“Looks like someone did the police a favor, Chet.”
“It certainly looks like it, Marsha, but the question on everyone’s mind is why didn’t these men just turn him over to the police? Why dump him at the mall?”
“That’s a very good question, Chet. We’ll look forward to hearing more about this bizarre development as soon as it becomes available. In other news—”
Jim turned off the sound.
“In their place,” he said, “I would wonder if the two men on the tape were the other two escaped felons. Which means they may be looking for us.”
“Jesus!” Ginny had whispered, but the force of the exclamation hit them all.
“If we keep Charlie out of sight, what they will see is a man and a woman, not two men. All they have to go on is what we left at the scene.”
“No fingerprints,” Charlie said. “I was wearing gloves. So were you. The blankets, sleeping bag, air mattress, and duct tape could have come from anywhere.”
“What they have is our DNA.”
“What? The urine?”
“Yes.”
“But it’s all mixed up: yours, mine, and his.”
Jim shook his head. “What they will look at is the cells floating in the urine. Those come from the lining of the bladder and will be both complete and different for each of us.”
“They won’t match the other convicts’ DNA,” Ginny pointed out.
“No, they won’t. As soon as they finish those tests, they’ll know we’re not their remaining two escapees.” His brow furrowed. “The danger is exactly what those two on the television mentioned. People with nothing to hide would have taken him to the police station, probably bragged about capturing him. They would have wanted their fifteen minutes of fame, not dumped him and run off. The police will be wondering what we’ve done.”
“We’re the victims here!” Ginny exclaimed.
Jim shrugged. “We told the hijacker we were running from the law. If I were in his position, I’d be sure to share that information with the police.”
He took a breath, then let it out. “As far as I know, the police do not have a DNA profile on me, just my fingerprints.” He looked at Charlie. “What about you?”
“It won’t be hard to get a sample on me.” Charlie shrugged. “Hair, nails, blood. They’ll be all over my house.”
“I’m beginning to understand why so many criminals kill their victims.” Ginny frowned.
“Yes, but we couldn’t do that. We’re the good guys, remember?” Jim ran his hand through his hair. “We just have to hope they don’t make the connection soon enough to keep us from getting Charlie over the border. There’s no way we can make it to Albany tonight. It’s eight hours on good roads and the storm is still in full blow north of here, so there’s no advantage to leaving before tomorrow.” He stood up. “Get your gear and stack it in the front hall. I’ll get us a loaner. We can pack this evening and leave first thing in the morning.”
* * *
Thursday Evening
Blue Ridge Homestead
The SUV’s middle seats had been removed, which left space for Charlie to sit comfortably on the floor, and the Blue Ridge Homestead had loaned them a thick pad and some additional blankets to take the place of the air mattress and sleeping bag. The larger items were already stowed and Ginny was exercising her talent for efficient packing, Charlie handing stuff to Jim who handed it in to her.
“Everything all right with Sarah?” she asked.
“She was very angry with me. Look what she did.” Jim stepped up to the car and showed her the left side of his neck. There were several fresh scratches on it.
“Oh, Jim!” Ginny couldn’t help laughing. “Have you put anything on that?”
“I cleaned it, but I can’t see it very well.”
“When we get inside, let me put some antiseptic ointment on it for you.”
“Deal.”
Ginny’s smile faded. “She’s going to wash her hands, isn’t she?”
Jim had climbed back out onto the pavement and was collecting the next item for packing from Charlie. He looked up at her in surprise.
“I assume so. Why?”
“She has your DNA under her nails. If she feels vindictive enough, she could accuse you of attacking her and use that as evidence she had to fight to get away.”
They finished packing the car in silence.
“I think I’d better talk to her,” Ginny said.
Jim nodded. “I’ll drive you over.”
They made arrangements with Mrs. Lauder to eat late, then, leaving Charlie with instructions to keep an eye on the news, drove off to deal with Sarah Sumner.
* * *
Thursday Evening
Sumner Residence
Ginny had Jim drop her, then drive off. She went up and rang the bell.
Sarah opened the door enough to see who it was, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.
“What do you want?”
“I want to tell you about Jim.”
“Why should I listen to you?”
“Because you love him.”
Sarah frowned, then opened the door and let her in.
Ginny sat down on the sofa and waited until Sarah took a seat facing her.
“I don’t think Jim told you why he left Virginia.”
“He said it was a family obligation.”
Ginny nodded. “He is heir to a responsibility his father left to him. He’s in the process of finding out what that means and deciding if he wants to do it.”
“You mean like a prince, in line for the throne?”
“Sort of. He’s under a great deal of pressure right now, trying to find a way to do what his conscience demands.”
Sarah’s eyes narrowed. “Where do you fit in?”
“I’m one of his teachers.”
“Not his girlfriend?”
Ginny sighed. “I’m no one’s girlfriend right now.” She swallowed, then told Sarah about last October. When she got to the part about Jim, she saw Sarah’s face blanch. “He almost died?”
Ginny nodded.
“But he’s all right now?”
“Yes.”
