“You okay?” Larissa asked.
“Sure. Hey, I have a great idea. Would you like to come over to the ranch tonight? Maybe we can pick up one of Carrie’s killer carrot cakes and watch some movies?”
“I can’t hon, it’s my date night with John.” She winked luridly, making Aimee chuckle at the passion Larissa still shared with her husband. “But by all means, bring me back a piece of that carrot cake before tomorrow’s yoga class.”
“I will,” Aimee smiled.
Aimee climbed into the Bronco and noticed two men on the sidewalk outside of Carried Away Deserts in dark suits. One wore dark glasses. FBI? They had that polished look from back east. They certainly weren’t from around here.
She put the car in drive. Checking the rearview, she was encouraged that nobody was behind her, even as she turned onto the narrow road that led to the ranch.
Aimee played with May outside, while keeping an eye on the road, her ears alert for any sound of a car engine. She fed the horses and let them into the paddocks. While feeding them some treats of carrots and apples, she noticed May was staying very close to her. “Are you missing Mark?” she asked.
May wagged her tail slowly as if joyful just to be talked to like a human. Aimee pet her head. She was missing Mark too. She wanted to tell him about the weird noise last night that had so frightened May, and the men outside Carrie’s that frightened her. If Mark were there, she’d be tempted to give up Portland, give up the money, just for the security of seeing him.
Back inside, Aimee fed May, then went upstairs to shower. After that, she became listless. Her curiosity was in overdrive. She’d mentioned Carrie’s carrot cakes to Larissa just a few hours before; maybe it was a good excuse to swing by the shop, ask a few subtle questions. She had to know what was going on, what the FBI knew.
A glance at the time read-out on the microwave, however, told her it was too late. Carrie’s was closed. She would just have to relax until tomorrow. Mark would be home tomorrow and then, maybe, she could relax.
Aimee settled into the sofa to watch television, but May kept lifting her head and sniffing the air like she sensed some unwelcome presence. Aimee told herself she was being a baby. Nobody was out there. Despite her paranoia, there really was no way for Seth to know where she was. Aimee pet May, keeping her calm, and tried to concentrate on the tv show that she had no interest in.
It was awful bright in here, she thought. In her nervousness, she’d left on a many lights but that was probably not the right thing to do; she would be more visible to anyone outside. With May following, she dimmed the lights in the living room and turned them off in the kitchen.
As they entered the living room, May let out a howl that shook Aimee to the core. Outside the big windows, Seth was smiling at her.
Amy froze. Fear choked her, rooted her to the spot. With disbelieving eyes, she took in the grotesque fact of Seth standing right outside the windows, with a strange lurid smirk on his face.
As he took a step toward the house, Amy stepped backward, and then ran for the phone in the kitchen. To her horror, there was no dial tone. She grabbed a steakknife from the block on the counter to give herself a fighting chance, and then opened the door to the garage, where she put May.
It was the only thing she could think to do to keep the puppy safe.
Seth was saying something – she could hear him yelling outside the door. The gun upstairs! As soon as she remembered it, the front of the house seemed to cave in, and window glass rained down on her. It took a moment to realize Seth had shot out the windows. Seconds later, loud alarms began to ring through the night.
Within seconds, he was inside and the gun was pressed against her temple. Almost gently he lifted her fingers from the knife she held and tossed it aside. “Hello, darlin’,” he said softly. “Did you miss me?”
“The police are coming,” she stuttered, her whole body trembling. “They’ll be here any minute. Leave.”
“Oh I’m leaving. And you’re coming with me.”
She whimpered as he grabbed her elbow and yanked her toward the front door. In the driveway was an unfamiliar sedan. Beyond Spanner Ranch, all was quiet and dark, and that instinct to run was still pushing, pushing inside her. But she was tired of running.
“Get in,” he said.
Resigned, she got in.
She looked at the house, praying that May would be okay. Praying Mark would know that she was so very sorry.
