by Sherry Lewis
From the sound of his voice, Max placed him somewhere in the middle of the house. “You’re going to have to stand trial. You can’t avoid it.”
“You think I’m stupid?” Travis’s voice came from the back of the house this time.
“If you think you’re going out that sliding door, then yes.” Max weighed his options and decided to stay where he was. Donovan undoubtedly had the back of the house covered. “I’m not alone, and my partner’s not nearly as nice as I am.”
“I’m not going back.”
“You’re not getting away.”
“You won’t hurt me,” Travis taunted. “Reagan would never forgive you.”
“Reagan has nothing to do with this,” Max shouted back. “This is between you and me.”
“Yeah? Well, you didn’t mind using her to get to me in the first place, did you?”
“I’m not talking about Reagan until you and I are face-to-face.”
Travis laughed harshly. “Don’t hold your breath for that to happen. You know what I like about you, Max? You’re as big a screwup as I am.”
“Not quite,” Max called back. “I don’t have to spend the rest of my life hiding.” He caught a glimpse of Donovan moving through the trees behind the house. “Look, man, for what it’s worth, I know you’re a decent guy. You’ve got a real chance to be somebody if you’ll just stop running around in this circle you’ve been on. You’ve already added breaking and entering to the list. You’ll be damned lucky if you don’t have to face charges for the money and bank card you stole from Reagan. Don’t make it worse. Let me inside, and let’s talk this over.”
“Right.” Travis’s mocking laughter echoed. “I’ve had enough of your brand of friendship.”
“All right,” Max shouted in frustration. “I made a mistake. A big one. I’m trying like hell to make up for it. But you know what, Travis? If Reagan doesn’t forgive me, I’ll have only myself to blame. Your situation’s no different.”
“There’s a helluva difference,” Travis argued. “I’ll be in jail. You’ll still be free.”
“Have you ever been in love, Travis? Ever met a woman you couldn’t be happy without? There’s not much to look forward to when you’re about to lose someone you feel that way about.” When Travis didn’t answer, he went on. “Look, Travis, give me a break. There’s no way you can get out of here, and shooting you might be a bad way to introduce myself to the rest of your family.”
A long silence followed. Max kept his eyes peeled in case Travis made a break for it. Donovan would warn him if Travis slipped out a window on the opposite side of the cabin.
“You’re that serious about Reagan?” Travis’s voice sounded closer.
“I’m that serious.”
“You didn’t just use her to get to me?”
“I didn’t even know she was your sister until the night you showed up. Believe me, you have nothing to do with what I feel for Reagan.” He waited for an answer. “Come on,” he said after several long minutes. “Let me in. It’s getting cold out here.” Other than the soft keening of the wind and the sound of Max’s heartbeat, nothing broke the stillness for a long time.
“You can come in, I guess,” Travis said at last. “But just to talk. Don’t try anything.”
It was a start, Max told himself as the door creaked open. He just hoped he didn’t have to leave Donovan freezing outside for long. He stepped inside and gave Travis a quick once-over. He wore a slim-fitting T-shirt tucked into a pair of tight jeans and he’d taken off his shoes, probably to dry them out. The only place he might be hiding a gun was under his plaid wool jacket.
Travis lifted its hem to show the rest of his waistband. “No weapon. You want to pat me down to make sure I’m not lying?”
Max made his decision quickly. “I believe you. Besides, my partner’s right outside. Even if you shoot me, you won’t get far.”
He took in his surroundings as he talked, making note of the large windows looking out onto the forest, the sliding glass doors leading onto a back deck, the narrow hallway that stretched from the front of the cabin to the back and widened into a kitchen in the middle. He could see two large fireplaces from where he stood, but Travis hadn’t built a fire in either one, so it wasn’t much warmer inside than out.
“How long were you planning to hole up here?”
Travis shrugged and closed the door. “However long I need to. There’s canned food and instant coffee in the kitchen, so I won’t starve for a few days.”
