Monroe, Melody S. - Verdict (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Melody S. Monroe

  She straightened and leaned forward. “Sir?”

  “Call me Randy.”

  “Randy, I’m sorry to ask, but we’ve been hiking for several hours. Is there any way we could stop—”

  “If you gotta take a leak, just say so, little lady. I’m not in a big hurry. Only the dogs are.”

  She smiled. “Thank you.”

  Snaggletooth leaned over and turned up the volume. Shit.

  “The man is thirty-three, six foot two with short, cropped hair. The woman is—”

  “How much further?” Susan asked, loud enough to cover the radio voice.

  “I can stop by the side of the road if that would help?”

  The alert ended.

  “I can wait. Thanks.”

  She glanced over at Stone and motioned with her eyes they needed to find a way out. Before he could formulate a clear plan, a gas station came into view.

  The mountain man turned left and pulled up to the pump. “I gotta get gas anyway.”

  After Susan opened the creaky door and stepped out, Stone scouted over. His boot hit the pavement and his knee buckled, but he caught himself using the door.

  “You okay, Mister?”

  “Just stiff from a lot of hiking.”

  Stone stepped to the back to retrieve his backpack. Both dogs snarled. “Easy fellas.”

  The man chuckled. “They won’t hurt you. Especially since they’re caged.” He tapped the metal enclosure. “You boys hungry?”

  Both dogs barked and seemed to lose interest in protecting their territory.

  Stone lifted their packs and handed Susan hers.

  “You can leave them here. I’ll watch them.”

  “My money’s inside,” Stone said.

  Susan chimed in. “I need mine for, ah, female reasons.”

  It was hard to tell in the morning light, but underneath the beard, Stone could have sworn the guy blushed.

  As they headed toward the small store, Stone threaded his arms through the straps on his pack. Their strides were slow and even to avoid looking like they were running away.

  He leaned closer. “If you need to go to the bathroom, make it quick. I need to find an escape route out back.”

  “I’m good.”

  “Then grab some food. We might be on our own for a while.” He took off his pack and dug his hand in the side pocket. “Here’s the last of the cash. Use it wisely.”

  She raced off. Her focus and her ability to understand the ramifications of his requests drew him more to her. Susan was an amazing woman.

  The back entrance was easy to find. The door was next to the bathrooms. Perfect.

  He stepped into the main store area and glanced out the windows. Snaggletooth had finished filling up.

  “Susan.” He attempted to keep the urgency from his tone. No use alarming anyone else in the store.

  She held up a finger to indicate she’d heard, grabbed her change and hurried toward him. He motored toward the back, presumably to use the bathroom.

  He pushed open the back door and the cold air rushed in. Damn. Just when he’d gotten warm.

  Behind the store was a copse of trees, and beyond the small forest were a few farmhouses. As if he was in the Army again, he waved her away from the building. He wouldn’t be surprised if their driver came looking for them. They needed to move fast, and he’d be the hold-up with his bum leg.

  Teeth clenched, he led the way. This time there was no neat path maintained by the forest service. Downed limbs, prickly weeds, and basic scrub brush blocked their way every few feet. The going was tough, but Susan didn’t say a word. She tripped and went down on her knees once but bounced right up. The vines and dead trees wouldn’t be enough to block anyone from seeing them. They had to make it to the shelter of the farm houses.

  Shouts sounded from the direction of the gas station. Shit. He prayed Snaggletooth would assume he’d done something offensive to make them leave or that his passengers were two crazy people hell-bent on a new adventure.

  In less than ten minutes, they’d fought their way through the woods. About six houses sat on one hundred acres, all fenced in.

  They halted. Out of breath, Susan dropped to her hands and knees. “Now what?”

  He spotted an old truck behind a barn. “Wait here.”

  She straightened. “Where are you going?”

  “Pretend you don’t see me.”

  He took off, leaving her on the dirt road. She didn’t need to be an accomplice in what he was about to do. He’d grown up on the streets. Hotwiring a car was standard fare. He’d stolen a few vehicles in his time, too, to go joyriding when he wasn’t old enough to legally drive, but he always returned what he took—unharmed. He hoped he could do the same with this truck.

