by Sheri Landry
As I wait, I realize I’m silently hoping he tells us he’s been made and we need to do an immediate extraction. My impatience rings into my ears. The sooner we have this done, the sooner Dana will be reunited with Jessa and we’ll all be out of danger.
“All clear. I’m good. Nothing out of the ordinary. Almost the same customers as yesterday. This town is predictable. Makes things easy.” His words shouldn’t frustrate me as much as they do. The guys in the room go back to their tasks.
“Thanks. Stay on the building. We’re going to take the other truck and check out our lead soon, so stand by. Logan is staying back to finish the setup. He’ll call if he needs you back. And, Charlie? There are a total of four contractors who’ve taken the hit, so watch your back.”
“Will do. Out.” Charlie’s end abruptly cuts off with a crackle, and I turn to face the guys.
Jack and Logan are busy unloading equipment and supplies. They already heard our conversation, so there’s no point in an update. An awkward few minutes pass as everyone processes the new information on their own before Logan stops fiddling with some wires and catches our attention.
“So it’s four then.” I halt unpacking as he speaks, and Jack stops putting our rations away in the open kitchen. “I don’t like the odds this new information brings.”
“Should we call in additional backup?” I have one hand on my phone, ready to dial Link.
“The thought crossed my mind, but I’m not sure more manpower will benefit us here. This is a small town. Right now, we’re a group of buddies on a hunting trip. More bodies makes us look like—well, people who are up to no good and need backup. If we were obvious, someone would have already come snooping and the alarms we set up on the property would be going off. I’m also concerned with appearances back on base. Calling for more bodies may alert Penny.” Logan lets the threat of Jessa linger. One by one, we drop our tasks and gather around the antique wooden table in the middle of the room.
“I’ll get Link to profile the contract and match it with a list of who’s most likely to pick up a hit like this. Innocent woman, above-average price tag. Many of these contract killers have their own codes, so he should be able to eliminate some of them. I’ll ask him to email the most likely candidates, along with photos, if possible, so we have something to work with,” Jack offers.
“Have him send the photos to everyone’s phone as soon as he has the list.” Logan follows up on Jack’s thought. “You know the drill with this lead. We have visual confirmation Dana is here; this Stan Teckler is connected to her. We go in easy. Find out if anyone else has asked about her and try to get a description. We need to know if they have her new identity before we extract her, or we’re all sitting ducks.”
I confirm his words with a nod of my own as Grey joins us from outside.
“I unloaded the last of the supplies. The truck is ready to go, boss.” He stands in the door, letting a warm summer breeze in.
The air up here reminds me of the compound: fresh and removed from the diluted air of the city. I love places like this, but right now I’d prefer to have this mission over and done with.
“Give me a few minutes to get my things.” I stand from the table and the men disperse, returning to their tasks as I continue, “Jack, outside in five?”
Grabbing the last of our food, he nods and walks to the fridge. I turn and nod to Grey, who steps back onto the porch before closing the door on my fresh mountain air.
I reach into my duffel bag, pull out my gun and holster, and secure them under my jacket. Just because we’re going in easy doesn’t mean we’re going in unprepared.
I close the distance to the front door with an eye on Jack. The guy is deep in thought; the look on his face is a complex one. This is stressing him out almost as much as it is me. He’s had to keep information from Jessa, and I know the decision to not inform her has been eating away at him, even though it is for her own safety. I can’t fathom the shit show that would hit this sleepy little town if word got out she was still alive.
For now, we all keep our secrets. We find out if Dana’s identity has been exposed, then we move on to our extraction.
4
Dana
“Want me to take out the garbage?” I’m deep in thought, and Tyler has somehow made it across the coffee shop without me noticing. It’s a good thing I’m not on the run anymore. My stealthy skills are lacking.
