Expired Refuge

by Lisa Phillips

  “What’s up?”

  There were a few seconds of quiet, then she said, “Why didn’t you tell me that Mara broke up with you the night she died? And that she was actually dating Ed Summers?”

  Conroy squeezed the bridge of his nose. “Would it have made that much of a difference?”

  Her sister would still be dead. It wouldn’t change the fact he’d tried to stop the accident but hadn’t managed to do so. He relived it nearly every time he got behind the wheel. The one time he’d been in a fender bender, on the job at the time, it hadn’t gone well. The other driver had wound up calling emergency services and asking for an ambulance for him—the freaked out police officer they’d hit.

  Talk about embarrassing.

  He’d gone through meeting after meeting with the therapist in town before he’d been able to explain it all to the chief fully enough to get released back to active duty instead of being stuck at a desk.

  But he’d closed four cases at that desk.

  Mia sighed. “I can’t believe you didn’t say anything.”

  Maybe Mia was upset that he hadn’t told her Mara had broken up with him, even after she had bared all about her failed relationship with a coworker, that night in his condo, right before she fell asleep. Was that what this was about? Maybe she was embarrassed. Didn’t she get it that he hadn’t wanted to tarnish Mara’s reputation? Or maybe it was true that he’d felt discarded by Mara that night. She had chosen Ed over him, and he hadn’t wanted to admit it.

  “So I guess now you know,” Conroy said. “She didn’t want me.”

  “I know what that feels like. With my coworker. Not sure I’d still try to save his life, though.”

  “No?” She wouldn’t have done that for the man she’d liked?

  “His dog was the one with me when I took out Thompson Stiles. He just carried her away and didn’t say anything. Didn’t even check to make sure I was okay. I was lying there with Stiles on me, blood everywhere. I think they were all mad I’d killed him when he hurt the dog. They couldn’t haul him in for questioning and read him his rights.”

  “Are you at your dad’s house?”

  “Yes—why?”

  “I’m coming over.” He shoved out the front door where Wilcox waited ready to hang police tape on the door. “We should talk.”

  It was that or drive to Seattle and punch his way through her team until he got to the right guy. Seriously? Surely there were some good people in the ATF. Probably more than a few, and this was just a case of one bad egg. But he couldn’t believe she would want to keep working there.

  “Don’t. You don’t need to come over. I’m fine,” she lied. “My dad is here.”

  “Mia—”

  “I don’t wanna talk about it. I want to know why you didn’t tell me Mara had just dumped you. Didn’t you want me to know?”

  He walked down the drive, far enough Wilcox wouldn’t be able to hear. “Not exactly something a guy wants to admit to the woman he’s attracted to. Someone he likes and respects.” And hoped to convince to move back to town and take up a job as a cop in his department.

  “Have you found Stiles yet?” It almost sounded like an accusation.

  “We found the place he’s been staying.”

  “You…really?”

  “I haven’t been sitting around.” Wallowing over her. Or brooding. Women liked guys who brooded, right? “I’ve been working.”

  He wanted to ask who told her that Mara had dumped him, but he was pretty sure his first guess would be right.

  If his sister thought he was bringing rolls to Sunday dinner still, she was going to be disappointed.

  “Of course.” She cleared her throat. “Any sign of him?”

  Conroy said, “No.” But he glanced up and down the street as he did. Like Stiles would be sitting on the street in his car. Watching. “No sign of him here.”

  “Keep me posted.” She hung up.

  Conroy stowed his phone, about as frustrated with all this as she sounded. Summers’s men had let the guy working for Stiles drive off, and they’d done nothing. No, not true. They’d shot Tate and taken Mia for themselves.

  “What’s next?”

  He glanced at Wilcox. “Pull the tape down. We need to talk to the neighbor. I have an idea.”

  Twenty

  “Call him back. Let him explain.”

  Mia shook her head. She grabbed her keys and pulled on a jacket, moving to the front door. She turned back at the last second. “I’m going to get some air.”

