Wrong Number

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Wrong Number Page 20

by Rachelle Christensen


  “If this all works out, I may be able to see my mom for the first time in almost a year.” She looked at Wyatt. His eyes crinkled in a half-smile, and then he turned his attention back to the road. Aubree stared out her window and wondered what she should do. She put her hand on his arm. “I’m sorry I dragged you into my mess. It’s too dangerous. I shouldn’t have—”

  “Aubree, don’t. I’m worried sick about you, and I wouldn’t want you doing this by yourself no matter what the circumstances are.”

  “Thank you.” She squeezed his arm and then leaned her head back. It was all too much; her mind was spinning with so many possibilities. She hoped there would be a chance to undo the hurt she’d inflicted on Wyatt in her effort to keep him safe from whoever was after her. Aubree held back the tears threatening to reveal her pain.

  He dropped her off at her trailer and said he had to do a few things, but he’d be back in a few hours. Aubree waited until he left, and then she lay on the lumpy mattress and cried herself to sleep.

  Scarlett was everywhere in her dreams, and she kept rolling over to cuddle with her and coming up empty-handed. She dreamed her mom was coming to visit at the campground. In the dream, Wyatt helped her prepare a Dutch oven dinner, and they waited anxiously for Madeline to arrive. A light knock on the door sent Aubree’s heart into her throat— she was finally going to see her mother. She went to the door and opened it with a smile, but Madeline wasn’t there. It was a man wearing a dark hooded sweatshirt and laughing—a horrible gruff cackle. Aubree screamed. In her dream she heard a loud noise and hurried footsteps, and then someone shook her.

  “Aubree, wake up. It’s Wyatt. I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

  She struggled to open her eyes, and when she realized it really was Wyatt holding her, she sobbed. She held on to him, and he pulled her into his lap and stroked her hair. “Shh, it’s okay.”

  He rubbed her arms, and she murmured, “It was another dream. He was in it. Wyatt, I’m scared. I hope we did the right thing.” She snuggled into his chest and took a deep breath.

  “I think we did. I think it’s going to turn out right,” he said. “I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have left you alone. That was a stupid thing to do.”

  “No, it was my fault.” Aubree looked up at him. “I pushed you away because I didn’t want you to get hurt if I have to run again.”

  Wyatt stopped rocking and looked at her.

  “I’m sorry, Wyatt, what I should have done—”

  “Shh.” He put a finger to her lips. “I understand. It’s all happened too fast, and I don’t want you to be unhappy.”

  Aubree sat up and put her hands on his cheeks. “It’s not too fast. It’s been wonderful, like a dream. But with my husband and everything that’s happened . . . . I guess that’s why I’ve held back. I keep thinking it’s just one of my rare good dreams, and I’m going to wake up and he’ll be there laughing again, waiting to kill me.”

  “I won’t let anyone hurt you. You’ll get through this, and then you’ll be on your way. You and Scarlett can live in a house instead of a camp trailer.” He chuckled.

  Shaking her head, she smiled. “I should’ve said this the first chance you gave me. I don’t want to be on my way. I love you.”

  Wyatt’s eyes widened, and then his cheeks lifted with a familiar bright smile. He pulled her close and kissed her. His chest rumbled, and Aubree realized he was laughing or crying or both, since he looked happy, but a few tears rolled down his face. She kissed him again and then pulled back to look at him. “I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner.”

  He shook his head. “Aubree, I love you, and I don’t care what happens. I want to be with you and Scarlett. But you’re gonna have to make it up to me, because that was a pretty nasty trick to pull on a guy as softhearted as I am.”

  She put her arms around his neck and whispered, “I’ve been so afraid. Everyone I love is in danger, and I didn’t want to drag one more person into the mess.”

  “We’ll get this mess cleaned up, and then you won’t have to be afraid anymore.” Wyatt kissed her forehead and held her close again. “What time do you want to leave tomorrow to head for Bear Lake?”

  “I’d like to get there early, so eleven o’clock should give us plenty of time.”

  “I’m skipping my rounds tomorrow, except for the ones I can do on the way out. Do you mind if we leave at ten-thirty?” Wyatt said.

