Two Reasons to Run

by Colleen Coble

  He awoke with a start and glanced at his watch. Nearly an hour had passed since he’d driven by Hastings’s house, so he went back to his truck and retraced his route. This time there was no vehicle in the drive. He drove on past and parked in a copse of trees where his vehicle was partially hidden, then strode back to the houseboat. He picked the lock and was inside in moments. From a former reconnaissance with binoculars, he knew one of the bedrooms was where most of the equipment was kept, but he made a quick scan of the living room.

  No laptop. He went down the hall and smiled as he scooped up the laptop. For good measure, he grabbed the desktop computer and carried both to his truck before loading up every piece of equipment he could find, just to be sure he could destroy every byte of the footage.

  He turned toward the door and came face-to-face with Hastings, who stood wide-eyed in the doorway.

  Hastings lunged back the way he’d come, and the man dropped the equipment to spring after him. Great timing. He’d be done here once the videographer was dead.

  Hastings darted into his bedroom and slammed the door. A lock clicked into place, and the man cursed. He tried to shoulder open the door, but it held. In a fury he kicked it and nearly toppled to the floor when his foot stuck in the splintered wood.

  He regained his balance and shoved his aching shoulder into the door again. His previous blows had weakened the wood, and it splintered open this time. He rushed into the room and snatched up a heavy lamp.

  Hastings had a gun in his hand, but he was trembling so badly he’d never be able to hit anything. He clicked off the safety. “Stand back!”

  Almost casually, the man threw the lamp in his hand, and it walloped the videographer in the head. He went down without a sound and struck the other side of his head on the corner of the bedside table. Blood began to pool under his head.

  Should he finish him off? The man reached for the lamp again, but he jumped and stepped back when the phone on the table rang. Maybe he should get out of here. No way Hastings would survive the blood loss. He’d get rid of the file, collect his money, and forget about this job.

  He found a cloth in the bathroom and wiped down the lamp and everything else he’d touched as the pool of blood grew around Hastings’s head. When the man was done, he gathered up the equipment he’d dropped, then exited the back door and circled back to his truck. When he returned to his hotel, he’d make sure everything was in order.

  He would be glad to see the back of this job. It had strung along longer than he’d expected, and he was starting to hate this place. And the nagging of his boss.

  * * *

  Had anyone followed them?

  Jane rubbed scratchy eyes as they drove through Pelican Harbor before pulling into her dad’s lane just after four that afternoon. “I don’t know how you managed to drive straight back without sleep. You barely slept the last two nights.”

  She’d found a GPS tracker in the RV’s bedroom and left it with Reid’s grandparents, who promised to overnight it to the police station. She wanted to check it for clues, but she didn’t want their attacker to be able to use it on the way home. It had been a tense thirteen-hour drive back with Jane and the kids checking for pursuit from their tormenter. There had been no further sighting of the guy’s car.

  “You didn’t sleep either.” Reid yawned. “I won’t say no to some eye drops and a nap.” He punched the door opener and pulled the RV into the barn, then closed the door behind them before he unlocked the doors. “Go through the tunnel straight to the bunker, Will.”

  Will rolled his eyes. “This is getting old, you guys.”

  “It can’t be helped. Your mom will do what she can to figure this out, but we want to keep you safe.”

  “I’d be better off dead than penned up,” Will muttered as he exited with his duffel bag on one shoulder and stomped toward the tunnel.

  Megan followed without looking at either of them. Even Parker’s look back seemed reproachful as he followed Will out of the barn. The kids didn’t understand, but Jane didn’t know what else to do.

  She shoved open her door and got out. “You go on inside, and I’ll bring in our stuff.”

  “I’ll grab the two bags if you want to bring in what’s left of the food.”

  She nodded and pulled the plastic sacks of leftover food out of the fridge. The two of them walked toward the passageway to the bunker, then made their way toward the light at the end where Will had left the door standing open.

  “You going to tell your dad about your mom’s death right away?”

  “Yes. Maybe the shock will shake loose some truth about her.”

  But she wasn’t holding her breath. She stopped him before they entered the bunker. “I have something for you.” She pulled out the sketch she’d done of him with his grandparents.

  His gaze lingered on the drawing. “This is special. I can keep it?”

  “If you want.”

  “Thank you, Jane. I love it.” He seemed like he wanted to say more, but her father approached them.

  He pulled the door shut behind them and put the bar across it, then carried the bags away toward the bedrooms. She didn’t know how to tell her dad what she’d found out.

  He took the bag of food. “Well? How’d it go?”

  Was that trepidation in his voice? Charles Hardy was the type of man who never seemed surprised by any events, but today, his eyes held uncertainty. Maybe he didn’t know she was dead. He’d loved her once. Would the news wreck him like it had destroyed Jane?

  She held his gaze. “The leader of Liberty’s Children told me she was dead, Dad. And he seemed to hate her. He said she was in hell. Why would he harbor such anger?”

  His gaze dropped, and he showed no emotion before he turned to go to the kitchen. She followed him and waited for him to respond. Pushing him would make him clam up even more.

