Fugitive

by Shirlee McCoy

  “Hmph” was Seth’s only response.

  Logan let it lie, watching as the bungalow’s door opened.

  He caught a glimpse of blond hair and a thin frame, a pretty face perfectly made up.

  Mildred.

  Seeing her infuriated him. She should still be in jail, serving time for the crimes that she’d committed.

  “That looks like our mark,” Seth muttered.

  “It is.”

  “She’s aged well.”

  “She’s only forty-eight.”

  “She had Laney young.”

  “When she was nineteen. She wasn’t able to conceive again after that.” At least, that was the story. Whether or not it was the truth was something that Logan had never been able to figure out.

  “Maybe that’s why she was such a terrible parent—she wanted more children, and she was bitter from too many disappointments.”

  “You’ve got a good imagination, Sinclair, but I’m sure that she wasn’t disappointed about not having more children. Laney was her little doll. She dressed her up, brought her out for visitors to see, stuck her back in her room until the next special occasion and beat her while they waited for it.”

  “Nice.”

  “Yeah. The woman is mean to the bone.”

  “Still?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “She must be if she’s responsible for the attempt on your life. Anyone who’d go to the kind of efforts that she has to ruin someone’s name knows exactly how to carry a grudge and keep it.”

  “We haven’t proven that she’s responsible.”

  “We will.” Seth sounded confident. Logan wanted to feel the same. After nearly eight months of telling everyone who’d listen that he was innocent, he’d love to be able to prove it. He’d love to go back to his town, his house, his life. More than that, he’d like to know that he hadn’t dragged three other people into the nightmare that he’d been living through.

  “If not, I’m not the only one who’s going to be in trouble.”

  “No need to remind me of the risk, Randal. I know what we’re playing for.” Seth shifted in his seat, took binoculars from the glove compartment and aimed them at the bungalow’s front window. “Can’t see a thing.”

  “Mind if I look?”

  “Go ahead.” Seth handed him the binoculars. “Bet you wish you could be in there trying to get a read on Mildred. It’s what I’d want to do.”

  “Yeah.”

  “So maybe we give the ladies a few minutes to feel things out and then we head inside. It’s not like the police don’t know you and Laney are together, right?”

  “They’re probably assuming that we are.”

  “No probably about it. Ronald Danvers has been talking nonstop since he was brought in for questioning. He told the authorities all about how you knocked him down, tied him up and ran off with his good friend Laney.”

  “You heard this where?” Logan lowered the binoculars, leaning over the front seat so he could look into Seth’s face. His expression showed nothing, though Logan thought there might be a hint of excitement in the depth of his eyes.

  “Darius. I spoke to him this morning while you and the rest of our quartet were sleeping.” Seth grinned. “He knows the local sheriff, and he called the guy and asked what was going on out at the Mackey place last night. The whole town is buzzing about it, so it’s not like it’s a secret.”

  “And?”

  “The police in Green Bluff aren’t stupid, but you know that. You worked for them for years.”

  He had, and he knew that if there’d been any evidence at all to support Logan’s claim of innocence, his coworkers would have been all over it. “They’re a good team.”

  “Yeah, and none of them are buying what Roland is selling. A guy named Tanner told Darius that Roland is dirt, and that he doesn’t believe a word of his story. Says the guy has a record a mile long and three warrants out for his arrest.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me. Did Tanner mention anything about the Cascade Mountain Men?”

  “Yes. His office is checking into the connection. We should probably do the same.”

  “I agree.” Logan figured the more they knew about it, the better.

  “Do you also agree that we’ve left Laney and Taryn in there long enough?” Seth said.

  “Absolutely.”

  “Then let’s go see what Mildred has to say for herself.” Seth jumped out of the truck.

  Logan followed, his nerves humming with adrenaline as he walked to the house. It had been ten years since he’d faced Mildred in court. She’d given a convincing testimony, but there’d been too much stacked against her. Kids who she’d slapped, starved, demeaned. Adults who’d been troubled teens hoping for a fresh start and who’d gotten nothing but hatred.

  She’d stared Logan down during her sentencing, and he’d seen something in her eyes that might have worried him if she hadn’t been wearing prison orange and handcuffs.

  Maybe it should have worried him.

  She was spiteful, vindictive and smart. That could be a deadly combination.

  “Let’s go around back first. I want to see what our escape options are if the police show while we’re in there.” Logan didn’t wait for Seth’s response, just headed around the side of the little house, the gun holster that Seth had lent him a comforting weight against his chest.

  Armed. Ready. Just the way he had been hundreds of times when he’d worked as a police officer. He wanted to go back to that life so badly, he could taste it.

  A step at a time, he’d get there.

  He had to believe it. He had to trust that God had a plan, and that plan didn’t include Logan rotting in prison for the rest of his life.

  FOURTEEN

  “Are you sure that you don’t want tea?” Mildred asked for the seventeenth time, and Laney had to bite back a sharp retort. Letting her anger show wouldn’t loosen her mother’s tongue, and that’s the only thing she cared about.