“I can’t get the money for you until morning,” Aimee said as soon as they were on the road.
“Why the fuck not?”
Because I want to buy some time, you idiot. “Because the place where it is stashed doesn’t even open until morning.”
Seth seemed weirdly calm. The calmness was terrifying. She’d never seen him like this.
Up ahead, a police cruiser was coming toward them. Plain as day, Aimee could see the light-reflecting paintjob: Spanner County Sherriff’s Department.
“Don’t even think of trying anything,” Seth warned her.
She wouldn’t. Not really, because he was a police officer and he could convince anyone of anything. So she watched it pass, wondering if it was the same cop who pulled over Mark on the night they had dinner with Larissa and John.
“They’re going to be looking for you, you know,” Aimee said. “They’re going to the house, see that the windows have been shot out and remember that a Toyota Camry was driving away from the ranch just after it happened.”
He seemed to consider that for a moment. He hadn’t thought this through very well, she thought. That was an opening.
“There’s a resort up in the mountains,” Aimee said. “It’s remote. You can hide out there for the night until I can get the money for you.”
He glanced at her with a weird smile. “Well darlin’, if I didn’t know better I’d say this is the old Aimee I love so much.”
She didn’t answer.
Eighteen
Mark awoke with a gasp. His heart thudded against sore ribs, and his throat was raw from silent gasping screams. He looked around the room, not recognizing anything about it. The tap of rain on the window grounded him to reality. It was raining? Stumbling out of the bed, he walked across a room not his own to the windows and peered out. The White House glowed in the gloom. Mark watched the snipers on the roof for a moment. Always on defense.
Letting the curtain fall across the panes, Mark flung himself back in the wide, unfamiliar bed and shut his eyes, realizing a headache was beginning to thud in his temples. He had a meeting in three hours. Dread settled in his stomach. The possibility of simply heading to the airport shimmered like a dare. He could be home by noon. He’d surprise Aimee, hold her tight, and take her straight to bed to make up for the weirdness of their last night together.
He wasn’t sure it was smart to tell her he loved her, especially knowing she was determined to head to Portland, but it was the God’s honest truth. He’d never told any other woman he loved her. He was saving it for the real thing.
It was actually painful being away from her and their home even for two days; when she left for Portland, it was going to be cataclysmic.
He suddenly sat up again. This whole situation was ridiculous. He didn’t want to be here. He had come to be polite, to kiss the ring of the men in high positions of government who had once thought they owned his soul. But they didn’t then and they sure as hell didn’t now.
Turning on the light, he quickly packed and dressed, then left the hotel.
“I’m sorry, sir, the flight is delayed.”
Mark grit his teeth, but tried not to show his displeasure to the faceless, featureless clerk behind the counter. It wasn’t her fault the Nation’s Capital was swathed in a thick gauze of dangerous rains and hail.
“In fact, all the flights are delayed, sir.”
“What about other airlines?”
“Everyone is delayed, sir. We are surrounded by storms.”
“What about Dulles airport?”
She clicked on her computer, frowning at the information display. “It looks like there is a flight leaving in an hour that can get you to Denver. From there, you’ll be on your own. If you want to make it, it’s going to be very tight.”
“Can you make a reservation for me?”
“Call the airline from the taxi, sir. You’re not going to make it if you’re still in this airport in the next five minutes.”
Mark bolted for the exit. It was so early and the weather so dismal that for once there were taxis to be had. He dived into the backseat of one. “Dulles. Hurry please.”
Mark dialed the airline, made a reservation for the flight to Denver, and hung up.
He wanted to call Aimee; he ached to hear her voice. But it was three o’clock in the morning in Spanner. Aimee was probably asleep with May snoozing beside her in his big iron bed. It was a vision of such simple peace that for a split second, he felt a sliver of happiness shivering through the muck.
She will forgive me, he thought, as he dialed the main number at the ranch.
