blood dribbled from his nose and continued down his chin.

  “Remember what I said about confessing?” she asked.

  “I remember.”

  “If you don’t do it, I’ll see you in court.”

  “And I’ll see you in a dark alley,” Mason said.

  Duane grimaced, his teeth stained red. “I hear you. Now get your dog off me.”

  When Tala nodded her permission, Mason allowed Duane to his feet. Duane wiped his nose and spat blood in the snow. Then he started walking across the parking lot in angry strides. He didn’t appear to enjoy being on the receiving end of violence.

  “One more thing,” she called after him.

  “What?”

  “Do you have my purse?”

  He kept walking toward his truck. It was parked at the far edge of the lot, among a cluster of similar trucks and half-covered in new-fallen snow. She figured he’d brought her purse along. They couldn’t cross the border without her ID. Sure enough, he tossed her purse out the window and took off in a squeal of tires.

  She rushed forward to retrieve her purse from the ground. Her wallet was there, with her drivers’ license and tribal card.

  Victory.

  She studied Mason with new eyes. He’d really grown on her in the past few minutes. “Why did you do that?”

  He massaged his knuckles. “Do what? I didn’t do anything.”

  “Thank you, all the same.”

  “It was my pleasure.”

  “I thought you wanted to get rid of me.”

  “Not that way,” he said, watching Duane’s truck until it disappeared. “Does he usually have a gun on him?”

  “He keeps one in his truck.”

  Mason moved his gaze to Tala. Although he didn’t say anything, his expression revealed his concern for Cam’s welfare. This basic human emotion was much more effective than the bribe he’d attempted earlier. He’d asked her not to put Cam in the line of fire. She didn’t think Duane would shoot anyone, but she couldn’t be sure. He was a man scorned, and he wasn’t known for handling rejection well.

  Duane might confess to the assault at the rally. Not because it was the right thing to do, but to avoid the scandal of domestic violence charges. He might sign the divorce papers and let her go without a fight.

  Or he might make her life hell, just because. She removed Cam’s wallet from her pocket and handed it to Mason, feeling glum. Mason accepted the item in silence. They stood side by side in the snowy parking lot.

  “I misjudged you,” Mason said finally.

  She was startled by the admission. Mason seemed even less likely to admit to a mistake than Cam. They were cut from the same stubborn cloth. She had her own stubborn streak, so she could sympathize.

  “Cam says he’s in love with you. I don’t want him to get hurt again.”

  Her knees felt weak, so she sank to a sitting position on the curb.

  “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine. I just need a minute.”

  He stayed right there with her, his arms crossed over his chest. She could tell he was cold. His jacket would suffice in Seattle, but it didn’t have enough insulation for an Alaska winter. Now the adrenaline was wearing off, and he could feel the chill.

  She took pity on him. “I’d rather be alone, if you don’t mind.”

  He nodded curtly and walked away. Anxiety welled up inside her once more. She wanted to be with Cam, but she also needed some time to herself. She needed time to think. Mason had helped her stand up to Duane. He’d asked her to leave Cam alone, and she felt obligated to consider his request.

  So she did. She considered it very carefully.

  It wouldn’t be the end of the world to go to Canada without him. She could give him some space while he recovered from his injuries. She didn’t have to leave forever. Just until the conflict with Duane passed. As much as she appreciated Cam’s support, she could manage without him. She’d been doing it for months. She was an independent woman, capable of handling her own business. If Duane followed her suggestions and cleared her name, she’d come back to Alaska. If he didn’t...perhaps it was best to stay away. Cam had been through enough heartache and struggle. He’d almost died trying to protect her.

  Mason’s concerns weren’t unwarranted.

  She rose to her feet, pulse racing. She understood Mason’s perspective, but she had to consider Cam’s needs, also. He said he loved her. He planned to introduce her to his family. He’d asked her to stay. She’d already told him she would.

  Ultimately, this was her decision. If she wanted to go, she could go. If she wanted to stay, she could stay.

  She studied the looming structure of the hospital, with its glinting windows and geometric shapes. She could walk inside and be with Cam right now, but the prospect of sitting in a quiet room with Mason Hughes didn’t appeal to her. She couldn’t take any more tension or stillness. She wanted space to move around. Physical activity would clear her head. She needed to run for a little while.

  She turned away from the hospital and headed toward freedom.

  Chapter 22

  Cam slept most of the afternoon.

  When he woke up again, it was dark outside. His head felt better. His foot still hurt and his arm was sore, but he could endure the discomfort. He declined a second pain pill in favor of over-the-counter stuff. He wanted to stay awake.

  Mason brought him some flannel pajamas to lounge around in. Cam decided to take a shower before he changed clothes. He smelled like blood and diesel and sweat. It would be easier to bathe here than in a hotel room, so he rose from his hospital bed. There was a safety chair in the shower stall, ready to go. The nurse gave him a plastic baggie to cover his foot. Sitting down to shower felt strange, but it was better than falling on his ass. He washed off, toweled dry and got dressed on his own.

  He couldn’t wait to get discharged. He was looking forward to a night of snuggling with Tala. Maybe more, if he was lucky. When he emerged from the bathroom, Mason was sitting in the corner, reading a newspaper. He didn’t look up.

  “Where’s Tala?” Cam asked.

  Mason rattled his paper. “I don’t know.”

  “Did she come back from the hotel?”

  “She did. Then she left again.”

  Cam figured Tala didn’t want to spend time with his surly brother. Cam didn’t blame her. He pictured her reading one of her graphic novels in the lobby, or grabbing a cup of coffee. The nurse arrived with discharge forms, which he scanned quickly. She told him the doctor would come in to go over patient instructions.

  “Do you want some ice for that hand?” she asked Mason.

  Cam glanced at his brother in surprise
. His knuckles were raw and swollen. “I’m good,” he said, closing the newspaper.

  The nurse said goodbye and exited the room.

  Cam’s gut clenched with unease. “What happened to you?”

  “I ran into Duane Laramie.”

  “Where?”

  “Right here, in front of the hospital. He was arguing with Tala.”

  “How did he find her?”

  “I don’t know,” Mason said. “I didn’t get the chance to interrogate him. I saw her fall down, so I intervened.”

  Cold fury enveloped Cam. “He hit her?”

  “No. I got there first.”

  “Did you straighten him out?”

  “I punched him a few times. I couldn’t knock him out because she wanted to talk to him. She threatened to take him to court if he didn’t confess to assaulting that police officer.”

  Cam rubbed a hand over his mouth, contemplative. It was a better deal than Duane deserved. If he cleared Tala’s name, she wouldn’t press domestic violence charges against him. “Did he agree?”

  “He’d be a fool not to, but he didn’t say yes or no. After I let him up, he threw her purse out of his truck and drove away.”

  “Jesus, Mason. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “You were asleep.”

  Cam grabbed for his crutches. One of them clattered to the floor. “She almost gets attacked by her ex, and you don’t wake me up? You left her alone in the lobby? What the hell is wrong with you?”

  Mason picked up the crutch for Cam. “I don’t think she’s in the lobby.”

  “Where is she?”

  His brother shrugged, avoiding his gaze.

  Cam’s vision went red. He didn’t know what Mason was up to, but he couldn’t stay in the hospital another minute. He was leaving right now to find Tala.

  “Where is she?” he repeated, his voice low.

  “I don’t know,” Mason said. “She never came in from the parking lot.”

  “Did Duane take her?”

  “I’m pretty sure she walked away on her own.”

  “Why would she do that?”

  “I might have said something that upset her.”