Fugitive

by Shirlee McCoy

  Footprints.

  Were Logan’s near her car?

  Would the officer be looking for them, trying to see if she’d arrived at the hotel alone?

  She pulled open the curtain, peering out into the parking lot. Snow fell heavily, quickly filling in the tracks that she’d left. Hopefully it would fall fast enough to completely cover Logan’s tracks.

  Please, God, let the snow keep falling.

  She rubbed the back of her neck. The officer hadn’t said a word about Logan, and Laney had no reason to believe that he’d connected any dots.

  She had a bad feeling, though, that he had.

  Two hours and forty-five excruciating minutes later, a police cruiser pulled into the parking lot. Laney watched through the window as two officers got out. She stepped back, her mouth dry and her heart thumping.

  Seconds later, someone knocked on the door.

  She opened it and looked into onyx-black eyes.

  “Mrs. Jefferson?”

  “Yes.” She glanced beyond him and saw the other officer moving toward her Jeep. Obviously, they’d run her license plate number and had been looking for her vehicle. Were Logan’s tracks covered?

  Please, God. Please.

  “I’m Officer Daniel Kane. Washington State Police. Mind if I come in?”

  “Sure. No problem.” She stepped back to let him pass.

  “Sorry to have to come with such bad news.” He settled onto a chair, smiled easily. Disarming. Charming. Holding her attention while his partner checked her car.

  “You said my husband’s cabin burned. Were they able to save anything?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  “How about the shop?”

  “The fire crew was able to keep the fire contained to the cabin.”

  “I’m so glad. My husband loved that shop.” She tried to smile and hoped that he saw her failure as grief rather than guilt.

  “He passed away a couple of years ago?”

  “That’s right.” Obviously, Officer Kane had done his research.

  “How many times have you visited the cabin since his death?” His eyes were so black she couldn’t see the pupils for the iris, his face slender and a little too pretty to be handsome.

  “I...” She almost slipped up. She almost told him that she’d been back for the first time that night but caught herself just before the words came out. “H...haven’t.”

  “You were heading there tonight?”

  “I planned to visit on the way to my parents’ house in Green Bluff.” She explained as briefly as she could. Her father’s death, her inheritance, the need to move on with her life.

  Officer Kane took notes as she talked, looking up every few minutes and nodding encouragingly.

  When she finished, he tapped his pen against his thigh and looked her right in the eye. “Do you have insurance on the cabin, ma’am?”

  “Of course.” She left it at that. She might be guilty of several crimes, but she hadn’t burned down William’s cabin.

  “What time did you leave your house?”

  “I had a dinner meeting with a client at six. I stopped home to grab my suitcase and took off after that.”

  “So...maybe seven?”

  “I’m not sure. I wasn’t on any time schedule. I took two weeks off work to take care of my parents’ estate and William’s cabin. I’m thinking of putting my house in Seattle on the market, too. I’m just kind of playing things by ear.” She was talking too much, and she needed to stop before she gave something away that she shouldn’t.

  “You’re putting your house on the market because of financial difficulties.” It wasn’t a question, and Laney stiffened.

  “I’m thinking of putting my house on the market because my husband and I planned to fill it with children. Unfortunately, he died before that could happen. My finances, if you really need to know, are just fine.”

  “Sorry.” He didn’t look sorry. He looked...predatory. “What time did you check in here?”

  “Right before you called.”

  She stuck to the truth, knowing that he could easily check the facts.

  “It’s a two-hour drive from here to Seattle.”

  “It’s been snowing buckets for a few hours. I stopped at a rest stop for a while hoping that the weather would clear. When it didn’t, I found a hotel. I’m heading back home tomorrow.”

  She had stopped on the way to the cabin, grabbed a soda and a hot dog and stared at them while she wondered if she were doing the right thing.

  “What rest stop?”

  She gave him the exit number and the name of the shop and prayed that there weren’t security cameras outside the little store that she’d visited.

  “All right. I think that’s it.” Officer Kane closed his notebook, and she thought—hoped—he might be leaving. He glanced around the room. “Mind if I use the restroom?”

  “Go ahead.” He wouldn’t find any sign of Logan because Logan hadn’t been anywhere near the room.

  Logan...

  She paced to the window and pulled back the curtains. The second officer was gone, probably in the lobby interviewing the night clerk. Good thing she’d told the truth about the time she’d arrived.

  “I’m done here, but I’d like to take a look in your Jeep if you don’t mind.” Officer Kane stepped out of the bathroom.

  “Why?” It was all she could think to say.

  “You didn’t ask how the fire at the cabin started.”

  She hadn’t, and she probably should have.

  Too late now.

  “I guess I’m still in a state of shock. It’s been standing for the two and a half years since my husband’s death, and I can’t believe that it’s gone.”

  “Right. The thing is, someone set that fire, Mrs. Jefferson. The fire marshal has already confirmed that. It seems like quite a coincidence that you just happened to be heading to the cabin on the night it suddenly went up in flames.”