“And what then? Where were you planning to go from here?”
Travis sent an uneasy glance out the window. “Back down the mountain, I guess.” His hands fluttered nervously at his side. “I haven’t thought that far ahead.”
Max perched on the arm of the leather sofa, still ready for anything but hoping to put Travis at ease. “No offense, Travis, but don’t you think that’s part of the problem here? You’re living from minute to minute, flying by the seat of your pants, and never getting anywhere.”
Travis huffed a contemptuous laugh. “Depends on whose definition you’re going by. I’m doing fine.”
“You’re wanted by the law and holed up in a cabin surrounded by bail enforcement officers. The only reason my partner’s out there waiting instead of rushing the place is because I asked him to hold back as a personal favor. I hate to break it to you, but I don’t think that qualifies as ‘fine’ in anybody’s book.”
Travis turned away from him and shoved his fingers through his hair. “Like you care.”
“I care. So does Reagan.”
Travis eyed him speculatively. “And that’s supposed to make a difference to me?”
“If you want it to.”
Travis took a couple of long, jerky steps toward the window. “I’ll tell you something else that’s up to me. I’m not going to jail, no matter what.”
“You’re willing to chance the alternative?”
“Getting away? Sure. Why not?”
Max shook his head slowly. “If you think that’s the alternative, you’re making a serious error in judgment. My partner and I aren’t in the habit of letting fugitives walk away free. You might be Reagan’s brother, but you’re a fugitive first, and I have a job to do.”
“You can try.”
“I’m good at what I do, Travis. Make no mistake about that. And my partner’s even better. I’m giving you a chance to walk in to the police department on your own. If you don’t want to take it, we’ll just go to plan B. For someone who claims to hate jail so much, you sure keep trying to get there. Wouldn’t it make more sense to go straight?”
“And what would that get me?”
“Maybe nothing. Maybe a little self-pride. Who knows? Have you ever tried it?”
“Self-pride.” Travis snorted in derision. “What good would that do?”
“What good does it do to live without it? Can you honestly say you’re happy living on the run?”
“Happier than I’d be in jail.”
“Jail doesn’t have to be more than a temporary setback,” Max said. “But if you keep going the way you have been, you could be looking at a lifetime spent in prison.”
“No way.” Travis shoved the blinds covering the window out of his way and glared outside. “Never.”
“Then change the way you’re doing things.” Max forced himself to stay put so he wouldn’t spook Travis. “It’s up to you. You choose what your future brings. You can come down the mountain with me voluntarily, or you can fight it and take another few strikes into court with you—assuming my partner lets you make it that far.”
“Maybe I won’t go to court at all.”
Max took a beat or two to think about how to respond. Instinct told him that he could rush Travis and take him down before the kid could react, but his promise to Reagan kept echoing through his mind. “Why are you so determined to make life miserable for yourself? What are you getting out of it?”
“I’m not getting anything out of it. My life stinks.”
“You’re getting something,” Max insisted, “or you wouldn’t keep doing the same thing over and over.”
“What the hell do you know about it?” Travis demanded. “Why do you care?”
“I care because Reagan cares,” Max said honestly. “And because your nieces care. And because I got to know you a little, and I think that underneath it all, you’re actually a decent guy.” He stood slowly so Donovan could see him through the window and realize that he was still all right. “I could be all wrong about this, but I think you’re trying to find reassurance from your family. The more screwed up your life gets, the more Reagan tries to fix it for you. But she’s already reached the breaking point and you’re going to end up with nothing but a screwed-up life and a nice cozy prison cell to spend your old age in.”
Travis’s shoulders hunched slightly, the only sign that he heard a word.
“No matter what you’re looking for,” Max continued, “nobody else but you will be sitting in that jail cell—not your dad, not Reagan, not any of your friends who were with you when you started in this direction…just you. Think about it. Whether you’re looking for something or trying to get back at somebody, is it really worth the price you’re going to pay?”