“Thank you, Tyler. Is it already that time?” I glance at the clock on the wall, then I answer myself. “Wow, only half an hour left. Okay. After you’re done, can you check on Kaley and tell her to take off early, too? I’ll pay you both for your full shifts. I’m good to close up. I’m going to run some leftovers out to the people who are renting the Miller cabin. Let them know there’s a coffee shop in town. Can I borrow your car? I rode my bike into town this morning.” I close my book, grab a cloth, and slide out from behind the counter to start wiping down tables.
“Sure, I’ll catch a ride home with Kaley. It’s parked out back. I’ll get it tomorrow.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out his keys and slides them across the table, then heads into the back to close up the kitchen.
Like every other day, closing doesn’t take long. We never have a last-minute surge of customers like I’d expect from the larger cities. Our lunch-hour rush once consisted of seven people in the shop at the same time. Mostly we do lunch runs for a couple of businesses nearby, and Dale’s bar hires us for some of their special event nights.
Most of our afternoons are spent baking, or slowly preparing to close up. It doesn’t bother me much. This company can afford to lose some money each month. It gives me something to do, and it helps a couple of these kids with a job, which are hard to come by in areas like this.
“We’re all done. You okay here?” Tyler asks as he and Kaley walk to the front door with their jackets on.
“I’m good. I’ll be back in town in an hour if you need your car tonight. Just let yourself in, and I’ll put the keys in the same spot. Don’t forget to lock up if you come back.” I wave, and they echo their goodbyes as the bell above the door jingles on their exit.
I lock the door behind them, then turn off the open sign in the front window. On my way to the back, I grab my bag and jacket. Picking up the basket of brownies and muffins, I decide to let myself out the back door since the car is in the alley behind the shop.
The drive to the Millers’ cabin is a scenic one, passing a hiking trail and falls. The sun is still fairly high in the sky at 5:00 p.m., and I get to drive past my favorite area up here. I roll the windows down on Tyler’s rickety old Jeep to hear the water rushing in the distance.
Rounding the bend, I pass a small rest area I’ve cycled to before. I ride my bike out and hike this trail every couple of weeks. While the waterfall can’t be seen from the road, I hear the whoosh of the water as I pass by. I probably would have biked out here tonight, except the steep declines on the road after this point are too strenuous to cycle up on my way back.
Life is so different than it was a year ago. Learning to slow down to fit in with the people around me was the hardest part. Jessa and I were always looking over our shoulders. There was always something going on.
Now I’m in a town where time shuffles lazily down the street at a slower pace than the tumbleweeds. Trying to keep my mind busy while looking like I have nowhere to be is a challenge, and this little hiking trail is one of the places I go to escape. At first, I walked the short mile to the falls. Then I worked up to walking half of the ten-mile trail to the second set of falls. Then I walked the whole trail. Now I’m up to running in and walking out.
Nothing is happening in or near town tonight. The middle of the week is the quietest. Maybe I’ll talk to Gerri about hosting something at the coffee shop once a month, to get everyone out and to give me something else to do. The kids would be able to pick up some extra money if they want to work it.
My thoughts carry me away, and I almost miss the dirt road leading to the
cabin. A few bumps along the overgrown path and I’m at the end of the driveway. It looks as though the group is gone. There are no vehicles like Gerri said there were earlier. On the off chance they are out, I park the car off to the side of the road, leaving the driveway open. I have a card in the basket with a map to our shop, and I plan to hang the basket on the door handle.
Walking down the driveway to the cabin, I almost clear the trees when I notice someone around the side of the house. A man moves in the distance; his dirty blond hair catches my eye and a familiarity creeps in, chilling my bones and stopping me dead in my tracks.
A little voice in my head starts to jabber at me to turn and leave, but my feet won’t budge as the person rounds the side of the house carrying a box.
Logan.
He hasn’t looked up yet, and I’m terrified to move.
All my options race through my head as I stand here silently, hoping he walks into the cabin without looking my way.
There is no reason for him to be here—no reason but one: me.