Sarah stood up suddenly and walked over to the window. She lifted the curtain and looked out. “He’s waiting for you.”
“We’re on assignment. He’s responsible for me and for the other man you met.”
She looked over at Ginny. “It was a shock, when he left, and again yesterday, when he called. I hadn’t really expected to see him again.” She looked back out the window and Ginny could see a tear running down her cheek. “I still love him and I can’t have him.”
Ginny rose and came over, putting her arm around Sarah’s shoulders. “You have a very special place in his heart. One that no one can take from you.” She fished a tissue out of her pocket and dabbed at the tear, then handed it to Sarah. “I think he’d like to stay friends, if you’re willing.”
Sarah turned toward her, the floodgates opening, and Ginny put her arms around her. Ginny found herself crying, too, her own shattered dreams mirrored in Sarah’s. Eventually Sarah broke away, blotting her face with the tissue.
“You’ll take good care of him?”
“Yes.”
“I do want to stay friends. I’d like to be friends with you, too.”
Ginny blew her nose, then gave Sarah a hug. “I’d like that very much. We’re coming back this way, to pick up the car. Maybe we can get together then?”
Sarah smiled and nodded. The two women clung to each other for a minute longer, then Ginny broke the embrace.
“Wish us luck.”
“I do.”
She opened the door and let Ginny out, then waved at Jim, smiling, tears still rolling down her cheeks. Ginny gave her a final hug, then hurried down to the car. She climbed in and closed the door behind her, wiping the tears from her face and blowing her nose.
“Did she hurt you?” Jim asked in alarm.
“Oh, no! I’ve promised we’ll all ge
t together when you and I come back to pick up the car.”
Jim stared at her.
“Drive, please.”
He put the car in gear and drove off, headed back to the Homestead.
“I don’t understand.”
“I told you, she’s still in love with you.”
“And?”
“And real love wants what’s best for the other person.”
Jim was frowning hard. “So you manipulated her feelings?”
“No. I just told her what you were up against and she chose to support you. She wants to be a friend to you. Lifelong, if the two of you can manage it.”
Jim shook his head. “I will never understand women. She was trying to claw my eyes out this afternoon.”
Ginny sighed. “All she wanted was assurance that she is an important part of your life and always will be. The college girlfriend. Irreplaceable.”
Jim looked over at Ginny, comprehension dawning on his face. “A place that is hers and hers alone.”
“Yes.”
He reached over and took Ginny’s hand, then nodded. “I know just how she feels.”
* * *
Thursday Night
Blue Ridge Homestead
Jim closed the door to his bedroom, kicked off his shoes, and settled down to call home. He wasn’t looking forward to it, but he had to let Himself know what was in the wind.
“Grandfather, it’s Jim.”
“Aye. I’ve been expecting yer call, lad. Tell me what’s amiss.”
Jim took a deep breath then summarized the events of the day before.
“Hijacked! But ye were able tae capture him?”
Jim could hear the pleased tone of voice coming over the line.
“Yes. Well, it was three against one and we had resources.”
“I’m verra glad tae hear it.”
“But there’s a problem.” Jim outlined the method of overcoming the hijacker and the DNA trail they had left for the police. “So, it seems reasonable they will put two and two together and send someone after us.”
“Auch, lad! This will tak’ a wee bit o’ thinking aboot.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“Dinna be sorry ye were able tae solve yer problem and escape wi’ all yer skins intact.”
“The car will stay here and be fixed. The Homestead has given me a loaner.”
“Tis just as well. Detective Tran ha’ been granted a warrant tae use th’ GPS in th’ van tae find oot where ye are.”
Jim’s mouth dropped. “That can’t be legal!”
“Tis legal enough. Th’ judge signed off on’t on th’ grounds neither you nor Ginny were th’ legal owners and I had gi’en th’ detective verbal permission tae search where she wanted. I suggest ye ask the lads at Blue Ridge Homestead tae disable th’ van’s GPS afore she gets a chance tae execute her warrant.”
Jim’s mouth twitched in grim satisfaction. “Not necessary. Reggie did that before we left Dallas.”
“Weel, th’ joke’s on her, then! But ye need tae know, tha’s no all she asked for. She also requested warrants fer yer phone and Ginny’s fer th’ same reason.”
Jim felt his stomach clench. “And you’re just now mentioning it?”
“Calm yerself, lad. She were denied, on th’ grounds tha’ neither you nor Miss Ginny ha’ done enough tae support probable cause.”
“Well, thank God for that.” He should take the threat seriously, though. If—when—Tran got wind of the hijacker, the rules might change. “How do you know all this?”
“Do ye remember Alison Gorrie?”
“Wasn’t she Grandmother’s best friend?”
“Aye, she was. She works at th’ police substation. She lets me know when there’s aught tae do wi’ th’ clan.”
“Very useful.”
“Aye. She’s a harmless auld grandmither and nae a one o’ them gi’es her a second glance. Tha’ makes her verra useful indeed. Ye’ll find such o’ th’ clan placed strategically throughout th’ community.”
Jim blinked. Here was another example of the careful organization behind the Homestead system.