  He put away the chips and canned goods before turning to look her in the face. “Your mom was always a strong soul. Maybe they clashed.”

  She studied his face. “You know more than you’re saying. Did you know the leader of Liberty’s Children? Reid called him Gabriel.”

  Her dad shrugged. “Sure. Gabriel’s dad and Moses had so many clashes that he finally moved off with his cohorts. Your mom didn’t like Gabriel’s dad, so I’m not surprised they didn’t get along once she joined up with him. Did Gabriel tell you anything else?”

  “Like what?”

  He shrugged again. “Anything. Like when or how she died.”

  “No details. He threw us off the property, and he had the right because the group owns it. We ran into more trouble.”

  She told him about the shooter who followed them to Kentucky and Indiana. She detected a hint of relief in his eyes that they’d left the subject of her mother behind. Why was he so reluctant to talk about the past? It was killing her.

  When he went to welcome Will home, she started for her bedroom, but when she passed his office, it stood open a crack. It was always locked. Their return must have surprised him.

  He told Will he was going outside to finish planting his garden. He’d be gone awhile, probably at least an hour. Parker must have exited the attic floor with her dad because he came down the hall toward her. Good. She could use the comfort of his presence. Once the creak of the front door opening and closing came, she slipped inside the office door with Parker and locked it behind her.

  Her heart jackhammered in her chest as she approached his desk. Privacy and respect for property had been pounded into her all her life, but she had to find out if he knew more than he was saying. Any information was unlikely to be on his computer. He didn’t trust them much, and anything of importance was always printed out. Besides, her mother’s death was likely to have been years ago, before he did much of anything on a computer.

  The desk drawers weren’t locked. She went through everything and found nothing of interest. The closet held only guns and ammunition. She started to shut the doors until she spied a cardboard file on the
shelf. It was the kind with multiple dividers with a rubber band wound around it. She pulled it down and opened it.

  In the first compartment she pulled out a sheaf of papers. She turned over the first page, and the face of her mother leaped out at her. She stared into her mother’s eyes. She was older, weary. The next page was a report from a private detective. Her legs shook as she carried it back to the desk chair and sat before she fell down.

  The report was dated 2010, and the PI had found her living in Maine. She was married.

  Her mother was alive! Gabriel had lied. But why? The paper shook in her hand as the backside of the news hit her.

  The paper fell from her hands, and she buried her face in her hands. Just as she thought, her dad had known all along where Mom was. And had chosen to keep that information from her.

  Another lie from her father—as big as the first.

  Thirty

  The pain would wreck her.

  Jane sat on a bench in the sunshine with her arms around Parker and closed her eyes, willing the pain to ebb, but it only intensified. She’d come out here to try to wrap her head around what she’d discovered, but the shock and disbelief had come with her. The facade of a capable, in-control chief of police had crumbled at her feet, and she didn’t want Will or Megan to see this poor farce.

  Gradually, she became aware she’d brought the file with her. Dad would know she’d discovered the truth. Not that she planned to hide it from him.

  “Jane?”

  She opened her eyes when Reid called her name and rose to rush for the protection of the trees before he could see her. Too late. His footsteps pounded after her, and her short stride was no match for his long legs.

  He caught her arm. “Jane, what’s happened?”

  Parker whined, and she put her free hand on his head. “I need to be alone, Reid.” Her voice sounded high and strangled to her ears.

  He didn’t let her go but turned her to face him. “Tell me what’s wrong. Did your dad say something?”

  She made a derisive growl but couldn’t meet his gaze. “Talking has never been his problem. He won’t talk—that’s the issue. Instead I have to find out everything important to me either from someone else or accidentally.”

  “He knew your mom was dead?”

  She lifted her gaze to lock with his. “She’s not dead, Reid. She left the compound in 2010 and married. Not only did she not care if I went off with my dad, she was perfectly happy to create a new life and leave me out of it.”

  “No. Not even your dad would keep that from you.”

  “Oh, he did all right. I found this in his office.” She thrust the file into his hand. “He hired a private investigator to find her.”

  She stared at the leaves blowing in the wind while he studied the evidence. What made her think she was any kind of a cop? She’d missed the most important evidence all her life, and it had been right under her nose.

  She sank to her knees and embraced Parker again. You knew where you stood with a dog. You didn’t have to guess because a dog didn’t know subterfuge or deception. Had her father ever really loved her? How could he when he’d lied to her all these years? And not little lies—but huge, life-changing ones.

  Everything in her wanted to get in her SUV and drive away from here until she reached some place far away where she could forget how gullible she’d been. Some place where she didn’t have to wonder who was lying to her.

  Reid settled beside her and tried to pull her into his embrace, but she shook him off. His lie had been just as bad as her father’s. Until today, she’d thought they might have a future. She’d begun to get past the way he’d kept Will’s identity from her, but her father’s second betrayal reminded her that trust was dangerous. That one moment in time could rip away everything she thought she knew.

  “Honey, look at me.”

  She raised her gaze, letting her anger show through her eyes and not caring if he flinched from it. “I’m not your honey.”