Travis’s expression hardened, but he still didn’t speak. Max was running out of things to say.
He caught a glimpse of Donovan moving closer through the trees. “It’s your ball, Travis. And it’s time to decide how you’re going to play it this time. But I’d suggest you do it quickly. I don’t think my partner’s going to wait outside in the cold much longer.”
BY EIGHT O’CLOCK that evening, Reagan was so worried about Jamie, she couldn’t think clearly. She clutched the steering wheel of her car as she drove slowly through the streets of Serenity, staring into the inky shadows and praying frantically for help. Her thoughts twisted and curled, alternating between hope that Jamie would show up unharmed and the desperate fear that she wouldn’t.
She’d entertained one brief moment of hope that afternoon when she’d concluded that Jamie had probably run off to take the climbing lessons. With her heart in her throat, she’d called Teton Extreme Sports, expecting to be told that Jamie had signed up for the lessons.
But the hope had been short-lived. Jamie’s name wasn’t on the class list. In desperation, Reagan had called the police. The officer had been sympathetic but not overly concerned. His own children had pushed the envelope by staying out later than they should when they were teenagers and they’d always come back safe and sound. Reagan wished she could be as certain. Her options of places to look were rapidly dwindling.
As she rolled slowly past the diner, she wiped her burning eyes and realized she really was a hazard on the road. She pulled into the parking lot and shut off the motor. She dialed home on her cell phone to check in with Andie and Danielle, then pocketed her keys and crossed the parking lot.
A dozen pairs of eyes looked up as she entered, and the expressions on their faces told her that word had spread about Jamie’s disappearance. Reagan wanted no part of their pity. They already assumed the worst, but she wouldn’t allow herself to believe it, even for a moment.
Stacy came out from behind the counter and slipped an arm around Reagan’s waist. “Have you heard anything yet?”
“Not yet, but I’m sure it’s just a matter of time.” She stepped away from Stacy and nodded toward a booth with a clear view of the street. “Do you mind if I sit there?”
“It’s all yours. Do you want coffee?”
“Please. Lots of it.” While Stacy hurried away, Reagan sank into the seat and rested her elbows on the table and her chin in her hands.
Stacy returned carrying a coffeepot and a stack of napkins. “She’s going to be fine,” she said as she filled Reagan’s cup. “You’ll find her.” She put the pot on the counter behind her and took a seat across from Reagan. “You know how kids that age are—always up to something.”
“I know.” Reagan picked up her cup and held it, but her hands shook so badly she spilled some of the scalding liquid on her fingers.
Stacy took the cup from her and settled it in the saucer. “Listen, Reagan, I know you like to be independent. You’ve kept mostly to yourself since you came here, but don’t make the mistake of doing it now. This is the time when you need friends and neighbors.”
Reagan met Stacy’s warm gaze and let out a shaky breath. “I just don’t understand how she could disappear so completely. Nobody seems to know anything.”
“Somebody does,” Stacy assured her. “You just haven’t found that person yet.”
“I’ve talked to everyone she knows. I’ve driven up and down every street in town a dozen times or more. I’ve called every one of her friends and even kids she doesn’t like. I’ve talked to the school, to her teachers—” her voice cracked and the lump that had been sitting in her throat all evening swelled “—and she’s nowhere.”
“I know. I know.” Stacy leaned across the table and put a hand over hers. “You look all done in. You can’t keep going like this.”
“I can’t stop! I can’t go home and take a nap and forget that my daughter is missing.”
“Look,” Stacy said. “I get off work in half an hour. I’ll be glad to help you look. And I know a lot of other people feel the same way. They’re just waiting for you to ask.”
Reagan sat back. She’d never considered asking for help. If Andie hadn’t insisted on calling Bart, Reagan would have searched alone until the police thought enough time had passed to get involved.
But why hadn’t she thought of asking? Why hadn’t she looked outside herself for help? Why did she always think she needed to solve every problem, handle every crisis on her own?