It rang. With every subsequent ring, his concern grew deeper. Five rings, twelve, fifteen.
He hung up and dialed again. Again, there was no answer. He looked out the window to the Beltway, the bleak weather obscuring everything beyond the road, but he could clearly see that something was very wrong. Aimee was a light sleeper; the moos of the Darmstadt’s cows had woken her one night, and that was from a mile away.
He dialed Fraller’s number.
The spook sounded very sleepy when he answered. “Yes?”
“It’s Mark. I have an emergency. If you can cowboy up a private plane, gassed up and ready at Dulles in the next fifteen minutes, I’ll commit to one year of anything you have in mind.”
“Is this a joke?”
Mark didn’t answer.
The terrible silence on the other end seemed to protract out forever. Eventually Fraller grumbled, “Okay. I’ll put it together. It will be waiting for you at the Signature Lounge.”
Aimee sat silently in the passenger seat as Seth drove the dark highway toward Jubilee Mountain. Funny, she had always been so scared of the dark, and night in general. But now that the worst had happened, she was no longer afraid of things she could not name. She was afraid of concrete ideas, actual threats.
She squinted as they approached a road sign reading Jubilee Mountain. Seth’s profile was as angry and cruel as she’d ever seen. Her resolve wobbled for a moment. The old panic flashed into her mind. She could keep going, just submit to whatever hell Seth had designed for her. That was known, and that would in some ways be easier than forging ahead with her plan, which was pitted with uncertainty.
She thought of Mark and her life at Spanner Ranch, and the doubts vanished instantly. “Here,” she said, pointing to the sign. “Turn left.”
Wordlessly, he turned into the smaller road. They passed the little convenience shop where Mark bought condoms, but it was dark and shuttered now. For the rest of the way to the resort, there would be no opportunity for escape or rescue. She took in a silent, deep breath, steeling herself.
Aimee directed him through the narrowing roads to the hulking main building of the resort. She thought of the bear that had chased her and May out of the house. Her heart swelled with pride at the memory of Mark using his wits to get all three of them out of danger. Now she would try to repay that favor.
Aimee led Seth through the kitchen door into the vast dark, silent reception area. Moonlight poured through the windows, lighting the old desk, the stained carpet and the lovely old staircase.
“It’s fucking cold in here,” Seth groused. “And where is a fucking light switch?”
“Lights are over there,” she said, indicating the area behind the long reception desk. A few sconces came on, barely illuminating the reception. Aimee sat down in an old puce chair, and waited.
“Where is the money?” Seth asked. He seemed relaxed, even jovial. Aimee supposed it was possible he had finally lost his mind.
“At the Whitefish Shopping Center,” she answered dully.
He looked at her closely. “Really?”
“Yes.”
“How close is Whitefish?”
“About seventy miles from here.”
He seemed puzzled by her candor. He sat down across from her, putting up his ankles on a rickety old table between them and stared at her. “You look different.”
Aimee shrugged. Her mind was a million miles away from all this. She was thinking of the first time she saw this resort, how awed she had been at the possibilities. She’d wanted to see it all spiffed up. Even if she never saw it, she would be happy knowing Mark had accomplished his goal.
She felt herself on the verge of tears and slammed down on those emotions. There was no way she was going to allow herself to tear up in front of Seth.
“So we’re just waiting here until the shopping center opens?” Seth grumbled.
“No. I’m going to call Mark and he’s going to get the cash.”
“You seem to think you’re calling the shots,” he said. His face was suddenly serious, ease that had been in his manner was gone now. He had always been that way, she remembered. Mercurial. Crazy.
“Do you really think I’m going to take you to a public place with hundreds, if not thousands, of people and not try to escape you? Do you really want a scene? Because that’s what you’ll get if you force me to take you to it.”
His eyes slit at her. She met his gaze squarely. Then he laughed. “So you think your boyfriend is going to bring me the money, then I’ll just let y’all go and it will all be even? Because I assure it, we won’t be.”