  Not the mean little room where they sat with Mildred’s ancient husband, every inch of it pristine. Not the strands of white that threaded through Mildred’s once perfectly colored hair.

  Not the greedy, hungry look in Mildred’s eyes.

  Laney shuddered, looking down at her shoes and wishing herself far away from the house and its occupants.

  “No tea, Mother. And if you don’t have any information that will help, then Taryn and I need to get out of here.”

  “But you’ve only been here a few minutes, and I was hoping we could catch up.”

  “On what?” she asked bluntly, not caring that the words were cold and hard.

  “Your life.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you came to see me.”

  “Not because I wanted to.”

  “Of course you wanted to. No one held a gun to your head and demanded that you visit me. No matter what happened in the past, there’s a bond between mother and daughter that can’t be broken. That’s why you’re here, whether you realize it or not.” For the first time since Mildred had opened the door, she sounded like the woman Lacey had grown up with—manipulative and determined to have her way.

  “You’re wrong. I’m not interested in some imaginary bond, and I’m not interested in catching up. I’m interested in finding Logan Randal. Has he contacted you?” She stuck to the script that Logan had rehearsed with her on the drive from the safe house, and Mildred frowned.

  “No. I told you that already. And really, Laney, I don’t know why you’d want to find him.”

  “Because he’s in trouble and I want to help him.”

  “According to the news, you already have. As a matter of fact, the last I heard, the police were looking for you. They’re saying that the two of you are
together. Obviously, that’s not the case.”

  “We were together. Logan saved my life last night, then he dropped me off at a friend’s house and left.” The rehearsed script again, and she was sure there was disappointment in Mildred’s eyes.

  “They’re offering a big reward for information that leads to his capture. Did you know that?”

  “No.” But hearing it made Laney’s heart skip a beat.

  “Twenty-thousand dollars. That would go a long way to fund the orphanage Stan and I are building in Mexico. Wouldn’t it, dear?” She smiled lovingly at the white-haired man who sat beside her, and ice ran through Laney’s blood.

  She knew that smile, knew the hatred it hid.

  Whatever Mildred’s reason for marrying, it hadn’t been love.

  “That’s right, dear, but we must remember that the young man’s soul is important, too. We should be praying for him rather than hoping to profit from his capture.” Stan’s eyes were rheumy, his hands splotched with age marks, but there was something in his gaze when he looked at Laney that unsettled her. A directness, a sharpness that seemed at odds with his slumped shoulders and frail appearance.

  “Of course. You’re so much better a person than I am.” Mildred patted his age-marked hand, and Laney was sure that Stan winced.

  Was Mildred abusing the poor old guy? He looked to be at least eighty. She wanted to put her arm around his frail shoulders and tell him to run as fast as his legs would carry him.

  “Since you don’t want any tea, dear, how about some breakfast? I can make omelets and toast. You can tell me about your career. The private eye that I hired a few years ago said that you graduated college and were an interior designer. I’m so proud of you.” Mildred’s gaze settled on Laney; she had that predatory look in her eyes, both hungry and terrifying.

  “If you’re hoping that pretending to be a good mother will put you back in my good graces, your hopes are going to be in vain.” Laney bit the words out, and Taryn gave a subtle shake of the head.

  Stick to the script, Laney could almost hear her say.

  She didn’t want to, though.

  Her mother hadn’t changed. She was the same grasping, clawing abuser that she’d been when Laney was young.

  “Pretend to be a good mother? I was a good mother. An excellent one.” Mildred huffed.

  “Now, dear, don’t get yourself riled up. Perhaps some of the medicine the doctor prescribed...” Stan started, and Mildred rounded on him, her eyes blazing.

  “Listen, you old—”

  Whatever she’d planned to say was lost as the front door flew open and crashed into the wall.

  Mildred screamed and poor old Stan nearly fell off the couch. Laney jumped in front of him, terrified that a stray bullet would end the old man’s life and that it would be her fault for being in his house. Only Taryn seemed unfazed. She pulled her gun, then aimed it, but her expression never changed.

  “Hold your fire.” Seth stepped into the house with Logan right behind him. The door closed solidly, the sharp bang breaking the sudden silence.

  “You’re lucky that I didn’t already pull the trigger. We follow the plan, remember? And this wasn’t part of it.” Taryn’s sharp tone matched the hardness in her face. She tucked the gun back into its holster, her smile gone. For the first time since Laney had met her, she looked like what she was.

  “You’re too good at what you do to pull the trigger before you know who’s on the barrel end of it.” Seth’s nonchalant attitude made Taryn frown, but any response she might have made was cut off by Mildred’s shriek.

  “Logan Randal! In my house! Call the police, Stan! Now!” She ran at Logan, and Seth pulled her up short, barely avoiding her clawed hand.

  “Cool it, lady.”

  “Cool it! The man is a criminal. Do you know that?”

  “I’m not the only one who has served time, Mildred,” Logan said coolly, his jacket pulled back just enough for Laney to glimpse the handgun strapped to his chest. It was William’s, but Laney’s life with her husband seemed so far away it could have been a dream, her love for William muted colors compared to the vividness of Logan’s presence in her life.