  “With a guy after you?”

  “Conroy is on it.”

  But just in case, she switched her jacket for her dad’s and grabbed an orange beanie he’d worn hunting. It smelled. She took a ball cap instead, and the keys to his car.

  Her dad made a face, the stubble on his jaw shifting as he worked his mouth.

  “I have a gun.”

  He sighed.

  “So do you,” she said. “Keep it close.”

  She headed for her car. He was probably going to call Conroy the second the door shut behind her. Considering he’d been exactly right that there was a guy after her, she didn’t mind overly much. Mia’s pain meds had kicked in. She’d thought about taking a nap—that was the same thing as taking one, right?—and she’d eaten. Full belly meant fully-loaded energy stores.

  Now she was ready to take this guy down.

  Mia might have been knocked on her proverbial behind. That didn’t mean she was down forever. Conroy thought he needed to take care of her. Guys liked that, having a woman they could rescue. One who made rescuing them worth it instead of a chore. She could handle that, but she couldn’t handle having to sit back and do nothing while everyone on the police force in Last Chance County found Anthony Stiles.

  Driving around town was like a trip down memory lane. Main Street. The bowling alley and the movie theater. The gym that used to be her dance studio as a kid, before she quit dance to spend more time on the phone with her friends. It was hard to see places she’d been with Mara. Bittersweet was probably the best way to describe it.

  Those were the old days. Ones that made her wonder why she’d resisted coming back for so long. Because it was easier to hold onto her bitterness than it was to offer Conroy forgiveness? Pain was often more comforting than the fear that accompanied letting it go and waiting for what else might come. It was like a wound that was never allowed to heal. The alternative—forgiveness—was hoping that what came after would be something good. Not more pain that was different, and likely worse. Fresh, at least.

  Her phone rang. She glanced at it, perched in the cup holder. Conroy.

  She ignored it, too tired and uncomfortable to deal with more emotions, and continued her trip down memory lane. She just didn’t allow her mind to go all the way back. Not when there was danger in the present.

  Gun in the glove box. She was ready for Anthony Stiles this time. He wasn’t going to catch her unaware again. Not him, or whoever he sent to get her.

  The phone in the cup holder went dark. She headed for the highway, mostly so she didn’t wind up going in circles. If the restaurant just fifteen minutes out of town was still open…well then, she’d just have to stop and get some pie.

  All part of the job.

  Car headlights flashed in her rearview. A tug on the control lever to literally flash their brights at her, or just a creation of reflection and angle? She looked down at the phone and then said to the silence of the car’s interior, “Probably you, Conroy. Right?”

  Maybe.

  She turned with the bend in the highway and saw the car. Red, a small SUV. It was definitely not Conroy. Fear rolled through her like that old adage of someone stepping on your grave. She’d never believed that. There was nothing magical in the world. All the spiritual, and there was plenty unexplainable about that, was governed by God.

  And behind her, this guy was just a man.

  Men made mistakes, just like everyone did. You broke the law, you got caught. Eventually.r />
  Mr. Red SUV revved his engine.

  “Anthony Stiles, is that you?”

  He pushed the car up close to her back bumper.

  What was he trying to do, run her off the road? Kill her. Kidnap her again?

  Mia’s mind flooded with second thoughts. She swiped up the phone and thumbed through her contacts while she drove with one hand. Not exactly safe, but it was always better to put out a call for help rather than face the unknown alone.

  Wilcox answered on the first ring. “He’s looking for you.”

  She didn’t know if Savannah meant Conroy or the bad guy.

  Mia tapped the speaker button and dropped the phone back in the cup holder. “Anthony Stiles? He already found me.” She told Savannah about the car, and gave her a location.

  Savannah spoke, but it was muffled. “We’re on our way. Keep him behind you.” She was quiet for a second. Mia was about to say something when Savannah added, “Conroy said don’t do anything. Just let him follow you.”

