“That name wasn’t on any reports. The records only said he had two brothers.” He motioned with his head. Time to start back. “Is she in Pittsburgh?”
“No, that pottery city on the river. The one in Ohio.”
“East Liverpool.”
Her mouth curved up in that familiar way he was becoming attached to. “Yeah, that’s it. I think she’s a photographer or something.”
“Ver, I think we got a lead.”
Vera walked alongside him down the hill, every so often her hand brushing his. And Mick said going down the hill was easier? He’d had to catch her arm twice to keep her from tumbling down the hillside like the rocks she’d been kicking up.
“Look, the roof of the cabin,” Mick announced. “Almost there.”
“I don’t see it.” Brush and trees. That was all. She held out her hands, letting the ferns tickle her fingertips.
“Right there.” Mick stopped and shoved his pointer finger in the air. “See that tree? And before you give me that look, I mean the tree that has leaves growing off the bark.”
Vera spotted it and laughed. “It looks like it needs a shave.” Mick could use one, too, though she liked his five-o’clock shadow. Gave him a roguish look.
“Now direct those pretty green eyes to the right of it, and you can see the slate of the roof.”
“Still not spyin’ it.” He was definitely making it up. And did he mention pretty eyes? Probably to boost her morale. The only thing that needed a boost was her aching body. “You should’ve given me that piggyback ride.” Then her legs wouldn’t feel like warm marmalade. “Do you think—”
Mick’s hand covered her mouth, pushing her air back down. He pulled her in close, his lips brushing the spot behind her ear. “Be quiet, Ver. They’re here.”
CHAPTER 22
Vera swallowed a gasp as Mick helped her to the ground, his head turning as if it were on a swivel.
“Keep down.”
“Mick, what are you going to do—”
“You’ve got to be quiet.” He squatted to her level, eyes intense. “Stay here.”
She stared at Mick soft-footing away, her breath turning shallow.
His hand went to his holster, and her heart beat wildly.
She saw nothing out of the ordinary, and that raised more alarm. What exactly had Mick seen? Had he spied the thugs, or only heard something? She pulled her knees to her chest and remained motionless, her thoughts scattered like the heap of dry pine needles she sat on.
The silence chilled her. There was no breeze to make the pines whisper. No songs from any winged creature. It was as if the forest held its breath along with her.
Moments stretched until she didn’t know how long she’d sat alone.
Had they gotten Mick? Or had he gotten them? The questions hollowed her gut, sending a shiver to her toes. She had to find Mick. Maybe it’d be better if they were together.
Pushing herself, she stood, looking in every direction. She padded in the direction of where he’d gone. After about thirty feet of walking, she found him crouched down, peering through the branches of a pine.
A stick snapped beneath her foot, and Mick spun around.
“I told you to stay there.” He must’ve taken in her anguished face, because his hard eyes softened. “It’s dangerous.” The cords of his neck bulged as he stared down the hill. “They’re armed.”
Vera blinked, hoping her dry eyes could interpret what Mick saw. She shifted and spied a silhouette. The blinding sun restricted any clearer inspection, but even from a distance she could discern the man was large. No, enormous. Almost like—
“We need to get out of here.” Mick wrapped his hand around her fingers. “I counted at least two. One is in the house.”
A fiery spasm rushed down her. The hunt was on, and she was the prey. The form extended his arm toward Mick’s car. “What’s he—”
Gunfire pierced the sky. Vera clutched Mick’s chest, his heart thundering against her palm.
“My tires.” A shadow flickered across his face. “Come on.” He tugged her elbow, his olive skin ten shades beyond scarlet.
She struggled to keep pace with him.
The sound of glass shattering sliced in her ears. Those thugs destroyed more than the tires. She glanced over her shoulder, and the sight squeezed the air from her lungs. Angelo!
She gasped and scrambled back. Her foot rolled on a loose rock, and she fell, sending the chunk of stone into the tree’s trunk with a loud smack.
Angelo’s head whipped her direction. The sun bounced off his gun, raised and pointed.