  When he got to the rust bucket, he tugged on the handle. This was his lucky day. The passenger side door was unlocked. He climbed in, withdrew his knife from his pack and went to work. In less than sixty seconds, the engine roared to life.

  He tossed his pack in the back, got back into the driver’s seat and picked up Susan.

  Her brows furrowed. “This is illegal.”

  Her disapproval bit into him, but he didn’t expect any less coming from a lawyer. “My other choice was to turn us in. Or rather turn myself in.”

  She reached over, clasped his arm and squeezed. “You did what you had to do.”

  Her understanding meant the world to him. “We aren’t out of the woods yet. No pun intended.”

  “Once we get do to Virginia, where do you plan to hole up?”

  “We can’t go to my place or yours. The department will have both of those places covered.”

  “Then where?”

  “The last place on earth they’ll think to look.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Stone stopped the truck on the side of the street. Every house would qualify for HGTV’s beautiful homes series. Every one of them was a mansion.

  “Who lives here?” Susan asked.

  “Wait here.”

  Stone crawled out of the driver’s seat. Damn him. Every time he didn’t answer her questions directly, the shit hit the fan.

  She must have looked really pissed off, for he reopened her door and leaned in. “You’re safe. I promise. I won’t be long.”

  He’d promised she’d be safe when they reached the Florida town house and again when they left the woods. Each time someone found them. Maybe someone had implanted a homing device under his skin. Or else she had one.

  She rubbed her wound where the glass had impaled her. No way could a whole team of doctors have been bribed to put one of those invasive devices in her body. When this was over, she’d get a full body scan just to make sure.

  Pushing aside the horrible thought, she slid down in the seat to avoid detection. This beat-up farm truck would surely draw attention in this fancy neighborhood. The security guards were probably out patrolling the streets right now, trying to prevent people like them from casing the place. Her breath fogged the window. She lifted her head to peek out her side. The wet snow fell in light, delicate flakes, creating magic on the trees. The passenger’s side door eased open, and she shot her hand to her pounding chest.

  “You scared me.”

  “Sorry. Come on.”

  “Who lives here?”

  “You’ll see.” Stone led her down the street and up the front walkway.

  She looked back over her shoulder. “What about our gear?”

  “No one would steal those packs.”

  Probably true.

  While she couldn’t smell herself, she could feel the dirt and grime rub against her skin when she moved. Maybe whoever lived here would be willing to let her shower. But could she really put on these stinky clothes afterwards? Most likely not.

  Stone rang the front doorbell in the shape of a snake. What did that tell her about the occupant?

  An old Asian woman, dressed in a black and white maid’s outfit that seemed miles too big, answered the door. Her hand
flew to her mouth. “Mr. Stone? That really you?” She sent him a toothless grin.

  “Yes, Mai, it’s me. I’d give you a hug, but I don’t think you’d want to get near me.”

  “Come. Come. Mr. Nicky will be so happy to see you. He don’t get many visitors these days.”

  Nicky? Susan tugged on Stone’s arm. “There is no way I’m going to stay in a Caravello house.”

  “We don’t have a choice.” He leaned in closer and whispered, “I thought about seeing if Peter could put us up, but I’m sure the cops have his place covered.”

  “What about T-Squared?”

  His jaw tightened. “His house is probably being watched, too. Besides, I’m hoping Uncle Nicky will let us stay in his vacation home on the Bay.”

  A tall, thin black man, who looked no more than twenty-five, pushed a very old Nicky Caravello down the hall. He’d aged badly in the six years since the trial.

  Nicky smiled. “Stone. It’s so good to see you.” He slid his glance over to her and his cheer evaporated. “What’s she doing here?”

  Susan didn’t have the energy to absorb his insults. “I’ll wait for you in the car.”