  “I didn’t set the fire, if that’s what you’re implying.”

  “Mind if I check your car anyway?”

  “Not at all.”

  Officer Kane walked outside.

  Laney grabbed her purse, threw on her coat and followed, unlocking the Jeep door and stepping back while he searched it.

  It didn’t take long. As always, the Jeep was neat as a pin, just the way William had liked it. The floor mat on the driver’s side was wet, and the passenger’s side mat dry. Logan must have dried it off before he’d left. Any mud that might have splattered from the dirt road had been cleaned off the wheels and bumpers. Logan again. He’d been thinking ahead, planning for this moment.

  Thank you, God, for that.

  Trunk empty. Backseat empty. No evidence that Laney had been at the cabin. No evidence of Logan’s presence. Nothing, and Officer Kane didn’t look happy about it.

  “I guess that’s it. What are your plans after the storm blows over?”

  “I’m going back to Seattle.”

  “I’ll be in touch.” He handed her a business card. “Give me a call if you remember anything that might help with the case.”

  “Like?”

  “Anything.” He waved to his partner, who was picking his way across the parking lot.

  “I will.”

  “One more thing.” Kane turned his gaze back to Laney, spearing her with his deep black eyes, and she knew exactly what he was going to say. “You used to be friends with a man named Logan Randal, correct?”

  “I haven’t heard from him in years.” At least not until a few hours ago.

  “Then you probably don’t know that he’s an escaped felon. We have reason to believe he was somewhere in the vicinity of your husband’s cabin tonight. Is there any reason why he might wan
t to burn it down?”

  “Not that I know of, but like I said, I haven’t heard from him in years.”

  “If you do hear from him, give me a call.”

  “Okay.”

  “Keep in mind, Mrs. Jefferson, that if you don’t, you’ll be aiding and abetting a felon.”

  “I understand.”

  He climbed into his cruiser, and she hurried back to the room, slamming the door and not even looking out the window to watch Officer Kane and his partner drive away.

  She dropped onto the bed fully clothed, nearly jumping out of her skin when the phone on the nightstand rang.

  She picked it up, sure it must be a wrong number.

  “Hello?”

  “You okay?” It was Logan’s voice, warm and smooth as melted chocolate.

  “Where are you?”

  “With a friend.”

  “Are you—”

  “We’ve been watching the hotel, waiting for the police to show. I wanted to make sure you weren’t arrested before I took off.”

  “The officer asked about you. I told him it had been years since I saw you.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You don’t have to thank me, Logan. I—”

  “Don’t say you’re repaying a debt and don’t say you owe me. Whatever I did for you is in the past, and whatever happens to me now, I want you to stay out of it. You stick to the story you told that police officer. Go back to your life in Seattle. Pretend you never saw me.”

  “Just a dream?”

  “Exactly. Will you be okay to get home by yourself?”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “Good. Get some sleep.” He disconnected without saying goodbye. She blinked hard, trying to hold back the tears she’d been fighting for hours.

  It was one in the morning, and she was exhausted, but sleep didn’t come. She stared up at the ceiling, listening to the silence, her heart so heavy in her chest it hurt to breathe.

  She’d missed Logan.

  She hadn’t realized that until she’d seen him again.

  Now, she felt the hole his absence had left, and she wanted to tell him that. Tell him that he’d been everything to her when they were kids.

  Just in case she never saw him again.

  She swiped at a tear and swallowed down more.

  She’d wanted to move on with her life. Maybe this was God’s way of helping her do it. Closure on every front. Her parents. William. Logan. Goodbye to all that she’d been and hello to something new and wonderful.

  Only she didn’t think that it could happen if Logan were in jail or worse.

  What if he died because she hadn’t been able to help him enough?

  He’d said that he was with a friend.

  Hopefully that friend could take him far away from the people who were on his trail.

  She closed her eyes and tried to pray but the words wouldn’t come. She kept picturing Logan as he’d been thirteen years ago, standing at the train station, watching as she’d boarded. She’d been clutching a duffel in one hand and a ticket in the other, the money he’d handed her tucked in her purse, the address and phone number of her Seattle contacts in the pocket of her jeans. Logan had already called and told the pastor and his wife that Laney was on the way. They were going to meet her train, take her home.

  Just in case, he’d said when he’d given her the address and phone number. But don’t worry. They were really good to me when they were in Los Angeles. I know they’ll be there for you, too.

  She hadn’t needed the contact information.

  Logan had done everything that needed doing to get her started on a new life.

  She wished that she could have done the same for him.

  Her failure hurt. It really did.

  She turned onto her side and stared out the window until the snow stopped falling and she tumbled into sleep.