  “I don’t mind at all if you’ll come have breakfast with me in the morning.” Aubree leaned back and stretched. “I hope I’ll be able to sleep after that long nap.”

  “I could give you a good-night kiss to help you sleep better.” He gave her a quick peck on the cheek. “Do you want me to pitch a tent outside?”

  “No, I’ll be okay.” She yawned. “See, all this stress is catching up to me. I’ll sleep fine if I can stay away from the nightmares.”

  Wyatt kissed her again, this time on the mouth, and Aubree tightened her embrace and thought about how much she loved him. A shard of fear still nagged at her heart, but she was through giving into it—it was time to live her life again. She was ready to hope for better things, and Wyatt was one of those. He kissed her until her heart raced faster, and it was the first time in a year her breathlessness wasn’t caused by fear.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  NERVOUS JITTERS MADE IT difficult for Aubree and Wyatt to enjoy breakfast the next morning, and even though they tried to talk about other things, it was pointless. Aubree worried about what she would tell Jason when they met, and then she worried if Scarlett was doing okay. Wyatt worried about both of them. She watched the tension lines crease between his eyes as he chewed a pancake drenched in maple syrup.

  “Maybe when this is all over, we could have a real dinner date without anxiety for the main course.” Aubree lifted up a forkful of pancakes and half-smiled.

  He grinned. “I think that’s the best thing I’ve heard all morning. Have you ever eaten at the Bluebird Restaurant in Logan?”

  “I doubt it. I don’t remember ever going to Logan. We always came to Bear Lake through Idaho.”

  “Well, then, that’s where we’ll go. Your mom would love it. I know my parents do.” He took another bite of pancakes and a swig of orange juice. “That’s how we can keep our minds busy today—let’s plan some dates.”

  “I’d like you to come with me to visit my mom and see where I grew up.”

  “So now we’re talking overnighters, huh?”

  Aubree blushed and threw her napkin at Wyatt. “I think the tree house I played in is still semi-sturdy.”

  “Hey, that sounds like a deal.” Wyatt flicked the napkin back at Aubree.

  She looked at her watch and frowned. “I miss Scarlett so much. She’s probably eating her breakfast and wondering where her mommy is. I hope she’s okay.”

  “Why don’t we call on the way?” Wyatt said. “The cell service is unreliable here, but once we’re on the main road it shouldn’t drop the call.”

  “In that case, let’s get going.” Aubree finished off the last bite of her pancakes.

  They left the campground by ten o’clock. Wyatt made a quick loop in his truck and checked out all the campsites. As they exited Paris Springs, Aubree looked toward the fork in the road. To the left were the ice caves and to the right was the road leading to the small town of Paris, only twenty minutes from their destination.

  Wyatt stopped at the fee area and emptied the payment box. While he re-locked the box, Aubree noticed something about fifty yards up the road. She squinted and could see a car blocking the road with the hood up. The sun glinted off the silver Corolla, and Aubree had to shade her eyes against the glare.

  She could see a man working on the car and sighed. It was terrible to think, but she didn’t want to get stuck doing car repairs—she wanted to call and check on Scarlett. But the car blocked their exit, and Aubree knew Wyatt would help. She shrugged as he climbed back into the cab. Maybe it would be something simple.

  Wyatt put the pick
up into gear, and suddenly Aubree remembered something about the brief bit of training she’d received before entering the witness protection program—Don’t accept things for how they appear. Question everything. And so she did. “Wyatt, I don’t think we should go this way. Something’s not right.”

  “What do you mean? It looks like that guy’s having some car trouble.” Wyatt pointed and stepped on the gas.

  “Just turn left, left!” Aubree shouted.

  Wyatt jumped when she shouted and cranked the steering wheel to the left. The momentum made Aubree slide next to him, and Wyatt’s expression changed from shocked to knowing. “If you want to sit next to me, I don’t have a problem with it.” He winked, and Aubree rolled her eyes.

  “Keep driving. That’s not why I wanted you to turn left. Really, something doesn’t feel right. Why would a car break down in the road like that—blocking the only way out of here?”

  “I don’t know. People do strange things all the time. Maybe he wanted to make sure someone would stop to help him.”