“I can put out some calls if you want,” Stacy was saying. “We could get a whole crew of people here in minutes.”
Reagan fought back a wave of grateful tears. “I—I’d like that.”
“We’ll all put our heads together and come up with something. We’ll find her.”
Reagan nodded weakly. She wanted desperately to believe. She needed to believe. “Okay. Thank you.”
“It’s no problem. I assume Max is already out looking.”
Reagan hesitated for a split second before answering. She’d been trying not to think about Max all evening without much success. She’d been struggling to stop wanting him with her, to keep from needing him at her side in this crisis. But it wasn’t working. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, she wasn’t strong enough to go through this alone.
“He’s out in the field,” she told Stacy. “Working.”
“He didn’t come back to help?” Stacy looked shocked. “That doesn’t seem like him at all.”
“He doesn’t know about Jamie,” Reagan admitted. “I don’t even know how to reach him.”
Stacy frowned and her brows drew together. “He doesn’t have a cell phone?”
“If he does, he didn’t give me the number.”
“He’s so secretive.”
Reagan’s natural instinct rose like a wall in her heart, but protecting Travis’s reputation didn’t seem so important anymore. Neither did her own. “He’s only being secretive to help me,” she said quietly. “He’s here to arrest my brother.”
Stacy fell back against her chair and did her best not to look stunned. “I didn’t…I…” She shook her head and laughed weakly. “Listen to me jabbering like an idiot. It’s just that he never let on, not even once.”
“No. He wouldn’t have. He didn’t want to embarrass me by letting people know why he was really here.”
“Now, that sounds like him.” Stacy patted Reagan’s arm. “He’s a good man, Reagan. The kind a smart woman would hang on to for a long time.”
Reagan lifted her cup again and, heartened by the fact that she didn’t spill any, took a sip. “It’s not that simple.”
“Why not? You like him. He likes you. Sounds pretty simple to me.”
“I can’t think about that now.
Not until Jamie’s home again.”
Stacy’s fingers traced a pattern on the table. “Sorry. I thought maybe talking about Max would help to take your mind off it.”
“I don’t think anything could do that.”
“Then let’s find that daughter of yours.” Stacy stood again. “I’ll go make those phone calls. We’ll have a whole crew of people here before you can finish that coffee.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
IT WAS NEARLY TEN O’CLOCK when Max pulled into the parking lot in front of Serenity’s city offices and shut off the engine. His eyes burned from fatigue and his arms and legs ached from his trek up and down the mountain. He’d kept the heater blasting most of the way back to town, but his pants and boots were still wet from the snow and he hadn’t been able to get warm. Donovan didn’t look much more comfortable, and Travis sat in the back seat, shivering.
Once Max turned Travis over to the police and stopped by Reagan’s to let her know they were back in one piece, he’d head back to the Wagon Wheel for a long, hot shower.
Travis leaned forward in his seat, his face a mask. “You’re leaving me here?”
“Yep.” Max opened his door and put one foot out on the pavement. “I can’t let you go back to Reagan’s and pretend like nothing’s happened.”
“She won’t like it, you know. She’ll be mad that you left me here.”
Max took a deep breath and swung his gaze back to the kid. “I doubt that, but if she is, I’ll deal with it. Personally, I think you need to face the facts. You stole from her and you lied. You destroyed what little trust she had left in you. She might very well want your butt in jail for a good, long time.”
Donovan muttered something and stepped out into the night.
Travis shook his head and looked away. “Whatever.”
“Exactly.” Max climbed out of the car, holding back a groan when the stiffness of cold, overworked muscles hit him. He shut his door and rounded the car to let Travis out. Lights gleamed from the tiny building, making it look warm and welcoming. Max was grateful that Donovan had insisted on calling to let the chief know they were on their way in.
Max took Travis by the elbow and nudged him toward the low-slung building just as two cars drove past and pulled into the parking lot of the diner on the next block. To Max’s surprise, the diner was still brightly lit and he could see people inside a full hour after it usually closed.