by Rebecca York
“What are we going to do?” she gasped looking from him to the door and back again.
He’d been too busy to register the cold air pouring into the room.
“We’re not staying here.” Matt started gathering up the possessions they’d left in the room. “Once again, the motel doesn’t have our real names. I guess we’re going to disappear into the night and leave some money to pay for the door.”
“We didn’t break it.”
“But I guess you could say it’s our fault.”
“More likely, the FBI’s. They should have arrested the guy before he got this far. Arrest,” she murmured, her eyes narrowing. “I didn’t hear them read him his rights.”
Matt nodded, realizing Shelley was correct. “Maybe they’re going to claim Homeland Security issues, and just stash those guys away without anybody knowing about it.”
She winced. “I don’t like that—even for them.”
“Yeah, but right now, I think it’s the best thing for Trevor. We don’t want the man holding him to know that anything has gone wrong with their operation.”
While Matt wrapped up the food, Shelley insisted on leaving a note apologizing for the door and saying that someone had come in to rob them. He told her to print it in block letters, so that her writing would be less recognizable
“The management is going to wonder why we didn’t stick around to talk to the cops. Or maybe not. I guess we’re leaving a trail all over the Rapid City area. The local fuzz probably think we’re Bonnie and Clyde,” she added. “Sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize. We’re both on edge.”
Matt turned off the lights and the heat, and they both stepped outside where he pulled the door against the frame as best he could.
Shelley gave it a regretful look before they both hurried to the car. Moments later, they pulled out of the parking spot in front of the cabin and headed for the highway.
Feeling like a fugitive, he turned left and drove toward the outskirts of town.
Shelley sat beside him, her hands rigid in her lap.
“Are you hearing anything from Trevor?” Matt asked.
“No,” she clipped out, and he stopped trying to make what passed for conversation in this situation.
When the motels became fewer and farther between, he slowed down at one with a vacancy sign.
“Okay?” he asked.
“Whatever.”
Before going in, he looked at the clerk through the lighted window, giving him some silent instructions. Don’t worry about these people. They’re just passing through the area, and you’ll forget about them as soon as you finish registering them.
Hoping that would do the trick, he signed them in under a false name again. If they were lucky, the break-in hadn’t made the evening news, and his description wasn’t being broadcast on the police frequencies.
In the room, Matt kicked off his boots and coat, then flopped onto one of the two beds.
Shelley glanced at him, and he knew she was deciding whether to join him. He wasn’t surprised when she pulled back the covers on the other bed.
Apparently, they weren’t going to be cuddling together tonight, and he wasn’t going to say anything about it. Any level of intimacy was her decision, although he couldn’t hold back a stab of pain. He needed the comfort she could give him. Apparently, she wanted to distance herself from him.
He closed his eyes but kept them slightly open, watching her move about the room.
He’d lain down in his clothing. She rummaged in her bag for a clean shirt and jeans, then disappeared into the bathroom. Moments later, he heard the shower and couldn’t stop himself from imagining her naked under the running water.
If he went in there and stepped into the shower with her, would she be angry? Maybe not. But he wasn’t going to press her now. Not when she’d made it clear that their relationship was totally up in the air.
After she came out and slipped into the other bed, he got up and took his own bag into the bathroom, where he showered and changed.
When he came out, she was lying with her eyes closed, but he doubted that she was sleeping. Probably she was sending out messages to Trevor.
He was too tense to relax. So much had happened in the past twenty-four hours that he couldn’t process it all. The attack this morning. The horrifying trip to the Facility. The bargain with Owens and the near disaster of the assault. Could all that be crammed into one horrendous day?
He guessed it had to be, unless his brain was completely scrambled.
Finally fatigue got the better of his churning mind, and he fell into a dreamless sleep.
A hand on his shoulder had him ready to fight off an attack, but when his eyes blinked open, he found himself staring into Shelley’s face.
“What? Is something wrong?”
“No. Trevor’s on the air again.”
He sat up. “Okay.”
Her eyes clouded. “At first he sounded groggy, like they’d drugged him. Maybe that’s how that guy Blue gets some sleep. He makes sure Trevor is out.”
“The bastard.”
“But then his voice got stronger.”
“Good.” He wanted to pull Shelley down onto the bed with him and hold her tight—just for a little while. Just for a little strength and comfort. But he kept his hands at his sides.
Her expression held a mixture of triumph and regret. “I think that, you know, the treatments are making a difference. He’s able to talk to me more loudly.”
He sat up, still forcing himself not to reach for her. The look on her face told him that she was concentrating hard. He thought Trevor must be talking to her, and he wanted to ask what his son was saying, but he didn’t interrupt.
She sat very still for long moments. Finally, she made a little sighing sound.
“What?”
“He says Blue was asking him questions. Asking if he felt any different or if he could do anything he couldn’t do before.”
