by Ellie Danes
"I don't want to end up at another diner," I said.
Nathan tickled my knee. "You can distil your own whiskey up in the hills for all I care. It would just be nice to have a place of our own."
"Didn't you have a place, um, before?" I asked.
"Nah. Just a little rented bungalow on the outskirts of the base. That was never mine. I want a place that needs work so I can put my own sweat into it." Nathan went over the want ads again.
My breath caught in my throat. The sheriff got a cup of coffee from our waitress, took a sip, and then stood up. He started at the closest table, chatting with the young couple there while he sipped his coffee. Then he moved on to the next table.
"What's he doing?" I asked. I gripped Nathan's hand under the table.
Nathan looked up but stayed calm. "He's just chatting with the locals. Sheriff is an elected office, maybe he's warming up his campaign."
"Sure. Maybe," I said.
"What do you think about furnace repair? I could do that." Nathan turned his attention back to the job listings.
The sheriff moved to another table closer to us. The middle-aged couple was passing through but they seemed very interested in his conversation.
"They didn't find the bodies? How awful," the older woman said.
The sheriff shrugged. "Hard to tell. There was a fire."
I took a sip of my coffee with a trembling hand. The sheriff could have been talking about anything. There were often wildfires up in the hills. Nathan’s hand stilled on the newspaper and I knew he was listening, too.
"Just relax," Nathan said. "I've got this."
The sheriff spoke with the middle-aged couple for a few more minutes before he sauntered in our direction. "Sorry to interrupt you love birds, but do you mind if I ask you a couple of questions?"
"Fire away, Sheriff. Would you like to sit down?" Nathan asked.
The sheriff looked at us all cuddled up on one side of the booth and shook his head. "No, thanks. I'll be quick and let you get back to your lunch. Where'd you folks come from anyway?"
Nathan mentioned a city in the opposite direction from Springer, New Mexico.
"Forgive me, but it's a little strange to get honeymooners around here. Maybe as vacation renters at some of the fancier houses, but not at the motel." The sheriff took a long sip of his coffee and studied us over the rim of the mug.
"That's my fault," I said. Nathan laid a warning hand on my knee but I barreled ahead with my cover story. "We got a flat tire here way back when we first started dating. Ended up the rim was bent so we had to spend the night in the motel."
Nathan jumped in. "They gave us the honeymoon suite then, and we thought it was so crazy."
"The idea of settling down and getting married." I shook my head. "Yet, here we are."
"So, the motel was the perfect place for our honeymoon. Full circle," Nathan finished.
The sheriff nodded and took another long, slow sip of coffee. "You two are really in sync. That's good. Say, you came into town about a week ago. Did you see anything of that crash on the road in?"
Nathan shook his head. "We heard something had happened but we drove in from the other direction. Thank god. I heard the highway was closed for hours."
"What happened?" I couldn't help myself. I had to hear what the sheriff would say.
"Seems a couple stopped at a turnout to enjoy the view, maybe eat some food they picked up, but they forgot to put on the parking brake. The car rolled off the cliff. Didn't stop rolling until a full switchback down. Then caught on fire."
I pressed both hands to my mouth, more to repress the memory than to appear shocked. I didn't have to fake the horror that paled my expression. "That's awful."
The sheriff nodded. "Anyway, we haven't found their bodies yet. Can't identify who drove the car. If you know anything, anything at all, it would be much appreciated."
"Sure thing, Sheriff," Nathan said.
Our food came and saved us from further interrogation. The sheriff moved on and eventually left the coffee shop. We ate quietly until I couldn't stand it anymore.
Nathan stole a bite of potato off my plate. "Man, if we live nearby I am going to have to take up jogging to off-set this delicious food."
"How can you say that?" I asked. "How can you sit there and pretend like we can stay here? Stay anywhere! We need to leave. We need to go tonight."
"Guilty parties run, Bree. We should just keep doing what we're doing," Nathan said.
"You mean going crazy? Because that's what it feels like I'm doing," I said.
Nathan kissed my cheek and finished off my home fries. I had lost my appetite.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Nathan
Bree jumped out of our used car before I even put it in park. She rushed inside the motel room and by the time I got there, she was already packing. We'd finally accrued a few more things, some outfits from the local vintage store and souvenirs from our little roadside oasis, so it was taking her longer than normal.
"What are you doing?" I distracted her with my obvious question.
"We can't stay. We've stayed too long. We've got to get out of here before the sheriff questions us again." Bree rolled up her shirts and stuffed them in the duffle bag.
I sat down on the edge of the motel bed. "He doesn't know anything, Bree. When people look at us, they see a honeymooning couple, not a pair of fugitives who faked their own death."
Bree shook her head and rammed a stack of pants down on top of the shirts. "I knew we should have kept driving until we hit the coast."
"We needed the break. You weren't doing so hot after crashing the car, remember?" I asked.
She left the duffle bag and rushed over to me with wild eyes. "How was I supposed to handle it? It's not a normal thing to throw away your whole life, just send it crashing down a cliff."
I stood up and hugged her. "You handled it just fine. And it was smart to get off the highway for a while. I told you, only guilty parties run."