  “Not like I’m going to force the issue.”

  A roadblock was one thing. Reaching for her gun and either firing at the car behind her or turning the car around in a high-speed maneuver and firing at the car straight on? Those were entirely different.

  She tapped her brakes. Just another driver on the road who thought the person behind them was too close.

  He didn’t back off.

  From the cup holder she heard, “We’re at least five minutes out.”

  “Okay.”

  Savannah said, “Still behind you?”

  “Yep. I’m a couple of miles from Sunshine.” That was the restaurant on the highway. Huge cedar beams, a tall, wooden bear someone had carved from an old log. A tree that fell down during a storm, painted like a black bear. Chicken fried steak. Waffles.

  Best pie in the northwest.

  “Pull in,” Conroy demanded, his voice close to the phone’s mic. Evidently he’d grabbed the device from Savannah.

  “The parking lot?”

  From what she remembered, it could be a good place to box Stiles in and force a confrontation.

  Behind her, Stiles revved the engine and got closer to her.

  He could hit her. Send her car into a spin.

  She could slam into a tree and not walk away from the scene.

  “I could use some pie.” Levity. That was what she needed. “What’s the special this week? Do you know?”

  “Pie?”

  Savannah came on. Sounded like they were on speaker now, too. “Blueberry cobbler,” she said. “I have their web page set as the homepage on the browser on my phone. I check it every Monday morning.”

  Mia gripped the wheel and tried to force a smile on her face. “I think you might be my new best friend.”

  “You need to focus,” Conroy ordered.

  “I’m headed to the restaurant. I’m trying not to freak out,” she said. “Cut me some slack, okay? I’ll be there in a minute. Where will you be?”

  “Right behind him.” The words were short.

  He had about as much patience as she remembered. When Mara told him she was throwing him out in favor of Ed Summers, he had to have lost it. Even back then, Summers had been into petty stuff. Why her sister ever wanted to trade Conroy out for Ed, Mia would never understand. Then again, Meena had done the same. She’d chosen Ed.

  “He’s still with me. It’s going to be fine.” She was half a mile out from the restaurant. “Maybe I should call ahead. Make a reservation.”

  For a suspect take down. Followed by three orders of pie and ice cream, assuming Conroy was going to have calmed down by then. At least enough he would sit and have dessert with them.

  The highway turned again. Pine trees flanked either side, interspersed with a dusting of snow. Elevation was climbing. It was getting colder. She was starting to sweat though, so she eased off on the heater while she kept one eye on the road.

  Savannah asked, “Where is he now?”

  “Still right behind me.” Like a dog, determined to sniff another dog’s butt. Gross, but part of doggie life. This guy definitely had the front of his car up somewhere she didn’t want it, and she’d rather he backed off.

  Which only reminded her of Daisy, running at her full tilt. Just thinking about it made her arm throb and a whimper work its way up her throat.

  “Mia.”

  She sniffed but gave herself a second to absorb Conroy’s concern. He cared about her. She wasn’t alone. “I’m okay.”

  Wilcox and Conroy were both coming. Mia could face one man on her own, especially with her gun in her hand this time. But just knowing they cared enough to drop what they were doing and come after her to help? The fact they were here made all the difference in the world.

  She wasn’t sure her own teammates would have done that unless it had been an order from their group supervisor.

  “I see the restaurant.”

  “We’re here,” Savannah said.

  Mia looked in the side mirror and saw their cop car right behind the red car Stiles was driving. Just the sight of it gave her a rush of adrenaline.

  She held her breath. Doing anything else would cause her to broadcast what was about to happen.

  At the last second, Mia tapped the brake and turned into the restaurant parking lot. Thankfully there were no pedestrians that she could see, but she still kept her eyes peeled for anyone walking. Or a little kid who might dart between two parked cars.

  Stiles pulled in behind her. She hit the gas, tore down to the end of the row, and pulled up her handbrake. She twisted the wheel all the way to the right, two handed.

