by Lisa Harris
She wondered if he remembered their conversation from yesterday morning. Or all the times she’d gone into his room to check on him and make sure he took his medicine. Or how many hours she’d sat beside his bed, worried his fever might return.
“What about you?” He took a step toward her. “How are you?”
“Relieved that you’re feeling better.”
“Thank you for trusting me. For sitting with me. Every time I woke up, you were there, like my guardian angel. I knew I was going to be okay.”
She smiled back at him, wishing she could ignore whatever was stirring inside her.
Felipe and Ivan entered the cabin, pulling her thoughts away from places they didn’t need to go. She grabbed the pitcher of water and set it on the table, wishing that this lull in the storm could last forever. But now that Michael was up on his feet again, they were going to have to make decisions … and those decisions had nothing to do with her heart.
Michael sat down beside Olivia and listened while she said grace, her words flowing over him like a healing balm. The past couple of days might still be a blur, but he’d meant what he’d told her. Waking up and seeing her sitting beside him, curled up with a book, had given him what he needed to keep fighting.
Fifteen minutes later, he finished his second bowl of soup.
Olivia held up the ladle. “Do you want some more?”
Michael grinned at her. “No. But thank you. It was delicious.”
“Felipe has all kinds of hidden talents,” Olivia said. “And as you can see, cooking is one of them.”
Felipe leaned back in his chair and patted his stomach. “Your mother was the cook. She could make the best tortillas of anyone I know. Here, all I can get is packaged ones from the corner grocer.”
Michael leaned back in his chair. “A couple more days with food like this and I should be back to normal.”
“You’re welcome to stay as long as you need to,” Felipe said.
“I appreciate that, sir.”
Except he knew he couldn’t stay, even though for the first time in months, he actually found himself able to relax. While the fire crackled in the background, leaving a subtle hint of cedar throughout the room, he could almost imagine himself back with his own family with his own mama’s cooking on the stove. They used to spend a week every winter up in the Blue Ridge Mountains.
Tonight, those memories seemed like a lifetime ago.
He pushed his chair back and noticed the small television across the room for the first time. They needed to make a plan. Needed to know exactly what they were facing before they walked out of here.
“Have you watched the news the past couple of days?” he asked.
Olivia nodded. “Watched it last night and again this morning, but so far nothing about the gas station robbery.”
Felipe glanced at the clock, then grabbed the remote to flip it on. “Tonight’s broadcast should be starting any minute now.”
Michael held on to the shred of hope that maybe he hadn’t been identified yet from the store footage, but eventually it was going to lead back to him. It was just a matter of time.
After a commercial, one of the local broadcasters announced the lead story for the evening.
“Tonight, police are still looking for this man, Michael Andrew Hunt, for questioning. Rebecca Pearce has the rest of the story.”
Michael’s stomach twisted as his face filled the screen. Any hope that the story had fallen through the cracks had just been destroyed.
The camera zoomed in on Rebecca Pearce’s serious demeanor.
“Thanks, Robin. Police believe that Hunt was involved in a convenience store robbery two nights ago, and we now have exclusive information that he is also a person of interest in the brutal murder of FBI agent Sam Kendall, whose body was discovered along the Georgia coastline early this morning. If you have any information as to the whereabouts of this man, please call the number on your screen. This is Rebecca Pearce, reporting for—”
Olivia punched the mute button and turned to Michael. “Rebecca always did have a tendency for finding the dramatic stories, but now you’re being blamed for Kendall’s death? How is that possible?”
“I don’t know.” Unease spread through him. “You know the reporter?”
Olivia nodded. “She’s difficult to get along with, but she’s good at what she does. She might have an inside source. I could call her—”
“We can’t go to the media at this point,” Michael said.
“He’s right,” Felipe added.
“Then what do we do?” Olivia asked. “We can’t stay here, can’t turn ourselves in …”
Michael pushed his chair back. “I’ve gone over and over everything that’s happened the past few days, and I’ve made a decision. You’re going to stay here until this blows over. I’m going to turn myself in.”
“No way—”
“Olivia, you just saw for yourself what the police think happened. The longer we delay the inevitable, the guiltier I look.”
She threw her napkin into her empty bowl, clearly upset. “You told me if you turn yourself in, there are people who will do anything to keep you quiet. How has that changed? And if you don’t even know who they are—?”
“Maybe that hasn’t changed, but what are my options?” The relaxed atmosphere of the dinner conversation had vanished. “I can’t keep running.”
“Neither can we,” Olivia said, “but—”
“I’ll go to the police and tell them what I saw,” Ivan interrupted.
Michael turned to Ivan. He sat at the end of the table, speaking and signing at the same time.
“You’re not going to the police,” Olivia said.
“Why not?” Ivan asked.
Olivia stood up and began pacing in front of the fireplace. A pocket of sap popped as she turned back to her brother. “They might be after Michael because he has evidence that could take down our father, but you were a witness to a murder. Do you think they’ll let you just walk away? Especially if our father has people inside the police department?”
“Your sister’s right. It’s not safe,” Michael said.