“Stay down!” Mick tackled her, and her chin struck a mossy rock embedded in the ground. He stretched himself completely over her. Two shots followed.
Vera, winded from the weight of Mick’s body, clenched her eyes closed and whispered a prayer.
“Out of the house!” Angelo bellowed. “They’re in the woods.”
“He’s got to reload, Vera. Hurry.” She felt hands on her waist. Mick hoisted her up to standing.
Her balance was off, the taste of earth and blood bitter in her mouth.
“Follow me.” His voice was low and gruff.
She staggered the first few steps but fell in stride. Shouts and curses came from behind, stabbing her ears.
Where were they running? Her legs, already on the verge of cramping, throbbed each time her foot smacked the ground.
“Watch out for mud.” Mick jumped over a sludgy spot. “Can’t leave tracks.”
The ground squished under each step. Hair fell in her eyes. Trying to shake it away only made more curls fall loose. All she needed was to collide into a tree or trip over a rock. She pushed her hand over her forehead to catch all the wisps, smoothing them back in a quick motion.
“It gets steep here.” Mick reached for her. “Hold onto me.”
Her eyes took in the slope, a thirty-foot descent leading to a narrow canyon. Mick hooked his right arm around her, and she slung her hands around his neck. They trudged down, Mick carrying most of her weight.
“When we reach bottom,”—he adjusted his hold on her and pulled in a strained breath—“sprint up the valley, but be sure to run alongside the cliff wall.”
“Up?” Her legs protested with a pulsating ache that spread to her toes.
“The path down meets the road. They’d expect us to do that.” His foot skidded on a rock, but he maintained control. “Up the trail is thick brush to limit visibility. We have a better chance of surviving.” He released her when the ground leveled. “Okay, Vera, we got two minutes, maybe less, before they can see us.” He motioned to the tall overhang, now acting as their earthen buffer. “Make it count.” One side of his mouth hitched up. “Race you to the top?”
With that, she dashed off, trying to convince herself it was just a game, but her mind knew better.
After what felt like miles, they paused for a breather at the top of a ridge.
“My feet are goin’ to fall off.” Vera glanced at Mick, who laced his hands behind his head, extending his torso and getting much-needed air.
Those goons would need to have the noses of bloodhounds to find them. Her hero had navigated them through hills, fields, and one slippery creek, which she had been blessedly carried across. Mick, the Tarzan of the Allegheny Forest. And Vera, the girl who wished she’d consumed something more substantial than donuts for breakfast.
“Thank you for coverin’ me from Angelo’s shots. You would’ve taken a bullet for me.” For her. Was that instinct? Love? Her already tender muscles shivered with the thought.
“I told you, I’d do whatever it takes to keep you safe.” He turned to her, gaze so piercing it made her wonder if she should toss that shield down now or keep struggling to hold it over her heart. “You’re worth it.”
Okay, now the shield had a gaping hole. Just chuck it to the ground, Vera, and be done with it.
“Come on.” He held out his hand and assisted her over the trunk of a fallen tree. “I hate to
bring this up, but that was Angelo with the revolver. Not Kelly.”
“So what are you sayin’?” The same thing that had been spinning in her own mind for the past half hour. Could she have mistaken Angelo’s voice for Carson’s that night at the club?
“Can you think of a reason why Angelo would kill Cavenhalt?”
“Probably the same as everyone else. He hated him.” But that still didn’t mean he’d killed him, right?
With brows drawn together, he glanced over. “Was Cavenhalt that bad of a guy?”
Vera swatted a bug. “Artie was a first-rate creep. He bossed you around with a lazy smirk on his face. He’d cuss ya out, even if it was his fault. And you better keep a close eye on your check because he’d chisel and keep it for himself.”
“Then why did Kelly keep him on staff?”
“Question of the century.” Vera shook her head. “On top of everything, he’d say some of the strangest things.”
“Like what?” He ducked under a low branch and then turned his attention to her.