  Stiles turned out of the way but not entirely. He clipped her back bumper and sped on. She saw the man’s face. Her kidnapper. Not Stiles.

  Conroy was so close behind that he bumped the back of the kidnapper’s car.

  She spun to a stop and watched Conroy and Savannah blow past her, after the red car, the female detective looking concerned as they peeled out of the parking lot at the far end.

  “You okay?” Savannah asked, her voice displaying as much concern as her face had.

  Mia got her car turned around and followed as quickly as she could.

  “Mia!” Conroy yelled.

  “I’m fine. Are you guys okay?”

  “We’re good,” Savannah said.

  She fought to catch up. They were moving fast. “Where is he going?”

  “My guess?” Conroy said, “That would be Ed Summers’ compound. It’s the only thing on this road unless you’re heading to the city, and that would take another three hours.”

  “I’ll run out of gas before then.”

  “I guess we’ll see if we’re right. Or we’ll turn back. It’s coming up.”

  Mia got as close as she dared. Certainly not as close as Stiles’s guy had been riding her back bumper. “You think—”

  She didn’t even get a chance to finish. Up ahead of Conroy’s police department vehicle, the red SUV turned down a lane flanked by wood posts. Strung up high between the two posts was a huge sign. Weathered too badly for anyone to read.

  Mia forgot whose place it was, but thought it might have been where Ed Summers and his mom had moved in with his stepdad. Too long ago for her to remember much about it. She’d hardly cared. Summers hadn’t been on her radar back then.

  Not the way Conroy had been.

  Conroy pulled their car over. Mia parked right behind them, at an angle that would allow her back onto the road easily. They all got out and met in a huddle between their back bumper and her front. Guns out.

  “You need a vest.”

  Conroy was right. “We’re going in now?”

  He nodded. “Got one in your trunk?”

  “No.”

  He turned back to their SUV while Savannah gave her a look. “You good?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be? This guy tried to kidnap me and was about to hand me over to a crazy man. Then Meena and her people did it for real. Now they’re harboring him?” She shook he
r head. “I don’t think so.”

  Conroy handed her a vest, the edge of a smile on his lips. “That’s my girl.”

  She was a woman, thank you. But she got his point. And saying she was “his girl” meant something entirely different.

  But not unwelcome.

  There was so much still to resolve between them, but working as a team in this meant putting their past aside for the moment and getting on with the take down.

  Anthony Stiles—and the kidnapper, for that matter—needed to be in cuffs.

  Twenty-One

  Conroy took point. They walked the drive down to the main house faster than necessary. All three of them itching to grab Stiles.

  He could see it in the way Mia moved and the way Wilcox held her gun, loose but ready. Same for him. But this was a balancing act, like everything else.

  “There’s the car.” Mia lifted her chin in the direction.

  Conroy saw it. Sticking out around the side of the building, the back bumper had signs of damage. The white paint from his SUV was stark against the red of the paint.

  He wandered to it. “No one inside.”

  “What if he’s hiding in the trunk?” Wilcox said.

  Conroy tried the door handle. “It’s locked.” He touched the hood, still warm from the engine’s heat. “Doubt he crawled into the trunk to hide and then locked himself in.”

  Wilcox tipped her head to the side like she conceded the point. At least until they got a warrant to search the car and could check inside for themselves.

  “Think he ditched it and went into the house?” Wilcox scanned the area.

  Conroy had his eyes on the out buildings. There were a lot of places to hide here. “Guess we’ll find out.”

  And if the guy didn’t give himself up willingly, Conroy was going to have more of a problem with Ed Summers than he already did.

  Charges of harboring a fugitive for starters.

  “Or he ditched it,” Mia suggested, “and headed out into the surrounding area.”

  “Which means we’ll need a team of officers and search dogs.” Conroy glanced at Mia to see how she felt about that.

  A tiny shiver was all she let through the defensive shield she had tucked around her.