  Aubree glanced back over her shoulder. “Exactly.”

  “What? You think the FBI somehow traced you here?” Wyatt said. “That’s impossible.”

  Aubree closed her eyes and massaged her temples. “No—I mean, I don’t know. I’m sorry; you must think I’m crazy.”

  He patted her leg and winked. “Just paranoid.” He shied away when Aubree playfully slapped his hand. “You know I’m joking. I’m just as worried as you are. Tell you what, why don’t we just drive up to the ice caves? I check up there a couple times a week to make sure there isn’t any vandalism or other problems.”

  “Then what should we do if we come back and that car is still there?” Aubree said.

  Wyatt rubbed the bit of stubble along his jaw line. “We’ll figure something out.”

  “I guess I’m keyed up because the end is in sight.” She put her head in her hands and sighed.

  They were halfway to the ice caves when Aubree heard a loud noise, and the pickup jerked to one side.

  “What in the world?” Wyatt held tight to the steering wheel and looked behind him. He gasped. Aubree turned to see what the problem was and screamed. The silver Corolla was only twenty yards behind them, and there were two men inside. One of them was pointing something out his window. Wyatt jammed his foot down on the gas pedal, and the truck jumped forward. A shrieking sound and breaking glass sounded right outside. Aubree saw her side mirror explode.

  “They have guns!” she screamed, and then she covered her mouth.

  “Get down. They blew out one of my tires.” Wyatt sank down in his seat. “Get my cell phone and call 911.”

  Aubree reached over and unclipped his cell phone from his belt. She punched in the numbers and cried, “There’s no service!” Another shot fired, and glass from the back window of the pickup flew everywhere. Aubree shook glass from her hair and looked at Wyatt. It seemed like they were going in slow motion, but it had only been a couple seconds since they spotted the car.

  “You’re bleeding.” She pulled a small piece of glass from his forearm, and he winced.

  “This isn’t gonna work. The truck is pulling too hard.” Wyatt reached under his seat and pulled out his holster. He took out his gun and released the safety. “I’m going to stop the truck, and you’ve got to run.”

  “No, I can’t,” Aubree cried.

  “Run to the ice cave and hide in the cavern I showed you. Call for help on the way. I know there’s some service when you get near the cave—it’s higher ground.” He pushed the button to roll down his window and gripped his gun.

  “I can’t—please don’t make me leave.” Her voice was a strained whisper.

  “You have to. I’ll try to distract them. Hold on.” He jammed his foot on the gas pedal and swerved to the left hard. The truck spun sideways. Aubree could see out Wyatt’s window. The silver Corolla approached fast. “Run! Go now! I know another hiding place close by,” Wyatt yelled and then pulled the trigger—shots flew from his window. Aubree paused a second to see his second bullet break through the windshield of the car. The Corolla swerved. Aubree held tight to the cell phone and ran.

  TWENTY-SIX

  MORE SHOTS PUNCTUATED THE mountain stillness as Aubree ran up the dusty road. Her breath came in short gasps. Glancing behind her, she could see Wyatt by the side of the pickup. He crouched behind his tire, and another shot rang out. Forcing her legs to go faster, she pushed the redial button on the cell phone and kept running.

  Adrenaline fired through her veins, and she scrambled up the slope toward the face of the rocky cave. The cell phone still didn’t have service, but she kept pushing redial anyway. Just before she reached the opening of the cave, the screen showed one bar.

  “Please, please be enough,” she said and took in another ragged breath. She pushed the send button once more and watched the cell phone’s screen flicker. The phone said it was calling, but she couldn’t hear any rings. Aubree stood still and lifted the phone above her head, but it didn’t seem to change the reception. As she brought it back down to her ear, she heard a voice: “911, is this an emergency?”

  “Yes!” Aubree screamed, “Come to the Paris Springs Campground, to the ice caves. They have guns—they’re shooting at us.”

  “Are you injured?”

  Aubree took a breath and looked at herself—there was blood on her shirt, but maybe it was from the cut on Wyatt’s arm. “I don’t know.”

  “How many people are injured?”