“The night he died, he barged into my dressin’ room wanting to know about Carson and me, then out of the blue, he said ‘Good thing Betsy got hungry.’”
Mick stopped. “Who’s Betsy? Could that be something for the case?”
“The only Betsy I know is the cleaning lady at my old apartment building. I don’t think Artie was talking about her.”
“Why?”
“She probably never met Artie. And besides that, Betsy left Pittsburgh a while back to live with her family across the state.”
“I’ll still mention it to the captain.”
She shrugged. “Won’t do you any good.” This was getting ridiculous. “Listen, I’m a singer. I rely on my ear. It’s a heightened sense for me.” Yes, the rain had been loud against the roof. Yes, there had been a sizable distance between her and the closed office door. But she could distinguish Carson’s voice out of a million. Couldn’t she? When Angelo had sprayed bullets at her, he’d shot doubt into her judgment. “I need a break.” From walking and thinking.
“Good news for you.” Mick motioned forward with his head, and her spirit lifted.
“It’s the back of Lacey’s garage!” She squealed and quickened her pace. Oh, to see her white-haired friend.
Mick brushed past her, leading the way, gaze sweeping the area, obviously back into danger mode. “We need to leave in ten minutes.”
Vera’s stomach sank.
CHAPTER 23
“What on earth?” Lacey’s forehead rippled like the creek, surprise filling her dull blue eyes.
The strong smell of onions and beef smacked Vera in the face, swirling her stomach.
“Are you okay, Mrs. Chambers? Any strange visitors?” Mick bolted the door and then slipped past her and Lacey, his movements guarded as he searched the house. He pulled down the shades and closed curtains.
“No one.” Her feeble voice held a twinge of alarm as she watched Mick grab Hewitt’s rifle out of the closet. “What’s going on?”
“Let Vera explain. I’m calling the captain.” He glanced over his shoulder at Vera. “Sit down and rest if you can. Like I said, ten minutes. Sooner if we can.”
“Wait, wait, did you walk here? Where’s Mick’s car?” Lacey’s voice was so high it cracked. “What about ten minutes?”
“We’re okay, Lace.” A chair. A stool. Anything. Vera’s legs trembled with exhaustion. “They came and brought their big boy guns.” Vera grimaced. Angelo. She now had a full ten minutes to call him every foul name in her vocabulary. Back-stabber was a good one. What a laugh that the fella who used to protect her was the one who’d taken a shot at her. No, two shots.
“Who came? Is that what Mick’s calling the captain about?” Lacey’s gaze flitted to the kitchen as she wrung her hands on her apron. “Are you sure you’re not hurt? Your face is bleeding. Was there shooting?”
Probably should steer clear of Lacey’s couch. Maybe she could sit on the wooden chair at the kitchen table. A muscle in her leg twitched. If she could get there. “Yeah, they shot at us, but we’re fine.”
“Thank you, Jesus.” Lacey’s eyes watered. “So it was Mr. Kelly?”
“No.” Even now, Vera’s mind couldn’t wrap around it. “It was Angelo. A bouncer from the club.”
“So he was the one. Mr. Kelly might be innocent after all.”
Vera winced. What if she was wrong? What if Carson didn’t have anything to do with Artie’s death? She’d accused him of murder. A million thoughts whirled as a cyclone through her exhausted brain, leaving debris of confusion. “I’m not sure anymore. But Mick’s car—”
“Vera, sugar, would you mind telling me while we clean you up? I can’t stand to see blood on your face.”
“I smacked a rock when Mick shoved me to the ground.” The reminder provoked a burning sensation on her chin.
Lacy gasped. “Oh, poor dear.”
Vera sighed at the sight of the porcelain claw-foot tub. This was one of those fall-asleep-in-the-bathtub kinds of days, but there wasn’t time. She’d have to settle for a face- and handwashing.
Lacey turned the faucet on full hot and pulled a washcloth from the closet, then handed it to Vera. “Now, what about all this? Was there more than just the bouncer? Are you wearing Mick’s clothes?”