Bree pushed against my chest and stepped back. "We are guilty, Nathan. Guilty parties run because they are about to be caught. We need to get out of here as soon as we can."
I blocked her from the duffle bag. "If you really think we have to go then it'd be smarter to take off in the dark."
"Fine." Bree sidestepped me, picked up the TV remote and threw herself into one of the motel chairs.
I took a deep breath and counted to forty before I tried to talk to her again. "Scanning all the channels is not going to help you calm down."
"Why should I be calm? It's just the rest of our lives on the line. Our new lives, not the ones we crashed and burned," Bree said.
"Well, you're not going to find anything on there. It's soap opera time of the day, not news. Why don't you go to the business center in the motel lobby and use their computer?" I shoved our duffle bag back in the closet.
"And leave a search history like a neon sign?" Bree asked.
I let out a long string of curses, then told her, "You might want to turn the volume up."
Bree sat forward in her chair as the breaking news report came on. The news anchor had to segue from a report on wildflowers to the smoking wreckage of our old sedan.
"And now a follow-up on another find in the woods, the unhappy site of what could be a fatal accident. I say 'could be' because investigators will still not confirm if a couple was inside the vehicle when it went over the embankment. Reports indicate the car rolled for quite a distance before becoming engulfed in flames. Local authorities are asking for any information in connection with the accident."
The news anchor continued with speculations. "Experts theorize the young couple last seen driving the car could have been thrown clear of the rolling vehicle. A search party is being organized to look for their remains though area authorities are not hopeful. Wildlife frequently seen in the area, such as coyotes, may have compromised whatever evidence is turned up."
Bree stood up and turned off the television. Her hands had
lost their frantic fluttering, and she was much calmer. "Do you think we should volunteer to join the search party?"
I sat on the edge of the bed and chewed my lip. "They mentioned a 'young couple.' That means they must have gotten the footage from the grill."
"Just like you wanted them to," Bree reminded me.
I stood up and rubbed my neck. "We have no idea what that footage looked like or how close they were able to zoom in. Police can enhance surveillance videos and get really clear photos of people nowadays."
Bree froze in front of the motel window's stunning vista. "What are you saying, Nathan? I thought this was good news. They still haven't confirmed that the bodies are missing. We still have a chance."
I dragged the duffle bag back out from the closet and tossed it on the bed. Bree watched, her eyes wide, as I started to pack my own small collection of things.
"We might have already been made," I told Bree in a quiet voice.
She was about to start crying when there was a sharp, businesslike knock on our motel room door. Bree pressed both hands to her mouth to stifle a worried gasp and looked to me for direction.
I snatched her things out of the duffle bag and tossed them at her. "Put them away, quick," I whispered. Then I spoke louder, "Just a minute!"
Bree shoved her clothes in the dresser, then caught my stack and put them in a different drawer. "Who is it?" she called.
"Sheriff, ma'am. Just a few quick questions."
I tossed the duffle bag back in the closet but left the door open. I wanted the sheriff to see that we still intended to stay. The room was well-lived in, and we could still play the happy couple. I told myself there was nothing to worry about.
Bree was pale and swaying from foot to foot because she didn't know where to go or what to do. I pointed to her shoes and motioned for her to get her jacket.
"Sorry, Sheriff." I pulled open the door and gave him a friendly handshake. "We were just getting ready to go for a hike."
The sheriff took off his hat and motioned inside the motel room. I had no choice but to step aside and welcome him in.
"I don't normally do this but the whole county's in an uproar over that mysterious crash," the sheriff said.
"We just heard on the news there could have been a couple in that car." Bree zipped up her coat. "Those poor people."
"Unconfirmed," the sheriff said. "But we're following up on every possible lead. That's why I'm here. You came into town about the same time as the crash and you fit the description of the couple."
"We do?" I asked. "What did they look like?"
The sheriff turned his hat over in his hands. "Where you two heading after the honeymoon?"
"We're on a road trip," Bree said. "I've always wanted to drive to the coast."
"The coast, huh? Pretty broad territory." The sheriff stood casually but his eyes flickered around our small motel room. "Nowhere in particular?"
I faked a chuckle. "We figure marriage is going to be a lifetime constraint, why put parameters on the honeymoon?"
The sheriff smiled. "Sounds reasonable. You're a lucky man that she agreed to it. My wife likes to know all the details ahead of time. And she packs at least four suitcases, especially for a long trip."
Bree saw the sheriff staring at our one duffle bag and stepped forward with an idea. I tried to wave her back, but she explained, "Our car got broken into not long ago. All our stuff is gone."
"Too bad. So, I suppose if I ask to see some identification, you won't have any?" the sheriff asked.
"No, sorry," Bree said. She kept her panic under wraps and I was impressed.
The sheriff took out his pad of paper and a pencil. "Where'd this break-in happen? I'll file a police report for you, unless you have already."
"No, thanks," I said. "We debated about it for a long time and decided not to report it."
"Why on earth not?" the sheriff asked.