  “Wyatt was bleeding from a cut on his arm . . . hello?” Aubree looked at the phone and saw that the call had been dropped. She wondered if the dispatcher had collected enough information to find them.

  She hit redial again, but then she heard another gunshot. Her heart felt like it was lodged in her throat, and she looked around wildly. There was no one in sight. Wyatt had told her to hide in the ice cave, but what if he was hurt? She looked around once more and then stepped into the cool darkness of the cave.

  Dripping water echoed off the walls, and she stepped wide to miss a large puddle of water. The cave looked much the same as before, but she shivered as her breath hovered in frosty clouds. She stared at the narrow opening to the hidden cavern, and her stomach did a flip-flop.

  Crouching down to peer into the depths made her abdomen clench even tighter. It was dark, and Aubree only had the light from Wyatt’s cell phone. She hesitated for a minute and tried to decide what to do. Maybe she could climb higher on the mountain and get another call through.

  She sat back on her heels and looked at the opening. Her ears pricked up at the sound of approaching footsteps. She scrambled into the opening on her hands and knees, scraping her back on the low-hanging rocks. The frozen ground bit at her palms as she shimmied inside the cavern. Pulling her legs in tight beside her, she stopped to listen. She felt disoriented in the inky blackness of the cavern, and she strained to see the opening she had just slid through. A noise like shattering glass echoed through the chamber, and Aubree knew someone else was in the cave. Whoever it was had stepped on the frozen shards of ice littering the walkway.

  She extended her hand above her head to gauge how much room she had to move. There was only a six-inch space before she made contact with another piece of solid stone. Aubree tried to remember what the cavern had looked like when Wyatt pointed his flashlight inside—it was narrow for a few feet, and then it gradually opened up to a small chamber.

  Straining to hear any sound, she moved across the rock floor. Every scrape was amplified, and she wondered if she should stay still. There was definitely someone walking through the cave, but if it were Wyatt, he would have called out for her by now. This thought made her pulse race again, and she decided to keep moving away from the opening.

  “Aubree Stewart, are you in here? The paramedics are on their way to help your friend. He said you might be in here,” a man’s voice called through the cave.

  Aubree tensed and held her breath. Tears stung her eyes as ra
w fear overcame her. Now she was certain someone had entered the cave, but she also knew he wasn’t here to help her.

  “Are you hurt?” the voice called out again.

  She didn’t fall for his trick for even half a second. Memories from a year ago assaulted her, and she felt dizzy with fear.

  “I think your friend is hurt pretty bad. He was calling for you.”

  Aubree thought about the sound of his voice, mentally comparing it to the voice she heard on TV. Governor Ferrin sounded slightly different, perhaps he spoke with a bit of a Midwestern drawl, and this man’s speech was clipped.

  The deadpan voice continued, “It’s okay to come on out. I was out hiking and saw the action and said I’d help.”

  Aubree listened to him walking through the cave. He had probably made a full search and was surveying for exits.

  “Well, I guess if you’re not going to come out. I’ll have to find you.”

  As if she’d been cattle-prodded, Aubree scrambled farther into the cavern away from the menacing voice. She moved stealthily, marking every sound and listening for his movement.

  “Aubree Stewart, I saw you come in here. It’s dark, but I’ll find you eventually.” The voice rang through the cave. “You’ve messed up my plans Mrs. Stewart—oh, I guess its Ms. now isn’t it? Sorry about that.” He laughed, and Aubree’s muscles froze at the sound. She braced herself as he continued speaking.

  “Your friend is out of commission, so you may as well come out now. I mean that in the permanent sense—he’s taken a leave of absence.” The gruff cackle echoed off the walls of the cavern and grated against Aubree’s ears.

  She clamped a hand over her mouth to keep from crying out. He was lying—he had to be. She wouldn’t believe Wyatt was dead—that this horrible monster had murdered another man she loved. She sucked in a breath, realizing he would kill her too.

  As if he had heard her thoughts, he continued, “I don’t want to kill you, Aubree. I just need to talk to you.” His voice seemed to move all over the cave. “That cute little baby of yours is probably missing her mommy, don’t you think? Would you like to see her?”

 

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