Matt caught his breath. “What did he say?”
“He said he was just the same.”
“Okay. Good.”
“Maybe.”
He stared at her. “What does that mean?”
“Blue’s questions were pretty urgent. I think he was anxious to have Trevor tell him he could do something…extraordinary.”
“If he does, Blue will know we’re in contact with him.”
“Yes,” she whispered. “But…”
“What?”
“What if…what if they…they give you the treatment, and if you don’t respond, they…”
Her voice trailed off, but he could follow her thinking process, because that terrible possibility had been in his mind since they’d toured the Facility.
Still, denial leaped to his lips. “No!”
“To save his life, he might have to tell Blue what he can do, and then we’ll never find him!”
Matt couldn’t hold back a curse.
She gave Matt a pleading look. “Will you let me try that thing I wanted to do?” she asked, her voice high and strained.
“Which thing?”
“Let me try to find him—using the contact we have. I think that if we start driving, I can zero in on him.” She licked her lips. “I told him I was coming to get him.”
“Yeah. I think we’d better do it.”
“Thank you,” she breathed.
“But you’re going to have to tell him it’s not just you. It’s us.”
“I’ll wait until we get closer.”
He ached for her to tell Trevor that his daddy was riding to the rescue, but he wasn’t going to press the point now.
“We should leave,” Shelley said.
“And grab some breakfast on the way,” he said, because he had to keep thinking of the practical situation.
They both started moving around the room, throwing the things they’d taken out back into their travel bags.
When he was packed, he started for the door to the room, then decided to look o
ut the window first.
The sight outside stopped him dead. A police car was parked in front of the office.
Shelley must have seen his shoulders stiffen. “What?”
“The police,” he answered, silently cursing their luck.
He saw her panic. “Are they looking for us?”
Knowing he had to be honest with her, he answered, “That’s a good possibility. We’re probably famous by now. I mean, our fifteen minutes of fame—at least in Rapid City, South Dakota.
“What are we going to do?”
“When I checked in, I gave the clerk a push, and I didn’t say there were two of us. Maybe the cop won’t know we’re here. Or what he’s looking for, exactly.”
“We left our fingerprints in the other room,” Shelley breathed. “If they compare them to ours—they’ve got us.”
He made an angry sound, watching as the cop came out of the office and stood looking speculatively at the row of rooms. So much for giving the clerk a push. They should have gotten out of here before the shift change in the morning. Or maybe it didn’t matter. The patrol officer was going to do his thing, regardless.
Matt followed his gaze, seeing that there were eight cars still in front of the row of fifteen rooms.
As they watched, the lawman started across the parking area toward the rooms.
“Now what?” Shelley whispered.
He thought for a moment. “You go out, get in the car, and drive away. Since I didn’t register you, you’re probably somebody else’s wife, or a woman treveling alone.”
“Then what?”
“Head toward town. We’ve got phones now. Wait until I call you that the coast is clear.”
When she looked like she was going to panic, he reached for her and pulled her close, feeling her tremble in his arms. It was amazing to him that she was still functioning after everything that had happened, but she was too strong and determined to give up.
“All I want to do is get my son back,” she whispered.
“I know. And we will. Make sure your phone is on.”
Shelley reached into her purse, pulled out the phone and turned it on.
“Don’t worry about the cop. Just walk outside like you’re minding your own business, get in the car and drive away.”
She clutched him more tightly for a moment, then sighed and moved away.
When she started to pick up her bag, he stopped her. “Wait. Don’t take any luggage. That way it will look like you’re just going to get something to eat.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Stay in here with the door closed. Or maybe try the bathroom window trick.”
“And then what?”
“Make for the woods.” And leave a trail in the snow again, he thought, but he didn’t say it.
She nodded, and stepped toward the door, where she dragged in a breath and let it out before reaching for the knob.
He kept the slat on the shade up just enough so that he could see outside.
Shelley stepped out the door and started walking at a moderate pace to the car. Counting the seconds as they passed, Matt thought she was home free until the lawman turned and started walking toward her.
She ignored him until he called out to her. “Ma’am. Just a moment, ma’am.”
Chapter Twelve
With what she hoped was an open but questioning look on her face, Shelley turned toward the cop. He was a young guy, about her age, dressed in cold-weather gear.
“Yes, Officer? Is something wrong?”
“Just doing some checking. Can I see some identification?”
She froze, wondering if Matt could hear what was going on.
“Checking on what?”
“Can I see some identification?” he said again.
“Of course,” she answered, reminding herself that her driver’s license wasn’t going to incriminate her. As far as the authorities knew, nobody by the name of Shelley Young had been making mischief in the Rapid City, South Dakota. area. Of course, nobody named Shelley Young was going to match the registration for the motel room, either.