Vera sucked on her bottom lip to keep from frowning. Seeing Lacey was supposed to be a comfort, but the questions Lacey hurled raised her blood pressure. “Mick’s car is destroyed. They shot out the tires. Killed the frame.”
“His baby!” Lacey put her hand over her mouth. “Is Mick all right? I hardly saw him.”
“I don’t know.” Vera tested the temperature of the water with her fingers. The warmth stung her skin but felt good. “I’ve never been more exhausted in all my life.” She spoke above the water’s trickle, while scrubbing hard to get the dirt from underneath her fingernails. “I’m not sure where we’re goin’.” Or how they were going. Mick’s car was out of the equation. She flicked the water off her hands into the sink.
Vera glanced at the mirror, the light glinting off her necklace. She ran her thumb over the cross and faced Lacey. “Look. Mick gave this to me for my birthday.” Even creepy Angelo and running for her life over mini-mountains couldn’t spoil the day. She smiled as a sliver of tranquility glided into her soul and landed on a curl of contentment. “I can wear it now. I said yes to Him.”
The hand towel slid out of Lacey’s hand, dropping on Vera’s foot. “Mick asked you to marry him?”
“What? No, no.” Had she given that impression? “Jesus. I said yes to His love for me.”
The woman’s astonished expression bolstered into excitement. “Oh, Vera!” The older woman pulled her into a tight embrace, surprising Vera with the amount of strength in those slender arms. “My heart is turning somersaults.” Lacey pulled away with tear-sheened eyes. “Welcome to the family, love.”
Warmth kindled Vera’s heart. Family. It was nice to belong again.
“I want to hear all about it, darling.” Lacey picked up the hand towel and dabbed the corners of her eyes. “Start with the beginning.”
“It’ll have to wait for another time.” Mick’s voice floated in from the hallway. “We have to leave. Pack up, Mrs. Chambers—you’re coming with us.”
Lacey’s eyes widened and mouth parted simultaneously. “No, honey. I’m not leaving my home.” She took a step back into the hall so she could see Mick.
No way Vera was missing this. She squeezed behind Lacey to get a good view.
Mick’s countenance was serious, and Vera noticed a scrape by his right eye. “Mrs. Chambers, if they could find your brother’s place, they can find this one. I’m not having you in danger.”
“God protects me.” She lightly hit his shoulder with her hand towel. “Besides, Vera is your responsibility, not me.”
“You are the captain’s sister.” Mick draped an arm around her small shoulder. Ah, going for the affectionate approach. Wise move. “Wh
ich makes you my responsibility.”
“No.”
“Yes.” Mick removed his arm only to fold it with the other across his chest. “I’m already uncomfortable with the amount of time we’re wasting here. I have great respect for you, Mrs. Chambers, but if I have to carry you out, I will.”
Vera believed him. Sergeant Mean Eye showed no mercy.
“All right, Mick.” Lacey waved the towel in surrender. “Have it your way.”
“Thank you.”
“Though I am not going with you. Three’s a crowd, if you ask me.”
Mick breathed hard. “Mrs. Chambers, I’ve had a rough day. I’m not—”
“I know, darlin’, my heart hurts about your Lincoln. But I am talking about Doris. I’ll stay with her. She’s been asking me for a visit.”
His brows pulled and then relaxed. “Doris from church?”
“Yes. She’s moved over a couple towns over. Can’t make it to church as often. So last time she invited me to stay with her and—”
“Fine. Stay with Doris, but get moving. Please.” The please was definitely forced, and Mick’s eyes held no apology for interrupting the older woman. “Finish cleaning up, Ver.”
Vera couldn’t allow the uncertainties to linger in her mind any longer. She waved Mick to come closer. His features were controlled, but she could hear his heavy breathing even from several feet away. He nodded and approached her.
Lacey scooted to her bedroom, mumbling something about having to take Mitzi.
“Mick, we don’t have a way to get anywhere if Lacey’s goin’ to her friend’s house.” You’d think the cop would have thought of that first. Yowser. “Your car is—”
The Red Canary Page 18