"We saw them running away. Couldn't see their faces or anything but from their clothes, you could tell they had fallen on hard times." I moved to put my arm around Bree's waist. "And we wanted to focus on happier things."
"It's fun to start over," Bree added.
That comment brought the sheriff's eyes up to study her face. Bree stiffened but he must have perceived it as a new bride trying to make the best of a bad situation.
"Love does make people optimistic," the sheriff said. "Thanks for your time, folks. If you're still around tomorrow, there's going to be a fish fry out at the roadhouse. You should come on by."
"Sounds great," I said. "Maybe I can run into the man selling that lodge a few miles west of here."
"Danny Parker's place? It's a good spot. Glad you two like this place as much as we do." The sheriff put his hat back on and headed out the door.
Bree went over and closed it, then turned to me and fell into silent tears. I hugged her close, and we stood like that for a long time.
"You really wanted to buy that place, didn't you?" Bree asked in a watery voice.
I tried to make light of it even though it felt like a screw in my chest. "You know what they say about real estate: location, location, location. Guess we should have thought about that before we crashed and burned so close to here."
"I'm sorry, Nathan," Bree said. "I would have liked to see you at that lodge."
I kissed her forehead. "Maybe someday. Right now, though, let's head for the coast."
Chapter Thirty-Four
Bree
"We don't need a four-person tent." Nathan turned me toward the shelf with compact two-person tents. "We should get a smaller one and spend the money to make sure it's rainproof."
"Fine. You pick the tent, and I'll get sleeping bags," I said.
I needed a little space, so it was good the sleeping bags were two aisles over. We had been in the car for almost eight hours straight after leaving our 'honeymoon' motel. Nathan had not said much, a sure sign that he was worried. I was mad that he wasn't sharing his concerns or his ideas with me. It had been a tense drive.
"See if they have a double sleeping bag, or at least two we can zip up together," Nathan called to me. "Camping is better when you can cuddle."
I waved a hand over my shoulder to acknowledge that I heard him but I didn't turn around. After all those hours of silent contemplation, it seemed like Nathan's grand idea was to run into the woods and live in a tent. He'd never even asked if I liked camping.
I hesitated at the end of the sleeping bag aisle because there were other people in it. The outdoor sporting goods store was the size of a small airport, but Nathan had cautioned me to avoid people as much as possible.
"Dude, it says this one glows in the dark," the younger man told his friend.
They giggled, clearly stoned, and started pulling out the comic book character sleeping bags. When I saw them start a clumsy pillow fight using two of the Batman bags, I decided it was safe to continue my shopping. They wouldn't be credible witnesses anytime soon.
I grabbed two sleeping bags with the best cold weather rating and slipped by the goofy young men. I was almost to the end cap when a couple of flirty teenage girls came down the aisle.
"My dad won't even let me drive that road. Like I'm going to roll over the edge. Bet they were from some flat state like Nebraska or something," the shorter girl said. "Morons, am I right?"
"Ew. They had names, you know. Nathan and Bree. I think Bree's a pretty name, don't you?" her taller friend asked.
I was glad Nathan had put a souvenir baseball hat on my head as soon as we entered the store. I pulled it down farther and raced back to join him.
"There you are, Mr. Cramer," I said with a significant look. "If you're done picking out your new toys, can we go? Now?"
"What am I missing?" Nathan asked.
I caught his chin in one hand. "A razor. How about you ditch this scruffy look? The Mr. Cramer I know is clean-shaven."
Nathan nodded and went along with me. He grabbed all the essentials along the way, including a razor. I g
rabbed a pair of shears. Then he picked out a soft brown leather driving cap.
"That makes you look like an old man," I said.
"Not if I wear it backward like that actor." Nathan put it on and grinned. "I need a new hat, don't you think?"
I turned the driving hat around the correct way then conceded. "It does give you a new look. Now, let's get out of here."
The clerk at the checkout counter was shocked that we were buying so much stuff with cash. "That's kind of crazy, man."
I gave him a flirty smile. "Wedding gifts. We didn't want boring old blenders from a registry."
"You get presents when you get married?" the young clerk asked. "Maybe a wedding wouldn't be so bad. I mean, don't tell my girlfriend or anything."
"Your secret's safe with me," I said.
Nathan waited until we were in the car and a few miles down the highway before he turned to me. "So, what happened?"
"The authorities must have gotten a positive ID from that surveillance footage. They released our names on the news," I told him.
"That means it's time to become the Cramers?" Nathan asked.
"Yes. Now. There's a rest stop there. Pull over." I pointed out the window and insisted that Nathan take the exit. "We have to change our looks now before anyone sees us."
Nathan hesitated before he pulled into a parking spot. "This is crazy. There's no reason to be so paranoid. We can just spend the rest of the day in the car and figure out what to do when we get to the next motel."
"You don't think they've released a picture along with our names? They still haven't found our 'bodies.' I'm sure the search has gone national now that teenagers are talking about it."
"All right, calm down." Nathan pulled into the closest parking spot to the rest stop bathrooms. "What should I do?"
I dug through our shopping bags and handed him the razor. "The sheriff saw you with a beard so first thing you have to do is get rid of it. Then start wearing your hat."