As he turns to walk up the stairs, I don’t wait another moment. Shutting everything out, I instinctively start planning my steps. Spinning on my heels, I drop the basket and sprint toward Tyler’s Jeep. I hear the creak of the front door followed by a faint alarm ringing, and I look over my shoulder to watch Logan turn just in time to see me hit the front of the Jeep.
Bolting off the stairs, he runs up the drive at top speed, closing in on me as I get the keys into the ignition and the vehicle coughs to life.
“Dana, stop—” My real name fills my head, drowning out the rest of his words, and my heartbeat pounds in my ears, deafening the world around me.
That’s it. My name. My real name. This is really happening.
What’s my next step?
As I hit the gas, rocks spray the trees behind me, and I turn the wheel hard to make it back onto the dirt road as I glance into the rearview mirror. Logan comes to a stop, standing in the middle of the road before he turns back to the cabin.
Of all people to come face-to-face with, he is the worst. Memories of the morning I ran from the compound return, and my previous life breaks through the floodgates into my present. I grip the steering wheel harder to stop my arms from shaking.
I am thankful for small mercies. If it had been Michael standing there instead of Logan, I don’t know if I’d have had enough wits about me to have gotten away.
The Jeep hits the main road into town, and I have only one stop to make before I disappear. I’ve hidden everything at the coffee shop. I’ll get in, grab my stuff, and be out of town before the sun goes down. Once I’m safely away, I’ll send Tyler some money for a new car.
The Jeep screeches to a stop in front of the shop. My knuckles ache when I pry my fingers from the wheel. I can’t let my fear cause any mistakes, and I take a deep, steadying breath as I near the front of my shop.
Before I unlock the front door, a voice behind me catches me off guard. I spin around in a jump to see Kaley leaning out of the driver’s side window of her car.
“Everything okay, Kim?” My fake name feels so foreign to me now. Dana is on the run, but it is Kim who is letting this town down.
“Yeah, Kaley. I’m fine,” I stutter as I glance up and down the empty street, trying to catch my breath before I turn back and fumble with my keys.
From behind me, I hear the engine shut off and a car door open. My panic sinks into my stomach.
“Are you sure? Something looks wrong. Do you need help?” Kaley’s kindness is going to get her killed, just like…Jessa.
The thought makes me ill, and I turn back to face her. I know I don’t look okay. I don’t have time to look okay.
Meeting her in the street, I put both hands on her shoulders to stop her mid-step and spin her back to face her car. As I walk behind her, my entire body shakes and my hands become sweaty.
“Kaley. Don’t ask me any questions. You need to get out of here now. Please, Kaley. Just go. You can’t be here. I can’t tell you why. Just leave right now, and don’t come back here tonight. GO!” I open her door and physically sit her in her car, shutting the door behind her. Her face pales as she starts the engine. I must look terrified.
“Yeah—sure—okay.” Drawing out her last word, her answer is hesitant, and I point up the road to send her away. As I back up, the little car drives off down a side street and I turn back to the shop and unlock the front door. The bell echoes its jingle into the deserted street.
Without stopping to check anything, I race to the supply room. Hidden away behind six months of stock is my backpack. I created one last go bag like Jessa taught me. I open it to find everything I need to get away; everything except the hard drive with all the extra files I made when I first came here.
As I head to its hiding spot, the bell above the door tolls, and this time my heart drops into the pit of my stomach.
Standing at the entrance to my shop is Michael.
5
Michael
“This looks like the place, boss.” Grey slows the truck as we roll up in front of an unmarked dirt driveway.
“How can you tell? There’s no numbers,” Jack asks from the passenger seat as I look down the overgrown road, trying to see any buildings on the property.
So far, finding people around here has proven to be more challenging than we anticipated. Directions from the gas station involved taking one dirt road to the next dirt road, and so on.