  “You’re the only one who is an escaped felon. The only one who is wanted by the police!” Mildred spat, the hatred in her eyes and in her voice so thick, Laney was surprised that she didn’t choke on it.

  This was Mildred at her finest.

  The Mildred of Laney’s childhood nightmares, only smaller and diminished by time, her power stolen by all the years they’d spent apart. She could spew all she wanted, but she couldn’t hurt Laney anymore. She wouldn’t hurt Logan either.

  “Logan isn’t a criminal, Mother,” Laney said, knowing that she’d draw her mother’s attention and her wrath.

  “Shut up, you little witch.” Mildred turned on her, the sweet-natured facade that she’d been wearing since Laney entered the house stripped away.

  “I’m not a kid anymore. I can speak when I want to.”

  “And say what? The same thing you spent every day of your teenage years saying?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Laney hadn’t said much to her mother, not when she was child or a teen, but she was curious to know how the past had been twisted to fit Mildred’s lies.

  “You and Logan were always plotting against me, making up stories, trying to convince the world that I was a monster.” Mildred scowled, jabbing a finger in Logan’s direction. “He’s a bad apple, Laney. He always has been. He came into our lives, and he destroyed our family. I can’t believe you would even defend him.”

  “He didn’t beat the tar out of me every other day for sixteen years, Mildred. I guess that’s a good enough reason to defend him.”

  “Why, you ungrateful little—”

  “I think we’re done here.” Logan grabbed Laney’s hand and pulled her to the door. Too bad, because she had more to say to her mother. A lot more. Years of words she’d tucked down deep because she’d been too afraid to speak them.

  “So that’s what this is about. You’re a couple.” Mildred’s brittle laughter filled the room, the caustic sound enough to chill Laney’s blood. Whatever her mother’s problems, they hadn’t gotten better over time.

  Poor Stan.

  He’d bear the brunt of it when they left.

  He stood a few feet away. No phone in his hand. If he’d called the police, Laney hadn’t heard him.

  She met his eyes. “I’m sorry, Stan.”

  “For?”

  “Disturbing your life. If there’s ever anything I can do—”

  “Shut up!” Mildred snapped. “Both of you, or I’ll make you sorry that you didn’t.”

  “You don’t have that kind of control over me anymore, Mother. And if I find out that you’re the one who set Logan up—” Laney pushed for what they’d come for, hoping and praying that they’d get it before they walked out the door.

  “He set himself up. He went down the wrong path, and now he’s paying for it. That’s the way life is. Look at what happened to your father and me.”

  “Mother—”

  “Don’t feel sorry for me. I don’t want it, and I don’t need it. I had a great life until Logan walked into it—”

  “I didn’t walk. You dragged me. I was a fourteen-year-old kid, and it’s not like I had any choice,” Logan cut in, ready and willing to take control of the conversation.

  “You had a choice not to be such a little hooligan.”

  “You seem awfully angry, Mildred. I suppose that comes from having someone ruin your life.” He threw it out there and wondered if she’d bite.

  “You’re right. It does. You stole my life and my marriage. You took everything and left me with nothing. The happiest day of my life was when I heard that you’d be spending your life in jail. Jus
t deserts. That’s what I said. Didn’t I, Stan?”

  “You did.” The elderly man, who’d been leaning against the wall and watching, spoke. Despite his obvious age, he carried himself like a military man, his sharp gray gaze settling on Logan.

  “I’m Stan Dubois. Mildred’s husband. I’ve heard a lot about you, Logan.”

  “I’m sure that you have.” Logan took his proffered hand, surprised at the strength behind Stan’s handshake. The guy had to be eighty, a few decades older than his wife.

  “Nonstop for the past couple of years,” Stan responded. “You’re not what I pictured.”

  “Is that a compliment or an insult?” Logan asked as Seth walked to the front window and looked out into the early-morning sunlight.

  “Just an observation. I used to be a military man, you know. After that, I worked for the Seattle Police Department for thirty years.”

  Uh oh. Not good.

  “I think it’s time to hit the road,” Seth said before Logan could.

  “I think you’re right. Let’s go.” Logan flung open the door and hurried Laney to the truck.

  Mildred didn’t bother following. No doubt she was already on the phone with the police.

  “A retired cop. What are the odds?” Taryn muttered as she slid behind the wheel.

  “Hold on there!” Stan called.

  “I don’t think so.” Taryn turned the key in the ignition and fired up the engine. It would have been easy enough to drive away and leave the old guy in their dust, but Logan saw something in his eyes and in his tone that made him hesitate.

  He put his hand on Taryn’s shoulder. “Let’s hear what he has to say.”

  “I don’t like it, but because you’re the one who has the most to lose if we’re caught, I guess we can go with your plan.”

  “Just watch out. The guy is probably packing heat. For all we know, he’s going to pull a gun and demand we get out and wait for his backup to arrive.” Seth didn’t seem happy about the delay, but Logan didn’t care.

  He had a feeling about Stan. The guy was closer to Mildred than anyone else. If she was hiding something, if she was somehow connected to the plot against him, Stan was the one who’d know it.