He carried his bowl to the sink and rinsed it. There was one other option he hadn’t mentioned, because so far, he’d avoided giving it serious thought. He could contact his old partner and best friend, Mason, or his sister, Avery. Both were cops, and he trusted them completely. The problem was that if anyone found out they were harboring a fugitive, they’d lose their jobs. And that wasn’t a risk he was ready to take.
“Ivan, what’s wrong?”
The worry in Olivia’s voice caught his attention. Michael set down his bowl and turned toward the window where Ivan stood with Gizmo at his side, ears up and alert.
“There’s—someone—something out there.”
She crossed the room and started to pull back the curtain.
“Olivia, get back from the window,” Michael said.
“He’s right. Just in case.” Felipe got up from the table. “But I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about. Probably just one of the families coming up here for the holidays, or some animal. We get a few black bears looking for food every now and then.”
Michael glanced at the dog. There was no doubt that Gizmo was bothered about something, but Felipe was probably right. It was probably nothing more than an animal.
Michael caught the fear in Olivia’s gaze. “We’ve been here two days with no sign of anyone. If they knew where we were, they’d have shown up a long time ago—”
“Someone is out there,” Ivan said.
The front window shattered.
Michael pulled Olivia and Ivan behind the couch for cover, wincing at the sudden movements.
Michael moved in front of Ivan so Ivan could read his lips. “What did you see?”
“Four men getting out of a car. They’ve got rifles.”
“Felipe, do you have any weapons?”
“A rifle over the door and a handgun here …” Felipe pulled a
weapon from the drawer behind him where he crouched.
Another bullet hit the back wall. They needed to get out of here, before they were completely trapped.
“Stay down,” Michael ordered.
Careful to avoid the windows, he headed toward the front door, then grabbed the rifle from the top of the doorframe.
“Can you see them?” Olivia asked.
He looked out through a crack in the curtain. “Two of them are still out front. The other two must have headed around to the back.”
Another shot hit a lamp, exploding glass behind them.
Michael weighed their options. The only way they might make it out of here alive was to fight their way out the back.
“We’ll try to get out the back door,” he said. “Felipe, that means we’ll have to disarm the two guys back there.”
Felipe nodded.
Michael grabbed the keys from the counter and tossed them to Olivia. “You and Ivan stay behind us. As soon as we’re out, head for the car.”
They started toward the back door, staying low. Another round of shots smashed through the front windows.
“Michael, wait …” Olivia shouted from behind him. “Felipe’s been shot.”
Michael turned around as Felipe fell to the floor. Blood from a small wound streamed down the side of his head. Olivia searched frantically to find a pulse.
A moment later, she grasped Michael’s arm.
“I can’t find a pulse.” Her voice rose. “He’s dead, Michael … they killed him.”
Michael hesitated. The men had thrown fiery rags through the broken window and smoke was already filling the room as the flames licked at the curtains running up the wall. The goons were pounding against the front door. In another few seconds they’d break it down.
If they didn’t get out now …
“The cabin’s on fire, Olivia.” Michael struggled to breathe through the smoke as he pulled Felipe’s body toward the back door.
The front door splintered. Another few seconds …
“We’ve got to get out of here,” Michael said, letting go of Felipe’s lifeless body.
She grabbed onto his arm. “We can’t leave him—”
“We don’t have a choice. We can’t carry his body with us, and if we don’t leave now, they’ll kill all of us.”
12
Olivia watched Michael take out two of the intruders in quick succession as she stumbled out of the cabin and down the back stairs beside Ivan and Gizmo. Her mind fought to process the scene. Two men down meant there were still two more.
She ran toward the car. Smoke from the fire filled her lungs and burned her eyes. All they had to do was get to the car, start the engine, and drive away. It wouldn’t matter then where they went or who was after them. They just needed to get as far away as possible.
I’m sorry, Felipe. So, so sorry.
How had her actions to save one man managed to kill someone she loved?
Another shot ripped her from her thoughts, propelling her forward. They needed to get to the car, but the shadowy light from the fire revealed a terrifying reality. Someone had shot out all the tires.
They couldn’t go back to the cabin. Couldn’t take the car. The only option left was to run. Olivia’s mind scrambled to orient herself as Michael motioned her and Ivan toward the treeline behind the cabin. She knew the general layout of the area. Maybe the darkness was a blessing, but she had never tried to navigate the landscape in the dark. And never while being chased by men with guns.
The surrounding woods were thick; the trails that twisted through the brush were for visitors to explore in daylight. At night, it was much slower going. A twig snapped beneath her foot. She stumbled again. This time, Michael caught her and wrapped his arm around her waist.
“We’ve got to keep moving,” he said.
Olivia pressed her lips together, fighting back the bubble of terror swelling up inside. She had to keep her mind focused on the trail instead of letting the fear overcome her. But the two remaining men were still behind them. She could hear their footsteps crunching through the dry winter leaves. She shivered, wishing for her jacket. It was cold enough she could see her breath fogging in the moonlight.