  Before she took a step, Stone swept an arm around her waist and pulled her to his side. “She’s not the enemy, Uncle Nicky. The Franciscos have ordered a hit on her head. I’ve been hired to protect her.”

  His brow arched. “Is that so?” He looked over at her. “And what did you do to piss off that family, my dear?”

  Suddenly, she was the favored child. “I have no idea. To be honest, I thought your family was responsible for the deaths of the jurors, but from my up close and personal meeting of Dominick Francisco, I know I was mistaken.” She looked over at Stone to gauge his reaction, but he was watching Mr. Caravello.

  The old man relaxed his grip on the wheelchair. “I’m glad to see we aren’t the bad guys anymore. And Dominick? How did he fare in the exchange?”

  “He won’t be bothering anyone anymore,” Stone said.

  “He’s dead?”

  “Yes.”

  The old man slapped the arm of his wheelchair. “Excellent. Never did like that jackass. At least his old man had class.”

  Stone dropped his arm from around her waist and stepped forward. The loss of his nearness surprised her. They’d become a team, one that worked well together.

  “Uncle Nicky. We need a place to hide. The FBI thought I was responsible for the deaths of some of the jurors and came after me. I was forced to put one of the agents out of commission for a few hours. I’m not safe at work, home, or much of anywhere else.”

  “For you, anything.” He turned around. “Henry?” A second later, the young black man appeared. “Would you please get my keys?”

  “Yes, Mr. Caravello.”

  A moment later he returned and handed the keys to his boss. The old man handed the chain to Stone. “Take off these two keys. This one is for the front door of my house in Maryland. You remember the place, don’t you?”

  “Fondly.”

  “I’m betting you’ll need different transportation too.”

  “I had to steal an old farm truck. It kind of sticks out in this neighborhood.”

  He smiled. “I’m glad my lessons helped. Here.” He handed him a car key. “Henry can show you to the Navigator. Wait here.”

  Nicky wheeled himself down the hall and through the second door on the left. He returned with a metal box. Using the smallest key on the chain, he unlocked the box and withdrew a stack of bills. “You’ll need cash to stay out of trouble.”

  “I can’t take your money.”

  “Nonsense. I insist. Buy yourselves some new clothes. You took look a mess.” He craned his neck to the side. “Henry, could you get Mai?”

  She had no idea what he was up to, but the way Mr. Caravello embraced Stone impressed her.

  “Yes, Mr. Nicky?”

  “Would you run to the store and...” He crooked a finger for her to bend near. The rest was lost in a whisper.

  “Now?”

  “Yes, now. And hurry.”

  Mai edged over to them. “Mr. Nicky thinks you need a makeover. Both of you. Nobody will recognize you when I finish. What size you wear?”

  Oh, boy. She hadn’t thought of a disguise, but she liked the idea. The facial scars would be hard to cover up, but from her excited tone, Mai would come up with something clever.

  The maid handed them a pad and pencil, and they each wrote down every size from underwear to shoes.

  “I get color for hair, too.”

  Instinctively, Susan touched her limp strands. “I’ve always wanted to be a redhead with blond highlights.”

  She nodded in apparent approval and moved away.

  Nicky wheeled toward them. “How about a drink?”

  Stone pulled her close. “That I could use.”

  * * * *

  Henry was the one who suggested Stone shave his head but leave the two-day old beard. The clothes weren’t what he normally wore, but maybe that was the point. Pressed slacks and a button-down shirt might make him blend in the rich Maryland shore area.

  Mai had performed a miracle on Susan. While he liked her elegant blonde hair when it was up in a twist, the short, spiky red hairdo gave her a wild look. And sexy as hell.

  Susan spun around for him and posed. “You like?”

  He whistled. Thoughts of getting her into bed the moment they were alone raced through his mind.

  Mai handed Susan a black see-through scarf. “Wear on head. If you tie under chin, you can hide cheek.”

  The clever woman had managed the impossible. He bet Susan’s own mother would take a moment before recognizing her.

  “Thank you.” Susan gave Mai a hug and stepped over to Stone. She ran a hand over his bald head. “You better get a hat. You’ll catch cold.”