There was a pause on the other end of the line. “Wha’ else is troublin’ ye, lad?”
Jim was startled, then realized his grandfather must have heard something in the tone of his voice. He took a breath.
“I hadn’t expected to be back in Charlottesville so soon.”
“Homesick, are ye?”
“It’s not that. It’s the people. I ran into my—well, I had to call my old girlfriend up, and ask her to rescue us.”
There was what sounded like a stifled laugh on the other end of the line. “Ye had nae told Ginny aboot her, aye?”
Jim shook his head at the memory. “She was gracious and generous, but I’m afraid it didn’t put me in a very good light.”
“She’ll come aroond, lad, if ye behave yerself frae now on.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“Tha’s all any man can do. Weel, I’ll get back tae ye as soon as I’ve a notion how tae handle th’ police and th’ DNA.”
“We’re leaving first thing in the morning.”
“Then I’ll let ye get tae bed. We’ll talk agin tomorrow.”
But Jim couldn’t go to bed, yet. He pulled up Charlottesville on the digital map, and studied the results.
At a conservative estimate, there were two weather-related highway incidents for each hour of road surface between them and Albany. He’d better expect delays. With the further complication of a police dragnet, he needed to come up with a backup plan.
He’d brought in the paper maps, to supplement the electronic ones, and laid them out in front of him, folded to show the routes he and Ginny had discussed, and the changes made necessary by the hijacker. He sighed, then took a deep breath and settled down to figure out a viable route from Charlottesville to Albany.
* * *
Chapter 21
Friday, one a.m.
Blue Ridge Homestead
Ginny sat up suddenly, the scream still ringing in her ears. She looked around the darkened room, wondering if she had actually cried out. All was still. All except her heart.
She dropped her head into her hands and tried to pull her shattered nerves together. The images were beginning to blur. There was the cliff edge and the fall. She’d been over that cliff many times, almost nightly in the weeks immediately after Hal’s death.
This night there had been additions. The hijacker with a gun to her head, the gun going off. The police closing in, a dark prison cell, no light, no air, and a very large, very ugly man bearing down on her. Jim standing on the far side of the abyss, looking at her, then turning and walking away.
She hadn’t realized she was weeping until he pulled her into his arms.
“Ginny? What’s wrong, darling? I heard you cry out.”
She swallowed then shook her head. “It was just a dream.”
He brushed her face with his hand, wiping the tears off and looking around for tissues.
“Hold on a minute.”
He left her and she had a sudden, terrifying moment of déjà vu, but he was back again almost immediately. He grabbed the extra blanket off the end of the bed and wrapped her in it, then settled the two of them against the head of her bed, his arms around her.
“Now, tell me about the dream.” His voice was a rich baritone and he was using it now in his professional capacity. He had dropped the pitch and slowed the pace, letting the sound roll over her in waves. “Is it the same nightmare you’ve been having?”
She nodded. “But, Jim, I don’t want you to think you have to fix me.”
He sighed. “I absolutely hate the thought that you don’t need me. I want to be essential to your health and happiness.”
Ginny felt the corner of her mouth curve up.
“But,” he continued, “since you don’t, I have to throw myself on your mercy. Please, take pity on me. Let me help. Try to, anyway.”
She looked up at hi
m and their eyes met. He didn’t look angry, or upset, or even worried, just gently concerned. She took a deep breath, then leaned against him and closed her eyes.
“Death by being pushed off a cliff. Death by gunshot to the head. Death by prison guard rape. Death by—” She stopped. Her fear of losing him wasn’t in the same category. She hadn’t agreed to marry him. He was free to walk away at any time.
“What was that last one?”
“It doesn’t matter. The theme is death and for some reason I’m terrified of dying.”
“Well, that seems perfectly reasonable to me.”
“I thought I’d gotten over this.”
“Your conscious mind has, it’s your subconscious that’s still struggling. It’s not ready to believe the future will be better.”
“How do I do that?”
He bent down and nuzzled the side of her neck. “Marry me. I’m told I have a very promising future.”
She let out half a laugh. “Is that your standard prescription for hysterical women?”
“No. Just for you.”
She looked up at him. “I hear getting married can be stressful enough to land you in the hospital.”
“True. Maybe we can ease into it a little at a time.”
“The Scots have a form of trial marriage called hand fasting.”
“I’m aware of it. I was hoping for something more permanent. Not something either party could walk away from after the year is up.”
Ginny sighed. “Divorce is so easy these days, and so many people don’t even bother with marriage. I expect you could walk away without having to wait a year.”
His arms tightened around her. “I’m not going to walk away, Ginny. Not ever.”
“You don’t know that. You don’t know me.”
“Then teach me. Tell me about the dream.”
Ginny didn’t want to. Hal was dead and impotent. The hijacker had been captured. She might go to prison, but, if so, the guards would be female. She frowned, turning the question around.
“Do you have bad dreams about—you know?”
He hesitated for a moment. “My latest scan showed no markers of any kind. I’m clean, Ginny, but, yes, I do.”
“How do you handle them?”
“I get dressed and go for a walk in the park.”
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