Olivia pressed on between Michael and Ivan, trying not to think about Felipe lying on the middle of the floor. They shouldn’t have left him. But Michael had been right. If they’d stayed, they’d all be dead.
By the time Michael stopped at an outcropping of rocks, Olivia was completely out of breath.
“Do you hear them anymore?” he asked.
Olivia shook her head, urging Gizmo to be quiet as he whined beside her. “Maybe they thought we headed the other direction.”
Fear slithered through her, taking a stronger grasp. Why hadn’t they been more prepared? Why had they assumed they couldn’t be found? Assumed they were safe? They couldn’t have been more wrong.
She turned to Michael and whispered. “How did they know where we were?”
“I don’t know. For now, though, we need to evaluate what we have. Did you grab anything before leaving?”
“No.”
“What about the layout of this area? What’s ahead?”
“It continues for a few miles of hiking trails with dense foliage like it is here. There are dozens of houses starting a mile or so to our east away from town, but the road eventually dead ends.”
“More than likely, they’ll keep looking for us. Which means we need to put as much distance as possible between us and them. How far to the main road?”
Olivia tried to orient herself, then turned to Ivan and signed the question.
“Three … maybe four miles to the west,” he said.
“Can you get us there?” Michael asked.
The hazy moonlight was enough to communicate with Ivan. He nodded, determination stamping out the fear in his eyes.
Ivan veered left, and Michael stumbled after him. Olivia could tell he was in pain and in no shape to be facing the cold along with the tough terrain.
God … I don’t know how it came to this. I thought I wanted to know the truth, but sometimes the truth doesn’t bring freedom. Sometimes it brings death and fear, and more questions.
She shifted her focus back to Michael. “Are you going to be able to make it?”
“Not sure we have a choice, so yes.”
She glanced back in the direction of the cabin. She estimated they’d only gone a couple of miles. Which left a lot of terrain for their pursuers to search, but was it enough?
Ivan skidded down an embankment in front of her. She followed him, wincing when the sharp edges of rocks bit into the back of her legs and scratched her ankles. She stopped abruptly at the base of the embankment, as Michael made his way down behind them in an avalanche of small rocks.
He paused for a moment, fighting to catch his breath.
“Michael?”
“I’m fine. We need to keep moving.”
She stared ahead, shivering, at a row of dim lights in the distance. A light snow had begun to fall. He wasn’t fine. None of them were fine. They had to find shelter for the night.
“We need to stop.” Olivia grasped Michael’s arm. “We’ve all pushed it hard enough already. Most of these cabins are empty, and we’re far enough away by now that the chances of them finding us are slim.”
“I’m fine,” Michael repeated.
“You’re not fine. We’re running through the woods in the middle of the night, in freezing weather.” Olivia heard the shrillness in her voice, but she didn’t care. “You’ve been in bed the past two days, and I’m tired, frozen, and scared half out of my mind. We’re far enough away at this point, and I don’t think they know what direction we went.”
Ivan bent down to scratch Gizmo’s neck and nodded. “She’s right, Michael.”
“Okay, I’ll admit you’re both right. I’m exhausted.” Michael leaned against a tree trunk, his face pale. “Which is why I want you to make your way to the main road where you can get a
signal and call for help. I’ll wait here. You can come back for me later.”
Olivia frowned. He had to be kidding. “We’re not leaving you here alone. And besides, once we’re there, who do we call?”
“I’ll give you a number to call. Someone you can trust—”
“We need to stick together,” she said.
Michael didn’t look convinced. “I understand your concerns, but—”
“But nothing. I’m right and you know it,” she said.
What they needed now was shelter and a place to get a few hours of sleep. Then maybe they’d all be clearer-headed in the morning.
“There are a bunch of houses over there.” She started walking again, her mind made up. In his condition, he’d freeze to death by the time she and Ivan made it to the road. “You can see some of the lights from here. Besides, they’ll probably assume that we headed for the main road, so it’s better to go away from it.”
She forged ahead, allowing her fear to turn into full-blown anger. Anger toward her father and mother and Felipe and the secrets they’d kept. Anger toward Tomas, the men who’d attacked the cabin tonight and shot Felipe … and at the moment, even Michael.
He trudged down the trail beside her, his hand pressed against his side and limping. Maybe none of this had been his fault, but the man clearly had a knack for getting into trouble. And on top of that, he was stubborn, pushy, and worst of all, made her heart race when he looked at her with those bright blue eyes of his.
She stepped over a branch in the middle of the path and tried to shove that last thought back into the corner of her heart where it had come from. Michael Hunt might be take-charge, good looking in that rough-around-the-edges-very-manly sort of way, but what did that matter to her?
Ten minutes later, they approached the front door of a cabin. It was set back off the road, dark, and most importantly, appeared empty. She ran her hand over the top of the doorframe. Nothing. She picked up the welcome mat and searched underneath. Nothing.
Olivia took a step back, fighting tears. What had she been thinking? She couldn’t exactly ask Michael to use his police skills and break down the door.
Ivan nudged her shoulder, held up a key, then proceeded to open the door.