She stood up and walked to the reception desk. She hoisted herself up and swung her legs. Glancing around, she noticed the glow of the red light in the darkness. A phone. And it appeared to be live.
Just that second, the phone began to ring. Aimee jumped, but quickly grabbed it. Seth was already charging toward her.
“Hello?”
“Aimee, he has you, doesn’t he?”
Relief flooded through her at the sound of Mark’s voice. “Yes.”
Seth grabbed the phone out of her hand. “Listen here, you motherfucker.”
“Seth, give me the phone,” Aimee said with a calmness she did not feel. “If I don’t talk to him, I can’t tell him where to get the cash.”
Seth thrust the phone back at her. His face was twisted into a grimace of pure hate.
“Aimee?”
“I’m here.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she said, watching Seth. He could be like a snake and attack at any moment. “I have to tell you something. I stole some money. I took it from Seth. I need you to get it and bring here to the resort.”
“I’m still four hours away. I’m in the air.”
The fact that he didn’t even seem phased just cut her to the bone. He was focused entirely on how to help her. “I’ll be fine until you get here,” she said.
“I’ll call as soon as I land. I love you.”
“I love you,” she said.
Seth grabbed the phone and slammed it down. “How did he know you’re here? Do you have some tracking device?”
She shook her head. “He’s not like you, Seth. He doesn’t track me everywhere I go. I imagine he probably called the house and when I didn’t answer, a police officer did. That cop we passed on the road probably told him his windows had been shot out and his dog was locked in the garage. From there he probably figured out that you were in town, and that you might have absconded with me to the resort.”
He slapped her so suddenly and with such force that her head snapped back. She slid off the reception counter and stood a distance from him. “If you hurt me, you’re not getting your money.”
The dignity in her voice surprised her. It might have surprised Seth too. He shook out his fists and walked away.
Aimee fell into an uneasy snooze in one of the big comfy chairs and awoke when the su
n began to shine through the windows.
Slitting her eyes open, she saw that Seth was at the staircase, drinking from a bottle of whiskey. He must have found it in the kitchen, which meant it must have been very old. She rather enjoyed the thought of Seth being so desperate to calm himself that he was forced to drink rancid whiskey at seven o’clock in the morning.
She stretched and stood up, stiff from being in the same position for so long. The ringing phone shot a slug of adrenaline through her. She ran for it and grabbed it.
“Hello?”
“I’m on the ground,” Mark said. “Where is the money?”
She looked over at Seth, who was walking toward her. “The money is in a locker at the Whitefish Shopping Center. In the women’s changing room at the ice rink. The key to the locker is in the second drawer of my dresser.”
“Your dresser?”
Aimee’s throat stung with unshed tears. “The dresser in the guest bedroom.”
“What’s the locker number?”
“It’s on the key itself.”
Seth grabbed the phone from her. “If I don’t hear from you in an hour, Aimee’s dead. Do you understand that?”
Aimee shut her eyes. It was déjà vu all over again. How had she run so far, so fast, and ended up exactly where she’d begun, with Seth lording over her, determining where she went, whether she lived or died? It was unbearable. To think she’d lived with this man, had shared his house and his bed, and he was willing to kill her over money. It didn’t even hurt to recognize that she meant less to him than money. It just made everything so clear. How right she had been to leave. He was an island that must be stranded. She was going to swim for the first boat on the horizon.
Seth put down the phone. He looked at her with glowing, malevolent eyes that bore into her. “You’re sleeping with that guy?”
“None of your business.”
The slap across the face was so powerful she literally saw stars. She stumbled backward, catching herself on the stairwell banister, and slid down to the first step. It didn’t even hurt because she understood it was just his nature. He was like that grizzly bear that had loped in on her and Mark and May that day, predatory and hungry and confused. She held no sympathy for him, but she no longer hated him. He’d beaten the hate right out of her. She just felt revulsion for him, that he’d never quite joined the human race.
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