  He scrubbed a hand over his chin, fishing for a compliment. “But what do you think? Is it me, or what?”

  “Definitely not you.”

  “Perfect.”

  He laughed, believing for a moment they could move around unnoticed for a while.

  Nicky’s wheels squeaked on the tile floor as he came toward them. “Let me take a look at you two.”

  He and Susan stood side by side. “I wouldn’t recognize either of you at first glance. Now you better get going before someone figures out you might have stopped here.”

  She stepped next to his chair, leaned over and kissed him on his paper-thin cheek. “Thank you for all your help.”

  He grabbed her hand. “Just make sure you take care of Stone.”

  “No problem.” That brought a smile to her lips.

  Nicky turned back to Stone. “Go, before the neighbors spot that truck of yours and call the cops.”

  Stone leaned over and gave Nicky a hug. “Thanks, old man.”

  “Don’t you ‘old man’ me.”

  Stone squeezed the key chain in his fingers. “Any way Henry can do me a favor?”

  “Name it.”

  He told them where he’d grabbed the truck. “I’d like to see it returned.” He faced Henry. “You think you can hotwire that puppy?”

  Henry stole a glance at his employer. “Not a problem, sir.”

  “Dump the backpacks somewhere too.”

  Henry nodded.

  After a few more goodbyes, they grabbed the suitcases Mai had purchased, stuffed with at least a week’s worth of clothes and toiletries, and left the Caravello sanctuary.

  With the scarf securely tied under her chin, she braved the weather with a smile. The light snow tickled her nose, and the air seemed sweeter and fresher. Even the thin layer of snow on the lawns lay undisturbed, signaling a fresh start. Just like them.

  With more pep in her step than she remembered having in a while, she waited for Stone to unlock the door of their very nice ride.

  They took back roads to the Maryland shore using the GPS as a guide. As they drove through St. Michaels, she admired the majestic homes.

  “When was t
he last time you visited Uncle Nicky’s place?”

  “Oh, gosh. Maybe ten years ago? He used to bring Peter, James, and me here during the summer. As a kid, I couldn’t get enough of the place. Especially the fishing.”

  “My family had a boat, but Dad was often too busy to take us out on the water. When we did go, I remember we’d fish for flounder for hours on end.”

  “You had a nice childhood, I take it?”

  “When my father was home.” Her tone came out too wistful. She hadn’t planned to bring up her issues. If she was honest, her life had been quite good before Carlton came along, before Craig got into his car accident, and before Mom became depressed. Susan had tried to hold the family together after Dad died, but all she’d held dear disappeared after he passed.

  Stone must have sensed she didn’t want to talk about those times and kept quiet. They made a quick stop at a fast food restaurant, then picked up some food supplies at a local market, not talking about anything they didn’t want the world to hear.

  Less than twenty minutes later they pulled into the drive of a two story, Craftsman-style home. Not as big as she expected, but quaint and cozy nonetheless.

  He cut the engine and got out. This time the weather wasn’t balmy and her wounds weren’t making her body scream.

  He slipped the suitcases out of the trunk while she shuffled up the walkway with her head down, careful not to slip on the snow. She shielded her face with one hand to avoid anyone identifying her.

  Once on the porch, she stomped her boots on the straw mat to get rid of the slush and waited for Stone to unlock the front door. No one had driven by on the brick street since their arrival. Maybe they had escaped unnoticed.

  The sticky key worked on the second try. She expected the furniture to be covered in white sheets and the inside air temperature to be cold and damp, but someone must have come in recently and freshened up the place.

  “Nice.” While not as down-to-earth as the Traynor’s cabin, this house oozed an elegant comfort, decorated in polished cotton prints and antique furniture. Uncle Nicky must have had a decorator. She didn’t see him as the kind to pick out the feminine style.

  Stone set the suitcases down and marched around the house, checking the window locks before closing all the blinds. “Don’t want anyone snooping.” He waved a hand. “Look around, pick a bedroom, then relax.”