  SIX

  “Did nearly freezing to death make you stupid, Randal? First the phone call and now this. I should have driven you to Seattle like I wanted to,” Darius Osborne growled as he turned onto a snow-covered dirt road. A security specialist with Personal Securities Incorporated, he’d been one of Logan’s closest friends since they’d worked together on a case the previous year.

  “You didn’t, so there must be a reason.” Logan had called Darius out of desperation, knowing that he and his new wife were spending four months in Seattle while Darius worked for a high-profile politician. It had taken less than two hours for Darius to pick Logan up at a gas station across the street from Laney’s hotel and an hour longer than that for them to make it to Green Bluff.

  “I thought that maybe you had a point. Who’s going to look for you in the town where you were arrested, right? Now, I just think you’re nuts.” The truck bounced over the rutted road, snow swirling in its headlights. At least they had that—the storm of the century blowing in and covering their tracks, everyone in Green Bluff tucked safely in their beds and no one around to see Darius’s vintage Ford.

  “What’s nuts about staying in the Mackey place? It’s on a hundred acres on the outskirts of town. Not a neighbor for miles,” Logan pointed out.

  “The place has been abandoned for years. No electricity. Probably no water, gas, heat.”

  “Laney said her father’s attorney was expecting her. Everything should be turned on.”

  “If it’s not?”

  “I’ll be cold.”

  “You wouldn’t be if you’d use a little common sense and stay at my place.”

  “And put you and Catherine at risk? I’ve already pulled you into this further than I should have by asking for your help.”

  “You would have helped either of us.”

  “That’s not the point.”

  “Then what is?”

  “You and Catherine deserve a little happiness. I want to make sure you get it. Let me out here. The house is only a couple of miles away, and I can walk that far.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Catherine will kill me if you get thrown in jail for this, Osborne. Stop the truck.”

  “Catherine knew the risk when you called. So did I. We were willing to take it.” He drove over a small rise, the truck’s headlights splashing across crisp white snow. “Sure do hope this snow keeps up. If anyone sees tracks in the Mackey’s driveway, they’re going to be suspicious.”

  “Like I said, the place is in the middle of nowhere. No one will notice the tracks.”

  “You can’t stay there forever, Logan. What’s your plan?”

  “Figure out who framed me and get enough evidence to prove it.”

  “There’s been a team of people working toward that for months. What makes you think you’re going to have the success that we haven’t?”

  “I’m the target. Our perp won’t be able to rest until he gets what he’s after.”

  “Which is?”

  “Based on what happened tonight, I’d say he wants to send me to the grave as a murderer, an escaped convict and a drug runner.”

  “That’s a lot of hate to spill out on someone.”

  “Exactly.”

  “So, we’re looking for a man with a grudge?”

  “I am. You’re going back to your wife and your job in Seattle.”

  “My job ends Monday. I’ll be back in town that evening.”

  “It wouldn’t hurt you to stay in Seattle a little longer.”

  “Yeah. It would. We’re friends. I’m not going to turn my back on you.”

  “Look, Darius—”

  “You can argue as much as you want, but I’m in this, and I’m staying in it.”

  “Even if that means Catherine ends up in jail? She’s been through that already. You can’t risk her facing it agai
n.”

  “You have a point.”

  “I usually do.”

  “I see that prison hasn’t damaged your ego.”

  Logan laughed, the sound rusty and hollow. Still chilled to the bone and shivering more than he should be so many hours after his exposure to the elements, he needed to bunk down and warm up.

  More than that, he needed Darius to turn around and go back to Seattle before anyone there missed him.

  “The turn is just ahead. See the mailbox on the left?” He pointed to a broken mailbox barely peeking out from the snow.

  “The one lying on the ground?”

  “Yeah.” Logan had passed the mailbox dozens of times over the years, watching its transformation from bright white and pristine to grimy and broken. Eventually, some punk kid had taken a hammer to it, and no one in town or out of it had cared enough to fix it.

  Logan hadn’t cared either.

  As a matter of fact, he’d taken pleasure in seeing Josiah and Mildred Mackey’s place go to ruin.

  He wondered if Laney would feel the same when she returned.

  Laney.

  She’d sounded terrified on the phone. Lonely. Even a little sad. Or maybe he’d just heard the past in her voice, the ghosts of all that they’d lived through together, seeping through her words.

  The Mackey’s oversize farmhouse jutted up from the middle of the snowy yard, the old pine tree that had been the perfect escape route when Logan had been young and brash enough to not care about consequences leaning close to the front facade.

  Darius whistled under his breath as he parked near the porch. “This place is huge.”

  “Josiah Mackey’s great grandfather built a fortune on coal mining. He founded the town and owned most of it.” Josiah had taken pride in that and in his reputation, his appearance and his ability to pull the wool over the eyes of the community.

  It had been a pleasure to take the guy down, to see him taken away in handcuffs, his once perfectly styled hair standing up in tufts around his head.

  “Josiah Mackey? Never heard of the guy.”

  “You were a few years too late to know him.”