Or the registration on the rental car, she thought as she realized that only Matt’s name was on the contract. Which meant that technically she wasn’t supposed to be driving the car. If he asked to see the contract, she was in trouble.
She waited with her heart thumping while the young officer looked at her license.
“You’re from Colorado. What are you doing up here?”
“Unwinding,” she said with a smile. “I have a high-stress job, and I had to get away for a few days.”
“I know what you mean.”
“This is the perfect place to have some winter fun,” she said conversationally, trying not think about how much fun she was really having—like playing hide and seek with an armed thug in the breakfast room. Or having the same guy break down the motel room door. Or what about a winter car chase?
Mommy?
The cop caught the startled look on her face.
“Ma’am?”
Thinking quickly, she said, “Did I just see a moose in the woods over there?”
He turned and scanned the trees.
I’m talking to a police officer, honey, Shelley said without speaking. I need to finish with him.
Okay.
“We do have them, but not usually this close to town,” the officer said.
“I’ll keep my camera ready.”
As the cop handed back the license and tipped his hat to her, she slowly eased out the breath she’d been holding.
Before he could ask any more questions, she unlocked the car and climbed in. Seconds later, she was driving out of the motel parking lot and heading toward Rapid City with her heart pounding so hard that she thought it might break through the wall of her chest.
Mommy?
I’m right here.
You were frightened.
I didn’t want the policeman to know I’m looking for you.
Why not?
Because it has to be a secret.
He was silent for a few moments, and she was afraid that she’d lost contact with him. Then he said, Okay. Are you going to be here soon?
As soon as I can.
I don’t like it here. I don’t like Blue.
I know, honey. I know. Mommy’s coming for you.
I want to go home.
I know! she answered, her heart squeezing.
A horn honked and she realized that she had been sitting at a red light that had turned green.
Starting up with a jerk, she kept going toward town, then pulled into the drive-up line at a fast-food restaurant where she bought two breakfast sandwiches and two cups of coffee. But once again, she didn’t know what to do. Was Matt okay back at the motel?
THERE WAS no window in the bathroom. Matt hadn’t noticed that detail the night before.
Now he was trapped in this room.
He looked at the luggage, debating whether to try and take it. It would weigh him down a little, but if he left it in the room, he’d be advertising that a man and a woman had stayed here last night. And the cop had only seen a woman come out. So he’d know something funny was going on.
With a sigh, he picked up the bags and listened to the cop knocking on doors, then opened his own door a crack and looked out.
While the officer was talking to someone halfway down the line of rooms, Matt grasped the straps of both bags, picked up the luggage and stepped out, walking at a normal pace toward the office.
As he’d suspected, the clerk behind the counter wasn’t the same one he’d seen before. Last night’s had been a man. This was a young, redheaded woman. The brass nametag on her gray suit said her name was Janet.
“Help you?” she asked.
“My wife had to go into town. She’ll be picking me up in a while,” he said. With every ounce of persuasive power he possessed, he sent her a silent message. I need a place to wait for her. I can’t wait in the room. I hurt my leg, I can’t stand up for lon
g periods of time. You need to let me stay in the office until she comes back. Turning, he looked through the window. The cop was moving along the line of rooms in the opposite direction, but would he come back to the office when he was finished or would he drive on to the next motel?
“Is there someplace I can wait?” he asked out loud, keeping his voice even.
“We don’t usually allow guests in the back, but I can make an exception for you, seeing as you hurt your leg and all,” Janet answered.
For a moment she looked confused, and he sent her a reinforcement message, telling her the story all over again.
“Thanks so much. I really am grateful.”
“Come around this way.”
She gestured toward the end of the counter, and raised a section that was on hinges so he could come through. Then she opened a door to an office with a computer sitting on a desk with a chair in front. He dropped into the chair as though his leg was paining him.
“I won’t be any trouble,” he said, hoping it was true, considering his last several motel encounters.
When Janet went back to her post, he breathed out a sigh and glanced around the room. There was only one way in and out, so he was trapped if something happened.
Well, he’d talked his way in here. Maybe if he had to, he could talk his way out. How long did he have to wait for the damn cop to leave? And which way was the guy headed? Had he started in town and worked his way out here? Or was it the other way around? And how many more officers were looking for the couple who had gotten into a fight with someone in one motel and wrecked another?
Wondering what was happening outside the office, he glanced at the door. Maybe he’d gotten himself into more of a trap than a hiding place.
Feeling too exposed in the chair, he got up and started poking around. First he stowed the two travel bags in the bottom of the supply cabinet. Then he began looking for someplace to hide. There was a narrow space between the back of the desk and the wall. It was too skinny for him to squeeze into, but after he moved the desk forward a few inches, he was able to slip behind it, press his back against the wall, and stretch out his legs. The modesty panel at the back of the desk hid him.
Glancing toward the door, he sent Janet another message. There’s nobody in the office. There’s nobody in the office.