“Well, we’re on the right street, I think. This is the even side of the road—also speculative. The last entrance was number twelve, and the driveway up there has the number twenty spray-painted on a piece of wood. This is the only driveway in between. Good chance it’s the number sixteen we’re looking for.” Grey shrugs as he stops the vehicle completely, waiting for his orders.
The address listed on Teckler’s credit card is a post office box a couple of towns over. Since we don’t want to raise any red flags, Link did a quick hack in to get his physical address.
“Okay then. We go in, but guns stay out of sight. We need confirmation this is Stan. Grey, stay in the car, but watch for our signs.” Grey nods at his orders before backing the car up enough to turn onto the path.
Jack looks back at me. “You good, Grizz?”
“I’m good. You take the lead with him.” Jack nods at my request. I do better when I observe anyway.
It’s so quiet out here, I hear a branch snap under the tire before we come to a stop in front of an old wood cabin. Not that I would know if there was, but nothing looks out of the ordinary. Judging by the lack of wires going into this old cabin, I’ll guess Stan lives off the grid like most of the other people in the area. A rusted truck is parked in front of a shed around the side, and the doors to the garage are wide open.
The creak of the front steps announces our arrival. My attention gets caught on a rusted wind chime hanging from the porch by its last thread as Jack raises his hand to knock. The door gives way, groaning open on its hinges.
Jack carefully reaches around his body, places his hand over his sidearm, and looks back to Grey, giving him the signal to stay alert. The hairs at the back of my neck rise in warning. Meeting my gaze, Jack nods to make sure we’re both on the same page before pushing open the door with his free hand.
“Hello? Anyone home?” Jack calls into the room as he takes a few steps in. I enter on his six. The floorboards grind under our weight, welcoming us into the cabin. “Took a wrong turn. We’re looking for directions. Front door was open. Is anyone here?” Jack’s questions go unanswered. It’s silent.
The main cabin is a fireplace, sitting area, and kitchen all in one large room. The couch is at an odd angle, and there’s a pillow on the floor. The smoky smell of an old fire fills my nostrils, and I move to the kitchen area. A used plate, its contents now dried to the surface, sits on the tabletop, and I lift a mug to my nose. Cold coffee. Judging by the small piece of toast and the open egg carton sitting beside the stove, my guess is it was brea
kfast, and either our guy left in a hurry, or he’s a slob, or—
“Body in the bedroom.” Jack’s announcement jerks me out of listing the possibilities in my head, and I pull my piece out as I walk across the open area into the bedroom.
Slumped against the wall with a bullet hole in the middle of his forehead is Stan. I’d place him at about mid-forties, and he matches the picture we got from the DMV. Blood spatter coats the wall behind him at the height he would have stood at.
“Time of death?”
Jack checks the body to answer my question. “I’d say it was earlier today. About six to eight hours ago. Rigor isn’t done setting in yet.”
“Makes sense. His breakfast plates were never cleared away. Do you think he gave Dana up?” I use her real name in case any ears are listening in. It’s no secret we are all looking for Dana. It might still be a secret we’ve found Kim.
Jack remains crouched near the corpse but leans back on his heels before twisting to get a look at the room. “I don’t think there was time. By the looks of the other room, my guess is there was a struggle, and Stan here made a run for his rifle stored on that rack.” He points to the empty wooden holder on the wall, and I look down to the hunting rifle lying on the floor beside the bed, just out of his reach. “Intruder fires…and here we are.” He pauses, taking one more look over the body, then continues, “There’s nothing here for us. Everything points to a pro, and they don’t squat where they kill. They’ll be long gone. We’ll sweep the area and get back to Logan. My instincts are to grab Dana and do an emergency extraction. We may have a short window before someone unknowingly IDs her to one of these contract killers. There are three towns within decent range of this cabin. Hopefully they went in the wrong direction.”
My heart tightens. Securing Dana would lighten a lot of the stress we are under, and I’d be lying to myself if I didn’t admit I’ve waited for the chance to explain myself and my actions to her.