  “You’re mad at me again. I swear I didn’t know about this.”

  “No, but you’re part and parcel of the web of lies I’ve been trapped in for my entire life. Every time I think I can break free, the sticky strands wrap me tight again.” Her voice trembled.

  He didn’t make another attempt to embrace her. “Did you talk to your dad?”

  “Not yet. I need to get my feet under me again.”

  “Where does she live now? I just skimmed the documents.”

  “Maine, of all places. I don’t know if she’s still there. At the time of the report she lived up in Sunset Cove.”

  “You thinking of going to see her? I’d go with you.”

  Right now going off with him sounded like the worst thing possible to her. Who did she trust in the world right now? Olivia and Will were about the only ones. Finding out she was wrong about people had undercut her confidence. Her father’s constant lies left her with no foundation for recognizing truth.

  Love wasn’t safe. For a little while she’d allowed herself to dream that maybe real love existed. That maybe Reid was the true love of her life. That maybe they could find their way past all the deceit to create a family that wouldn’t be splintered apart.

  She’d been wrong.

  She rose with her fingers curling around Parker’s collar. “I’d better talk to my dad. I don’t know if I’ll ever speak to him after today. It will be all I can do to look in his face and listen to his excuses.”

  “I’m sorry, Jane. Please, let me be your backup.”

  “The only thing I need from you is to keep the kids occupied so I can talk to him in private.”

  “He’d been in the garden, but I saw him heading into the munitions room a few minutes ago.”

  She nodded and left him in the shady grove.

  His hurt was palpable, but she wasn’t even sure it was real. People feigned emotion all the time. The past few weeks had proven that. Her former deputy Brian’s simmering hatred had been completely hidden from her for years. She would have staked her life on his authenticity and commitment to her, but she’d been wrong once again.

  It would take a lot for her to believe anyone again.

  * * *

  It was all his fault.

  Reid tried to put himself in Jane’s place to understand what she was feeling, but his own hurt kept swamping him with guilt. If he’d handled things differently right from the start, they wouldn’t be here. She would have known she could trust him. Instead, he was tarred with the same brush as her dad.

  He forced himself to rise from the grass and head for the bunker, the incriminating papers still in his hand. Her only request was to occupy the kids, and he could do that much for her.

  Will held up a package of pepperoni when Reid entered the bunker’s kitchen. “Hey, Dad, we’re making pizza. Megan got a text from her mom, and she’s going to pick her up on the way back from the hospital in a couple of hours.”

  “Need some help?”

  “Nah, we’ve got it.” Will shot a besotted glance at Megan.

  Translation: He wanted to be alone with Megan. Reid nodded. “I’m going to get a movie ready to watch over dinner.”

  Unwanted wherever he turned. He could stand guard at least and make sure the kids didn’t go into the munitions room to disturb Jane during the confrontation. This kind of discussion wasn’t anything Will and Megan needed to hear. The boy loved both his grandfather and his mother. Witnessing conflict between them would be upsetting, and Will might try to take sides without knowing the full story.

  Reid put the papers Jane had found on the coffee table, then got out his other computer and checked email. There were a couple of messages from his network about some documentaries he’d proposed. They wanted him to go ahead. Good news because they would keep him from thinking about how his dreams were dissolving like fog.

  The aroma of garlic, tomato sauce, and melting cheese wafted toward him. He was hungrier than he’d realized. They all needed a good meal and some rest. It would
bring perspective and strength to face all of these revelations. His world had been rocked too. Maybe not as much as Jane’s, but he was still reeling from all he’d discovered from his grandparents.

  He checked his phone and found several missed calls. One from his grandmother telling him she loved him and couldn’t wait to see him again. Her gentle voice was balm on his aching heart. He clicked on the voice mail Elliot had left.

  “Hey, man, I was looking at the footage again, and I found something. Call me.”

  Even though Reid would rather wallow in his pain for a while, Elliot’s voice had skirted on the edge of panic or alarm. He clicked the Call Back button, but it went to voice mail after four rings.

  “Tag, you’re it, Elliot. I’m back in town. Call me when you get this.”

  It was apt to be uncomfortable to be around Jane and Charles tonight. Maybe he’d slip out after Will went to bed and see what Elliot had discovered.

  The bathroom door opened, and Jane exited. Her cheeks were damp, and her eyes didn’t hold their spark. She saw him fiddling with the television remote.

  He held it up. “Just setting up a movie. The kids didn’t want me around, so I thought I could stand guard here and make sure you weren’t interrupted. I thought you were already with him.”

  She shook her head. “I’m still trying to calm down. The last thing I want to do in front of him is cry. He’ll think I’m weak.”

  “You’re the strongest person I know, Jane. Don’t ever doubt your own strength.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  She didn’t believe him, and he didn’t know how to assure her he would never lie to her. Yes, he’d kept his identity a secret, but he’d never told her a lie. If the situation had taught him anything, it was that truth was more important than his comfort or his pride.

  “Smells like the kids are making pizza.”

  “They are.”

  “I can see the wheels turning,” she said. “You think I’m overreacting?”